#if you’re wondering how any of them could take the weight of a full grown man uhhhhhh bird bones. they hollow. yeah.

[becauseplot]

qPhilza perching on people because bird

qFit: Mans is built like a brick shithouse—he can totally balance Phil’s additional weight. The first attempt is a bit shaky, sure, but nowadays Phil swoops down or hops up onto Fit’s shoulder and all Fit really has to do is jut out his elbow to give his friend a little more space for his talons to work with. Bam, he’s perched. Works out about 9.9 times out of 10, though Phil delights in trying to catch him off guard.

qEtoiles: He doesn’t have Fit’s bulk on his side, so he’s not as sturdy, but he is strong. The landing is usually a little rough since Etoiles has to work a bit harder to counterbalance the additional weight, but he always finds that center of gravity in no time flat. Phil usually perches with one talon on each of Etoiles’ shoulders since he’s not as w i d e, just so Phil can have a little extra grip. At some point, Etoiles tries fighting a mob while Phil is perched on him, and that goes exactly as well as you would expect.

qForever: Honestly, with all of the hard labor Forever does for his big builds, Phil was expecting him to do better, but the first (several) attempts end up with Forever stumbling over and knocking Phil off of him from his wild arm-pinwheeling. They eventually figure out it’s more doable if Forever himself has something to lean on (a wall, a chair, the butt of his pickaxe) and Phil puts one talon evenly spaced on each shoulder. Phil learns some new swears in Portuguese in the process.

qMissa: Flattened. Full-on face in the floor, mouth full of grass, wind knocked out of his lungs at Mach 5 the first time Phil tries. Phil apologizes profusely, but Missa—once he can breathe again—just rolls over onto his back and asks Phil if they can give it another try. It takes a long, LONG time, but they figure out that if Phil plants his talons on Missa’s shoulder pads and leans forward while Missa leans back, they have a small little window of time where they achieve balance. The best part? Phil gets a perfect view of Missa’s goofy little grin every single time.

[moonstruckme]

Your work has been a great source of joy and relief to me (at last after a day of shitty circumstance i get to thrive in my free time with your witing) and i just want to thank you for that...💗💗💗

But i do also wanna request a jealous reader to james or remus, I'm genuinely curious as to how they'll handle that and what will they do to satiate reader

Thank you, sweetheart! Love you <3

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words

James looks especially sightly today, his brown skin gleaming in the sun and hair stuck slick to his forehead. He’s shirtless, which is always a treat, muscled abdomen sometimes distorted beneath the pool water and sometimes slipping above, inadvertently teasing, and his shoulders look especially strapping with Lily’s pale thighs seated atop them. 

You really like Lily. You’re quite disappointed in yourself, actually, for the hot flash of malice that goes through you when she burrows her manicured fingers in your boyfriend’s hair, laughing about losing her balance. James moves his grip from her knees up to her thighs, promising he’s got her. Something foul and warmish curdles in your gut. 

On the other side of the pool, Sirius and Remus advance like a totem pole with two wildly different faces, one menacing and the other reluctant. They’d asked if you wanted to play chicken, but getting pushed and shoved by Sirius isn’t your idea of a good time. You figured you’d be more content here, sitting on the edge of the pool with your feet kicking idly in the cool water, but now you can see how it does sort of look like a couples activity, Sirius atop Remus’ shoulders and Lily on James’. It’s no secret that James had pined after Lily for years. It was back in their school days, before you met him, but it’s been brought up a few times in a teasing way that’s made it clear to you that everyone knew how he felt about her. You wonder if Lily ever thinks about it. If she’s assured, consciously or not, that she could have him back at any time of her choosing. It’s not something you love to dwell upon. 

The pairs are fairly evenly matched. Sirius fights dirty, splashing water up at Lily and trying to unhook one of her knees from around James’ shoulder, but Remus can’t be bothered to participate and looks like he’d be just as happy to be pushed over and call it done. Lily, meanwhile, isn’t as creative a fighter and is only shoving at Sirius’ shoulders, but James provides a strong base. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of her legs, calling up encouragements and occasionally freeing a hand to pinch upwards at Sirius’ side. Sirius shrieks and swears at this, claiming that it’s against the rules. Eventually, Remus gets tired of supporting his boyfriend’s weight and feigns a fall back into the water. Sirius squawks as he goes down, and Lily and James cheer and high-five before he helps her dismount with far more grace. 

You clap and smile like a good girlfriend. James beams as he swims over to you. Sometimes looking at James’ smile at full capacity is a bit like looking at the sun, and you feel like you need some special glasses to gaze directly at it. This is one of those times. 

He takes your calf in his big hand and leans his cool cheek on your warm knee and makes you feel like the most special girl in the world, and you can’t stop thinking that Lily probably knows this exact feeling. 

You make extra sure to be nice to Lily on your way out later that evening, guilty and vexed with yourself for the way you’ve been thinking about her. James waves a friendly goodbye to the group as you both step outside. 

Instantly, his arm is around your shoulders, pulling you into his warmth. James was prepared for the nighttime chill, pulling a sweatshirt out of his bag as soon as the sun set, whereas you’re in a tank top and shorts that have grown damp from your swimsuit. You lean into him gratefully. 

“Did you have a good time today?” he asks.

“Mhm.” 

“Yeah?” He tilts his head a bit, looking down at your face. “You seemed a bit off.” 

You shrug. You should have expected James would notice. “I guess I just wished I’d participated more.” 

He makes a contemplative humming sound. “You don’t mean that you think people didn’t want you to participate, right? They love you, angel, you know that.” 

“No, I…” You want to say I know, but you’re worried you’ll sound conceited. You never usually second-guess yourself like this around James. You sort of hate it. “I just didn’t realize that if I said no to playing chicken, Lily was going to be your partner instead.” 

He’s quiet for a second. Something in your gut twists uneasily. 

“I thought you liked Lily.” 

“I do.” 

“Are you jealous?” 

“No.” 

You answer without thinking, because whatever you might be feeling right now, you are not a jealous person. You won’t be that kind of girlfriend. The breeze picks up, and goosebumps prickle down your arms, making you shiver.

“Are you cold?” James asks. 

You know he’s going to want to give you his sweatshirt, and you really can’t be taking things from him right now. “I’m alright.” 

“You know you’ve got nothing to worry about with Lily,” he tells you, thumb brushing softly over the skin of your bare shoulder. It should be reassuring, but suddenly you’re thinking about how this same hand looked so comfortable wrapped around Lily’s thigh. You step out from under his arm, crossing your arms as casually as you can against the chill. 

“I’m not worried,” you reply. 

James looks perplexed, and also a little dubious. The thought of him not believing you, even if you are lying, fills you with a burning indignation. 

“I just don’t see why you had to be touching her so much,” you say. “You could’ve looked a bit less eager.” 

He actually laughs at that, but the look on your face stops him quickly. “Sorry, but did you really think I looked eager?” he asks, a little smile still teasing the corners of his lips like you’re a child he has to talk down from a fit. “That’s just part of the game, sweetheart.” 

The way he says it, sweetheart, suddenly feels less affectionate and more like a placation. Condescending. Heat builds behind your eyes, and you realize with horror that you feel like you might actually cry. You’ve never felt so distant from James. Not even when you’d first started dating. 

You pick up your pace, staying ahead to keep him from seeing your face. “You didn’t have to touch her legs so much,” you huff. 

“I was keeping her from falling off!” he laughs, incredulous. 

You roll your eyes. James lengthens his stride to catch up to you. 

“So let me get this straight,” he says. He sounds more serious than before, which you thought you’d wanted but now you’re not so sure. Your heart trembles. “You wanted me to throw the whole game to just avoid touching my friend’s legs?” 

“She wasn’t always your friend,” you remind him. 

“Yes, she was.”

You don’t know how to respond to that. From a factual standpoint, he’s not wrong, but you know that Lily was more than that in James’ head for quite some time. He can’t boil it down to something so simple. 

The silence stretches out between you, ice-thin and just as cold. Then you shiver again, and James sets a hand on your shoulder. It’s only there for a second before he retracts it, as if unsure what he’s allowed. Your heart throbs. 

“You are cold,” he says, and his tone is doting teetering on the brink of accusatory. He grabs the hem of his sweatshirt. “Here, have—”

“I don’t want your sweatshirt,” you say sharply. 

James pauses. “Why not?” 

“I just don’t.” 

“Sweetheart, you’re cold.” 

“So what?” You cross your arms harder, trying to hide your trembling under the guise of general agitation. “That’s not what we’re talking about.” 

“What are we talking about?” he asks you. “How I let Lily sit on my shoulders as part of a game and now I’ll surely leave you for her?” 

Even as a joke, it stings. “Would you?”

“Of course not!” His hands spread out in front of him, helpless. “What do you want me to do? Should I just never be friends with another girl again?” 

“No, it’s not—it’s not that.” Your eyes burn. You’re frustrated with him for intentionally missing the point, and frustrated with yourself for needing his reassurance in the first place. “I just want to know that you’d pick me over her.” 

“I have!”

“You didn’t pick, James.” Your breathing is starting to sound ragged. The words taste acidic in your mouth. “She picked for you.” 

“Angel, that was ages ago.” James softens his voice, likely hearing the tears in yours. “I don’t see her that way anymore. She was right, we wouldn’t have worked together.” 

“But how can you know that?” Your voice breaks just as a harsh shiver goes through you, and you wrap your arms more tightly around yourself. 

“Alright, that’s enough.” You don’t have to turn around to hear that James has stopped walking behind you, his footsteps halting. Reluctantly, you slow in response but don’t turn around, waiting to see what he’s doing. “Come here.” When you don’t move, his voice hardens into a tone you don’t hear often. “Come here.” 

You turn around, more curious than anything, and James has taken his sweatshirt off. He tugs it over your head before you can say anything. 

“James!” you protest, squirming, but his hold is strong. He manages to wrestle one of your arms into a sleeve before he seems to decide that’s good enough and leaves you be. 

“Quit being so stubborn,” he says, still in that same tone. You stop trying to get the sweatshirt off, hands dropping to your sides. James has never been so stern with you before. You don’t quite know how to react. “You’re freezing, and your hair’s still wet. There’s no sense in suffering through it just because you want to have a row.” 

“I don’t want to,” you tell him, but your words sound petulant even to your own ears. 

“Then listen.” He takes your jaw in hand, setting his eyes on yours. “I do not want to be in a relationship with Lily. I thought I did once, but I don’t anymore.” He waits a second, making sure this sinks in, before his voice softens. “I’m going to be friends with girls. That’s just…that’s the way I’ve always been. But I’m with you because I’m happiest with you, and this isn’t going to work if you don’t trust me.” 

You nod, suddenly flooded with self loathing. A tear skids down your face when you blink. “I’m sorry. It’s not about…I do trust you, I promise. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.” 

“Honey,” James murmurs. The tear lands on his index finger, and his face pinches like it stings. “Listen, if I saw some guy with his hands all over you, I’d—”

“In a bathing suit,” you add tearfully. 

“With his hands all over you in a bathing suit,” he amends, “I’d probably be upset too. But you’ve got to tell me these things, you know? If you’d brought it up at the time, I could’ve told you I don’t feel that way about Lily and maybe you would’ve had a better afternoon.” 

“I didn’t want to be the jealous girlfriend,” you admit. “I really do like Lily, I didn’t mean to accuse either of you of anything.” 

“I think…I think some amount of jealousy has to be normal,” James says, brows bunched pensively even as his finger strokes at your cheek. “We’re each other’s, you know? It’s just letting it get in your head that’s the problem. If you’re thinking I’d pursue someone else while I’m with you, that doesn’t reflect very well on me.” 

You shake your head, leaning away from James’ hand to wipe your nose. “I don’t really. I know you’d be—you’d at least be nice about it. You’d tell me.” 

Pain etches itself into the indent between your boyfriend’s brows. He takes your face between both hands now, looking into your eyes determinedly. “I love you,” he says, bending to press a firm kiss between your brows. “Understand?” 

You wrap your arms around his middle, pushing past his face to tuck your head under his chin. “I love you too.” Your voice is ardent if a bit wobbly, tears that feel more like a reaction to a past fright than anything else still moving sluggishly down your face. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s forgiven, sweetheart.” James’ big palm comes to rest between your shaking shoulder blades, scrubbing up and down firmly. “Let’s get home, yeah?”

[pimosworld]

Moon shine

TLOU x Triple Frontier crossover AU

Pairing-Joel Miller x f!reader x Francisco Morales

Summary- You were a bartender at Joel's place and everyone knew you were his but when you meet Francisco Morales you wonder if there's room in your life for one more.

Rating- 18+,MDNI

Content warnings -Alcohol consumption,eventual mmf dynamics, smut,angst,fluff,violence,any further warnings will be added to individual chapters.

WK-4K

Chapter summary- We introduce Joel and Moonshines first meeting

A/N- See series Masterlist for full story notes. I love a flashback and this is basically a full chapter of that so enjoy.

[Series Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

Chapter II Under the table

Joel always managed to wake up before you, despite the many times you tried to surprise him and have his coffee ready. He always laughed when you’d come sauntering in the kitchen with a scowl on your face because he was somehow dressed and ready for the day before the sun could peek through the windows. 

  Sorry shine, old habits die hard. 

  It’s so foreign when you awake this morning to a hard body weighing you down, you open your eyes and just faintly make out the top of his graying soft curls on your stomach. His arms outstretched across you showing off the wide expanse of his back. You languidly trace the scars you’ve grown to love, he’s told you about most of them. You never pry further for explanation of the bad ones. His time before meeting you was laced with so much pain and anguish. 

  He’d talked for weeks about how much he couldn’t wait for the extension of his Miller family to show up with their friends. Possibly a combination of them finally arriving or the fact that it seemed they would all fit seamlessly into your lives. You wondered if his offer the night before was lust filled ramblings or a real proposition why don’t you get to know Francisco. Joel was never one to beat around the bush or not say what he was truly thinking. You couldn’t hide your attraction, he knew you too well and that was your one rule. Don’t ever lie to me. It held so much weight in desperate times. 

  You do your best to slide out of bed without disturbing him, he rustles a little reaching for you even in sleep, a deep bond formed over times of survival. You find the first things you see strewn about the floor are your clothes from the previous night. His flannel is a warm contrast on your skin to the cold floor on your bare feet. You pad into the kitchen only bothering to button the middle two, leaving you slightly exposed. 

  You know it doesn’t take much effort to prepare his straight forward black coffee but something about going through the motions in the stillness of the morning is so comforting. You can see why he clings to the ritual. It’s quite possibly one of the only things about his life that didn’t change. 

  ****

  You often think about the day you came barreling into his life, you made your way to the Boston QZ after the disaster in Hartford. You and your older sister Liv had been on your own since the outbreak, doing whatever it took to survive. She taught you as much as she could with her being only 17 and you 15. You spent 8 years in Hartford until the military pulled out. She knew after that day it wouldn’t be safe for you two. 

  10 years ago

  Your feet pound against the pavement as you fight the urge to turn around and see if you’re still being chased. The echo of footsteps and shadows along brick walls at every corner. The hot burn in your lungs is hard to ignore but you know you have to push through. The thought of being caught and the unknown consequences pushing you through the pain in the soles of your feet. 

  You knew it was risky being out past curfew but you were so desperate to find your sister. It’s been days since you’ve arrived here and still no sign of her. 

  You think you may have lost them but you want to be sure as you round another corner, looking over your shoulder instead of ahead at the dead end alley. 

  Fuck

  The crunching of leather boots on concrete drawing nearer to you as your heart hammers in your ears. You’re searching the surroundings for anything, a weapon, a fire escape, anything to help get you out of your current predicament. It’s wall to wall brick on either side and a bunch of wooden crates. You see a dumpster further down the alley and crouch behind it, discarding your hoodie and glasses. 

  A door in front of you flings open and a box of empty bottles is tossed on the ground causing you to yelp in surprise. You’re  met with the sight of an older man, broad shoulders and a grim look that would have anyone else running in the opposite direction. He stands in the light of the doorway taking in your appearance as you still try and catch your breath. 

  He’s looking you over, deciding your fate which he knows he has mere me seconds before whoever is chasing you is coming around that corner and he has to deal with it or let them have you. You look too young to be out past curfew but too old to have parents worried about you. 

  It feels like an eternity as you wait for this man to make a move, he looks like he’s battling with himself about what to do with you. Maybe you should be scared of him but something tells you to trust him-he has kind eyes. 

  “God damn it, get inside and make it quick.” He stands out of the way as you barrel towards the door , staying crouched just in case. 

  He closes the door behind you with a thud as you stand in the unfamiliar hallway. He brushes past you not bothering to beckon you along so you decide to follow, far enough behind to give him space but close enough to not lose him. The floor is lined with red carpet and the end of the hallway on an opaque door reads office. 

  He doesn’t lead you there like you expected as he turns the corner into a dimly lit bar. The back wall is lined with liquor with a cracked mirror underneath. This place looked somehow untouched from the chaos outside, you were thrust into a time you never knew but somehow ended up in an environment you knew all too well. 

  He takes a seat at a stool facing the bar where a singular glass of amber liquid is placed on the counter. It seems you’re alone but he’s made no move to harm you or help you beyond letting you inside. 

  “Who’s chasin’ you?” He takes a sip of the drink and fails to hide the wince in his eyes.

  “I don’t know.” 

  “Don’t lie to me or I’ll let you back out there.” He still hasn’t looked at you directly but you can see him in the reflection of the cracked mirror watching you. 

  “ It might be FEDRA and it might be someone else. I heard someone yell stop and I took off running.” 

  Bang!Bang!Bang! Three heavy wraps on the front door have both your heads turning. 

  “Get behind the bar and grab a rag.” He stands from his stool as the banging persists and you don’t hesitate to take the hint. You scurry behind the bar grabbing the first rag you can find and start wiping down the counter as he opens the door. 

  Two FEDRA soldiers by the looks and uniform are at the door, one short and stumpy doesn’t look like he holds much weight, the other dark haired tall man with the way he carried himself has a little more stature you suppose. 

  “We’re closed for the night fellas.” 

  “Who’s inside?” Joel grits his teeth as he steps out of the doorframe. He recognizes the two as frequent patrons but that’s a strong word considering they don’t provide ration cards. 

  “It’s just me and my bartender closing up for the night.” You offer a smile to the men as you resume your task at hand. Behind the bar is actually filthy so you might as well make it look believable. 

  “When did you hire a bartender? It’s just been you and Charity since Tommy—.” Joel clears his throat as the other man shoots him a look. 

  “A few days ago, I figure I needed some help around here.”

  “It’s past curfew, how’s she getting home?” The shorter one runs his hand along his jaw as he licks his lips at you. 

  “I’ll worry about how she’s gettin’ home and you worry about how you’re gonna keep drinking for free if you ask me any more questions.” You thought he might be pushing his luck with the way he spoke to them but the taller soldier raised his hands in defeat while the shorter one scowled as he left, never taking his eyes off you. 

  “She better be here tomorrow Joel.” Joel —so he had a name after all, you suppose you could stop calling him mr. grumpy in your head. 

  The door closes and Joel locks it behind them, you release a breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding. He takes his seat again at the stool and finishes his drink. He hands you the glass and points to the bottle just behind your head at the wall. 

  He expects you to falter but you grab the bottle off the shelf almost out of reach so you have to stand on your tiptoes. He takes notice of the way your gray cargo pants hug your curves, quickly averting his gaze when you turn around. You were so focused on your task you almost missed the way he looked at you.

  “I assume you have ice.”  He points to the half full bar sink filled with questionable looking ice. You’ll have to make due but seeing as he has a decent assortment of bar tools you could do your best. 

  Surprisingly he has most of the ingredients you want to make your drink, you don’t think too long and hard about the expiration dates. If they’re behind the bar then he’s serving them. 

  “You can just pour it in the glass sweetheart.” 

  “You can just be patient Joel.” He has to ignore the way his name sounds coming from your lips. “Besides…I’m the bartender.”

  He chuckles and leans back in the stool, you’ve most certainly peaked his interest as he watches you make a drink with practiced ease. 

  You taste the simple syrup before you add it to the glass, you suppose sugar and water wasn’t that hard to come by. You take stock of everything he somehow has. You add the bitters that no doubt have expired but who cares since it was bitter, the expensive whiskey on the other hand definitely had you raising an eyebrow as you did a perfect 1.5 oz pour. 

  He’s trying to hide his expression as he watches you, adding each ingredient of a cocktail he knows all too well but for some reason hasn’t attempted to make himself. You’re shaking the drink vigorously above your head and he tries to look anywhere but your chest as the movements jostle your breasts in the black tank top. 

  You double strain the drink into his glass(questionable ice), and garnish it with lemon peel, not hard to come by if you know someone that grows. 

  “You’ll have to do without the cherry, I know they’re in season but outside the wall.” He takes a mental note to get some cherries on his next run. 

  He takes the first sip and he’s a goner. It’s solace and liquid warmth. The whiskey is shocking but the sweet is soothingly familiar. The bitter is a biting reminder but the lemon is ripened and savored nesting comfortably on his tongue. 

  “Not bad.” You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek, this man just saved you for Christ sake. It’s a deep bruise to your ego but you’ll have to take it…just this once. 

  “Where did you learn to make this? You start to clean up your mess not wanting to make eye contact. Your sister always said you were stubborn until the end. “I don’t mean to offend…you seem like a girl that can handle yourself but this drink is beyond your years.”

  “My grandpa liked to drink…and he was very particular about it.” You lean back against the bar facing the cracked mirror with your arms crossed. 

  “So what you were out here makin’ drinks at 10?” 

  “Of course not…I was 12.” He makes an unamused face as he finishes his ‘not bad’ old fashioned. 

  “What had you runnin’ into me tonight?” His tone is a lot more serious than his previous question. You meet his eyes in the reflection contemplating your next words. He wouldn’t go this far to turn around and rat you out. It also seemed like he was breaking a few rules and you at least owe him an explanation. 

  “I’m trying to find my sister.” You take a deep shuddering breath. “We came here together and they separated us after we were scanned.” His eyes drop down to his empty glass and you both know what goes unsaid. 

  “I don’t remember her getting bit and she never said anything to me. No one was helping so I’ve been staying out late at night trying to find her.” Joel knows more than anyone that you can't ask too many questions during daylight hours. 

  “I’m sorry…I lost my brother a few months back-.”

  “She’s not lost!” You snap involuntarily but he doesn’t budge. 

  “I’m sorry for that…you’ve only helped me and I didn’t mean to react that way.” You hate the timid sound of your voice but you know you almost got yourself killed tonight for a lost cause. She was gone and you both knew it. 

  “No need to apologize sweetheart.” He stands from his stool as he rounds the bar, he was deliberate in his movements. A man who had no time to waste even in times of leisure. He pours  a glass of clear liquid from a mason jar and hands it to you. 

  You’re grateful for the water after your chase but your face must say otherwise. 

  “It’s fresh I promise.” 

  “No it’s not that…I was just hoping for something a little stronger.” He gestures to the wall you’ve all but memorized. 

  “Help yourself.” 

  “I was hoping you had something stronger than…that.” He knows you’re trying to get a rise out of him after the slight at your drink. 

  He turns around and bends over, your breath hitching in your throat at the sight of his tight jeans and gray flannel riding up just enough to expose his lower back- (briefs man…interesting). He flicks at a tile on the floor exposing a dark hole that he reaches down into pulling out a clear bottle marked with three x’s. 

  “This is the strongest I got, but I’m afraid I can’t carry you upstairs so you can have just one.” You take the bottle from him and grab two shot glasses from behind the bar pouring you each one. 

  “Joel…no offense but I can drink you under the table.” His raucous laughter is almost startling. You didn’t think he was capable of it and it takes you by surprise. 

  “Okay…let’s make it a bet. If you win I’ll let you stay here for a little while.” He raises the glass to you awaiting your response.

  “And if I lose?” He clinks your glass and takes his shot exhaling pure liquid vapor in your face. 

  “I’ll let you stay here…for a little while.” You down the clear liquid without so much as flinching but you can feel the burn all the way down your chest until it settles deep in your gut. You’re a goner. 

  ****

1 hour later 

  You’ve both filled each other in as much as the liquor will allow on how you ended up in Boston. He was from Texas and you were from New York. You each left out some details in the middle, maybe a little too heavy for the first meeting. One thing you knew was you weren’t strangers to loss.

  “Sweetheart I’m skunk-drunk, I think you may have won this round.” You’re a ball of giggles because you know you’ve already won. Somehow this cowboy in shining flannel provided you with a bright light in a bleak world. 

  “So…how am I getting home?” You recalled what he said to the soldiers and you weren’t sure if he was still covering for you.

   He stills for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. You were something special that was worth preserving and you’ve both had far too much alcohol for him not to feel guilty. 

  “I’ve got a vacant apartment upstairs where I keep most of the booze. You can stay there if you promise not to drink it all.” He winks at you and suddenly you’re weak in the knees. You’ve never really had the chance to feel this way about anyone. 

  “Please lead the way before you have to carry me up these stairs.” Your tired sore feet follow him up the stairwell as you become acutely aware of how long this day has been. For days in the place you were assigned to stay you’ve been staying awake, not fully trusting your surroundings. 

  He stops at apartment 15 and unlocks the door, he holds it open waiting for you to enter first. There isn’t much space in the living room as it’s filled with crates. The rest of the space however is clean, the floors hardwood and the singular window against the brick outer wall casting the shadows in the moonlight. 

  “The hot water works and there’s extra sheets and towels in the closet.” He suddenly sounds as timid as you did earlier. 

  “Thank you…for everything.” He hesitates a moment in the doorway, his eyes saying a million things all at once. 

  “You’re welcome.” He closes the door softly, finally leaving you alone to unwind. You had hoped you didn’t imagine the pull you felt towards each other but he’s already gone above and beyond. It would be selfish to think any more of the situation. 

  ****

  The shower sputters to life as you impatiently wait for it to reach an acceptable temperature. As you step in letting the flowing water cascade over you, washing the day away. You keep your head back for several minutes entranced in the way the hot water permeates your scalp. 

  The steam is steadily building and you think between the drinks and the hot water it’s best you step out before Joel finds you passed out in his vacant apartment filled with booze. 

  You see your dirty clothes strewn about the bathroom, the only clothes you have at the moment and grimace at the thought of putting them back on.You decide you’ll deal with that tomorrow. Dawning only a towel you make your way into the bedroom, having a seat at the foot with the freshly changed sheets. 

  A faint knock on the front door has you jump a little. You walk on tiptoes towards the door, holding your towel tight to your body as you look through the peephole. Joel. He’s staring down at the floor sheepishly, shifting from foot to foot. You open the door and see him standing with some items balled up in his left hand. 

  “I…” He swallows hard, taking in the sight of you in your towel, tiny water droplets on your skin glistening in the moonlight and you looking up at him expectantly. “I wanted to bring you some clean clothes.” 

  He holds out the flannel and sweats for you as you take them from his hand. “Is that all you wanted?” 

  The moment feels like an eternity, you both holding onto the clothes neither one of you letting go, he slowly tugs you toward him as you press against his chest. Only the towel separating you as he takes his free hand and cups it around your neck pulling you into a desperate kiss. He tilts his head leaning into the kiss as his chapped lips engulfed yours, stealing every breath and moan from you. He finally pulls away as he rests his forehead against yours. 

  “Please tell me you’re still holding that towel.” He’s half panting as you laugh and place a kiss to the hollow of his neck. 

  “I am. If you want me to be?” He groans internally at the thought of him looking down to see your naked body pressed against his. 

  “Next time…when we haven’t had so much to drink, maybe you won’t be.” He steps back from you releasing his grip on you and the clothes. 

  “Goodnight Joel.”

  He closes the door behind him leaning against it.

Goodnight Moonshine 

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[bluepotion85]

The Golden Ratio - Chapter 8

(The following story contains male weight gain, food play, BDSM, kidnap, encouragement, and feeder/feedee scenarios. If that's not for you, then go to church or something vanilla dude.

This takes place during and after the events of the One-Piece film GOLD. For a better experience see the film on your local streaming service.

This story is written in collaboration with @bee-wg)

Tesoro

It’s been two days since the encounter in the bathhouse and Roronoa still acts like nothing happened. 

Regardless of him acknowledged it or not, something awoke within him. I can tell as much, with how his gaze lingers longer on my body. Whenever I catch him staring, he immediately looks away. Or, in today's cases he tries to play it cool. Well, as cool as he can take anything.

“What do you think you’re looking at?” he says.

“Looking at my biggest fan,” I reply.

“I’m not that big,” he replied.

“Not what I meant, but if the shoe fits.” 

He grunts before laying back on his bed. The dog bed was a good idea. He naps there most of the day, mindlessly chewing on the mochi. Sometimes I wonder if he is more house cat than human. 

“We can't stay here all day! Today is the special performance I arranged, so get your ass up,” I said, pulling his leg.

“Fine, just let me get some clothes and get this over with,” he yelled back.

While he got dressed, my attention went to his expanding body. Like a snowman starting to melt at the end of winter, his body droops over itself. His arms were thick as sausages, constantly rubbing against the ring of fat his moobs made. Tits that rounded out while they rested on his belly. A sagging gut that bounces with every ill attempt to fit in pants that were tailored for him pounds ago. 

After the evening at the bathhouse, he became more self-conscious about his weight, trying to curb his appetite with the mochi during the day. As if the constant calorie flow of sweets could help him lose weight, he was just too simple-minded. Even then, his appetite had grown more than either of us could anticipate, so his meals continued to grow alongside his waist.

In hopes of easing his mind, I sized up his set of clothes overnight. It was a hard choice since It was so enthralling to see him fighting against his flab. It's a shame but a necessary measure.

Once he is clothed, we set track to the main stage for today’s event. Most of the day was spent making sure everything was running smoothly for the performance.

By the time the concert was about to start, Roronoa’s belly roared, begging for food. 

“I’ll order lunch to be delivered to our seats," I said.

“Could you ask them to bring more this time around? I barely stayed full yesterday.”

“I will need to open new restaurants just to keep up with that appetite of yours.”

“You're just looking for any excuse to do more business,” he replied. 

Making it to the theater box. I throw myself against my chair, looking out at the crowd. 

“You were right, the place is packed,” he said, looking out the window before sitting beside me.

Before I could reply, his food was here and his attention completely shifted. The show is about to start but I have one last thing to do before. Let's get this over with.

At the side of the room was a control panel with a Den Den Mesushi. I ring it and not too long after, the voice of a woman resounds on the other end.

“Mister Tesoro, good evening.”

“Ready for the show, Uta?”

“Yes! Thank you again for the help financing us. This performance will be a great test of our streaming capabilities and-”

“Great to hear you are excited but remember this is not a rehearsal, I'm paying good money for you to give your best material.”

“Absolutely! I'm making sure everyone is happy today.”

“I'm counting on it. You go live in five minutes, so get ready.”

I hung up as she thanked me again. When her time is up, I grab the microphone from the control panel and press the button that starts the show. The lights on the stage go black and my face is projected for the audience. 

“Welcome everyone to today’s special event! Transmitting directly from Elegia Island, Uta!” 

My face vanishes from view to be replaced with one belonging to a young woman. The worldwide sensation makes the crowd go crazy. 

The uproar catches Roronoa's attention and he looks into the crowd for the first time since he started eating. His attention on her doesn't last long and he continues with his meal. Great, after paying for this much, not even this attracts the attention of the simpleton. But in all honesty, who could blame him? 

“We can choose the way of our future, Try a brand new path, we can change the world.” 

It's so generic, the most basic hopeful sentiments for the lowest denominator of an audience. The beginning of a song should be grand and extravagant, with the amount of money I'm paying, this girl has the audacity to sound slightly pitchy.

I mean it works in our favor, people get inspired and spend a fortune in our slots thinking they can make their dreams come true. But at the cost of putting me to sleep.

“Ugh, what an amateur,” I said through gritted teeth.

“What is the matter? I thought you wanted to see her perform?”

“Me? No, this was all for business. But she clearly fell off.”

“She fell off the stage?”

“No, I mean Soul King managed to get a platinum record within the first week of release. Or Maria Napole, she stayed in the top 10 for eleven weeks. Meanwhile, this is her first live performance and it's like a lagging Den Den Mushi.”

“Is it that bad?” he said looking down at the cheering crowd.

“They seem to like it.”

“Of course they do, they are simpletons. They are getting distracted with her dreams come true Mombo Jumbo, to realize she is lacking all musical talent. Any amateur could do better.”

“You could do better then.”

“I'm no amateur.” I barked back.

“Not what I meant but if the shoe fits,” he said with a grin. 

Cheeky little bastard! Then the idea popped into my head. Going to the control panel I pressed some buttons and the box turned silent. The room has a noise-canceling feature for private meetings.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Showing you how a professional makes music.”

Not too long after someone knocked at my door, one of my workers came with a delivery.

“Here is the piano you ordered, Sir.”

The double doors for the room open to let the piano roll into position. After some preparations, Roronoa and I are left with the Golden piano in the middle of the room. 

I sat down in front of the piano, my fingers gracing its keys. My eyes glance in Zoro’s direction, he remains focused on the display of food in front of him. His expression is nonchalant as always.

Taking a deep breath, I get my hands to move, carefully playing each note of an old song. 

This song always reminds me of Stella, she was the one who got me to learn to play the piano. As the beat of the song rises my memory goes back to us, to her.

“I think your voice is lovely Tesoro, it would go along perfectly with a piano,” she used to say. 

In my attempt to entertain her, I starved myself for weeks, saved enough money to buy a piano keyboard, and practiced while singing to her.  

In those days my fingers would clumsily play the wrong notes, slip between the keys, or lose the rhythm of a melody. But she kept optimistic as always, rooting for me to improve. 

The years of practice have paid off, and now my hands make fast and calculated movements, as not precise of an instrument as the piano itself.

The structure of music is similar to that of lovemaking. The song builds up tension with a cadence, seeping into your pores and slowly pushing you to excitement. Even I felt its effects, as my body started to swing from side to side with the beat of the song. 

Nobody can resist the effect of my music, but when my eyes move toward Roronoa I see him unfazed. At first, I thought the simple-minded hog doesn't get good music, but as the song continued his demeanor changes. Or at least compared to the rest of the time when he's uninterested in the things I’ve shown.

Roronoa has learned to fetch food in a fast fashion, like a well-oiled machine. This time around he looks calm, looking at the set of dishes in front of him with delight. Taking his time to choose one food item and savoring it slowly before going to the next.

The longer the song goes the more he loses himself to the moment, crunches, slurps moans, and belches fill the room alongside the music.

Singing for me is a common thing, the guests at the Gran Tesoro hear me almost daily. But my use of the piano is more selective. Only playing it for important visitors or the past pets I captured. Usually, they are too scared, or too enraged by the imprisonment to express their true opinions on my music. 

Zoro on the other hand wears his opinions on his sleeves. Well, he never wears sleeves but regardless. 

The song builds up to its trill, with Zoro demolishing the meal in front of him with a rhythm that matches the beat of my song. He leans back against his chair, while his hands bring more food to his face. A smile creeps on his expression as the climax of the song approaches us.

Finally, the last notes of the tune were played and we stayed in silence, a sense of peace lingering in the room. Looking back at Zoro I notice the feast in front of him is almost done. His eyes are glazed in a haze of relaxation while he rubs the top of his belly.

“See? That's music,” I said proudly.

His eyes refocused on me and he replied, “It didn't make me jump off the building.”

I laughed, “Your expression said that you liked it more than that.”

“Yeah yeah, it was passable. Now don't get too cocky.”

He takes a bite of meat near him before adding, “I wouldn't mind another song to finish the rest of my meal though.”

Uta's concert ended and we were still inside the theater box, Zoro eating himself into a food coma and me playing every song I could remember. Something similar happens at dinner when I’m trying to tease him for ordering more than usual, but instead of acting tough he said, “Would you play the piano again? At least that way you would shut up.”

At that point I knew for sure, he loved my music.

The next morning I tried to force him out of bed but the pig wants to eat first thing in the morning, let's see if he wants to move after he gets stuffed. 

I call “Yolkdale,” a restaurant specializing in all types of breakfast menus from around the world. After placing an order big enough to challenge his capacity, I got back to my room and found Zoro snoring on the bed. Seeing him lazily rolling on his bed like a proper pig makes me want to get my hands on him. Rubbing every roll and fold of his blubbering figure or grabbing the cherubic cheeks that now grace his face. 

My body stays in its place, admiring his peaceful expression. It's endearing in a way, how it contrasts with the loud hardhead that's Roronoa. 

The minutes passed with me reading through some of my letters, nothing caught my eye until I saw a white envelope. For some reason, I feel it's important but before I could reach out for it, a rumbling sound echoed from Zoro’s direction.

He stirs himself awake, clutching his belly with a frustrated expression. 

“Did you get the food already?”

“I ordered some food, it should be here soon.”

His body jiggles violently as he stretches to grab more moshi from the mini fridge beside his bed. A grunt is all I hear as he realizes he ate the last one of them last night.

“What’s the matter pirate hunter, that gut can’t wait for a few minutes?”

“Not everyone can have a small appetite like you, some of us eats like real men.”

I get closer to him crouching to his level at the dog bed, “Real pigs you mean, you eat more than some giants.”

“Because I'm stronger than any giant.”

He grunts as I grab the flab of his middle, a fire ignites behind his eyes as I rubbed more of his skin.

“I don't know about strength but you are greedier than any of them, you like that don’t you?”

“Not as much as you perv,” he said with a grin.

As I get closer to him, his breathing gets faster.

“Want to test that idea? I'm sure you are dying to grow bigger than the giants” I whisper in his ear as I shake his overgrown belly. 

The smell of our early morning bodies enticed us both. I can almost hear his walls cracking the closer I get to him, that's when the doorbell rings.

“The food is here-” I said.

In a blink, his body is no longer under me. He rushed to the door looking for the food. 

“Hey wait!” I yell.

Zoro pretended not to hear me and I ran behind the bastard. I'm surprised to see him navigate himself so well. The glutton gets lost in a straight line but finds the way as soon as food is part of the equation.

His hand touches the doorknob when I snap my fingers and get the gold on the roof to morph into ribbons that wrap around his body, pulling him up and out of view. 

“Let go, you bastard!” the golden ribbons cover his mouth as he sticks to the roof.

When I'm sure he is not going to be seen I open the door to the delivery. Rows of workers march with trolleys filled with food, right into my bedroom. Some of them sniff around the place, obviously being affected by the scent of Roronoa. 

On their way out one of them lingered longer looking around, trying to find the source of the aroma. Instead, he finds my stare. The gold around the house rattle and shook as I said coldly, “Looking for something?”

All sense of lust abandoned his body, replaced by pure unfiltered fear, “No Sir, I'm sorry!”

He ran out along with the rest of the delivery boys. I close the door behind them and let Zoro slowly drop from the roof. 

“What's the big idea?” he said enraged.

“Nobody sees you like this, but me. Now be quiet,” I said carrying him over my shoulder. 

“I can walk on my own, you know.” 

“I thought you were too tired to move without breakfast.”

He stays quiet for a second, the lazy pig is thinking it. 

“Now that you mention it, I'm too hungry for the stairs back to the bedroom.” 

With a chuckle, I carry him back to the room. Once inside we are welcomed by the strong aroma of a full feast. Zoro hurries off my body, sitting at the border of my bed and getting into business. I marveled at the display of pure decadence in front of me. After pushing him in the right direction, he allows himself to glut at every opportunity. 

I set on the goal of turning the Zoro into a proper pig, and by the enthralled look he has now I know I'm close to that goal.

“What are you waiting for, an invitation? Eat something before I have everything,” he said with a mouth half full of food.

“Is that a threat or you are worried for me?”

He looks at me seriously, grabbing a piece of pastry and taking a massive bite of it. The answer is obvious, he is worried about me. His charitable host and master.  

I grab a plate of fruits and continue to witness Zoro’s titanic appetite decimating the load of food in front of him. Between the greedy munches and crunches of food, his stomach groans two-thirds through the meal. 

“I need a break.”

“Feeling full already? I thought you were stronger than giants.”

“Shut it, I'm going to finish everything, just need a minute,” he said, looking at the mountain of food still untouched. He rubbed his taut belly, and my hands craved to reach out to him, to feel the thigh skin of his middle.

“We don't have all day Zoro, let me help you finish this measly meal.”  

He looked at me with suspicion but sighed and nodded. 

“Perfect then, go to the side of the bed.”

He starts the titanic task of standing up with his belly packed full. Getting closer to the side border of the bed with laborious breath before plopping into the mattress. 

“That used to be easier,” he said as he caught his breath.

“It only will get harder if you keep stuffing yourself like this, but I wouldn't worry about that now. Just enjoy the road there.”

While he puts himself in position, I gather the rest of the food and place it near the bedside table. When he is done getting himself comfortable I stand beside him, 

My hands grasp the tight drum that's his belly now, meanwhile, he remains quiet under my touch. Slowly rubbing his skin, letting my fingers play with his gelatinous fat as a moan escapes his lips. Putting some pressure on his side he releases a belch in my direction, instead of shame or embarrassment he looks at me with a smug grin. 

His cocky attitude, the already obvious hedonism running through him is so erotic and enticing. We cross eyes, I can see in him the same desire flowing on me, we sink deeper in that feeling until his stomach churns again in protest. His body has a strong effect on me, I have to stay focused if I want him to sink deeper into my hands. Not the other way around.

When I think he made enough space in his stomach, I grab some crispy bacon from a nearby tray, “You are ready for more, now open up hog.”

He opens his mouth without hesitation, a new sense of determination in his eyes. Lowering the piece of meat into his open mouth, I feel a shiver down my spine when he licks my hand off the grease of the bacon. 

“I'm getting hungry again, so you better pick up the pace,” he said with the same cocky smile. 

“Don't come at me crying when you are stuffed beyond belief, Roronoa.”

My hands moved fast as they grabbed every piece of food they could reach, bringing it to the bottomless pit that was Zoro’s gut. While rubbing his belly with the utmost care. After all, he might be eating recklessly in the haze of gluttony, but I need to keep him comfortable as he pushes his capacity to the limit. I don't even need to use gold to stretch his stomach anymore.

The further he went in his binge the louder his moans got, the more erratic his bites turned and the hotter his body felt to my touch. In his attempt to get more food inside his demanding gut, he tried to grab food from the bedside table. I slap his hands away, and he turns to me like a wild animal ready to pounce.

“You can't use your hands, leave this to me,” I said, bringing a donut to his lips.

The wild beast melted leaving just a whimpering, needy hog, looking for more sustenance. Finally, he releases a massive belch and sinks into the bed, an expression that was a mix between satisfaction and uncontrollable lust.

His dick was hard, a stream of pre flowing out of him with each huff of air he took. My bed will forever smell of horny pig, but his pheromones drive me insane with desire.

The stubborn asshole remained quiet, trying to control the boiling need inside of him. He looks ready to cum at any second and yet he tries to resist. Fuck this, I’m breaking him one way or another.

Jumping on the bed, my legs rest at his sides, our crotches inches apart. Before he questions this, I get another morsel of food and bring it to his lips. He opens his mouth with delight, moans resounding across the room as he eats.

My hand explores his body further, Rubbing the crevices between his folds of fat. Sticking my fingers in his cavernous belly button and lifting the boulder that’s his belly. Stopping to admire its heft as it crashes back in place. I stop feeding him for a second, allowing him to breathe.

“I know what you are doing.”

“I’m just helping you out. Didn't you want that?”

“You are trying to get me to do more sex stuff with you.”

“It's all up to you, pet. If you want me off of you, just say the word.”

All the while we talked, my hands continued to massage his blubber. I grab his fat pad, squeezing it lightly. I could see him surrender himself when he said, “Make me cum.”

“So forward, what do you want me to do then, pig?”

“Everything, whatever. Just hurry up already!”

After ripping the clothes off our bodies, I get on all fours over him. We stay there absorbing the contrast of our bodies, his titanic mass of blubber beneath my toned physique. 

He tries to hold a whimper as our dicks rub together. He bucks his hips against mine, hunger for stimulation making him act without thinking. Our dicks rub, smearing pre against one another, leaving strings between us as I move back. 

He has cummed out of being fucked, teased and such, but he needs to know his body is capable of all of this and more with the proper care. My care.

Looking at his naked body, my attention goes to his behemoth of breasts. Like the rest of his expanding frame, they grew to match, if not surpass the rest of him. The two orbs of fat now droop over him, spilling to his sides and belly, dwarfing everything under them. If that wasn't impressive enough, they were crowned with puffier nipples that protrude even under the golden stamps. I'm compelled to bite them, but the stamps are in the way. I have a right to claim them; they have grown because of me and are only for me. 

With a flicker of my finger, the stamps move away from his nipples. 

“Your dick is not the only thing begging for attention pig, these milkers are crying for a good handling.”

I get closer to his chest, while my hand pinches his left nipple, I bite the right supple nubs of flesh. My tongue runs fast, sucking and licking them madly, getting my lips sealed around them and pulling on the tender skin. He moaned wildly, the feeling on his chest drowning him in ecstasy. 

Pulling myself off of him I see him panting for air, his belly groaning still hungry for more.

“You can’t stop even now, can't you pig?” 

“It would be easier if I could feed myself!” 

“I don’t think so. This has less to do with me feeding you and more with how much of a gluttonous hog you have turned into.”

His eyes lit up, a grin formed as he said, “You seem to like your hog.”

I could feel myself firing with desire, and for his reaction, he could tell as well. 

“Just as much as you like being one, and don’t even try to deny it. Only a hog to their heart could build a body like this.” I said, shaking his belly.

“A body derived from pleasure and built to give pleasure. Every inch of your body is nothing but abundant fat to fuck.” 

“Show me.”

Moving forward, I raised his gut, getting my hunged dick in the space between his fat pad and the base of the belly. Letting the weight drop with a wet plop I could feel the hot flesh envelop my cock. 

“See? I could fuck you in a different crevice every night, and by the time I used them all, new folds of fat would emerge.”

“Then get to work. This hog is wasting away,” he said with a grin.

Finding a rhythm was easy, considering how much my brain melted after his words were muttered. My hands searched for lube to fuck him senseless, finding more than enough underneath him. His butt juice flowed out of him like a dispenser ready for me to use. 

Once my dick was drenched in his scent, my hips start to rock, fucking his underbelly. One of my hands went for food, keeping him tied over. Meanwhile the other rubbed along his body, teased his nipples, grabbing his tits and slapping his belly. 

“Come on pig, show me how much you want this.” 

His only reply were the muffled moans of a mouth filled with food and drool. 

The room became an orchestra of belches, moans, and slabs of meat against meat. I fuck his side folds, under belly and by the time I enter his belly button the mountain of food starts to dwindle. I remember at the bathhouse, not being able to sink my whole finger into his belly button, and now inch after inch of my dick sinks into his hole. 

“Finish everything, and you can cum all you want.”

He redoubles his efforts, biting the food off my hands, liking the sauce from my fingers like it’s the last drip meal of his life. 

My hips pump faster, shaking his whole body. When the last bit of food enters him, I bite the juicy meat of his chest. My balls rose as a wave of cum flooded his belly button. At the same time he moans so loudly, all I can hear is the sound of his voice. His dick spews cum like a hose leaving him drained. 

He catches his breath, too tired to move, with me holding myself on top of him. We stay there huffing for air as the climax subsides and our bodies clear up. 

“Good job, pet.”

“Shut up, golden fucker.”

“I don’t see you complaining,” I said, rocking my hips against his belly. 

“I’m tired, leave me alone now.”

“Too bad, we have to go to work. Now get off my bed.”

“Come on, I’m stuffed, at least help me again with that. Then we can leave.”

I sigh and sit beside him. Slowly rubbing his gut like before. 

“I hope you see the unbelievable luck you have, the luck of getting my good graces like this pig.”

“Yeah whatever, can you rub more to the left.”

Applying more pressure, he released a belch and smiled proudly. His face brings a feeling of peace I haven’t felt in a while, I can’t remember the last time I was so at ease in my own quarters.

None of my pets before Zoro managed to embrace the lifestyle I offered them. Always resisting to their cores denying the joy of excess and pleasure. Meanwhile, here beside me lies the first man who has been able to accept it all and keep pushing for more. 

He doesn’t care for luxury or control, an absolute idiot who can’t hide his true self from my eyes. In a way he has proven to be all I imagined of him, and surprised me thoroughly all the same. 

I crave to tease him, spoil him, and rot him to his core with the lavish world of my making to see him transform even further. My train of thought got interrupted by his snoring.

The lazy pig is so thoroughly drained that he collapsed. I would throw anyone off this ship if they dare to overstay their visit to my bedroom, or even worse, take my bed as their own. But seeing him so peacefully rest on the right side of my bed, I can evade but wonder.

“One day off wont kill me.”

As I lay beside him on the bed, all my worries from the letters on my table to the crew outside, banished. He turned his body to the side leaving his flapping back exposed. I got closer, clinging my body to his. Letting my head rest on the nook between his neck and back. I can hear his breathing, the beating of his heart, and we are almost in sync, while both of us drift into sleep.

Roronoa Zoro is sinking deeper into my hands. But maybe I'm falling into his hands as well.

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

Zoro

After our little breakfast session,  Tesoro not only let me sleep for the day, he left me sleeping on his bed. Finally I could sleep on a proper bed, after months of hanging from walls and sleeping on dog beds. 

When I saw the delivery guys sniffing around, acting like a bunch of dogs looking for fresh meat. I had a thought: Is my body making them act like that?

Then Tesoro pounced on me and the question started to sound more possible. Even then, I wasn't too sure what caused it or how it worked.

For the next two days I worked on a plan to test my supposed new ability. We are both at his office when my hands go down to my ass, slowly teasing my entrance. The juice gushes out of me as I tease my ass. Tesoro remained at his desk while I played with myself. He moved in his chair uncomfortably, tugging on his collar. Breathing in, more and more of the tainted air in the room.

His eyes started to glaze with lust, and his hands meandered his body. When he finally looked back at me, I was already in a safe position. His body emanates heat, a wild desire on his face.

I'm onto something, my scent is making him crazy with lust. The days passed with me using my newfound ability against him at every waking moment. Seeing him become a sweaty mess, looking back at me with needy eyes.

The other effect this experimental session had on me was that my sex drive continued to increase steadily. Just the memory of Tesoro over my body drowned my brain. Him shaking my sides, pinching my nipples, fucking my bellybutton. Fuck, when did it get that deep anyways! 

My body has inflated into a balloon, a fat caricature of my former self. Even then, the more I grow the more my body experiences these highs of pleasure, I can't stop myself from imagining how it will feel in the future. Generally I would snap myself off this train of thought before acting upon it. But the longer I wait the harder it is for me to find an excuse not to indulge. 

By the third day, every little glimpse of his body would make me go into a heated frenzy. And my scent would make him a sweaty huffing mess. Our bodies are going haywire for one another.

After a massive meal, I rationalized, If I have this chance, why not use it? So I asked him for help.

“Rub my belly, I'm stuffed.” 

“Someone is demanding today.”

“Shut up, you want to help me anyway.”

Tesoro’s breath was fast as he approached me, rubbing his hands against my belly. 

“I have to take care of my needy hog.”

Today was a busy day for him, this was meant to be a small break. Even then, he took his time massaging me thoroughly. The more he rubbed the more I wanted him to explore my body and I could feel the same urge in his eyes. As the massage broke an hour I could see the fight of his two drives, one craving to fuck me on the spot and the other trying to keep the facade of control. Is this how he felt when I was on the cage or the wall?

“Someone is excited,” I said, looking down at his crotch.

“I’m not the only one.”

“Why don't we go back to the quarters and stay there for the day.”

His eyes focused on me, the haze of lust gone for a second as he thought his answer. He is a pervert and a shitty capitan, even then he works religiously every day. If he is willing to miss another day of work, then our last day off wasn't just a fluke.

“I was waiting for you to ask.”

He pulled me from the collar and ran out of the restaurant, my thighs rubbed against each other and I felt winded by the time we made it to the limo. Once we were back in his quarters he ripped the clothes off my body in a heated delirious motion. 

“Did you have to rip all of my clothes?”

“I'll buy them again, so shut up.” 

We start to walk to the bedroom but just looking at the staircase makes me wince. If I play my cards carefully I could get him to install an elevator. 

Leaving a sigh I said, “Why can’t you have an elevator?”

“No need for them till now. Besides, they aren’t the safest in an emergency.”

“This is an emergency.”

Suddenly, he picked me up and carried me over his shoulder.

“As long as I'm here you don't need an elevator, pet.”

It's not what I had in mind, but it works. As soon as we cross his bedroom door, he throws me in his bed. I thought he would skip the teasing since I suggested this, but he is determined to fuck with me.

The plan was to flex my newfound power with restraint, but it was too tempting not to use it as he turned more manageable. Tesoro would carry me around the ship, saving me the trouble of walking. Getting all the food and booze, I could stomach without having to leave the quarters. 

For two days I managed to keep him at bay by letting him rub himself against my fat rolls. But like all of my other urges, my hole’s need for attention took over my brain. 

It started in the theater box, we were watching another performance from the crew of dancers. The VIP room was empty besides us, Tesoro taking his notes of the show like always while I rotted out of boredom. Then the idea sprouts in my head, I spread my legs letting my scent flow. It doesn't take long for him to wriggle in his seat, his hand shaking as he takes the notes. 

“When is it over? I want to do something else.”

He turned towards me, eyes popped open when he saw me sprawled on my chair. My hands were busy playing with my hole and nips while lazily chewing my food. He towered over me in an instant. His eyes focused, waiting for me to ask him to act.

“Come on, this will be more entertaining than whatever they are doing.”

He immediately spun me around and pumped me like a wild buck. Shortly after a rush of cum filled my guts and I emptied my balls on the theater chair. We stayed there fucking until we both were spent.

“Don't they perform every day? We could spend more time like this if you gave them a break.”

His expression softened as he replied, “Maybe.”

He ended up giving them a break once per week. The day they should perform we went to the Castaway Lounge and relaxed with the projections. When images of Boin Archipelago start to appear, my stomach growls and my dick rises. These two are connected forever now, maybe losing all this weight will be harder than I expected, but that's a problem for later.

For now my brain is only focused on one thing.

I walk beside him, resting my belly over his shoulder. His eyes go from my gut to my hard dick, tenting my already revealing clothes.

“I need some help here,” I said.

He moves fast, opening his fly and grabbing me by my sides. He carried me on top of his body before shoving his cock inside me. I needed this, yes!

By the time we were done I was a mess of cum, sweat and butt juice. The place was so drenched in my scent Tesoro decided to leave it as our personal VIP room. Maybe most of his guests won't enjoy being horned up to high gear just by standing inside the room. 

The following day he works reinforcing golden pipes at the boiler room. The heat inside the room makes me sweat profusely. Well, more than I already do, lately I've been building a sweat with the slightest of things. Stretching to get myself a snack from the mini fridge will leave me an exerted mess. 

Regardless, the boiling room has that effect on everyone. Tesoro's clothes stick to his body with the moisture. His scent musky as always brings back the memories of those days stuck in his wall and I feel my dick rising. Those days were meant to be torture, I need to stop thinking about them; My body has turned into this weird thing thanks to it.

“I want it now.”

“Not now Zoro, you can wait.”

Before he was done, I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards me. His face was tainted with a frown as he looked at me. Our bodies mash together, my ass rubbing against his crotch as I look up and say, “I need it now.”

“We are in the middle of the boiler room, we can't-” 

He restrains a moan as I wiggle my butt against his crotch. 

“You fucking slut, have you got no shame?” he said.

“Shut up and do it before someone enters.”

Tesoro slipped through my string thin thong while he slid his dick inside of me with ease. He lifted me off the floor, putting my legs at his sides. His arms flexed as he carried my weight while thrusted into me. The sweat from our bodies already clinged to our clothes, but in this position, all of my butt juice dripped into Tesoro’s suit.

Every so often he would look around, making sure no one would look.

“Focus, you are doing a sloppy job,” I said, smacking his face and directing it towards me. 

That seemed to enraged him, his best response was to fuck me fast and wildly. I could feel my insides melt around his cock the faster he got.

When we were done, our clothes were ruined. He had to use some of the gold in the room to make us golden outfits, just in case anyone catches a glance at us. For a moment I thought he would lash back to this, I directly disobeyed an order. When he gives me a golden thong to wear back to the quarters I know his brain is too fried with lust to be mad.

“You are growing nicely, pet,” he said as he carried me up the stairs back to his bedroom.

I'm too tired to argue, “Why don't you order some sake or something?”

Damn I'm in dire need of training, I'm still exhausted from our session in the boiler room. While I struggled with my own laziness, Tesoro dropped me in his bed and reached for the letters at his table.

He read through some of them, instead of getting me a drink. Where is my sake, damn it!

“It seems like your friends are going to Whole Cake Island,” he said, a hint of concern in his voice.

I barely heard him, most of my attention was used in keeping myself awake. Even then, the mention of my friends catches enough of my attention.

“I don't know what type of crazy would willingly go to Big Mom's territory.”

“Our captain is a handful, they will be fine. Is that sake on the way?”

He looks for the next letter in the bunch and his eyes freeze at the logo on the envelope. The world government. Without opening the letter he puts it aside. For a moment I wondered if he would go out to read it or ask me to get off his bed, instead he got beside me, his slow breath remained hot against my neck as I started to fall asleep.

Days pass like that in a constant stream of sex, food, and sleep. I could ask Tesoro to do as I please and he would follow suit. Just for Tesoro to throw orders while we have sex and my body follows along. Maybe he wasn't so wrong after all, my body is an instrument of pleasure, capable of making even that Golden perv my plaything.

Maybe the rest of my time waiting for Luffy and the rest to rescue me won’t be that boring.

<< First Chapter / <Previous Chapter /

[rainsmediaradio]

NF - MAMA Lyrics

NF - MAMA Lyrics Intro Ooh-ooh, hey Ooh-ooh, wow-oh-oh Ooh-ooh, hey Ooh-ooh, wow-oh-oh Verse 1 Yeah, you ever make it up to the gate? And if you did, I wonder, is it a beautiful place? Did He put His arms around you, and make you feel like you're safe? Did He grab you by the hand and say that things are okay? I gotta know mama, did He show you some grace? Give you a pass and tell you He would carry the weight? Do you smile more? Wonder what it's like when you pray Is He standing in front of you so you could look at His face? When you talk to Him, does He talk back? You ever have conversations about what you regrеt? Or did it all go away once you got there? Doеs each breath Take you closer to God? Would you say that you cry less? Do you feel at peace yet? Do you laugh more? Do you feel like heaven is everything you could ask for? I ever make it up there, when I see you, I hope you're smiling 'Cause you deserve it, pray to God that you found joy And always know that Chorus You don't gotta cry, you don't gotta cry no more I hope you're up there looking down on us with a smile on your face You don't gotta cry, you don't gotta cry no more I hope you're up there with God feeling loved and set free from your pain Verse 2 Yeah, I look at the situation you had Mighta made a mistake of leaving, but it's makin' me sad Thinking of you, how you grew up tryna cope with your past Were you like me in your relationships and pushed away Dad? I gotta know, Mama, did you think you were trash? Something disposable, that nobody could love or be glad To say they was with you, that issue is a issue I have That's why it hurt me when Britney gave me those letters you sent I barely read any of 'em knowin' I'd let them go to my head And get to me, especially when I feel I related Might not be around for my babies, but know when I say that I love you, that I mean it okay? 'Cause nobody's perfect Yeah, I guess we all fall short And I can't hold this unforgiveness in my heart no more So just know you're Loveable to me, and of course You'll always be Mama to us, we'll save a table for four And know that Chorus You don't gotta cry, you don't gotta cry no more I hope you're up there looking down on us with a smile on your face (On your face) You don't gotta cry, You don't gotta cry no more (No more) I hope you're up there with God feeling loved and set free from your pain (Mama) You don't gotta cry, no Outro Yeah, I'm grown now Took me a while to see the bigger picture 'Cause if you were here today and I was talking with ya It'd be a lot of tears of joy falling on my sweatshirt Prolly followed by some apologies and "Mom, I missed ya" Yeah, I pray you see me down here looking up Still got a lot of things that I need healing from But I'll get there eventually, so don't you worry none I just hope you finally got some peace and you feel happy Mom, I love you Read the full article

[watermelonsugacry]

Writing Fine Line: Falling

A/N: Sorry that it's been forever since I updated with a new chapter but it's finally here! Also, please listen to this cover before or after reading! It's part of the story 😉

SUMMARY: YN and Harry have known each other since 2010 when they were put in a band together called One Direction. Since the band split up, YN and Harry have kept in close contact, may or may not have grown deeper feelings for one another and have continued to help each other create music. After having helped Harry with HS1, he has invited YN back again to Malibu to help make Fine Line. This was how Falling was made. (4.2K)

GENRE: harry x 1dbandmember!reader, friends to lovers, slow burn, 

WARNING: angsty, toxic relationship traits

side note: italicized is voice over commentary (I wrote this kind of like the Behind the Album documentary)

MASTERLIST Previous Song Here! ☎

If you asked what was one of YN’s favorite things about California, she’d say the heat. The weather always seems warm enough that even in the early hours of the morning it’s the perfect temperature for a swim. The sun is barely peeking its way through the clouds, stretching itself to come up to spread itself over the beach. 

When she resurfaces the water again, she welcomes the lack of waves. It’s quiet, serene. It’s a nice change from the constant noise of her thoughts running into each other at full speed. The sky's a soft orange and if she didn’t know any better, she’d think she was in a painting. One thing that YN will always admire and never get tired of is watching the sun rise. No matter what part of the world she's in, if there's a chance to wake up with the sun, she's all for it. 

It’s no secret that Harry likes to compare her to the sun: how she’s too bright for him, how she’s undeniably golden, lighting up his world and all that. For a long time, she never understood it. He’s full of flattery and she doesn’t recount a single day of knowing him that she wasn’t given a compliment from him in some way, shape or form.

You’re lucky you’re cute, lovie.

Oh, now what could I have possibly done to deserve that beautiful smile?

You look absolutely stunning. Y’blinding me, really.

It isn’t until now that she can see the similarities. Sure the sun’s golden and beautiful, but it's also a big ball of hot air. At first glance, someone can appear breath-taking, but when you take a deeper look, it’s a deception and full of exaggerated nonsense. 

After finishing up To Be So Lonely and with the added weight of Mitch’s word from the night before, sleep has gone out the window with a promise of no return. So after tossing and turning in her bed for a few hours, she finally gave into the fact that it was no use.

How can she relax, let alone fall asleep when she’s thinking about him? Worrying her head off about her feelings towards him. Wondering how he could sleeping right now. That he's probably peacefully in dreamland because he doesn't care. How she’s finally pushed him far away enough to keep his distance from her.

So to help clear her thoughts, before anyone else in the house even thinks about the day starting, she sought out to the salty waters of Southern California. 

...

YN finds herself sitting at the old piano in the rooms she’s been staying at in the Malibu home. It’s one of the bedrooms that has tall glass doors that lead directly towards the backyard-private beach area. She has them open constantly. It helps when she’s writing or needs a moment of fresh air.

She absentmindedly plays the piano, her fingers press down on the keys diligently as she tries to find a melody. She looks out into the space in front of her with a tilt of her head as she tries to get her thoughts together. It’s not long until her hands find one, repeating it over and over again until her hands linger for a moment, slowing down.

I'm on my bed, and you're not here.

She thinks back to that night at her house last week, not being able to sleep after sharing a quick kiss.

And there's no one to blame 

But the drink in your wandering hands. 

His bloodshot eyes and hiccups. It’s hard to distinguish if they were from him being drunk or from him crying in her arms.

Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

Please call me your baby again.

And I can't take it back

You can't unpack the baggage I left.

The two have such a long history already filled with confused, untimely emotions that how can she even think to unload her own history onto him?

What am I now? What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling

YN trails off, mindlessly pressing down the keys to the same melody. Isn't it the same with them? The same melody over and over again. Together, then not, then together again. An endless cycle of love and what ifs.

"That sounds beautiful."

YN sucks in a harsh breath, her hands immediately coming to her chest. “Bloody h—”

Harry playfully puts up his hands in defense. "Sorry, petal. Didn't mean to scare yeh."

“S’alright.” YN leans over and taps her phone screen to end her voice memo recording and lets the room grow quiet. The past two days have been off for the both of them. Ever since he wrote To Be So Lonely, the two have been unconsciously putting more and more space between them. After the haze of staying up so late to finish the song had worn off, it has now occurred to them what was written.

It isn’t she finally looks from her lap to her best friends that she notices that his hair is wet, clinging to his forehead and his torso is bare.

“You’re in a towel.” She mutters out dumbly.

“Yeah, just had a shower. Went out for a swim earlier.”

“I did, too.” She says, unconsciously twisting one of the rings of her fingers. “S’nice outside.”

“It is, yeah.” 

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. The awkward silence is suffocating the both of them, each mentally reaching for their necks to find some relief for this new, unwelcomed feeling.

Have they learned nothing? That these silences are overrated and clique and utterly not them.

“What was that?” Harry breaks the silence, carding a hand through his wet hair.

“What was what?”

Harry wordlessly nods over to the piano. A wave of panic washes over her. Did he hear what she was singing? Of course he would, she’s playing a piano in a relatively quiet house in the middle of the afternoon. 

“Just messing around s’all.” There’s a twinge in the back of his neck in knowing that she’s kept her answer short and to the point.

Shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other, he breathes out a, “Well I should eh, I should go get dressed.”

She just gives him a curt nod, not saying anything more as she sees him round the corner. She doesn’t turn back to face the piano and continues to write right away like she thought she would. Instead she just stares at the doorway he just walked through.

What happened to them? When did they ever run out of things to say? She's lost count of the times where they've stayed up to the late hours of the night—whether it be over call, text, facetime, or laying next to one another—literally talking about everything and anything they could possibly think of.

She misses the boy she met when she was 16, when things were relatively simple in the band, before ever pursuing each other. There was a sense of comfortability not being able to explore each other in their earlier years of knowing each other. The forced separation their management had on them made it easy to put the blame of their confused, suppressed feeling onto someone else.

But now there’s no one else to blame. They’re adults trying to navigate life with only themselves to cling onto. 

 Who was she without him in her life? Who was she? She doesn't even recognize herself anymore.

She can point the finger at Harry for not fighting hard enough for them to stay together, for his fear of commitment and bailing when things start to get too serious. For not sitting down at talking to her about where their relationship is headed. But she might as well look in a mirror and point the finger right back to herself.

Despite their flaws in their contributions to their romantic relationship, she can't help her heart straining, stretching and pulling every which way to be with him again.

She feels betrayed by her body as her vision begins to go blurry as the tears build up in her eyes. 

Even though there's no one else in the room, she's embarrassed to be seen this way and hides her face in her hands. Her shoulders shaking with a pathetic, muffled sob escaping past her lips.

Harry’s heart breaks into a million pieces right then and there as he leans back against the wall in the hallway. He wants to go in there, pull her into his arms and whisper in her ear that everything will be okay. But how can he say that when he doesn't even know that himself? 

“I had started to feel myself becoming someone I didn’t want to be, and that was really hard.” YN looks down at her lap and starts to fidget with her rings. She looks up for a bit to quickly blink back a few tears. “I was quite frightened as I started to think about how differently my life would be without certain people, without music or being with someone. And when I took those aspects away, I didn’t really know who I was...Sorry.” YN lets out a breathy chuckle as she wipes away a rogue tear rolling down her cheek. 

“Um, I guess this is my current ‘pathetic’ song in that it’s me kind of questioning myself of who I am without this person and just feeling...uncharacteristically desperate? Ugh, gross.” YN visually shudders her shoulders like a chill ran down her spine and chuckles in hopes to make light of her situation.

After spending the rest of the day in the studio recording and finishing up final details on To Be So Lonely, YN finds herself in one of the hammocks in the backyard that looks out to the ocean. She welcomes the silence again, focusing on the salty smell and breeze from the water.

Every now and then she’ll take sips of her tea in her favorite mug that she brought from home. It’s one Harry made when he took her to a little pottery shop where you can make your own mugs a couple years back. They wanted to make one themselves without the other looking and trade them at the end.

While she was determined to make the tallest and widest mug she could make (her edges and handle came out all wonky but he loved it all the same) her jaw was literally on the floor at his pink (and perfect) heart shaped mug.

It became her go-to mug for all of her hot beverages and she can’t shake off the comfort it brings her. So much so that she wakes up wondering where the sun went. The soft yellow lights in the backyard are on and when she rubs the sleep from her eyes, she notices the empty mug hugged close to her chest.

She walks into the kitchen and finds the production team all huddled around the kitchen island table.

“Woman of the hour!” Jeff smiles, making all the men join in the commotion. YN lets out a wolf whistle at how the men are dressed for a night out on the town.

“Don’t you all look tasty. What’s the occasion?” YN says as she puts her mug in the dishwasher. She almost feels guilty for being so underdressed standing next to them in a simple pair of high-waisted jean shorts, a white tank top and matching cardigan.

“We were thinking about going to check out a bar that Kid’s been telling us about." Tyler nods to the other producer. "Join us?”

It isn't until now that she notices a tall bottle of alcohol in the center of the table, a shot glass in everyone's hands as they pregame for the night. It's hard not to notice that her person isn't there. It's unlike him to not be amongst the group on a night like this. He's usually the one to be the talk of the group, refilling everyone's drink and easing the atmosphere like no one else can.

"Where's H?" 

There’s a beat of silence among the group, giving each other subtle glances which only makes YN raise an eyebrow. 

"Still in the studio.” Jeff reluctantly lets out. "He hasn't left in a while.” 

When Kid sees the way her shoulders tense up, he lets out a chuckle and adds, “He’s one of the hardest working artists I’ve ever worked with, I’ll tell you that. Such a perfectionist.”

YN doesn't suggest coaxing him out of the studio room or to just leave him be. Instead, she gives them her best soft smile—she's grateful for some things from her media training—and shakes her head.

“Y’guys go ahead. Think m’going to head off to bed now. Enjoy the night, yeah?” 

She internally lets out a sigh of relief as the men nod, not seeming to find anything suspicious, before giving her a hug. They all wish her a good night before filing out the door.

"Doesn't seem like he wants company right now." Mitch whispers when his arms are around her. 

"I didn't say anything about going to see him." YN defends herself but she knows she's caught when he lets out a deep sigh, not in frustration but in knowing her better.

"Y'so stubborn.” When he pulls back, his next words ring through her mind even after he’s gone out the door. 

“But we all know that if anyone is to get him, it’s you."

Walking into the kitchen, she fixes him a plate of the watermelon they cut yesterday without a second thought, knowing he must have not eaten since the morning. She doesn't know why she feels so nervous going to see him. He's her best friend and they’re just going through a rough patch. A confused, frayed patch over an even more confusing relationship.

She finds Harry in the recording room slouched over the piano, pressing down the keys with a furrow of his eyebrows. When she walks in a bit closer, she hears the familiar melody she came up with earlier today.

“Wha’re doing?” 

Harry looks up a little startled, too enraptured by the music he didn’t even notice she came to stand in front of the piano. 

He rubs a hand over his face, scratching the stubble on his jaw before sighing as he tries to think of something, anything to say other than the pathetic truth.

“Erm, just messing around. Trying some stuff out. S’nothing.”

“Nothing, huh?” YN sets down the plate on top of the piano. He slides over a bit to make room for her as she plops down the bench with him. As much as he tries to resist, he can’t take his eyes off of her profile. 

He watches the cream cardigan slip from her shoulder and catches a glimpse at the hummingbird tattoo on her shoulder blade. When she got it, she told him, “It's supposed to serve as a reminder to enjoy the simple pleasures in life and all tha’...Guess I did a shitty job at the placement because how the fook am I supposed to remember if I can’t see it.”

She shrugs her shoulders, matching his sigh. “Guess m’just gonna have to sue you for copyright then.”

Harry lets out a small chuckle, her voice unknowingly smoothing out the pinch and strain from his back. He tries not to focus too much on how their thighs are pressed together, taking everything in him not to reach out and take the hand in her lap to thread it with his. So he keep his occupied by grabbing a cube of fruit she brought him.

“What I hadn’t really experienced before during the making of this record,” Harry moves his hand out in front of him as he speaks, the infamous crease between his eyebrows makes its inevitable appearance. “The times when I felt good and happy were the happiest I’ve ever felt in my life. And the times when I felt sad were the lowest that I’ve ever felt in my life.

“S’just, your song kind of stuck with me earlier. Couldn’t get the melody out of my head.”

She tries not to show the panic rising in her face again. She instead looks down as her index finger presses down random keys in front of her. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I um, I hope you don’t mind but I kind of wrote a verse of my own.” Harry rubs the underside of this nose before lazily pointing to the lineless pieces of paper sitting at the little ledge above the keys, his scribbled out writing scattered all along the page. "Didn't get very far cause I'm shit at piano."

She smiles at his nervous chuckle. All day he's been missing his smile, the ones where his dimples dig into his cheeks and she gets to see his two front teeth bite down on his bottom lip.

YN wrings her hands out before placing them on the keys. It’s not long before the familiar melody sounds throughout the room. She keeps her eyes on her hands when she sings her lyrics, too nervous and hyper-aware that he’s burning holes at the side of her head.

She doesn’t dare breathe in his direction when she vents through her music. Other than being physically wrapped up in one another in the bedroom, this is her being her most intimate self. How can she look him in the eyes while she sings about his drinking incident earlier in the year? About what their most recent shared kiss did to her? About how much she wants him back?

What am I now? What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling

Keeping her eyes on the keys in front of her, she takes in a shaky breath before continuing. 

Are you falling out of love with me?

I'm afraid to ask what do you mean

I'm falling into you

I'm falling into you

Harry takes over as she continues to play, “You said you cared.”

“And I still care,” She echoes, finding the strength to look to her love.

“And you missed me too.” 

“I miss you,” She sighs and he watches his love’s eyes turn glossy.

“And I'm well aware I write too many songs about you,” YN finds it in her to let out a small, breathy laugh at his words. A small, sad smile softly tugs on the corners of his lips as well.

And the coffees out 

At the Beachwood Cafe

And it kills me cause I know we’ve run out of things could say

As they sing the chorus together, she’s finding that her feelings aren’t one sided, the good and the bad. It seems dumb to her now to think that he hadn't picked up on their lack of comfortable conversation or physical platonic touches. 

That he shares her same fears.

And I get the feeling that you’ll never need me again

They repeat the chorus together and there’s that familiar sense of having each other close again that just makes everything feel like it’s going to be okay again.

YN fingers slow down as she lets the last notes linger making the song come to its end. Their eyes flick back and forth from one another’s, eventually falling to their lips. They're close enough to feel their breath on one another’s skin and it makes them both dizzy, intoxicated, and overwhelmed. 

"I can't." Harry sees the way the tears escape her eyes, her nose and cheeks pink, and eyebrows utterly distraught. “I...I have to leave.”

In a blink of an eye, YN is up and out of her seat, making her way out of the recording room.

It takes a second for him to snap himself out of his thoughts and realize what she's doing. His panic and confusion rises up even further when he follows her down the hall and sees her grabbing her purse, the jingle of her keys in hand makes a chill run down his spine.

He tries to think of something, anything to get her from leaving. The words get stuck in his throat, mentally screaming himself to do something. He doesn’t think when he quickly puts himself between her and the door. “YN, please—”

“What do you want from me?” Her eyes search his with a fury behind them, her chest rising up and down at a fast pace. He has to admit that the volume in her voice made him shudder a bit. He understands why she would, all of this pent up frustration and whiplash was all going to inevitably lead to this.

“If I could take it back, I would.” Harry thinks that there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do to take away her pain, their shared hurt and confusion. His drunken mistakes, ever making her less than what she's worth. For ever making the tears escape her eyes.

“No, you wouldn’t.” YN snaps back. “Then you wouldn’t have a song to write about then, huh? To put on your album.” 

Harry takes a step back like she pushed him. “That’s real low."

“Is it? So y’going to tell me that not every single song that we’ve made so far hasn’t been about me? Like we didn’t just sing yet another song about us?” He doesn’t say anything, he can’t because he knows she’s right.  “How is this any different from Jamaica? 

“It's not. I knew I loved you then and—"

"And now?" She interrupts him, her eyes wide and searching for the answer she hopes for.

"And now...I..." I still love you, now more than ever before. "It’s complicated."

At least that’s one thing that’s been consistent throughout their relationship together, romantic or otherwise.

“Yeah, it is inn’t.” YN says, nodding her head and pressing her tongue against the inside of her cheek in hopes to sustain any more tears yet failing to keep them from spilling out. “Y’know what? S’fine.” 

She lifts her hands beside her head like she’s surrendering herself from the conversation. When she drops her hands to her side with a soft pat, he almost finds relief that they don’t have to argue anymore.

Almost. 

“I quit.”

And that has his heart dropping right down to the bottom of his stomach.

“Quit? W-what do you mean quit?”

“I can’t work for you. I can’t do this with you anymore, Harry. I really thought I could. I thought I could keep whatever’s between us professional but I was only kidding m’self."

"Please, please don’t go. I-I can't be alone—"

"Don't. Harry, do you not realize how suffocating this is?” YN waves her hands between them. “It-it feels like m’drowning. I can't keep going in this endless circle with you. First you want to be with me, but you get scared and pull yourself from the relationship. You say you’re my best friend but you treat me like we’re more. You have me sitting in that damn studio and listening to you sing songs about how much you adore me. S’like you’re taking advantage of me.”

“Don’t turn this all round on me!” She’s seen him angry a couple of times in the history of knowing him, but never has he ever been this cross with her, never has he raised his voice this loud at her. "You know damn well you do the exact same thing to me! Just admit it, you can't be without me just as I can't be without you."

"I, it's..." 

"Complicated?" She knows he's right, but it's times like now where she doesn't see how much in common the two have. Her massive ego doesn't want to agree with him but she has to...but not without her stubborn little attitude.

“Fine! You’re right, Harry. It is complicated, are you happy now? We’re fine, we’ll be alright. Just move.” YN makes headway towards the front door again since he’s moved out of her way. As she’s about to have her hand on the handle when he speaks up again.

“Yeah, we always are.” His tone is steady and low, almost calm but she knows he's anything but. It's dismissive and passive aggressive and it gets right under her skin.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

 “Don’t leave.” Harry finally huffs out. “Talk to me, yell at me. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.” He decides to push her further. Her silence is more deafening than her yelling and it’s eating him alive. "I know you still care about me. And that, and that you miss me. And maybe...you still have deeper feelings for me.” His voice almost goes into a whisper at the last part.

She wants to tell him a million things, but her head-strong self is nowhere to be found. She’s truly weak for him, truly a fool for the man in front of her.

When he’s met with her silence, he can't help but let out a dry laugh, raking his fingers through his hair. "You know I'll give you anything, do anything at the drop of a hat when you ask but, man, I can't stand you sometimes either."

"I shouldn't have come here." YN says so quietly that he might have missed it if he wasn't listening carefully.

"Yeah. Maybe you shouldn't have."

YN looks up at him with the most hurt expression he’s ever seen on her, clearly not expecting him to agree. She doesn't say anything more. 

She quickly and harshly wipes her wet checks before turning around and swinging the door open. The sound of the door slamming shut makes Harry jump and crumb every ounce of his self being. The weight of her leaving is heavy, crushing, that it has him falling to his knees and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Next song here! 🎺

taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolkloreore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel

[221bshrlocked]

Fever in my Eyes

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader

Words: 8.5K (yeesh)

Warnings: Smut and Angst, my two faves. Blindfold. Breeding Kink!!! Things are consensual from both sides but since this is a sex pollen fic, some of you might consider it as non/con so please proceed with caution.

Summary: Felucia was not an ideal planet to track a quarry on and you find yourself in a sticky situation when you lose sight of the Mandalorian for a moment. An unexpected standoff between Mando and the bounty leads to you escaping back to the Razor Crest, unaware of the pollen which seeped into your nostrils and past your skin. What will the bounty hunter do once he realizes what you’re asking of him? And more importantly, is it worth risking whatever relationship he has with you?

A/N: As always, I am shit with summaries. It’s a sex pollen fic yall. I apologize if my smut isn’t as good as it used to be, I am trying. Also, please please please let me know how I did in the comments. This is only my second ever Star Wars fic and I was very reluctant to post it but Pedro Pascal made me do it because I cannot stop thinking of the man so here it is. Seriously, tell me how I did and what I can do to better my writing. There will be more Din Djarin fics to come :) Enjoy. And this is not beta’d!

This was not an ideal situation, but it never was. At least not ever since you took the ‘glorified babysitter’ position offered so graciously to you months ago. A short snort made its way past your lips as you walked through the greenery and recalled how you came into caring for the child currently biting and playing with your necklace. You looked down and smiled at him, not bothering to stop him from chewing down on the colorful jewels because you knew for a fact that if Mando heard you criticizing him over something so trivial, he might scold him and make him pout. Maker, the little womp rat made it so hard to be angry with him, let alone attempt to teach him some proper manners. 

So busy playing with the Child, you didn’t notice when the bounty hunter suddenly came to a halt ahead of you. You walked right into his back and stumbled backwards, apologizing immediately when he turned around and tilted his visor to the side. You’ve grown to learn what each tild meant and at the moment, he was definitely a tad bit annoyed with you. 

“S-sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Smiling awkwardly at the man in front of you, you waited until he turned around before narrowing your eyes at the kid currently giggling at your mistake. It was amazing how often he did that, almost as if he knew he was purposely getting you in trouble for his own entertainment. 

“So you never actually told me why this bounty was so important,” your eyes searched your surroundings and marveled at the lush reaching all the way to the top of the strange trees, barely noticing the way the Mandalorian’s shoulders tensed before continuing to walk towards the edge of the forest. If there even was an edge to this jungle. Maker, this was such a weird planet, it smelled weird, it was too hot and too wet, and you sensed there was something strange with all the exotic plants beneath your feet.

When he didn’t respond, you slowly put the Child down and reached inside your satchel for a drink. As soon as the kid noticed the satchel, he waddled back to you and pulled on your cloak until you brought out his favorite blue biscuits. 

“All I’m saying is, this bounty is weird. Who hides all the way out here anyways? I mean I have never heard of this place-”

“You’ve said that about the last four quarries.” You didn’t expect him to respond and eyed him cautiously, looking between him and the kid who continued to eat his snacks and understood absolutely nothing of what you were saying. A shiver ran down your spine when you noticed the way he put the tracking fob back in his pocket before slowly reaching for the blaster pistol. Reflexes instantly kicking in, you hurried to the Child and snatched him off the ground, shushing his little coos and preparing for the worst case scenario which was always, somehow, what transpired.

Silence filled the humid air and you tried to read the bounty hunter’s body language, knowing very well he was not one to say anything unless it was perhaps a little too late for you. His visor dragged through the dried prints on the grass and before you knew it, he was taking off towards the edge of the purple and pink plants. As you followed him, you felt your throat dry much quicker than usual. Thinking it was just the extreme weather of Felucia, you decided it was best to slow down and wait until the Mandalorian caught the bounty before following his path. He’d even told you once to not follow him if you ever saw him running off because that usually meant he was close to the quarry and wouldn’t need your aid. It was a little insulting in the beginning but you were caught during a shoot-out one too many times and understood he was only trying to look out for you and the kid. 

But not even a full minute passed before you heard a sudden blast sound off from the trees above you and before you could figure out what was happening, a heavy weight landed on top of you, and you watched in horror as the kid flew out of your hand into a nearby puddle. 

Trying your hardest to grab the blaster on your hip, you cried out in pain when you felt talons digging into your arms and twist them back. You didn’t know what else to do, eyes scanning the trees in hopes of finding the Mandalorian rushing towards you. But when you realized he was nowhere around, you looked at the kid and prayed he was alright. When you saw his large eyes blinking a few times before struggling to sit up, you knew there was only one outcome. 

“Make a sound, and I will feast on your organs.” The stench of the creature filled your nostrils and you sobbed quietly at the implications behind his words. Taking one last look at the kid, you took a deep breath and pushed off the ground as hard as you can.

“MANDO!” As soon as you screamed his name, you felt three talons break the skin of your shoulder blades and drag all the way down to your lower back. You felt hot tears roll down your cheeks and hated how distressed the Child looked. Almost on queue, he was standing up and trying to waddle your way, refusing to listen to your little objections as you tried to tell him to run the opposite direction. 

Before you could dwell on the many different ways you were about to die, you heard a large blast sound through the forest, throwing the creature off of you against one of the trees with a loud cracking noise. You looked up just in time to see the familiar glint of beskar coming closer through the greenery and as you tried to stand up, you felt the same weight behind you again, twisting the talons into your hair and pulling you to your feet. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat when you felt the edge of the hunting knife against your throat. Eyes unable to focus on the figures in front of you, you blinked a few times and realized there were too many sensations hitting you. But the one seemingly outdoing all the others was the growing wet patch on your back and you soon felt sharp pain growing against your skin where the strange liquid rolled down your skin. You weren’t sure if it was blood or if it was drool from the thing behind you and a part of you didn’t care because what difference would it make. 

“Should have known you were the only crazy one to come here...come after me.” A slithering whisper made its way past your ears and your knees buckled as you started to feel faint. But then the creature held you up roughly and pressed the knife harder against your throat, warning you against falling to the ground.

“Your problem is with me T'doshok. Let her go.” You vaguely saw the Child walk towards his father, relief washing over you when you knew he was safe once more. At some point, you’ve come to care more for him than for yourself and you were never sure if it was because he was so precious or because of how important he was to the Mandalorian. 

“Aren’t we past formalities Mando? At least do me the honor of saying my name...old friend.” 

Your gaze immediately shifted from the kid to the beskar-clad man standing in front of him. So they knew each other? Why didn’t he tell you? Did he still not trust you to know such matters until now?

“ Ni Kelir kyr'amur gar meh gar vaabir not ba'slanar kaysh.” You heard the Mandalorian growl through the visor and even though you didn’t understand what he said, you knew it was anything but friendly. Wait, that meant the T'doshok behind you understood Manod’a. 

A sob escaped your throat when you felt the bounty laugh behind you at the warning. 

“You can’t possibly mean that Mando.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was a hint of surprise etched in the voice growling in your ear.

“Ni vaabir not baatir te waadas...believe me.” The conscious part of your brain wondered why he continued to speak in Mando’a. He knew you didn’t understand much of it…

The silence was almost deafening and you weren’t sure what was happening until your boss stepped forward and tilted his helmet to the side,

“Gedet'ye.” The modulated voice sounded strange to your ears. He was only ever this softly-spoken with the Child.

“Well, this is unexpected. In that case-” You didn’t have time to react, watching as the world twirled around you before you fell among the purple and pink flowers you were so impressed by earlier. A strange scent hit your nostrils but you couldn’t dwell on it for more than a few seconds. Willing yourself to stand up, you pushed off the ground as soon as you saw the kid waddling towards you. As soon as he tried to walk behind you, you knew what he was trying to do and picked him up before he could do anything.

“No little guy...you- I can’t...I need to make sure you’re okay.” You could faintly hear the sound of blasters going off for a few moments and by the time you managed to take the gun out of your holster, you saw the Mandalorian standing above an unconscious reptilian creature. So that’s what a T'doshok is…

Slowly making your way towards them, you blinked away the tears and wiped your eyes to try and clear your sight. 

“Ad'ika, are you alright?” You shivered at the tone Mando was using with you. Dank Ferrik, you must have hit your head pretty hard if you thought the Mandalorian was worried about anyone but the green little thing in your arms.

“I- yes. I’ll be f-fine. Just-” You hadn’t meant to react the way you have but as soon as you felt his gloved hand touch your neck, you jerked away from him and held out your hand to stop him from coming any closer to you. Mando was shocked at your reaction and was glad to have something to hide behind. A few seconds passed in silence and you were still staring at him with wide open eyes and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were afraid of him. It occurred to him that it wasn’t shock that beat at his heart but a deep and twisting sense of hurt. And when he scanned your body language, he could tell you were trembling in front of him and the last thing he wanted to do was to give you another reason to fear him.

“Can you walk back to the-”

“Yes. I’ll- fu...I’ll take the kid.” Before he could say anything else, you were clutching the Child closer to your chest and walking back to the Razor Crest. You searched your mind to try and understand why you reacted the way you have to his touch but couldn’t find anything to explain the sharp pain striking through your insides. It was too much too quickly. Even though it wasn’t his skin, you felt neurons firing simultaneously as soon as he trailed his fingers down your neck. You hoped to the gods he wasn’t offended by your reaction because the last thing you needed was to drive him further away from you.

Barely making it back to the ship, you managed to go up the ladder and put the Child back in his crib in the cockpit before shutting it and locking the door behind you. Scrambling inside your mind for a moment, you turned to the ramp and walked towards the hatch before pushing in the code until it sealed shut. 

In an instant, everything touching your skin was too rough and incredibly heavy. Before you could think twice about it, you were violently stripping out of your clothes, throwing them to the ground on your way to the refresher. As soon as you walked into the small room, you turned on the cold water and sighed heavily as it beat down on your heated skin. 

“Not enough…” Crying to the empty room, you made sure the hot water wasn’t on before leaning back against the cool tiles of the walls. But no sooner than that were you hissing and pushing off of the wall. You completely forgot about the open gashes on your back and the shooting pain was almost instantaneous when you remembered just how large the wound was.

As you dwelled on the last hour or so, you felt your legs give out on you and before you knew it, you were sliding down to the floor. Eyes shutting slowly, you fell to the side and let the cold water run down your form. And as hard as you tried to stay awake, you couldn’t help your mind’s request as it begged to rest. You let sleep wash over you, the last sound ringing in your ear was Mando’s worried voice asking if you were okay.

Back outside, the bounty hunter was fuming with anger, not caring about how oddly violent he became with the quarry. He was never one to beat an unconscious being but something took over him when he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks. As he pushed his way through the forest, he thought back to the way you looked up at him with those innocent eyes. And he hated himself for the way his body reacted to your fragile body.

“Ni’duraa.” He whispered to himself when he saw the Crest come into view, continuing to pull the T'doshok until he walked up the ramp and onto the ship. It was awfully quiet but he decided to freeze the reptile before he walked around to look for you. Minutes later, he was ascending the ladder to the cockpit, unlocking it and reaching for the crib on his pilot chair. When he opened it and saw the kid cooing in his sleep, he shut it once more and left to look for you. It was strange how he couldn’t hear a single sound. You were normally talkative after a mission, and as he placed his weapons back on the wall, he noticed your clothes lying haphazardly on the ground. Mando sighed heavily as he picked them up, flushing violently when he saw the last two items leading into the refresher. Strange, you were never one to throw things around.

Not wanting to bother you anymore, he placed the clothes on your cot and ascended to the cockpit once more, wanting to leave Felucia as quickly as possible because he knew how the locals became when uninvited guests stayed for too long. As they left the sector, the Mandalorian couldn’t help but question why you were still in the refresher. You’d arrived long before him and it took him a while to navigate through the jungle because of how heavy the bounty was. 

Putting the ship on auto-pilot, he made his way to the refresher but not before noticing a strange scent fill his nostrils. Looking down at his hands, he noticed a bright purple powder covering his gloves and as soon as he brought his hands up to the edge of the visor, he was hit with many different sensations, all of which he could distinctively place back to you. Your honey-scented soap, the orange tea he saw you constantly drinking, the smell of your sweat on a particularly hot day when you tried to fix the ship...

“Fuck…” He swore before wiping his gloves against his cloak and approached the refresher. 

Knocking on the door, he waited a few moments for a response and breathed impatiently when  you didn’t bother to say anything.

“Open up, Cyar'ika.” He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly using such endearing words to call for you and when he was met with more silence, he groaned in annoyance before warning you. “If you don’t open the door now, I will break it.” Normally, you would have clapped back with a snarky comment that would get his blood boiling but he knew something was wrong when you remained quiet. Throwing propriety out the window, he kicked the door open and walked in, eyes searching the small room until they fell on your unconscious form under the water. 

“Maker,” kneeling to the ground, his heart clenched when he saw a viscous, black liquid oozing out of the gash on your back. How did he not notice this when you left? Quickly reaching for the left knob, he swore when he noticed the hot water wasn’t even on and almost broke the other one as he tried to switch it off. Why would you take such a cold shower when you weren’t even on a desert planet? Wiping your hair away from your face, the Mandalorian tried to wake you and began to feel anxiety seep into his clothes along with the water cascading down your body when he realized this was much worse than he thought. He took off his gloves and pushed you onto your back, trying his hardest to avert his gaze from your naked skin as he bent down and carried you out of the refresher. 

Opening his quarters, he laid you on his covers before grabbing the anesthetic above him and turning you on your stomach to care for the wounds. As he sprayed your back, he noticed the way you groaned in your sleep and forced himself to attend to the task at hand. He hoped to the gods there wasn’t any poison in the wound before he grabbed the bacta spray and slowly made his way down the skin of your back. He sighed in relief when he noticed your skin slowly shifting and sealing itself, trying to calm his increasing heart rate when he remembered just how fragile and naked you were beneath him. Some sick part of him was attracted to you even in such a state and he wished more than anything for you to be awake and willing to-

This is not how he pictured seeing you for the first time.

When you started shifting beneath him, he kneeled away from you and covered your legs, continuing to care for the wound on your lower back until it started to close as well. By the time he put all the medication back in its place, you were turning around and moaning in discomfort and Mando realized it was because you were probably still freezing from the cold water. Taking off his cloak, he barely draped it on your sleeping form when you pushed it off and turned on your back. He felt the fabric of his pants tighten around his crotch and looked away from you.

“Please...too- too much. I can’t-” He couldn’t understand what you were trying to say and moved to place the cloak on you again, head instantly turning to your face when you smacked the offensive object away from him and began to trail your fingers down your skin. He hadn’t meant to and before he could stop himself, he was watching as your fingers made their way down to your hips before dipping into the space between your thighs.

Maker be damned, how were you so glistening and flushed?

“M-Mando?” His eyes snapped to your face and watched as you spread your legs until he positioned between them. “Mando I need...you. I need you please, this is- it hurts. I can’t...it hurts so much. Please h-help me.” Your voice was filled with dangerous requests, and he felt his cock twitch in his pants when he saw the way you reached for his thighs and dragged your nails down to his knees. 

“Cyare, you don’t know what you’re asking.” He forced himself to keep his gaze on your face and nowhere else. But with every passing moment, the need to look at where he’d dreamt of feasting on for so many nights outgrew his respect for you. 

“Mando...I want you, n-need you...please, I promise I’ll be good. So so good for you, just- oh maker I-”

The small part of his brain that wasn’t ruled by his pulsing cock finally figured out what was happening and he growled as he pushed off of you and out to your cot. Grabbing your shirt, he turned it around and saw the same purple powder that was on his gloves coloring the whole front of your cloak. He recalled back to what happened when he left you and remembered where the T'doshok pushed you before he attacked him. 

Of course. The pollen from the spore plants.

Which meant that-

“Oh fuck.” The Mandalorian felt his insides churn when he realized what was taking place not ten feet away from him, and he felt his heart skip a beat when he knew what could potentially happen to you if your...needs weren't properly met. With reluctance, he made his way back to his sleeping cot and felt his chest tighten when he saw what you were doing.

You were on your side, fingers rubbing furiously at your soaking core and whimpering at the consistent and harsh touches passing through your nerves. But it wasn’t the mess you were making that caught his attention. No, it was the fact that you had his cowl twisted between your thighs and around your back. He watched in awe as you pushed your face into the rough material, taking in deep breaths to try and fill your nostrils with his scent. Taking one step closer to you, his eyes bore into your heated skin and he choked on air when he saw you lick at the hood of the cloak before taking your fingers out of your cunt and replacing them with his cowl. He couldn’t believe his eyes and the thought of wearing it around with your scent sticking to it broke him. 

Mando looked around the ship for a few moments in an attempt to think of what he should do. Swallowing the dry lump in his throat, he approached your slowly and gasped when he met your eyes and saw the way you were looking at him.

“M-mando! Please...fuck me. I- I need you to...don’t c-care how. I promise I’ll do anything, wh-whatever you want...ple-please.” Chills ran down your spine when you forced yourself to throw the cowl away. Turning around, you laid on your stomach and took a deep breath before raising your lower half off of the covers. As you rested your head on your arm and bit into your wrist, you looked back to the beskar-clad man, silently pleading with him while swaying your ass in the air. 

“Gota'la…” Before the Mandalorian could talk himself out of it, he was kicking his heavy shoes away and making his way closer to you. A part of him screamed that of the two of you, he was the one less affected by the pollen and was technically responsible for whatever transpired next. And he was close to asking you if you were sure you wanted to take this further if it weren’t for the way you reached beneath you and faintly trailed your fingers through your soaking slit. 

“Ad'ika, gar cuyir mesh'la.” He was speaking to himself more than to you and smiled to himself when he noticed your cunt clenching around nothing as soon as his words filled the silence. “Sweet girl, you like it when I speak to you in Mando’a?” You shivered at his tone and found it difficult to respond to him, especially when you could tell he was definitely not looking at you but at the mess you were making on his bed. A loud cry rang through the small room when you felt his hand come down on your backside before squeezing the flushed skin. 

“I asked you a question Cyar'ika.” His deep and modulated voice only made it worse and you found yourself nodding at him before whispering out a low ‘yes.’

“K'olar,” you squealed when you felt Mando twirl your around onto your back before pulling your naked body flush to his still-clothed one. You were about to beg him to just fuck you already when he shoved two of his fingers into your mouth to shush you. You moaned shamelessly around his fingers, whining even louder when you realized you were sucking on his calloused skin and not on the gloves he almost never took off unless he was alone. 

“You’re going to come just like this sweet girl.” Mando manhandled you until you were straddling one of his thighs, growling impatiently when you tried to push yourself away from him. His arm tightened around your waist, pushing you down on the beskar cuisse until you finally understood what he wanted from you.

“C-cold…”

“Be a good girl and drench my armor little one. Let me walk around with the memory of your cunt dripping on me.” His words hit too close to your somewhat aware mind and you chose to dwell on their meaning later. Softly inching your hands onto his shoulders, you fisted your fingers into his shirt to support your weight before dragging yourself against the rugged and cool beskar in between your thighs. As you threw your head back and sighed in pleasure, Mando couldn’t help but squeeze the heated skin of your hip, knowing very well there would soon be fingerprint marks wherever he touched you. 

“That’s it...could smell how much you want me Cyare. Can’t believe you’re in my arms...look at you, using my thighs to get off.” You barely managed to turn your attention to him, lips still enclosed around his fingers and biting down on them the more he shoved them in your mouth.

“Mando I- I need to-” Before you could finish your request, Mando was wrapping the other arm around hips and violently dragging you against his cuisse, looking down to watch as your juices dripped on his beskar armor. 

“What a sight…” He groaned and turned his gaze towards you again just in time to watch you fall apart on him. He marveled at how quickly he brought you to pleasure and figured it must have been the pollen making you extra sensitive to his ministrations. Wanting to stretch out your pleasure for as long as possible, he threw you back onto his bed and pushed your thighs open, not giving you a chance to question him as he shoved two fingers into your cunt and massaged that spongy spot deep inside you. You arched your back and grasped at his arms, barely managing to look at the visor just as he increased pressure and fucked you with his fingers. 

“M-MANdo oh g-gods-”

“Scream my name sweet girl, and only my name.” Had you actually listened to what he said, you would have sassed back at him and told him you didn’t actually know his name. But you couldn’t care less at the moment, digging your fingers into his forearms as you came around his thick fingers, repeatedly praying his “name” until you couldn’t remember anything else.

“Mesh'la...you’re so tight and warm for me...that’s it, squeeze my fingers like the good little girl you are.” Mando watched as you came around his fingers, his eyes not knowing where to look and wishing he could taste the sweat sticking on your neck as you whimpered beneath him. 

He heard it before he felt it, moaning in blind lust as he took in the sight beneath him. Your legs shook violently as you, quite literally, drenched his thighs and blankets with your cum and Mando didn’t know if he wanted to lick you dry or stuff his nose into your pulsating cunt. 

“Sweet fucking darling, look at the mess you’ve made,” you shivered when you felt his fingers leave your slit, blinking hazily and turning to look at where he was staring. When you saw what he was referring to, you quickly covered yourself and tried to move away from him, embarrassment washing over you when you saw the way he was so obviously staring at the wetness dripping down your. But Mando was much quicker than you, grabbing your thighs and pushing them wide open again before laying in between them and dragging his crotch across your sensitive clit. 

“Never hide from me,” you nodded instantly and the Mandalorian would never admit feeling his chest fill with pride at the lust-filled fear he instilled into you with only a few words. Your chest heaved as you continued to look into the visor, almost whimpering when you were met with incredibly dazed eyes and messy hair staring right back at you. It was quiet for a few moments, the only proof that Mando was very much aware of your state being the hardness twitching against your sensitive cunt. 

Mando wasn’t sure what to do with you. He wanted to simultaneously fuck you into the next system and lick every inch of you until you couldn’t take it anymore. “I can smell your cunt Ad'ika...can almost taste your neediness.”

“Ma-mando I- I want you to r-” You felt so naked beneath him, wishing he’d at least take off his clothes before this went any further. Not a single care was given to his helmet and it was out of the question to even attempt and ask him if he could take it off. You just wanted to feel his skin sliding against yours as he fucked you. Nothing else mattered. Just his scarred and sweaty muscles contracting and trailing over your own. 

“What is it sweet girl?” His voice felt like a thousand needles piercing your soul and you didn’t realize where your hands were moving until you felt him roughly grab your wrists and slam them above your head. You could tell there was a shift in the air around you and ceased to breathe when you no longer heard his moans. 

“This is the way.” Those four words hurt you more than they should have. 

“I- I would never ask you to...I swear I just wanted- I wanted to touch you. Not take it off...please I-” Mando felt his heart shatter into a million pieces because somehow, even in your most inebriated state, you respected him. You put him before yourself. And he ceased to breathe when he sat up and watched as you grabbed at his arms and refused to let go.

“N-no don’t go...I need you- d-don’t leave me pl-” Your breathing was erratic and the Mandalorian feared you’d spiral into shock. Without thinking much of his next moves, he grabbed the nearest item of clothing and ripped a small piece of it, returning to rest between your knees and not giving you a choice as he wrapped the band around your eyes and tied it in the back. You trailed your fingers over the band and pulled away instantly when you felt his the hair on his wrist. 

“I’m sorry…” Mando thought of your actions so far and knew in his heart that if there was ever another who’d look upon him, it would be you. Softly taking your hands in his, he pulled them towards his helmet and rested them at the side.

“T-take it off.”

“I can’t...Mando, you don’t have to- I swear I was only-” As hard as it was to say those words, you wanted him to know that he owed you nothing. And you hated how selfish you were being in that moment because the man was trying to tell you something and you were only worrying about yourself and how much your cunt ached for him. You were so close to pushing him on his back and taking your pleasure from him but something told you it would be worth the wait. 

“Mesh'la, I want you to.” You always marveled at how much the Mandalorian could convey in only a few words and shouldn’t have been surprised when you felt just how much he was willing to put his trust in you. Not wanting to scare him, you slowly pulled on the visor until it was completely off, remaining motionless as he took it from your hands and placed it on the floor. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do with your hands so you kept them to the side, fisting your fingers into the blankets to prevent you from reaching out and touching his face. 

Mando could tell you wanted to touch him. You even told him yourself. So he made the decision for you and leaned down, passing his lips over your forehead and smiling down at you when he heard you suck in a breath. You gasped when you felt his beard tickle your cheeks. He had a beard. Of course he had a beard. But as he continued to leave kisses over your face, you realized it wasn’t really a full-grown beard. It didn’t matter in the end because he was driving you insane with every small pass of his plump lips near where you wanted him.

As he finally molded his lips with yours, you felt him pull your hands up to his face and lay them on his cheeks, the groan escaping his throat letting you know he enjoyed you touching him as much as you, perhaps even more. The kiss grew frantic the more you explored his naked skin, and you couldn’t hold back the long moan that erupted into his mouth as soon as you felt him suck on your tongue. When you pulled on his soft hair, Mando couldn’t help but growl into the heated kiss, not caring for how rough he was being as he grabbed and squeezed your thighs. 

But the kiss was over as soon as it began and you whined after him when you felt him pull away from you. You felt your fingers ascend to your face but remembered why the Mandalorian blindfolded you in the first place. Not wanting to lose his trust, you pushed your arms beneath your back to prevent any temptations from taking place. Unbeknownst to you, Mando was watching every little muscle twitch on your nude form and he almost devoured you right then and there when he saw you quickly moving your fingers from your face. 

He was amazed by how caring you were even when you didn’t hold any proper level of the right consciousness. Anyone else would have removed the cloth and blamed the pollen. But not you. 

You were special. 

Refusing to waste any more time, Mando made quick work of the beskar armor, not caring about the mess he was making just outside his room. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, smiling when he noticed you shivering beneath his gaze. He was on you as soon as he deposited his long-sleeve and pants, devouring your mouth and digging his fingers into your waist as he rutted against you. 

“Ner-” 

The possessiveness was almost palpable and he surprised even himself at the single syllable. Since when was he like this?

“Mando,” you whispered his name as you wrapped your arms around his back and pulled him flush against you, sighing in relief when you felt the hair of his chest tickle your nipples. Mando noticed your reaction and instantly descended on your heaving chest, biting and licking and pinching at the hardened buds until you begged him to slow down.

“Ni'm liser't...taylir norac. You’re so fucking delicious.” The way he effortlessly switched between his mother tongue and Basic shouldn’t have turned you on this much and yet you were. 

“Fuck me.” Your words were dripping with desperation and the Mandalorian wasn’t able to hold any longer. He wanted to take his time with you, commit every little curve to memory. Memorize what made your breath hitch and what made you sigh. 

But the request ended all of his curiosity and before you knew it, you felt him roughly pull down on his boxer briefs. You flushed when you heard the sound of his hand jerking his cock, mouth falling wide open when it jutted at your inner thighs and you felt how fucking hard and thick it was. 

“What will it be sweet girl? You want me to make love to you,” he paused for a moment and took advantage of your distracted expression, rubbing the head of his cock against your wet slit and biting his lips when he felt you arch against him at the simple yet filthy movement. “Or fuck you like I own you…like you’re mine.”

Hearing him say ‘fuck’ in such a vulgar tone did it for you and you didn’t know what to do with yourself except widen your legs more for him and grab the bed sheets beneath you.

“F-fuck me like you own me Mando...ruin me. Take what you want and- oh maker you’re so- so...fu- please, u-use me however you want. Just- I need your cock. Need to cum on your cock...can’t wait anym-”

Mando was sure he broke you with his words, watching in awe as you begged and begged until you couldn’t breathe anymore. There was no warning, no asking if you were ready for him. There was just your wet cunt teasing him until he couldn’t bear the thought of not being deep inside your pussy.

Resting his head against yours, he took his painfully hard cock in his hand and shoved it past your wet lips, letting out a deep growl as he felt you scratch his back.

“Mando, Mando, M-mando…”

You didn’t find the strength to think of a proper sentence to express what you were feeling so you opted to pray his name over and over again. He was shaking above you and you knew instantly he was trying his hardest not to break you.

“Take what you want- I...I won’t break.” 

Just hearing you say those words to him almost made him cum right then and there. You were returning the trust he gave you and he knew there was no way of putting this moment behind him even if he tried. 

Pulling out until only the head of his cock was splitting you open, Mando bucked his hips violently back into you, whispering the filthiest promises into your ears as he set a rough pace that had you seeing worlds you didn’t even know existed. 

“So, fucking, tight...how are you so wet and tight for me Cyare?” It took you a while to realize you were hearing his voice without the modulator of his mask. How had you not noticed how beautifully sinful it was when he first took it off? You wanted to tell him how much you loved hearing his thick and smooth voice. You wanted to kiss down his neck and bite onto his shoulders. You wanted to push him down and force his cock inside your throat. 

So much. You wanted so much. 

But you couldn’t find your voice in that moment. Not when he was railing into you with such an unforgiving force. 

“Made for me...made to take my cock. Such a sweet fucking girl- ah.” You should have known Mando would not be the quiet type in bed. He was a man of few words during his day-to-day life so of course he would take this chance and spill out his innermost thoughts. But it surprised you nonetheless considering how downright dirty his moans and whispers were. And you were sure he was as filthy, if not more, when he continued to speak in Mando’a. 

With every passing moment, you felt a piece of your heart split from your chest and slowly make its way into his hands. He was branding you, his cock reaching so deep inside you that you were sure you could feel him right below your navel if you only moved your hands against your skin. But you couldn’t afford to let go of him, not when he was using you just as you requested. 

“Mando you...maker, you’re filling me so- so good. I- please, can I cum? I want t- to cum. Been so good for you. Need to-” The chuckle that left his lips was sweet music to your ears until you realized he might be laughing at how pathetic you were. 

“Fucking gods Ad'ika...fill you up? Is that what you want sweet girl? You want me to- fuck, fuck...want me to fill you up with my cum? You’re killing me baby.” His voice was hoarse and he realized his mistake as soon as the words left his lips. The last thing he wanted was to scare you away from him. It was his deeped, darkest secret. He swore he would go to his grave with it. Too often he thought of breeding you, fucking you and fill you up until his cum leaked out of you and you couldn’t move. Too many nights he went to sleep thinking of what it would feel like to wake up with your sweet cunt still wrapped around his cock. What he’d give to ensure not a single drop went to waste. 

Too many days were spent dreaming of giving that little womp rat a sibling to run around with. 

Your silence didn’t go unnoticed by him and he was about to slow down when he felt your hands grab his ass and push you closer to him.

“Want your cum Mando...want you to cum inside me, fill me up until I can’t breathe...oh fuck, until I can’t feel anything but your cum hot and deep inside me. Fuck a baby inside me Mando I- oh oh gods I-” Mando couldn’t hold back anymore, violently pushing his cock inside you and swallowing your moans every time they echoed just a little louder than he preferred. He groaned in ecstasy when he looked down and saw pure bliss etched on your soft features. You clenched around him, thighs vibrating around his hips as he somehow drove into you harder and carried you past the point of pleasure. You didn’t know you were coming around him until you heard him whisper ‘good girl’ in your ears. And it sent a jolt down his spine when he continued to rut against you and fill the ship with the heavy sounds of skin slapping on skin. It was almost painful, the way he didn’t let up and continued to rail into you without a single care. 

“Mine...mine, fucking mine. That’s it sweet girl, feel me. Feel me marking your fucking soul.” He was a mumbling mess at this point and he wasn’t sure if it was because you were panting like an animal in heat or because of the way you desperately licked and kissed and nipped at his neck and lips. 

“Yes, I’m yours Mando. Yours...always have been.”

The heaviness of your words struck his heart instantly, and he shoved his cock so deep inside you he swore he could feel your heartbeat. Mando rested his head in the crook of your neck, biting harder than intended on your shoulder as hot spurts of cum coated your inner walls. You feel a sudden warmth wash over you and dug your nails into his ass as he thrust once, twice, three times before stilling completely. 

The two of you continued to breathe heavily against each other and when Mando moved his knees to get comfortable between your thighs, you unintentionally squeezed his cock and felt him twitch inside you.

“Ni chaabar gar, cyar'ika.” It was such a silent comment and you knew this was much different than everything he’d said thus far. Something about his tone told you he was spilling his heart out and you wished more than anything to ask him what he was saying but knew you shouldn’t...wouldn’t. Not unless you wanted him to continue and speak to you.

You were brought back from your thoughts when the Mandalorian kissed your lips, and you felt yourself drowning in his scent when he rubbed your hair and nudged your jaw with his nose.

“Gar cuyir too jaon'yc at ni. Ni liser't nibral gar.” Slowly, Mando wrapped his arms around you and rolled you over until you were practically sleeping on top of him. The two of you hissed when you felt his cock leave your heat and Mando wished more than anything to spread your thighs and watch as his cum leaked down your thighs. No worries, he’d do that later.

Later…

Oh what he would give for there to be a ‘later’ with you. 

The thought of not being able to have you again snapped him back to reality and he realized there was a very high chance this would never happen again because as far as he knew, this was only a consequence of the pollen.

Not wanting to bother you with his insecurities, Mando pushed your head down onto his chest and rubbed your shoulders, telling you to get some rest and to not worry about anything else. 

Hours later, Mando was waking up to a soft noise emitting from beneath him. As he rubbed his eyes and took in his surroundings, he looked down and noticed you were still very much naked and cold next to him. Pulling the covers over you, he allowed his eyes to feed on your curves before meeting your face. Dread filled his heart as soon as he saw the wet patch on the band around your eyes. 

You must have woken up and realized what happened. A thousand different scenarios flew through his mind and Mando knew that almost each one of them was caused by your regret of sleeping with him. 

“Ad'ika, are you alright?” When you didn’t respond and sniffed loudly, Mando knew he had to brace for the worst. 

“Please...are you hurt anywhere?” Hearing his pleas was what did it for you and you threw yourself into his chest. 

“Mando I- I took advantage of you. I’m so sorry, I- I didn’t know what was happening...I promise I- please don’t tell me to leave. I can’t leave you or the Child. I- I promise I’ll pretend this never happened. Just- don’t leave me. I can’t bear the thought of living without you...without him.”

Of all the things the Mandalorian thought he would hear from you, those were certainly the last to make the list. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky with you? Not only did you refuse to take the blindfold off when you woke up but you genuinely thought you’d forced him into sleeping with you.

“Cyare, it hurts to see you cry. Come here.” Mando sat up against the cold metal wall, pulling you into his lap and wrapping the covers around you so you weren’t exposed to the cold air of the ship. 

“You didn’t take advantage of me sweet girl. If anything, I- I should be the one apologizing. I was not hit with the effects of the pollen as much as you have been and...and I should have refused your pleas. But you looked so beautiful, Cyar'ika. You prayed for me to have you and I- I was selfish. I was selfish and I couldn’t stop myself from sinking into you. Branding you. Being with you.” To say you were surprised by his words would have been the understatement of the century. 

The Mandalorian wanted you. He wanted to have you. He wanted to be with you. 

“I-I’ve wanted you for so long...spent so many nights dreaming of being with you.” You confessed to him before you could think of the meaning behind your words and you were met with a deep sigh and a kiss on the lips almost immediately. 

“How long Mesh'la?” 

“S-since Tatooine.” 

Mando’s heart skipped a beat at the short yet direct response. He’s only ever been to Tatooine once with you, months and months ago when he needed Peli to fix something on the Crest for him. You hadn’t even been with their group for three weeks then. So busy thinking of all the ways he could have had you since then, Mando didn’t notice how the silence affected you until your fingers twitched against his chest. 

“Mando?”

“That was eons ago.” It was more of a comment than a question and you weren’t sure if he was angry or surprised. 

“Is...is that bad?”

“Bad? No Ad'ika, not bad.” When he didn’t offer more of an explanation, you rested your head on his chest and continued to draw circles on his naked abdomen. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat there in each others arms but the faint sounds of cooing and laughter snapped you out of your haze and you realized you should probably get up and make something for the kid to eat. Before you could move away from him however, Mando was bringing you closer to him and kissing you again. You knew you could never tire from feeling his lips mold and pass over yours and you welcomed his tongue with as much vigor as you could muster up.

As he pulled away, you smiled at him and wished more than anything to be able to see him smile back at you. 

“Din.”

“Hmm?”

“My name...it’s Din. Din Djarin.” 

Mando could see the exact moment you registered what he just said and he smirked to himself at how pretty you looked when something shocking took place. 

“Din.” You repeated his name silently, afraid this would all be a dream and that he didn’t actually just tell you something that was so important to him.

“You didn’t have to tell me…” You traced his jaw with your fingers and marveled at how oddly soft his beard was. 

“I didn’t, but I wanted to.” Din was silent for a few seconds before he flipped you beneath him and took hold of your wrists before slamming them harshly above your head. “I wanted you to know it, Mesh'la, so you could scream it the next time I fucked this sweet and tight cunt.” 

For a man of few words, he sure knew what to say to get you worked up again.

Translations: 

Ni Kelir kyr'amur gar meh gar vaabir not ba'slanar kaysh - I will kill you if you do not leave her.

Ni vaabir not baatir te waadas. - I do not care about the credits.

Gedet'ye. - Please.

Ad'ika - Little one

Ni’duraa! - You disgust me.

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Cyare - Beloved

Gota'la - Maker.

Gar cuyir mesh'la. - You are beautiful. 

K'olar - Come here.

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Ner - Mine.

Ni'm liser't...taylir norac. - I can’t...hold back.

Ni chaabar gar, cyar'ika. - I fear you, darling.

Gar cuyir too jaon'yc at ni. Ni liser't nibral gar. - You are too important to me. I can’t lose you.

[wri0thesley]

Could I get a request for Nanami somnophilia? Maybe he’s had a hard day at work and wants to destress a little by making you feel good? ~ 💖 u///u

Sweet Dreams, Darling - Nanami x Reader (2.1k)

You’re so pretty, and Nanami’s so stressed, and he just can’t resist you.

warnings: afab reader, no pronouns (reader wears a nightgown). not sfw, somnophilia* (not discussed in the fic but implied to have been agreed upon), coming inside.

Today had gone far beyond overtime.

Nanami is buzzing with unrestrained feelings when he opens his own front door, crackling with cursed energy that hasn’t yet worn off him even after defeating the curse. He can feel it tensing his muscles and shoulders, making everything seem all the more intense, like shivers and electricity running through his fingers.

He can’t remember the last time that a mission had left him feeling like this; so on-edge and stressed. Usually by the time he gets home after work, he’s bone-tired. Even when he hasn’t put in any overtime, it’s all he can do to keep his eyes open and strip off his work clothes and accept the kisses you lavish on his cheeks as you admonish him for working too hard, telling him he needs to take a break every so often.

He wearily strips off his jacket, his harness, his weapon and hangs them on the coat rack in the hallway. It’s dark, and he doesn’t want to turn on the lights and perhaps alert you to his presence when he knows you probably stayed up too long waiting for him anyway, so he tries to ensure his feet slide almost-silently across the wooden floor, until he can open the door to the shared bedroom and--

His breath catches in his throat. He’d been right, that you’d stayed up to greet him and welcome him home – but you’d evidently grown too tired to keep your eyelids propped open, and you’d fallen asleep in the warm golden glow of the bedside lamp, your book fallen onto the floor beside you. He kneels to pick it up, to place it on the night stand; and he can’t help but notice how pretty you look in the light.

Your mouth looks so soft and plush. He knows what you taste and feel like against his own lips, intimately, but every time he catches a glimpse of your mouth again he wants to suck it into his mouth and bite until you groan. The curves and lines of your peaceful face are positively angelic, the fan of your eyelashes against your cheeks making him want to brush his thumb over your skin and see how warm you would feel beneath the places he’s calloused from gripping his weapon too hard.

You haven’t pulled yourself down under the blankets, because it is a summer’s evening and the air is cloying. You're wearing a thin white nightgown, a confection of satin and lace – the straps dig into your shoulders, cling to your breasts and hips, emphasising the curves of you that Nanami knows will fit so well into his big hands. He knows you like he knows the back of his hand; he’s spent countless nights entangled in you, studying you with his lips and mouth and fingers. Knows the places that make you sigh, make you bare your throat, make you twist your fingers into his hair and murmur; “Kento, please,” like it’s an invocation for him to grant you release. The lace-trimmed hem barely skims your thighs, and Nanami can already tell that you’re wearing nothing underneath it.

His cock gives an answering throb to that assumption in his slacks.

You’re always so unfairly pretty. He doesn’t know how to deal with it – this rush of affection whenever he sees you, the fact that his body responds to your curves and your smiles and the glitter of your eyes like it’s betraying him. He knows he’s handsome, but he’s never considered himself desirable – but you look at him like he hung the stars, cling to him at night, brush kisses over his neck until he believes you when you tell him how perfect he is.

“You can do anything to me,” you’ve breathed against him, too many times to count. “Any time you want, any place – I’m yours.”

You wouldn’t mind. He hesitates for a moment, before he brings up a hand to his tie. Loosens the knot. Unbuttons his shirt. Unzips his slacks. Through it all, it’s like he’s on autopilot – his eyes do not for one moment leave your prone form, so peaceful and unbothered in sleep. You look like an angel. How’s he supposed to resist?

The thought of parting your soft thighs has his cock stirring again, and he palms it through his underwear, his eyes flickering closed for a moment as he remembers that this morning, you’d ground your ass against him in bed when he’d had to get up. You’d batted your eyelashes, pouted; “Just stay for ten minutes?” You’d asked him, and he’d had to sigh and kiss your forehead.

He hates denying himself, but he hates denying you even more.

He’s undressed now, and he climbs onto the bed to look at you. Your face shifts as the bed dips under his weight, eyebrows furrowing for just a moment before they smooth back out and your face is perfectly peaceful once more. A hand comes up to caress the cheek, to rub his thumb along your lower lip – your mouth opens slightly, allowing him to slide his thumb into your mouth. Still sleeping, your tongue brushes the digit, sucks on it gently before he withdraws it.

The submissive little action has his belly all full of flames.

Hands caress your collarbones. Fingertips stroking along your bare shoulders, the place an old love bite from him has faded to be barely noticeable. He slides his palms over your breasts, relishing the warm, heavy weight of them. You curve out so beautifully, fit in his hands like you were made to be held there. You shift again in your sleep, unconsciously leaning in to the hungry heat of his touch. He can’t help but lean in as his thumbs caress your nipples, coaxing the buds to hardness beneath his touch. He breathes in the scent of your hair, so familiar – smooths his lips across your forehead, the bridge of your nose, your cheeks. Brushes his lips against your mouth, winning a soft exhale of breath from you, one that has a little bit of a whine hidden behind it as he continues to play with your chest, squeeze the weight of your breasts in his hands.

You unconsciously press your thighs together, sighing, and Nanami cannot wait any longer. Those two big hands slide past your waist, over your hips, over your outer thighs so he can dig his fingers into the softest parts of your legs and gently part them. The nightgown’s hem is pushed out of the way with the movement, folding and bunching over your hips to reveal that his attentions have certainly had an effect on the slit nestled between your legs.

Even in lamplight, you’re wet enough that Nanami’s mouth practically waters. Beads of your slick glisten, clinging to the softly furled petals of your sex – the pearl of your clit peeking out from beneath the hood. The feel of the cool air hitting your heated cunt makes your face scrunch for a moment, the expression so lovely and raw that Nanami wants to kiss it off your face.

His cock is pulled out of his underwear, encircled in his fist – the shaft is thick and hot and hard, pulsing with need for you. The glans is slick with his own pre-come – not that it needs to be, as he shifts his hips and rubs the head through the lips of your labia, smearing your arousal all over him.

A full-body shiver goes through him at the feel of your cunt’s folds clinging to his cock – he’s not even inside you, and he feels like he could come. He hadn’t realised just how pent-up he was from today’s nightmare of a job until he had come home to the refuge of your body – even asleep, you manage to calm him. He feels like a ship that’s come into port, as he rubs the head of his cock up and down your cunt. You shiver every time it makes contact with your clit, and he feels your own body pulse beneath his. In your sleep, you still want to be fucked by him. As he repeats the motion, making sure the head drags faster over the swollen bundle of nerves, you sigh so prettily and cant your hips so adoringly that he thinks he’s woken you up--

No. Your mouth has dropped into a soft, small ‘o’ shape, but your eyelids do not even flicker. There’s the lightest sheen of sweat on your forehead, and muscles in your thighs are twitching, but you are still deep in your dreams.

He wonders what you’re dreaming about; selfishly, he hopes it is him. He hopes some part of what he’s doing has permeated your consciousness. Judging by how wet you are, the way he can feel your cunt clenching when his cockhead drags too close to your tight hole, he knows you’re at least having a very good time in your own imagination.

Rubbing his cock through your slick is all very well and good, but it’s not sating the urge inside of him. It’s not enough. He wants to feel your body around him – your heart beating, your breath catching.

He adjusts himself with his thumb and forefinger, letting his cock head catch on the rim of your entrance.

This one makes you let out a soft;

“Aaah—,” in your sleep, so quiet that it may as well be a puff of air as Nanami takes his time sheathing himself within you, enjoying the tight cling of your walls, plush and wet and welcoming. He’s buried his cock in you so many times, and you’re always tight enough that it feels like the first one all over again – your breath shaking your chest, your mouth open, the pulse of both of your hearts pressed against one another.

As he bottoms out inside you, your head moves restlessly; your pretty mouth shapes a wordless moan, a whimper, that soon turns into;

“K-Kento, mm, please--”

You are dreaming about him. The thought makes his gut twist hot, almost pushes him over the edge. He pulls out gently before driving himself back in, not wanting to wake you up by being too enthusiastic in his pumping. It’s nice, having you like this – feeling the way you’re sucking him in, being able to sense every little pulse and clench of your walls. His front presses against yours as he gathers your thighs up, holding them further apart. You seem to get what he wants even in your half-asleep state, soft thighs locking about his hips. Oh, fuck. He tries to keep his pace steady, but you just feel so good around him – like you were made to take his cock.

One of his thrusts is particularly hard, the wet sound of his cock inside of your cunt echoing about the walls, his pelvis grinding perhaps a bit too forcefully into yours – and your eyes flicker open, dark and hazy with sleep. They half-focus on him above you, all misty and pretty. Your mouth curves into a sleepy smile as you look at him, one of your hands gently reaching above you to cup Nanami’s face and trace the sharp line of his cheekbone and jaw.

“Kento?” You murmur. “Mm, feels . . . feels good--”

“Shh,” Nanami murmurs, smoothing a kiss onto your palm. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

You sigh.

“Love you,” you say to him, sleep-laced – and then you do fall back to sleep, your eyes drifting closed again even as Nanami’s hips are still driving into you. Your hand drops from his face – but your lips don’t lose the smile, tired but wicked, and Nanami is staring at that perfect curve of your mouth as his orgasm tears through him.

His cock twitches inside of you as pleasure blinds him for a moment, all whited out heat and his cock pulsing spurt after spurt of his release inside of you. Your body clings to him, greedily drinking in everything he gives you, and he waits, slowly rocking his hips against your inner walls until he’s sure that he’s utterly drained and that every drop of his come has been pushed as deep inside of you as it can go.

Only then does he let himself pull out.

Your eyebrows furrow as he does it, as your cunt is suddenly found empty – but then, Nanami crawls to lay beside you, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you spoon-fashion so you mould to his body. The soft, pleased smile on your face hasn’t faded at all.

He feels bad that you haven’t gotten to come - ordinarily, Nanami considers himself a gentleman. He likes having you come two, three times before he’s so much as gotten his cock inside of you - but tonight had been different. Tonight he had needed this. Needed you.

You snuggle into his embrace though, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world – and he consoles himself. It’s not like he doesn’t have a hundred nights in the future to make it up to you - he wants to spend the rest of his life kissing you, making love to you, holding you, fucking you. Loving you. 

He drops another kiss on your shoulder, murmuring softly into the crook of your neck;

“Love you more.”

[edenmemes]

skyward sword sentence starters

more to be added !

❝ you promised to meet me before it starts, remember? ❞ ❝ you seem pretty...relaxed about the whole thing. ❞ ❝ is something wrong? what’s the hurry? ❞ ❝ sometimes i just don’t know what’s going on in your head. ❞ ❝ i'm not like you. i fail at everything i try. ❞ ❝ a shrimpy boy like you hardly looks the part of a hero. ❞ ❝ swatting a few monsters will be no trouble for you. ❞ ❝ run and play this time. get in my way again, though, and you’re dead. ❞ ❝ don’t even pretend that was an accident! ❞ ❝ do you doubt these eyes? i look upon your shirt and i see a single thread loose on your sleeve stitching. ❞ ❝ this is no place for one such as you. and yet here you stand. ❞ ❝ i need to vent all this unhealthy anger,     and your agony is such a great stress reliever. ❞ ❝ remember what we discussed. restrain yourself. focus on the task at hand. ❞ ❝ do my words anger you? do my words sting? let them. ❞ ❝ you don’t come by here just to see me, do you? ❞ ❝ what’s wrong? you just made a face like you wanted to say something. ❞ ❝ oh, i get it. you’re trying to weasel out of having to practice. ❞ ❝ i guess it’s not all bad. at least i’m getting paid. ❞ ❝ there’s something i’ve been meaning to talk to you about.... ❞ ❝ would you wake up, straighten up, and grow a backbone already? ❞ ❝ nice try, but you’re not fooling me. ❞ ❝ i...i have to go. i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ folks were always cheering me on like it was a parade. but as you know, time passes. ❞ ❝ you keep some very strange company, friend. ❞ ❝ i don’t know if it’s safe yet...i’m going to stay here awhile longer. ❞ ❝ oh no. you’ve done it now! there’s no escaping this one! ❞ ❝ so, what now? are you going to cry? ❞ ❝ i can’t begin to tell you how sorry i am for pulling you into all of this. ❞ ❝ what is wrong with you? just look at what you’ve done! ❞ ❝ what we’ve seen here today defies explanation. ❞ ❝ you put up more of a fight than i would have thought possible out of such a soft person. ❞ ❝ did you really just draw your sword? foolish. ❞ ❝ should you heed the call of destiny,     i don’t know what dangers you may have to face. ❞ ❝ i can’t help being such a coward...i’m really sorry. ❞ ❝ i fear i spent far too long teasing and toying with you. ❞ ❝ you do your people proud. ❞ ❝ how long do we have to live in constant fear? ❞ ❝ i'll just beat you within an inch of your life! ❞ ❝ dawn is drawing near. it has been a long night for the both of us, hasn’t it? ❞ ❝ you were limp and unconscious. i feared the worst. ❞ ❝ what do you think you’re doing sneaking out with that? ❞ ❝ such a beautiful day, but we’re too busy to enjoy it. some things never change. ❞ ❝ i guess you’ll never learn unless you run into trouble one day. ❞ ❝ look at my face. if that’s your idea of a joke, i’m not laughing. ❞ ❝ you appeared to be relishing that snooze, so i declined to wake you. ❞ ❝ huh? oh, uh, nothing. really, i was, uh...talking to myself. ❞ ❝ you’re looking a little pale... ❞ ❝ i imagine you and i will cross paths again. until then, do not lower your guard. ❞ ❝ you certainly are persistent... ❞ ❝ all that may be well intentioned and true, but it doesn’t mean it’s right. ❞ ❝ i’m prepared to pay the price for what i’ve done. ❞ ❝ i had no idea we were fated to carry such a heavy destiny. ❞ ❝ i need your strength to tip the scales in our favor. ❞ ❝ all this training, and no results! ❞ ❝ all i’ve hears so far is a bunch of babbling about destiny,     but that’s a load of garbage. ❞ ❝ when night draws her tenebrous curtain across the sky, i come here. ❞ ❝ what in the world just happened? did you use some kind of magic? ❞ ❝ please, see it through and prove the legends true. ❞ ❝ i was happy just spending my days hanging around with you. i wanted that feeling to last forever. ❞ ❝ you are vital to a mission of great importance. ❞ ❝ the chances of that happening are just about less than zero. ❞ ❝ i hate to break it to you, but today’s the day i bust up this adorable little fantasyland you’re living in. ❞ ❝ this is a war, and the fate of the land hangs in the balance. ❞ ❝ i know you, and you’re no hero. ❞ ❝ you’re messing with me. say it again, i dare you. ❞ ❝ you float through life with your head in the clouds. ❞ ❝ i don’t do charity for wimps. ❞ ❝ what’s this...? what is it that my eyes behold? ❞ ❝ don’t even think about it! are we clear? ❞ ❝ the point is your work here is done. i got it covered from here. ❞ ❝ my eyes foresee a hazardous, thorny road ahead for you... ❞ ❝ you...this is your fault, you know. ❞ ❝ my heart is bursting with thoughts of you. ❞ ❝ i have a serious dilemma on my mind right now, and you’re distracting me. ❞ ❝ i’ll make you proud. you’ll see! ❞ ❝ feels dangerous. something could jump out at us at any moment. ❞ ❝ we’re talking about a tale that’s been passed down over a lot of years, so i wouldn’t put much stock in it. ❞ ❝ i have the right to experience an unfettered and passionate love, don’t i? ❞ ❝ i’ll tell you, it gives even a big guy like me the creeps. ❞ ❝ oh...how can i get you to notice me? ❞ ❝ i get the feeling nothing i can say will talk you out of it. ❞ ❝ my love for you is wider than the horizon and deeper than the clouds. ❞ ❝ trust my piercing eyes...listen to my pure and innocent voice. ❞ ❝ i feel so excited, so cheerful, so full of life. ❞ ❝ i sense a silent power dwelling somewhere in your frame. ❞ ❝ this turn of events has left me with a strong appetite for bloodshed. ❞ ❝ there’s no doubting it. the gears of fate have begun to turn. ❞ ❝ i'm sorry. i was lost in thought there for a moment. ❞ ❝ don’t men open doors for a lady anymore? how long am i supposed to stand here waiting for a little chivalry? ❞ ❝ i hate even saying this, but i guess you got it all figured out. ❞ ❝ you must not push yourself. you’re still recovering. ❞ ❝ you think you’re pretty suave, don’t you? ❞ ❝ i know you’re in a hurry, so i really appreciate you taking the time to help. ❞ ❝ i saw it, but i was able to escape by the seat of my pants. ❞ ❝ do you have any idea how that made me feel inside? furious! outraged! sick with anger! ❞ ❝ you’re really something else. i could never imagine myself doing what you’re about to do. ❞ ❝ i must aid you in fulfilling the great destiny that is your burden to carry. ❞ ❝ i should have believed you...i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ lately, when i think about you, my head gets all fuzzy, my heart races, i get short of breath, and i feel all dizzy... ❞ ❝ you should know better than that to fret about me. ❞ ❝ thanks for jumping in there to rescue me. ❞ ❝ hey, hold on there! what are you trying to pull all of a sudden? ❞ ❝ your face cries out in earnest wonder, and that cry is: ‘what’s this?!’ ❞ ❝ i promise up front not to murder you. ❞ ❝ you...didn’t hear any of that, did you? there’s no way you heard, right? ❞ ❝ i tell you, all sorts of weird things are going on lately. ❞ ❝ calamitous visions appear before me... ❞ ❝ you...make me so happy...i think i’m going to keel over... ❞ ❝ i wanted you to be the first to see me like this. ❞ ❝ i can’t imagine a more fitting color for you. it’s as though you were born to wear it. ❞ ❝ i bet you can’t even decide what to have for lunch on your own, huh? ❞ ❝ amazing, right? wrong! it is beyond amazing! ❞ ❝ it can’t be easy for you, can it? ❞ ❝ you’ll see in time that you have your own role to play in all this. ❞ ❝ trust in fate to guide your feet. ❞ ❝ i bet you’re here just to check me out, right? ❞ ❝ i just hope nothing has happened. i’m worried sick thinking about it. ❞ ❝ whoa...you’re kind of imploding my mind right now. ❞ ❝ if you wanna live again one day, you should head for home. ❞ ❝ you have a great journey before you, and those clothes...they don’t look up to the task. ❞ ❝ did you manage to get even a wink of sleep last night? ❞ ❝ ever heard of banging your knuckles against the door? it’s called knocking. ❞ ❝ so, uh...yeah. just how long have you been standing there? ❞ ❝ honestly, it’s almost as though you become a completely different person when you worry about me. ❞ ❝ you showing up here must mean we’re connected somehow. like fate. ❞ ❝ sorry to put you through that. i guess i owe you one now. ❞ ❝ to tell you the truth, i’m feeling a little frustrated, and right now i just need someone to vent to. ❞ ❝ what’s with you? leave me alone if you don’t want anything. ❞ ❝ hearing that is such a...huge weight off my mind. ❞ ❝ though your journey will put you in harms way, you must endure. ❞ ❝ i'm just deadweight. what kinda use is that to anyone... ❞ ❝ seriously, what is that thing over there?! ❞ ❝ before i say another word, i feel like i owe you an apology. ❞ ❝ during your long journey, you’ve grown so much. ❞ ❝ from the moment i laid my eyes on you, i could tell you had a gentle and generous heart. ❞ ❝ oh dear...i don’t know what’s come over me all of a sudden... ❞ ❝ you don’t appear to have any serious injuries. for that much we can be grateful. ❞ ❝ i can see into those dopey eyes of yours. ❞ ❝ i can finally smile and laugh again! thank you ever so much. ❞ ❝ i think i might of broke something. ❞ ❝ is that it? i thought it was going to put up more of a fight. ❞ ❝ i thought we were goners this time. sort of glad i was wrong about that. ❞ ❝ what? i don’t seem like my usual self? ❞ ❝ this place needs a name. a name fitting for this rugged, adventurous wilderness. ❞ ❝ what were you thinking? you scared a year off my life! ❞ ❝ care to explain just what you meant by ‘our special moment alone’? ❞ ❝ my advice? work hard and wish with all your heart. ❞ ❝ say, you look all flustered. ❞ ❝ i fear we can’t dwell on our success. ❞ ❝ the world is bursting with undiscovered surprises, isn’t it? ❞ ❝ you're not exactly mr/mrs.perfect either, are you? ❞ ❝ this is easily as scary as i thought it would be. ❞ ❝ i swear this neighborhood’s getting crummier every day. ❞ ❝ you ain’t as dumb as you look. ❞ ❝ i was going to ask if you wanted me to take care of you forever... ❞ ❝ i need to learn how to keep these delirious dreams in check. ❞ ❝ maybe you should forget about everything that happened here tonight. ❞ ❝ can you imagine a more gruesome fate? ❞ ❝ there are more monsters about than before, so be careful. ❞ ❝ human desire is an insatiable, fearsome thing. ❞ ❝ i sense an evil presence on the other side of this door. ❞ ❝ you understand, don’t you? i’m not wrong about this, am i? ❞ ❝ i never wanted to lay eyes on you again. ❞ ❝ i would have gotten discouraged if you hadn’t come by to cheer me on. you gave me motivation. ❞ ❝ who do you think you are, getting involved in my business like that? ❞ ❝ i just wish there was more i could do for you... ❞ ❝ i don’t even understand how you could make such a wild accusation! ❞ ❝ it was at that moment i finally realized. i realized that...i love you. ❞ ❝ make sure you come home every now and then. nothing like a good sleep in your own bed. ❞ ❝ you’d better not keep me waiting. ❞ ❝ make sure you put your heart into it! i won’t stand for anything but your best. ❞ ❝ how could you be swayed by the temptation of material gain?     do you have no honor? ❞ ❝ you really want to hear about all my troubles? that’s kind of you. ❞ ❝ you...weren’t supposed to see that whole spectacle. how embarrassing... ❞ ❝ you have only succeeded in buying us a little more time. ❞ ❝ watch it! that’s no way to talk to someone who just saved your life! ❞ ❝ you look like you need to get something off your chest. ❞ ❝ know that all the questions you have now will be answered in time. ❞ ❝ there is nothing natural about these tremors. ❞ ❝ you might just be the person i need! you seem pretty good with the ladies. ❞ ❝ it’s great to hear you’re so confident in me. ❞ ❝ ideal love is unfettered and passionate. anything less than that can’t really be called love at all. ❞ ❝ you're incessant buzzing around my head like some irksome gadfly when i’m this busy is...making me very disagreeable. ❞ ❝ you may not have noticed, but i’m trying to hide here.     could you please scoot along? ❞ ❝ you'd better keep your eyes to yourself, if you know what i mean. ❞ ❝ have you come to laugh at me in my miserable state? ❞ ❝ you...you came to see me! i’m so happy. ❞ ❝ your job is simple! you make sure none of these monsters lays a claw on me. not...one...claw. ❞ ❝ now is not the time to be picky about who will help you. ❞ ❝ watch carefully while i demonstrate what a real hero looks like. ❞ ❝ you are something else! there is nothing you cannot do. ❞ ❝ if you think about how often we meet, you have to admit that our relationship has gone beyond friendship, you know? ❞ ❝ i’ll make the affair so excruciating, you’ll deafen yourself with the shrill sound of your own screams. ❞ ❝ i was right, then. there is something special about you. ❞ ❝ i should have reprimanded you the last time we met, but instead i was...soft. ❞ ❝ ha-ha! you didn’t see that coming, did you? ❞ ❝ you really are a snake in the grass. ❞ ❝ you are indeed worthy of being called a hero. ❞ ❝ i’m not used to getting stared at like this. it’s making me blush. ❞ ❝ i can’t hide anything from you, can i? ❞ ❝ the longer i train, the more i realize i’ll never measure up to you. ❞ ❝ whoa...you took out every last one of them. ❞ ❝ i know how bad this must look to you right now, but i assure you i mean no harm. ❞ ❝ it’s all very strange, but i doubt there’s much of a connection between these things. ❞ ❝ you're a weird one, climbing all the way up here. ❞ ❝ don’t cry --- it’s perfectly, mostly safe! ❞ ❝ you and i, we’re bound by that thread of fate. destined to fight. ❞ ❝ meet me in battle, and the thread of fate that binds us will be soaked crimson with your blood. ❞ ❝ i do not wish to dwell on what may have happened if you hadn’t been here. ❞ ❝ you have awakened a wrath that will burn for eons! ❞ ❝ you really like those fantasy stories, eh? ❞ ❝ there is one teensy, tiny thing i lack...namely, mercy. ❞ ❝ i must warn you, i won’t go easy on you this time. ❞ ❝ i might be willing to forgive and forget if you’ll strike a deal. ❞ ❝ since i know i can be honest with you, i’ll admit i got a little sulky. it was frowns all around. ❞ ❝ i see you’re still among the living. ❞ ❝ i saw them dragging you off unconscious, so i tailed them. ❞ ❝ i want you to visit me at my house tonight. ❞ ❝ you don’t have to say a word. i can see how you feel by the spark in your eye. ❞ ❝ you’ll see. i’ll be as tough as you in no time. ❞ ❝ it’s not like ‘oh, hey, that person’s back! i’m so happy!’ or anything like that... ❞ ❝ whoa...that’s some really terrible handwriting. ❞ ❝ i would very much like it if you would go out with me. ❞ ❝ truly? you choose me? ❞ ❝ i swear to you, whatever it takes, i will drag you into an eternity of torment. ❞ ❝ you and i, we’re bound by a thread of fate. ❞ ❝ i’ll watch over you, protecting you from afar. ❞ ❝ until then, we’ll keep our love secret. ❞ ❝ this news has just filled my heart with rainbows! ❞ ❝ this place seems strangely familiar... ❞ ❝ don’t you gotta take care of your own business first? ❞ ❝ they’re not going to do anything nice if they catch you. ❞ ❝ it’s not humane to tease someone this bored. ❞ ❝ i’m not some sideshow for you to gawk at. ❞ ❝ it’s weird to say out loud, but that’s just how i feel right now. ❞ ❝ you can’t break me with interrogation. you’ll never make me talk. ❞ ❝ word is there’s a huge treasure hidden in these here ruins... ❞ ❝ what? that’s not weird to say! ❞ ❝ ...i understand your true feelings. better than you know. ❞ ❝ all the fairytales that we heard growing up...they appear all too real. ❞ ❝ do i look sad? no, i’m doing what i want to do! ❞ ❝ i don’t know what came over me! i had no clue i had the talent to make something like this. ❞ ❝ you shouldn’t be out here in the open with no way to defend yourself. ❞ ❝ you do have the tendency to cause trouble for those you ‘help’. ❞ ❝ as far as i’m concerned, i got nothing but time. ❞ ❝ don’t you play coy with me. i know that you know, so why not let me in on the fun? ❞ ❝ so you really think a sob story like that is going to work on me? what a joke. ❞ ❝ i’d take pleasure in punishing you, but i have no time for recreation. ❞ ❝ sorry to leave you on your own, but you look like you can handle it. ❞ ❝ remember --- it’s a secret to everybody. ❞ ❝ it isn’t as action packed as what you’re doing, but maybe this is my destiny. ❞ ❝ don’t you just love the way it smells down here? ❞ ❝ defending the land...it’s my purpose, i think. it’s why i’m here. ❞ ❝ what do i know...you might just surprise me. ❞ ❝ fibber! you’re a fibbity fibber! ❞ ❝ you needn’t even say it. i can tell from the look of sheer astonishment on your face. ❞ ❝ you have had this destiny thrust upon you without warning...    or choice, for that matter. ❞ ❝ don’t do anything heroic and get yourself caught. ❞ ❝ ...you want to tell me but you can’t? ❞ ❝ you know, i really worry about you. it’s a weakness of mine. ❞ ❝ try not to get in the way of my shots, ok? ❞ ❝ i haven’t slept a wink in...ahhh...i don’t even know how long. ❞ ❝ i had my suspicions, but until now i wasn’t sure. ❞ ❝ you seem a good deal stronger than the last time we met. ❞ ❝ i would be remiss if i didn’t let you know of the weight on my heart. ❞ ❝ i have a reputation to protect, you know. ❞ ❝ listen closely. do you hear that? ❞

[midgardianweasley]

I‘d love to see you write an angsty fanfic with Natasha x reader (male or female is up to you) with a bad ending of your choice.

No pressure of course ✨

as requested Violet!! I hope it's okay<3

How could you do this to me?

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha hasn’t been around recently and Y/N’s been really missing her company, but that changes when some CCTV footage is discovered.

Warnings: Cheating, swearing.

Word Count: 3.6k

there was an attempted proof read, but sorry in advance if i've missed anything!!

message/ask to be added to the taglist<3

Requests are open!

You weren’t surprised when you woke up to an empty bed once again, the space beside you missing a red-head assassin. You’d grown used to the sight of bedsheets spread lazily on your side of the bed, almost completely thrown off of the edge. It wasn’t unusual, however, the feeling of disappointment that lingered in your chest every morning never eased with time.

‘I’m just off to train, baby.’

‘I need to go and see Fury about this next mission, you go back to sleep’

‘I forgot to debrief the team last night, so we need to have a meeting this morning instead.’

‘Off to get some breakfast, my love. I’ll save you some eggs.’

Those were the typical reasons you received whenever you questioned where she was going in such a hurry in the mornings. You knew she was busy, of course you did. But, you missed the mornings when she’d pull you back into her chest, refusing to let you leave until you gave her a few kisses, which never ended up just being kisses, but you always gave in either way.

Now that you think of it, you can’t remember the last time she held you. Not properly. She used to hold you in a death grip, so tight that you could almost feel her heartbeat in your own chest. Nowadays, you were lucky to get more than a few taps on the back, it felt like you were being congratulated for something.

You’d always brushed it off, thinking that you must’ve been selfish for wanting so much of her attention, you had to be more understanding of how demanding her job is. It wasn’t like you never tried, you did, everyday. It would just be nice to feel her love for you a little more, even if it was just a quick peck before she left in the mornings.

“Hey Wan’, Hey Vis” You smiled at the pair as they stood at the kitchen counter, cracking eggs and buttering some toast. They loved cooking together, Wanda always told you how cute it was when Vision was trying to learn, especially after his fiasco with the Paprika.

“Hi Y/N, want something to eat?” Wanda handed you some toast, which you took gratefully, slowly munching on it.

Vision looked up as though to engage in conversation, when he then looked around in confusion. “Where’s Ms. Romanoff?”. You shrugged.

“I’m not sure, I think she’s training, I’ve not heard from her yet.”

You were looking at Vision, but it was near impossible to miss the sympathetic look Wanda was giving you. She knew about how you’d been feeling with Natasha not being around so much, she had tried to help, to hint to Nat that you’d been feeling a bit neglected for a while now, but she hadn’t gotten very far.

“Nat, nat, I just think that maybe you should spend a little more time with Y/N” It was obvious the assassin wasn’t listening to her, shrugging it off and trying to walk past the witch, only to have a hand pressed on her chest to push her backwards.

“Wanda, I need to go, I'm running late.”

“you’re always running somewhere. I'm sure Fury, or Tony or whoever you’re in such a rush to see, can wait. You haven’t seen your girlfriend in forever.”

“I saw her last night.”

“Crawling into bed in the early hours of the morning and sleeping next to her, isn’t seeing her, Nat.”

Her words fell on deaf ears as she watched her friend turn around and walk the other way. She could’ve used her powers to stop her, she didn’t see a point though. She wasn’t listening, and she couldn’t force her to.

“It's fine though, honestly! I can hang out with you guys today if you’re not busy?”

the couple shared a look of awkwardness before looking back towards you.

“Actually, we were going to go into town and do some sightseeing. You’re welcome to join us though!” She smiled, not wanting you to be alone, which you were grateful for, but you couldn’t intrude.

“No no, don’t worry! I think I've got something Tony wanted me to check out in the Lab, now that I think about it.” You didn’t. “You guys have fun though! take pictures!” You winked, knowing full well that your best friend didn’t believe you, she hesitated before nodding her head in agreement and beginning to walk off with Vision in tow.

__________________

An hour or so went by, you still hadn’t seen Natasha at all, or anyone, really. They all seemed to have disappeared to do their own thing, leaving you to find yours. So, you found yourself wandering into your lab, where you found Tony observing the screens with an endless amount of data changing every couple of seconds. You never really understood how he made sense of it all so quickly, but you’d always been intrigued nonetheless.

He must’ve sensed someone was there, as he broke away from his train of thought and glanced over towards you, fully acknowledging how your shoulders were slumped and your eyes lacked your usual sparkle. Tony alway had a soft spot for you, he’d known you for years, taking on a role similar to a father’s. Seeing you look so defeated recently, it’d hurt him a little more than he cared to admit.

Gesturing for you to come in with a gentle smile before moving and adjusting various chunks of metal on the table in the centre of the lab.

“Ah ah!” He tapped the bridge of his nose

“You can’t be serious! Tony I-”

“Nope”

“I’m a grown woman!” You laughed in disbelief at his

“Yes, you are, and I do not plan on taking said grown woman to medical because she got a shot of electricity through her eyeball. Put them on.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up a pair of the obnoxiously large lab goggles and put them over your face. He really took being a ‘father figure’ too seriously sometimes. With your goggles on, you took yourself over to where he stood, hoping to help him out somehow and keep yourself occupied.

You watched him move around blueprints on the screen above. “So, whatcha working on?”

“Well, remember that last mission we went on? How that ended?”

“Well, considering I had to get bullets removed for the last two hours, I’d say I remember pretty well.”

His face cringed slightly “Yeah, that’s the one. I’m basically just trying to layer the suits more, but keep the weight to a minimum so that there’s more protection, but the speed and mobility is almost, if not, the same.” He pondered, mind wandering off again to try and figure out how he could make this work.

Suddenly springing to action, he started assembling some pieces together, chucking some aside and reaching for different tools he required.

Looking towards you, he tilted his head “Can you pass me the-”

His sentence was interrupted. “Hey Tony, hey-” Banner. You didn’t mind Bruce, he was always quite quiet and polite most of the time, a little awkward, but, when you have a literal Hulk inside of you, it’s probably the least of your concerns.

You waved at the Avenger. “Hi Bruce” You gave him a friendly smile, for it to be returned with an awkward gaze, which he tried to quickly shove off.

“Yeah, uh, hi, Y/N. W-what brings you here?”

“Oh, no particular reason, I wanted something to do so I thought I'd come down, just pay a visit.” He nodded, acknowledging your words but appearing a little on edge, almost.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked “You look a little pale?”

“Yeah, yeah n-no I'm fine, just a-a bit tired.” He stuttered before suddenly directing his attention towards the man standing beside you. “How’s it coming along, Ton’?”

“Not bad, I have a wonderful assistant to help me out.” he nudged you playfully.

“Haha, yeah. She’s great. Anyways, you seem to have a good hold on things, so, I’ll leave you to it and come back later.”

Neither of you had managed to get a word out before Banner had walked out and was already out of sight. You turned to face Tony again.

“Was that- did you find that weird at all?”

“I find most of the people in this compound weird.”

It was a serious question, but you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the millionaire’s response.

“I do pride myself on it.”

“As you should. You’re the weirdest one.”

“Hey!” You slapped his arm. “Rude!”

“I’m kidding! Now, pass me that screwdriver, goggles.”

Chuckling, you threw him the screwdriver and zoned out thinking about Bruce’s weird behaviour. While Tony was right, the majority of us are weird. You couldn’t stop thinking about how unusual it was, even for him. You put it to the back of your mind though, focusing back on what the man beside you was working on. You’re sure it’s fine.

________________________

You thought you were going crazy. First you had Nat, who was disappearing every chance she got, Then you had Bruce who couldn’t look you in the eye and when you finally believed it couldn’t get any weirder, you picked up on some strange vibes from Steve.

“Oh finally! I was beginning to think no one else actually lives here.” You approached Steve who seemed to be walking and talking with Bruce, both taking a step back when they looked towards you.

“Hey Y/N, we were just-”

“We were just about to go and have a shower. Training.” Steve cut in, earning himself a glare and a shake of the head from the scientist beside him, subtle, so you hadn’t noticed, otherwise you would’ve questioned it.

“Oh? You were training too, Bruce?”

“Well, I-” He glanced at Steve. “Yeah. Yeah, I, uh, wanted to get some combat down, just in case I needed it.”

“Considering our last mission, I think we all should.” the super soldier quickly added, sending you an enthusiastic smile, which you had returned. You went to speak again, possibly inquiring as to whether or not they knew where your girlfriend was, but you hadn't had the chance as the pair of them quickly rushed off, muttering something about catching you later, leaving you on your own, once again.

What the hell was going on?

_____________________

Feeling defeated, you trudged your way into your bedroom, just wanting to shower, get into bed and sleep, and hope for some form of normality.

What you hadn’t expected, was to walk in and see the back of a familiar figure sporting the black suit she practically lived in, tying her hair into a low bun and beginning to change into some more comfortable clothes.

You were dating, so it wasn’t new to see Nat changing, but you still thought it would be decent to make her aware of your presence. The small “ahem” was enough to make her spin round and flash you a smile, her pearly white teeth on show.

“Hi babe, i’m just changing for bed. You okay?”

The words felt so unfamiliar to you, having not heard them in what felt like forever. Still, you decided to humour it.

“Yeah, yeah I'm okay. A bit of a weird day is all.”

She laughed, returning to laying out her clothes. “Well, we are surrounded by some weird people.”

“That’s what Tony said.”

There was an atmosphere in the air that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It had always felt comfortable with Natasha, you would describe her company as being like a safety blanket, enveloping you with warmth and a sense of security. This felt different. It didn’t feel familiar anymore, it was like you were face to face with a stranger and the more you looked at her, the more it upset you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Natasha put her palms on your cheeks, bringing your Y/E/C eyes to meet her emerald ones in the process. You hadn’t realised that tears had fallen until the pad of her thumbs gently brushed them away.

“I just, it sounds so stupid.”

“Tell me.”

You let out a sigh, eyes beginning to dart around the room. “It just feels like I’ve never seen you, I don’t remember the last time we’ve spoken and it’s, it’s been lonely.” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your response, lips falling into a frown, but you were quick to speak again.

“It hasn’t just been you though, I understand that work gets in the way, but, it felt like some members of the team were acting differently around me.”

“Really? Like who?”

“Well, I mean, Bruce could barely bring himself to say anything more than a sentence to me and I tried to speak to Steve just before I came here and he rushed off like his life depended on it. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being a bit paranoid.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Detka, I wouldn’t worry about it.” She whispered, hands pulling you forward with ease to bring your lips together. You smiled at the contact, you’d missed it.

You were so caught up in it, that you hadn’t noticed you were the only one smiling.

It wasn’t long before the both of you were interrupted by an electronic voice in the room.

“Miss Romanoff, Miss Y/L/N.” It was F.R.I.D.A.Y. “Mr Stark is asking for you both in the conference room.”

“Alright, thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y., we’re on our way.” Your girlfriend replied, rushing away from the kiss and leading you to the door.

Why was everyone in such a rush today?

_______________________

“So, I was messing around with some things in the lab, and I think I've found a solution to our suit issue. It’s still a work in progress because I'll need to tweak some things and then tailor them blah blah blah, but I thought I'd show you guys the latest. JARVIS?”

“Bringing up footage 182.”

While you waited for the video to be up and running, you took note of everyone sitting around you. For the most part, they looked tired, though you don’t blame them, it was pretty late.

Shuffling to your left, you held Natasha’s hand in yours, sending her a loving gaze before resting your head on her shoulder, just content that she was close by. She sat a little straighter at the action, careful not to push you off of her, but not entirely relaxing either.

The large tv screen lit up, a view from the corner of the lab came into sight where you could see Tony installing different wires and pieces of loose metal into the suit, watching it light up as he did so. He was in the middle of explaining what he was doing as the recording went on, when the screen suddenly turned to static, black and white lines taking over the screen.

“JARVIS?”

“Minor technical issue, working on it, Mr Stark.”

You caught Wanda’s eye across the table, a playful smirk plastered onto her face at the mishap, watching the billionaire get stressed over a television. You couldn’t help but laugh at the words flying from his mouth as he started hitting the remote, as if he was someone who didn’t understand technology.

It wasn’t long before an image appeared back on the screen, however, this wasn’t the same recording. This is from the gym. It focused on one of the square mats in the middle of the room where two people were sparring. One of which, you immediately recognised as Natasha.

The other person definitely wasn’t a girl, their hair was short and muscles so big you were worried that one slice would be the end. It zoomed in a little, and from the blonde hair and dark blue outfit, you pieced together who it was.

“Oooh, Black Widow and the SuperSoldier, one vs one. Now this should be interesting.” A previously tired looking Sam clapped his hands and leaned forward, now fully invested in the scene in front of him.

You turned to Nat, who now looked a little paler than she did before.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, don’t tell me, you lost this spar?” You joked, expecting her to join in and tease you back. Instead, her face displayed an emotion you weren’t entirely sure of.

Before you could question it, you noticed the room fall silent. Not even a breath could be heard in the room. Your head turned slowly, meeting a mixture of shocked and sympathetic faces. And that was when you saw it.

Nat had kissed Steve, and he didn’t stop her.

If you weren't aware of your heartbeat before, you couldn’t be now, for it felt like it had completely stopped. Your jaw fell as your eyes filled with tears, only worsening the longer you saw the two of them on the screen. It was only turned off when a third person walked into view, not needing to ponder on who it could be, you immediately faced guilty stares. Three of them.

“You- you kissed-” You stuttered, incapable of forming a sentence towards your teammate. “And, you knew?” Your voice broke, tears now beginning to find their way down your cheeks for the second time as Bruce couldn’t bring himself to answer you.

You swiftly rose out of your seat, attempting to keep yourself composed until you could be alone.

“Baby-” Natasha murmured, trying to take hold of your hand, which you snatched back before she could lay a finger on it.

“Don’t.”

“Please-”

“Leave me alone.” You spat, speed walking out of what now felt like an overcrowded room.

You didn’t hear it, you’d left too early, but if you had stayed, you would’ve heard the team give Nat and Steve the scolding of their lives, mainly from Wanda and Tony, telling them how disappointed they were in them both. How they’d be lucky if you were to forgive them for what they did.

________________________

You don’t know how long you’d been sitting on your shared bed for. It could’ve been an hour, it could’ve been a couple of minutes. All you knew, was that you couldn’t stay in this room much longer, looking at the picture frames and the shared wardrobe, it just felt painful.

So, you walked over to your wardrobe and gathered every item of your clothing into your arms, lacking any care for if there were hangers or labels in the way, and chucked them on the bed and started to chuck it all into a suitcase intended for holidays but, you don’t see that happening anytime soon.

The sound of sniffles and rustling was all you could hear in the room, so much so that it was suffocating, and it didn’t help when you heard the door creak open.

“What are you doing?” A voice squeaked. Natasha stood beside the door, fidgeting with her fingers as she anxiously bounced from one foot to the other. You didn’t even bother to look up in her direction, focusing solely on getting out of there as soon as you could.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, I didn’t mean it.” You scoffed at her attempt at an explanation. “I love you.”

That’s what made you whip your head to see her red and puffy eyes, if this was any other situation, you would’ve rushed over and engulfed her in a hug, tell her that everything would be okay and you’re there for her. Now? All you felt was anger.

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have kissed him.”

“I didn’t know-”

You stood up straight, almost laughing at her choice of words. “You didn’t know? Bullshit. I’m pretty fucking sure everyone is aware when they kiss someone. Did you know when you were kissing me then? Or did you not know that either?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“I don’t think I care.”

She tries to step closer to you, only for you to take one back, holding your hand out, indicating for her to stop.

“No. no, you know what Nat, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to treat me like a stranger for weeks, like I'm sharing a bed with someone I don’t know, for you to then kiss someone else and expect me to forgive you. You have no idea how I've felt these past weeks, blaming myself and thinking I was selfish for wanting your time. It’s funny, really.”

She looked away from you, regret taking over her features, both of you now having tear stains covering your rosy red cheeks.

You broke the silence once again. “Was that the first time?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Y/N-” She pleaded

“Answer the question, Natasha.” You spoke through gritted teeth.

Silence returned to the four walls.

“Get out.”

“No, no, we-” She stepped forward, only to halt herself when she realised what she was doing.

“There is no ‘we’. We’re done. I’ll have my stuff moved back into my room by tonight, though I'm sure it won’t make much of a difference to you.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Whatever.”

She walked out of the room, hesitating slightly, wondering if it’s worth staying and trying to figure out whatever this is. She shook her head to herself, knowing she’d fucked up. There wasn’t a fight anymore. It was done.

Collapsing on the bed, the feeling washed over you again as the finality of it all set in. You didn’t stop though. You packed your clothes, your perfumes, all of your loose hair ties and left the room with only one thought on your mind.

Natasha won’t even notice the difference.

Taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives @wandaromanova

[calumxkisses]

Sweet Creature | c.h.

pairing: calum hood x reader

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: i think implied smut?

summary: request - Heeyyy, can you do one, where they have a big fight and they are in quarentine, and they stop talking to each other, and the sleep in different rooms, with cal... kiss from brazil 🇧🇷

a/n: this is one of my favorite song! let me know what you think about it! i hope you enjoyed it ;)

you should read this imagine while listening to: sweet creature

➳

“What the hell is wrong with you?” a scream comes out of your lungs. Your face has turned red, your head hurts and you feel your heart pounding. Your throat is now dry and you feel your nails sticking into the palm of your hand.

What Calum notices, however, are the tears running down your face and the pain behind your eyes. What hurts him the most, though, is knowing he is the cause of your pain. He would like to hug you, tell you that he is sorry, that he loves you and that he doesn't even remember why you are fighting, but his pride prevents him from being the person he would like to be. The person you are in love with.

“All you do is whine.” he screams out, rolling his eyes and letting out a snort.

This discussion was the straw that broke the camel's back, filled by being forced to stay at home, by a canceled tour and canceled parties but, above all, by the concern of a world that is in chaos, with a fatal virus that spreads like wildfire.

He is worried, he feels the burden of not having to disappoint anyone, of being a good person who says the right things, of being a child who cares about their parents who live on the other side of the world and cannot go to visit, reassure, and that he can only see through a mobile phone screen.

“I have a right to be angry, you know that, right?” Your voice calms down a bit, but anger still runs through your veins. You walk up and down the room, with one hand on your forehead and being careful not to step on the broken glass of the fallen vase.

Calum has spent the last few weeks in the studio, out in the garden practicing, or locked in a room, anywhere but with you. He preferred to wake up early and go to sleep late, feel cold instead of holding you and skipping meals to avoid being with you.

For the first time in days, you get a good look at him: his hair has grown, as has the beard surrounding his face, he has terrible dark circles and the vein on his neck comes out prosperous, underlining how much he is screaming.

You felt abandoned, alone, left on the sidelines, and your feelings were amplified by the impossibility of going to someone, just to escape from that situation, to be held by someone else or just to talk over a coffee with a friend.

The only thing you could have done, was to ask him why, what you had done to deserve such treatment, and to spend some time together. And that’s where the scream started.

Tears roll down your face and you run your hand under your eyes to wipe them away. If you didn't notice them before, now the pinch caused by their wake has become hard to ignore.

“Are you going to cry now? God, you’re making me regret being with you. I really wish you weren’t born.”

Calum feels the pain it caused you before even reading the expression on your face. He puts his hand in front of his mouth in hopes of being able to block the words, but they have already left his lips and have come straight into your ears, getting stuck under your skin and breaking even the last pieces of the broken heart you have left.

His words hit you like a bolt from the blue. Arguing often leads to saying unthinkable words and among all the things you've been yelling at each other in the last hour, some bad words have certainly escaped, but nothing so terrible.

You feel a pain in your chest never felt before, deep and intense, and even the tears stop flowing. You inhale deeply, seeking relief in a breath of air and waiting for your body to react in any way, all is better than feeling full of pain. The room starts spinning, your head feels full and empty at the same time, and your legs struggle to bear the weight of your body.

Calum carefully scans your face, looking for any reaction from you to understand how much your mind has absorbed his words. His stress, his worries have led him to be a different person and the fear that you may leave him has terrified him, but his insecurities have done the opposite of what one expects, making he walk away from you and treating you coldly, and now he fears that he is really on the verge of being alone, with his broken heart in his hands, ready to mend every wound himself.

You didn’t deserve this.

“I can’t do this anymore. Not with you.” You whisper, lifting your face and looking him straight in the eye. The words he used, the coldness of his tones and the loneliness in which he left you have piled on top of each other on your chest, making it difficult for you to even breathe. You need time, space, whatever helps you figure out what to do.

“What do you mean?” He asks in a shaky voice. His eyes are glossy, his hands are shaking and his face has lost color. His heart carries so much goodness and you know it wasn't his intention to hurt you, but his words were like stab wounds and you need to take care of them now.

You don't want to leave, and not because you can't take a plane, but because Calum means too much to you and leaving is not an option to consider. If it ever ends up between you, after all you've been through, it should be in a more dignified way and not because of a stupid fight and insincere words.

“I’m going to sleep in the guest room for a while and then we’ll see what to do.” Is all you can say and all you can do.

“So you’re not leaving?”

“I don’t think so, at least not now.”

Silence.

And that silence means everything and nothing.

You pick up the pieces of your shattered heart and, after casting one last look at the boy in front of you, you take refuge in a room that doesn't belong to you. The air in the guest room is different, you can't breathe the love that characterizes every corner of yours and Calum's and even the sheets seem different, cold, painful. You put a hand through your hair and lean on the door, slowly sliding towards the floor and letting go of your frustration.

Calum closes his eyes and puts his hands to his face as his body slumps onto the sofa behind him. The house reigns in silence, the only audible sound is your sobs in another room and, before he knows it, he starts crying too. He doesn't care about wiping his face or stopping the moans that come out of his mouth, he deserves to feel awful and humiliate himself like that, the guilt is devouring him and he just thinks about how he wishes he could disappear, to make your life easier.

When you first met, he knew you were the right person from the first look you gave him. Behind your eyes, deep in the irises, there was a whole world, made of kindness, love and joy. You had your demons, but the strength you emanated made it clear that you were able to overcome them, even without knowing it. A world that he wanted to discover, with delicacy and patience, and in which he wanted to live.

But what he feared most was bringing darkness into the light you emanated, turning your smiles into tears and your heart into a mass of sharp pieces.

He had told you, while you were eating some heated pizza on a rainy morning, your legs were on his and your face on his shoulder. And you had caressed his face, wiping away the dirt on his lip with your thumb, assuring him that you would have love him anyway and that you would have happily shared some of your light, and then you had kissed him, and that kiss tasted like tomato sauce and love, a combination you still love with all your heart.

And now, the only thing he can do, besides pitying himself, is wondering if you're regretting sharing your joy with him, if you'd rather stay full of light instead of welcoming his demons. And he fears your answer is yes.

Duke rubs his face on his leg, asking for scratches but also showing his affection. He doesn't know what happened and Calum wonders if the dog, who loves you more than any other person has crossed the threshold of your home, would look at him differently knowing that he broke the heart of the person he loves most.

If so, as his mind is trying to convince him, he couldn't handle it. He would not be able to live knowing that he has let down another being he cares about. Because he cares about you, but it is difficult for him to show it, the fear of rejection is stronger than he would like.

So, he lowers himself a little and gently strokes the dog, hoping to be able to receive that affection he is so afraid of losing.

As Calum's world shatters before his eyes, you take care to gently reassemble what's left of yours. You're still on the floor, getting up takes too much energy and a motivation that you can't find.

How you feel about the guy down the hall cannot be described in words, there is no way to describe what his gaze makes you feel, the way his words reassure you or how his love warms your heart up. It just works like this. Your love does not need big gestures or difficult words and never like now, it is better to absorb the silence and be lulled by the air.

Perhaps it would have been better to remain silent, let the cold of his words slip on you and learn to live in the loneliness in which he left you, but you couldn't go on like this. Not fighting would have meant not caring about him or your relationship and that's exactly the opposite of how things are. He had to know how you felt and what you were missing.

The sweet sound of his voice or the warmth of his skin are essential for you, not only on a love level, but in the daily routine of your life. A routine that had changed, which was no longer full of joy and smiles, light and perfume, but of demons that wandered undeterred around the walls of your home, ready to bring the cold into your souls.

And that routine, once full of love, was now non-existent. No more words had been said between you, no meal had been eaten together and your bed had forgotten what love meant. The stars, ever present witnesses of the passion that surrounded your bodies, were now always absent, covered by gray clouds and black skies. Even the moon, which guards all lovers, shone with a paler and more blurred light.

The moon gave way to the sun, the grass grew and the days alternated on the calendar. And yet, it seemed to you that you were still still that afternoon. Sure, breathing had become less difficult and the tears had stopped flowing on your face, but even in the middle of spring the coldness brought chills on your body.

You have no idea what he is doing, occasionally you see the shadow of his shoes behind the door of the guest room or you hear broken melodies coming from the studio, but his face becomes more and more unknown.

You spend your days studying, working, playing with Duke or reading your favorite books. You wake up late and go to sleep early, hoping to feel less lonely.

The truth, however, is that you miss him immensely, like water in the desert or milk after eating spicy food. You need to be able to get lost in his eyes or just hold his hand. The headache meds don't work like his kisses on your forehead, and no number of blankets could bring you the same warmth that a hug from him gives off.

You feel so pathetic to need him by your side, but after so many years of loneliness, he was able to convince you that you were worthy of being loved just like everyone else and, specifically, that he would love you more than anyone else. And he had done it, always and anyway, for the sake of the joyful news and the bad of your depression, he had always been there, ready to show you that you were worth it.

He wants to do it, he wants to continue to hold you and to tell you how beautiful you are, how honored he feels to be the keeper of your heart and the champion of your love, but he believes that no apology would bring serenity to your sky.

What is he supposed to do? No words would express the humiliation he feels whenever he thinks back to your fight and his behavior, no hug or kiss would bring love into your broken heart.

He spent his nights awake, the insomnia caused by his thoughts was making it impossible for him to live. The table seemed too big and the bed too uncomfortable, the bass was always out of tune even as he spent hours adjusting its strings and no melody seemed catchy enough to lift your mood in the other room. He knew that when you were sick, listening to him play brought some peace to your troubled world, but now no sound would chase the bad weather away.

None of his gestures would be enough to show how bad he feels. Nothing can express the pain he feels and the regret of his words.

However, 3 years of relationship is enough for him to know what makes you smile. There is one song in particular, in the immense repertoire that is your music library, that you love to hum and listen to when the silence is too loud.

So, wearing his best shirt and trying to fix the clump of his hair, he sits down at the piano in the living room and, after taking a deep breath, he tries to voice his thoughts.

Sweet creature

Had another talk about where it's going wrong

But we're still young

We don't know where we're going

But we know where we belong

And oh we started

Two hearts in one home

It's hard when we argue

We're both stubborn

I know, but oh

As you put down your favorite book after reading it again, Calum's sweet, broken voice spreads throughout the house, bringing a sense of comfort to your heart. You can hear the pain behind his voice, and even though you know your wounds will take some time to heal, the words he screamed at you lose their value. One part of you is still angry but the other, curious and in love, wastes no time getting you out of bed and walking towards the room.

The piano overlooks the garden, the sun shines above and illuminates all the plants. Duke is chasing a butterfly, its tail wags quickly and some leaves are stuck in its fur. Calum has his back to you, his back leaning slightly forward as he looks outward, but his mind wanders somewhere else.

You lean on the door jamb that separates the two rooms and close your eyes, letting yourself be carried away by the music and breathing regularly, giving your body respite from all the accumulated stress.

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home

Sweet creature

We're running through the garden

Oh, where nothing bothered us

But we're still young

I always think about you and how we don't speak enough

Calum watches the garden as the lyrics of the song automatically come out of his mouth. He was never good at playing the piano but, during the nights spent away from you over the years, he promised himself to learn all your favorite songs so he could sing them to you whenever you needed them.

And while Duke rolls around in the grass, he can't help but think about the thousand picnics you had on that same lawn, the laughter you shared and all those moments when he always fell in love a little more looking at you.

And even if the song doesn't belong to him, he can still feel every single word and a small tear falls down his face.

And oh we started

Two hearts in one home

I know, it's hard when we argue

We're both stubborn

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home

You take a few steps forward and, after taking a deep sigh, sit next to him. Calum winces at the contact but his face turns into a big smile after seeing you. He doesn't know if you're still mad at him or if his singing worked, but being able to see you again after so many days spent in agony brings a sense of peace to his messed up world. He knows that this song is not enough, that he will have to prove a lot more to you - even if you will probably forbid it - but knowing that he has you there, frees him from a weight that he carried inside.

And as usual, there is no need for words, he just needs to feel your head resting on his shoulder to know that you have come back to him. And when your hands touch his, he feels at home again.

Almost automatically, your hands begin to move to the rhythm of the music and your fingers touch the keys of the piano, accompanying Calum in the melody, just as he taught you.

Duke is rolling in the grass, the butterfly now forgotten, and his happy face is illuminated by the sun. It seems that the sky has returned to shine too, not just your eyes, and the pieces of the puzzle fit together perfectly again.

I know when we started

Just two hearts in one home

It gets harder when we argue

We're both stubborn

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home

You'll bring me home

There was no need to talk to him, or to explain, risking losing you was necessary for him to understand that something was wrong, that he had to find the right path, that you can risk skidding, the important thing is getting back on track.

“I am grateful to your mother for bringing you into the world, but even more grateful to you for being a part of my life. I'm sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it. I love you and I always will.” He whispers, placing his hands on his thighs, as soon as he finishes singing the last words. His words are sincere, you can perceive the displeasure behind his tone and you know he believes what he says.

He kisses you on the forehead and, taking your hand in his and squeezing it, he rests his face on your head, closing his eyes and absorbing the silence, a cautious silence, full of peace and fresh air.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, closing your eyes in turn and letting yourself be lulled by the peace and serenity found. You know that everything will be fine, that even if you’ll have other fights, you will always find a way to get back to each other.

-

[clareguilty]

The Naked Thing

Hello! I was dying without air conditioning a few weeks ago and decided to make it Mando Smut Mandalorian/f!reader Rating: Explicit | No Warnings Word Count: ~2900

The Crest falls out of hyperspace too soon, and you go flying. Curling around Grogu in your arms, you twist in midair so that your back hits the console to avoid crushing him. A lever digs into your spine, and you curse loudly. That’s going to bruise. Oh well. What’s another?

“What the kriff, Mando?” you snarl. Grogu seems unbothered, blinking at you and probably learning way too many swear words for a child of his size.

Mando pulls himself off the control grid with a pained groan, helmet swiveling as he takes in the damage.

“The good news,” he begins after a moment, “is that we lost them.”

That is good news, you agree. You were lucky that the army of bounty hunters and ex-imps hadn’t kept track of you. If you had shaken them off your trail, then that would earn you a head start to a safer system.

“The bad news is that they shot out our hyperdrive.”

“Dank Farrik,” you curse again, then glance at Grogu. Maybe you should watch your mouth more?

“...And our temperature regulator and our heat shields.”

You decide that it is an appropriate time for as much foul language as you please.

“What does that mean?” you ask. You hadn’t grown up around ships -- spent the last dozen years on the same dead-end planet until Mando picked you up. The most you were good for was turning a knob or flipping a switch here and there. Usually you just kept an eye on Grogu while Mando did all the piloting and bounty hunting and whatnot.

“We’ll have to travel sublight, but we can’t land planet side because without the heat shields any atmosphere worth a damn would burn us up. Our only option is a New Republic Outpost. We’ll be able to land there, and we’ll be safe while they repair the Crest. I’ll chart us a course and let you know how long it should be.”

“You know,” you snap, “we wouldn’t be in this mess if you weren’t so scared of droids. If we had an astromech on board, then we could get the hyperdrive repaired without having to crawl our asses through deep space in the hopes that whoever picks us up doesn’t want us dead.”

Mando doesn’t say anything. You don’t know if your words meant anything at all to him because you can’t see shit behind his helmet. Huffing, you take Grogu down to the hold. Not long after, the engines fire up again.

It takes a few minutes to set in, but its quick enough to be noticeable. The ship is getting hotter. Like… unbearably warm.

You fill a canteen with water and make sure that you and Grogu are both hydrated. After a little bit of digging, you manage to find a portable air circulator. You and Grogu sit directly in front of the current, doing your best to keep cool.

Mando comes down after a little while, he cocks his helmet when he sees you.

“It’s hot,” you whine.

“The temperature regulator is shot too. We don’t have a way too cool the ship down or shield the heat of the engines.”

You sigh. “How long until we can get repairs?”

“34 hours. Will the kid be okay for that long?”

Grogu hasn’t outwardly complained about the heat, mostly just sitting in front of the circulator with his eyes closed and ears flapping, but you’ve been worried as well. “He’s kind of… amphibious,” you frown. “I’ll get him a basin of water to sit in and put him in the fresher with the circulator. That should keep him cooled off.”

Mando nods. “Thank you. Will you be okay?”

You shrug. There’s not much you can do. As long as you stay hydrated then you should be able to last 34 hours.

“Thank you,” he says again.

“For what?” All you’ve done is curse at him and berate him for not having an astromech droid.

“For looking out for him back there. You saved all of us with that droid popper. And the move with the cannon was impressive.”

You aren’t expecting genuine praise from Mando. It always felt as though you were dead weight to him. Through all the planets you’ve been on -- and been chased off of -- you’ve always felt useless.You can’t fly, you’re not the best shot, you can barely take care of his kid. It means a lot that he doesn’t actually hate you. 

“I’m starting to get the hang of this,” you grin. You had never considered yourself a hero or adventurer, but you had commandeered a cannon and shot down three imperial fighters.

“I’ll be up in the cockpit if you need anything. Just knock.” And he’s gone.

‘Knock’ means that Mando is probably going to take his helmet and armor off, which means you also get a few hours of total privacy. You set Grogu up in the fresher with a basin of water and the circulator -- though it pains you to give up the weak, artificial breeze.

It’s only gotten hotter, and your already filthy clothes are starting to became unbearable. You had gotten splashed with gore and grime and who knows what in your escape, and it wasn’t pairing well with the heat onboard.

Stripping out of your clothes, you sprawl naked on the metal floor. It’s dusty, but slightly cool, and you plaster as much of your skin to the durasteel as you can manage.

Time passes with you systematically rolling across the floor of the hold to try and keep from baking. It’s bearable only because you know there will be an end. As long as the ship keeps chugging along towards the space outpost, then you will be saved.

The hatch to the cockpit opens, and you leap to your feet. Mando clambers down, jumping when he sees you.

“You’re naked,” he raises his hands -- his bare hands -- and backs against the ladder.

“You’re naked.” you point.

“I have a helmet and pants on,” he says. But that’s all he has on. His chest and arms are bare, and it’s more skin than you’ve ever seen before on the man.

“I’ve never seen you out of your armor. That has got to be more scandalous than me being naked.”

You must have made a point, because Mando doesn’t respond. Instead, you both just kind of… stand there. You can’t tear your eyes away from his chest and from the angle his helmet is pointed it seems he’s having a similar issue.

“Did you, uh, need anything?” you finally manage to ask. Your mouth is dry, and you take another uncoordinated drink from the canteen, shivering as some of the water spills down your chest.

Mando coughs. “I just wanted to make sure the kid is okay.”

“Oh,” you turn to open the fresher door just a crack. You had checked on him just a few minutes ago, and he still seems fine. After a moment of pause, Mando comes up behind you and you can feel the heat of his skin against your back.

Grogu is asleep, curled up just in front of the circulator and the basin of water so that the cool air blows over him. The fresher is several degrees cooler than the rest of the ship, and while it feels amazing, you don’t want to let the heat in.

“I’m going to go back up now,” Mando says quickly, and then he’s gone through the hatch once again.

You resume your circuit of laying on the floor, but it feels like the ship is only getting hotter.

That’s when you take to banging on the hatch to the cockpit. “Mando, I’m going to kick your ass! You had better get us to that outpost or find a way too cool this ship down! I spent years on Tatooine, and this is the hottest I have ever been in my entire life!”

“I can cut the engines to stop generating any heat, but then we’ll just be coasting through empty space and we’ll never make it to the outpost.”

You huff. “At this point you should just freeze me in carbonite.”

Mando does not freeze you in carbonite, but you do eventually make it to the New Republic outpost. They give the three of you a small dorm and Mando arranges for the Razor Crest to be repaired. You don’t have any credits between you, so you wonder what he offers in exchange.

You toss your gear into the room and head out to get food for everyone. You always enjoy being in New Republic space. No one is out to murder you or imprison you. The officers are usually nicer. Everyone likes the Skywalkers.

A friendly droid loads you up with several plates of food, and you stop to check out the holonet broadcasts on your way back. Things in this corner of the galaxy are a little hectic -- something you just witnessed firsthand -- but its less gloomy than it used to be.

Mando is sitting on the lower bunk when you get back. He’s back in his full armor, but you can read his posture pretty well. Grogu is playing in the corner, levitating some rocks you had found for him a few planets back. You set the tray down, fully intending to take your portion and eat out in the hall or in one of the communal sitting rooms. Before you can even turn away, Mando has already grabbed a plate of food and tugged his helmet off.

“WOAH,” you raise your hands in front of your face, ducking your head before you can see too much. Curly hair. Tan skin. Moustache. If there is one thing you’ve learned, it’s that Mando doesn’t let anyone see him without his helmet. It’s a cultural thing, and you respect that. “What is with you being naked today?”

Your eyes are open, but very pointedly looking at a wall nowhere near him. He shifts for a moment, and you wait for some kind of explanation.

“Look,” he finally begins, “we’ve been through a lot together at this point. I’ve traveled with you longer than anyone since I was a foundling with the watch. You’ve saved my life as well as Grogu’s many times, and we just survived one hell of a fight. Not to mention, I saw, um, all of you today. I figure it’s only fair.”

You’re touched. It’s an honor that Mando trusts you enough to remove his helmet. For as long as you have been travelling together, you’ve assumed that you care for him far more than he cares for you. “You don’t have to,” you say. “I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“I trust you,” he repeats.

You turn to face him. His eyes are so soft. Tired and kind and the warmest brown. He stares at you, taking you in for the first time with his own eyes and not the visor in his helmet. It’s unreasonably intimate considering he was staring at you naked with the helmet on just 16 hours before.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of cute?” you laugh and look away, smoothing your hands over your pants. There’s food in front of you, and you use that as a welcome distraction.

“I’ve never trusted anyone enough before now to see me.”

How can he just say things like that? You try to drown the rapid beating of your heart behind some kind of bitter vegetable.

Mando begins to eat as well, slowly and unsurely. He picks at a few different dishes before finally speaking again. “You’ve, uh- I mean… you’re beautiful as well.”

You laugh loudly at that. It’s so shy. This man had seen you overheated and completely naked lying on the floor of his ship. You roll your eyes and shoot him a wink. “Something you like in particular?”

Mando chokes, coughing for a minute before chugging down half a glass of green jelly juice. He finally regains his composure, but his voice is rough when he speaks again. “I’d say the best view was from behind.”

It’s the last thing you expect from him. He’s so shy and reserved and has always backed down from your defensive teasing. It’s a moment before you can pull yourself together. Still, you aren’t sure what to say. Instead, you cram some shredded raw crustacean in your mouth and hope you aren’t too flushed.

Mando offers to take the trays back. The dorm bathroom has a shower with running water and you intend to take full advantage. Grogu rolls a rock at your feet as you head into the bathroom, and you lightly kick it back to him. “Are you tired of putting up with us yet? You’ve been a baby longer than I’ve been alive. I bet we seem like idiots to you.”

Grogu, predictably, says nothing. He makes a raspberry noise with his lips and plops down into a sit.

The shower is one of the greatest gifts you’ve ever enjoyed in life. Hot water, high pressure, steam and soap. You take your time washing up and letting the jets work out all of the kinks in your muscles.

When you slide the stall door aside, Mando is standing at the sink. Helmetless. Shirtless.

He jumps slightly, staring at the floor as you step out of the shower. 

“We have got to stop doing this naked thing,” you say. It doesn’t actually bother you. You like that Mando trusts you, and you’ve never been shy about being naked around others, but he’s too attractive and it drives you nuts.

“I rather enjoy it,” he manages to pull his gaze from the floor to shoot you a wink. Your pulse speeds up.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Mando,” you step forward. You’re still steaming from the shower and dripping wet. He’s never been this cheeky before, and you kind of enjoy it.

His gaze darkens, eyebrows rasing. He reaches out to grab your waist, pulling you in and pinning you against the sink. You gasp at the feeling of his skin on yours, leaning back as he crowds you against the basin.

“Grogu is napping,” he whispers.

“I think the shower will fit both of us,” you breathe.

He’s already working at the buckle of his pants, toeing out of his boots. You drag him back into the shower with you. The jets hit his back, and he melts a little. You wrap your hand around his cock, and he looks like he may collapse. His eyes flutter shut, one of his hands slamming against the wall by your head.

You lean in to brush your lips over his skin as you stroke his cock. You’d never even seen this man’s face before today, and now you’re kissing your way over his jaw and down his neck. His other hand grabs your ass, kneading the flesh and pulling you closer so your hips brush his.

Your thumb swipes over the tip of his cock, and he shudders. It happens so fast, you didn’t know he had spun you around until your cheek is against the shower wall. His hands are glue to your hips, digging into your ass and pulling you to him so he can grind his cock against your slick skin.

“Please,” you whine. You haven’t had sex with anyone since you began travelling with Mando, and opportunities to get yourself off come few and far between with three of you on the Crest. You’re desperately horny, and you’ve wanted to fuck this man since you found him in that godforsaken desert.

He lines himself up and drives his hips forward, sinking into you with one solid thrust. You bite your forearm to muffle your moans, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch.

“You good?” he asks, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. 

“Move,” you say, demanding but desperate.

It takes a moment to find leverage in the tiny -- smaller than you first assumed -- shower stall, but Mando begins to fuck you at a steady pace. You reach down to rub your clit, clenching around him. You’re going to finish quicker than you’re used to -- probably because you’ve been turned on since you saw Mando shirtless on the crest.

From the way Mando’s hips twitch and his rhythm falters, you guess that he’s close to coming as well.

His hands are everywhere. Your hips, your ass, trailing over your stomach and and reaching up to squeeze your breasts. His fingers brush your throat and you nearly come from the touch alone. He feels the way you tighten around his cock and places a hand on your neck, squeezing your jaw between his thumb and forefinger.

You come so hard your knees give out and your vision goes white. Mando keeps you from collapsing in a bruised heap on the shower floor by simply continuing to fuck you until he comes as well.

It’s not a lot of space, so you’re slumped together under the spray of the water. You manage to wipe yourself clean in a few swipes and stagger back out so Mando can actually wash up. He’s much quicker than you were, and he’s out of the shower by the time you’ve finished rubbing scented moisturizer over your skin. The New Republic sure knew how to treat their guests.

“I think we should definitely keep doing the naked thing,” he grins.

[book-boys-are-my-guilty-pleasure]

A Stark and her Soldier ~ Part 1

Imagine: Reuniting with Bucky when you end up helping Sam with the Flag Smashers.

Warnings: TFATWS SPOILERS! This takes place during the first two episodes of the show.

A/N: I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’M BACK (with a new header lol)!!! AHHHHHHHH! It’s been nearly two years but here I am… posting this makes me SO nervous, so feedback would be highly appreciated! More parts and some information about what I’m planning with this blog to follow soon! 

“You held us together – do it for them,” he paused before adding, “Promise me you’ll do it for them.”

You blinked away the tears, knowing what was coming, “I can’t promise that...”

“Y/N please,” the way he begged you with that shaking voice was nearly enough to push you over the edge.

“I-I promise.” He squeezed your hand before letting you leave.

“You’ve reached James Barnes, sorry I couldn’t take your call, please –” you hung up before the recorded message could continue, face burning with frustration. This was the 9th time you had tried calling him this week, not to mention the countless text messages.

You scoffed thinking of Steve’s last words to you, how were you supposed to hold them together when you barely held yourself together on a good day? It doesn’t make it any easier when the person you’re supposed to be holding together is so keen on letting himself fall apart.  

Every time you tried calling him, you ended up feeling furious, miserable, or like an absolute failure – usually all three. You promised Steve, you promised, and you failed. You groaned and chucked your phone across your bed.

The last time you had seen him, Steve had still been around, and you hadn’t even spoken to him since Tony’s funeral.

 You and Pepper had walked to the lake, each holding one of Morgan’s hands, and you had sat at the dock watching the arc reactor – his heart – float away, the people behind you forgotten in your grief. The weight on your heart was unbelievable, you had already lost your best friend, Natasha, and now your brother was gone.

You promised him that you wouldn’t cry at his funeral – he always knew it was inevitable – and so you sat there, sending him away with a pained smile.

You had no idea how long you had just sat there, staring at the horizon across the lake, trying to make this last moment with your brother last forever.

“Y/N?” You felt a hand squeezing your shoulder, “You should come back inside.”

“What happens now, Steve?” Your voice was softer than he had ever heard before.

“I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out together,” he paused for a moment before gesturing to Bucky, waiting outside the house behind him, “He wants to talk to you.”

You gave Bucky a small smile, “Hey.”

He walked over and dropped down next to you, Steve leaving the two of you to chat, “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” You nodded solemnly.

He added, “For everything, Y/N… he probably wouldn’t even have wanted me here, but –”

You shook your head and took his hand, heart fluttering at the contact. You had always been attracted to him, and it had only grown with every interaction. “That wasn’t you.”

You knew your brother never blamed Bucky, you all knew how it felt to have people mess with your heads and Bucky had had the worst of it. He was furious at Steve for years, but never at Bucky – you could never bring yourself to be angry with either of them, not after the stories you grew up with. Your father had adored the soldiers and you had been one of their biggest fans, and later one of Steve’s closest friends.

There had come a point after the battle between Tony and Steve when you had become sick of all the back and forth. You were lucky enough to find an escape when T’Challa got in touch with you, offering you a chance to come to Wakanda and learn about their technology – you weren’t ashamed to admit that you were the one who contacted him to beg for it. You hadn’t known that Bucky was already there. Slowly but surely, the two of you found comfort in one another and became good friends.  

He gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “You should head inside, it’s getting late – I’ll see you again soon.”

He stayed true to that statement, the two of you stood with Sam and Bruce, waiting for Steve to come back after returning the stones – only to have him shatter your hearts.

You only saw Bucky in passing after that, occasionally visiting Steve at the same time – you never said a word to him, beyond a smile or a wave, and then you stopped seeing him all together. You tried, for the sake of your promise to Steve, but he never answered your calls or texts.

“We’ll figure it out together, right, thanks a lot Steve,” You muttered.

You jumped at the sound of your phone ringing, and your shoulders sank a bit when you saw Sam’s name flashing across the screen, “Hey.”

“He’s doing an interview,” You knew exactly who Sam was talking about, “Good Morning America.”

Your stomach turned, “That’s the last thing I want to see.”

“I know, I just thought I’d share my joy with someone,” Sam chuckled, “Any luck with Bucky?”

“I’m just wasting my time at this point,” You could feel the tears returning to your eyes as you said it.

“Hey, come on now, he’ll come around, he just needs some time.”

“Right…”

“Listen, I called because we have a lead, wanna join?”

“Please.”

“I hate it, his stupid face plastered on every wall, it feels like he’s mocking us.”

“Don’t you start, Y/N.”

“Seriously Sam, I get that he’s the new Cap – the fake Cap, but don’t you think that this,” You gestured to the posters around you, “is excessive?”

“It-”

“Shouldn’t have given up the shield.” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice and your face heated up with anger, you hadn’t realized it was possible to feel such contrasting emotions at the same time, but here you were. You noted that his voice was a bit hoarse and wondered if he had been sick.

“Good to see you too, Buck.”

“This is wrong.”

“So is pushing away everyone who cares about you.” He finally looked at you and you saw shame glistening in those steel blue eyes.

He said nothing before turning back to Sam, “You didn’t know that was gonna happen?”

Wow, ignoring your calls was one thing, but outright ignoring you while you stood in front of him, that caused a different kind of hurt.

You stood in silence as Sam explained where the two of you were headed, trying to push away the pounding in your head, and suddenly, you found yourself in a jet sitting next to Bucky.

“You could have answered, even once. Could’ve at least let me know that you were still alive.”

“I know,” Was all he said.

“We were friends once,” Nothing, “and I still care for you.”

“I know.”

“Four months, a full four months and I didn’t hear a single word from you, I’m going to need more than ‘I know’.”

He sighed, “I’m sorry.”

You could tell that he meant it and didn’t know what more to say, so you got up and headed towards the open door of the plane, “I’ll catch you boys on the ground.”

You watched Sam follow, and considered helping Bucky as he fell through the trees, but you decided against it. He hurt your feelings and now you could call it even.

Super soldiers? How on earth were there more super soldiers?! You didn’t have much time to ponder on the thought as you got kicked in the face by one of them and fell off the semi – definitely should have let Tony make you a helmet like he insisted.

You flew back up only to see him dropping out of a helicopter, Fake Cap, fuck.

“Looks like you guys could use some help,” Your blood boiled at the sight of his cocky grin.

You weren’t winning, and you weren’t stupid enough to continue trying, let Steve’s knock-off take care of it.

You flew off just in time to see Bucky lying on top of Sam, the latter groaned in displeasure.

“Hey, can you gentlemen save the PDA for later?” You joked, earning a glare from both of them.

With the adrenaline slowly draining from your system, the pain from the blows you took started to set in, making you dread the trek in front of you. As if on cue, you heard a horn honking and Fake Cap pulled up next to you, “It’s 20 miles to the airport, you guys need a ride.”

“I think we’re good,” You simply stated.

“You won’t make it with that limp.”

You gave him a crude smile, “I’d rather crawl.”  

They stopped and opened the door, you exchanged a look with Sam and Bucky, silently deciding to join them.

You sat between Bucky and Sam, and felt the anger and disgust radiating off of both of them with every word that was exchanged.

“Y/N Stark,” You despised the way he said your last name, like he wanted to devour you, “You are one of the original seven, I trust you know the importance of having a strong team. I’d suggest giving a word or two of advice to your friends here.”

“Did you really just compare being on a team with you two, to being on a team with the Avengers?” You glowered at him, “A word of advice Walker, you’re not Steve, you might be holding that shield, but you will never be half the Captain America that he was. So quit fucking pretending.”  

“I didn’t realize Stark’s sister had such a mouth on her,” He smirked, he knew exactly what he was doing and as much as you hated to admit it, it was working, “Vicious.”

“Go to hell.”

The ride didn’t last very long after that, and you had no complaints when Bucky demanded them to stop the car.

You opened your eyes and rolled over to see Sam still asleep on the seats across from you, and Bucky was sitting on the large crate in the middle of the jet, “Not tired?”

“Nah,” He shook his head.

You pushed yourself to your feet and hopped up next to him, “You’d think they’d make those seats a bit more comfortable considering the amount of time we spend on these things.”

He chuckled and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. After a considerable pause he turned to you, “Y/N, I meant what I said earlier, I’m sorry.”

The dark bags under his eyes were a stark contrast from the beautiful blue that you were looking into, which you noted which had lost its luster. You noticed that his voice still had a bit of that hoarseness from earlier in the day, and the dots connected. You remembered how hoarse your voice used to get when you’d wake up screaming from the nightmares after particularly rough missions. You understood why he was awake, he didn’t want you and Sam to see him like that.

You nodded, “I know, I just wish – I was worried sick about you. I know it hasn’t been easy for you Buck, but we were good friends once and I miss you.”

“I wanted to call, it’s just been tough,” He admitted, and you reached over to take his hand, only to quickly pull away as Sam woke up.

“You two okay?”

“Yeah,” You both said. You wondered if Bucky’s super soldier ability allowed him to hear the way your heartbeat picked up from that brief touch.

Your mind was racing a million miles a minute, you had barely kept the tears in listening to Isaiah’s story, both out of anger and sadness. How? How did this happen? How was this man tortured, then brushed under the rug? How did no one know about it? Why the hell did Bucky keep this from you?

Sam mirrored your pained expression, but something darker lurked beneath his eyes, you couldn’t even imagine the rage he felt. The sound of a police siren pulled you out of your thoughts.

Your anger only grew at the argument that ensued, “I am calm, what do you want? We’re just standing here talking.”

“Just give him your ID,” You glared at Bucky as the words left his mouth.

“Why the hell should he? He didn’t do anything wrong!” You growled, at the same time Sam said, “I’m not giving him shit, we were just talking.”

“Hey, hey, look, is this guy bothering you?” The officer asked you and Bucky. Your eyes widened, he can’t be serious right now.

“No, he’s not bothering us, do you know who this is?!”

You couldn’t even stand to look at the guy as his jaw dropped in shock upon realizing who Sam was, you felt your body shake with anger, and you didn’t even want to think what would have happened if Sam hadn’t been an Avenger.

The officer returned from his vehicle and turned the tables, announcing that there was a warrant out for Bucky’s arrest.

Watching him being handcuffed and put into the car shattered your heart, if the events of the day hadn’t already left you feeling nauseous, you knew this would be the nail in the coffin. All you could see was Bucky on his knees with a gun to his head nearly seven year ago when Steve barely prevented T’Challa from killing him and the four of you had been arrested – Tony had been furious with you, but it was the shame in Bucky’s eyes that had hurt you the most, and here you were, witnessing it again.

You reached over a grabbed Sam’s hand and squeezed as hard as you could, desperate for a lifeline to keep you from sinking into those painful memories.

You maintained that same grip on the poor man’s hand as you sat at the police station waiting for Bucky to be bailed out, “Sam, Y/N, I’ve heard a lot about you two, I’m Dr. Raynor, I’m James’ therapist.”

The two of you shook her hand and Sam thanked her for getting Bucky out.

“That was not me –”

“Christina!” You’d recognize that voice anywhere from the way it made your skin crawl, fuck, “Good to see you again.”

You clenched your jaw to keep yourself from punching the stupid grin off of his face as he pointed to himself when Dr. Raynor asked him who authorized Bucky’s release. You knew you had a problem with constantly wanting to punch people in the face, it was a trait that ran in the family, but Walker’s face was definitely one of the most punchable ones you had seen – a good ol’ pop in the jaw wouldn’t hurt, right? Just one?

“He’s too valuable of an asset to have him tied up –”

That was it, that was all you were willing to hear, you couldn’t stop yourself from getting in his face and hissing, “Call him that again, and I swear to god Walker, I –”

Sam put his arm around you, hand pressed to your stomach and pulled you back, “Y/N.”

Walker simply smirked and turned back to Raynor, “Do what you have to do and send him off to me. Got some unfinished business, him and I, you too Wilson, and bring your guard dog with you.”

It took everything in your power to keep from snarling at him.  

“James, condition of your release, session now,” The doctor ordered, “You two as well.”

“I’m good, I’ve been to enough therapy,” You shook your head, at the same time Sam said, “That’s okay, I’ll be out here with –”

“That wasn’t a request,” You couldn’t help but chuckle, and decided that you liked this woman.

You and Sam sat on either side of Bucky, facing Dr. Raynor as she got started. You couldn’t help but notice the way Bucky’s eyes shifted and jaw clenched as Sam tried to weasel his way out of the session, and your chest tightened. He looked so tired, and not just the ‘hasn’t slept in a few days’ tired, but more like he was tired of trying – he looked broken.

You decided in that moment that you would try, and not just for Steve, but for the man next to you who had held a piece of your heart before he even knew you, and managed steal that piece away when you had met him years later.

You realized how hard you’d have try when Bucky answered Dr. Raynor’s question with, “In my miracle, he would talk less.”

“Exactly what I was gonna say, isn’t that ironic?” You sighed, so hard.

She turned to you, mimicking the expression on your face, “Y/N, can I trust you to give me a proper answer?”

Try, Y/N, try. You saw a glimmer of hope in Raynor’s eyes as they met yours, but you simply shrugged and looked away, unable to bring yourself to open up, and she let her shoulders fall slightly.

“You guys are leaving me with no choice. It’s time for the soul-gazing exercise. Y/N, you can sit this one out, you get along with both of them well enough.”

You rolled your eyes at the reactions from the boys, this’ll be good. You couldn’t help but chuckle as they got closer to one another, maybe I should have taken part in this exercise. They made eye contact and continued to hold it, you realized what they were doing moments before the doctor did and let out a genuine laugh – earning a glare from Raynor, don’t encourage them she seemed to say.

“James, why does Sam aggravate you? And don’t say something childish.” Your head filled with a hundred different ideas about what stupid things Bucky would come up with, only to have them fizzle away at his cheeky grin towards the doctor, followed by the lick of his lip. It left your throat dry. Snap out of it, Y/N, what’s gotten into you?

He paused for a moment, his expression changing, and turned back to Sam, “Why’d you give of that shield?”

You held your breath, you knew this was going to come up, but weren’t expecting it here. You couldn’t take your eyes off of Bucky, noticing every change in his face, it becoming more pained with every word that left his mouth, and your chest tightening alongside it, until finally, “So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me.”

The break in his voice cracked your heart into a million pieces. You looked up, trying to keep the tears swimming in your eyes from falling. You turned your attention towards Sam and noticed the emotion behind his glassy eyes – it was different than anything you had seen in him before, it was almost as though you could see the burden he was carrying on his shoulders, the pressure that was pushing him in every direction.

I have to fix this, you told yourself, you couldn’t stand to see them like this, I have to try.  

Your mind was roaring with thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed that Sam and Bucky had left until Raynor asked, “What would be in your miracle, Y/N?”

You snapped your head towards her, then to the door, you weighed your options and headed towards the latter. You grabbed the handle and stopped, without turning towards her you whispered, “I’d find a home again, and they’d find some happiness.”

You pulled the door open, “Y/N, I don’t think those two things have to be separate.”

Her words swam in your head until you found Bucky and Sam walking outside, Walker and Hoskins storming off in the other direction.

“What’s that all about?”

“Walker being Walker,” Sam shrugged.

“So, what now?”

“Bucky wants to talk to Zemo,” Every memory that you spent years trying to forget came flooding back: Zemo using those words to turn Bucky into the Winter Soldier, who then proceeded to trash the compound and nearly kill you and your friends; watching your family fight each other at the airport and being forced to pick a side; watching the footage of your parents dying; desperately begging your brother and the man who had become your brother not to kill one another.

“You what?!” You gasped.

“Y/N –”

You stepped between the two of them, close enough to Bucky that you had to tilt your head up to look into his eyes, and whispered, “Bucky, no.”

“This might be our only lead, Y/N,” You stared up at him, silently pleading him, he reflected the same in his own, “Please Y/N.”

He took your hand and you instantly melted, “I – fine, but promise me you will be careful.”

“I promise.”

End. 

Read Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 and Part 6

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[yoongsisbae]

Handshakes of a Lifetime - Chapter 6

BTS soulmate AU. OT7 x reader / Taehyung x reader focused in this chapter, slight Jungkook x reader and Namjoon x reader

Usually by the time I finish a chapter, I will have a nice chunk of the next chapter done, when I finished chapter 5 I had TWO SENTENCES FOR THIS CHAPTER cries, ugh this was a journey lol but I had fun along the way :). Also, I wanted to shoutout @missseoulite I remember having a really bad day when I saw your sweet comment about being eager for the new chap and just knowing someone cared enough to wish me safety and care about my well being, well it meant a lot to me, so this chapter is dedicated to you my dear!!!! <3

Word count: 10.3k

Warnings: death, mention of a suicide, if you’re like me and don’t like to think about being old this chapter might trigger an existential crisis lol, cheating, men being sexist, angst but also fluffiness, sex with Taehyung, breeding kink, a character calls you and Tae children but you are two very grown adults I just wanted to make that super duper clear.

---

“I want to try, I think it would be worth it, you’ll be worth it.”

‘Why did he have to say that,’ you wince, looking over at the idol. He is beautiful, way out of your league, above you in every way, and he’s looking back at you like his whole world hangs in the balance. How could you reject him now. You groan.

You stand up. You place your palm in front of his face, your fingers splayed out, you can see his wide excited eyes in the gaps between them. You look at him expectantly. Taehyung nods, places his palm to yours, interlocking your fingers together.

Your heart thumps wildly as darkness fills the room. You open your eyes once you hear the familiar voice of your husband call out to you, “No need to fret anymore, my beloved. I’m here now.” Taehyung’s hand covers your old and frail fingers. You lie in your bed, body tired and weathered from all the years you’ve spent on this earth.

Your eyes roam over the room, taking in all the faces of your beautiful children and grandchildren. The pain in your tired joints fades as you focus on the man you’ve only grown to love more in all the years you’ve been together. It’s because of him you’ve lived a fulfilled life full of love. With him by your side you’re ready now.

You look up from your crouched position, the flowers you’ve picked lie fresh and pretty in your basket. You look to the dirt path where a man is running towards you. ‘What is a man doing here of all places?’ you think.

He comes to a stop once he sees you, hands on his knees as he gasps for breath. He looks young and beautiful, though his robes are askew and torn and his face glistens as sweat drips from his chin. You almost decide to ignore him and go back to your duties until you notice the red lines that peak from the uncovered parts of his torso. The cuts look painful. You hesitate, “Do you need some assistance?”

“Don’t mind me, fair maiden,” his breathing is still heavy as he speaks. He looks around, taking in his surroundings. ‘What is he looking for?’ you wonder. You can tell he is trying to hide his panic, but it comes through in his tense movements and jittery eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

Four men on horse approach you. You notice they are soldiers by the gold plates that cover their body. You hold the flower basket a little tighter to your chest. The first soldier speaks, “Have you seen a man come through this way?”

“You’re the only men I’ve seen for days.”

You feel their lewd stares on you, your stomach churns from the unwanted attention. One soldier dismounts his horse and stalks closer to you. “A pretty little thing like you wouldn’t dare lie to us?” he questions.

“I swear on goddess Athena.” You stand still and look to the ground as he invades your space. The soldier brings a calloused hand to your chin to make you look at him, his companions snickering at your discomfort.

“For days? You must be lonely, poor sweet thing you are.” The other soldiers dismount and circle you. You try to keep your face neutral from the disgust you feel as their eyes rake over your body.

“It is as I said,” your eyes shift to the marble walls of the temple behind you. “I would not lie in Athena’s name, I am protected by her watch.” You emphasize your last words, keeping your limbs close and suppressing your instincts to fight and draw this encounter out any longer than need be.

The men look over to the temple and begin to move closer to the entrance. You follow after them, dropping your basket and letting the flowers scatter into the dirt in your haste.

“No men shall enter, unless you want to face the wrath of the goddess herself,” you yell from behind them. The men laugh. You find the courage to pull at the leader’s armour to cease his advancing. “You will be cursed if you go in there, sir!”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide as he hides underneath the blanket you’ve covered him in. He removes his hand from the temple’s wall, and brings his knees up and off the floor, trying to touch as little as possible of his surroundings.

The men scoff at your words, the leader shoves you away but does not advance any closer. You’ve taken up enough of their time, and they need to find this criminal before The Queen bestows her own kind of punishment upon them.

“Be careful, girl. There is a dangerous man fleeing prosecution, pray to your Goddess we find him before you do.” You find their warning quite ironic as you watch the leader kick your basket. You assume in an attempt to be intimidating, but in your opinion it makes him look more like a petulant child, your brow ticks in annoyance.

Only when they are completely out of your sight do you let go of the breath you were holding. You run into the temple, crashing into the stranger as he runs out.

“I’m sorry!” He exclaims, his hands grabbing onto you to keep you from falling. Electricity zips through you as you both break away stunned. You rub at your arms to take away your goosebumps. The stranger lowers the hand that clutched at his chest, his wide eyes looking at you in question.

“Is it true? A curse is the last thing I need right now!” he laments. You giggle. The soldiers called this man dangerous?

“The rules say no man is to enter, yes.” His horrified expression makes you laugh even more. “But...they are more like guidelines,” you assure him. “Enough temple priestesses have brought their fair share of men back and nothing too sinister has happened yet, by the gods.”

It does little to lessen his worry. He looks at you skeptically. “I thought Athena’s priestesses were supposed to stay virginal in honor of the goddess’s protection.”

“Oh,” you offer him a smile, “that is her protection. It is perception that protects us.”

You eye the man, his features are sharp, striking; almost intimidating; but his aura is quite soft. “...protects us from men. In this world there are very few true heroes, I’m afraid most only live inside songs.”

He looks at you in understanding. “My apologies, you had to deal with those soldiers alone. I couldn’t do anything to defend you.” He winces at the thought, “For you to have shielded me instead, I thank you.” He offers you a deep bow and you feel butterflies dance in your chest.

“Can I ask as to why you’re running?”

He looks to the direction he came, unable to meet your eyes. “Ahh, well...I am in poor favor with The Queen.”

Your eyes widen, you’ve heard rumors of her beauty even in the remoteness of your area, and even more of her kingdom’s hedonism. The man in front of you is truly beautiful. He could be one of her lovers, you think, he most definitely looks the part. His robes though now disheveled are of expensive fabric and show off his lean body, and the way he holds himself you can’t imagine him to be a common worker. “So, you and The Queen, I see...”

“Oh! It’s not what you think...I’m a mere poet. I sing to The Queen and her Court, but she suddenly wanted more of me than I am willing to offer. I-I rejected her.”

Your eyes widen again. “That was most unwise.”

He smiles, his eyes cast down. “I can bear the weight of my faults. I plan to leave to another province.”

“You’ll rather leave your home? But it is The Queen!”

“As you can see, there is punishment in denying The Queen of her desires.”

You’re astonished. “I can’t imagine being with her to be so horrible you’d choose to run instead, give up all you’ve acquired?”

“I rather give myself to someone for love.”

You feel your heartbeat quicken at his words, ‘so idealistic.’ You’ve never encountered an individual with such delicate presence, a trait you find most unconventional. A smile pulls at one of the corners of your mouth, “Aphrodite must favor you.”

Taehyung laughs, his eyes softening, “Thank you again, someone must favor me to put you in my path.” His warm dark eyes hold your gaze. “I mustn’t stay too long…”

“Yes, of course! Well then…” You falter in your farewell. He struggles with the decision to leave. Taehyung knows he must, The Queen’s soldiers could come riding through again at any moment, and he doesn’t want to think of the punishment they would bestow upon you if they learned of your lies, so why can’t he seem to let go of your company?

He notices the trampled flowers littered on the ground around you, the colorful petals lay beautiful and ruined, a fate he worries will become yours if he doesn’t make haste. He picks up an unbroken blossom. “Thank you again.” He places the flower in your palms, a warmth spreads over you through your fingertips as you hold your breath in reverence. His thumbs stroke your fingers gently, and then he nods at you one last time and moves to run again. You feel a pressure building in your throat, unready to bid him farewell, and you don’t understand why this man whom you’ve just met is affecting you so. His kindness and his gentleness makes your body yearn to learn more. What can you do, he’s a stranger and not yours to keep, you must let him go.

His flower stays cradled in your hands, you feel your chest tighten more and more with each step he takes that brings another stretch of distance between your bodies. Your limbs itch to move. What should you do? It is what you want to do that makes you so afraid. You silently ask Athena for guidance. It is only when he turns past the treeline and out of sight that you can’t take it any longer.

You run into the temple. You race to your small quarters, and gather anything you deem valuable, not very much. Pushing down the thoughts that tell you you’re acting crazed and without reason, you fasten your belongings to your body. You race out of the temple's entrance and crash once again into a body that jolts your nerve endings with an undeniable energy. You stare into his eyes once more, the man you saved. He looks down at you, eyes wide with surprise but full of mirth.

A horse carries you and Taehyung farther North. You travel in comfortable silence, as your hands rest snugly around his waist. After riding with him for so long, you are no longer shy to hold him, accustomed to being pressed up against his back. You listen to the steady rhythm of horse hooves against the earth. It is peaceful and you find yourself smiling against Taehyung’s back.

The bright lush green landscape turns dark and threatening as the two of you ride past an abandoned village. The wooden wreckage smolders still. You gasp at the sight, so many homes lost. Taehyung taps the horse’s body with his foot to quicken its step.

“Stop!” You yell at Taehyung once you notice a shift amongst the rubble. You jump off before he properly stops his stead, running towards the wreckage to confirm what you thought you had witnessed.

Taehyung runs after you, warning you to be careful. Once you reposition a large plank of wood, you gasp at what you see. There’s a bleeding old woman pinned underneath, still alive. You call for Taehyung’s help, the both of you pulling her as delicately as you can manage from beneath the rubble.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive, it’s a miracle by The Gods.” Taehyung holds the old woman’s hand as you run to the horse to fetch a canteen of water.

“Oh, a miracle yes,” the old woman coughs out, “fate has blessed me after much burden.”

You work to clean her skin of dried blood and ash, offering her water to drink. “What can we do to help?”

“My walking stick, it is most important.” Her eyes stay closed shut in pain, as she gestures to the place you’ve pulled her from. Taehyung rummages around until he pulls an item from the wreckage, an impressive staff decorated with gold markings and a large green gem adorned at its apex.

The old woman offers Taehyung her gratitude, feeling much more at ease she opens her eyes to look at the pair of you. You stare into the old woman’s clouded grey eyes in surprise.

“Thank you child, but hurry, the rain will wash the flames away, but will halt your journey for the day.” Taehyung looks upwards at the old woman’s words, white clouds are traveling across the bright clear blue sky.

You can’t leave the blind woman alone after everything she’s been through. “If it’s going to rain, please let us take you to the next village for shelter.” She nods and walks staff in hand towards Taehyung’s horse.

“Only a bit further, we will make it before it rains,” the old blind woman promises. Sounds of thunder echo faintly in the background. The sun is no longer out, hidden behind dark grey storm clouds. You shiver and rub the exposed skin of your arms for comfort next to Taehyung as the two of you walk next to his horse. He grasps your hand and pulls you closer to him. He radiates warmth. You never know how to react to his kind gestures. You look up at him and meet his gaze, sending him a shy smile. He rubs his thumb on your knuckles, smiling brightly back. If his intentions were to make you warm, he succeeded, your heart feels full.

“This is a farming community. They are a kind people who serve Demeter, the two of you are safe here,” At the old woman’s declarations you and Taehyung look at each other, exchanging unspoken words.

“This is where our paths must diverge. If you continue to follow this road, you’ll find sanctuary for the night, I promise.” Taehyung helps the old blind woman down from his horse. “Thank you again, children. I don’t have anything to offer you in return for your help, but I can give you some words of wisdom.” She smiles kindly at you both.

The old blind woman still holds Taehyung’s hand in hers. She turns his palm upward, her fingers trace the lines of his hand. You watch her curiously. “Ahh, your soul holds so much talent, you’ll find it’s both a blessing and a curse.” You giggle, Taehyung shoots you a look, his lips curving into a half smile. “Ahh, you know of it already. In the future, you’ll have a great choice to make, I can’t choose for you, but as someone who's lived many years and knows how dreadful and gray the world can become, my advice is to choose the path of love.”

“Always,” Taehyung’s eyes cast a look over to you and you feel shy once more under his gaze.

She brings her hand to Taehyung’s face to pat his cheek. “Dear child, too beautiful for your own good. It won’t be easy for you, for either of you, this path before you. Hermes wings have found your heels, you won’t find much rest in this life.” She looks sympathetic as her head turns towards you.

“Much like the universe has brought you to me, I see destiny is not a stranger.” She smiles at you knowingly. You hold your breath as she reaches for your hand, studying your palm alongside Taehyung’s. “Your souls...they have been linked together. I see the red string of fate wrapped tightly around you both.”

You find yourself wanting to believe her. Her words seem heartfelt and true, and you can’t deny her strong aura despite her fragile appearance. You catch Taehyung’s eyes again. Has he been looking at you this entire time? She continues, “This bond you have is quite unbreakable, not even death can cut what tethers you together.” She studies your hand more carefully, “Ahh, peculiar...”

“Do you see something worrisome?” you ask, concerned.

“It is nothing to worry dear, you have much love that surrounds you. Let yourself love. There will be those who will try to keep you apart, but take it from an old old woman, love is a stronger force than even the gods can imagine. It glitters brighter than gold and gives you riches greater than Kings. In the end, you’ll find a way.”

You think of her words all night. You look over to your companion, he sleeps peacefully next to you. Do you love him? Is this love? Is he your destiny? You pray to Athena for answers, but only more questions arise in your mind.

You think to the day you first met him, the memory bringing a smile to your face. You left with him, in the end. It was you who found the courage to ask him to take you with him, on the premise of wanting to see the world while moving to another temple. You expected him to let you down gently, you remember his hesitation still, but instead he had not refused you, and you have been traveling with him ever since. Being with Taehyung filled the holes of loneliness that punctured your existence before meeting. Your world had been small, consisting only within the temple’s walls. Now your world feels infinite, it’s thrilling and terrifying, and at the center of it all is Taehyung, gentle and kind and sincere in his affection.

---

You are jostled from your sleep. Taehyung pulls you gently from your bed, his lips placing tender kisses across your forehead as he pulls you to your feet. “I’m sorry, we have to leave again.”

This is not the first time you've had to run, or the second or third. So you pack the things you cannot part with and say goodbye to the rest.

Taehyung, the beautiful poet with a voice that can capture any audience's attention, has always been able to afford you both a roof and a meal. Taehyung’s performances become the talk of whatever acropolis you find yourself in, and his fame grows until his looks and voice catch the attention of someone too important to ignore. Fame is a wonderful thing until it becomes too much, too demanding, and all too quickly can Taehyung’s admirers turn into attackers, vilifying his every action. When that happens he decides to run, and you follow. You worry if it goes on like this you’ll have no more places left to run to.

You liked this place the most, it pangs your heart to lose your home again, but you know your true home is in Taehyung’s arms. You pack as many mementos of this place as you can carry, and hold the rest of your memories close in your heart.

---

“Like this,” you pull your bow back and look to the trees ahead where three pheasants sit perched. You choose the biggest bird and aim your arrow. You make sure Taehyung is studying your form and then you let the arrow go. The bird squawks sharply before falling to the ground, and the others scatter to the sky.

“See!” you laugh at Taehyung’s astonished face.

“How are you so much better at this than me?” The poet whines as you hand him back his bow and arrow. You laugh again. You and Taehyung have been learning to survive by yourselves through trial and error, more error than not. You’ve never had to hunt for food before, but you quickly found yourself skilled, and you think it’s quite fun. At least when you’re not starving, stomach already full from fresh berries Taehyung had picked for you to share. He had picked you flowers as well. They sit in your hair in an intricate pattern after you complained to him you couldn’t eat flowers. You slowly remove the arrow bag from around your neck, so as not to ruin the halo he so carefully crafted.

“I caught it, so you cook it,” you tease.

He brings your hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “That, my fair maiden, I can do!”

---

It is late and Taehyung has not arrived home. His performance should have been done hours ago. You try not to let your thoughts wander into the dark depths of your worst fears as you settle into a restless unease. Your home is quiet and still, too quiet. You keep your ears focused as you wander around the house.

It goes from quiet to chaos too quickly, you hear shouting in the distance. A hand grabs your mouth before you can scream, you start to kick but strong arms hold you tightly. Taehyung shushes you as he pulls you to the back entrance of your home.

You’re running into the woods with the poet, he pulls you to the ground and holds you beneath him. From the bushes you watch men with swords circle your house. You feel violated as you watch them enter your home. Crashes inside make you flinch in Taehyung's arms. “We’ll go back to fetch our things once they leave,” he shushes you.

The soft warm glow of your house becomes bright, light filling up the night sky as a fire breaks out and the men continue to destroy your home. Taehyung covers your mouth to stifle your cries and holds you close to him, whispering countless apologies. You can only whimper in his arms, your shoulders shake in grief as you watch everything you own go up in flames.

When you first came to this place, you and Taehyung stood out too much for the villagers' liking. You were strangers, you didn’t look like them, and they targeted you constantly for the pettiest of things. But this area was remote so you endured their hateful ways. It didn’t help matters when Taehyung, a much better singer than the locals before him, was offered an audience with the region’s King. Taehyung never made an appearance, letting other singers he befriended attend in his place, hoping to gain some favor with the locals, but it only angered the King. Feeling insulted, he killed the poets. And now, with enemies at both ends, and anger consuming the villagers, Ares wrath scorched your home to the ground.

You’re quiet next to Taehyung. Your feet ache from walking. No horse, no food in days. It’s nightfall and cold, you wear his cloak and shiver still. You walk beside the poet, but he feels oceans away. His usual bright eyes are dull and full of sorrow. You didn’t realize how accustomed you were to his touch until he had stopped. Your body aches to be in his arms, to hold his hand while you walk. You feel loneliness twist around you instead.

It is Taehyung who breaks the silence. He speaks softly, “There is a famous temple of Athena in this city, hopefully we can convince them to let you stay.”

The idea revolts you, pulling at the pit of your stomach. The thought of going back to your old ways, as if it would be a reprieve or something you missed, makes you nauseated.

“No.”

“I thought it would be enough...I-I was naive. I’m truly cursed. I can sing all about love, paint beautiful stories of love’s triumph, but when I cannot give you anything else but my devotion, it’s not enough. I can’t stand to watch you wither away in front of me. You deserve more.”

“The oracle said-”

“What kind of life is this for you?” He stops walking, his voice breaks in his anguish. “I-I’m sorry. I should have never taken you away from safety into this reckless existence. This should have been my burden alone.” Tears fall down his face as he shudders. You reach for him, cup his face in your hands. How can you make him see he’s all you want? He lets you wipe away his tears. You pull his head down to meet yours.

“What kind of life is this? The best life I’ve ever could have wished for. A life full of love. I’d trade everything I have for you.” You brush your lips against his, it stops his tears. His eyes fill with adoration, a blazing intensity that makes your heartbeat quicken.

“Stop this worrying, let’s go.” You grab his hand and pull him along. The silence hangs heavy in the air, the stillness of the night frightens you.

“Sing me a song please.”

“From now on I’ll only sing for you.” Taehyung says his words quietly, but his resolve thunders to the heavens, shaking the course of your lives.

The light of day shines through your open window, it illuminates the thin white fabric pulled over your head and wakes you. The white cloth flitters in the breeze of your bedroom and you catch a peak of the handsome man lying next to you. His dark warm eyes are already open as he watches you stretch your sleepiness away. He lifts his head, pulling the sheet higher, so he can get a better look at you, “Good morning, my beloved.”

Taehyung’s dark hair and tan skin against the glowing white backdrop of your bed sheets makes him look ethereal. You watch him in awe, “Good morning, dear husband.”

Your body feels heavy and rested. Your bare skin is warm against his and the sun heated sheet, the soft fabric pulls over your bodies, everything is so soft and warm.

Taehyung buries his head in your chest, smiling against your skin. “I love you.”

Your fingers play with the curls of his hair. “And I love you.”

Underneath the covers, you create your own little world, away from the responsibilities of your lives, the expectations of the day.

Taehyung runs his lips across your naked chest, kissing, licking, biting all over your body. You giggle at his playful teasing touches. “You’re perfection, so soft and pretty.” He captures your lips in a kiss, moving his mouth against yours slowly as his body rests between your legs. His hands find your waist and pull at your skin as he explores your mouth with his tongue, swallowing your moans.

Your legs wrap around his torso, you can feel him growing against your slick core. Taehyung's fingers find yours and he intertwines them together, pulling your arms above your head. He nibbles on the sensitive skin below your jaw.

“You smell so good,” he moans, “you taste so good.” His low baritone voice sends shivers down your body. You whimper, breathless from his caresses. He thrusts in slowly, rolling his body into you, slow and steady until you’re both feverish from mounting pleasure. “What do you want, my love?”

“Just you, please, I want all of you.”

He rolls you over so your body is on top of him. “You have me forever. Now show me how much you want me.” Your playful lover bites his lower lip, pulling on your hips to make you move against him. Your body moves up and down his length, Taehyung’s moans and devastating lustful looks spur you on to please him.

You roll your hips faster, so close to release. Taehyung notices your frenzied state and grabs your hips to hold you still, thrusting up into you instead. His hard length fills you up so deliciously. His grip on you is searing yet soft, you focus on his body below you, his tight muscles and golden skin. “I-I’m close.”

“Touch yourself for me.”

The room fills with sinful noises as your bodies converge again and again and you cry out in euphoria. Taehyung stills inside you as you reach your high, mesmerized by the way your body twist in pleasure in his arms.

Taehyung lays your trembling body down against the soft sheets of your bed, grinding his hips into you as you continue to pulse around him. “Eyes open, look at me my love.”

You struggle with his command, but hold his gaze as best you can, his physique shines with sweat and his hungry eyes roam over your spent body, the erotic way he looks at you ignites the desire in between your legs once again.

He’s so close to release. Taehyung quickens his pace, making you tighten around him, senses overloaded. You moan, encouraging him to keep going.

“You’ll let me fill you up? Have my baby?” His long fingers find your sensitive nub, applying pressure and making you cry out.

“Y-yes!” You can only feel blinding pleasure as Taehyung thrusts into you deeper.

“How beautiful you’ll be, glowing and pregnant with my baby growing inside of you.” He groans. Your stomach tightens as his cock swells, pressure filling you before you feel yourself snapping again. Taehyung’s own release following, your tightness too much for him to handle.

You hold him close to you as you both work to steady your breathing, “We have to start baking soon,” you softly remind him, “before the market opens.”

Taehyung cuddles closer to you, “It’s okay, they’ll wait for my bread, it is the best in the city.” He grins, kneading at your breasts with his large hands. You laugh, relaxing into his embrace.

“Okay okay, we’ll stay a bit longer.”

Your children gather around you in prayer. You take in a ragged breath. Your bedridden aging body feels heavy. Soft light begins to cloud the edges of your vision as you listen to the wistful voices of your sons and daughters shower you with love. Taehyung's fingers brush against your wrinkled digits.

“My beautiful wife, how I missed you.”

You call out his name. Your eldest daughter soothes you, brushing her hand over your forehead. You thought you would be afraid once teetering on the edge of your own mortality, but with him here, holding you again, fear is unable to reach you. You’re already so full of love.

Taehyung comes into your focus, still beautiful in his old age, still the gentle man you love, he places a feather light kiss on your temple. Relief washes through you, the currents pull the burdens on your soul away, and you feel light, floating between worlds.

“I’ve waited for you,” Taehyung’s deep voice fills your mind, “Are you ready to travel with me again?” You know your answer, innate as the love you felt when you first met him.

You take one final breath, letting go and following Taehyung again.

---

Your eyes flutter open. You’re lying face down on the hotel bed. As your eyes begin to focus, you are met with the singer’s face next to yours. Taehyung is lying on his back next to you, grinning from ear to ear, your fingers are still interlocked by your heads.

“What happened?” you whisper.

“I don’t know, I think we passed out, I woke up right before you opened your eyes.”

He looks at you, still beaming, a boxy smile plastered on his face. You try not to smile back. He shouldn’t be this happy!

“That wasn’t bad. You made it sound bad.” he pouts.

You hum, looking at your still intertwined fingers. You study the smooth skin of your hands, the wrinkles and veins you’d seen now only a fleeting memory. You feel tired.

Taehyung feels like he’s just woken up from a long dream. Memories of last night feel far away, more distant than memories presumably lived centuries ago. He focuses on the only constant, you.

“Do you regret it?”

You let out a deep exhale, you move your hand to trace his cheek, his nose, his eyebrow; he watches you quietly. You flick him on the forehead.

Taehyung yelps, looking quite betrayed by your actions. You smile, and his expression switches easily back to happiness. “It’s okay, you don’t have to admit I’m right,” he teases.

You let out a huff, “Doesn’t it bother you? It should bother you! Why is this happening...it’s exhausting...”

Taehyung wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to his body. “I don’t care why,” he mumbles into your hair. Your breath catches in your throat as he cuddles closer to you.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Your heart pounds. You try to stay calm. “No,” you whisper.

His arms tighten around your frame. His warmth envelopes you, it feels like there’s fire inside you, burning down all your apprehensions.

“So this is how it feels. I thought I understood Jungkook. But this is....” you feel his body vibrate as he laughs to himself. “It’s not something you can put into words, right? I understand what he means, about not wanting to let you go.”

Closing your eyes you can picture yourself being in a different place, a different land, another time, you let yourself relax into Taehyung’s embrace. You can feel his hands caress your body, his long fingers travel to the back of your neck and down your spine and the curve of your back.

“I know I’ve never hugged you, but it feels like I’ve done this a hundred times before. Like you belong with me.” His voice is low in your ears. You try to ignore how you feel, how true his words are, but you can't.

“Right? At least admit that to me, y/n.” He whispers. His fingers dig into your skin as he pulls you even closer.

“Hm?”

“You belong with me.”

“I-” A knock on your door makes you break away from him. Taehyung flops on his back, sighing. You open the door to the youngest and oldest members smiling at you.

“Good morning!” You internally wince at your unusually high voice. Jungkook looks over your shoulder, noticing movement inside your room. He sees Taehyung sitting cross legged on your bed, leaning back on his palms with a grin on his face. Jungkook’s doe eyes go wide as his head turns slowly over to the eldest, who then mirrors his expression. Their surprised faces would be comical to you if you didn’t feel responsible for their reactions.

Everyone’s silence is making your stomach twist into knots. You clear your throat. “I touched his hand, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Unable to meet their eyes, you feel the need to add, “That’s all that happened. So...okay, let’s go!”

---

Everyone is sitting in the penthouse, around the coffee table filled with plates piled high with different breakfast foods. Some are sitting on the floor, some on the couch with plates in their laps. Jin ushers you next to an open spot next to J-Hope and sits on your other side. Taehyung and Jungkook have been quietly talking behind you and find seats in the empty gaps.

“The food here is really good,” Hoseok says in between bites as Jin serves you a plate. He smiles brightly at you. Hoseok wishes he wasn't so apprehensive with you. He aches to get to know you, learn all your quirks, learn about your childhood and what makes you happy so he can shower you with more of it; and what makes you sad so he can make sure you never experience it again. But he's too scared, Hoseok feels too much guilt.

His hair is messy and sticking up in weird angles, you resist the urge to fix it. ‘Just keep your hands to yourself, y/n. He’s not your friend,’ you chant in your head. You look around at the men, cozy and warm in their group. You realize how much of an outsider you are.

“Here,” Jin places a triangle of sweet toast on your already overflowing plate. You eat quietly while the members talk to themselves and check their phones. It feels nice, like a big family dinner on the holidays. You watch Hoseok take a selfie with his phone, a minute later you feel your phone vibrate with a notification.

“You posted to twitter just now?” Hoseok notices the panic in your voice as you magnify the picture to make sure there’s no item or reflection that might incriminate you.

“Err yes, why?” he scoots closer to you to see what you’re doing.

“I just-didn’t think it was that easy.” You scroll quickly through your timeline now that you’ve made sure you’re safe, Jin and Hoseok both moving in your space to stare at your phone much to your dismay and you think it’s time to put it away after the third photo of Namjoon’s toned arms pop up on your feed.

After stuffing yourselves full, the time has come to address the elephant in the room. The members take turns reliving the moments of last night, and in Taehyung’s case this morning, explaining everything so the group could all remain on the same page.

Namjoon should have been upset, once Taehyung shocked the rest of the group by speaking, but being in the same predicament himself, he was not surprised to learn Taehyung sought you out, he had barely slept toying with the idea himself.

You don’t talk much, just confirm certain details. You noticed how the men glossed over the most tragic parts of your visions, and you don’t care to interject. You learned new things as well...

Jimin finding his way back to your farm, only to find it destroyed and you gone, and unable to live with himself after that. You can’t meet each other's eyes when you tell him your own version of events.

Jin wanted to propose, he had picked out a ring, a bright blue gem like the ocean.

Taehyung had convinced you he stopped singing as a bard because he grew to hate it, but he confessed, to your suspicion, that wasn’t the case at all. He promised you he never once regretted his decision.

Hoseok took the job as a DJ because when you were younger you were obsessed with your local station, swooning over the DJ's voice and always calling in to win contests for you and Hoseok. He always had an affinity for music, but mostly he did it for you, to impress you.

Yoongi almost didn’t admit he had never really left your side, how he never stopped protecting you. That had shocked you the most. Your heart screams to comfort him, to comfort all of them.

Jungkook excitedly tells you everything he had planned for your escape, he used his life’s savings to find you and him a new home far away. He tells you how if you both had succeeded you would have been so happy with him.

It felt weird. All these lives inside you itching to burst through, you didn’t feel like yourself anymore. You meet the idol’s eyes sitting next to you, and when he looks at you so tenderly, you wonder who he really sees.

“Yoongi’s life was the coolest.” The quiet rapper keeps his head down, only nodding in acknowledgement at Jimin’s comment.

“Well I liked mine,” Taehyung declares. “Which one was your favorite, y/n?”

“I’m not answering that,” you mutter, growing hot under the sudden attention.

“Hmm I don’t see a connection.” Namjoon hums. “Apart from y/n.”

“Should there be one?”

“I’m assuming nothing strange like this has ever happened to you before?” Namjoon turns to you. You shake your head. “Have you ever had dreams, um, of us?”

“No! I mean-what? No.” You pull the neck of Jungkook’s hoodie over your mouth to hide your embarrassment, with no intention on admitting anything. What does dreaming have to do with this?

Namjoon stays silent in thought. Should he tell the group now?

“I should probably go now.” It’s no longer morning after talking for so long. You have a life to go back to; chores, work. You hope being back in your home will make you feel more like the old you, before everything you thought you knew was turned upside down.

Jungkook stands up, “Why!”

“I have work in the morning? Not everyone is a famous world class musician,” You try to keep your tone light, but you’re bothered.

His lips press into a tight line. “I know, just…”

You have responsibilities, a job to go to tomorrow, you don’t want to entertain the wild fantasies arising in your mind at the way he looks at you so pleadingly to stay. “I can’t stay here all day.” You stand up as well, the members’ eyes dart back and forth between you and Jungkook, like they were watching fighters in a match.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Jungkook blurts out.

You close your eyes and rub at your temples. It’s becoming too hard, to keep pushing these feelings away, you cannot allow yourself to feel things for these men. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. What do you want from me?”

Jungkook speaks louder, “Do you not want to be with me?”

“I’m-that’s not-it’s not that simple. You don’t even know me! Do you want to be with me-”

“Yes.”

You let out an incredulous laugh and look around the room, but the men look starkly serious. You focus on the youngest again, raising your voice so everyone can hear you clearly. “I’m a nobody. You don’t know me. Name one thing you know about me other than my name...name my favorite color! If you can name my favorite color I’ll sta-”

Jungkook names your favorite color. His eyes piercing through you. Your breath catches in your throat.

‘How did he-wait...was it her favorite color too?’ Tears well up in your eyes. “...I’m not her.”

Jungkook winces at your words, “You’re right, I don’t know who you are right now. But you are...I know you are...the woman I fell in love with. What are you so afraid of?”

You look down at the ground to your feet. You can only shake your head at him and keep your mouth shut so you don’t start crying in front of them. You feel a hand wrap around yours and you already know who it is. You yank your hand away. If Yoongi is hurt, he doesn’t show it to you.

“I’m sorry, I know my life is difficult, that I’m a ‘famous musician,’ but isn’t it better than a poor stable worker? Can’t you see how meeting you again, this might be, maybe...fate?”

A pained laugh escapes your throat, letting go of the pressure you built up in your forced silence. “Oh my god. This is not happening.” Yes, maybe you can finally admit what happened was real, but what does that change? It’s not like you can run away with him in this life either, the entire world recognizes him now.

Your hands hold your head, your nails dig into your skin to concentrate on anything other than Jungkook’s continuing pleas. It’s just laughable to think this idol is begging you to stay with him. A sick thought invades your mind that maybe you’re doomed to repeat your transgressions. The memory of his bleeding body flashes in your mind, you’re not meant to be with them, how could you be? They’re the most famous singers in the world, yeah, you are afraid.

Jimin tries to calm down the youngest, “Kookie, you can’t force her to stay here…”

Jungkook is beside himself. He feels you slipping through his fingers again, away from him and even if it’s different now, it feels too sickeningly similar.

“Hyung please, you’ve been with non-idols, please talk to her...please!” Jungkook is crying, begging Jin.

A strangled sob escapes your throat at his cries. Hoseok rushes over to you, but you scramble away from his touch. You know you’ll break the second you let him comfort you.

Jin’s heart is breaking; for Jungkook, for you, for himself. He doesn’t know what to say, he’s just afraid as Jungkook of letting you go. Finally Namjoon decides to take control of the situation, the only one with a clear head. “Everyone leave. Now. Y/n deserves her space, and we still have four more days left in this city. Alright go!” The boys pull each other away, holding onto each other for strength, trusting their leader.

Yoongi pats a crying Jungkook on the back, “It’s okay, Joon will convince her.”

---

Your eyes hurt from crying, puffy and dark. You feel pathetic. Your head is pounding, you lean against the car window as you watch the blur of the city go past.

“Here.” Namjoon sits across from you, leaving the middle seat open. He hands you a cell phone.

You hold the sleek new model in your hand, “What is this?”

“It’s a hand phone,” the idol says teasingly.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh. “What is this for?”

“For you, to contact us.” Namjoon shrugs, “If you want to.” You sit in silence as his driver takes you home.

“You haven’t asked to touch my hand. Do you not want to?” You ask, sneaking a glance at the rapper.

“Of course I want to,” he speaks softly. “It’s all I’ve thought about since I saw you. But you’ve gone through a lot. I’ll let you decide if it’s something you want to do, and when you’re ready I’ll be here.”

You bite your lip. “For four more days.”

Namjoon smiles, his dimples on display. “Yes, I’m guessing you didn’t get tickets for the next city?”

“No, I wish. Those fanmeet tickets weren’t exactly cheap.”

Namjoon chuckles softly, “Ahh sorry.”

“Well, I did get a free breakfast with BTS, lucky me,” you hum. He nods, his eyes cast down. You hope he didn’t catch any bitterness in your tone, under any circumstance you would be dying of happiness.

You let the silence envelope you again, as you start to recognize the streets, you’re getting closer to home and to being left alone. You sigh, running your hands over your face, “Oh god, this is a mess.”

“I don’t think it is. I think there’s a reason for everything. And I think there’s a reason why this happened to you. To all of us.”

“What could that reason be?” You ask him genuinely, maybe the genius idol sees something you don’t.

“I don’t know. I do know it’s lonely being an idol. It’s hard to love, to find someone to love you and not break under the constant pressure.”

“I don’t know if I can be that person.”

“Well to me, it sounds like you’ve already been that person.” You want to scoff, but the sincere look in his eyes makes you stop. The GPS signals your arrival home.

The air is heavy as you gather up the strength to leave, “I will message you later, I promise. Just give me some time.”

You watch the expensive van leave your entrance. You couldn’t see through the dark tinted windows, but you had a feeling the idol was watching you, so you held yourself together and waved goodbye.

---

You know you should have just gone inside your home, but you had something to do first, it was driving you mad not knowing. So now you stand in front of a door that’s not your own still in clothes that are not your own. You send a text of your arrival and knock.

“Hi!” You pretend you aren’t exhausted, “I just have to try something-”

He looks at you dumbfounded as you grab his hand and start shaking it. Nothing. ‘Of course, just wonderful.’ You switch to two hands, shaking more forcefully.

“What’s going on...” his voice is shaky from the intense movements of your greeting. ‘Why is nothing happening, why is it only them, Ugh, why!’

“Earth to y/n...” why why why why.

He grabs your arms to stop your movements “Hey, are you okay? You never responded to my calls, I was worried.”

“I’m sorry,” you look into his concerned eyes. It feels like eons ago, whatever budding feelings you had for him. Why.

“Do you want to come in?”

“No, I better go.”

“You came all the way over here and you don’t want to tell me how last night went? You meet BTS and now you’re acting all crazy! You didn’t decide to leave me for one of them, did you?” your friend jokes.

“Ah ha aha…”

He raises his eyebrow at you. “I have work tomorrow...I just wanted to see you.” It’s the truth, you’re not lying. “I’m sorry for not responding last night. I’ll see you later?”

He gives you a kiss goodbye. ‘Oh no.’ It all feels so wrong.

---

The first day, you send Jungkook an apology. He sends you a ton of voice memos and selfies, just happy to talk to you again. You respond with light replies, trying not to dig your hole any deeper.

The second day, that night you break down. You send all the boys a simple “hi”. Yoongi, Jin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Namjoon all respond. They send messages about their day. Jin sends you a picture of his food. Yoongi says he misses you. Against your better judgement you tell him you miss him too. Suspiciously, after your reply Jungkook and Taehyung message that they miss you seconds apart from one another. You tell them you miss them too, when Taehyung says he wants to see you, you’re too scared to respond.

The third day you stay busy with work. Hoseok sends you a picture of the sunset, his first message to you, nothing else. You wait until the night comes and send a picture of the moon from your window, and ‘Goodnight. Sweet dreams.’

The fourth day the pressure becomes too much. You hover over the call button all day but you can’t do it. By dinner time, you get a call from Jungkook. You try to swallow down the tears you’ve cried all day and sound cheerful when you answer.

“I just wanted to call before we get on the plane,” he says.

‘It’s too late. No.’ you think. “I’m sorry, tell Namjoon I’m so sorry. I should have seen him before you all left, I should have...”

“Don’t worry y/n. No one blames you.”

“That doesn’t mean what I did was okay. I wanted to see you all again.”

“You did?” The way his voice becomes more cheerful tugs at your heart. “You can make it up to us by talking more. Can I video chat with you later?”

“Okay.”

“Okay, got to go...Bye Beautiful.” He sounds like he’s in a much better mood, you can hear the teasing lilt to his words.

Weeks go by. You keep your promise. It’s easier communicating through the screen of your phone. You can imagine them to be online friends, people who are not famous. Some conversations stay light, some become deeper. They pry information from your life, learning more and more about you, and you feel yourself getting attached to their morning greetings and late night calls. Meanwhile, with family and friends you try to act like everything is normal, keeping this weird new world hidden, but you’re still constantly haunted by your memories with them. Your past lives play through your mind all day long and replace your dreams. Everything else felt so wrong now, so not you anymore, so gray. You feel like a bad friend, a bad daughter, a cheater.

---

Namjoon wakes up, groaning, his body still heavy from sleep. He quickly changes into a pair of slacks and a button down shirt. He chooses a forest green vest to wear, like the plants in his room. He runs pomade in his hair before heading downstairs to get ready for the morning.

He unlocks the door to his bookstore, before he can turn around the door opens with a loud ding. You walk in and make a beeline to the center table. Namjoon laughs, “Back so soon?”

“Of course, I’m so bored! My crops won’t be harvestable for another couple of months. Any other recommendations? I loved your last one.” You smile brightly at the bookstore owner, he’s always so kind to you and doesn’t make you feel like an outsider when you visit. If you could, you would spend all day in his store, talking about the latest novels and picking each other's brains. “Before I forget! For you...” You hand him two jars of homemade jam.

You're his favorite customer. And if Namjoon is being honest, he has a crush on you. He pulls a book from high above a shelf, a pristine copy. “This one, it should keep you busy.” Your eyes sparkle as you take in the large leather bound novel, gold letters adorning it’s spine. “How much?”

“Don’t worry, this one time I’ll take jam as payment.”

“No, that was a present,” you pout.

“Well, then this is a present for you.”

“Sir, if you don’t let me pay, I will throw a fit! I need you to stay in business.” It’s always like this with him, you’ll be damned if he doesn’t let you show him how much you appreciate him.

Namjoon laughs, “Alright alright. Then promise me you’ll come visit as soon as you finish.”

You nod, holding your new purchase close to your heart. He watches you leave, his eyes lingering on your body. You hold onto his book like a prized trophy. It’s another thing he loves about you, the way you treat things with so much care. His eyes still linger on you as you stand outside his shop. He sees a stranger run into you, you stumble back and almost fall, he rushes to the door to help you but stops in his tracks as the man's face comes into focus. “Jimin?”

Namjoon wakes up startled. He runs his hands through his hair, disturbed at what he saw. He’s covered in sweat, inside the cold room of his bedroom. Every night he’s had dreams of you, but this one was different. Should he go talk to someone about it? Who would believe him? He feels like every day he’s slowly getting closer to losing his mind. Today is going to be a long day full of press junkets. He rubs at his eyes trying to forget what he saw, what he felt.

---

Today you decide to call Namjoon. Usually, you’ll wait until one of the members decides to call you, but you had to talk to him before you lost your nerve. He picks up on the second ring. “Hey, I can’t talk for that long, is everything okay?” you can hear how busy it is in the background.

“No it’s my fault! I’m sorry, I’m an idiot, of course you would be busy. Call me when you’re free.”

“No! I have some time, we can talk.” You hear him shuffling to a quieter location.

Are you going to regret this? You take a deep breath. “I want to see you again. I-I don’t want to forget about what happened and go back to my life like everything is normal when it's not. You were right. I’m sorry...I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.” You wait for Namjoon’s response, the silence fills you with anxiety. You would completely understand if he brushes you off now.

“I’ll figure something out. Okay y/n?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“See you.”

That night Namjoon sends you a series of text messages with instructions. Your eyes go wide over the new information. You look around your home, you know you should feel some sadness, but only excitement bubbles inside you. ‘I guess this is it.’ How are you going to explain this to your family and friends, to your boyfriend? A special internship in South Korea, you guess is how you’ll start.

---Three Months Later---

Namjoon splashes cold water on his face, he looks up into his bathroom mirror and blinks at his reflection. Namjoon’s eyes are not his.

Namjoon wakes up yelling. He falls back into bed, catching his breath. He checks the time. You should be on the plane right now. The idol rapper has always appreciated the wealth he’s accumulated over the years, but he feels especially grateful in this moment, now that he has found himself in a position of power large enough to secure you with a translation job within his own company.

---

A man holds a sign with your name on it. You walk towards him, your suitcase ticking on the airport concrete as it rolls on the ground behind you. You spent the last three months preparing for this, studying over language books every night and saying goodbye to family and friends. Your parents didn’t understand your sudden change of career, but you promised them the pay was better and it wouldn’t be forever. Your boyfriend was not so understanding, especially when you wouldn’t give him any details as to why you’re leaving the county. You and him weren’t even that serious to begin with but the breakup was messy.

You followed the driver’s instructions once he dropped you off in front of a very posh looking complex, entering key codes, up the elevator, down the hall, until you stood in front of the correct numbered door. You use the key he gave you to unlock the large door and walk into a massive apartment. Every member is already inside, waiting for you. You feel relief wash over you, you can’t help but smile at the group. They cheer at your arrival, you notice balloons and a makeshift welcome sign. The mood is definitely much more relaxed from the last time you all gathered together.

“Is this your place?” You ask as Jungkook takes your suitcase.

“No, this is your apartment.”

Your eyes go wide, “This is way too big!”

Taehyung jumps up and gives you a hug. The months you talked made you feel much more comfortable around them, but you still weren’t prepared for the rush of emotions that filled you once in his embrace again.

“It’s the smallest unit in this building,” Yoongi lets you know.

“And I’m guessing I can’t go to another building.”

“Our dorm is in this one,” The youngest member explains.

“How…” You take a deep breath, eyeing Jungkook up and down, “...convenient.” You take a seat with them on the ridiculously huge couch, next to Yoongi and Jin.

You sigh, stretching your sore jet lagged muscles. “Need to go to the bathroom?” Yoongi whispers at you teasingly.

You snort, his words taking you out of your worries. “Funny,” you mutter.

The eldest helps you fill out a stack of forms for your employment while the rest set plates of takeout on the living room table. You eat your first meal in Korea together. Sitting together, laughing together, you feel better than you have in months. It’s that feeling you get when you’ve finally completed a puzzle, placing the last piece in its place. You feel complete.

Taehyung’s words pull you from your thoughts.

“So y/n, when are you gonna hold Joon’s hand?”

“Oh, um…”

“You came all the way to Korea for him, right!” Taehyung teases.

“She doesn’t have to...” Namjoon murmurs.

“Oh c’mon! You can’t tell me you haven’t been going crazy waiting!”

“Yeah, I agree with Tae!” Jimin laughs.

“Do it!” Jungkook cheers.

“Do it! Do it! Do it!” The youngest members are chanting at the pair of you. You feel the heat rise in your face. You had planned on it, you wanted to find a way to get Namjoon alone, but now with all the attention on you, you feel apprehensive. You look over to Namjoon who looks equally as embarrassed. ‘I don’t want to do this,’ the thought screams in your head.

It has been months, Namjoon has waited for this moment. Now that he’s being put on the spot, he’s apprehensive. Ever since his bandmates touched you, they have acted differently, it might not be noticeable to anyone around them, but Namjoon noticed. Would he change too? Before he can yell at his bandmates, you stand up and walk over to his seat. “They aren’t going to stop,” You whisper, holding out your hand. He sighs and stands up.

“So?” Jin asks when he notices the lack of reaction from both of you as you grip each other's hands.

“Um, nothing is happening.” You stare at the rapper, but his attention is on the place where your hands meet, brows furrowed in disbelief.

“This doesn’t make sense..” He starts shaking your hand up and down as if that might help, it reminds you of the night he dropped you off, and you know exactly how he feels.

“Maybe it’s because I’m jet lagged or something? We could try again later...” you try to soothe the rapper but you can tell he is growing more and more upset with each passing moment, and your arm feels like it's going to dislodge from your shoulder the more he shakes.

The members have all gone silent.

“Maybe you don’t have a past life together?” Hoseok places his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder to stop his movements. No one expected this.

“No, that’s not-we have to-I know it!” Namjoon tries to stay calm but his voice is full of panic.

“Maybe it had something to do with that time, the planets aligning or something?” Jimin says. Is this your fault? Because you were too scared. What have you done? You’re rethinking everything now, you shouldn’t have come here.

“No.” Namjoon is right, he knows it, “that’s not it...” It doesn’t make sense, he knows there’s a connection between you and him. He lets the confession tumble out of his mouth before he can properly think. “Your name, I knew it! How would I know your name?”

You look at him confused, “What do you mean?”

Namjoon bites his tongue. He lets go of you. He blinks his eyes to get rid of tears threatening to spill. The mood is gone and everyone is silent. You feel horrible. Somehow this is your fault, you know it.

“Joon...” The eldest member calls out to him.

“I-I need some air.” Namjoon breaks away from the group.

“Wait!”

---

OOOOooo you had a whole ass boyfriend and you went and tongued Yoongi, scandalous. Looks like poor Joonie got the spiritual cockblock. Should I explain myself lol or do you like drawing your own conclusions?

Oh! Fun fact, the two sentences were this: Your eyes flutter open, you’re lying face down on the hotel bed. Taehyung is lying on his back next to you, grinning from ear to ear, your fingers are still interlocked by your heads. That’s what I had to go on T_T hah. Anyways let me know what you think <3

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

A Deafened Bard (Stephen Strange x Female!Reader)

I can explain. 

Please don't come at me for starting a new project before finishing Cult Girl Doctorate. I hit a wall and needed to take a break. I am trying not to let this one take up too much time.

Y/n is a sorceress-in-training who’s known for being hard to teach. Sensing her potential, Doctor Strange takes her on as an apprentice. 

You firmly believed that shattering the urn of Fei-Amie was the best thing that ever happened to you. 

It happened a year ago, but it still replayed in your head over and over again. You made a conscious effort to remember it vividly. 

Sure, it was terrifying, Stephen Strange's initial look of anger when he heard the ceramic shatter. It softened when he saw that the culprit was just a clumsy sorceress-in-training who looked on the verge of tears with remorse. Still, it was a face you never wanted to see again: his teeth bared, his already sharp features accentuated under the constraints of anger. 

It diluted into silent, simmering frustration that revealed itself to you in short sarcastic jabs and body language. 

"Just, stop." He cut you off after a string of profuse sorries. With no disarming smile in sight, you could tell he was tense. "Artifacts get broken all the time. Don't cry. It was an accident." 

His tone indicated that he was trying to convince himself more than he was you. You were a closed-off person and could hardly stand the idea that anyone out there didn't like you. The idea of the Sorcerer Supreme being mad at you, personally, made you briefly consider ritual suicide. You lowered your head. "Yes, Master Strange."

"Hey, butterfingers." He called out after you as you tried to make a painless exit. You looked back at him and he gestured to the pile of broken ceramic pieces. "You gonna fix what you broke?"

It hadn't dawned on you that an ancient relic could be fixed. Especially one that once contained the ashes of the ancient necromancer Fei-Amie. You were embarrassed to say that your knowledge of manipulating time was surface-level at best, and couldn't think of any other solution. 

You wordlessly gathered the pieces up in your skirt and carried them off, striking out any plans to go into town that evening. Instead, you poured through book after book for any instruction whatsoever on repairing broken artifacts. You ran out of desk space, so books were just floating in the air, suspended on pages that briefly mentioned relic breakage. 

You started to believe you were given an impossible task. Or perhaps all the resources you needed, he was withholding. Even so, you didn't want to go back to him empty-handed. You changed into your street clothes and opened a portal to the local craft store.

You returned with two types of extra-strong superglue and got to work. First, you made all the pieces come together and had them hover over the desk. Unconsciously, you began to sing as you pieced the urn back together. 

Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels

Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles

Brown paper packages tied up with strings

These are a few of my favorite things

"Haven't heard that song in years." 

You dropped the tube of glue and the few remaining pieces fell back to the desk. "Master Strange!" 

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He said, though his apology was undercut by his smug tone. "Carry on." 

You picked up a piece and began to line the edges with glue. 

"Aren't you going to finish the song?" 

You looked up to see that he hadn't been just passing by. He was leaning against the threshold, watching you. 

"I don't usually sing for an audience." You laughed, uncomfortably. "Just me." 

"A man and his sentient cape should not count as an audience," he scoffed. "But, if you insist, I guess I'll have to just listen to Julie Andrews instead." 

"What's wrong with her?" You raised your eyebrows in surprise. 

"Oh, nothing. She's a treasure." He put his hands up. "But everyone gets to hear her sing. And I take it that only a very select few get to hear your rendition of my favorite things. I just have to be one of them." 

You blushed, suddenly forgetting all the words to my favorite things. 

"Girls in white dresses..." he offered, an impatient edge to it.

You swallowed. "Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes. Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes-"

"Hey, butterfingers." He interrupted again. Before you could object, he pointed to the way that the pieces floated gracefully overhead at the sound of your voice. 

"I'd like to see Julie Andrews do that." He said with a wink.

"Looks alright," Master Strange said, running his finger along the tight seams that showed where cracks once were. 

"Will it still work?" You asked. That was really all you were worried about. 

"Beats the hell out of me." He shrugged. "I didn't know how to use it to begin with." 

"What?!" You spat back. "Are you kidding?" 

"I'm afraid not." He said, taking the urn and placing it back on its pedestal. "Don't worry, you did a good job. I'm not mad at you anymore." 

That was really all you needed to hear. "Thank you, sir." 

"You're an apprentice, right?" He asked. 

"I'm..." Your voice trailed off in embarrassment. "Between masters right now."

He raised an eyebrow. "If I were to ask around, would I receive glowing reviews from your last masters?" 

You admitted it point-blank. "No." 

"Let me guess," he folded his arms. "Something didn't make sense to you and instead of giving you the space to question it, they insisted you follow blindly." 

You wanted to throw your head back and shout in relief; finally, someone understood! 

"Bingo, bullseye." You put your hands up in surrender after being read so easily. "Right on the money."

"I see." He said, tucking that thought away for later. "Could I trouble you for one more odd job before you go?" 

"That depends." You folded your arms. "What is it?" 

He looked over his shoulder at his cape. "How are you with sewing?"

‘Sewing' was not the verb you would use to describe repairing the tears in the Cloak of Levitation. It was taller and stronger than you and it did not want to be repaired. It was closer to performing surgery on a fully grown mountain lion that could rip your head off at any minute. 

"Like putting eyeshadow on a cat," Master Strange said. It flicked its edge contemptuously, while still clinging to his shoulders for dear life. "I'm a licensed surgeon and it won't let me within 20 feet of it with a needle." 

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." You said, thoroughly discouraged. All he'd given you to work with was a spool of thread and a pack of needles. 

He tried with sincere force to remove the cloak, but it wouldn't budge. "Of course, now it knows you're coming at it with the sewing kit and it won't leave my shoulders." 

"Maybe I can work with that?" You shrugged. You threaded the needle and hid it in your hand. 

You approached the cloak, only for it to shove Master Strange in your way like a human shield. 

"Listen, you naughty little blanket." He scolded, turning around to face it as if it were a puppy that had just wrecked the living room. "If you don't let her fix you, you're going in the washing machine. Extra spin." 

It shuddered, and, for a moment, you thought it was going to comply. You slowly took a step forward, only for it to dart as soon as your foot hit the ground. It made its escape with a large crash through the heavy wooden doors of the library. 

"Hey!" You shouted, chasing after it. "Get back here!" 

You caught a glimpse of it headed towards the relic room, so, without thinking, you opened a portal to make it there first. You reached it only seconds before the cloak breached the threshold, with only enough time to grab it by the edge. 

"Come here!" You exclaimed, giving it a full force tug. It tugged back, overpowering you to the tenth degree. It dragged you across the room and into the foyer. You yanked on it, only for it to escape from your grip and send you flying back into the wall. You wondered for a second how such a sturdy piece of fabric could possibly be in need of maintenance. 

"Bastard." You mumbled, rubbing the spot where your head collided with the wall. The pain didn't stop you, though. You were on your feet within seconds, pursuing the naughty blanket all over again. 

You heard the words of one of your many, many masters ringing in your ears; "never outrun what you can outsmart". Or maybe that was from a Garfield comic. Either way, whether or not you could outsmart the cloak was still unknown, but you had to at least try. 

You took a second to catch your breath and tried to remember where you saw it heading next. Downstairs, you thought. To the laundry room. The one place you would never look. 

You slowly but deliberately descended the stairs to the basement where the laundry was. You turned the light on and saw overturned baskets of towels, clothes, and sheets everywhere. And then a washing machine door slammed shut. You turned your head and saw a twinge of dark red hiding in the washing machine. 

You removed your shoes and socks to minimize noise, then picked up a fitted sheet that had been thrown on the ground. You mounted the washing machine and affixed the sheet to the front. The cloak would have to come shooting out the door, and you would ambush it. 

You forced the door open with your heel, holding the sheet like a giant net. As predicted, the cloak shot out like a bullet from a gun, getting caught in the sheet. It thrashed around aimlessly, trying to escape, but you had a tight grip and it wasn't going anywhere. 

"It's curtains for you!" You said, then laughed at your own joke. "Stop struggling!" 

It flailed and fought, but eventually ran out of energy and sunk to the ground. Not trusting it quite yet, you pinned it down with your whole body weight before releasing it from the sheet. As expected, it tried to fly away, but couldn't get anywhere.

"The less you fight, the faster this will go." You said, examining the fabric for any visible tears. The rip presented itself right away. About as long as your hand, right in the center. 

"What did Strange do to you?" You asked, pulling the threaded needle from your pocket. "Hold still, I'm going to fix it." 

Once the needle hit fabric, the cloak stopped trying to fly away and instead writhed about on the floor like it was about to die. You fixed the tear with as many stitches as you could make, then pulled it shut. Once you knew the thread was secure, you rolled off the cloak and let it fly free. 

It shot up, but froze, noticing something was different. It swished itself around, unaccustomed to the feeling of air not blowing right through its center. 

"You're welcome." You said with a shrug. "It's not like I had to chase you all around the sanctum to make it happen." 

Without any warning, the cloak scooped you up and squeezed you. Your initial reaction was that this was its revenge and you were taking your final breaths, but you could tell it was gratitude by the way it gently set you down on the ground. 

"Happy to help." You gasped for air. "Just remember this feeling if I ever have to do this again." 

"Not bad, butterfingers." Master Strange told you, though the tone of his voice conveyed he was impressed beyond a simple 'not bad'. 

"Not bad?" You protested. "I absolutely crushed it." 

He ran his finger down the uneven but sturdy stitching. When his face met yours again, he was smiling with genuine enthusiasm that managed to eek through his dry, sarcastic exterior. It came out as an admittedly very handsome sideways smirk as his eyes scanned you up and down. 

“If you don’t need anything else, I’ll get out of your hair now.” You said, heading towards the open doors. 

“Wait.” The doors slammed shut before you could reach them. You turned around to see Master Strange still examining the stitching. "You wouldn't leave without tea, would you?"

A pot of chai tea sat between you, filling the air with an aroma of spicy vanilla. You held the teacup in both hands, determined to never give him a reason to reinforce the "butterfingers" nickname he'd become so fond of. 

"Chai is my favorite." You said, letting the scent waft into your nose. "Yerba mate used to be my favorite, but if I drink more than two pots of it I get sick." 

"Yeah, definitely don't do that." He chuckled, bobbing his teabag up and down in the cup. "Out of curiosity, are you wondering at all why I invited you to tea?" 

"Oh, definitely." You nodded. "I was just wondering about that." 

"Would you believe it's just because I find you interesting?" He raised an eyebrow. "Good company, perhaps?" 

"Interesting? Absolutely." You agreed. "Good company is debatable." 

"I can't believe I never thought to trap the cloak in the washing machine." He rested his chin in his hand. "It seems so obvious now." 

"If it makes you feel any better," you shrugged. "It was mostly dumb luck and reckless disregard for my own life, considering it almost threw me off the balcony.” 

He glared at the cloak. “What did I tell you about trying to kill our guests?” 

It lowered its collar shamefully in his direction. 

“Don’t apologize to me!” He scolded. “Apologize to her.” 

It turned to face you and repeated the somber motion. 

“It’s okay.” You shrugged. “My family adopted a retired army German Shepherd growing up. I’m used to high-strung creatures that could end my life at any second.” 

“Well, rest assured, butterfingers,” He said, leaning back in his chair. “This will never happen again.”

“I, uh-” You opened your mouth before you could even really pick up on the implication he was putting down. “Wasn’t aware that there would be a chance for it to happen again?” 

“I suppose we should get down to brass tax, then.” He folded his hands in his lap. “How would you like to stay here?”

“Well-” You said, not wanting to come off as too enthusiastic, which you certainly were. “Not if it’s going to kill me-”

“If I could promise you that your life won’t be in constant danger, I would.” He cut you off. “But if you wanted safety, you wouldn’t have started studying the Mystic Arts.”

“Got me there.” You conceded, your made-up objection withering away. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” He shook his head. “I’ll help you train and in return, you help me preserve the integrity of the sanctum.” 

“So an apprenticeship?” Your eyes widened. "Are you saying you want to take me on as an apprentice?" 

“I know you’ve got bad associations with that title, but yes.” He answered. “If it brings back memories of your previous masters treating you like garbage, we can call it a ‘partnership’, if you’d like.” 

Partners with the Sorcerer Supreme? You thought, butterflies materializing in your stomach. 

"That sounds great, but-" You broke eye contact and fidgeted with your fingers. "I feel like I should disclose that it wasn't really all that one-sided. I am… notoriously hard to teach."

"And who told you that?" He tilted his head. "The ones who refused to teach you?" 

You hadn't thought about it that way. "I guess."

"The way I see it, you've repaid your debt and are free to leave," he began. "But seeing how dutifully you reassembled that urn, wrangled my favorite piece of defiant outerwear, and how desperately this place is in need of some life, it might be a good idea to keep you around." 

You put your hand over your chest to still your heart. "It would be an honor." 

"Excellent." He nodded. "That saves me the trouble of having to convince you."

He brought you to a small but comfortable room with a bed and connected bathroom. 

"There's plenty of closet space for all your clothes." He said, gesturing to an antique looking bureau set. 

You dumped your duffel bag out on the bed, revealing the extent of your possessions. "Thanks, but this is all I've got." 

"Travel light, huh?" He asked.

"Yeah, I moved around a lot growing up." You admitted. "Got no real roots and all that jazz." 

"That changes now." He told you. "This is your home now so I want it to feel like it. Make the space your own."

“I don’t know how I can thank you for this.” You lowered your head, still feeling undeserving. 

“Don’t thank me yet, butterfingers.” He chuckled. “I’ve been told I tend to be a little on the egotistical side. That I don’t work well with others.”

"It's actually [F/N], if you were curious." You said, sitting on the bed and folding your hands in your lap. 

"Okay, [F/N]." he smiled. "You've been in and out of enough apprenticeships to know the drill. Early mornings, late nights. And I've got a laundry list of odd jobs for you that I'm too important to do." 

"Naturally." You nodded. His dry self-awareness inspired a little confidence that he wouldn't be a complete tyrant. 

"You did a good job today." He said, bluntly. "Thank you for your help. Keep it up and you'll make an invaluable addition to the sanctum."

You smiled downwards. "Thank you." 

"Do you often sing when you're trying to focus?" He posited. "Just, as an aside." 

You could tell the gears in his neurosurgeon's head were turning, undoubtedly trying to pin some kind of diagnosis on you as doctors were known to do. 

“I guess it’s just a force of habit.” You admitted. “I used to play piano, so when I’m working with my hands, it just kind of happens. My last master was not happy about that.” 

"Oh, screw him." He waved his hand dismissively. "He pissed away an opportunity to nurture a sorceress with a special gift for the sake of tradition. That's a mistake I won't make."

Special gift? You thought. Nobody who practiced the Mystic Arts had ever referred to anything you'd ever done as a 'gift'. Annoyance? sure. A symptom of ADHD? All the time. But 'gift'? That made it sound useful.

[hopefullystillatheatrestudent]

i'm so excited about you taking asks again ahhhh okay so. if you'd absolutely had to choose. what would be your top 5 cockles moments, and why? thank you ily <3

here’s the thing: there are so many routes i could go down with this, because cockles moments come in all shapes and sizes and formats. these include moments from their panels, their bloopers, the footage we get when they don’t even know they’re being recorded, stories being passed down from photo ops & autographs(one of my personal favorite ways to get cockles, tbh, because they’re all insane), and social media(tweets to each other, instagram posts & comments, etc.). 

SO! since many a list like this has already been made, and i want to stand out from the crowd, what i’m gonna do is definitively give the number one spot to each of these five categories.(i might even throw in honourable mentions because they’re so despicably in love that they warrant that. i really put my whole pussy into this, guys, i hope you’re happy.) 

disclaimer: these are my own personal opinions. but that also means i’m right. so. enjoy. 

number one: top cockles panel moment

so we’re starting off with a bang, because how do you even BEGIN to rank what atrocities jensen and misha commit at jibcon. every single one they’ve had is damning in it’s own right, for different reasons.

however, considering just how much unabashed fuckery they’ve given us to sift through, it’s a good thing i do have a personal favorite despite it all. it’s heartwarming, the sweetest thing i’ve ever seen, AND it’s jarringly cinematic - mainly because it has a whole ass arc to it that was years in the making. it might even be surprising to some people, but my favorite cockles panel moment, and what i consider the one that encompasses their entire gut-wrenching journey from 2008-2013 in the most sweepingly romantic gesture possible, is this one.

i want this burned into my retinas. i am not even joking. when i'm through with my explanation, let me convince you why this is thee most romantic cockles moment of all time.

first, some history: people call this the resume off, but many seem to forget the botched attempt at a resume off a year prior. and yes, you guessed it: it's during their break up. it's a juicy time period for a reason, guys. it came across as exceedingly one-sided and VERY awkward. let me refresh your memory as to just how bad it was, and just how hard jensen was trying and ultimately failing at winning misha over: the funniest part of the whole resume off in 2013??? every joke/bit had literally already been made/done. they were just going through the motions again, but the difference THIS time...is that misha reciprocated jensen's energy. it. is. fascinating. i want to get into it more detail in another post, and i'll link it here when i'm done, but the main takeaway, i think, and the main difference that showcases how much they've grown in a year, is that in jib 3, misha flat out refused to do an accent, and this time around, he indulges jensen for literal minutes. when i tell you they're crazy, they're crazy. i can't wait to actually dive into it later.

ANYWAY, the resume off culminates in this moment here. and, like, a million things happen in this gifset. actually, more like a million and one. the music starts playingneediremindyouthatthesongissingingintherain(h e l p), misha starts dancing, jensen 'perpetually fake grumpy' ackles lets misha think he's not going to join, misha sits down defeated, but no!!! that was jensen's plan all along(look at his stupid fucking smirk) and he offers his arm to his dance partner who immediately grins like a fool, jensen then leads misha into their kick step, they perfectly synchronise and let loose, and are then very clearly having the time of their lives, hanging off of each other with joy and ease. from their expressions alone i can tell that this moment is so. so. so. so! much more than what initially meets the eye. i mean-misha is fighting back the biggest smile i've ever seen. to me, it reads like jensen is offering something to misha, something that misha kind of gave up on expecting, and him offering his arm like that is like, a surprise to him in the best possible way(and it's so not platonic, let me just say that.) as soon as jensen did that, it ushered in a new era of cockles. this panel is jensen and misha's favourite for a reason, and i think this moment is the biggest clue as to why.

whew!!! ok. that took a lot out of me and that was only point one. moving on,

number two: top cockles blooper moment

cockles bloopers hold an extremely special place in my heart, because it shows just how fucking disastrous jensen and misha are. they are so goddamn infatuated with each other that they HOLD UP PRODUCTION ALL THE TIME TO FLIRT WITH EACH OTHER(???). let me repeat. let it sink in. jensen ackles; arguably one of the most professional actors on that show who puts everything he has into each scene, with mountains and mountains of notes to prove it: would rather hold up production to flirt with misha collins. this sounds fake. it's not. he does it. all. the. time. and here's the thing guys!!! i'm gonna let you in on a secret!!! misha loves it. he loveesssss it. on top of that-misha collins: overlooked because he's pranked and people assume he's unprofessional as well, but his only pranks are in retaliation/off-set, and he rarely if EVER causes problems if he can help it....lets himself get carried away when it comes to jensen making kissy faces at him!!! are you actually kidding me!!! i mean. misha. it's just a face. you've seen it a million times. i don't buy that it triggers something in you that strongly....you like it, and you like jensen's reaction. you can't fool me!!! lisa berry's face in that one gifset shows just how fed up the crew is with their gross, coupley boyfriend antics.

i could pull up so many examples. sooooooo many. but my favourite was sealed since the moment i saw it.

i actually already wrote an analysis on it but i can't find it :(((( which SUCKS because i really unpacked the whole thing. i'll try to summarise.

basically, a backstory is part of this too!!! jensen and misha both had a really really hard time with this scene(because it's explicitly romantic there i said it), they sat down for hours and poured over their scripts together, they were super super nervous going into filming, both of them, jensen especially, were super hard on themselves for their performances not being true to their characters but they both complimented the other's work(boyfriend moments fr). so, yeah. they weren't confident going into shooting. and how do they get themselves to feel better???? by cuddling each other, apparently.

a lot. a LOT. happens in this specific blooper. to the point that i saw it years before i knew about cockles and it raised all sorts of flags for me.

1) stop pulling my face towards your crotch(as a thinly veiled request that misha would, in fact, move jensen's face towards his crotch, considering it was jensen moving himself there in the first place. also, why so comfy down there guys???) 2) you're my baby daddy i know(in the most intimate voice i've ever heard please) 3) i know, i know, i love you too i didn't say i love you i know but you wanted to say it etc. misha's right, of course. that's what jensen meant.

it just reeks of comfort, familiarity and intimacy between the two, and it's a moment that is extremely sweet and silly at the same time. they're so <3

number three: top cockles found footage moment

WONDERFUL category. truly the culmination of the cockles experience. many people have said that shipping cockles doesn't work because 'they're just onstage you dummies!! they're playing it up for the audience!!!' here's the thing, love. i could not disagree with you more. once you climb your way up the cockles ladder, you soon learn that they are, in fact, playing their dynamic DOWN, not up. they really are just Like That™, and they could not care less about the paying audience, if we're being honest, considering how much time they take to giggle with each other and refuse to let the audience in on the joke. and i love them for it <3

anyway, my point is that this category is for all you naysayers out there, all you 'jensen and misha's relationship is just for show and is real life queerbaiting'(?????lordhelp???) oh yeah? ok, explain this.

he. he. he calls jensen sweetheart. literally enough said. there's nothing to really add here, except, misha and jared then immediately engage in damage control. jared's method is distraction and misha's is retconning('get out of the car, dude') this was what got me to buy into the cockles dumpster for GOOD good. you don't call your buddy sweetheart accidentally and sound so completely earnest while doing it! especially not when that buddy is jensen ackles!!! you think he would let any of his friends call him that? do you?

one more thing; if it was a slip of the tongue, little mouth thing or whatever, you think jared wouldn't have jumped on it immediately??? i can hear it now. 'did you just call him SWEETHEART???' yeah. that's what i thought. you know why he didn't? because it was too revealing.

number four: top cockles autograph moment

i mean, i think we all know what it's gonna be, and if you don't, well, do i have the piece de cockles resistance that is gonna send you over the edge.

if you haven't heard of this story by now, as a cockles, truther, i'm gonna go ahead and get you to read it, because there is no possible heterosexual explanation for any of it, and you're fooling yourself if you think otherwise.

spoiler alert: it's the story where phones weren't allowed in an auto session, jensen nuzzles himself in misha's hair, leans his full body weight onto him, holds his hand, etc. etc. i'm imploding just repeating this back, actually. also, just, the sheer amount of stories from photo ops where they tackle hug each other or slap each other's asses or sing romantic songs to each other or almost kiss is, frankly, a lot. if i could wish for anything, it would be to witness them in person.

and finally,

number five: top cockles social media moment

this one is super difficult, because there's obviously a lot to choose from. but you know what? full send, i'm going with this one:

i just. what to say about this. how often do misha and jensen watch sunsets together for it to qualify as ‘always’ ??? why are sunsets synonymous with their relationship??? that’s like??? a very romantic thing????? ‘this guy’??? the fact that it’s a CANDID??? i don’t know guys.

that could have been better but i am TIRED so. there you go rose ily