#i think dots head (hair?) is a bit strange but other than that. very cute.

[misterradio]

user friendly is such a great phrase and great name i love that thats the name of one of the newscasters from 3dv. mr friendly. user frickin friendly

[marron121]

Warm soup to heal the heart

1548 words.

This really cute art was once again made by @melonsharks! Please follow them on Twitter at @/melonsharks or Instagram at @/melon.sharks!

Read the story under "Read More" or in: https://docs[DOT]google[DOT]com/document/d/10ssZArWNEM5t3G-Oo5hm_JA6tOkrY1JDXsAEhXahwXY/edit

Pigsy is a man of habit. Wake up, open the shop, take care of the sassy customer here and there, tell Tang to pay for once, close the shop, go back to sleep.

Routine may be considered boring by some —MK and Mei spring to mind—, but it works for him. Moreover, thanks to MK he’s been getting into weird situations every other day of the week, so he thinks he kid can’t really complain much.

But even so, sometimes life finds himself in unexpected situations on his own, like the one he’s currently in: Opening the back door to take out the trash, only to find a monkey man rummaging through it.

Pigsy steps out of the store and closes the door, the monkey man jumping a bit and looking at him. Even with the dim light of the back alley, Pigsy quickly realizes he’s not Monkey King: they look quite similar, but the clothes and hair are different.

“Can you explain to me why you’re rummaging through my trash can?”

The monkey blinks once, and then laughs slowly. He speaks, and Pigsy notices how his voice sounds lower-pitched than Monkey King’s.

“Oh, sorry, pig man.” The monkey man says, putting his hands behind his back. “I’m hungry and I’ve noticed that some of your customers leave food in their bags, so I decided to have a snack.”

Pigsy squints his eyes at him. “A snack with garbage?”

“I’m not a picky eater.”

“Well, if you want food then you can just buy a bowl like any customer.”

The monkey man laughs again, moving out of the way when Pigsy approaches to throw the trash bag he’s carrying.

“Do you think that I would be rummaging through the trash if I had money?”

Pigsy stays still for a second.

“Then why don’t you grab food at Monkey King’s place? You two are friends, aren’t you?”

“It’s… complicated.”

Pigsy raises his head to look at the monkey man, and since he’s so close he can see how, for a brief second, the other man’s facade drops, before his relaxed expression returns.

“You could say that we’ve had a bit of a fight.” The money man chuckles. “It would be a bit awkward to just go to his home asking for food, you know?”

Pigsy feels a twist in his stomach, because it’s not his intention to be an asshole, especially to someone who is looking for food. He curses under his breath, and walks back to the door he came from, holding the door open for the monkey man.

“Come in.”

The monkey blinks again, and then laughs, not wasting the opportunity.

“Well, thank you, mister.”

Pigsy groans, while the monkey man enters the noodle shop.

“Don’t call me that, you make me feel really old.” Pigsy complains. “Pigsy is just fine.”

“Pigsy…” The monkey man repeats out loud. “Well, I’m Macaque. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Pigsy just grunts as he grabs the apron and puts it on. He turns around, crossing his arms on his chest.

“What would you like to eat?”

“As I said, I’m not a picky eater.” Macaque says. “Whatever you want to cook, I’ll eat it.”

“A classic bowl of ramen it is, then.”

Pigsy quickly gets to work, his movements optimized and fluid like a perfectly oiled machine, having made this dish thousands of times. Even in the unusual situation he finds himself in, Pigsy can’t help but become comfortable as he cooks, relaxing himself and very briefly forgetting about the strange circumstances.

“Here you go.”

Pigsy hands the bowl to Macaque. The monkey man’s face displays a content smile, and when he smells the dish, he sighs content.

“This smells delicious.”

Pigsy snorts. “Of course it does. I made it.”

Macaque chuckles, and Pigsy rolls his eyes before handing him the chopsticks.

“Come on, eat quickly before it gets cold.”

“Yeah, yeah. Wouldn’t want to waste the kindness of a stranger, right?”

Pigsy just sighs tired, and Macaque laughs briefly before starting to eat, his face lighting up after the first bite and quickly diving into the bowl. Pigsy looks at him before turning back around, starting to clean the utensils he used to cook.

“Man, this is really good.” Pigsy hears Macaque compliment. “You must have been working as a chef for a long time, huh?”

“Longer that you’ve been al— wait, no.” Pigsy interrupts himself. “You and Monkey King are magic beings. Whatever, been working almost all of my life.”

“And it shows, pig man.” Macaque compliments. “And considering you’re giving out free food, I guess your business isn’t going bad.”

Pigsy laughs at that, briefly glancing at Macaque. “I already have a free loader, don’t mind cooking for another one.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good business to me.” Macaque thinks out loud. “Wouldn’t it be better to make him pay?”

“Eh, I’ve grown to like the guy.” Pigsy says as he dries his hands. “Besides, if I didn’t offer him food either MK would offer his or make me feel bad until I gave it back.”

“So MK is like that, huh.”

Pigsy gives a brief nod, fully turning around to look at Macaque properly. He notices how he’s moving the food, eyes casted down.

“I assume you’d know that by know.” Pigsy mentions, and when Macaque gives him a questioning look he explains himself. “If you’re friends with Monkey King, haven’t you seem them train and stuff?”

Macaque’s body relaxes, then. “Oh, yeah.” He slouches himself a bit, giving a smile to Pigsy. “I’ve seen them, alright. The kid gives it his all, and even surprises Monkey King sometimes.”

“Yeah, that does sounds like MK.” Pigsy sighs loudly. “But I can’t help but worry.”

“I understand you.” Macaque nods. “People like him… can end up not taking care of themselves.”

Pigsy stays quiet, silently looking at Macaque. He feels there’s more to those words, but he doesn’t want to pry like that to someone he just met. So, instead, he decides to change the topic.

“You know, the other guy that grabs me free food does have a way of paying it.”

Macaque glances back at him. “He does?”

“He tells stories.” Pigsy explains. “But I do have to say, I find most of his stories a bit ‘eh’. Probably cause I hear him speak every day, they end up blurring in my head.”

Macaque chuckles. “Is that so?”

Pigsy nods. “Yes. I’m pretty sure you could have more interesting stories, though.”

Macaque gives him a smile. “Oh, you think?”

“Well, you’ve lived for a long time. If someone has had crazy shit happen to them, that must be you.”

Macaque stops to think for a second, glancing at the ceiling.

“Well, it is true that I’ve lived my fair share of adventures.” Macaque laughs then. “Like one of the times I impersonated Monkey King to have some fun.”

Pigsy raises an eyebrow. “One of the times?”

Macaque shrugs. “What can I say. A man sometimes gets bored and wants to cause some harmless fun impersonating someone else. For example, this time…”

Pigsy and Macaque talk for a while, and continue talking even when the monkey man is done with the food. Pigsy finds himself having a surprisingly good time, and even when he feels like Macaque isn’t telling the full story and mentions it, the man just laughs it off and finds a way to engage him in another topic.

When Macaque finishes what might be either his fifth or tenth story, Pigsy gives a glance to his phone, realizing how late it really is. He’s about to mention this to Macaque when the man gets up from his chair, cleary having realized the situation.

“Sorry, I got a bit carried away there and ended up making you stay longer than needed.”

“I don’t mind.” Pigsy says, and he means it. “Your stories were pretty good, I must say.”

“Well, good to know.” Macaque laughs, scratching his neck. “My usual audience is a bit harsher with their opinions.”

“Well, then they’re missing it. The play I’m going to watch tomorrow will probably be less exciting now.”

“A play?”

“Yeah, it was a…” Pigsy thinks for a second. “A Shadow Play, the kid called it? He’s hyping it way too much.”

“Well, who knows.” Macaque starts, a smile on his face. “You may end up liking it. And if not…”

Macaque puts a hand on the table and approaches his face to Pigsy’s, talking barely in a whisper.

“I can come by later and tell you another story.”

Pigsy stays frozen in place, and thankfully Macaque moves back again, getting up from the chair and laughing a bit.

“But if I do that, I expect another free bowl. That’s the price, right?”

Pigsy nods, and he sees the smile on Macaque before he starts to leave the noodle shop, waving him goodbye.

“See you around, Pigsy.”

“Good night.” Pigsy says, but he’s too quiet that he doesn’t know if Macaque heard him.

After some minutes, Pigsy cleans the bowl, closes the shop and heads home. But even as the time passes and he finds himself in bed, he realizes that his thoughts are filled with a certain late customer with good stories to share.

[auramindedd]

Fixed? Never - SMAU*

Part 3

CorpseHusband x FemReader

Warnings: cussing

A/N: again, any posts with a “ * ” attached to “smau” has writing in it. imma focus A LOT more on just the social media n message perspective, but y/n n corpse meet in this part soooo i had to add some writing :) something else b4 i forget; i’m updating my masterlist and changing it into a directory post that way you guys can also request through a google form! i’ll have requests open at all times unless i get too stressed out or if they overfill. due to me changing my masterlist, there’s gonna be about 6 posts i think. also,, thank you guys so much for 600 followers! i’ve been hitting a bunch of milestones and haven’t been remembering to say thank you, but just know that i appreciate every single one of you... also i love reading y’all’s comments 😭

🤍 directory

🕊 previous

☁️ next

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You make sure you’re set up before 6 PM, which was probably a mistake. You can’t sit still, you’re starting to get nervous, and you kind of just want to run away to McDonald’s.

Sure, you know Ludwig, Dream, and Rae, but it feels like you’re at school all over again. That anxious feeling of having to be with people while your best friends aren’t around.

You’re leg is bouncing, your nails are tapping on your desk, and you can’t stop running your hand through your hair. It probably looks like a fucking bird nest by now.

You start streaming, deciding that maybe talking to your supporters will make things a bit better.

“Hey, loves,” You greet in a not so Y/N-fashioned way. Of course, the chat catches on, and you’re being called out for it. You can’t help but giggle at the fact that your supporters know how you usually are.

@user: What happened to, “Hey, bitches!”

@user: Ou, someone is nervous.

Yeah, they obviously know you very well.

“Alright, let’s start over.” You clear your throat for dramatic effect because, well, when are you not dramatic? “Hey, bitches!” Yup, even you know that just feels right.

After a while of talking to your supporters, Rae sends you the Discord invite and the Among Us code. You join, feeling your nerves start to come back.

“Y/N!” Rae exclaims in excitement when she sees you’ve joined the Among Us lobby.

“Hi,” You say, shyness lacing your voice.

“Oh my God! The cutest voice.” Jack says. Wow, what a compliment coming from the Jack_Septic_Eye.

You take time to introduce yourself to everyone, trying to calm your nerves.

“Are we gonna start?” Ludwig’s impatient ass asks.

“We’re waiting for Corpse.” Rae explains.

Shit, another person you have to introduce yourself to?

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets quickly, very obviously racing to be the first to say hi to Corpse.

“Hey, Sykkuno,” Corpse chuckles, and woah, the last thing you expected. You can’t help but be surprised, and you know it’s showing on your face. Why? Because your supporters are teasing you in the chat.

“Corpse,” Rae says in a sing-songy tone. “This is Y/N.” And your heart drops to your fucking stomach. Every single time it happens when you have to meet someone, but now your heart is beating even faster because you’re obviously the only one who hasn’t met Corpse. They’re all expecting a reaction out of you...

“Hey, Y/N.” His deep, husky voice says. You can hear the smile in his voice and it helps ease your nerves.

“Hi,” You greet, shyness still lacing your voice.

Corpse chuckles, “So cute.” Now you’re blushing. Great...

Rae starts the game, saving you before the others can start teasing you.

Crewmate.

You’ve only played Among Us once, in a public server with Dream, George, Karl, and Alex, and then you got bullied for not knowing what the fuck to do.

To say the least, you’re pretty glad to be Crewmate and not Impostor.

“Y/N!” Jack shouts, walking up to you. You slightly jump, forgetting they’re playing with Proximity Chat.

“Jack!” You shout back, letting his astronaut catch up to you.

“We were expecting a reaction.” He says, and of course they were.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t know. I feel like he hears it a lot, don’t want to add on to the list of Things People Say To Him Everyday.”

“Yeah, he’s probably very grateful for that.”

“Grateful for what?” Charlie walks up to you two.

“Nothing,” Jack drawls. You’ve just met Charlie, but you know that he’d tease both you and Corpse about one another’s voices.

“Oh, I know!” Charlie exclaims, but before he can say what he knows-

“Okayyy! That’s enough interaction with Charlie for today.” Jack says, and you take that as a, ‘Walk the fuck away now, Y/N!’

You walk around, trying your best to finish tasks, but when it comes to the card swipe in Admin, you want to quit life as a whole.

“Ugh, I fucking quit.” You groan, slamming your hands on your desk. A deep, rumbling chuckle comes through on your headphones.

“Having trouble?” Corpse teases.

“Yeah. I wanna rip every strand of my fucking hair out.”

“Swipe it slower.” And with that, you try again. Voila! Just like magic.

“Well if I would’ve fucking known.” You groan, Corpse chuckling.

“Here, I can help you with the game.”

“Yes, please, I don’t know shit about it.”

“You know, you cuss a lot for having such a sweet, innocent, and cute voice.” Corpse laughs.

“Yeah,” You drawl. “I know, bad fucking habit.” You slap your hand over your mouth. How does someone cuss in every sentence? Get a filter, damn.

Corpse walks around with you as you both finish tasks, explaining how the game works, and giving you tips for when you do end up being an Impostor.

Honestly, you could listen to his voice all day. He’s also really sweet.

“What are you two up to?” Brooke asks, doing tasks in Electrical with you two. Corpse told you to make sure you’re always aware of your surroundings when you’re in Electrical. So, naturally, you’re freaking out, but silently and internally.

“Brooke,” Corpse warns. He doesn’t even have time to finish his warning. Brooke kills him, his body flopping over, the one bone sticking out from the top of his body. Your mouth falls open.

“Hey, Y/N. Let’s be besties!” You don’t know what to do, but ay, #girlsupportinggirls, right? So, you walk with her. She helps you along the way, also telling you tips on the game, explaining how everything works. Then, after about a minute, a whole 60 seconds, Corpse’s body is reported.

“Why Corpse? Such an innocent man with a beautiful voice.” Lud fake cries.

“Get over it,” Brooke says.

“It’s Brooke! Brooke’s an Impostor!” Lud shouts.

“What? No! I was with Y/N for a lot of this round.” Brooke defends herself, and oh fuck, who the fuck do you defend? You’ve just met both of them, one of them will possibly hate you forever.

“Y/N?” Sykkuno grabs your attention, snapping you out of your thinking.

“Yeah, she was. She wouldn’t have had time to kill Corpse. Where was the body?” Well, there you go, potentially ruining yours and Corpse’s blooming friendship. Sad Girl Hour, type beat.

“In Electrical,” Charlie says.

“Yeah, no way she would’ve had to time to kill him.”

Nobody’s voted out. Brooke hasn’t even told you who the second Impostor is so, you don’t know if you should stay with her or not.

As you and Brooke are walking around, or skipping as she sees it, and holding hands, Dream pops out of a vent. Well, there’s Imposter two.

“Woah! Dream, way to out yourself out.” You tease, throwing your head back and laughing.

“Please, you’ve been with Brooke the whole time. Don’t say anything.” Dream begs, making you and Brooke giggle.

“I won’t, I won’t.”

“Thank you,” He starts walking away from you guys, but not without finishing his sentence that you thought was already finished. “Cutie.” And there, finished.

Fucking finished! Tweedle-dee, tweedle dum! Whoopty-fucking-do! Fan-fucking-tastic! A-fucking-mazing!

And of course you’re blushing for the whole 80,000+ people watching to tease you about.

“Oh my God!” Brooke squeals. “What was that?!”

“I’ll explain later,”

•*•*•*•*•

“Y/N, how could you?” Corpse says, offended.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know what to do.”

“She’s my enemy, Y/N. We were supposed to stick together. I told you some tips and tricks, explained how to be a badass Impostor, everything!” Wow, he’s a good fucking actor.

“I can very well do the same thing, bitch.” Brooke spits, all in a playful manner - you hope...

“Not better than me, bitch.” Corpse retorts, his astronaut getting closer.

•*•*•*•*•

Imposter.

With Corpse.

Great.

Your enemy. Or as he put it, “Enemy who he can maybe, and most likely, will become friends with in the near future.”

“Follow,” He says, and even though he’s your enemy, you do.

“I gotta do my own thing.”

“You don’t know how to do shit.” Corpse scoffs.

“Okay then, what the fuck are we gonna do?”

“Double kills, all the way, but only when we meet up with each other. So, right now, we’ll both go our own ways, but when we see each other again, we’ll walk to a pair and do a double kill if we can.” Corpse explains.

“Brooke told me not to do double kills often. It won’t help get through a game.”

Corpse snorts, “Brooke doesn’t know dog shit about this game.”

“Fine,” You groan, going along with it only because you don’t know dog shit about the game either.

As Corpse explained, you two do double kills every time you meet up. You two managed to get double kills where people rarely go - Shields, Comms, and the top of Cafeteria.

After killing Rae and Sykkuno, the game ends. You made sure to leave Brooke and Dream alive.

“Period, we did that!” You exclaim, everyone else groaning and complaining about how you two should never be an Impostor duo again. “But I still fucking hate you because you hate me!”

“Exactly!” Corpse retorts in the same tone as you.

•*•*•*•*•

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist - comment or message me to be added!

* if your username is in bold, please reach out to me; you’re at risk of having your username removed that way i can clear space for other tags. *

@cherry-piee @littlered00 @sunnywinterdays @strang-ersclub @callmemaeve-y @powerpuffyn @kusuinko @where-thesundoesntshine @letglimmersayfuck @coryisagee @a-dot-dev @ifilosemyselfagain @tayloryorkscurls @lex-prplatmngrl @letsloveimagines @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @smiithys @mikayladoesntknow @clubfairy @mirahg @thurstyforholland @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @majasophieanna

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Tags - ignore::

[teletraan-meets-jarvis]

What I Want

AO3 Link

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Jedi Reader

Summary: While running for you lives on the lower levels of Coruscant, you and Crosshair find yourself in a compromising position. Not that you're complaining.

Click here for Part 2

Warnings: 18+, Lil bit of frisky business but not full on so rated 18 just to be safe, slight angst at the end.

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Notes: Finally got round to finishing this bad boi. It's one of the first fic ideas I had since getting into TCW/TBB and I finally had a spark of inspiration to finish the ending so yay! As always, feedback/comments are massively appreciated along with reblogs. Fic is below the cut off, thanks for reading!!

Your legs were on fire as you sprinted through the busy streets of the lower levels of Coruscant. The party sector was packed tonight with the citizens of the planet trying to forget their war worries and enjoy themselves. You pushed people out the way as you continued running away from the threat, your brown Jedi robe catching on a passerby, knocking the hood from your head as you kept up your pace. Crosshair was still behind you, following closely as you both evaded the danger on your heels. Normally you’d both face it head on, but there were too many civilians, it wasn’t safe.

You were supposed to be doing a standard recon and intel gathering mission. Apparently there’d been some traders in the lower levels who were getting tight with the crime syndicates. They were getting a big enough name for themselves to fear that they’d soon partner with the Separatists, so the bad batch and their Jedi had been called to check things out while they were in-between missions. Wrecker was keeping an eye on the ship while Hunter and Tech covered half the sector, you and Cross handled the rest, which was mostly made up of nightclubs.

You’d been making your way through sweaty crowds of people dancing the night away. The pulsing beat of the music and the low lighting made it easy for you both to maintain cover as you scouted out the areas.

That was until club number three which was a different type of establishment, with deep red lighting and a smoky hue from the patrons who were puffing away on their tabac. Sections of circular leather booths filled with people who were donned in expensive, revealing clothing. Everyone had their hands all over each other, flirting, kissing, moving to the sensual music that filled the venue.

It became very clear very quickly that you two weren’t regulars and were clearly republic operatives. Cross being in full trooper armour and your Jedi robe definitely wasn’t helping.

There was a man at the back of the club, he was lounging on a ridiculously extravagant chair, an air of superiority about him. His black, clingy shirt was unbuttoned exposing his toned upper body as two people ran their hands across him. Despite the friendly attention he had, the man was staring directly at you and Crosshair, a small smirk on his face as he waved his bodyguard over who was previously standing a few meters off to his side, and whispered something to him.

“I think we’ve overstayed our welcome” Crosshair said while still locking eyes with the owner through his helmet.

Suddenly there was a loud burst, two doors swung open from either side of the owner, revealing two bounty hunters who began marching towards you both. You felt Crosshair reach for his weapon and placed your hand on his. “Too many civilians.” He just huffed, grabbed your wrist and sprinted out of the place, the hunters making an effort to keep up with you.

Which brings you back to your current predicament of sprinting for you life in an attempt to keep people out of harms way.

You managed to spot an alley way and dragged Crosshair along without warning, no time for apologies as you kept running. You seemed to be behind the strip of night clubs on this level, smoke pouring out the back of the buildings and into the upper levels of Coruscant. Cross spotted what looked to be a storage door and slid to a stop, making you do the same. He shoulder barged his way in and thankfully it was empty. You both rushed in and shut the door behind you. You were safe for now, but the bounty hunters won’t take long to figure out where you went.

You were both breathing heavily from all the running. “What now?” Cross asked as he removed his helmet. “They’re going to figure out what route we took”

You were looking around, waiting for an idea to hit you. Thankfully, one did. From the room you could hear some heavy bass music coming from the club it was connected to. You remember all the drunk people dancing and moving together, there were hundreds of people getting it on out in the city tonight, the bounty hunters wouldn’t bat an eyelid at one more. They’d potentially seen your face under your hood, but not Cross’s, you could use this to your advantage.

You looked over at the sniper “I’ve got a plan, but it involves us getting to know each other a little better” he raised an eyebrow at that, distorting his face tattoo. He very quickly connected the dots and smirked at you.

“If you wanted to sleep with me General, all you had to do was ask” you huffed and rolled your eyes at him.

“Cute. Now get rid of your armour and stash it somewhere.” You ordered while throwing off your brown robe and lightsaber into one of the open storage boxes, covering it back up with the lid.

When you turned back, Crosshair was out of his armour and standing in his blacks. You shut your eyes and used the force to sense your surroundings. You felt two life forces gaining on your position and snapped your eyes open again.

“Kiss me” you said bluntly. Cross was about to make a snide remark but he sensed that time was of the essence from your reaction. So he quickly strode over and placed two hands on your face as he brought his lips to yours.

It suddenly dawned on you that this was your first kiss. Despite being into your twenties, you never really tried anything. The Jedi order was very clear on attachments and well, if you don’t get physical you don’t get attached right? That’s what you told yourself. Except that was a complete lie since every single one of the Jedi in this bloody war was attached to their clone battalions and squads.

You were pulled from your thoughts as Cross moved closer, flush against you as he crowded you backwards until your back hit the wall. He stroked his tongue across your lower lip and you granted him access to deepen things further. They had to be believable right? That’s what you told yourself as you melted further into the sniper’s embrace.

You moved your hands around his neck as his went to brace himself on the wall, hands either side of your head.

Things got heated quite quickly. You’re not sure which of you sent things in that direction. All you knew is that your right leg was now firmly around his waist, his gloveless hand moving further and further up that leg until he was gripping your ass. You rolled your hips into his, looking for some sort of satisfying contact. Your enthusiasm caused him to groan as you ground yourself against his now prominent erection.

The door swung open, making you yelp. Kriff, right, the mission. You at least remembered to bury your face in Crosshair’s neck in feigned embarrassment so the bounty hunters didn’t recognise you

Still pressed firmly against you, Crosshair turned his head slightly, careful to keep his tattoo out of view. He spoke, his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine. “Can I help you?”

The bounty Hunter, Bossk, took in the scene and couldn’t help but chuckle at what he assumed was a drunk couple looking for a quick relief. He hissed out a quick “Apologies-sss” before leaving and shutting the door beyond him.

You and Crosshair stared at each other for a couple seconds, chests still heaving from both the running and the make out session. You should probably get back, you haven’t checked in with the others due to all the commotion.

Except, neither of you moved. You both continued to search each other’s eyes while your bodies remained pressed close.

You’re not entirely sure what made you do it, the adrenaline, the moment, the way that, despite your compromising position, Cross made you feel safe. You brought your hands up to his face and pulled him back down into a searing kiss. Full of heat and want.

Kriff this was so wrong, you shouldn’t be doing this. You’re his General for crying out loud. Not to mention a Jedi. But that logically voice in your head was swiftly overruled by the larger part drowning in pure desire as Crosshair kissed down your exposed neck. You ran your hands up into his cropped grey hair, lightly dragging your nails across his scalp causing the sniper to groan against your neck.

Your hands drifted to the bottom half of the top of his blacks, teasing the skin of his midriff beneath it. He took the hint and stepped back, peeling the item of clothing off his toned body and chucking it carelessly onto the ground before immediately pressing back against you. Maker he was attractive. Lean, toned, battle hardened. Various scars littered his chest and back and you wanted nothing more than to give each one the attention and care it deserved.

It was strange really, you’d never thought of Crosshair like this before. The two of you always had a slightly strained relationship as he didn’t enjoy being under the control of a Jedi. He was always quiet and then when he did speak it was usually to throw a jab or snide remark.

You were brought back to the present moment when he reached up and cupped one of your breasts, causing you to moan as you dropped your head back against the wall. He leaned up and whispered in your ear, his teasing breath making you shiver with want. “What do you want, General?”

“Cross… I-“ he cut you off as he ground down against you, finally providing some of that friction you so desperately craved.

“Use your words” he teased, fully aware of the effect he was having on you.

“Gods Cross, I want you. I want all of you” you blurted out as he continued to move against you.

“See, That wasn’t too hard”

“You’re such an asshole” he let out a dark chuckle at your words which went straight to your aching core. He positioned his lips back against your ear as your hips continued to roll together.

“You don’t seem to mind” he whispered and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you. He had no right to be this hot. It was driving you insane and you were loving every moment of it.

A sudden light beeping pulled you both out of your haze, it was coming from the comm link in your belt.

“General, Crosshair, you two alright? Haven’t heard from you in a while” Hunter’s voice sounded through the device, effectively killing the moment. You reached between your bodies to grab the offending device and reply.

“Yes Hunter, we’re fine. Just had to outrun some bounty hunters but we managed to lose them. Heading back to the checkpoint now.” He sounded back a confirmation before the line went silent once again.

Crosshair pulled away from you, giving you both some space to breathe again.

“We should probably go” you didn’t meet his gaze as you spoke, decidedly looking anywhere else but him as the guilt of what you’d done suddenly washed over you. Gods this was such a stupid idea.

He didn’t say anything as he picked up the top half of his blacks and started to get his armour back on.

You’d been walking back through the streets of Coruscant in complete silence. Still on the lookout for those bounty hunters just in case they hadn’t called off their search.

Once you’d finally cleared the crowds you decided to speak.

“Cross I-“ you met his visor with a sadness in your eyes before he cut you off abruptly.

“Save it. I know all about your Jedi code. You’ve told us enough” his voice was tense and harsh. You held back a flinch at his words. “I don’t need any lectures about attachments or I’m sorrys or whatever else you’re planning. Let’s get back to the ship” you stood there for a moment, watching him stalk off back towards the Marauder.

The guilt continued to wash over you in waves as you followed behind him. Fuming at yourself for being such an idiot. You’d just started to get to a good place with Crosshair and you’d thrown it all away for five seconds of teenage-like desire.

You finally stepped back on the ship, a few paces behind Crosshair, where Hunter went to greet you with a raised eyebrow at their sniper’s sour mood and your apparent awkwardness. The next few days were going to be a right bundle of laughs. You groaned internally at the thought and pushed past the rest of the Batch to the fresher, needing to wash away the emotions and lower level grime off your skin.

Continue to Part 2

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[whumperooni]

Hii!! If you're up for it, could you write something about Katsuki-nii? I just wanna be his wittle wife, stealing his clothes, being bred full of his cum, constantly hanging of his arm and talking about how much I love him. People might think we're too close for siblings, but they know better than to say anything, just like i know better than to be anything but Katsuki-nii's good little sister-wife.👉👈💕

Despite being one of my favorite characters, I haven’t written Katsuki before so please be gentle! o( _ _ )o

tags/warnings: tw incest, a smidge of jealousy and possessiveness and insecurity, aged up characters 

You hear the whispers. You always do.

“She’s here again?”

“What kind of adult woman still makes lunch for her older brother?”

“Isn’t it kind of weird? I mean...why is she always over him like that? And the way she dresses...it’s like...”

“Don’t they live with each other? That’s a bit strange, right?”

They whisper. They whisper, but they never really give voice to the uncomfortable thoughts and suspicions clouding their minds and filling their drum, dull days with the scandals they crave.

They whisper and you? You don’t listen.

You don’t need to listen- they don’t matter, their opinions don’t matter, the stares and gossip and mindless speculation don’t matter.

The only person who matters is Katsuki and, to a lesser degree, yourself.

Why should you care about others when your shining light- your sun, your heart, your darling big brother- is there to eclipse them with all his love and adoration?

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺

“Don’t you think they’re a little too close?”

More whispers, more gossip, more nosy busybodies trying to forget their own troubles by trying to bury themselves in you and your brother’s life.

It’s sad, really.

You ignore the raised brows and mouths hidden by hands and snuggle a little closer to your nii-san. He rolls his eyes, huffs, but his arm wraps around your waist a bit more firmly and his hand squeezes your waist, his fingers dig into your hip with a little flex.

“Nii-san, should I make curry or yakisoba tonight?”

“Mabo Dofu.”

You hum and you nod, mentally tack on the chore of going to the grocery store after you’re done here. You need to pick up his dry cleaning, too, and you need to remember to press Katsuki’s suit for his meeting with the hero commission in the morning.

Oh, and you need to lay out your dress for the dinner with the Todoroki’s tomorrow night.

Ah, tomorrow is going to be busy.

“Oh my gosh is that Dynamight?!”

Fingers dig into your hip again and you know that your big brother is irritated without having to look. He’s tired today- annoyed- and you know that the squealing call of a fangirl is not exactly what he wants to hear.

Poor nii-san- it must be tough having to deal with so much attention sometimes.

(Though, he does deserve the attention- he’s such a good hero; strong and handsome and eye catching without even having to try.

He’s perfect.)

“Dynamight! Dynamight! Will you sign my planner?!”

Two girls pop up right in front of- eyes sparkling and wonder on their faces, their proximity much too close. They don’t seem to notice you at first, but that’s okay- nii-san is the one who deserves the attention after all.

“Oh my gosh, I just love you so much! You’re so- oh.”

Ah, and now there’s disappointment on both their faces- expressions falling and pouts pushing rouged lips out, something almost irritated crossing over them.

Again, that’s okay- you’re used to it.

One of them- clearly the bolder of the two- eyes you without restraint. Her head cocks and her arms fold across her chest, her brows furrow.

“Is this- I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

Girlfriend? Oh, that’s cute.

You’re much more than a girlfriend.

Before your big brother’s temper can snap, you fix a sweet smile on your face- head resting on Katsuki’s shoulder and a giggle slipping from you.

“Oh, no- I’m his sister!”

“Sister...?” the other one asks, brows knitting together to match her friend’s.

Her eyes dart to the strong arm keeping you firmly against your big brother and you let your smile grow when she looks back up at you, give her a nod.

“Yep! Dynamight’s one and only little sister,” you chirp.

Katsuki snorts and you have to stifle a giggle when the girls exchange a look between them. Before they can say anything else, you nudge your big brother- smile softening when you feel him pull you just a little bit closer.

“Katsuki, sign her planner!” you urge him. You smile at the girl who hadn’t asked for any autographs and she seems to startle a little, flush whenever you prompt her with, “Do you have anything you want signed?”

She hesitates before giving a small nod and you watch as she starts digging around in her purse, detach yourself gently from your brother so he can carry out his duty to his fans.

He does so, with some grumbles and huffs, and the girls are aware enough not to push for a photo- scurry away with eyes lit up once again and excited squeals leaving them. You watch them with a smile and then reward your brother with a kiss to his cheek.

That gets him relaxing, just slightly, but you make a mental note of being extra attentive to him once he gets home from work.

“Nii-san,” you murmur, “I’m going to head off, okay? I need to pick up groceries.”

“Fine,” he grunts. “Just make sure to get some sansho.”

“I know, nii-san,” you huff, fondly. Another press of your lips to his cheek and then you squeeze his hand, smile at him with all the warm love you have. “I love you.”

“...love you.”

It’s rough, quiet, but it still has you beaming all the same.

You flounce off to run your errands- mind swirling with all the ways you can make your big brother happy.

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺

It’s not too big of a surprise whenever you run into Sero at the store- he works in the same city as your big brother and you do run into him every once in a while.

What is a surprise is the way he rubs his neck sheepishly in the middle of chatting, when he smiles at you with a spark of hope in his eyes and a nervousness you’re not quite used to from him.

“Hey, I was wondering- are you free on Saturday? I thought maybe we could grab dinner or something...”

Your head tilts and you blink at him- surprised by the question.

Is he asking you out on a date?

“Oh, I’m sorry, Sero- on Saturday Katsuki and I are going to the movies. And we have a lunch with Kirishima planned.”

For a moment, Sero looks a little dejected. But then he’s smiling again and nodding.

“Oh, yeah, I get that. What about Sunday?” he asks- persistent but not quite pushy.

You smile at him and it’s guilty, a little apologetic.

Sero is nice. Friendly. You’re sure he’d make for a great date.

Maybe in another life...

No, in another life you’d still find your way back to Katsuki.

You shake your head, fingers flexing on your shopping cart and your expression softens even when his own smile wanes.

“Sunday we’re having lunch with the family. And Katsuki promised he’d take me shopping...”

“Ah...”

It’s quiet for a moment, awkward. Sero scratches his cheek and he forces his lips back up, rubs the back of his neck again in a way that seems a little...frustrated.

“You, uh, you spend a lot of time with your brother,” he says, words coming out in a near mumble. “Don’t you ever have time to yourself? Time for a boyfriend or anything?”

A boyfriend?

You almost huff, but you just smile instead- big and sweet as you shake your head with a soft laugh.

“Why would I need a boyfriend when I have my nii-chan?”

And, with that, Sero’s face falls completely- features distorting with something that you can’t quite name, something that almost almost has you feeling ashamed.

“Right...”

More awkwardness after that. Sero makes his excuses to leave and he detracts himself- a frown on his face as he leaves you all alone with your shopping cart and a faint, quiet sadness that you quickly push away.

You shake your head and clear your thoughts, look down at your shopping list.

Right, you still need to get the sansho. And you should pick up some beer for Katsuki, too.

With a hum, you continue your shopping- the exchange forgotten for thoughts of domesticity and all the plans you have with your big brother instead.

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺

“Fuck.”

Your lips quirk into a smile at Katsuki’s groan and you wander over to him with a beer in hand, press a doting kiss to his cheek before sliding into his lap.

“Long day?” you ask in a murmur, hands running over his chest.

You get a grunt in response- Katsuki’s head lolling back with another groan whenever your hands begin to knead at his shoulders, soothe tight knots.

“Fuckin’ reporters got the jump on me,” he huffs. “And goddamn Deku wouldn’t stop talkin’ to ‘em.”

You make a sympathetic little noise and run a hand up until you can stroke your fingers through the hair at the base of his skull. Something close to a sigh leaves him when you begin to massage there and you feel your heart melting a little as you watch the tension so very slowly begin to bleed from him.

“I’m sorry, nii-san,” you tell him- sincere, voice soft. “That sounds like a pain.”

Another grunt and you hum, drape your arms over your big brother’s shoulders and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You need to relax, nii-san,” you mumble, pressing closer when his hands grip your waist. “I wanna help...”

“Then help.”

It comes out as a growl and you shiver from it, rock yourself against your big brother and slot your lips against his.

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺

“Is that what you’re wearing?”

You blink and look over your shoulder at your big brother, look down at your dress.

It’s simple- form fitting, yes, but not overly tight. A pretty dress with pretty flaring pleats and a cute sweetheart neckline, heels and stockings to match. You’re wearing one of the necklaces Katsuki has bought you- a copper choker with an o-ring in the middle, tiny and shining rubies dotting along the copper band.

It’s one of your favorites- something he had bought you when he first started the agency. The dress is new, but it’s a favorite, too.

“You don’t like it?” you ask him, frowning just a tiny bit.

Katsuki huffs and he walks over to you, wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on top of your head with a scowl.

“I like it,” he grumbles. “I’m sure Icyhot will like it too.”

Ah, now you see what the problem is.

A sigh leaves you and you gently place your hands over his, look him over in the mirror.

Slacks, a button up that’s not quite buttoned up. Simple and not his style, but something that makes him look so very handsome. You love it when he’s dressed up a little and you know that he likes it when you dress up, too.

“Nii-san,” you murmur. “I don’t care if Shoto likes it or not- I only care if you do.”

It’s true- it really is.

The words have Katsuki’s scowl softening, just a little, and you turn your head so you can press a kiss to his jawline, hum whenever he tilts his head back so you can lay another on his neck.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” he huffs- still so grumpy, his arms tightening around you. “Don’t like the way fuckin’ Natsuo looks at you either.”

“Katsuki...”

You turn around before he can grumble any more and you cup his face, kiss him and try to show him just how much you care for him and no one else.

“Nii-san,” you tell him, soft and adoring and sincere as can be, “it doesn’t matter if they look at me. I don’t care. I love you. You’re all that matters to me.”

Katsuki’s expression flickers with something fond, with something near vulnerable. It’s gone in a second, though, and then you’re backed against the wall, your brother’s lips are meeting yours.

“You’re mine,” he breathes against you, fingers digging into your hips and your dress bunching up underneath them. “Mine.”

His lips find your neck and you’re left mewling, clinging to him and rocking against a thick thigh whenever he slips it between yours.

“Yours,” you gasp out- Katsuki’s teeth nipping at you, his hands dragging you up and down his leg. “I’m- oh- I’m all yours!”

Katsuki grunts and then one of his hands are gone, then there’s the sound of a zipper being pulled down. He lifts you and you moan at the display of strength, wrap your legs around him when his cock ruts against you. It takes just a quick second for him to push your panties to the side and you shudder when you feel him pressing against your entrance, cling to him and claw your nails into his back.

“So fucking wet.”

You are- you really are. How can you not be when you’re held up like this- your big brother lifting you like you weigh nothing, vermilion gaze burning as he takes in how quick your cheeks flushed and how fast your face falls needy and hazy? How can you not be when he looks at you as if you’re everything- a beautiful bounty, a delicious treat, a darling little sister, a perfect wife?

“Please, nii-san,” you mewl, beg. “Please- I need you!”

A growl and then your big brother is sliding into you- stretching you open with his big cock and making you moan, whine his name.

“Gonna fuckin’- shit- gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he grunts- no time wasted as he starts to thrust, sends your head spinning as he fucks you against the wall. “Fill up my girl’s cunt.”

It’s a promise as strong and sure as anything. You whimper, nod, and press a needy, clumsy kiss to his lips, clench around his cock at the thought.

“Gonna rip off these panties,” he growls- near snarls. “Fuckin’ drip my cum all over the Todoroki’s house- show them who you belong to!”

Oh, fuck.

The thought of that has you keening and you nod along to the words, gasp and hold onto him desperately as heat sears through you- as overwhelming pleasure has you choking up, almost sobbing.

“Yes! Nii-san, please! I’m- please- show them-”

Katsuki moans and it’s hot against your neck, broken up by an open mouthed kiss and his lips sucking a deep bruise over your flesh. You start to come- lashes fluttering and a sob slipping past your lips- and his teeth dig in deeper to your throat, the snapping of his hips gets faster, harder.

“Good- fuck- good girl. My good girl- comin’ on nii-san’s cock like a good lil slut- you’re so fuckin’- shit- say you’re- say you’re-”

“I’m yours, nii-san! Yours! Yours! I love you!”

A growl, a groan, a slam of his hips and then Katsuki is coming coming coming- filling you up to the brim and over it. You’re pushed over the edge and then you’re coming with him- mewling and clawing at him, pressing desperate and frantic kisses to him.

You only stop when his hips slow down, when he’s finished humping his seed into you. You’re both left panting then- his forehead pressed against yours and his cock softening inside of you, his eyes muddied and soft as they look over your dreamy, fucked out expression.

He slips out of you and he sets you on your feet- big hands landing on your waist to keep you steady and his lips finding yours in a slow, gentle kiss. Katsuki straightens your dress for you and he swipes smeared mascara out from under your eyes, presses a kiss to your forehead and has you sighing, letting out a soft and sweet noise of contentment.

“Mmm, I love you, nii-san...I love you so much...”

Katsuki huffs and he kisses you again- hand cupping your face, thumb smoothing over your cheek and you’re graced with a mumble in return- a quiet little “I love you too.”

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺

Twenty minutes later you’re sitting in the Todoroki’s living room- your big brother’s arm thrown over your shoulder, your panties stuffed in his pocket, his cum drying on your thighs and the last of his seed slowly oozing out of your cunt as you sit there and smile, lean against Katsuki.

You love your brother, you do.

You’ll always love your brother. You’ll always be his.

[palbabor-writes]

I know you said you only might accept pregnancy requests depending on what it is so I wanted to try 😅 how about shigaraki and reader break up while she’s unknowingly pregnant with his child and he bumps into said child years later and connects the dots that it’s his? If you don’t like it feel free to ignore this request 😊

I liked this nonnie.

I am terrified that by saying that I’m going to be inundated with pregnancy HC’s, lol. But, this request I really leaned into. Plus, it’s more about a kid than a pregnancy. 

So, thank you for asking and letting me slip out of my comfort zone. It’s always good to do that every once in awhile and this ask was a great reminder of that.

It’s a bit melancholic, but I think it fits with Tomura, at least, in my mind.

Now, this is not in canon. This is not like, pre-war arc, or post-war arc. If anything, it’s more of an AU. I’d put Tomura in his late 20s to early 30s.  

warnings: none really, just some sweet, sweet interactions and mild angst 

Hestia Hestia, in Greek religion, is the goddess of the hearth, a daughter of Cronus and Rhea, and one of the 12 Olympian deities. When the gods Apollo and Poseidon became suitors for her hand, she swore to remain a maiden forever, and Zeus, the king of the gods, bestowed upon her the honor of presiding over all sacrifices. 

The shouting noise of children set his teeth on edge.

Toga had insisted that the bus stop by the school was the best place for the information exchange.

They won’t look for you there, she’d assured him. It’s like hiding in plain sight. Yeah, it’s patrolled, but it’s only an old security guard who does the rounds. Besides, he’s retired from the police force, she qualified, and was more like a lazy cat than an attentive scent hound.  

It’s the best place, really.

So, Shigaraki had made the long trek across Tokyo.

He kept to the shadows as he weaved his way through back alleys and streets. Although the dominance of the League had waned some over the years, he was still a wanted criminal, responsible for countless death and threats on hero society.

He was still the King of his slice of the underworld.

Besides, he reassured himself as he loitered by the bench under the bus stop, he could trust Toga.

She had improved in leaps and bounds as she came of age; deadlier, sleeker, more attuned to the ebbs and flows of the world around her. She wasn’t that girl who chattered about blood anymore.

Oh, she still held a strange fascination with the fluid. But she had more control over those impulses that drove her. If she said it was the best place, well, who was he to argue? Toga had been with him from the beginning, a vital ally. Hell, at this point she was close to being a friend.

Shigaraki is still musing when the ball taps its way to his feet.

It clatters against the pavement; the rubber shuttling it along the loose rocks and leaves. Unthinkingly, Shigaraki lifts his shoe to balance against its unbound movement, stilling its lulling bounces.

Must be from that schoolyard, he thinks, his red eyes flashing up at the low chain-link fence that separates the school grounds from the busy street.

There’s no child dashing their way to retrieve it, so he lets his gaze slip from the teeming masses of giggling youngsters. It’s a pretty blue. The ball looks new. Hardly a scuffed and battered thing.

He keeps it under his sole, toying with it, rolling it meditatively as he slips back into his thoughts.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

It’s a small voice that calls to him and he turns his head back to the fence, looking for the source.

It’s a girl.

She’s leaning against the metal, her hands clutching into the links, cocking her head inquisitively at him.

Her nose wrinkles at his silence, and she shouts another demand.

“Mister, that’s my ball. Toss it back.”

“Aren’t you supposed to say please?” Shigaraki taunts, his lips lifting in a quick grin. He’s not sure why he’s bothering to engage with this kid, but something about her plucky attitude resonates with him.

She leans away from the fence, that scowl deepening on her soft features.

“Aren’t grown ups not supposed to steal things?”

He laughs at her snark. He can’t help it. Oh, this kid’s fun.

Carefully slipping the ball into his hands, he moves closer to the fence. He can see her a little better now.

She’s still got that deep frown on her face and her dark hair is gleaming in the afternoon sun, some strands catching the light, reflecting a deep, auburn, hue. He’s just about to chuck the ball to her when he catches sight of her eyes.

They’re red.

Not that red eyes are unusual. There are plenty of people milling around Tokyo with them. But hers are different.

No, these eyes are like looking into a mirror for Shigaraki. They flint and glare with the same sheen as his own. It’s a prefect reflection.

His feet suddenly feel heavy, leaden, and he can’t lift his arms. Who is this child? Why does she-

“Ok, ok, mister. Can I please have my ball back? You’re still stealing it if you don’t, so I’m not apologizing for that. I might... if you give it back to me, cuz’ it’s my ball, not yours. And, stealing makes you a thief.”

She’s rolling those uncanny irises at his stiff form, and a huffing sigh escapes her small mouth.

“What’s your name?” Shigaraki asks, hands trembling over the rubber of the ball.

“Not supposed to tell that to strangers, mister.”

He smiles again, bemused. Well, he thinks begrudgingly, she’s a clever little thing. Whoever she is.

A sharp bell echoes across the yard and she turns her head at the sound, her dark hair tumbling around her shoulders.

“Here,” Shigaraki relents, gently flipping the ball over the fence, bouncing it to her feet.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, quickly snatching up her prize. Those red eyes of hers meet his own, and he can feel a low shiver echo up his spine. What’s up with this reaction? It almost feels visceral, like some sort of otherworldly pull on him.

“Sorry I called you a thief,” she apologizes, quickly bowing her head, ducking those eerie eyes from view.

He’s not sure what to say, so he continues to watch her. She doesn’t seem perturbed by this, opting to giggle at him as her little head lifts.

“You’re weird,” she assess, a smile finally spreading over her lips, her cheeks rounding and softening. 

Tch, she’s rude, but she’s also cute, Shigaraki thinks, snorting at her frankness.

She turns, dashing away from him, her dark hair flowing around her back as she goes.

Shigaraki shakes his head, trying to dislodge those lingering questions that keep floating to the back of his mind.

He’ll never see her again, he reasons, wandering back to the bus stop. Trying to tamp down the urge to look for her again, to pinpoint her from the other giggling and shouting children on the playground.

But he did see her again.

He comes back to the stop a few weeks later.

There’s no information pickup this time. There’s no real reason for him to even be on this side of town.

He just can’t get her out of his mind.

This little kid had shaken something within his psyche. He kept dreaming about her. Well, not her, really. No, there was someone else haunting his dreams.

He hasn’t thought about you in years.

But now? Now, he can’t get you out of his head. He even feels like he can feel you some nights, warm against his side. He sulks in the memories of the familiar touches that the two of you shared, the love that you’d pressed into him, so, so long ago.

He saw the girl in those moments. Resting in your arms as you looked up, your eyes bright against her dark head. The girl would laugh and run to him, those reflective red eyes shining with mirth. 

It was fucking strange.

He both hated, and loved, the repetitive nature of these illusions. They made him feel safe and warm, but they also chilled him to his very bones. It was unsettling.

Unsure what else to do, he’d back come to the bus stop.

It’s early afternoon. Close to the time he’d visited it before. He waits on the lonely bench, his hands pressed together and that strange tremble races through his veins.

This is stupid, he thinks, his eyes lowering from the sea of kids, all twisting and turning in a heap as they play. It’s an impossibility, really. The chances of that girl losing her ball again is minuscule. There’s no way he can call to her either. It’s a waste. He shouldn’t even be here.

He’s standing to leave, when that small voice reaches him.

“Oh! You’re back.”

His head whips around, his long white hair glowing against the sunlight.

There she is.

She’s gripping the fence again, and she’s staring right at him.

Shigaraki smiles. It’s a gentle lift and he can feel his heart tapping a rough tattoo against his ribs. He steps toward her, kneeling when he gets close, careful to not overstep his bounds.

He’s not wanting to startle her.

No, he’s wanting to talk with her. Maybe she’ll drop some kinda clue why he’s so drawn to her. Or maybe she’ll morph into any other child again. Plain, uninteresting. Slipping from that odd ghost that she’s become to his subconscious. 

He hopes it’s the latter. But part of him also longs for it to be the former.

She’ll hop to the fence around 3:15.

She looks for him now, used to the routine of his presence.

He told her to call him Tomura, and the name falling from her lips made his heart ache.

Tomura stopped by on Fridays. Careful to not stay too long, to not draw too much attention to himself.

At first, he’d sneak her little trinkets. 

A little plastic toy of his, one that he had since he was a kid. She’d squealed with delight and clutched it to her. He’d grinned at that, remembering how he’d once held onto the thick plastic himself. 

Once, he’d just plucked a nearby flower as he walked to the school, presenting it to her outreached grasp. He’d watched proudly as she tucked it behind her ear, the color glossy beside her hair.

She’s still a sassy little thing. But she’s softened a little, too. Her voice losing that early, untrusting, edge.

He didn’t ask her much. Sometimes they both just sat in silence as she sketched designs into the dirt. Sometimes he would listen to her chatter about her day. Her classmates, her teacher. Once, she’d even pressed something over the fence to him.

It was a drawing.

He’s not sure if it really was all that well done, or if it’s just his heavy bias toward her. But he loves the mix of color and lines. He’d asked who the people were.

One was her friend, Kenji. One was her teacher. One was him.

He’d pinned it to the wall in his room. Displaying it, flaunting the gift. He looked at it every morning, admiring her work.

He’s late one day, and she scolds him, her small arms draping over the fence.

“I didn’t think you were going to come,” she chatters, her red eyes lingering against his, the two colors casting back the same hue.

“Was running behind,” Tomura replies, leaning against the low concrete barrier, resting his back against the fence.

Her little hands reach for his hair, playing with the pearlescent tendrils, weaving some into knots and braids. 

He doesn’t mind.

“Hey, Tomura,” she says, working a tiny hairband into her creation, her voice curious.

“Hmm,” he hums, careful to not shift his head, not wanting to disrupt her hard work.

“You didn’t ask my name again. At least… not after that one day.”

“Do you want me to ask?” He queries, his pulse lifting.

He’d wanted to ask her again, but he didn’t want to startle her, to shatter these innocences that they shared.

“It’s Beryl,” she answers. She says it confidently, and he turns to face her.

She grins at him, wiggling one loose tooth playfully at his serious expression, trying to tug a laugh from him.

“Beryl?” he repeats, unable to keep that awed hush from his raspy tones. It’s a pretty name. It suits her, really. But it’s strange. It’s not Japanese. 

You hadn’t been Japanese. 

“That’s a good name,” he assures her. “But, it’s not… you don’t hear that name very often.”

“Yeah,” Beryl concedes, her vermillion eyes roving over his face. “My mom’s not from here.”

His nostrils flare at that.

He hasn’t asked her about her mother. He’s unsure if it’s a general disinterest on his part, or trepidation. He fears it’s the latter.

Gulping, he tilts his head at her, feeling that soft braid she’s plaited into his hair shifting.

“Who’s your mother?”

“Who is she? She’s my mom, silly.”

“No,” he pauses, ignoring that creeping tremor that’s working its way to the top of his skull, his skin prickling and cooling. “I mean…what’s her name?”

“Oh! Her name is-”

“Beryl! Beryl, it’s time to come inside.” A teacher is calling for her. 

Tomura startles away, drifting to his feet and pacing quickly back to the bus stop. He can’t help the snarl that etches its way across his lips. He’d been so close. So fucking close…

He chances a glance back at the fence and catches sight of Beryl. She’s dashing across the playground, her dark hair waving in the sun.

Japan is about to slip into summer. School will come to a close, moving into a long break. He won’t see her again for almost a month.

His heart sinks at that realization and he grits his teeth. Slipping his hands into his dark trench coat, he steps across the street, away from the bus stop, away from the little girl that’s feeling more and more like his own.

Edit: oh hey. so, i couldn’t stfu about this and created a sequel: Materfamilias 

hahaha & part iii

[gigglinggoblin]

Whisper Drinkers: No More Words

Image used with permission from the lovely and fantastically talented Cody Darkstalker! Go check out her gorgeous collection on her Twitter, Instagram and Onlyfans!

[pov: anygirl, femdom, undead but sweet, nsfw, hypnosis, fantasy, intelligence reduction, pet play, headpats, leghumping, consensual, but you know maybe don’t actually drain your partner’s thoughts without asking them irl idk you should tell them if you’re a vampire thing that drinks words is all I’m saying]

"U-Um, so, so maybe I'm talking too much," Ami whimpered, as the mysterious woman next to her on the bed reached over, took her by the hand, and began to delicately caress it, running long and slender fingertips over Ami's palm and smiling slyly up at her, "it's just th-that I'm, um, well, see, I've never—never had anyone in my room before, is all."

The raven-haired beauty smiled up at her, hearts dotting her cheeks like freckles, luscious lips parted in a tempestuous pout. Her pretty jewelry caught the room’s rosy light so dazzlingly. So glamorous and glimmery...

Ami squirmed and barely held in a squeak as the woman beamed and scooted a little closer. She reached up and affectionately stroked Ami's cheek.

Then her hand slipped down to tug at the neckline of Ami's modest blouse.

"Oh!" Ami bit her lip, excitement trickling through her almost as fast as the red rushing to her cheeks. "I-I mean, well, see, of course I—" Her voice nearly broke as she felt her hand being guided to the woman's breast, guided to rest there, to gently feel the softness of the woman's skin, such a pretty hue of rosy-pink in the light.

"—it's not my room, of course," she corrected, cheeks burning, wiggling as the woman started undoing buttons on the blouse, undressing her even as she babbled. Why can’t I stop talking? Please, gods, let me stop talking.

"I mean, it is, because—well, I paid f-for the room, it's an inn, obviously. It's just tha—<i>aaaaat</I>—" She practically mewled as she felt her blouse being tugged away, as the woman leaned in even closer, and she breathed in that sweet minty perfume. Oh, fuck, this lady smelled so... so nice...

"Just that," she panted, but her words were scattering to the winds as those soft, luscious, pouty lips settled on her neck and began to kiss slowly, sweetly, indulgently across her skin, "just that, um, I mean, I-I've... I've, um... never..."

She felt a hand on her side, and without thinking, Ami allowed herself to be steered so she could be pushed back onto the bed.

Her head settled onto the pillow, and she was squirming and blushing and whimpering as she now felt the mysterious woman's cool, plush weight on her, pinning her to the bed, as those lips smacked indulgently along her neck and jawline. "... n-never," she whimpered, marveling at the softness of the breast as she squeezed and fondled it, "never... with..."

She trailed off into a moan as those wonderful kisses reached the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulders, as her sensible bra was undone to join the blouse beneath her.

Her head was starting to feel so... so bubbly. So fizzy. She actually giggled as she felt the woman's fingers running through her hair, stroking her with the utmost gentleness. "Oh, um, g-gosh," she gasped, wriggling, "you're... p-petting me l-like I'm s-some kind of... um... um... umm..."

Kitten. Puppy. Bunny. Pet. Silly girl who needs to be comforted and soothed. She struggled to form the words, desperate to fill the silence, but no sooner had the thoughts bubbled up into her mind than they were gone. She blinked dazedly, bubbles popping throughout her fizzy pink mind.

The kisses paused. The woman pulled up and blinked innocently down at her, parting those soft, kissable lips in a seductive pout.

Ami stared up into those eyes. Stared at those lips. A little whimper escaped her, but she found she didn’t... didn’t quite know what to say right now.

But even as she was given a brief reprieve from the kisses, Ami squirmed, feeling some... other attentions getting a lot more pronounced. That other hand was not being idle. Long, slender, delicate fingers ran over her breasts, groping, fondling, stroking in dainty spirals around her nipples.

Ami shivered. Even more tantalizingly, the strange woman's knee was placed right between Ami's thighs so... so perfectly, and the thought occurred to her that it would be so easy to just kind of... grind...

Her words melted away, and she giggled, quite forgetting exactly what she'd been trying to say. "Th-This feels... nice..." she mumbled, as more bubbles of pink pleasure popped in her mind, as she found herself grinding more and more overtly, unable to remember why she would ever hold back.

She let out a moan, and oh, gods, moaning felt so good... so much better than talking...

The woman smiled and cooed her pleasure with Ami, one of the first sounds, Ami realized dumbly, she'd heard the woman make so far. And then she forgot why this was strange, because the lady’s voice was so pretty, and knowing her lover was pleased just made Ami want to grind and hump harder as those kisses returned to her neck, her breasts, so soft and sweet and indulgent, and Ami mewled and whined happily.

She could no longer remember much of anything, actually, aside from feeling good. She humped the strange woman's leg like a wifwolf in heat, moaning and panting, because why would she need to babble and prattle when she could be making cute horny noises like those that seemed to please the woman so well?

She beamed and cooed and wriggled happily as the woman rose up slightly, those glowing crimson eyes shining like twin sunsets, so pretty, so happy with Ami.

Ami was being a good girl, Ami knew, even if her lover couldn't say it. And that realization was the sweetest feeling of all.

And Ami giggled and squealed and bounced and ground against the leg as she came, came under her skirt like a good girl, and made even more adorable noises in the process.

She was panting, red-faced, gasping for breath. She was drowning in the pink mist. Drifting in the fizzy pink bubbles.

But... she was still horny, she realized dimly, even in afterglow.

So, so horny.

She stared up into those bright lights and smiled dreamily as her beautiful pale lover leaned down for the softest of kisses, the stranger’s lips pillowy and fulsome, her own sighs of bliss impossibly faint but sending Ami into a daze of pleasure.

Ami wrapped her arms around her lover and moaned into the kiss, and happily allowed her inner thoughts to dissolve, for a time, into pure, sweet nothings.

The pale woman no longer felt cold. But maybe Ami was just blushing hot enough for the both of them now.

~ ~ ~ ~

Whisper drinkers are a rare and unusual form of vampire that drink not blood, or cum, or milk, but words themselves. Said to arise from those who died lost to their own worries and anxieties, the whisper drinker is often considered a benevolent spirit, as far as any of the Dead can be described as such. They are often drawn to the worried, tired or anxious, and with their kisses, they slowly ease the thoughts away, granting their lovers a brief reprieve, comfort and affection.

Spirit Rangers consider whisper drinkers to be very low-priority targets, though it is something of a controversial subject whether whisper drinkers truly understand what they are doing. Some argue that the whisper drinker acts as a nearly elemental being, purely occupied with her instincts, and cares nothing for those she lies with. Others, particularly those who form relationships with the mute undead, claim that there is far greater complexity to the whisper drinker than anyone truly understands.

[Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this story and want to read more like it, there’s absolute tons of content on my Patreon. For just a few dollars a month, you gain access to alternate Bad Ends, bonus stories, polls on future content, early updates, erotic text-based roleplay/D&D games, and much, much more! If you can afford to, consider pledging, so I can keep posting Tumblr fics like this one on the regular! Thank you! <3]

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[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

a/n: I sincerely apologize for the pain caused with last chapter...so naturally, i had to go and write more pain muahaha. i also apologize for the wait on this one, for some reason i had a weirdly hard time getting this one out of my head, ahhh i think I’m just lil sad about it all ending :( but! we’re almost out of the woods cuties!! thank you so very much reading as always!! <3 this is the second to last chapter and idk how to feel ahhhh 

Part 7 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung 

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!changbin, rapper!jisung, establishedfwb!jisung, artist!reader, skz side characters, bestfriend!chan, bestfriend!felix, roommate!minho, explicit language, some kissin’ and that good, good makin’ out, soft n’ intimate body touchinggg, mentions of getting drunk in the past, mentions of a toxic familial relationship, gahhh lots of crying and emotions in this one but it’s bc we’re figuring things out :) 

CW: dub-con-ish scene due to conflicting feelings but it gets stopped pretty quick

Word count: 7.6k 

Chapters 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART ? 

Jisung shared his apartment with two equally messy boys. You had forgotten their names despite meeting them and seeing them around on more than one occasion. Lucky for you, they each had distinguishing features so you named them as such: tall one and younger one with white hair. Once upon a time the four of you had hung out and they weren’t unbearable, just a bit cookie-cutter as you had called it. Both of them were in the same music school as Jisung and didn’t have many other interests outside going to music shows and playing PC games while loudly shouting. 

There was never food in that apartment but somehow there was always dirty dishes in the kitchen. Sure, it smelled a bit like dirty socks, but you never paid too much attention to that when you would clambering in the door with your lips locked with Jisung’s. It was strange walking in not doing so. Tall one and younger one with the white hair sat on the couch eating pizza with feet kicked up on their banged up coffee table. They didn’t say anything as they watched you walk in, but merely rolled their eyes and pretended that you weren’t there anymore. 

“We can go to my room.” Jisung raked his hand through his greasy brown strands, then kicked aside approximately ten pairs of sneakers. He held onto your hand tightly--so tightly that his knuckles turned white. 

You nearly slipped on that rug that lined the wooden floors of their hallway. It wasn’t the first time. 

Just as the rest of the apartment was, Jisung’s room was strewn with all kinds of random articles such as dirty clothes, tangled up cords and old to-go containers. His bed was unmade; it was those navy sheets that likely hadn’t been washed in several weeks. You could never really pinpoint what they smelled like, just that they smelled like him. You had spent nights there too, but they were nothing memorable. No groggy mornings with coffee or sunlight streaked onto his features for you to admire in the golden sheen. It had been running late to class and the dozens of times that you had left jewelry and hair-ties. 

“Wanna sit down?” Jisung patted the spot next to him, and you did so. 

The two of you sat in silence, the atmosphere became thick with the tangible sense of disaster that hung around the both of you. It was catastrophic.

His trembling hand came reaching for yours, and you let him take it. He sniffled, and it triggered your eyes to fill with the same hot tears. 

For the first time, you wondered, what am I doing here? 

“You want to lay down?” His puffy eyes asked you. 

You nodded, crinkling those bedsheets that were probably full of dust. 

In all your months of knowing him, you had never, never cuddled. This was the first time and you really weren’t even tied together anymore. 

His nose had turned pink, and he rubbed a bit of snot away with his wrist. 

“Thank you for coming here.” Jisung whispered. “But--what are you doing here? I thought that you were with Changbin now?” 

I am. You thought briefly. Am I? 

“I just...so confused right now. I don’t know...there’s just...I don’t know...” 

A tear fell down Jisung’s cheek, and you couldn’t fathom why he would be the one crying when it should’ve been you. You wiped it away. You had never thought of it before, but seeing him cry brought a sting to your chest. 

Jisung leaned forward, and the bed creaked lightly, then he kissed you. It wasn’t really a passionate one, but one that he had used to say more than he could himself. His lips tasted salty running over yours, and your brain froze deciding what to do. Jisung never changed: as broken as it felt, he was still starving, needy, and rough. You tried to find meaning in it, or if it made you feel. 

It didn’t. 

Jisung held your face in his hands, and with a hesitant sigh, he said, “I really, really wanted to do that for so long.” 

As desperate he had seemed for you, you couldn’t find the same desire if you had tried. Maybe, you had to find it? 

“Kiss me again.” You hushed. 

He licked his lips with a gaze softening. “Okay.” 

This time he swung his legs around your hips and straddled you with the kind of pressure that you had craved, once upon a time. He bent down to press even more of his heated desire on your skin. He was a good kisser, and you remembered once again how you really had wanted to have him kiss you like this, once upon a time. His tongue slicked against your bottom lip and you gave him the permission, testing it out just to see. 

You had thought back then that he was unreal. 

Jisung rutted his hips down into your waist, and you had already felt how he had hardened in his sweatpants. 

You knew how it would go...or how it used to.

“Baby, I want you so bad. You have no idea. I-I don’t think that I want anyone else besides you--” He broke to meet your eyes. Your world blurred, and sobbed out from under his gaze. 

What am I doing here? 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Worry flooded over his face. 

“I-I can’t do this, I shouldn’t do this, fuck--what the fuck am I doing?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Please just...get off of me. Please...” 

He did so, but still looked just as shocked. “Did I do something wrong?” 

He too started to tear up again. At last you could finally name what it was that tugged at his soft brown eyes. Fear. 

“Can you please tell me what I did wrong? Y/n, I don’t understand, you’re confusing me so much--” 

“--This isn’t right Jisung!” You nearly yelled with broken sobs. “We aren’t right.” 

Jisung’s face fell, crestfallen. “N-no--” 

“--We destroy each other!! Don’t you see?? Never have we ever been happy together, we’re just...coping! That isn’t love!!” 

“Then why the hell am I in love with you??” Jisung spat out the words, and then it was immediately evident that he had regretted saying them. 

A deadly silence fell over the room, and all that was left was the both of your weak sniffles. 

“What did you just say?” 

Jisung grabbed one the pillows then threw it down on the floor with a poof. 

“Fuck!!!” He literally shouted. His face had turned red, and snot dripped down to his lip. “I have fucking feelings for you okay?? Is that enough for you?” 

“Ji...yo-you can’t--” 

“I can’t what?! Is it a fucking crime? Listen, I’m scared out of my fucking mind saying this to you, alright? I don’t know why the hell I am but--” 

“--We-we can’t, Jisung..” 

“Can’t what?!” He threw his hands up into he air in his exasperation. “Stop fucking confusing me!!” 

“We destroy eachother.” 

Jisung grabbed another pillow to pummel to the ground, but then stopped himself, digging his fingers into the fabric until his nailbeds turned white. 

“We hurt eachother too much. An-and...I don’t think that it’s really our fault either. It’s just...who we are. I can’t give you what you want and you can’t give me what I want.” 

Jisung sobbed out horribly, then buried his face in his hands. 

“But I fell in love with you...?” His voice was terribly cracked. 

You watched as tears dropped into your lap and made little wet dots on your jeans. “I fell in love with Changbin...” 

His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, but still glistened, like the way that oil would slick in rainbows with the snow. 

“Then what are you doing here?” He asked one more time, but now he had appeared to be utterly broken. 

You rose from the bed, looking down at him and drying your face. “I...think I know why.” 

“And?” 

Outside of Jisung’s window, the view was similar to your own: city lights in an array of colors; each of them like stars on the ocean. On the wall adjacent from his bed, you noticed there was a crack. You had never realized that it was there before. 

“I’m admitting something that I should’ve a long time ago.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

You had likely forgotten to close a window in your apartment somewhere because the winter cold had pervaded the whole space. It took you about ten minutes to realize that it was in your bathroom from when you had taken a shower earlier to air let out the steam. 

The second thing that you noticed was the crumpled up blanket resting on the couch from before. For some odd reason, you felt the strong desire to wrap it all around yourself like you could capture some essence of him in it. Sure enough it did smell like that scent of his that you had grown so used to. You let the blanket trail behind you has you made your way to your room to pull on one of his shirts over your head. 

“Who told you that you could look so cute in that?” He had said one time. 

[23:16] Bin

me: can i call you? 

[00:18] Bin 

me: if you’re asleep, can I call you in the morning? if that’s okay? i said things that I didn’t mean...i just didn’t know it then. 

i’m so sorry 

how i treated you...you didn’t deserve that 

i understand if you’re mad at me. you have every right. 

i’m sorry that i couldn’t see that things that you were trying to show me. 

i see them now. 

You had thought that now the snow had finally faded into the edge of the winter that near it’s conclusion. Early March, and you wanting nothing more for spring buds to peep from the snow capped floral beds on street corners and for the white hugging the trees to dissapear forever. The winter had felt as if it had lasted for a year--even though this year you had seen less snow than other years. 

There had been a time when you firmly believed that once the snow melted, it would get better. Snow was a bitter memory, and it was curse that had to happen each and every year. 

The night that you had met Changbin, it had been cold. Cold like the winter that you had tried to hide from. You hadn’t thought of it until now, but he was much like the way that snowflakes melted on your skin. It reminded you of the icy coldness of the world for fleeting moments, then faded just as quickly as it arrived. The little wet mark of him warmed on your skin. 

Outside of the miniscule window to your living room, snowflakes got caught up in the edges of the frame, and sprinkled the surface of the glass in their variety of gorgeous fractals and unique shapes. A full moon was painted into the sky with a brightness that could’ve paralleled the sun on this clear night swimming in deep azure. 

You hugged the fabric of one of his shirts even closer to your frame, pretending for a moment that it was him that had been hugging you and not the cotton. 

“I’m so sorry.” You cried out weakly to the empty room. 

Your phone screen flashed with the time: [00:42]. You wondered, maybe he really had given up like he said that he would’ve. Maybe he walked home in the shivering cold, hands shoved into his pockets and decided that he was done waiting; that you weren’t worth his time and the effort. Maybe he walked in his front door, closed it behind himself, and said the words, This is it. No more. Maybe he walked into his room and cried. Maybe he didn’t. You couldn’t decide if you had wanted him to cry for you or not. Both hurt. 

[01:13.]  

Your eyes dragged with sleep, but your mind moved faster than the pace of your dry eyelids. Dust had settled on the white sheet that you had drawn over the painting in your room. On the underside of the sheet, globs of acrylic had dried and turned into multicolored flecks: a bit like the sheet was a piece of art and and of itself. It was nearly finished, and only had about one more quadrant left that was void of color. 

Your wooden pallet had been resting by the window, so it was cold to the touch--as were the little aluminum bottles of paint resting beside it. You used your shirtsleeve to dry away one tear that had battled its way to your lid, then sat back on your desk chair, facing the easel head on. 

Black first. Then deep blue, then bright yellow, burnt orange and gold. 

Hairs brushed over the canvas, and swept in wide strokes back and forth. With an empty mind, you smeared over the dark colors that faded to the edge of the canvas into the glowing light of the edge of the alleyway painted here. His figure was prominent, even though you couldn’t see his face. He wore black clothes that were simple. Frankly, you didn’t really remember what he had worn that night, but it didn’t matter much. Neon blue and red restaurant signs met on as reflection on his dark black hair. 

It was as if your chest and hand had been weighted down even further, but you fought through it to raise them. While you let the tears fall at first, they dried after long and made the skin of your cheeks tout. The room was silent, and so it was outside with the drifting snow. Soon, the painting would be finished, and you could sleep. You couldn’t sleep until then. 

if your art didn’t mean anything, what even was it? 

The pink lights lining your room provided the only light to the room, however not much else was needed than that. 

You bit your lip, now mixing yellow with red. 

If you couldn’t tell him. You hoped with every fiber that this would. 

[04:51] Bin 

me: if you’re up to it, can we talk? or, i can call you? 

goodnight  

wait its morning 

good morning then. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Chan was good at keeping his promises. There was not one time in your whole time in knowing him that he hadn’t kept a promise, no matter how absurd it might’ve been. He had promised you to buy you ice cream on the first day of snow, and he had promised to share his lyrics with you, no matter how much they would make him cringe. He promised that if you ever needed someone to watch your guilty pleasure reality shows with, he would be over as soon as he could. Next to Felix, you had figured a long time ago that if there were ever people in your life that you were destined to meet, he was one of them. Admittedly, there had been a time when you had harbored a crush on him, but as usual, you had been best at getting in your own way before anything could’ve happened. This, and you loved him as a friend too much. 

Too many jell-o shots were both of your enemies. Halfway into the driest seven minutes in heaven of your life, and halfway into your confession to him, he had passed out right in your arms. You were lucky that he had forgotten the event entirely. Or, he was keeping his promise that you had hurriedly made asking him to forget that it ever happened when you and Felix carted him out of there. 

While he was good at keeping promises, you more so wished that he had forgotten that one. 

Chan had promised that he would personally use his ID card to get into the soundproof booth in the music department to scream. 

You hadn’t ever taken him up on the offer until today. 

It was nearly midnight and unopened text messages still sat in in empty bubbles on your phone screen. 

Even though you had consistently texted “good morning” and “goodnight” for three days straight, the action of sending them didn’t make you feel any better. 

Chan didn’t ask any questions, but merely let you through the halls which echoed from your squeaking wet shoes. The green light of emergency signs appeared to be the only guiding lights, but Chan knew the way well. 

“Careful. The floor is slippery. They mop after everyone leaves.” He hushed in the silent hallway. 

Your fingers and lips cracked from the cold and felt tingly warming up in the dry heat of the building. The two of you turned two more corners, then Chan carefully wrapped his veiny and red hand over the handle to the door marked with “Studio Five.” He tapped his key to the reader, and it beeped with flashing green and orange lights. 

“Here. This is the entrance to the booth. I’ll enter from that door to get to the other side of the glass. You don’t...want me to go in with you?” 

“Want me to wreck your ears?” You have him a feeble smile. 

He mustered his own kind of strength that he had been keeping up just for you. “Hm. You’re right.” Your friend clicked on the light, and it burned your eyes at first compared to the black hall. “Take...all the time that you need, I’ll just be over there. If you wanna...talk about things, I’m here for that too.” 

The booth was an ugly shade of lime green, and you wondered how anyone could ever be creative in a place such as this. On the other side of the tinted glass, you watched as Chan flicked on the light, then made his way to push the button to the little intercom system. His voice buzzed with a tinny sound. 

“No one can hear you, so....go nuts.” 

The walls were too padded with black foam insulation, and for a moment you considered how strange it was, that you, had entered that place to scream--not make music like the room had been used to. Even though the walls were lime green. It still brought a sense of sadness to your chest. 

The room spun lightly behind your eyes, and you panted out frantically. 

What the hell am I doing in here? 

[23:29] bin 

me: I hope that you sleep well tonight. i’m thinking of you. 

“Is everything okay in here?” Chan’s voice said over the speakers. 

“W-what am I doing here?” You repeated the question, feeling panic rise up your throat. 

“Getting your anger out?” He tiled his head. “I-I don’t know why else because you didn’t tell me. You angry at someone? Something?” 

“N-no? --I mean, yes...I-I don’t know.” You said with uncertainty. Suddenly the foam walls of the room started to close in. “I need to get out of here.” 

“Woah! Woah! Y/n! What’s--” Chan chased you out of the room, back into the empty hallway with the squeaky floors and the green light. 

“Hey, let’s just...take a breather here for a sec.” Your friend reached out to smooth down your arms. “If you wanna talk about it, I can help maybe?” 

You tore from his gasp, then slumped against the wall to slide all the way down and sit on the cold linoleum floors with the heaters pumping steadily above your head. 

“He’s not...messaging me back, and I think that I royally fucked up this time. I think that I finally did it, I finally pushed him too far.” 

“Who? Changbin?” Chan crouched down to sit next to you. “Is that what this is about?” 

Shallow breaths filled up your lungs, “I think...I think I just lost everything that I could’ve had with him, and it’s all my fault...I’m fucking angry at myself, Chan.” 

“A-are you sure?” 

“I basically told him that I didn’t know if I wanted to be his girlfriend...after everything that’s happened, everything that he’s done and how patient he’s been...but...there was Jisung an-and...I realize that I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it, I want to be with him so fucking badly and I was just too caught up to see it and--” 

“--Stop!” Chan barked. “Stop and give yourself a second to breathe! Did you realize that you’re not doing that? 

You hadn’t. Nor had your noticed your shaking hands. However, Chan had seen them, and held them with his. 

“You said that you do want to be with him but you told him that you didn’t?” 

Somewhere in the hallway, one of the emergency floodlights blinked with a harsh white light. 

“Yes.” 

“And did you tell him that you didn’t mean it?” 

“I have but he hasn’t gotten back to me? He would always get back to me, no matter what it was--it makes me worry--” 

Chan cupped your hands then brought them to his chest where he held them earnestly. “Some things are out of our control, Y/n. And, I hate to say it but, now, I think you need to come to accept the possibility that maybe...” His gaze softened. “I’m sorry. I wish I could say something more or better but I’m not him and I can’t know...” 

You scoffed, “Is that supposed to be comforting?” 

Chan tsked, as he often would do with a little sarcastic drag to his voice. “A long time ago I promised you that I would always be honest with you, and you know that I hold to my word.

He rubbed his thumb into your hands. 

“Do you want me to say then to go running after him? Throw it all to the wind? Even if it doesn’t end up going your way?” 

“...Maybe.” You swiped a tear from the corner of your right eye. “Would it be worth it?” 

“Maybe.” He sighed. 

A silence filled the hall and the space between you two, and Chan kept holding your hand. It was a simple touch, but you hadn’t realized that you had craved something as such. 

“Y/n? Can I say something?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Even if it isn’t him that it ends up being, I think that you should know that you still deserve happiness in someone. Even after all that you’ve been through, you still do. It sounds like to me...you’re finally realizing it.” He smiled with a bit of a wrinkle to his lips. “I’m proud of you.” 

You squeezed his hand. “Thank you. Its...been a long time coming.” Your head hit the wall behind you with a slight thud. “I’ve been painting recently. And...it means something to me. I feel like I found something, like I’m seeing something for the first time in a long time and it makes me really... full. Like he does.” 

Your friend let go, then went to play with his shoe-laces. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was the final straw?” 

“He just...loved me different. Better than I ever could myself, and I think that it made me realize that in order for me to love him too, I had to make peace with myself, and just...” You breathed out a laugh, “...Chill the fuck out. But--I know that I can’t let go of it forever. What happened, made me. I can’t give that up, but that doesn’t mean that I should wallow in it forever. I don’t deserve that.” 

Chan leaned to give you a light slap to the arm. “Look at you.” 

“I...saw Jisung too.” 

While anger laced his voice, Chan remained level headed. “...And?” 

“Me and him just dug ourselves into a deeper hole. Even he...he could do better. He needs a “Changbin” too. You know? I can’t be that for him. I never was even close. I feel sorry. I should probably see him one last time...” 

The image of Jisung’s disparaged face burned in your memory in the midst of it all. Somehow you had forgotten that he had gotten feelings tangled it up in it all, and you had just left. Through all that you had been through with him, you couldn’t let it just go so easily. 

“There’s a lot of things that I need to make right.” You sighed out with finality. Next to you, your best friend did the same. 

“Whatever happens, Felix and I will be here for you. Like always.” 

“Mm. Thank you, Chan. Really. Thank you so much. The two of you are the best friends that I could ask for. I don’t know how you put up with me...” 

“Ahhh, don’t mention it.” He shoved his shoulder into yours playfully. “Ya know, if this goes south, we could just date.” 

“What?!” Your head whipped over to him so hard it hurt. 

“As I recall, about a year ago all it took were some jell-o shots...” 

You smacked him upside the head, causing him to burst out laughing in that empty hall. 

“I told you to forget about that!!” 

“I’m just joking!! Jeez! Can you take a joke!?” 

You laughed with him, your goofy and kindhearted best friend. You realized it hadn’t happened in quite some time. 

“Yeah Changbin is alright, but me and Felix are forever. Got it?” He teased, and you slumped your head on his shoulder. 

“I know.” 

In your pants pocket, your phone vibrated and flashed with a white light. 

[01:36] L. Minho 

minho: i fucking hate that i’m in this position 

but 

bin’s in a bad way and i’m fairly certain that he hasn’t told you about it all 

idiot. 

anyway, his parents are being shitty assholes and i think that he really needs you right now, even if he isn’t saying anything about it. actually i know that he does. 

i also wanna ask you to kindly resolve whatever shit that you have going on before you walk in our door. out of kindness for both yourself and him. 

sorry not sorry. i really do love the both of you and it hurts me to see it be like this. 

i suggest that you come over as soon as you can. 

Your heart beat its way into your throat with a million emotions, but out of them all, fear for Changbin ached the most. 

 “Chan, I have to go.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

It was likely Minho who had buzzed you in. 

Luckily, the night had somehow gotten warmer--at least warm enough to where you couldn’t see your breath in front of your face any more. Unfortunately though, you had still worn the shoes that Changbin would scold you for wearing on snow-packed nights. Luckily, the snow had started melted too. 

The door clicked when it unlocked, and you slid inside the glass entrance that was smudged with fingerprints and the wet from dog’s noses pressing on the surface. 

For a reason unknown to you, you decided to take the stairs--even though he had lived on the seventh floor. Partially you had decided that you had done so because it meant that you had more time with your thoughts; more time to decide if you really had resolved all the shit that you needed to leave on the outside of his doorstop. 

You thought back to the painting sitting finished in your room. It waited in all of it’s beauty for the sun to shine on it and the rest of the world to see it. For him to see it. It was for him that you had painted it in the first place. Every ounce of pain and confusion was lathered across the canvas, it was bare for anyone to see after you had kept it concealed for so long. 

He would see it. 

You took each step slow and carefully, and listened to the way that the sound bounced off of the walls and how the carpet matted on each stoop.

Chan had said, “Even after all that you’ve been through, you still do.” 

Minho opened the door after three clicks wearing a bathrobe and slippers. For being so distressed like his message had said, he looked perfectly cozy. You remembered that Minho really was one to keep it all together when shit would get intense. Somehow he had the ability to write whole papers over the course of one day and had passed tests after studying for only four hours. You wished you could manage as well as he could. 

“Fuck. It’s late.” He rubbed his eyes. “Come in. Take off your shoes please.” 

You did so, and rubbed your toes into their carpet. It was almost as if you were waiting further instructions, but you knew full well what you had to do. 

Minho glared at you expectantly. “Well? Shits left outside?” 

“Shits left outside.” You repeated with a nod. 

“l’ll let him explain. It isn’t really my place. Just--listen to him okay? I think that’s what he needs right now.” 

The apartment itself was a bit barren, the only things that were placed in the small space were the things that the inhabitants needed: a dining table, a leather couch, a TV set, a few beanbags and a kitchen kept clean by Minho. It was strange seeing a place so organized and...neat. It was as if this apartment was from an other side of the world compared to what you had grown used to previously. Changbin’s thick and dark black coat hung on one of the dining chairs, the same that he had worn the night that he had last seen you. You wondered if it had been sitting there these past few days. 

“Go on.” Minho flapped his hands to usher you down the hallway to Changbin’s room. At the end of the hallway was the bathroom, and seeing it flooded your skin with the feeling of warm water and defrosting skin, lips on lips with heated desire; tracing fingertips that got caught with the translucent stream of water as they brushed down spines and hips. If you could’ve gone back to then and done it all over...you wondered if you would’ve. 

“Knock first.” Minho mouthed. 

You did, breath hitching when it opened slightly, and you called out his name. “Bin? Its me. Can I...can I come in?” 

His hesitant voice called back to you, “Yes.” 

He was a crumble on his bed, black socks twisted up with his dark bedsheets and his hoodie riding up his back to expose a sliver of skin where he laid facing away from the door. His beautiful dark hair was knotted. 

“B-Bin? A-are you okay?” You advanced forward carefully, reaching out to touch his arm. You had never seen this confident and headstrong man reduced to something so small, it broke your heart into shards to see him as such. You didn’t know what to do with yourself: sit with him? Stand? Crawl in to bed next to him? Unspoken words filled the air, and he sniffed out loudly into it. 

“Thank you for messaging me still.” Was what he had said first. “I saw them a little bit ago. I was...too scared to open them at first...your messages. I was...ashamed to...” 

“--Bin,” You took two steps closer. “You don’t have to explain yourself.” 

He sniffed in with a clogged nose once more. “I’m sorry.” 

Two more steps. “No, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry that I didn’t listen to you, and took all of your patience with me for granted. I really don’t deserve it. I tore you up, and that was awful of me. You somehow ended up being collateral damage to me figuring my shit out and I can’t say I’m sorry enough. I understand if you don’t want to keep this going that we--” 

“--Can you get into bed with me?” He suddenly interjected. Changbin twisted his hand back as if he knew that yours was there in some superhuman way, and grabbed at it. “It’s...cold.” 

Your heart paused, uncertain if you had heard him correctly. 

“Please?” Changbin muttered. “Two bodies is warmer than one.” 

Silently, you crossed the room and shimmied off your coat so it fell to the floor. It had been partially absentminded, but you had pulled on one of his shirts that day. It was light grey, and had nearly lost all semblance of his scent on it. You pulled the covers over both of you, peering just enough to see his puffed and red eyes and red wet nose. Seeing him like this, you had to fight every instinct to pull him into your arms, but rather keep a respectful distance. 

From seeing the way that he dominated the stage to how he looked under the soft glow of your pink lights, to how he had looked as thin and as fragile as glass now, it had all finally made sense to you. As brash and forthcoming as he was, it wasn’t all of who he was in the slightest. If anything, it was who he had pretended to be. 

Tears fell over his pink lips. “I didn’t tell you because...I was embarrassed. Fuck,” He laughed a little, “It’s so fucking pathetic. I’m so pathetic for getting so messed up over this all. I-I shouldn’t. That and...it’s not something that you should--”

“--Don’t you dare say that I shouldn’t worry about this Bin. How many times do you need me to say it?” You traced his dark hair over his ear. “What happened to being each other’s problems?” 

He smiled with a weak grin, then wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “Minho didn’t tell you?” 

You shook your head. “He said that you should be the one to.” 

Changbin sighed out, then pulled the comforter up to his nose, adjusting himself to meet your eyes with his that were strained with pink. 

“They’re disowning me. For real this time. They asked me to do a legal name change and everything...as if...they’re cutting me out of the family line. Fuck, I mean, they basically are.” 

His chest shook with an inhale, and a thick and burning mucus felt as if it had clung to your throat. It was anger and rage, the kind that was so foreign to you, it even started you to feel such a thing. 

“Bin, I’m so sorry. They’re...they’re fucking less than human is what they are. Treating you their own son like this...like they think that they can reverse time so that you were never even born of them...” Under the sheets your knuckles clenched so hard it bit the skin of your palms. “I-I’m sorry too...that you were going through this by yourself--” 

In one single motion he had spread out his arms to circle them around your upper body and pull it into hm. 

There he was again. Rosemary and cedarwood. 

You were in shock, but feeling the warmth from his body on yours made you shiver--it was the contact that you had craved so intensely now that you had it, it was so all encompassing that your brain scrambled feeling it. 

“Thank you for coming.” He whispered to the top of your head. 

Your hands snaked around his body, and you held him back. 

In that very moment, you had decided that you would spend the rest of your life holding him back if he would let you. If there was someone out there listening to your thoughts, you prayed that they would let you hold him. 

Changbin patted to top of your head with a trembling hand.

“What the fuck do I do?” 

Your fingers tugged at the thick cotton of his hoodie. 

“They said that either I meet with them to sign away my name, or I pack up, and go back with them as if nothing happened. They said that they were willing to “forgive” everything that I had “done” if I chose to come back home with them, so to school, and forget everything that I’ve ever written, performed...” 

“They said that??” 

The young man remained silent, but instead nuzzled further into you. 

“They said that they could arrange for a meeting with their legal team to finalize it in as little as two days if I decide to do it. Those assholes expedited the whole process and called up their lawyers to make it happen as quick as possible...” 

“Bin...” You cooed, and smoothed up and down his back. Being close to him like this you could nearly feel his own heart breaking in his chest against yours. 

“Do I forget everything that I was to chase this...dream? Or do I go back, get their support, live a normal life...” 

“--Stop.” You gently pushed his hand away to look up at him. “This, all of this is your life Changbin. It’s what you’ve worked hard for relentlessly and it’s what makes you happy, isn’t it? Yeah, it’s harder to do, but you’ve gotten so far, people love you! You’ve made a name for yourself, people want to hear your music--” 

“--Yeah, my names gotten itself out there a little too well for my parent’s opinions.” 

You wiped a tear cascading from one of his exhausted eyes. “They should be proud of you, not trying to suppress you.”  

“They...don’t want me to be Changbin any more. Do you know how that feels? I’ve lived my whole life being me and now they just want to take away the very last thing that I have that they didn’t touch?” He stifled a sob. 

“Hey! Just because you change it on paper, doesn’t mean we have to call you that!” You laughed out gently, “If you want to get a driver’s license or something it might be important...but, you’re always going to be Changbin to me, and Minho and everyone else who knows you. A name is just a word. You make up who you really are.” 

Changbin laughed out, then returned his hand to pat at your head. 

“Who told you to say that?” 

You chuckled back at the way that he had turned your words back on you. “No one.” 

“I’m just me, but...” Under the covers, your legs intertwined. “I think that if we compare a life of missed oppurtunties to a life where you leave a couple things behind, its worth leaving.” 

Body heat swirled between the two of you, and it was as calming as a song. Changbin brought his hand down to caress the side of your cheek with as much gentleness one would with those fragile snowflakes. 

Past his shoulder, your eye caught a small piece of paper that had been pasted to the wall above his desk: right in a space where he could see it if he had sat at his desktop. It was crinkled and held several creases and the lead that had been used to draw on it had smudged as if it had rubbed up against itself. 

It was a picture of a bench, some Christmas lights, and the city skyline behind it.

Tears flooded your eyes, and then fell freely onto his his fingers where he held your face. They caught in the corners of your mouth, and heated up your eyes. 

“Woah, hey, what is it?” Changbin rubbed away the wet and pulled you even closer to him. 

“Y-you kept it?” Your voice wavered. 

“Kept what?” 

You pointed a shaking finger to your drawing posted on the wall, and his eyes widened at first like he was embarrassed, then he slowly faded into something much softer. 

He nearly whispered the words, “Of course.” 

“W-why?” 

“It reminded me of you and that night. I think that I realized something then.” 

“What’s that?” He wiped your tears once more, stretching the skin of your face as he did so. 

“I realized that, well...I’m in over my head here.” He laughed out lightly. “Do you need me to say it again? I love you a fuck ton, alright? Getting over things, and healing from things...it’s not easy. You...don’t have to apologize for the mess of things and what it did to you. It’s not your fault.” 

You threw your head into the crook of his neck to sob openly. But I hurt you. I made you wait...I-I don’t wait you to wait any longer.” 

“And I made you wait too. My stupid...my parents fucked me up too, and I couldn’t get over the fact that this fucking mess that they made of me put a wedge between me and you. I didn’t feel like you deserved...I’m a mess too. A fucking nervous, cocky bastard at times and I don’t know how to talk about it. Isn’t that pathetic?” 

“What?? No--” 

“You wanna call it even then?” He grinned out, and it was his sly little smile that you had found yourself thinking of after you had seen it for the first time those months ago. 

“I--” 

“Damn. It does feel kinda good to talk about things.” He joked. 

You cried out his name even harsher, then melted into his whole body. He was boundless in the way that he had understood you, and how he had looked you without condition or pause. 

You don’t have to be scared any more. 

With your face muffled in the fabric of his shirt, you let the words fly of your tongue with reckless abandon, and it felt as if you had finally been rid of the crushing shroud fogging your mind, and chaining your heart. 

“I-I want you to be...my Changbin. An-and I want to be--” 

“--Wait!” Changbin pulled you back by the shoulders with a new and wild smile on his face that only grew wider by the second. A type of excited panic flamed in his chocolate brown eyes. “Willyoubemygirlfriend???” He said at light speed. 

You were confused as to why he had said it as such, but you nodded, finally feeling the sense of respite that you had searched so hard for. “Y-yes?” 

Changbin startled you with his sudden crack of laughter, then squeezed you so tight that it became hard to breathe. Once he let go looser, he bowed in deep to press dozens of kisses on your mouth and around it. Most of them missed the mark, but that didn’t matter to him. He only stopped for a couple moments to mutter the words, “I wanted to say it first.” You would’ve laughed had he not been attacking you incessantly with more and more pecks that you struggled to keep up with. 

“I-I’m sorry again that I made you wait--” 

Changbin rolled his weight over to lean carefully over your body tangled up in the sheets, then kissed away at your lips with “don’t say that’s “ quietly. “Thank you for trusting me.” He said quickly, then returned, pouring out oceans of admiration onto your lips until they felt a little raw. You kissed him back too, and you kissed him like you wanted to spend your whole life holding him back. His blissful little “oh’s” tickled at your lips, and you giggled at the way that they vibrated. 

Once you had properly kissed nearly all of the air out of each other’s lungs, you laid back, gasping, and each still a bit bewildered. 

“Thank you for trusting me too.” You turned your head to look at him where he lay with quickened breaths quaking his chest. 

“When I go through with this name thing, can you...be there?” 

“Yes.” 

“Thank you.” He said, barely loud enough for you to hear. His strong hands fell down his shirt which you wore; down to the small of your back where he snuck up the fabric. His fingers tickled at your tiny hairs there. 

“I have one more loose end to tie myself. One more place that I need to make peace.” 

Changbin nodded. “Mm. We’ll get through it together.” 

To your surprise, Changbin then took to pulling his sweater over his head, revealing his bare chest, then pulled off his pants from his legs a bit awkwardly under the covers. 

“W-what are you doing?” 

He giggled, then pulled at the hem of your shirt for you to do the same. 

“Trust me.” He whispered. 

You held his eyes as you did, and your bare skin too met the crinkling edges of the sheets which were a bit colder than you had expected. Changbin watched as you did so with a prideful little grin. 

“I-I’m confused.” You hugged your arms over your cold torso. 

“You’re so gorgeous.” He merely muttered, uncrossing your arms for him to look at you fully, then pulled you by the under sides of your chin back to his lips. He pulled gently at your bottom lip with his teeth. “Clothes were getting in the way.” He hushed, then set to unhooking your bra behind your back. 

“Getting in the way of what?” 

“Me being as close to you as I possibly can.” 

While he had said the phrase calmly, it still sent heat rising straight to your cheeks. 

“I want to hold my love like this for as long as she’ll let me. Can I?” 

Your two bodies met in the middle, flush, buzzing with a kind of giddy energy that only heightened the more curious that your hands got eating up each other’s presence. 

“As long as you’ll let me do the same.” 

You couldn’t quite tell, but it had almost felt as if Changbin had scribbled little invisible messages into the skin of your back. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” He answered. 

You took his wrist to kiss at the line of a scar that lived there. Naturally, Changbin blushed rosy from the action--then promptly pretended that he just hadn’t. 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

[themandhoelorian]

Dincember - November 30: Snow

summary: Din’s determined to make your stay on this miserable ice planet as short as possible, but you and the kid don’t mind taking your time in the snow.

pairing: din djarin x gn!reader

warnings: angst that quickly becomes fluff, episode 10 spoilers, the smallest bit of canon-typical violence, some swearing?, the cute little green dude, Din is Soft for you uwu

word count: 3.1k

a/n: ahhh hi welcome to my first fanfiction ever!! I’m excited and very very nervous about posting this, but I've been wanting to write my tin can husband for a while and thought dincember might just be the push I needed to start. part of me hopes I’m just screaming into the void, but if you’re reading this, I hope you enjoy it! happy dincember y’all <3

***

Din doesn’t like snow. 

It’s cold and wet and irritating and it creates a layer of frost on his armor that leaves stubborn smudges on the beskar even after he’s dried off. It’s a practical nightmare that Din quite frankly doesn’t have the patience to deal with, but the snow itself isn’t even what bothers him most.

It’s the planets that are covered in it that he really can’t stand. 

Din’s been on his fair share of ice planets, and not once has he found something appealing among the white plains, just deadly ravinaks and mindless criminals and giant ice spiders. If he had his choice, he would never step foot on one again. 

He’s not sure why any reasonable person would want to either.

So when he hears you gasp from the copilot seat as the frosty white orb comes into view, he assumes that it’s because you’re dreading having to land on this ice planet too.

He knows this is what he hired you for, to follow him wherever he needed to go and take care of the child, but he can’t help but feel a little bad that he’s brought you to yet another dreadful planet. Whenever the three of you land somewhere dangerous, which recently has been more often than not, he insists that you and the child stay on the Crest so he knows you’ll be safe. You never complain, always complying to his requests with a shy smile and dutifully looking after the child, but he can tell you’re growing weary of being holed up in the ship all the time. 

Your eyes don’t sparkle like they used to, the way they did when you first joined his crew and you would break into a dazzling grin every time you landed on a new planet. 

You don’t talk to the kid in excited whispers anymore as you teach him about the forests or the oceans or the sand, giggling as you bring his little green fingers to the ground and let him feel the difference in the landscapes. 

Din’s afraid he’s killed the wonder traveling with him used to bring you, he’s afraid he’s ruined it for the kid too, and Maker, he wishes he could see your face light up the way it used to. He wishes he could see you and the kid overwhelmingly happy again.

But here he is, leaving you both stuck in the middle of a frozen wasteland for what’s sure to be a less than happy few hours while he goes off to find another bounty. He wants to apologize before he leaves, but he can’t seem to find the words for how kriffing bad he feels. Even if he did, he knows you would just brush it off anyways, offer him that sweet smile that makes his face heat up and assure him that the two of you would be just fine on the ship.

So instead, he instructs you to keep the ship running, to stay warm and be ready to take off as soon as he gets back, before he hurries off into the dense swathes of snow. He doesn’t even tell you to stay on the Crest, in too much of a rush to leave before your dewy eyes can convince him to forget the quarry and take you somewhere nicer. 

He’s halfway to the location when he realizes it, but he figures there’s no use turning back to remind you when he’s sure you wouldn’t want to go outside, not when white flakes are starting to dust the already cold air. 

Besides, he’s determined to make your stay on this planet as short as possible anyway. 

Luckily, the target’s in the first cantina Din steps into and doesn’t put up a fight. Well, he tries, but the dumb sucker thinks he can just run, and he doesn’t get more than a few meters out the door before Din shoots him through the chest. 

Usually, Din would scoff at a quarry that slow, but this time, as he ties up the body, he’s just grateful that the target’s lack of mental and physical prowess means he can get you all off this planet that much sooner.

In fact, it’s only been a few hours since he first left, and as he makes his way back to the Crest, Din assumes he’ll find you right where he left you. You probably haven’t even put the kid down for a nap yet, and he’s almost proud of himself for making the turnaround so fast. He may have brought you to this awful place, but at least he’s making sure you barely have to spend any time on it. 

He almost doesn’t feel bad anymore, almost tells himself it’s okay that he left you and the child stranded on the ship again, but then he approaches the Crest and realizes things aren’t exactly as he left them.

The first thing he notices is that the hull door is open. He’s almost certain he remembered to close it, even in his rush to leave, but even if he didn’t, he’s sure you would’ve shut it for him. 

But then again, you’d been in the cockpit when he left, so maybe you had just stayed there and didn’t realize the door was still open. That would make sense.

When he gets a little closer though, he realizes he can’t hear the hum of the engine and that the headlights have been turned off. That he can’t explain. He told you to keep the ship running, and you’ve always followed his instructions. If nothing else, surely you’d want to keep the heater going in this weather. He can’t think of any reason why the Crest shouldn’t be running right now, unless something happened to you and-

No. No, that’s not possible. 

He always engages ground security before he leaves. There’s no way anything could’ve gotten onto the ship. But he was in a rush this time, and he’s not even 100 percent positive he closed the hull door, and kriff, did he really mess up that badly?

Not only did he make you wait on this stupid ice planet, but he also left you and the kid vulnerable to whatever dangers lurk in its snow covered hills because he forgot to secure the ship?

Maker, now he really feels bad for bringing you here.

Before he knows it, Din is sprinting towards the Crest, leaving the quarry’s body behind so he can move faster through the snow. He starts heading up the ramp, ready to scope out the ship, but then he hears faint laughter coming from the other side of the hull. He freezes at the noise, his body tensing as the edges of his vision go red. 

Apparently ice planets make for stupid criminals, Din thinks, because between the quarry he just picked up and whoever the hell is gloating right outside the scene of their crime right now, he’s sure he’s never encountered so many witless assholes in one place. He’s almost glad for it though. At least he’ll be able to put a bolt through the little frozen brain of whoever had the gall to raid his ship and mess with his crew.

He draws his blaster and paces towards the back of the ship, making sure his steps are silent now that the laughter has stopped. He takes a breath before darting out from behind the Crest, blaster raised, finger on the trigger, but he doesn’t find the thief that he’s looking to shoot there.

He just finds you lying on the frozen ground, making faces at the child as you support him on your stomach.

At first, Din is just relieved to see the two of you seemingly unharmed, but the comfort he feels quickly morphs into confusion. He wonders if something happened to the ship that forced the two of you outside, but then the child swats at your face and you giggle, the sound so pure and carefree that he knows nothing’s wrong.

No, you just decided to drag the kid out into the cold for fun.

He sighs and lowers his blaster as he watches the two of you, too caught up in whatever game you’re playing to notice his presence. Maker, maybe ice planets really do make people dumber, the snowflakes fogging up your head the way it does his visor, because he knows if you were in your right mind you wouldn’t have taken the kid out into the snow, and you definitely wouldn’t be lying with him in the ice, completely exposed to anyone passing by.

“I thought I told you to keep the ship running,” he barks.

You sit up abruptly at the sudden noise, pulling the child instinctively to your chest as you whip your head in his direction. Panic flashes across your eyes for a second, but when you realize it’s just him, it melts into a sigh as you offer him a small smile. 

“Oh. Mando. Hi, we were just...”

But then the kid sees that Din’s returned and coos loudly, trying to squirm out of your arms so you’ll let him down. You oblige, placing him gently on the soft ground, and he waddles over to Din with his tiny arms outstretched.

Din picks him up, and the child bubbles with excitement as he positions the little womp rat in the crook of his arm. Din studies him, searching for any signs of distress, but he finds none, just big eyes shining with nothing but glee. 

That’s strange. He was sure the kid would hate snow after what happened last time. 

He snaps out of his train of thought when you make your way towards him, brushing ice off your shoulders and back. 

“Sorry, he was getting a little antsy when it started snowing, so I thought he might’ve wanted to play outside for a little bit,” you explain. “I didn’t want to leave the engine running while we were out here, and I thought we’d have enough time to get everything going again before you got back.”

You’re right in front of him now, so close he can see the small crystals of ice that dot your hair. For a second, he forgets himself, consumed by how breathtaking you look against the icy landscape, and it’s only when the child shifts in his arms that Din catches himself, remembering that he’s supposed to be mad at you for not following his instructions.

“Wasn’t he scared of it?” he demands.

You shake your head, looking down at the child and running a thumb along his ear.

“He seemed a little nervous at first, but I got him to warm up to it pretty quickly. We were just about to head inside, but he wanted to stay out here a little longer, isn’t that right bubs?”

The child hums contentedly as if to agree with you, shifting his gaze between your face and the helmet, but Din keeps his eyes trained on you, trying to figure out how you could’ve gotten the kid to like the snow so easily. The encounter on Maldo Kreis had left him wary of any icy terrain, he can’t imagine what it must have done to the innocent child, but somehow here he is, looking as happy as he’s ever been playing with you in the frost. 

He must have been staring at you for too long because before he can put his finger on how you were able to change the kid’s mind, your face is twisting with worry and you’re starting to apologize again.

“I know we probably should’ve stayed on the ship, but I…” you hesitate before giving him a sheepish grin. “Playing in the snow was one of my favorite things when I was little, and I wanted him to know what it was like too.” 

Din should be mad at you. You didn’t do the one thing he asked, and you could’ve put yourself and the kid in danger by going outside on a cold foreign planet. He should reprimand you, make sure you know how stupid it was to do that, but then you look up at him, your eyes sparkling as they catch his through the visor, and it’s like someone’s lifted the beskar from his chest, cool air filling his lungs as he breathes fully for what feels like the first time.

He can’t remember the last time he saw you like this, so in awe of the world and eager to share it with the child, with him. Din thought he’d killed all the joy the two of you felt, but no, here it is again, radiating strong and warm from you and the little being babbling in his arms, and he feels whatever anger he had managed to harbor melt away.

How could he be upset when you two were so happy again? 

“It’s okay,” he sighs. “Just- I need you to be more careful when I’m not here. I don’t want you two getting into trouble when I can’t protect you.”

“I know, I know. I promise it won’t happen again.” 

It’s a simple affirmation, but your voice is steady, your gaze holding his with so much weight that he knows you mean every word you say. Din knows that he can trust you, so he just nods, deciding there’s not much use in wasting more breath on the topic.

He’s about to turn back to the ship, ready to get you all off this planet like he intended, but the child whines before he can move, pointing a tiny finger at the ground where you had been playing. Before he can ask what’s wrong, you take the child from his arms, speaking in that melodic tone you save for doting on your small companion.

“Oh, you wanna show your dad what we were doing, huh bubs?”

He coos in agreement, and you smile before nodding at Din to follow. You lead him to where you were lying and place the kid down next to two vaguely body shaped depressions in the snow. The kid toddles towards the smaller, shallower one and looks up at Din with bright eyes.

Din’s been with the kid long enough that he knows he’s supposed to act excited at this, but it’s a little hard to do when he has no idea what he’s looking at.

He turns his helmet to you in confusion, only to find you already staring at him with an amused expression. 

“Have you never made a snow angel, Mando?” you tease.

“A what?”

You grin at his response, and Din feels his face heat up. He can’t tell if it’s from being embarrassed at not knowing or if it’s just from seeing you smile at him.

“A snow angel. You lie down and move your arms and legs up and down, and then the mark you leave behind kind of looks like an angel.”

The kid makes his way back towards Din while he studies the tracks in the snow. He can kind of see an angel in the design he’s guessing you made, but the child’s-

“Well, it’s supposed to look like an angel,” you add. “But the kid’s so small I guess it's hard to tell. Maybe I should have taught him how to make snowballs instead.”

“No, you made the right choice,” Din interjects. “He doesn’t need anything else to be throwing around with his mind tricks.”

You laugh, nodding in agreement, and he feels his chest expand again at the levity of your voice. He wants to make you laugh again, be the reason you’re so openly joyful, but as he’s racking his brain for something to say, he feels a light tug on his cape.

“What is it, buddy?” Din asks as he kneels next to the child. He doesn’t respond, just starts waddling back towards the patterns in the snow while holding onto the cape, tugging harder once its pulled taut and he can’t move any further. 

“I think he wants you to make one too,” you note.

Din sighs as he stands, gently removing his cape from the child’s small hand. As much as he enjoys seeing the kid happy, he thinks it’d be a little ridiculous for him to take part in the childish activity, and he’s not too fond of the idea of lying on the cold, wet ground.

“I’m afraid I don’t know how to,” he reasons.

It’s a lame excuse, he knows, but it’s technically true, and he thinks it might be enough to get him out of this little game.

But when you roll your eyes at him, he knows that’s just wishful thinking.

Well, it was worth a shot.

“He did it, I’m sure you can figure it out too,” you accuse, gesturing at the kid who’s plopped himself on the ground. “Come on, bubs, why don’t you show your daddy how it’s done?”

The child doesn’t move though, just tilts his head at you and lets out a confused noise. You shake your head as you make your way to him, but instead of picking him up like Din expects, you just pat his head, striding past the “angels” you made earlier.

“Fine, you lazy little bean,” you say. “I guess I’ll just show him then.”

You sit in a fresh patch of snow and beckon at Din to join you. He’s about to refuse, tell you that it’s time to get back on the ship and leave, but then your bright eyes catch his again.

Maybe it’s worth giving in if it’ll keep that twinkle in your eyes.

“It’s just a little snow, Mando, it’s not gonna kill you.”

Din sighs, pulling his pulse rifle off his back and setting it down before grabbing the kid. He places the child between the two of you as he sits down, following your lead as you lay back in the soft ice and begin to move your limbs. 

It’s about as enjoyable as he expects it to be, which is to say not at all. The beskar makes him sink deep into the frozen layer, and he can feel the cold moisture seeping through the gaps in his armor. He’s about to ask how you could genuinely find this fun, but the sound of your laughter mixing with the child’s stops him.

He turns his head to watch you, taking in the way your eyes squeeze shut as your arms draw patterns in the snow, the way the light reflects off the white ground, making it glow around you.

The way it kind of makes you look like an angel.

Suddenly, Din feels warm despite being covered in ice, and he understands how you got the kid to like the snow so quickly. 

He thinks he might be starting to like it a little too.

[kinktae]

bitchin’ || pt. 7 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 3.4k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: sorry this chapter is so short :(

A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness!

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

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PART SEVEN

Your fingers wrapped around the metal handle, prying open the door of your dorm.

Unsurprisingly, you were met with a mop of dark hair and a full set of white teeth, Jungkook's smile wide and blinding. You had figured the incessant knocking was his doing.

"Yes?"

Your tone was dry, clueing Jungkook in that despite the 24 hours that had passed since the day of your event, you were still, in fact, pissed at him.

Moving a hand from behind his back, he presented you with a bouquet of yellow flowers, jutting them your way. Your eyes fell onto the flowers with indifference, clearly not impressed.

"These are for you." He enthused.

"Is this your way of apologizing?"

Jungkook sighed, flowers falling to his side, “Change into something nice, we’re going out.”

You quirked a brow at him.

“Uh, or don’t! What you’re wearing right now is cool too! Totally up to you.” He backtracked quickly.

You were in polka-dotted pajama pants, a plain white t-shirt on your upper body– his shirt actually. You had stolen it from him some time ago, he was just good-natured enough to pretend like he hadn't noticed.

Rolling your eyes, you snatched the bouquet out of his eyes, the faintest hint of a grin on your lips.

"Fine." You agreed, hand coming out to press back against his chest as he tried to walk into your dorm. "But you're waiting here."

Jungkook pouted as the door shut shortly after, feeling very much like a puppy who had been put in time out.

And just like a puppy, any grudge he felt towards his owner was forgotten the moment you came back out, his cheeks warm as you intertwined your hand with his, unable to hold a grudge against him either.

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"Is the blindfold really necessary?" Your voice wavered nervously, a scarf wrapped tightly around your head to block your vision. You had both of your hands gripped around Jungkook's arm as he attempted to guide you up a set of stairs.

"Yes, it'll ruin the surprise if you see where we're going."

"My ass is going to be ruined if I fall and bust it."

"And what a nice ass it is." Jungkook tutted sadly, causing you to snort.

"Make sure you're paying attention to where we're going." You scolded, slapping his bicep.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, "Relax, nerd, we're here."

Your steps were brought to a halt, the sound of a heavy door opening ringing out. You cocked your head as a breeze washed over you, the kind that didn’t feel like it came from air conditioning.

"Grant me sight, oh powerful one." You joked as Jungkook began to untie your blindfold.

You squinted harshly as light flooded your eyes, blinking away spots the blurriness as you took in your surroundings.

"Where are we?" You marveled.

"The multimedia building rooftop." He informed you as you stepped out of the doorway, admiring the garden that was spread across the entire space. A makeshift greenhouse, you deduced. "It's where the Botany Club and Gardening Club meet and work."

You were absolutely enthralled, you hadn't the slightest clue that a place like this was sitting hidden on your campus. And as beautiful as it was up here, it was the woven picnic basket sitting by a bush of familiar-looking yellow flowers that caught your attention. Immediately, you recognized them as being the flowers Jungkook had gifted you with back at your dorm. You grinned.

Accompanying the basket was a pile of colorful blankets laid out of the concrete floor, along with pillows and another bouquet of yellow flowers, this time set up nicely in a glass vase.

"You know I don't cook, but, uh, I do know how to make a mean PB&J sandwich so..." Jungkook laughed nervously, gesturing towards the picnic he had set up.

A strange feeling fluttered in your stomach, and you brought up a hand to press up against it reflexively. He had arranged all of this... for you?

"Oh, wow." Was your response, the butterflies in your stomach hard to ignore.

Your reaction was hard to decipher and it made Jungkook incredibly anxious. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, "Well, let's go, nerd."

You followed Jungkook over to the picnic scene, sliding off your shoes before stepping onto the blanketed spot, flopping down with an excited giggle. You had been toying with the tassels of one of the pillows near you when Jungkook pulled out a small portable radio for the basket, a word of approval leaving your lips. He really did think of everything, didn't he?

"How did you even find this place?" You marvel as he fiddled with the radio dial, flipping through stations until he found one he was content with.

"I went to a photography club meeting and they mentioned this place being a good spot for sunset shots."

You had taken note a little wooden popsicle stick poking up from the soil of the yellow flowers. Acacias, they were marked. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you considering his words.

"You went to a photography club meeting? Wait, are you–"

"I'm considering switching majors, yeah." He cut you off, leaning back away from the radio and taking a seat beside you.

"Not even!" You gaped.

"It's not that big of a deal." He shrugged nonchalantly. He was only changing his entire career path because you had told him you believed in him. No biggie, right?

"It's huge news, I mean, you're taking the initiative and pursuing your passion. I'm amped for you." You grinned to which Jungkook couldn't help but return, reaching into the picnic basket to pull out your sandwiches.

The two of you sat beside each other comfortably, washing your food down with sips from your respective juice boxes, which Jungkook had so endearingly provided. You hummed along to the radio as the sun slowly started its descent down the sky.

Suddenly, Jungkook cleared his throat, a clear sign that he was asking for your attention.

"So, you probably know why I brought you here."

You nodded.

"You're proposing, right?"

"Yeah, I– oh, shut up." He laughed, the serious mood shattering as you joined him.

“No, I just really wanted to apologize for the way I behaved at your event. I acted on impulse and wasn't thinking past my... raging man ego or whatever." Jungkook sighed, eyes meeting yours earnestly. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, eager to hear him out.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I would never want to do anything to hurt my best friend and I know how hard you worked on this event and— why are you looking at me like that?” He huffed, cutting himself off mid-apology.

“You just called me your best friend.” You beamed, cheeks round.

Jungkook felt himself redden, turning away from your admittedly adorable expression.

“Yeah. So?”

“That’s so cute.” You fawned. “And you did all this for me. You can be really sweet when you want to be, you know.”

Jungkook wasn’t used to this kind of doting affection being directed at him, much less coming from you of all people. He swatted away your hand that had reached out to pinch his cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, just zip it before I demote you back down to classroom acquaintance.”

You hummed contentedly, “I accept your apology. And for what it's worth, I also consider you to be one of my best friends.”

"Ouch, just one of them? That's cold." Jungkook pouted, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Sorry, Yara's got spot number one on lock." You shrugged, bringing your juice box to your mouth as you took a sip. "Chicks before dicks."

"Fine, but tell me I'm at least best friend number two."

"Hmm..." You tapped at your chin, pretending to think about your response.

"What the hell? Who could possibly be before me? Taehyung?...Kiri?" Jungkook teased.

At the sound of Kiri's name, you physically tensed, something Jungkook didn't fail to notice.

"...Yep, definitely Kiri." You played along half-heartedly.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" You straightened up suddenly, turning towards the boy. "You told me Kiri left you for Eunwoo, right?"

"Yeah... Why?"

"Oh. Well, I dunno, I heard from someone that you and Kiri were actually broken up at the time." You fiddled with your fingers anxiously, choosing to omit the fact that his ex-girlfriend had been your source of information.

The long-haired boy stared at you for a moment, expression unreadable as he took in your uneasy state.

"Well. Yeah. We weren't together." He answered finally, causing your stomach to drop.

Wait... Kiri had told the truth?

"But you said she left you for him? You lied to me." You breathed in disbelief.

"Hold on, I didn't lie." He pressed, brows furrowing at your words. "Yes, we weren't together, but we weren't broken up either?"

You flashed him a confused look, urging him to explain further.

He let out a sigh, stretching out his legs in front of him, "We had been arguing a lot, like more than usual, so we both agreed to take a break from each other– nothing permanent, just some time apart where we didn't see each other every day like we had been. The morning before I met you, however, I was coming down one of the halls at the Beta Tau Sigma house when I caught her sneaking out of Eunwoo's room. She broke up with me before I even got to say a single word. So yeah. She left me for Eunwoo."

You felt your shoulders fall, body relaxing at this new information.

"Oh."

"I was going to take her out for dinner that same day too. Clearly, we were on different pages on what this break was supposed to be for. Any other questions?" Jungkook quirked an eyebrow up at you pointedly, and suddenly you were filled with guilt.

Was this whole thing really just one giant miscommunication between the two? Kiri under the impression that they were broken up while Jungkook wasn’t? Jeez, you really jumped the gun there, didn't you?

"Ah, shit... Well, now I feel like a total wastoid for accusing you of lying." You expressed your regret, poking a finger into his thigh sheepishly.

Jungkook gave you a once over before chuckling, a hand reaching out to take your face between his fingers as he squeezed your cheeks.

"Say you're sorry."

"'M s’rry!" Your muffled words came through squished lips causing him to giggle.

"Say 'Gosh, Jungkook! You're such an honest and wonderful person. I'm a fool for ever doubting you.’'" He smirked. You rolled your eyes, face having grown sore.

"Asshole, let m’go! M'cheeks hurt!"

Thankfully, he granted your request, freeing your cheeks from their state of enslavement so that you could rub at them woefully.

"You're a child." You scowled.

"You sound like Kiri." Jungkook reminisced, recalling how his ex-girlfriend often said those very words.

"Yeah, well, soon enough it'll be her saying that instead of me." You joked.

The joke fell flat, failing to earn even a smile from him.

"Nah," he replied coldly, "like you said, if she wanted me back, she'd already have come back."

You cursed internally. You had completely forgotten you had spat that out while scolding Jungkook for nearly going apeshit on Eunwoo, and once again, you were left feeling shitty.

"Hey, I said that out of frustration, I didn't really mean it. I'm sure she'll come crawling back soon." You attempted to comfort him, hoping to sound sincere.

"Even if that's true, I'm not entirely sure I want that anymore."

"What?" You blinked. Jungkook shrugged.

"What about us?" He met your eyes, causing your breath to hitch.

"What about us?"

Jungkook stared at you for a moment, noting the way the timber in your voice had become higher pitched as if panicked.

"Yara told me how you'd be really bummed if you lost me once Kiri and I got back together. But Y/N, Kiri is going to think you're my ex-girlfriend... there's just no way she'd be okay with me hanging out with you. I don't know if I want to get back together with her if it's going to hurt you..."

The chirps of nearby birds slowly fizzed into a dull hum, drowned out by the deafening pounding of your heart.

Your face felt hot. When you told Yara all that stuff about how fond you had grown of Jungkook, you had been notably drunk from Roommate Wine Night, uncharacteristically vulnerable and in your head. Even so, you didn't think that Yara was gonna go and tell him.

She was so dead.

But what the hell was he saying? He would give up on Kiri just so you didn't have to lose him? He'd give up what he wanted just for you?

"Idiot." You scoffed suddenly, taking him by surprise. "Who cares about me? Yes, I'll probably be really sad that we don't get to hang out anymore but, whatever, I'll get over it. I got my event. You're going to get your end of the deal too, I'll make sure of it."

Your determination was hard set in your eyes which held his pensive ones.

"Kiri will come back, okay? Like, c'mon! She knows she can't do better than you."

Jungkook shot you an insincere smile, "Ah, I'm not so sure she thinks that's true anymore."

"Stop. Listen to me, Jungkook, you're a fucking great guy, okay? You're charismatic and funny and care about your friends... sure, you almost ruined my event, but it was mostly to defend my best friend when Eunwoo got too pushy, right? You're a good guy, meathead. I know I joke about your ego, but I really believe you're capable of more than you think you are. Seriously, Kiri is so lucky to be the object of your affection."

Jungkook watched the way the sun's orange light kissed your face, a bittersweet feeling growing in his chest as he contemplated the object of his affection. Just a couple of months ago, he would have had no doubt about who held his heart, but as you held his stare, he found himself unsure and yet, entirely sure all the same.

“Jungkook? You okay?” You frowned, catching in the sadness in his eyes.

“Hm? Yeah, yeah. I just… realized something.”

“Oh? What's that?”

“...It doesn't matter.” He smiled, the gesture hardly reaching his eyes.

You looked at him for a moment, skepticism evident in those beautiful eyes of yours that reflected the sky's deepening orange and red colors. Jungkook felt like he was sinking into them. Burying himself further and further into a hole that he was unaware had even existed until now and he was in too deep to pull himself back up.

"Kiss me." He spoke softly, making your eyes grow wide. "Please."

There was a note of melancholy to his tone, unlike you had ever heard come from him before. You fought back to urge to dissect it further, choosing instead to oblige his request and press your mouth into his, the thought that he was holding you tighter than usual failing to cross your mind.

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“Hey, hey, hey, hey! What is going on here?”

Yara giggled at the television show, popping a chip into her mouth, the crunching sound pulling you from the thought that had been occupying your mind. Tugging at scrunchie you had on your wrist, you searched for the right way to go about sharing your feelings.

“Yara?”

“Yeah?” The girl in question responded, eyes still fixated on the ever so charming A.C. Slater.

“...Nevermind.” You retracted, shaking your head dismissively.

And just like that, the Saved By The Bell episode was entirely forgotten, Yara's hands taking purchase on your shoulders.

“Bitch, you already have my attention, don’t just blue balls me like that.” She whined, shaking you slightly. You turned away from her curious eyes.

“It’s just… ah, seriously, nevermind, I’m pretty sure I’m just up in my head.” You shrugged her off, leaning back into the couch.

Your best friend watched your suddenly indifferent presence with pursed lips, not buying it for a second.

“You’re gonna ask about Jungkook, right?”

You turned towards Yara, suspicious written all over your narrowed eyes, “How did you know that?”

“I’m a mind reader.” She rolled her eyes passively, turning back to the television. “So, what’s up?”

“I dunno, I just feel like things are so... different between us.”

At your revelation, Yara’s eyes flicked back over to you, “Bad different?”

“No. It’s actually kind of nice. I think.” You frowned, trying to make sense of your thoughts.

“So... good different.” Yara concluded.

“It’s just funny. When I look at the start this whole deal between Jungkook and me—”

“You mean back when you and Jungkook weren’t going at it like animals and having secret rooftop picnics?”

You held her stare for a moment, teeth sinking down into your bottom lip.

“Yeah. Things are so different. I remember a time where I couldn’t even stand being in the same room as him and now…”

"And now you're completely infatuated with him." She sympathized, shaking her head sadly.

“W-What? What the hell are you yapping about? I was gonna say that I actually think of him as a close friend.”

“Oh, Y/N.” Yara let out a breath, her hand placing itself on your head.

“Poor, poor stupid Y/N.” She patted it with a sad look. “How blind you are.”

You swatted your best friend’s hand away, “Get your grubby paws off of me, weirdo. I do not like Jungkook!”

There was an uncomfortable feeling in your throat as you said those words; you swallowed it down immediately.

“Seriously? Y/N, you’re whipped for that kid. Big time.”

“I thought I told you to lay off the crack.” You deadpanned.

“Funny.” Yara glared. “Seriously though, you guys are walking around in a fake relationship while having real feelings for each other and real sex. If anyone’s trippin', it’s you two.”

“Okay, just because people have sex doesn’t mean feelings are always involved.” You scoffed.

“Oh girl, you don’t have to tell that to me, my emotionally constipated ass knows that better than anyone.” Yara mused before shaking her head. “But it’s different with you guys. I see the way you light up whenever he’s near. It’s totally palpable the way you two yearn for each other.”

That wasn't true, wasn't it? Sure, you did notice yourself thinking about him whenever you weren't with him, but wasn't that just because he was a friend? Don't friends usually wonder what the other is doing whenever they're apart? Didn't friends spend hours thinking about the time they spent with each other after they parted?

Suddenly, you felt nauseous.

“Fuck.” You breathed out.

Yara pressed her lips together, taking in the way you suddenly looked like you were one second away from barfing into the bowl of popcorn you had on your lap. She had a reasonably strong guess as to what exactly was running through your mind at this very moment.

"Wanna hear something funny?" She said finally, offering you a change of subject should you take it.

"Yes, please." Was your weak reply.

“I’ve fucked Eunwoo. Eunwoo has fucked Kiri. Kiri has fucked Jungkook, and Jungkook has fucked you."

You blinked, "Yeah?"

"Hello!" Yara exclaimed, "Isn’t that wild? It’s like one big orgy!”

A sharp snort left your nose, sufficiently amused.

"Only one thing left to do for this love chain to come full circle." Yara's eyes suddenly grew mischievous, scooting in closer to you.

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"We gotta get it on, baby!" Yara waggled her eyebrows suggestively, sending you into a round of laughter. She grinned back at you. "Why are you laughing? You don't think I could rock your world?"

"I think you're insane and need to get laid by someone who isn't me." You reasoned, nudging your shoulder into hers.

"Ugh, you're probably right." She sighed in defeat. You knew Yara well enough that this was her attempt to distract you and make you feel better, and honestly, it had worked. For the most part.

You let out a sigh of your own, leaning over to rest the side of your head against hers.

"Do you really think I like Jungkook?" You asked quietly.

Yara let out a contemplative hum as if considering her reply before speaking.

"Honestly, what I think doesn't really matter. What matters is how you feel, you know?"

"Yeah," you exhaled, biting the inside of your cheek as a sinking feeling of understanding finally washed over you, "I think I do."

[petri808]

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Inukag AU

As Inuyasha and Kagome cut through a park on their way back to the Higurashi home, they chatted casually, just winding down after a hearty lunch at a nearby cafe. The couple stayed to the pathways traversing the manicured park. It would be shorter to cut through the grass, but why the rush? It was a beautiful location, with a several different kinds of trees dotting the landscape to provide shade and lots of open space for all kinds of activities. Some picnicked, flew kites or played frisbee, they’d even passed a group doing Tai Chi. There were young families to older citizens enjoying the scenery. The couples conjoined hands and twined fingers swayed lazily back and forth between them. Despite the summer heat starting to rise in Tokyo, with blue skies and a gentle breeze brought in from the Pacific Ocean, it was a perfect day for a stroll.

While this journey towards normalcy hasn’t always been an easy one, the past couple of months have been the happiest so far. Ever since leaving the hospital Kagome’s felt better and better. There were even moments she’d made peace with the idea she may not regain her memories. Was it saddening yes, because she wouldn’t remember her job, friends, and other precious moments. But at the same time, she could always make new ones. Sango’s twins were still young. She could relearn her job, and best of all she had Inuyasha who’d she’d become attached to. Their steadily growing relationship was a budding romance regardless of their past history. Think about? Kagome had a chance to re-experience everything in a new way, through a new lens. Well… that’s what she told herself to justify the idea, and so far, it was working.

But there were strange moments starting to occur. Sometimes they were dreams of scenes Kagome didn’t recognize. That in of itself weren’t unusual because how often do dreams ever make complete sense? No, it was in the emotions that came with them. On several occasions Kagome would wake up with the distinct feeling these were not merely dreams but memories trying to break through. At other times, she couldn’t remember the dream, only the emotions she’d felt during them. Sometimes they were so intense, she’d wake up in tears or completely happy for no other reason. According to her neurologist, this was normal during the healing process, but unfortunately there was no true way to tell the difference between reality and fantasy.

“Did I tell you I reached out to Ms. Tanaka the other day?” Kagome asked Inuyasha.

“Mmm, I don’t think so.”

“I called the office and spoke to her briefly about maybe getting lunch one day so she could tell me how things have been there. I may not know exactly what she’s talking about, but maybe it’ll jog my memories.”

Inuyasha lifted their conjoined hands and kissed the back of hers. “I think that’s a really good idea. You guys will have fun talking.”

“I think so too, she seemed very nic—…” Kagome’s voice trailed away as stopped dead in her tracks and her eyes shifted towards one of the parks trees. “Um, c-could we check out that tree?”

“Sure, whatever you want.” Inuyasha smiled knowingly.

It was like her feet gained a mind of their own as they carried her towards a large Sakura tree in the middle of a field. Just from looking at, there wasn’t anything special about the tree. Spring had long since passed and the blooms were no more. But Kagome felt a pull towards this one in particular as if she remembered something about it. What that was she had no idea. She let go of Inuyasha’s hand and reached out, touching the bark of the tree, and staring up at its massive girth. It looked old. Maybe there long before the park existed… maybe older than even the Edo period, who knew? It was just another green leafed tree, yet why was it stirring up a rush of emotions? Happy ones with butterflies dancing in her soul.

Slowly, she moved around the base of the tree like a surveyor mapping it out or searching for secrets only it could provide. And that’s when she saw it. Kagome’s breathing hitched as her eyes fell upon a carving in the wood, approximately five feet above the ground. There, a bit worn nonetheless was a heart encircling two names. “Kagome…” She read aloud, “& Inuyasha—

Oh, my Kami!” She gasped, both hands flying up to cover her mouth in shock. “H-How? When?”

At that moment, Inuyasha walked over, gazing at the words and running his hand over the carving while he spoke. “We carved this about two years ago.” He smiled, eyes crinkling, and growing moist as if reminiscing. “It was a late Saturday afternoon and after eating an early dinner at Genki Sukiyaki, we cut through this park to get to your house. But it started to rain, not very heavy, so we took shelter under this tree.” Inuyasha chuckled lightly. “I remember you being upset about your hair getting wet.” He finally looked to Kagome, placing a hand on her cheek. “You looked so beautiful and even though the weather was miserable, there was just something magical about it all. That’s when you asked me to carve this into the tree.”

“But how did I know to look for it?” Kagome was so confused. “I don’t remember any of that.”

“I have no idea how. But part of you must. Maybe, it’s a sign your memories are fighting to come through.”

The tears gathering in Kagome’s eyes, trickle down her cheeks as a blend of happiness and sadness. She wanted to be happy for such a beautiful memory but devastated that she couldn’t remember it. She wanted to be excited that maybe, just maybe it could be true that her memories were returning, yet she didn’t want to take the chance of a let-down. Inuyasha pulled her into a tight hug as she let go of the angsty emotions. “It’s not fair that I can’t remember! I want to remember!”

“Shhh,” Inuyasha who’s own tears begun to spill, did his best to soothe her with softened tones. “I want that too. It’s gonna get better baby. I think this really is your memories returning, we just have to believe.”

“It’s hard to do that sometimes…”

Inuyasha lifted her chin and swept his thumbs over her cheeks to dry them. “And if you don’t, we’re creating a whole new memory of this tree right now, an even more special one.”

Kagome sniffled. “You think so?”

He nodded his head and placed a gentle kiss on her whetted lips. “What do you think?” Inuyasha questioned with a soft smile. “How can we add to this memory?”

Kagome paused for a moment in thought. “We could add something beneath our names… like… mmm, forever in time?”

“Is that what you want?” She nodded yes. “Okay,” Inuyasha obliged.

He kissed her again then used his claw to slowly, meticulously carve the new words into the bark. It took a few minutes because he wanted to make sure it was easy to read and would last a long time. “I think this is definitely will better than the original memory.”

“Mmhmm, it’s a good one,” Kagome agreed. She felt a lot better now. “Thank you, Inuyasha for being so patient with me. It must be so frustrating.”

Inuyasha shook his head. “Not anymore. I’m not glad about the accident, but I’m cherishing all this time I’m spending with you. Kagome, I truly mean it when I say, this moment right here,” he took her hand. “It’s now one of the happiest moments you’ve ever given me. No matter what,” he smiled, “I’ll always love you, forever in time.”

She giggled. “Forever… I like the sound of that…”

After the incident at the park, Kagome brought it up with the neuropsychologist assigned to her case. The woman patiently sat in her chair as Kagome told her every little detail. What she felt, the emotions, her thoughts, and reactions. She also brought up the dreams she’d been having as well as small incidents that caused her to feel like it might be memories trying to come through.

“Like, just the other day,” Kagome explained. “Sango accompanied me to the hospital for my last physical check-up, but as we passed by the nursery, we decided to stop to look at the cute babies. Then out of nowhere I started to feel emotional, nothing bad, just happy as she talked about the birth of her twins. I mean, yeah it makes sense to feel happy at the time because we were having a good time, but it just felt different. I almost felt like crying. Why is that??”

The woman finished jotting down her notes before speaking. “It’s been about 5 months, correct, since you lost your memories?” Kagome nodded yes. “And according to your latest evaluations, your brain has healed quite nicely. It’s not uncommon at this point for triggers to manifest themselves.”

“I don’t understand…”

“The way long term memory retention works, our brains must process information and create new neurocircuitry, storage if you will once the information has been deemed necessary to keep in the long term. If not, our short term memories are discarded quickly. Of course, this is just a basic explanation and there’s more to it, but what studies have found is memories attached to an emotional event have a higher likelihood of being retained and will evoke a stronger response from us. Think of it like, these emotional memories are much more deeply attached to our psyches.”

“Oh— I think I understand.”

“Mmm,” the doctor hummed. “The park incident was attached to a very emotional moment in your life. So even though you couldn’t remember the event itself, the part of you that remembered the emotions surrounding it did and pushed you towards the tree. Also, the hospital, you mentioned being with your friend Sango and looking at babies. This is just a guess, but perhaps you were feeling the emotions you felt from the time she gave birth.”

As the doctors words were processed, moisture began to pool in Kagome’s eyes. Could it really be true?! Should she really allow herself to hope?! When Kagome finally responded, her voice cracked as it held back the tears. “D-Does this mean… I’m starting to get my memories back?”

“I would say, yes. Again, I cannot say one hundred percent certain, but what you are experiencing is a common one. Those that suffered from acute memory loss, don’t just wake up one day and suddenly they’ve all returned. It’s a gradual process, but once it begins it typically continues at a steady pace.”

“I-I don’t know what to say!” A few happy tears joined the smile on Kagome’s face.

“I suggest that you start writing down the times you feel something or think you’re remembering something and check them with your family and friends. If they confirm it, talk about it. That could help as well to bring more information and memories to the forefront— give your brain a little help to jog itself.”

“Thank you so much, doctor! I’ll definitely do that!”

The woman smiled, reaching over to pat Kagome’s hand before giving it a small squeeze. “You’re very welcome. I wish you all the luck in the world!”

[couchpotatoaniki]

One Year ❣︎ Three: The Execution

Chapter Summary: Trying to cool off, you decided to spend the day by yourself. This couldn’t have gone any better for San’s plan.

Pairing: Mafia!San x Fem!Reader Genre: Mafia AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, lotta crack and stupid shit ngl Chapter warnings: swearing, stalking, kidnapping Word count: 2.5k+ A 365 Days parody

Previous: Chapter Two For the rest of the series, click here

Speech in bold means they’re talking in Korean

Speech in italics is whatever the reader wants their native langue to be that’s not Korean or English

Speech without either means they’re talking in English

Buzzing came from your pocket, initially thinking your phone got a notification until it continuously vibrated. Yunho was calling you.

“Yo, where are you? Mingi told us what happened between you and Dom--and before you say anything, he’ll be having hell to pay, regardless of whether you approve or not.”

Chuckling, you sighed as you looked at your surroundings. “Fine by me. Do what you like to him.” Slowing down in front of a cute-looking coffee shop, you answered his first question...partially. “Just taking a stroll in the town.”

“Wanna be left alone?” You hummed as you entered the establishment, being hit with wafts of bakes goods. “Very well then. But we’re gonna hunt you down if you’re not back by midnight.”

“M’kay, Pops,” mumbling absent-mindedly while overlooking the menu on the screens above the counter.

You couldn’t see the gentle bitter smile on his face, knowing very well that you weren’t as stone-cold as the façade you masked yourself in. Had an idea that you just needed space. “Alright then. Look after yourself.”

“You too.”

Beeping over the line indicated to you that he had hung up. Shoving your phone back into your coat pocket, you let your feet carry you to the till, where a young teenager dressed in a pale blue polo shirt and evergreen apron on top greeted you with a nervous smile.

Must have been new, or had some sort of social anxiety, from the way they avoided your eyes and fidgeted with their hands. “U-Um, hello. Welcome... What would you like?” the taller kid practically whispered, but you caught on to their words.

Sending a soft, warming smile, you answered, “can I have a buttered croissant with a mango and passionfruit iced tea, please? Actually, would you mind adding a chocolate muffin to that too?”

Nodding, they tapped the till, pressing various buttons before saying, “that’ll be 6,500 won, please.”

Pulled out your wallet and paid the employee. As you sat down, waiting on your order, you began to reminisce from when you used to be that age too--then again, it was not hard at all since it wasn’t too long ago.

Seven years ago, you were only 16, enjoying life just before things took a turn you never expected and you were never the same air-headed, happy-go-lucky kid you once were.

All you needed at the time was someone who was kind, who gave you a breath from the onslaught you faced all around you. Mingi was probably the only reason you’re still alive.

Thinking about the old days did more damage to you than you’d like to believe, but almost seemed impossible with the Dominic situation.

Being betrayed again hurt like hell, and although he wasn’t as bad as what you had experienced, he still broke your trust. Trust you tried to rebuild after all you went through the last time.

Thoughts you spent so long trying to get rid of grew back like weeds of the concrete walls you put up five years ago.

And despite what you tried to convince yourself and Mingi, you actually really liked the guy.

“Here you go, miss,” the young employee mumbled as he placed a tray with your order on it. Almost everything was right, except that there was a vanilla and chocolate chip muffin instead of a complete chocolate one.

Oh well, a muffin’s a muffin.

“Thank you,” you grinned, handing the teenager a tip of 10,000 won.

Their eyes widened at your strange generosity before hesitantly taking the money you held out between your index and middle fingers.

Your lips wrapped around the straw as you took a sip of your ice-cold drink. Strong tones of mango, with a hint of passionfruit, slight sweetness from honey and faint tang of fresh lemon.

Iced tea was something you had grown to love over the past five years, first time being too bitter and flavourful for you. Then again, the events prior left a bad taste in your mouth. Seonghwa was the one who helped you, always getting you an iced tea every time he went to a nearby coffee shop.

Learned quite quickly that your tongue was sensitive to heat after being so concerned how you refused piping-hot meals he cooked for you often. Waited until it cooled a lot before digging in.

No doubt the four boys would do anything for you--Mingi the most out of the rest since you wouldn’t be where you are without him--but sometimes you needed to breathe by yourself. Enjoying the little things you like croissants and muffins rather than focussing on your soon-to-be ex boyfriend cheating on you for a reason that eludes you.

That’s how the rest of the day goes.

Aimlessly walking, window-shopping, sight-seeing. Nothing registered in your mind but it was better than something negative.

Your phone was on silent, growing cold in your pocket from the lack of heat being transferred from your hand. Even then, you doubt anyone (except Dominic) would be texting you since you told them you wanted peace.

Before you realised it, the sun crawled above your head and began to set in the horizon, a clash of beautiful blues, oranges, pinks, and purples hovering in the sky. Lampposts along the streets lit up and the sky grew dark, yet that didn’t stop the hustle and bustle.

Irritated by the noises of people, you turned to an alleyway which had significantly less lighting but also significantly less humans.

As you walked, you were deep in thought, not thinking much of your surroundings. Then the hairs on the back of your neck stood up and a chill ran down your spine.

Someone was following you.

You were about to turn around and defend yourself--and you had no worries that you would lose. But then bright LED headlights of a hidden black SUV had highlighted the hair of a rather short person who stood in front of it.

Shocking electric blue stands brushed against his porcelain-smooth skin from light wisps of wind passing by. The same colour hair you realised had been barely peeking in your peripheral since the airport.

Next to a man you had very briefly met on you birthday dinner while searching for the bathroom.

Exactly how long have they been following you?

Though you chided yourself for not noticing it sooner--despite all the excuses of being ‘on a holiday’--you found yourself pondering. You had never met those two funky-haired people before in your life, and you sure as hell made sure any dangerous people couldn’t find you (not without going through one of the other boys first) so who exactly were these people?

Perhaps you were like a bee, drunk on the honey in your tea, or maybe you wanted to get your mind off the situation, needing a thrill at the moment.

You felt the need to destroy something--or at least toy with it for a bit--and these cocky assholes seemed perfect.

Either way, you relaxed your muscles (only a little, as to not raise suspicion of the young man before you).

One foot stepped behind you as you kept your eyes trained on his coco ones, only to rip them away a moment when you turned to ‘run’. As expected, something else tried to stop you. Another black SUV with blinding lights swerved into the other end of the alleyway as you tried to leave.

You’d prided yourself on good acting, and it always seemed to pay off. Right now, to sell the part of a scared girl, you stumbled backwards--planning to fall of the cobblestone path, but only to be saved by something hard.

The mysterious man’s chest, his hands holding your arms as support.

“Sorry about this,” he whispered in your ear, covering your mouth with a chloroformed cloth. You didn’t really put up much of a fight (to your standards, anyway) and succumbed to the strong chemical.

At first you were floating in a sea of black, unable to connect with your senses. Slowly, after moments of nothingness, you could feel the world materialise around you.

Soft fabric was cushioned beneath you, cradling your body with warmth. Light began to seep through your closed eyelids as the gentle, sweet smell of sugared almonds filled your nose with every deep inhale. And finally, a headache that began to pound harder with every pulse.

Grunting, you pried your eyes open, immediately noticing what appeared to be a shower room in front of you. There were two shower heads on each side, with only pillars of soft light embedded into the tiled wall rather than a proper partition. To add to the lack of privacy, the only material separating the shower room and the eyes of the bed was simply a thin pane of sliding glass which hid absolutely nothing.

“What kinda perv decided to design this monstrosity?”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you looked down on the bed you were lying in, thankfully still in the same cotton dress, phone no longer in its pockets. The mattress was significantly softer than the one at the hotel--yet another indicator that your kidnappers were rich.

On the tables dotted around the space were lilac candles. Most likely the culprit of the amazing scent in the room.

Your eyes then caught the daylight peeking through the curtains, enlightening the room in a soft apricot glow. “Fuck,” you muttered, remembering Yunho’s words in the previous call she had, “they’re gonna kill me for staying out.”

Pushing yourself off the illegally comfortable bed, you inched towards the only door you saw. Fingers wrapped around the cold metal handle and pushed down, finding it much to your surprise that it was actually unlocked. Pulled it open without hesitation, though making sure you peered out to see if there was anyone.

There wasn’t.

“Great security, guys,” you sighed, actually feeling disappointed in the lack of effort you had to put in while walking openly around. After all, it was the reason you let yourself be taken.

Then again, this could all be a trap.

Now that was exciting.

You let yourself become familiar with the surroundings upon one glance, noticing the obvious luxurious colour scheme of gold and cream that had your eyes rolling at the basic rich vibes it gave you.

Then you found your breath catching in your throat as you continued to explore, eyes frozen on a portrait hung up on a wall.

Though the fact that it was a portrait of you had initially shocked you, it wasn’t the defining feature that had your heart palpitating at a dangerous speed. Your hair was short again, a pixie cut, while you were sat on a beach that looked a lot like the one you visited in Santorini.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

In fact, the painting was an exact replica of you from five years ago, down to the clothing of ripped jeans and loose top you wore. You, from one of your darkest and lowest moments.

“Are you lost, babygirl?”

The same voice rang in your ears, repeating the only sentence you heard spill from his lips. When you turned around to confirm who it was, it was indeed the same man you saw.

The damn muscular guy, with pitch-black hair and a lock of platinum blonde brushing just above an eye.

The blood was rushing too fast, fear in your eyes no longer an act. Just who the fuck was this guy?

You took one step back, knees buckling instantly but before your brain could process it, the man had wrapped his arms around you, catching your body before hit the ground.

San could smell the delicate citrusy aroma wafting from your skin and he tried so hard to not bury his head in the crook of your neck, to kiss the area and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

Taking advantage of your frozen state, he lifted you up and place you on a nearby armchair, one beside a fireplace since he felt you were too cold for comfort.

Only until he had a ice cube pressed against your lips, did you snap out of it. “You should have it. Maybe you had a bad reaction to the chloroform. Sorry about that, by the way.”

Head turning the other way, your guarded eyes stayed locked on him rather than your painting behind his form. “English.”

“Why? You spoke perfectly good Korean at the dinner two days ago,” he said, pressing the ice cube onto your mouth once more.

“Simply because I feel more comfortable with English,” you remarked, swatting away his hand. “And stop putting that on my mouth.”

Sighing, he dropped the cold, melting cube back in the glass of whiskey before putting a bit of distance between the two of you. He could feel himself getting angry, that you won’t trust him, that you won’t listen to him.

But could he blame you?

“I feel like explanations are in order,” you said, narrowing your eyes down on his figure, flickering firelight resting on him to make him seem even more good-looking, shadows casted to make each feature appear sharper. But that wasn’t what you were focused on.

You wanted to deduce this stranger by his body language.

Stood tall, maintaining good eye contact, showed that he was confident. Classic black suits--expensive by the look of the fabric--showed that he as rich. Tattoos littering the skin of his hand showed a bit of a bad-boy nature. And the aura he emitted was that of a leader.

Corner of your lips twitching, you realised who--or what--he might be. The boss of a fairly powerful crime syndicate.

San, on the other hand, couldn’t see what you were thinking as you looked at him. Did you think he was as hot as he did you? Fuck, he hoped so--clearly not understanding how a normal person would react in such a situation.

“Hello? Earth to whoever the hell you are?”

“If you want answers, you certainly won’t be getting them if you act like a brat.”

Scoffing, you tilted you head, eyes boring into him with a cold glaze coving them. Like a lifeless doll. “Then how do you suggest I act then? Hmm? After seeing that you’ve been stalking me for the last five years,” you nodded towards coloured canvas, growing more unsettled every time you looked at it.

“Fair point,” he said, taking a seat on the chair opposite you. “But you should know that I haven’t been doing that. Stalking you, I mean.”

“The fuck do you call that creepy-ass portrait, then?”

“I call it a precious memory.” San shifted his focus from your gaze to the flames lazily dancing on charred wooden embers. Tongue swiped over his lips before chuckling, almost bitterly. “Doubt you’ll believe me, but I’ll tell you anyway.”

Lips pursed, you sat quietly as you listened to his story.

☕︎ Tag list: @little-precious-baby​ , @sparklychangbin​​ ,

[a-detraque-barista]

Bridges

Disclaimer: I actually made this myself ~ (///0//0///)

Naga Izuku x Reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive, yandere-ish (not really, like just barely)

Word Count: 1600+

A/N: So...I didn’t work on this as much as I could have cause now I feel like it’s not done so there’s most likely going to be a part 2 or ill just add onto it XD but anywho! Here is the ninth day of Izumonth!!!

Announcement post/calendar here

@birds-have-teeth​ 

Enjoy~ 

You had just moved to your new home with a close friend of yours here in this small town. Your lovely neighbor had told you about the walking path here in the woods. However, she warned you not to cross the bridge that hung over the rapids down below with the doorway at the end. She claimed the doorway would take you to another realm, where humans weren’t welcome. Thinking it was only a legend, you brushed it off.

That was until it crossed your mind again once you stumbled upon the bridge she had mentioned. Nothing about this place felt safe. It sent shivers up your spine and bumps to rise across your arms. Cautiously looking down, there seemed to be a blanket of fog with a tint of green hovering over the water. 

What a strange colored fog.

Looking back up, you saw the smallest glimpse of something move on the other side. You squinted your eyes but nothing else moved so you shrugged and turned back the way you came so you could get home for dinner. Your mom was cooking at her house and you weren’t about to pass up a free meal. It was actually her idea for you to move to this town, to get away from the city for a while. She wanted you to get away from the polluted air and clutter of society. And you agreed.

So now here you were in a quaint little town full of nosy people. As long as your mother and your dear friend were there, living there shouldn’t be too bad. 

The next day was filled with the unpacking of boxes and redecoration of the rooms. It was a cute house that wasn’t very big but it was enough for you and your friend, Tsuyu, to live in. You loved Tsuyu with all your heart. She was kind and supportive even as people called you “quirkless” and “useless”. Tsuyu’s quirk was called Frog, which allowed her to do anything a frog could. She usually made funny faces to cheer you up when you were down. Because you, well, you didn’t have a quirk. That was the main reason why your mother wanted you to move here, so you wouldn’t get picked on constantly. Even in your current early adult years people still looked down on you for not having a quirk.

“Hey, you okay, Y/n?” you felt Tsuyu’s hand on your shoulder before you flinched away at her touch. Blinking a few times you realized it was only her and you relaxed.

“Yeah, just thinking,” you set down the last of the throw pillows for the furniture before opening another box that read living room.  

“How about you go take a walk on that one path again, ribbit,” she slowly took the picture frames from your hands before going to hang them up herself. “I’ll finish unpacking these.”

You smiled before slipping your shoes on to head back into the woods like the day before. 

This time you had brought your earbuds so it wouldn’t be so painfully quiet while you walked along the dirt path. Then without realizing, you had made your back to the beginning of the bridge that hung over the rapids down below. When you came to your senses you looked up to see someone, no something, staring right at you. Even with how far it was from you, its eyes still glowed brightly in the dim lighting of the shadows. Its scales glimmered in the little dots and streaks of light poking through the trees. The whole other side of the bridge was dark and dim compared to the side you were on. The only noticeable things about it were its eyes, scales, and long tail. You couldn’t see anything else from where you were. 

Was that what you had caught a glimpse of yesterday? It couldn’t be. Could it?

It slithered forward so a little more of it was in the light. He held out his hand and waved you, telling you to come closer. And oh were you tempted to. His face was an adorable round shape with freckles. His hair was curly and thick, it just made you want to run your fingers through the strands. Then your eyes trailed down to his chest covered in scars and muscle. Leading your eyes down to his torso where it almost faded into a jade-scaled snake tail.

He was beautiful in every sense of the word. He made the “come here” gesture with his hand again but this time he added an adorable, innocent smile. 

With a light pink hue on your cheeks now, you began to walk over the old and creaky bridge. Holding onto the rough rope that acted as a railing, you slowly made your way across the bridge. And he sat there waiting for you patiently and hopefully. 

Once you set one foot onto the solid ground, you were wrapped up in his coils. He held you tightly as he spoke, “I never thought I would be able to see you again, Y/n-chan.”

Confusion crossed your face but he only giggled at it before slithering deeper into the dark forest with you still tightly in his tails grasp. On the way to wherever you were headed, skeletons and clothes lied on the ground and in trees. The clothes made sense given that snakes ate their prey whole, but skeletons? Was there something else living here that didn’t eat bones? You shuddered at your own question which the snake holding you felt no doubt.

He slightly smirked at feeling your the chill run down your spine. But he quickly got rid of it as he focused on where he was going and the heat your body exerted into his. He could feel it seeping through his scaly armor. He couldn’t help but wind his tail tighter around you. 

Suddenly, he heard you whimper which caused you to look back at you. He realized what he did wrong quickly and slackened his hold on you, but only a little. It could have only been a few minutes before the snake man stopped outside of a large hole in the ground. He glanced back to you before continuing into the hole. He had to lower the top part of his body so his stomach was almost touching the ground and he tilted you back so you were looking directly up into the sky before darkness clouded your vision.

A dull glow of light came from the end of the makeshift tunnel and your eyes adjusted easily the further you went. He straightened both your body and his as he reached the large relatively empty area. The only things that were in the “room” were the torches spread out on the walls and furs that laid on top of a bed of roughly carved tree trunks.

Curling up on the furs his body still held you but not as tightly. His long-nailed hands came to hold your face and inspect you. Tilting your head side to side. Looking for what he knew to be there, he just didn’t know where. 

After practically pressing your face into his chest he found the mark he had left behind your ear. He smiled, “I knew it was you! I’ve been waiting for you ever since we were kids. I’m just sad it took this long for you to come back to me.”

Wait...w a i t

What?

Your confused expression made him giggle again before removing your earbuds gently, “How can you not remember me? It’s Izuku, remember?”

Izuku? You mean...he’s the-

He’s the boy you always went into the forest to play with as a child. He was the first person to not mind the fact that you were quirkless. You couldn’t believe he had stayed here all this time. Back then he slept in a large old tree and he would always carry you up to where the two of you talked and messed around. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you!” you almost shrieked as your wrapped your now free arms around his neck to hold him close. 

His face turned red as he acted like it was no big deal. Just as he was the first person to treat you with kindness, you were the first to not be terrified of what he was. Izuku has been hunted and sought out for being a danger to humans. He was only a danger when they attacked him. Too many times he’s been ambushed and injured by humans who refuse to believe he wouldn’t harm them without good reason.

All he could do was use tail and long fangs that utilize his deadly venom because he too was quirkless. It was hard to fight against these people that had quirks like ice and fire or that has a shadow coming from their body.

Izuku wrapped his arms around your torso and buried his head into your shoulder. He missed you like no other. His life was lonely without you brightening his days. But now you were back, and you were going to stay for good.

He sniffed a bit causing him to lick his lips and get a whiff of your scent. He hadn’t been able to take the time to smell it. His tongue poked out again to smell it again. His eyes almost rolled into the back of his head and he held you tighter. Izuku had to use all of his strength to not shudder from your delectable scent. Just to make sure he wasn’t mistaken he turned his head to your neck and stuck his tongue out again to smell from your scent gland. He was so close to biting your neck right then and there.

You were fertile. There was no doubt in his mind. It was time for you to bear children and he wanted nothing more than to fill you with his eggs and cum alike. 

“Y/n-chan...have you ever...done it before?”

[angst-fairygodmother]

37 and 66 from I love you things with Ollie and Jess?

A/N: Hi Nonny! Thank you so much for this prompt. I’m so sorry it took me a while to write, but I hope it was worth the wait. I went back and forth while writing this between making it a reader-insert and using Jess as an actual OC and finally settled on the latter, because it just felt right. (Which is probably how I will continue to write this pair going forward also.) Word Count: 3493 Rating: G - mostly fluff - heights (and fear of influencing how it’s written), a little swearing, referenced/implied panic attack

Jess closed the shop at 6pm on the dot, giving herself an hour to get ready for...whatever Ollie had planned. There weren’t a lot of places to go out to dinner in the area, and she desperately hoped he wouldn’t start out by inviting her home to meet the infamous Charlie Sway. She chewed nervously on her nail, staring at her closet. She knew she needed something that would work for anything, but her mind continued to run in circles trying to decide exactly what that meant. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d given this much thought to what she looked like on someone else’s account. It felt strange to say the least. But, she mused, not a bad kind of strange. Eventually, she settled on a cute cream-colored sweater and jeans, hoping that the evening temperature dropped enough to make them reasonable.

There was a soft knock on the door and she frantically cast one last look over herself in the mirror, smoothing down her shirt and hair, stomach twisting nervously. 

She threw open the door perhaps a bit overenthusiastically, a warm expression on her face. 

“Hi,” she greeted him, the single syllable all she could get out as she met those soft blue eyes. 

Ollie grinned when he saw her, the excited, adoring expression making her heart flutter. It was hard for Jess not to scoff at the cliché, when she was behaving like the protagonists of the romances she sold by the dozen. But at least he was looking at her the same way, and seemed at least momentarily speechless. 

“Uh, do you want to come in?” she offered meekly after a moment, gesturing over her shoulder. “Or I can come out, and we can...I mean...um...”

The two of them stood there, staring at each other dumbly for a moment, on either side of the doorway. 

“So...where are we going?” she asked after a long pause ripe with awkward tension. She wanted to kick herself. Ollie had been so easy to talk to from the moment he walked into her store, but now, suddenly they were going on a proper date and everything felt different?

“I have a picnic bag in the back of my car, and I thought we could drive somewhere, and then maybe hike a bit?”

“A hike?” she asked nervously. “Like, up into the mountains?”

“Yeah. There’s a point up there that has great views of the entire town and the lake. Nik heard about it from one of the girls at the bar we were flirting with…I mean he was flirting with mostly. It wasn’t...I mean I didn’t...and this was before I met you…”

“Ollie,” she laughed lightly, tilting her head to one side to look at him. “I’m not the blushing, swooning virginal maiden, and I don’t expect you to be either.” 

He coughed, face turning crimson and she couldn’t help smiling fondly. Finally, things were feeling a little more normal, this was still the same Ollie she had come to adore. 

“You’re also only here for the summer, or however long it takes you to find your Dad’s record. So I hadn’t set my hopes on serious, or exclusive. I just think you’re cute, and fun to be around, so why not enjoy something and see what happens with it?”

“Oh.” His face twisted as he considered her words.

“However, I don’t think a hike is a good idea. It’s going to be dark soon.”

“There’s still almost two hours before sunset, and I brought flashlights so we can get back down the mountain.”

Of course, he had planned ahead. It would be stupid to plan a hiking date and not account for that, and he was far from stupid. And they were both dressed fine for the occasion. Her mind quested desperately for some other reason that they shouldn’t go and came up blank. So instead she held up a finger for him to wait, and went back to collect her camera. If she were going to do this, she might as well get some good photographs out of it, she rationed. Maybe even one she could sell prints of, if she was incredibly lucky. (She already felt insanely so, when such a wonderful boy wanted to go out with her, so why not see how far that streak ran?)

~

The first part of the hike went surprisingly smoothly, and it didn’t take long before Jess and Ollie were joking and laughing, scrabbling over rocks like young goats, playing eye-spy with the woods, any weirdness melting away in the evening sun. She barely noticed the way their path climbed, and felt completely relaxed.

Gradually, without her noticing, the trail narrowed and became steeper, until it rounded a tight bend up ahead, nothing but air off to her left and solid rock to the right. She swallowed nervously, trying to keep her eyes from the empty space. All of her joviality dropped away like the ground. 

“Jess?” Ollie asked, noticing her discomfort as she edged very slowly along. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. Yeah. Fine. I just...don’t like heights.” She answered, breath and words coming in short bursts. 

“Oh. Shit. Um, we can turn back if you want? I didn't realize you--”

“No. No, it's fine. We're here now. I'll make it through. You just might have to hold my hand for the way back down.”

She’d meant it as a joke, a light flirtation to distract her from the many, many feet she could fall with one misstep. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be doing any good, as her mind found a way to focus on both the space and how cheesy the sentence was.

“Do...you want me to now?” he countered, holding one slim hand out. 

She flashed him a small smile, taking it with her own and trying not to think too much about how nice, how right it felt. “You’ve been taking lessons with Nikolai haven’t you?”

“What?”

“That was smooth, Oliver,” she teased, enjoying the way he turned red all the way to the tips of his ears. 

~

Eventually, the young couple made it to the overlook, with much gentle guidance from Ollie to keep Jess’s nerves from overwhelming her, and she gasped. The lake stretched out below them, still and silver in the evening light, shining like a mirror. Tiny specks of color, moving too fast or too far for the eye to really track marked the boaters and jetskis, and kites flown from the small public beach. Most of the buildings disappeared into the verdant green surroundings, and the ones she could still spot looked like houses and shops and mansions for Polly Pockets, not people. The sun was just starting to dip behind the mountains on the far side of the lake, hazy outlines of shadow against the sherbert sky. 

“Oh, Ollie,” she breathed, stunned. “It’s beautiful.”

He mumbled something she didn’t catch and started unpacking the picnic he’d brought in his backpack. Not wanting to disturb him, and clearly left to her own devices for the moment, she took out her camera, adjusting the lens carefully, capturing as much of the view as she could. Then, on an impulse she turned around and snapped one of Ollie, silhouetted against the forest and the peeks of sunset between the trees, before he could notice. The sound of the shutter, or the finishing touches being put on dinner, made him look up.

“What are you doing, Jess?” he asked, confusion written across his features. 

“Taking pictures of beautiful things,” she answered with a shrug, bringing the camera to her eye again.

“No,” he held up his hand to block it, laughing. 

“I’m serious. This place, up here away from it all, suits you.”

“You’re full of shit, Jess.” He shook his head, his hair falling across his face.

She took another photo while his guard was down. 

“Come sit down. Marlena put together a good meal.” 

Relenting after another photo out into the distance, almost wishing she dared to get closer to the edge of the overlook, she carefully disassembled her camera, storing each piece with reverence back in its bag, before sitting across from him. He had set up quite the array on the blanket: simple but delicious looking toasted sandwiches, glasses and lemonade, berries and chunks of watermelon, and what looked like very freshly baked chocolate-chip cookies.

“Ollie, it looks amazing,” she said with a smile, popping a sweet, juicy blackberry into her mouth with a small, exaggerated moan. “And tastes even better.”

He blushed, shrugging and laughing sheepishly. “All I did was carry it up here.”

She rolled her eyes as he deflected yet another compliment. He seemed to always be doing that, much to her frustration, and she made a mental note to find a way to make him see how much she meant them, how true each one was. 

Silence fell over the two of them as they started picking at the buffet between them, but it was an easy one, a pause rather than an interruption, and eventually conversation resumed. She asked him about his search for his father’s record and listened as he spoke of the things he had found, which weren’t what he was looking for but seemed to bring (mostly) happy memories of his childhood. He asked for stories of her family, and of what the town was like when summer-people left. 

“Sway Lake is a different place,” she concluded eventually, casting her eyes about her on the clifftop, “just like it is from up here. Or frozen in a moment in your record.” 

By now the remains of the food had been set aside, and the pair had scooted closer on the picnic blanket, sitting side by side and facing out, instead of across from one another. Hesitantly, Jess shifted her hand closer so that their pinkies brushed, daring him to take action and hold her hand again. He didn’t seem to notice as he turned to face her, eyebrows knitted in confusion. 

“I…” he cleared his throat and started over. “You have a really unique view of the world.” 

Something in the way he said it made it feel like the kindest compliment someone could give, and it was finally her turn to blush, ducking her head to hide as her cheeks heated furiously. 

“I mean I guess,” she fiddled with the edge of the picnic blanket beside her, plucking at a loose thread so she didn’t have to meet his eyes just yet. “I’ve never really thought about it like that...”

“The view up here must be great for photos,” he said, making her laugh at his abrupt change of subject, obviously picking up on her embarrassment and knowing it well. 

“Yeah, it is. I’m hoping they come out well. Thank you for showing it to me.”

“The way people were talking, it’s pretty well known...how come you haven’t been up here before?”

“Heights, remember?” she flashed him a half-smile as she tilted her head to one side. “I’ve never had someone invite me before who seemed worth the risk.”

“How do you know if something’s worth it without ever seeing it?”

“You know your record is without hearing it don’t you? Besides, I said someone, not something.”

He froze, blinking owlishly at her. 

“Ollie?” she asked after a long pause, wondering what was going on with him suddenly.

“Can I kiss you?” he blurted, and now it was her turn to freeze, the question momentarily incomprehensible. 

“Yes,” she breathed, barely getting the word out before his lips were pressed against hers. 

The contact was abrupt, almost a headbutt but more romantic. There was a moment of awkward fumbling, of bumping noses and clashing teeth, until their mouths finally slotted together properly. Even after finding the right way to connect, there was a split second of hesitation, and then his hands came up to frame her jaw, pulling her closer, the tips of his fingers teasing at her hairline and the small hairs that had escaped the scrunchie holding most of it back. Keeping one of her own hands on the blanket to hold herself steady, Jess wrapped the other around the back of his neck like an anchor and leaned into the pressure of his soft lips on hers. 

All too soon he pulled away, panting breathlessly, and staring at her with an awe that made her own breath catch in her throat. She was half tempted to pull him back into another kiss, if only to make him stop looking at her like that. 

A distant roll of thunder shattered the moment, and her eyes flickered toward the clouds gathering on the blue-purple horizon. 

“We should probably head back, before that gets here,” she said reluctantly, wishing she had more time.

Ollie nodded in agreement, and the two of them made quick work of packing back up the remains of the picnic. He handed her a heavy black flashlight (that, she noted gratefully, and then laughed internally at her own thought, would double as a decent weapon against a rogue mountain lion at least long enough to run) and set off down the mountain. She tried to follow him without looking down, but the uneven terrain in the growing darkness made that too difficult to maintain. Soon the very idea filled her with just as much fear as looking. The edge of the path seemed to drop sharply, drawing ever closer to her feet in the narrow beam of yellow light, until it felt like she was walking along the very line of the drop. 

She stopped short with a yelp, head spinning from the sensation and whole body trembling. The sound made Ollie turn around sharply, placing himself as a barrier between her and the fall as she pressed her back firmly against the rock. 

He took her by the shoulders, trying to get her to make eye contact instead of staring blankly at the sight, or lack of sight beyond him. 

“Jess? Can you hear me?” he asked. “It’s alright, Jess. I’m right here, I won’t let you fall.”

Her blood roared in her ears and she saw his lips move but it was too loud for her to hear him.

When talking didn’t seem to work, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into a tight hug. Her fingers curled into his sweatshirt, clinging to him like a lifeline. Face pressed into the side of his neck she let out a sob, as the world spun around her much too fast.

~

The rest of the journey down to Ollie’s station wagon and much of the drive were a blur. Jess wasn’t completely unconvinced that he had somehow found a way to carry her down, although that was giving his physical strength more credit than he looked like it deserved. The storm picked up as they drove, clouds turning the sky to black, lit only by the occasional crash of lightning, and rain slamming against the roof and windows.

All too soon, the car stopped, parking in the narrow street in front of her building. They exited the car and promptly Ollie took her by the hand, lacing their fingers together. Not wanting to stand in the rain, she used the point of contact to drag him along, running as if she could dodge the water falling from the sky until they made it to her door. They stood there under the eaves, hair and clothing dripping, facing each other reluctantly, not wanting to say goodnight just yet.

“Tonight was…” he said, pausing. 

“Amazing?” she finished, smiling and feeling the light heat of a blush on her cheeks.

“Yeah. That.” He smiled back, and looked for a moment (during which her heart beat like a bird trying to escape her chest) like he was going to kiss her again. “I should let you go inside…”

“Stay over,” she blurted out before she could consider the words. 

“W-what?” he stared at her like she’d just grown an extra head or twelve. “Jess I can’t do that…”

“It’s late. And the weather’s bad. And I saw you yawning while we were driving back. I’d worry about you if you tried to go home now.”

“It’s just around the other side of the lake…”

“Yeah, but that’s like half an hour unless you drive recklessly. All it takes is drifting off for a second...please stay?”

“But...what will people think?”

“People,” she raised an eyebrow, “or your grandmother?”

“I don’t just mean her. I don’t want you to be treated like--”

“A slut?” 

He shuffled and looked away. 

“People aren’t that bad, you know. There are a handful of dicks, but most of town doesn’t give a shit.” 

“I didn’t mean…” he frowned. “I’m a Sway. I know people don’t like my family. If you’re seen with me like that...I know what being an outcast feels like, and I don’t want you to have to feel that way.”

“Well I guess you'll just have to make sure no one sees, then.” She smirked, before she sighed. “Look, Ollie. We're grown adults. What we do at night, or any other time, or with whom is no one's business but our own.”

“I know but--”

“No. No buts. I wouldn't have invited you to sleep over if I didn't mean it, or I wasn't prepared for gossip and fallout. It’s up to you. I just would feel a lot better if you did.”

“You really want me to stay?”

She rolled her eyes and fixed him with a look rather than actually answering. The wet breeze sent a shiver over her as she turned to unlock the door, not waiting anymore for him to make a decision. 

“And it’s not...too fast?”

She shrugged, taking him by the arm to pull him into the house and into a kiss. Her other hand threaded into his hair and his hovered over her hips as if he wasn’t quite sure he was allowed to touch her .

“Too fast is a myth,” she murmured, breath ghosting across his face. “Besides, I was inviting you into my house, not my bed.” 

She’d lost count by now of the number of times she’d managed to make Ollie blush tonight, but each time you did was just as adorable as the first. 

“Although, I was going to offer to take the couch,” she said over your shoulder as she led the way toward the furniture in question, “so I guess it was...also...into my bed…this is...I’m making it weird.”

“What? No!” he fumbled to reassure her. “I mean, no. You’re not, not no I won’t sleep in...I don’t want to, without you. Not that we have to sleep together. It’s just. It’s your bed.”

“God we’re a pair,” she said, laughing now as she dropped down and motioned for him to sit beside her. “Tripping over ourselves like romantic baby deer.”

“I just don’t want to mess this up,” he admitted sheepishly, sitting awkwardly perched on the edge of the cushion as if he was going to run at any moment. 

“Is there...something to mess up?” she asked, reaching over to take his hand and lacing her fingers through his. 

“I think so,” the words may have been a statement but his face was a question as he turned toward her a little more. “I don't want this to be some summer fling, Jess. I want it to be real.”

“Hey, summer flings can also be real. There was this one guy who…” she paused at Ollie's expression and shook her head, “never mind. The point is they're not mutually exclusive. But I appreciate the sentiment. And I’d really like that too.”

“What does that mean though?” he asked. 

She paused. “That’s what we have to decide. But...not tonight. It’s late. We should go to bed and talk about it when we’re rested.” She fought back a yawn that emphasized her point as she stood. 

He nodded, watching her turn and cross the room, eyes lingering low. It took him a moment to realize when she had stopped moving again. 

“Well aren't you coming?” 

“What?” he squeaked out. 

“It occurs to me, the bed is big enough for two and way more comfortable than the couch.”

“I…”

“I just mean to sleep, for real. And, I guess, maybe cuddling?” She bit her lip nervously. “Unless you're not good with that…”

He stared for another long, awkward moment. “Even with my nightmares?”

She shrugged. “Yeah. I’ll deal. Or maybe having someone else beside you will help.” 

Ollie scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over himself in his rush to join her by the doorway. She laughed, lacing her fingers with his and leading him further through the apartment, silently marveling at how well things had gone, for a first date.

[fanfoolishness]

Finding the Way (The Mandalorian)

(Cara Dune & Din Djarin.  After the events of The Rescue, Din Djarin could use a friend.  Cara Dune doesn’t know what it means to be a Mandalorian, but some things are universal.  Friendship, angst, alcohol, religious questioning.  ~2400 words.)

***

She found Din Djarin alone, after the Jedi left with the child.

Cara wasn’t sure exactly when he’d slipped away from the bridge; there’d been a lot happening.  Bo-Katan and Kosca had been deep in conversation about their next destination, Fennec was pinging Boba to set up a rendezvous, and she’d busied herself with gagging the unconscious Moff and stowing him away in a corner with extra restraints.  The bastard had a lot to answer for.

In all that, though, she hadn’t wanted to look at the Mandalorian without his helmet.  It had felt too private, too close, to watch his goodbye with the kid.  Once the Jedi left, it seemed he’d taken advantage of her inattention.  

Without a ship, though, he hadn’t gone far.  He’d only been missing for fifteen minutes or so when she realized and started searching for him on the security console.  She gave a hasty request for the others to watch the Moff -- not as if Bo-Katan would let him try anything else -- and took the lift downstairs.  

She found him the next floor down from the bridge, inside the officers’ mess.  The half-opened door was scored with blaster fire; likely Din’s work when the doors wouldn’t open for him.  She peered in through the half-opened door, glancing away when she saw his mussed brown hair, a glimpse of his face.  She still wasn’t used to it, and still wasn’t sure if it was okay for her to see him like this.

“It’s me,” she called, rapping on the door with her knuckles.  Surprising a Mandalorian was a surefire way to an early grave.  “Can I come in?”

His voice sounded strange without the mechanical filter.  Human.  Almost small.  “Do what you want.”

That was encouraging, at least.  He wasn’t kicking her out entirely.  

She entered the room, rolling her eyes at Imperial waste.  Real wood paneling lined the walls, and instead of the spartan standard issue bench tables in the rank-and-file’s mess, individual tables with sleek surfaces and cushioned chairs dotted the room.  Gideon himself must have taken meals here.  

Din sat at the bar at the back of the room.  There was a half-drunk cup of liquor beside him, his helmet resting next to it, its visor turned away from him. 

“So… you okay?” Cara hazarded, taking the seat beside him.  It looked like he’d made a decent dent in a slim bottle of aged Corellian whiskey. Only the best for the officers, of course.  This stuff went for big credits in the Core, enough so that she’d never tasted it herself.

“I’m fine.”  He didn’t look at her.  He just stared straight ahead at the wall, brown eyes fixed on nothing in particular.  From the corner of her eye she could see the color of his face seemed off, red and blotchy in places.  Hell.  He’d been crying.

Her stomach twisted.  “Look… I’m sorry about the kid.  I know that had to be hard.”

He was silent for a moment.  When he spoke again, his voice was strained.  “Grogu.”

“Sorry?”

“I found another Jedi a few weeks back.  She said she couldn’t train him, but she was able to talk to him, mind to mind.  He told her about his life before I found him.  His name is Grogu.”

“Huh.  Grogu.” She chuckled.  “It’s cute.  Suits him.”

A slight dip of his head, angled toward her.  He was very still.  She could see a muscle in his cheek twitching. 

Blast.  She was no good at this crap.  She fished around for something to say, something that could help.  Maybe she could get him to talk; listening might be easier.  “You’re sure you’re fine?  Because you don’t look fine.” 

“I needed to help him find a Jedi,” Din said hoarsely.  “I did what I was tasked to do.  This is the W—“

But he cut himself off, turning his face away from her. His whole head moved to the side to shift his gaze, remnants of long years wearing a helmet.  Every martial style had its tells, and she could see the differences between the ways Bo-Katan and Koska moved, and how the man beside her moved and battled.  He was different from them, in fundamental ways, but she wasn’t sure why they could remove their helmets and he couldn’t.  Until he did.

Cara shook her head.  Think of something helpful.  You can do this.  “He’s gonna be okay, you know,” she said suddenly.  “I know who that was.  We droppers heard rumors during the war that a powerful Jedi took out the Emperor on Endor.  It has to be him.  Skywalker.  What other Jedi would fly in here in an X-Wing?”

“Good,” said Din.  He still wouldn’t look at her.  “So the Imps will never take him again.”

“I’d like to see them try.  I never knew a Jedi could do that,” said Cara.  She’d heard stories, of course, but stories were one thing.  Proof was another.  “I’m just glad he was on our side.”

Din turned back to facing forward, jaw tensed.  He nodded, a tight gesture that somehow seemed too broad for him.  Without the helmet, it was disconcerting to see emotions popping up on his face, vanishing as quickly as they came -- sorrow, pain, shame.  It almost would have been funny if it wasn’t so hard to look at.  Live your life in a helmet, guess you never have to learn to control your face.

She took a guess at the emotion that flicked past, marked in the set of his eyes, the downturned lines at his mouth.  “I’m sure you’ll see him again.”

“Maybe,” he said, and his gloved hands clenched on the table surface.  He reached out and took a drink.

“I didn’t know you drank,” she said.

“I don’t.”  His throat worked as he swallowed and drained the glass.

Oh.  “Right.”  

She reached out and took the bottle from him, pulling back a long slug on it.  It burned, clean and fierce, but it was strong stuff.  No wonder it sold for the price it did; she was surprised he wasn’t slurring already.  “Be careful with this stuff, then.  It’s not for lightweights.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, then lapsed again into quiet.

Like talking to a durasteel wall, she thought.  “Look, I wanted to make sure you were okay.  That was rough up there.  I just -- if you want to talk about it, or something, I can listen.”  She leaned back in her chair, taking another drink of whiskey.  It seared.  “That’s all I’m trying to say.”

He turned toward her, canting his whole head instead of just moving his eyes.  There it was again, the tell that he’d lived in his helmet for a long, long time.  He took a deep breath, but he still couldn’t make eye contact with her.

“I know he has to do this.  I can’t teach him, not the way he needs.  I have -- I had to let him go,” he said.  The words sounded well-practiced, like he’d said them many times before.  

“I know,” she said.  “I’m so sorry.”  She tried a small smile, though her eyes watered suddenly.  “He -- Grogu -- he was crazy about you, you know?”

A slight shrug, shoulders scarcely moving.

“Well, he was.  Looked up to you like anything.  You guys have a bond.” 

“I did what I could for him,” said Din, closing his eyes.  “I hope it’s enough.”

“It is,” said Cara fiercely.  “You loved him, man.  No kid could ask for more than that.”

He was silent, and when he opened his eyes again, she could see that they were damp.

She swallowed, took another drink, unsure of what to say.  The quiet filled the space around them, a weighty, crushing thing.

Eventually she forced herself to speak again, casting around for something to say.  “So….  They’re making arrangements upstairs.  We’ll be rendezvousing with Fett soon, but you’re always welcome on Nevarro, too. Greef was heartbroken when I told him the Imps had the kid again, so I know he’d want to help you now.  Have you thought about where you want to go?”

“I don’t know.”  He turned away again, shoulders squaring beneath his armor.

“Well, if you don’t want to stay planetside for a while, it sounds like those other Mandalorians want your help. Honestly, if anyone could take back Mandalore, I’d put even credits on them. And on you.  Dank farrik, you even have that sword now.”

“I don’t want it,” he bit out.

“Yeah, I heard.  But you have it.  May as well use it, right?  Why give up a tactical advantage?” asked Cara.   “Sounds like it belongs in the hands of a Mandalorian anyway.”

“All the more reason for me not to wield it,” said Din, and there was something sour, something wrong, in the way his face twisted.

She stared at him, raising her eyebrows.  “What?  Wait. Are you saying —“

“I broke the Creed.  I showed my face,” he said, his voice cracking.  “I had a choice, and this is what I chose.  I am no longer worthy of my beskar.”

Cara tried wrapping her mind around it, remembered dragging him in from the battlefield, his blood hot and slick on her hand, the panic in his voice when she tried to remove his helmet to save his life.  “You chose to show your face to your child who needed you.  You did the right thing for you both.”  It didn’t make sense to her.  “I thought your people wanted to help foundlings.  Well, you helped him!”

“It is forbidden,” he forced out.

“You’re still a Mandalorian—”

Anger, grief, pain, rapid-fire flashes in his eyes and face, every muscle tensing for battle.  “You have never sworn the Creed.  You know nothing about it!”  

She bristled, fighting the urge to say something harsh, or worse, throw a punch at him to knock the sense back into him.  Beside her he was breathing harder, chest visibly rising and falling rapidly.  She bit her lip.  

“Okay, okay, maybe I don’t know what it’s like to be a Mandalorian,” Cara admitted sharply, lifting her hands to calm him.  “But I do know what it’s like to turn away from something you spent your whole life believing.  Alderaan had no army, remember?”

He breathed a little slower.  The flush of red in his face receded.  “You never told me why you became a soldier.  I assumed, after what happened --”

Her mouth twisted.  “Close, but not exactly.  I started seeing what my people couldn’t, before it happened.  The Empire was rising and people were dying.  Diplomacy stopped working a long time ago.  When I told my family I had to fight, even if that meant killing, they turned their backs on me.”

“They were blind,” said Din.  “The Imps weren’t going to stop expanding with peaceful protest.”

“Maybe,” she said.  This was the hard part.  The part that had taken her years to understand, that she was still trying to figure out.  “I think now… we wanted the same thing.  We just saw different paths to peace.  They thought pacifism was the way.  I saw the Empire killing people, terrorizing them, and that wasn’t peace.  I had to fight for peace to even begin to exist.”  She wiped her cheek, fingertips brushing over the tattooed Tear.  “So I was offworld, trying to become a new recruit, when the Empire showed Alderaan what they thought about peaceful resistance.”

“I’m sorry.”

She gave him a tight, painful smile.  “But the thing is, Mando, I’m still Alderaanian.  No one can take that away from me but me.  Not the Empire, not my family, not the royal house of Alderaan.  Even if my family didn’t understand why I did what I did, I knew I was fighting to bring peace.  That’s what makes me Alderaanian.”  No matter what.

He gazed at the beskar helmet, shining beneath the overhead lights.  Its black visor was an empty void, disconnected from its bearer.

She let out a bark of a laugh, blinking away tears.  “I don’t know, man.  It’s your life.  Your Way.  But if your Way won’t let you show your face to your own kid when he needs you, maybe some of those rules should change.  If you still feel like a Mandalorian, I think that’s what makes you one, and not what anybody else says.”

He closed his eyes, hanging his head slightly.  He shifted in his seat with a small clink, one armored arm now resting against his helmet.  “I don’t know what I am now.”

Cara took another drink from the bottle, finishing the last of the whiskey.  “We’ve got two women up there who’d kill you in a heartbeat if you said they weren’t Mandalorian, and they show their faces clear as day.”  She shrugged.  “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to talk to them about some of this stuff.  You could put it together with the old Way and make something new, something that feels right.  But for what it’s worth, Mando… you’ll always be a Mandalorian in my eyes.”  She clapped a hand over his shoulder, the beskar cool beneath her palm.

“It’s not --”  He struggled, mouth thinning, before he let out a long breath.  “That’s very kind,” he said slowly. He turned his head to look at her at last, searching her face.  He looked strangely vulnerable like this, far more so than he had dying in the dust of Nevarro. 

She nodded, attempting to smile, her mouth not quite getting there.  “Well, it’s true.”  

His face shifted into uncertainty.  “Perhaps the Way of the Mandalore is not… the only way to be a Mandalorian.”  He looked down at his helmet and swallowed.  “I’ll speak with the others, at least.”

“It’ll take time,” Cara said softly.  “You don’t have to figure it out right away.  Just… maybe hang on to your armor for a while, that’s all.”

He was quiet.  “Thank you.  Truly.”

“Sure,” Cara said, nudging him with her shoulder and giving him a quick smile.  “Any time.  After all, what are friends for?”    She leaned over the counter, pulling down another bottle of Corellian whiskey and grabbing an empty glass.  “What do you say to a toast?”

A dry chuckle.  “Sure.  You’ll have to tell me if I’m doing it right.  I’ve never done this before.”

“I think you’ll get the idea.”  She poured them each a glass, and raised hers high until it caught the light.  “To Grogu.”

The edges of his mouth turned up, just slightly.  Just enough.  He raised his glass to clink to hers, his brown eyes bright, his voice warm.  “To Grogu.”  

The whiskey burned in her throat, clean and pure.  To finding the Way.

[merryfortune]

A Trifling Matter

Written for 100ships on Dreamwidth

Prompt #43: Yellow

Ship: Himari/Ichika

Fandom: KiraKira PreCure a la Mode

Word Count: 2,220

Rating: G

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Fluff, Developing Relationship, Mutual Pining

   It was almost amazing how the KiraPati building could empty its staff. It had been all five of them for so long, it felt peculiar and out of place when other commitments drew away the other girls. Aoi had band practice whilst Akira and Yukari had to double down with studying due to upcoming high school exams. So, where the kitchen was usually bustling and lively, it was just Ichika and Himari in it today. 

   Just like the good old times in a way as Himari had been Ichika’s first recruit.

   But a little bit had changed between now and then. So many seemingly impossible things had happened; there had been highs and lows and all sorts of joyful moments in between that Himari could never had imagined on her lonesome. She was all rules and logic and being a Pretty Cure seemed to break that with superspeed.

    Ichika had been Himari’s first, real friend. She had always been a little awkward and lonely but Ichika’s energy and vivacity had completely broken through Himari’s heart that had been hidden for so long due to previous social rejections. Now she was Ichika’s - and the rest of their gang’s - little sweets scientist and Himari relished that security of friendship. And now something more too.

   Ichika had become Himari’s first, real crush. Himari was just infatuated with Ichika. She gave her attention and it was meaningful. They shared things between each other - books, study tips, and of course desserts too - and spent a lot of time around each other. Be it one on one or in a bigger group, like with their fellow Pretty Cures or their fellow classmates at school. 

   At first, Himari thought that her racing heart and red face around Ichika was normal, or to be expected. She wasn’t used to having a friend around so much but it just became too much. Himari was spending far too much time thinking about Ichika, even when they were far, far apart from each other or at odd times of the day or night. It then became apparent to Himari, who was ever slow on the uptake, that these strange thoughts about her friend were not mere thoughts at all. She was pining for Ichika.

   The realisation harrowed Himari. She had never been in love or in longing for someone before. She was worried that she would undoubtedly mess it up somehow and Ichika would never be her friend again, let alone her…. No, Himari couldn’t even bring herself to say the girl and the friend combination word. It was too embarrassing. 

   Fortunately, Ichika seemed to have her head in the clouds like the whip cream airhead that she was. She seemed to think that Himari bumbling through her crush to be her usual personality. The fact they typically hung out together in larger groups definitely helped to mask Himari’s feelings and how they kept puff, puff, puffing up inside of her like a sponge cake in an oven. 

   This afternoon was not one of those afternoons. It was just Himari and Ichika in the KiraPati building. Well, they had Pekorin and [what’s Chourou floating around, but they were doing whatever it was that fairies and not-ghost fairies did. They weren’t exactly making up the company that KiraPati usually bustled with and therefore, not helping Himari at all in this terrifying situation of it just being her and her crush.

   “So what do you wanna do this afternoon, Himarin?” Ichika asked with excruciatingly bright eyes.

   “I, um, well, er, there’s so m-much to… do?” Himari mumbled.

   Ichika laughed, “Would you rather go home for the afternoon?” she asked. “I won’t be offended.”

   “No!” Himari yelled back, spooking Ichika, making her blink twice. Himari blushed, she hadn’t meant to be so loud and she became mousy - or maybe squirrelish - again. “I love spending time with you Ichika…” she mumbled and even quieter, she added, “I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

   “Aww, you're so sweet, Himarin.” Ichika beamed and she pat Himari on the head, her hair felt warmed by the sun that was streaming in from the back window, it was nice. “Well, since you seem eager but are plumb out of ideas, I can’t believe, then do you mind if I make a suggestion?”

   “N-Not at all.” Himari stammered with a wobbly smile.

   “There’s a dessert that I want to try making and I think if its us, it’ll be the perfect combination.” Ichika said.

   Himari’s eyes lit up with wonder and went wide. Ichika couldn’t have been more pleased with such a reaction and her smile grew cheeky.

   “Well, here’s my bright idea: I want to make a trifle with you, Himarin.” Ichika announced.

   “A trifle…” Himari echoed back on the cusp of a gasp. “It's perfect.”

   “I think so too.” Ichika agreed.

   A dessert with a cake and a custard element: it really was perfect for a pair such as Himari and Ichika. They got to work almost immediately. Cake, especially sponge cake, was Ichika’s specialty so she was whipping it up with no problem. Equally with ease, Himari was sorting out the custard. Soon, the kitchen was smelling homely of vanilla as these two girls independently made their own to eventually marry together. Once the cake was baking in the oven and the custard was settling in its pot, the two girls joined up again to make the gelatin. 

   For the gelatin, they decided to go with a universal lemon and pineapple flavour, thinking that would complement whatever else they decided to add to the trifle. The acidity was easy for Himari to balance as she did more of the flavour balancing than Ichika who was more than happy to provide muscle by stirring up the crystals into the fine, watery jelly before putting it in the refrigerator. 

   That gave the girls a spare half an hour whilst everything had to bake and cool and chill and whatever else they needed. So, they tried to chip at their homework in the lull of their hard work. Himari enjoyed it but Ichika was chomping at her pens wanting to get back to the cooking. She was utterly impatient and doing poorly in her mathematics for it, but that gave Himari plenty of excuses to help and when Ichika finally got to focus, the way she lit up when she finally got a correct answer was absolutely worth it. 

   The way her face lit up when she realised she could finally get back to baking, or at least closer to it, was even worthier. Her grin was huge and it made Himari’s heart skip a beat as Ichika raced around the kitchen to check on things before making a final stop at the refrigerator. 

   “So, what kind of trifle should we make?” Ichika asked as she opened up the refrigerator, assessing its internal situation top to bottom. “One with berry flavours or one with citrus flavours?”

   Himari peeked just over Himari’s shoulder as she held out the door to refrigerator, she hummed, “Why not both?” she suggested in a tiny voice.

   “Oh, Himarin, you are a genius!” Ichika exclaimed.

   She began to grab practically everything out of the refrigerator. She scooped up everything out of the fruit tray and what Ichika missed, Himari was more than happy to help cart out to the main preparation table. They sorted out the various fruits by flavour so they could layer them appropriately in the trifle. It wouldn’t be long at all now until the timer on the oven dinged and the custard was sufficiently cooled.

   Now was the hard part which would require both their brains: what kind of animal motif should they try and arrange the trifle into? It was a very trifling matter, Ichika and Himari both found as they waited out the last of the baking. And then, just with the high pitched beep of the oven timer going off, Ichika had a perfect idea.

   “I’ve got it!” she exclaimed, rocketing to her feet and spooking Himari who had almost begun to daydream in the lull of their idea creation and their baking.

   “You do?” Himari asked.

   “An animal that was both rabbit-y and squirrely: a ferret!” Ichika announced.

   “Aww, that could be cute. Let’s try it.” Himari agreed.

   Ichika beamed and they got to work. She went over and opened up the oven, removing the cake inside of it whilst Himari brought the pot of freshly made custard closer. Whilst the cake cooled, Ichika whipped up some cream and sure enough, in no time at all, she and Himari were slathering up the cake and rolling it up, just to cut it through.

   Ichika stuck groups of four rolled cake slices to the glass bowl they were using. She giggled to herself, hoping the paw print motif would come through once Himari had began to lace the blank spaces with custard. Once the outer decorations were done, it was time to fill up the bowl from bottom to the top with its various layers.

   Together, Ichika and Himari made layers upon layers of cake and custard scattered occasionally with a blend of pineapple and orange juice to help the sponge cake absorb the flavours around it. Then, they added in a couple layers of the jelly they had made alternated with fresh cut fruit, whatever they felt like. Rings of pineapple slices, clusters of strawberry slices, random smattering of various berries. They were having a blast and before they knew it, they had filled the trifle to the rim of the glass bowl it was setting inside. Now was for the final layer, the top layer, and upon it, Ichika endeavoured to create the best ferret that she could.

   Himari smeared the last of the custard on top of the cake and fruit. She then shuffled to the side to let Ichika the artist go wild. Slowly, Ichika made a very long and winding shape out of slices of strawberries for a body and wedges of peaches for limbs. She dotted the head with blueberries for eyes and a nose before finally gifting the fruity ferret raspberries for paws. Neither girl could be prouder of the end creation.

   “This looks delicious, Ichika.” Himari smiled.

   “It does, I can’t wait to dig in.” Ichika squealed.

   “We should take a photo of it to show the other girls tomorrow.” Himari suggested.

   “We absolutely should.” Ichika agreed, whipping out her phone to take a frenzy of photographs, making Himari giggle.

   When Ichika finished, she handed Himari a large ladle to scoop and spoon out the trifle from the bowl. By now, their stomachs were practically empty and were grumbling accordingly. 

   “Let’s dig in!” Ichika enthusiastically said once she and Himari had been served up equal shares of the trifle.

   “Yes, let’s.” Himari replied, matching such high energy of Ichika’s.

   In their bowls, the trifle was dazzling with the kira-kiraru that they had worked up beating the custard and mixing the cake batter and layering up the treats in between. It was a very bright and yellow end concoction that glistened with hidden gems of red and blue from the strawberries and blueberries respectively.

   Himari neatly excavated the layers and was surprised by how soft they had become soaked in juice and custard. Having a sample taste, she was blown away by how remarkably harmonious the citric and classically sweet flavours of the trifle were. It mightn’t have been a traditional pudding on Himari’s sense of the dessert but it was spectacular nonetheless. Ichika ate ravenously beside her, pleased in her own unique and messy way that the ferret trifle had been a rousing success.

   As Himari savoured the sweetness of cake, custard, and fruit on her spoon, she mumbled around it, “This trifle is exactly like us.” Her cheeks were plumed redder than usual; she sounded - and even looked - very dreamy, too.

   Ichika noticed out the corner of her eye and slowly sat down her spoon, her bowl was practically empty, all but licked clean, “Yeah it is… Hey Ichika, can I ask you something?”

   “Y-Yes, certainly.” Himari blurted out without thinking.

   “Do you have a crush on me?” Ichika asked.

   Himari just got redder and redder, shakier and shakier, she looked fit to explode like a rocket.

   “‘Cause I have a crush on you, too, is all and this trifle got me thinking…” Ichika rambled.

   Himari just froze like ice-cream. She could not believe what she was hearing. She would not believe what she was hearing. Yet, despite being as stock still as any one human could be, her heart was racing a million miles an hour and her face was going very, very red. Redder than any strawberry could ever hope to hear.

   “Uh… Himarin?” Ichika murmured and she waved her hand in front of Himari.

   Himari continued to freeze and Ichika waited, patiently, for Himari to say something. Anything. And when she did, what she was able to utter out anything loud but those whispered words meant the world to Ichika.

   Stiltedly, Himari nodded then spoke, “Y-Yes. I like you, Ichika… You are the cake to my custard, just like this trifle.”

   “Glad to hear it.” Ichika giggled. She leaned in and pecked Himari on the cheek, short-circuiting her little sweets scientist again to both their eager delight.