#im sure ill either eventually get around to them or move on with you guys

[autonomousxselves]

//aaa i have a few drafts i wanna continue but im having trouble coming up with a response for...if we have a thread that youve been waiting on a reply to for 2-4 weeks now please feel free to IM me so we can plot it or i may just message you other memes a d starters later lol

in terms of drafts and inbox to answer ive got 3 prompt asks, 2 long threads, and 2 threads im trying to figure out

[bunnyreaper]

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝖕𝖙 1 — 𝖕𝖙 2 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 wc - 5.7k warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, eventual romance/smut, medium burn? notes - first part of my owner!soap x pet!reader, woohoo! i already regret writing something centered around texting and calling lmao, crying!! the formatting is killing me!! anyway, also on ao3! and if you wanna send a request, pls do! ♥

Lonely girl looking for owner. 

Posting on this subreddit again was probably a mistake—but a deep-down part of you clings to the hope that this time will be the time you find someone, the time you get to go home to him. 

At least this time, you'll be better at spotting the signs right off the bat—if only you can take off the rose-tinted glasses long enough to take note.

Your inbox is flooded with the usual kinds of messages—unsolicited pictures, low-effort one-sentence wonders, and so-called doms jumping straight to the part where they call you a nasty whore with no actual consideration for the person you are. 

You're just about to give up, delete the post, and ignore all chat requests when a message arrives in your inbox. 

From: squeakycleanscot 

Subject: Lonely guy looking for girl

Hi,

Saw your post and knew I had to message. You sound like everything I'm looking for and more.

I'm a little younger than the age you put on your post, but I think I fit your other requirements. I'm 27, Scottish (yes, with the accent), and in the army, I hope that's a turn-on rather than a turn-off.

When I'm not deployed, I like cosy nights in, preferably with my love by my side. Don't mind a night at the pub either, especially if there's a Celtic match on, not that anywhere near here shows them. 

I'm looking for something longer term like you mentioned (would love to collar my girl one day, which is probably ironic considering I'm a wee bit scared of dogs.)

Happy to send a picture if you'd like :) 

Hope to hear from you soon, 

Johnny.

Johnny. 

You reread the message, turning his words over in your mind. 

Something about his message has your attention—it at least suggests he has a brain in his head and a heart capable of empathy, and that maybe he's serious. 

You begin typing your reply instantly, your fingers moving so fast you have to type and retype so many parts to rid the message of all of the overexcited mistakes.

hi johnny, 

scottish?! is it bad im already imagining how your dirty talk will sound? 

it's funny, i always wanted to join the army growing up, but it never worked out. maybe it's for the best as now i'm not immune to enjoying a hot man in uniform... which I'm assuming you are ;) 

cosy nights in are my favourite too! I'm a bit of a homebody and love being snuggled up more than anything. i have to let you know in advance that you have some stiff competition in the form of my giant teddy bear, barnaby. 

i'm looking for something longer term too, or at least not a one night kind of thing—a collar one day would be the dream <;3 

if you send a picture, ill send one back, nothing sexy just yet though, if that's okay? 

have you met up with someone off here before? just curious about your experiences! 

y/n

As soon as the message is sent, the overthinking kicks in—was that too much? Is he going to think you're weird? 

You shuffle in bed, turning over between the sheets and trying to flick through other apps as you wait for a reply—otherwise, you'd just be staring at the notifications bar waiting for that silly little robot face to pop up. 

Johnny doesn't leave you waiting long, only a few minutes passing from your last message.

Maybe you'll find out sooner rather than later just how my dirty talk sounds ;) 

I tried to sneak in before I was old enough, but they caught on. Served since I was 18 though, you'll have a lot of stories ready from me if you're ever willing to listen. Not sure if the uniform is anything like you're thinking though, in my unit it's mostly just t-shirts, tac vests and trousers. 

I'll prepare my best snuggling arms for if we ever meet. You should inform Barnaby now about his replacement, mind. 

Can't not send a sexy photo though, sorry lass, all my pictures are. I'm sure you understand, lol

Haven't met anyone, had a few conversations but nothing worth pursuing, and had kind of given up until I saw your post. 

His message is the perfect mix of sexy, sweet, and sincere—and if that is the essence of the man, you know he's everything you're looking for. 

You try not to think too hard about a hot Scottish accent calling you all your favourite names or telling you exactly what to do, or even those stories he has to tell, as the idea is all too exciting. 

Reading his message, you instinctively reach out to pat Barnaby when you see he may end up replaced—hopefully the poor bear will understand when he has to vacate the bed for this sexy soldier man. 

looking forward to it. can I start putting in requests now for bedtime stories too?

i still wanna see, maybe in your sexy-not-sexy pic? 

barnaby will be devastated by the news, and you may have to give him hugs too (but not for too long, or i'll get lonely!!!)

same here, about things not going anywhere... or people turning out to be a bit scary, so you're not allowed to let me down, okay? 

Maybe the last part of the message was too much, but your heart is already soaring with unbridled hope—along with that hope comes doubt too. 

Each second waiting for a reply drags, and you take to re-reading his messages and clicking on his profile to investigate. 

It's largely empty of posts, but there are tons of comments across different communities—including his aforementioned football team, r/Scotland, and eyebleach. 

Clearly, he's a softie at heart. 

When his next message comes through, it's an Imgur link with a short message. 

Here we go, a few months old though now. Don't have anything more recent from work :) 

You take a moment or two to steady yourself before you tap the link. While you definitely feel like you and Johnny have already started to click, if he's not your type then it probably won't go anywhere... 

It's a situation you've been in before—great conversation, similar interests but no physical attraction, and back then you didn't have the heart to break it off straight away.

You tap the link and are greeted by a full-body shot of a tall, well-built man in tactical clothes. His hair is a neatly trimmed mohawk, and while his face isn't crystal clear, he's clearly fucking handsome. His biceps bulge from the gray tee stretched over his torso, his large hands are covered with gloves and grasping a gun.

Your eyes trail to his long legs, thick thighs encased in camo and strapped with various holsters. All in all, the picture is perfect. You find yourself zooming in desperately to get a better look at his face, the handsome jaw lined with stubble that you can already imagine between your legs. The whole image and every new detail has you squirming in your bed, and cheekily wishing to save the image to your phone.

holyfwucj 

holy fuck 

Like what you see? 

i need a hug from you urgently. 

now i feel shy... 

It had crossed your mind ever so slightly that Johnny may be out of your league, or that he simply may not be attracted to someone like you, which would be a complete shame. Now you've set eyes on him, you want him even more—want to kneel at those feet and stare up at his hulking figure while he tugs on a leash around your neck. 

Hopefully, just like you, he'll be smitten from the first glance. 

Scrolling through your camera roll, you decide you don't exactly love any recent photos of yourself. The ones at your last work event have you looking far too corporate, and the only image from your last night out was taking in a bathroom mirror in the local Wetherspoons—neither of which is ideal. 

You crawl out from the warmth of your sheets, kneeling on the end of the bed and posing as you point your camera in the mirror that sits across the room and captures you perfectly. Before you start snapping, you adjust your top to make sure too much isn't on display, even though it's strappy and cropped, and definitely a little bit more on the tantalising side as far as your pyjamas go. 

Hopefully, Johnny likes the pose and the outfit... and you. You can see your smiling face just to the side of your phone as you press to capture the picture—and when you return to your inbox to send the picture link, a message is waiting for you. 

I already know you're gorgeous. Don't leave me hanging, bonnie. 

okay. this is me now, all ready for bed!! 

Holy fuck yourself.

And I'm assuming that's Barnaby in the background. 

If he notices the pose, he doesn't comment on it, instead delighting your heart by commenting on Barnaby instead.

sure is! he's ready for snuggles and sleep. 

Can you do me a favour? 

That message makes your heart skip because usually when something like that is asked, it's followed with a request for nudes or something sexual—and while that is a large part of something like this, you crave the connection first, crave someone actually sticking around and getting to know you. 

depends on what it is!

Tell Barnaby to keep looking after you until I get there, yeah? 

does that mean you're coming for me?

One day, if we're both lucky.

seems promising so far, Johnny. 

Get some sleep, yeah? Maybe tomorrow night I'll give you a bell. 

The idea of this conversation ending is heart-wrenching, but at least sleep will bring you closer to that possible phone call. Hearing his voice, now that will be even more incredible. 

how do you expect me to sleep after telling me that? so mean! 

Patience, bonnie. Be good for me? 

You clench, your thighs squeezing together as arousal rushes through you. It's like he knows exactly how far to go, what buttons to press, what you're looking for.

It's the right kind of commanding, toeing the line perfectly between flirtatious and in charge. A lot of guys you've talked to have rushed it made commands too early, and sent you running. Johnny's words, be good for me? You can't help but want to behave. 

okay, but I see how this is going to be :( 

Bet you look so fucking good with a pout ;) 

now you're just being a cruel tease, Johnny... 

Sorry, I'll stop. Sleep, yeah, for me?

cuddling up to barnaby now. 

You decide to attach another picture, your eyes screwed shut and cheeks squished as you wrap yourself around the bear and cuddle up under the sheets. 

talk tomorrow?

Of course, bonnie, sweet dreams <;3 

You lock your phone, your eyes feeling relieved as they adjust to the darkness. 

For a brief moment, you just clutch your phone to your chest and recall the picture Johnny had sent, how much you'd love to be wrapped up in his arms tonight. 

He's the only thing on your mind as you drift off to sleep.

-//-

Your dreams are tumultuous, starting off with a nightmare of being chased and chased until your legs give out, only for you to find salvation and safety in a stranger's arms—one who seemed vaguely familiar. 

The first thing you do when you wake is roll over to check your phone, elation overtaking you when you see a notification from Johnny already waiting there—already he's blessing you with a good morning message.

Good morning, sweet girl.

Attached under the picture is another image link, and clicking on it brings up an absolutely gorgeous picture of Johnny, lazing in bed. There's just enough light in the room for you to see the brightness of his eyes that you couldn't see before—his mohawk is mussed, and his smile is easy, drawing you in. 

He's even more handsome in this up close photo, you can only imagine what he looks like in person, right before you. 

morning Johnny <3 how did you sleep? 

Like a baby. Yourself? 

not the best, but I swear you were in my dream. 

Sorry to hear that, but oh already? What did I do? 

I mean, it was a bulky guy with a mohawk but he didn't have your name, I think it was meant to be you though. 

You recall the safety you felt in the arms of the strange figure, it was serene, and everything you hope to feel when you find the one—hopefully that's Johnny.

My dreams were shite, you didn't show up. 

i'll try harder to be there tonight!! 

Promise? 

promise. 

God, he's so fucking sweet. It's hard to imagine he's into all the things you mentioned in your initial post, at least right now. But you're all too familiar with how appearances can be deceiving—you wonder what else your sweet Scot is into. 

You peel back the covers and head out into the kitchen, flicking the kettle on mindlessly as you keep your eyes fixated on the screen—not wanting to be even a minute late to answering Johnny's texts, even though it seems there's a natural lull in the conversation. 

You return your focus to making your tea, and your thoughts don't drift from Johnny for even a moment, as you ponder ways to keep the conversation going. Admittedly, you have a million and one questions you want, but you don't want to come across too... eager? clingy? Like some serial killer fiending for information? 

It's crazy the way your heart yearns for him so soon—and it's crazy the way that you wish he feels the same as you do. You wonder how his day is going, and if he's staring at your phone waiting for your message.

With tea brewed, you set it on the coffee table and flop onto the plush couch, rushing to open the app when a new notification pops up.

What's your plan for the day? 

lazy day, binge-watching... texting you? wbu? 

I have to work for a bit, but I'll message you when I can. 

On a weekend? That's horrible, but I imagine they run a tight ship over there. 

You rush to follow up your message with something else. 

will you still be able to call tonight? 

Aye, give me your number, I'll save it! 

You send off your number and don't hear anything from Johnny for a good few hours. You pass the time watching one of your favourite shows, and trying to resist the urge to go scroll down Johnny's profile once more.  

The next time a message pops up, it's well past lunch.

Cute profile pic on whatsapp.

Johnny has clearly added your number to his contacts and spied your picture on the app. You blush thinking of him seeing you in that costume—especially after he knows what you're into.

it was Halloween, I swear!! 

You make an adorable little kitten, lass.

imagination running wild now? ;) 

Aye, but I'm a gent. 

hopefully not always...

Oh, you'll see. Talk to you tonight, kitty. 

talk to you then &lt;;3 

Now you're just itching, waiting for the hours to crawl by for Johnny's workday to end, so you can talk to him again, so you can finally hear his voice. 

What will it sound like saying your name? Whispering sweet nothings in your ears? 

The hours pass slowly until a different notification lights up your phone as you cuddle into your sheets.

Hey, it's Johnny! Just got home. 

You scramble to click on the pop-up, spying his own profile picture in the corner—tapping on it to view it closer. 

It's the Johnny you recognise, smiling wide with his arm slung around another man. He looks so ridiculously happy, probably due to the pint in his other hand. The more you look at him, the more you can't believe you're talking to this man, that he wants to talk to you. 

You quickly add him to your contacts, putting a heart next to his name, before you return to the chat and begin to type.

i'm not the only one with a cute pfp!! 

Three sheets to the wind in that picture, actually.

i can tell &lt;3

Ready to call? 

whenever you're ready!

The image of him floods your screen, the screen pulsing as it waits for you to accept. Your fingers tremble as you press the button, and you fall silent as you press the phone to your ear, nerves gripping at your throat. 

"Hi, bonnie." His voice drifts from the phone speaker, sweet like honey and warm like sunshine, with that gorgeous accent too. 

"Hi." You squeak out, silently cursing at yourself for being so nervous and seemingly unable to speak. 

A melodic laugh follows your words, amused but not cruel or mocking. "Are you nervous?" His voice is soothing, his concern and sweet nature evident. 

You cradle your burning cheek, feeling the way your blush spreads across your smiling face. "Just a little, can you blame me?" 

He's laughing again, and you hear a shuffling noise that suggests he's getting comfortable. "Don't be, I'll look after yer, I promise." 

Fuck. You could get used to hearing that. "I really like your voice." You admit, whispering into the phone with a ridiculous grin on your face. 

"I like yours too, you sound so sweet." 

You drop your voice lower, giggling mischievously. "Only sometimes." 

"That's what I like ta hear." The way Johnny's voice dips as he says that has your insides fluttering, but you can only assume he's returning the favour. His tone returns to its usual charming tone as he asks, "How was your lazy day?" 

"Well, I kind of spent a fair bit of it distracted, thinking about this important call I was going to have tonight..." 

"Oh aye, I should get off the phone so you can wait then." 

"Funny. How was yours? What do you even do day to day, anyway?" You ask, voice brimming with curiosity—there are so many things you want to ask, but you imagine his job can be secretive. 

"Lots of training, and sometimes paperwork, which is right shite." 

"Not when you don't have someone under the desk keeping you company." You laugh, taking the chance to flirt. If you were into Johnny after reading his messages, actually hearing his voice is only making your attraction soar. 

A quiet fuck can be heard, as the man on the end of the phone heaves out a breath. "I'll have ta look into getting you clearance if you keep talking like that, lass." 

"Glad to be of service, what can I say?" You find yourself in a giggle fit at your own silliness, a mix of nerves and joy at enjoying yourself so much.

"God, I love yer laugh." The deep sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten. 

The drug that is Johnny is already so intoxicating. 

"I'm so glad you can't see me blushing." 

"I'm no'." He sounds so indignant about that. "But I could listen to that laugh all day, really."

If only he could see you pout too. "Now you're just trying to make me blush more." 

He chuckles, his voice dropping dangerously flirtatious again. "Maybe I am, nothing you can do about it."

"Now I'm pouting." 

"Better not pout in front of me, lass." His suggestive tone makes you shiver. 

"Oh, why's that?" You ask, playing coy. 

"'Cause I'll just have to start kissing ya, might even nibble on those soft little lips." 

You suppress a delighted squeak, already so flustered at even the idea of a kiss. "I'm not hearing a downside." 

"No?" 

"Nope." 

"Might not be gentle with you, though." 

"Good thing that I like it rough." The words are out of you before you can reconsider, but they have exactly the effect you intend as you hear Johnny inhale sharply.

"Ach, you and yer wicked mouth." 

"You have no idea..." 

He lets out a rough exhale, his voice turning gravelly and deep. "Fuck, bonnie." 

"Hey, I'm only repaying the favour, I've been squirming desperately pretty much since I picked up the phone." 

He whistles approvingly, his voice now teasing and playfully menacing. "Just you wait til I'm really in ya head." 

"You're already making good progress." You admit.

"Oh aye?" 

You hum contentedly, eyes flickering shut for a moment. "I'll be imagining your voice as I fall asleep tonight." 

"I'll just have ta send yer voice notes to drift off to, so I can end up in your dreams again." You can almost hear the smirk in his voice. 

"Already spoiling me, too." 

Fuck, how is it this man seems to know exactly what to say? Everything that comes out of his mouth takes root in your brain and sends your thoughts running wild—it's like he's already in your head, or as if someone made him in a lab.

"I'll spoil ya every day, if you're ever mine." 

You groan in frustration, unbelieving that a stranger can be so seemingly perfect. "How are you even single, Johnny?" 

"I could ask you the same. Taking everything in me to not ask for an address right now, if I'm being honest." He huffs a laugh. 

While the idea is thrilling, you know you should have at least some sense of preservation, and shouldn't blurt out your postcode for this strange man you barely know. "I'm worth the wait, I swear." You whisper your promise. 

"I'm sure yer are. But to answer your question, my work keeps me busy a lot, and this lifestyle isn't for everyone." There's a hint of vulnerability to his voice, and you sense such a fact is a sore point in his personal life. 

In the fantasy of all of this, you suppose the reality of the situation isn't something you'd stopped to consider. Life for a man in the military was surely so different from a regular 9-5. "I'm guessing that you're away a lot?" 

"Aye, sometimes for just a few days, sometimes for months, all depends." His admission is soft, as if you can hear in his tone that he's waiting for you to bolt. 

If that's the big 'catch' when it comes to Johnny, you can breathe a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I guess you need someone strong and loyal to hold on and wait for you." 

There's a tense silence, something lingering in the air. 

"Hard to come by, I've found." 

The thought makes your stomach twist in the worst possible way. Johnny, at least on the surface, seems so worthy of love. 

You chance the question that's on the tip of your tongue, hoping Johnny doesn't mind your reckless curiosity. "Have... you been cheated on?" 

"More than once, gets less surprising over the years." He finishes with a sad laugh, as you can tell he tries to infuse humour into the whole thing. 

"That's... horrible." 

Being sent away from your home to face gunfire and warfare, all to keep the people back home safe... only to be betrayed by the people back home who love you, who are supposed to wait for you. It's a gut-wrenching thought, and your heart aches for the man.

"A few of the lads here have a similar story." 

"So the army, not for the faint of heart, and dating an army man, not for the faint of heart." You sigh, though you don't feel put off by the thought.  

"Exactly. That you then? Faint of heart?" 

"No. I mean, inside I'm clingy as hell, and I'd miss you like crazy every day until you got back..." Your emotions overtake you, as you imagine a future where you'd have to kiss the man goodbye for maybe months at a time. "But I get the feeling that what we could have would be worth the wait. Hypothetically of course." 

At that, Johnny laughs, and his light tone returns. "Don't want to get too far ahead of ourselves, aye." 

You don't want to get ahead of yourself, you know you shouldn't, but the way you and Johnny have clicked is unlike anything you've felt before. "But... I have a good feeling." 

"I do too, already dreading putting down the phone." 

"I'm not planning on it anytime soon, even if I have to be up early tomorrow." 

"So do I, alarms set for 4." 

You do not envy his lifestyle one bit.

"That's awful! I'm gonna be so cranky tomorrow, I might have to use my lunch break for a nap." You admit, preemptively yawning into your hand. 

"You one of those perpetually sleepy girls?" 

You nod, even though he can't see it. "The sleepiest." 

"Barnaby is a lucky bear, getting to cuddle up to you so much." 

You burst out laughing at the hint of envy in his words. "Are you... jealous?"

"For now, but soon the tables will turn." He faked an evil laugh, that only makes you giggle harder. 

"Oh, you think you can give better snuggles than him?" 

"Oh, I know I can, bonnie. The bear can't wrap his arms around yer, can't whisper sweet things in your ear..." His voice dips back into that seductive, teasing tone. "... Can't trail his hands down to that pretty little pussy." 

Once more, you flush with desire, every nerve alight as Johnny's words wash over you—although it seems like almost everything he says has your body reacting. "You have an interesting way of cuddling, Johnny."

"Didnae say I was actually gonna do anything once my hands got down there." 

"Well, I wouldn't be opposed." 

"When you're in my arms, you wouldn't have a choice, lass." The dark, dominant voice makes you shiver, makes your submissive instincts awaken. 

"Oh yeah?" 

He hums slowly. "Once you're mine, you leave the choices to me. Johnny knows best, yeah?" 

"Johnny knows best." You whisper breathlessly, the words coming out automatically, like they just feel right.

"Steamin' Jesus, can already tell yer gonna be the death of me." 

"Can't have that, your family won't get your death in service payout!" You laugh awkwardly, before a sense of guilt rears its head. "Sorry, grim joke." 

"I don't mind. You should hear some of the ones my Lt. comes out with, he's a right sick bastard." He chuckles.

"Never want to make light of it and hurt you, though." 

"Telling jokes makes it easier hen, you'll be wishing me dead in no time at all."  

You gasp, shocked by the prospect. "I'd never!" 

"Not even when I deny you from touching yourself for my entire deployment? Months of nothing at all?" The sick grin is evident in his voice. 

"You wouldn't, that's so mean. You're too sweet for that." 

"Aye, for now, but don't you like a little bit of meanness, if yer into men like me..." The edge to his voice and the truth to your words has you trembling. 

"Maybe..." You singsong in response, not wanting to give away just how much you liked the idea of his mean side. 

"Bonnie..." He tuts disapprovingly. "Don't play coy." 

You shudder out a breath as you squeeze your thighs together for relief. "I just don't want you to bully me too much right now, I'm already soaked." 

"Is that right?" He seems delightfully surprised by such a revelation. 

"Mhmm." 

"I'm fucking rock hard if it helps, think I have been since last night..." You hear him shuffle, and you try not to imagine what's happening on the other end of the line, or how he looks lying in bed with said hardness.

When he groans hungrily down the line, you feel yourself quake once more. "The sight of you on your fucking knees... Christ alive." 

You can't help but giggle at your unintended teasing. "It wasn't on purpose, I thought it was cute more than anything." 

"Adorable and naughty, could cum just looking at it." He huffs. 

"You're just flattering me, besides, I could say the same about your picture."

Every part of you flushes thinking of the first photo he sent, all muscle and alpha male—it's like he was the physical embodiment of dominance, and just looking at him makes you want to kneel.

"You like the military get up?" 

"Love it, more than I probably should." 

"Oh aye, bet you'd love for me to order you around?" His words are playful, but underpinned with a hint of promise. "All in due time, eh?" 

"All in due time. What's your rank, anyway?" 

"Sergeant." 

"Wait..." You take a deep breath as you consider your question. "Can I ask for your last name or is it too soon?" 

"Mactavish."

Johnny Mactavish—you should remember to give that a quick Google search later.

"Sergeant Mactavish." You test the name on your tongue, trying to imagine him at work, following and giving orders. 

"Sounds too good when you say it, bonnie." He laughs. 

"Thank you, sergeant." Your affectation of the word is entirely intentional, as you attempt to rile him up with the use of his title. 

The throaty groan that leaves him is addictive.

"What else do you like to be called?" 

"Depends on what you want to call me really, but I like... sir." 

"I like it too, will have to remember that for the future, and just torture you with sergeant in the meantime." You can't help but giggle as you flirt. 

"Oh don't worry, am keeping score." He growls playfully. "Wait til I get ma hands on you, bonnie." 

"You're keeping score?" You gasp, a heady mix of fear and arousal coursing through you almost urges you to be even more of a teasing brat.

"Aye, spanking arm at the ready." 

"My pouting lips are ready." 

"Won't be the only thing you use them lips for."

Fuck fuck fuck. Not that you hadn't thought about it already, hadn't already let your mind drift to what his cock might look like—whether it matches the size of the man—now you're definitely thinking about it. Fixated on it, craving it. 

Some cards are best kept close to your chest so early on, so you change tack and go a different direction with his flirtation. "Yeah, with you in the room, I'd probably be smiling a whole lot." 

The two of you continue to chat, you asking what you can about his work as he asks about yours, and you fill him in on the boring world you live in, which seems especially boring in comparison to taking down cartels and traveling the world.

The conversation never stops being easy, the flirtation and innuendo always right there at the tip of your tongues as you tease each other relentlessly—giving as good as you get. All night, you're practically grinding against your duvet as you get lost in Johnny's dulcet tones, and you find yourself just letting him speak for the sake of getting to hear more of his voice.

As Johnny is about to ask you more about your background, you're overcome with a harsh yawn that you desperately try to stifle. Your eyes have been shut for the last hour at least, but with the command Johnny has over your nervous system right now, it's been easy to stay awake. 

"Tired, bonnie?" He asks, voice laced with sweet concern.

"Yeah..." Your voice falls quiet, as the thought of ending the call makes your throat constrict. "But I don't wanna stop talking." 

"Me either, but av got bad news." 

You know what's coming, and you know it isn't remotely anywhere near the end of the world, despite what your heart is telling you right now. "Go on." 

"I have to go." Even he sounds sad about such an outcome. 

"It's not even that late?" The clock reads 2 am. 

"Gotta get a wee bit of sleep before I hit the gym, and then get off ta work. Don't you have work too?" 

"Work from home tomorrow, so it's not too bad. Not fair though, I wanna keep talking." You admit quietly. It's too much too soon, but you're overwhelmed, the tide of your emotions crashing over the edges.

"Tell yer what. Next time we call, we can try leaving it on while we sleep."

Your heart flips, as you almost whimper at how cute the gesture is. "Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?"

"Obviously." There's that gorgeous laugh again. "Is it working?" 

"Just a little, but that might be the lack of sleep talking, I might be going slightly insane." 

Johnny sighs, and it's clear he's battling to keep a handle on his self-control. "Rest, bonnie, I won't be able to work knowing you're not sleepin'" 

You sigh too, accepting your fate. "Okay, just for you." 

"Just want what's best for you, you need your sleep."  

Your head spins at how utterly sincere he sounds—the care in his voice after such a short amount of time serves to drive you even deeper into this infatuation. "Already?" 

"Can't turn it off, am just protective by nature, bonnie. If you were my girl, you'd have a bedtime." 

And that makes your cunt clench and your heart soar. "Johnny..." You whine.

"Yeah?" 

You hesitate to say what you want to say next, but everything within you is calling out for him, desperate to be in his arms. "Don't make me wait too long to meet you, please." 

His laughter is sweet, conveying a sense of understanding more than anything. "I'll try ma best, supposed to be off on Friday." 

"5 whole days."

"Sure you don't wanna wait a bit longer?" 

You shake your head, mumbling a sound to convey your feelings. "Feels right, don't know how to describe it... do you feel it too?" 

Johnny takes a deep breath, his voice shaking slightly as he speaks. "I do, lass." 

"Good." You couldn't even attempt to fight the idiotic grin on your face, or how warm you feel inside and out. "I'll get some sleep, talk soon." 

"Goodnight, bonnie. Sweet dreams."  

You wait for Johnny to end the call, not wanting to push the button yourself and have his presence fade away. When your screen dims, you resist the urge to text him more, opting instead to put your phone on charge and roll over to Barnaby—wishing it was Johnny instead. 

[szilverer]

hewwo

made this blog primarily to dump oc content & maaaybe liveblog a bit! (its my first time engaging in a fandom space like this so im pretty lost, do lemme know if i mess up with tagging or etiquette or smth. more about me here.)

my FL acc is from 2016 but i only really started playing this august! ive finished my ambition now but theres still a lot i dont know about the lore n stuff. IGN is Hreisz, feel free to send a CC or even just random in-character letters & menace help reqs.

im always open to asks/interactions here as well, just keep in mind i might take A While to respond as i am but an hermit with the barest of executive functions

trying to use this hyperfixation to practice digital art so there'll be random experimental doodles here as i try to find out wtf i am doing. everytime i open a canvas its a surprise. youve been warned

tags:

#chaindoodles -> art tag, #chainrambles -> text tag

#the twilight phantom -> the blorbo

#nightmarriage -> my blorbo hoards trash. block this to be spared from witnessing their latest questionable decision

content warning tags:

#light fingers spoilers

#suggestive in case i draw (or write?) smth that can be perceived as saucy, spicy, horn knee, overtly kinky or implied nsfw. there wont be anything Actually explicit here though

i like #blood and injuring my characters both mentally and physically. so uh. that. possibly violence.?

??

#poor edward

So who's this "Twilight Phantom"?

nearly everything about H_______ Reisz is dictated by my actions playing FL, so they're developing in real time. been lots of fun to see this clean slate (and i mean clean - i knew nothing about the setting, the lore, or who they were, so naturally, this guy didn't either) get shaped by the narrative And my mechanical wiki-fueled decisions.

ill make a better, dedicated post eventually but for now have a vague intro + some refs under the cut:

The first thing you notice about them is the cowl lazily draped around their head and shoulders, swaying behind their back like a cape in the colours of sunrise-- or, perhaps most familiarly, the velvety twilight that the newest star every so often provides to London.  The second thing is the deep scars covering one side of their face, and the third thing would probably be the heavy eyebags under their sharp, dark eyes.

A relatively freshly-minted Silverer, H. Reisz spends more time in Parabola than London nowadays. Not that they had been in London for too long anyway, and it's not like anyone knows where they were before that either. The surface, yes, but it's a big world out there, right? They don't actually remember seeing the sun, or the sky, but H cannot deny the soft colours of twilight and sunrise have a special place in their heart. They recognise it without the memory of experiencing it, just like they recognised love in the depths of a certain Labyrinth. Hmm, two Labyrinths, actually. There was that one heiress too... and the Orphanage was inside one hell of a maze too... if they had a coin every time they found themself inside labyrinths, they'd... Uh, where were we? Well, anyway, being a new face, they had nothing to be known for so they simply gave out their surname instead. Or well, what they assumed to be their surname. "H. REISZ" were the letters sewn-in on a diminute corner of the tattered black veil that wrapped their head back when they woke up for the "first" time. They were surrounded by near-empty bottles of dried mouldy honey, absinthe, and who knows what else. Ah, the decadence... they couldn't even remember what honey could do at the time but they could recognise the stench of self-destruction right away, haha.  Alas, if things were so bad they got to that point-- maybe this explains why moving on was so easy. Maybe they had somehow lobotomized themself on purpose. Who knows? They sure don't. It was only now, a year or so after waking up, that an epithet has started to stick around-- specifically by their actions as a Silverer and the services they provided. From nightmare-slaying to fishing out vestigial memories (the irony of an amnesiac doing this is not lost on them) to guiding and safeguarding lost dreamers, their glimmering signature cowl and the way it flowed rather phantasmagorically in Parabola started to leave an impression. To many dreamers, seeing a hint of pastel twilight colors signaled safety. It signaled someone you could trust to get inside your head. :)

[leekyrainbow]

i was just thinking about new kid and i wanna talk abt them cause i don't think anyone has yet

spoilers for the stick of truth, the fractured but whole and snowday‼️‼️

they always found a way to become op in all three games (sot, fbw, sd). yeah the new kid is only in games and in games you become op but thats not the point. the other kids are *aware* that the new kid is op, thats why there was rules in place IN snowday to stop them from being op (but then dark matter got involed blah blah blah). The new kid STILL became op, a reason why they get used by other kids. Now the new kid can leave at anytime, nothing really stops them yet they havent left. We dont really know what happens during school or off days so everything there is up to theory.

new kid just kinda goes along with everything, they dont argue or disagree. The only time they did say something was at the end of tsot. the ONLY line we got from them. They choose to talk, they arent canoniclly mute but they are quiet 100% of the time. I dont think anyone other than stan, kyle cartman and kenny know that the new kid can speak since it was only shown they spoke once. either that or they're just quiet from trauma, if you seen their backstory from playing the games you would know what i mean.

(on the topic of the first paragraph) I think they know that they're getting used aswell, not counting the fact that they were literally told that. they have no other people to hang out with from what we've seen, they have taken selfies with countless people around town and have over a hundred friends on facebook. We arent counting that. Im talking about the people he hangs out with; stans gang(w/butters), craig and those guys(w/tweek) and maybe timmy occasionally (not sure abt timmy cause they've only really interact in tfbw).

New kid could probably make friends with kids in their school, I'd say its difficult since they dont talk. Im not an expert on making friends (really, im not) but i would say its difficult to make friends by just staring at someone because the person might get the wrong idea. Like, they're quiet to the point no one knows their name. They get referred to as 'new kid' instead of their name. Thats peak quiet behaviour.

honestly i would say that new kid did speak before they moved to south park cause of how their parents spoke to them at the start of tsot (they full on expected a response from them, but didnt get one) then eventually just accepted that their kid wasnt going to talk in tfbw. oh and it was definitely difficult to pick what parent to kill in the lab.

i think new kid is in desperate need of therapy, no explanation needed.

I love the new kid (platonic), they're one of my favourite characters in south park even though they only appear in tbe games. most people probably forget about them after they finish the games, id say that happens with the characters in the games aswell.

new kid is constantly forgotten about, as much as they hang out with the main 4, they're always forgotten after the games arr finished. the only character(excluding their parents) that ever showed any kind of care to new kid was Mysterion(techically kenny). This isnt word for word, Mysterion said along the lines of 'i have this strange urge to protect you'. Id say that when kenny isnt with stan, kyle, cartman or butters they're just chilling with new kid. that's kinda just a hc of mine though.

i dont have much else to say, if i do ill probably end up reposting another verison of this

[barnes-n-nobles]

Attention (SMUT)

Request: Smut. Bucky gets jealous of her for getting too close to his friend Steve. So he punishes her 🍆🤤

Sorry for the delay! Here it is and I hope you enjoy! Let me know what y’all think!

You and Bucky had been invited to Tony Starks birthday party tonight. In most cases you would have an outfit ready, but Bucky wanted to dress you today. You thought it was the cutest idea ever and you let him choose for you. He came out of your closet with a beautiful black dress , that had a slit on the side. He got you this as a gift during the first month that you guys started dating. You were saving it for a special occasion so you were a little shocked that he would bring it out for today’s birthday party. Your eyebrows slightly bunched together in confusion as Bucky laid it on your bed.

“Why that dress for today babe? It’s just Tony’s birthday, not the met gala” you chucked. Buckys metal hand traced the side of the dress and smiled at the thought of seeing your body in this sexy dress. “I just want to show off my beautiful girl. Plus, my tux is all black as well. You know how I love matching with you” he smiled as he went to place a soft kiss on your lips.

You nodded in agreement , taking the dress off the bed and walking into the bathroom to change. “I just hope this dress doesn’t get ruined like my last one…” you sighed smiling at the memory that started to form in your mind. “What do you mean, Doll?” Bucky asked curiously.

“One day, Steve and Thor got so drunk at Natashas party that they started having “cake wars” and I made the huge mistake of trying to take the cake away from them and Steve threw a handful of cake at me, while he was trying to get Thor. I was so mad because the dress I got for that day was super nice but I had to get rid of it…it was way too stained” you stated as you slid yourself into your dress.

Bucky rolled his eyes at the sound of Steves name leaving your lips. Him and Steve had some unspoken tension between them that always puzzled you. Little did you know, Steve wanted you for himself but Bucky moved way too fast and was able to cuff you up before Steve even thought about it. Bucky and him were inseparable but once they both realized they were after the same girl, they both got distant. Bucky loved his friend but he always got everything. The fame, love, praise, recognition. He wasn’t going to let him get you though, because you belonged to him. Only him.

“He better not start his shit or I’m going to fuck him up” he spat. “Bucky, you’re not an angel when you get drunk either you get pretty angry AND / OR get into fights with everyone. “ Bucky knew that he had to tame his demons when he was around you just because he didn’t want to scare you off, but it’s been getting harder and harder to control it as men had gotten a bit too brave around you. Bucky wasn’t the type of shy off when something made him mad.

~~~~Later that night~~~~

You and Bucky walked into Tonys home and it never failed to amaze you how beautiful his house was. You hope to one day share a home with Bucky. One where you could one day raise a family of pets and eventually even kids. He noticed you were busy thinking about something so he nudged you to bring you back from your daydreams. “What’s wrong Doll? You seem distracted.” asking with a little scrunch of his eyebrows. “Oh it’s nothing just thinking about this huge-“ You we’re cut off by a familiar voice. “Y/n, Bucky, so glad you guys could make it. You’re only like 1 Hr late but who’s keeping track.” You all chuckled and said happy birthday to Tony. “Come join us, the food just got served”. As you walked into his lavish dining area you said hi to everyone and sat down on the 2 remaining seats. Steve was on your right and Bucky on your left. He soon started to talk to Sam who’s was next to him. “Hey y/n…I haven’t seen you in a while. How’s it going?” Steve asked you giving you a quick hug. You thought that Bucky would have turned around or at least notice but he was too busy joking with Sam.

“Hey Steve it has been a while. Just going through life, you know.” You smiled warmly.

“I feel you. It’s so good to see you. Your little boyfriend likes to keep you all to himself huh?” He asked softly so that only you could hear him. You just smiled and shook your head side to side, not wanting to answer. Steve was always a flirt you thought, but in reality he liked to push your buttons to see your pretty little face flush. After dinner you all moved to Tonys living room, everyone consumed in their own conversations. Bucky was next to you the whole night , making sure you were having a good time as well. “I’m going to go upstairs real quick, Tony is needing a hand with one of his “toys”. I’ll be right back Doll” he said placing a kiss on your cheek. You nodded and decided to pick up your phone to check up on any notifications you had.

Steve gulped down his drink from across the room as he saw Bucky leave your side finally. He started to approach you as soon as he was out of sight. “All alone?” He asked looking down at your small frame. Your eyes snapped up to see Steve standing in front of you. “ For now, Bucky is out doing something “ you said looking in the direction that he walked “May I sit?” He asked with a smirk. You nodded and scooted over. You and Steve started having a nice conversation and got all caught up with eachothers lives. He brought you some drinks to loosen you up and they seemed to be working perfectly as you started to feel a bit more chill and relaxed. Steve laid his arm over the top of the couch and scooted closer to you, making your face turn hot but the closeness. Steve leans over close to your ear and whispered “You look absolutely stunning. Tell Bucky to bring you around me a little more, hun. I’m sure he’s the sharing type.” You knew he was getting a little too comfortable due to the drinks he’s been having but you tried not to make a big deal. “Steve, please.” you warned wanting him to know there was line he was approaching and that he hould not cross. “Please what y/n…. I never see you and I know for a fact it’s because of Bucky. I’m also your friend and I want to be around you and in your life. Don’t you want that?” You turned your face around to get a bit of separation. But then he used his thumb and index finger to turn your face towards him. “Well?”. You didn’t know what to say so you stayed silent just looking down. Steve was irritated and he let go. Standing up looking down at you. “When you make your own decisions, you know where to find me” he said turning around but then suddenly he bumped into a strong chest. Your eyes shot up and you were frozen.

There he was, his chest falling up and down in absolute anger. Looking straight into Steve’s eyes. “Get out of my face Buck.” Steve said in a low tone. Bucky didn’t say a word, his nose flaring and his chest rose and fell slowly with anger. His metal arm rapidly grabbed his throat. “DONT ever touch her again. I’ll fucking kill you” and with that he threw him across the room by his neck, hitting some tables and chairs as he fell to the ground. Everyone snapped their attention over to you guys a few gasps and screams erupting. You quickly stood up and got in front of Bucky, placing your hand on his bicep as if it would calm him down. “Please Bucky, stop...” you said looking over at Steve who was surrounded by people as they tried to help him up. Tony and Sam went over to you guys to make sure that Bucky wouldn’t escalate this any further. “Bucky, you need to control yourself. This isn’t the time nor place. “ Sam said turning to look at Steve who was now up and getting held back and talked to by Thor and Vision. “Jesus Christ Barnes, you could have at least given me some time to pull out my phone to record that.” Tony said making Bucky snap out of his trance and you could see a small smile starting to form. Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. “But yes..like Sam said. Not the time and definitely not the place. Pepper is going to kill me. “ as he looked at the broken table. “Sorry Tony, we’re just going to head out. I promise we’ll pay for that” you stated pulling Bucky away.

As you guys were heading to the entrance of the house, Bucky quickly pulled you into a near by room and locked the door behind him. You almost got whiplash at how fast he got you in there. “what the fuck were you doing with Steve, why did you let him get that close to you.” His big broad frame towered over you. “I didnt...well.. I dont know he was just sitting there and he got so close, i felt so trapped I didnt know what to do. “ you explained not knowing what to say to not make him more mad. “you know i dont fucking like him, why would you even entertain him? Do I need to brainwash you to never speak to anyone else but me... Hmm?’‘ he said pinning you to a nearby wall and pressing his body up against you. You didnt know if the drinks finally got to you or what, but you were feeling all tingly inside. Absolutely loving Buckys dominance. “or do you just want some attention. Because ill give you all the attention in the world Doll...but you'll only get it from me...no one else.” he whispered into your face.His lips brushing lightly over yours. You let out a little moan, his words going straight into your pussy. “I just need yours. You know that” you purred leaning in for a kiss. Bucky pulled away looking at your beautiful eyes, filling up with want and lust. “ Im going to show you that you only belong to me, and Ill make you crave only me and my attention. now turn over” he said giving you a quick kiss. 

You obediently turned and he started to slide your panties down. Buckys hands started to roam your body, his metal arm stopping at your clit. “I need you to be quiet for me Doll. Can you do that?” he said as his hard cock was grinding on your ass. “Yes, Sargent Barnes” you moaned as his fingers started to play with your clit. “Fuck...sucha good girl”. When he felt that you were wet enough he grabbed your hair and shoved you down onto a nearby dresser, earning a gasp from you. He pulled himself out and pulled up your dress, giving you a nice hard slap on your ass making you whine. “You had your fun with that imbecile “ he said as he aligned his throbbing cock at your entrance. “now its time for me to punish you like a whore for talking to him. “ and with that he rammed inside of you, letting out an animalistic growl at your tightness. Your moans ripped through your throat as he started to pump himself inside of you, with out much gentleness. His metal hand quickly went to your mouth, muffling your beautiful sounds. “Shh babygirl..cant let anybody else hear”. He thrusted into you hard and fast, making you see stars and your mewls restrained by his cold hand. Your wetness soon started to drip down your leg. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, feeling nothing but pure pleasure and bliss. Buckys arm went down to your neck and he pulled you up, making you arch your back. He leaned down looking at your fucked out face while he stuffed you full of his cock over and over again. He started to have a hot sloppy make out session with you, moaning into your mouth and you doing the same. Tongues interwoven into each other.

Bucky grunted your name, standing upright one more time. He grabbed your hips and started to fuck into you harder, his head snapping back as he was so close. “fuck im going to cum inside you Doll…Tell me who you belong to y/n..” he growled. “Y-you Bucky...only you Sergeant Barnes.” you moaned. Thats all it took for him to finally cum. His thrusts got sloppy as he spilled inside you. His cock twitching inside with each pause he took. He smiled as he pulled out, watching his cum spill down your leg. He pulled you up and gave you a passionate kiss. “dont worry Doll. We have much more to do at home. This was just a warm up, I’m going to give you orgasms after orgasms and you’re going to take it and enjoy it”

[no-droids]

Beginner’s Luck

Part Twelve of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.6K

Warnings: 👀👀👀 SMUT.  Oral sex (male receiving), cockwarming, sexual acts in public, the use of blasters and other canon-typical weaponry

A/N: Twas the night before Mando season 2, and all through the house—NO IM JUST KIDDING SDKSFKSVS anyways I am so sorry for not being here for basically all of last month but I could not miss this incredibly momentous occasion for anything. Merry season 2 my lovely baby yoditos

***

“Well,” a modulated voice gruffs expectantly from behind you, clearly tired of waiting.  “Turn around, let me see.”

“No.  I look ridiculous,” you sulk from the corner of the hull, refusing to do as he says.  You thought this was stupid from the very beginning and openly told him so, but you’re also a complete pushover for him with just enough backbone to be frustrated when you inevitably give in.  “And don’t you ‘sweet girl’ me, it’s not gonna work this time.”

“Sweet girl,” Din’s deep voice lulls through the helmet, raspy and soft.

Fucking fine, if he’s gonna twist your arm about it.  You spin around with a deep frown and a chrome visor stares back at you as you waddle forwards, and you don’t even need to look at the kid cradled in his forearm to know he’s smiling toothily as you clunk and rattle.  Once you’re standing directly in front of them both, you blow the stray hair out of your eyes and plant your hands on your hips, just waiting for the inevitable response.

Only, you don’t get practically any response at all from him.  He stays perfectly still and says absolutely nothing, and though the baby’s mouth falls open with happiness and he reaches for you, he doesn’t make a sound either.

“I told you,” you grumble after a few moments of pained silence.  “I look ridiculous.”

Still, nothing.  You purse your lips, shifting from side to side uncomfortably, and eventually your suspicion grows and festers until it finally bursts forth.  Oh for the love of Maker—

“I know you’re laughing under there,” you accuse with a growl.  He doesn’t move a single muscle but you don’t buy it, not for a single fucking second.

Then suddenly the helmet glances away from you and stares purposefully at the wall of the hull as the kid starts giggling, and you knew it.  You fucking knew he was laughing.

“You look great,” comes tightly through the modulator after a moment, and you pull your lip up into a snarl, vindicated in your findings but not happy about it.

“Is that how this is supposed to protect me?”  You wave your arms, hearing them squeak and clank like you’re a droid that hasn’t been maintenanced in centuries.  The rough metal jerks up and smacks your chin with the shoulder movement and you grimace.  “Make the bad guys laugh themselves to death?”

“It's bad,” Din finally turns back to you and admits with zero shame, and your cheeks burn at how stupid you must look right now.  “Way too big.”

“Too big?”  You blink at him.  “That’s your criticism?”

When he presented it to you, your first impression was some sort of brown paint—but no.  It’s fucking… rust.  It’s damaged and scraped up and it looks like it’s been through the ringer and back, and not in a way that gives it character.  There’s almost a literal hole in the fucking chestpiece and it’s dented so much that it actually creates more than enough space for your breasts, what the fuck happened—?

“You’re telling me you went from this—”  You ask pointedly, knocking your knuckles against the ill-fitting piece of metal and feeling it wobble against your chest, “—to that—” you tap the pristine, gleaming armor strapped to his body that easily costs more than probably quadruple your entire life, “—without any go-betweens?  It’s missing one of the shoulders, Din.”

He ignores you, flipping the chestpiece over your head with his free hand and letting the metallic clatter of it meeting the floor behind you ring out through the hull.  “I’d hoped at least something would fit,” comes his filtered sigh.  “This planet isn’t nice.”

That sobers you up a bit, and you feel your heart thump painfully.  “Are we on Corellia?”  You ask without thinking.

“No,” he tells you immediately, quelling your panic while pulling off your one singular pauldron.  “Tatooine.”

You’ve never heard of it, but from the grave undertone of his voice, you know the drill.  Different setting, same kind of people.  Smugglers, rogues, criminals—the type he’s used to being around and knows exactly what to expect out of them.  You always feel safe when he’s with you, but when he leaves?

“Oh,” you say, because you don’t really have anything else.  It’s quiet for a little bit, but then he continues on before you can come up with something to fill the sudden uncertainty on your end.

“I know someone here,” Din murmurs, bending his knees and sinking down to start undoing and pulling the shoddy thigh braces off your legs.  “Someone… nice.  It’ll be safe as long as nobody sees me leaving or coming back, and the kid would be happy to see her.”

Your eyebrows pull inwards, something… unfamiliar settling inside you.  Din doesn’t have friends, he’s made it clear that he doesn’t really like anyone that he knows well enough to introduce you to.  Even when he’s lowered himself in front of you and is technically undressing you, you feel a spark of… no, not jealousy, that’s crazy.  But for real, who is he talking about?

“Why can’t me and the baby just lay low somewhere remote like normal?”  You ask instead, but he shakes his head.

“No such thing,” he grunts, pulling off the other thigh brace.  “Tuskans or Jawas will find you even in the middle of the Dune Sea.”

“I like Jawas,” you blurt, having had many positive experiences trading with the little creatures on Arvala-7, but his helmet immediately tilts up to pin you in place and you shut up, feeling the tangible unamusement radiating from the thin blade of the visor even when the kid starts giggling again.  “I mean I… don’t like Jawas?”

Din sighs and rises back up to his full height, finally handing the baby over to you now that you’re not weighed down by that ridiculous getup anymore.  “You can either stay with her while I get the quarry or run the risk of pirates finding you drifting above the atmosphere,” he reasons bluntly, not mincing words.  “But it’s not a good idea to be stuck on the surface without protection, someone will find you.”

You bite your lip, hugging the kid closer to your chest for a second.  “Okay, that’s fine,” you murmur quietly after a moment.  “We can stay with your… friend.”  

You clear your throat and move to let him pass by to get to the cockpit, except Din doesn’t take a single step.  You blink up at him and after what feels like an eternity of no response, the helmet slowly tilts sideways at you and… oops.

Was that not subtle?  You didn’t know what to call her, genuinely, that’s why you hesitated.  You didn’t want to use the word acquaintance, it felt too detached for the fact that he said the kid would be happy to see her again.  That’s what’s called a friend, right?  

Maker, why are you being so weird about this?

Thankfully, you end up getting away with it.  After a few painful seconds of looking at every single thing in the hull besides him and humming a song you make up on the spot, Din slowly walks past and disappears up into the cockpit.  You take a deep breath and gently rub the baby’s ears between your fingers as the Crest powers up with a ferocious rumble beneath your feet.

***

It’s bright.  Fuck, it’s so bright here.  You hold the kid to your chest with one hand and shield your eyes with the other as the ramp slowly descends, dust immediately kicking up around it.  Din’s palm is resting against your lower back and his thumb gently brushes back and forth, but your heart decides to drop the very moment his hand does, and as soon as the ramp clanks against the landing platform, he’s striding down into the blazing hot desert sun without you.

Something in your chest squeezes and whispers to you that he probably doesn’t want to touch you when he’s about to see an old friend again, so you wait a few seconds of space before descending down the ramp behind him, not really knowing how you feel right now.  But you’ve barely taken a single step to follow when a woman’s voice screeches out from across a vast distance.  “Oh no, no no no—don’t you even think about it!”

Din slows to a halt at the end of the ramp and gives whoever it is a small nod, nothing beyond it, and if you weren’t purposefully looking at him for cues right now, you’d probably miss the greeting entirely.  You stand on your tippy-toes from behind his cape as a fiery little middle-aged lady in a mechanic’s jumpsuit marches up to him with an attitude that more than makes up for the height difference.

“You’re not allowed here anymore,” she pokes his chestplate brazenly with one hand and props the other on her hip, clearly not excited to see him.  “Not after the ruckus you caused last time, no sir, not on my watch.”

“That won’t happen again,” he gruffs shortly, not providing a single thing beyond it, and you blink.  What… what happened last time?

“It sure won’t!”  The strange woman agrees shrilly, crossing her arms and widening her eyes until she looks a bit like she’s been out in the suns too long.  “I’m still recovering, Mando!”

“I compensated you,” he reminds her, a quiet edge of frustration beginning to creep into his voice.

She suddenly narrows her expression at him, going from manic desert lady to sharp and discerning skeptic within a split second.  “How much do you think my life is worth?”

Din takes forever to respond, seeming to either be choosing his words very carefully or grinding his teeth under the beskar in frustration.  Probably both.  “I brought my ki—”

“You bring trouble!”  She bursts out, stomping her foot on the dusty landing platform and holding her ground.  “I don’t care how cute your little one is, go park your ship on some other poor soul’s hangar bay!”

He doesn’t say anything back, staying completely silent while you stand there awkwardly and wait for his response, and it’s almost like you… forgot.  How quiet Din can be, how unnervingly little he can choose to offer to conversations until he deems the information absolutely necessary to provide.  He allows you to forget that reserved nature of his.  He talks to you.  He never used to at the beginning, but somewhere along the way it just became increasingly common to hear his voice, both with a high-pass filter and blissfully without.  Now though, there’s just too long of a weirdly tense pause in the reunion for you to handle without doing something about it.

So you step out from behind him with the child in your arms, giving her an apologetic smile with as much friendliness as you can possibly put into an expression.

“Hello,” you greet her gently, musically, lifting the baby’s hand to give her a companionable three-fingered wave from the both of you while he coos.  “I promise I’m not trouble, but he did bring me along this time.”

Din and the woman simultaneously turn to look at you; her like you’re just as strange and jarring of a sight to see on this planet as the tiny unnamed boy in your arms and him like your voice by itself is enough to loosen his shoulders.  Though neither one of them ultimately respond to you, you can tell by the way his fists unclench that you’ve at least helped him relax, even if the frizzy-haired lazy otherwise ignores your introduction entirely.

“Now just what in Maker’s name are you doing with a poor little stowaway like that?”  She faces him and pokes his armor again.  “You runnin’ a charity out of that battered piece of junk you call a ship?”

“Three hundred credits to let them stay with you for a week,” he turns back to tell her, cutting directly to the chase.  Alright, so you don’t really understand their relationship at all at this point.  He said she was nice?  And yet he’s already bribing her that handsomely?

“Five hundred,” she immediately shoots back, and your heart sinks.  Fuck, there’s no way.  There’s no way he would spend that much, you’re going to have to find somewhere else to stay.

But… he doesn’t respond.  Which you now remember with a jolt of surprise, means confirmation.  Not wasting words agreeing, he’d say something back to her if he had an issue.  Maker, five hundred credits.  You’re starting to wonder if he’s really able to make any money at all doing this, or if the job is just… fitting for him, so he continues to do it.  He’s spending more and more credits on you every single time you turn around, and while you don’t feel great about it, you know Din well enough to know he’s stable and independent enough to make the decisions he wants to make.

So you just stand there and hold the baby to your chest, unsure of your place, while Din eventually turns around to face you.

Sometimes, if you’re being honest, you almost find yourself wanting to… do soft things with him that you know you shouldn’t while other people are around.  Granted, he’s never told you not to, but the last thing you want to do is undermine his reputation by unintentionally revealing his gentler side.  You want to give him a hug and maybe hand him the baby to say goodbye, but you don’t know if that’s how he wants to present himself to company right now.  Unfortunately, that ends up translating into you just looking at him and awkwardly waiting to see what he does.  Your feelings won’t be hurt if he just takes off without another word now that you know that that’s his intent—you promise, they weren’t hurt the first fifty or so times he’s done it.  You understand him, it’s alright, he doesn’t need to—

But then he leans in and lowers his voice until only you can hear it.

“I’ll be back soon,” he tells you, and you feel warmth creep into your chest.

You understand him.  Which is why you feel like you could almost burst with how much he didn’t have to say that but chose to do so anyway.  You already have a solid time frame—a week—which is more information than you usually get, and it’s such a small thing.  It’s insane; if you made a list, you’d have 1) talking to you, 2) knowing his first name, and 3) seeing a glimpse of his forehead as your top reasons why he might care just as much about you as you care for him.  That’s insane.

He takes a second to reach a glove out and rub the baby’s ear as he makes his adorable little baby noises up at him, before the helmet tilts back up just slightly to look at you.  

“Be safe,” he waits for you to whisper back.

And you think now is finally the time to go, right?  Except he waits just a few precious seconds more, just holding there, silently.  Maker, you don’t want to miss him, why is he doing this to you?  You’re trying to play it cool, see-you-later’s have been commonplace between you for nearing a full year now, so why does it feel like now is the first time he truly doesn’t want to go?

You hold the kid with one hand and start to reach for him the split second he turns to walk away, and you quickly drop it as the dry wind snaps through his cape.  He leaves and doesn’t look back.

Still, you watch him disappear, until eventually you’re reminded of your host’s presence with the tap of a wrench against your shoulder.

“Hope you know your way around a hyperdrive,” the woman says with a smirk.  Maker, Din didn’t even give you her name, you’re going to have to ask.  “Gotta repair at least two of ‘em by sundown.”

You catch the hefty tool with your free hand and turn to her.  “Pre-Imperial or post?  Never done a restoration, but I’m a quick learner.”

She blinks at you like that was probably the last thing she expected you to say, but you give her the same friendly smile from before and look towards the entrance of the hangar for the ships needing maintenance.

***

So Peli is… a character.

She’s quick and entertaining and whip-smart, but you worry that if she had a whip, she might actually use it.  She’s nice—she is, but she damn near works you to the bone once you prove yourself capable.  You don’t think she expected the extent of your practical knowledge of mechanics, she went into it assuming you were going to be useless and did a hard U-turn that very first night.  You both worked together to fix two malfunctioning hyperdrives by sundown, just like she told you she needed, but then she looked vaguely surprised and nobody showed to pick up until two days later.

The second day is more hectic, and the third day is worse.  You cradle the kid on your hip while you work one-handed, smudged grease all over your forehead and sweat sticking your hair to your neck.  Using Peli’s sonic shower never leaves you feeling clean no matter how many times a day you find yourself wanting to wash the dust and grime from your body, the same way yours used to back on Arvala-7, and you immediately get why her dark hair seems so frizzy and dry whenever you step out of the stall and catch sight of the similar rat’s nest on your head in the small mirror.  Hypersonic waves dry it out more than the blazing hot suns on this planet—you look the same exact way you’ve looked for decades and while you don’t mind hard work, you can’t stand the complete lack of water on this forsaken rock.

Din was right, though.  She is nice, but in a way that she never wants anybody else to find out about.  She cooks you food every night but expects you to clean the whole kitchen after, she lets you have free reign over the caf maker as long as you remember to make enough for her, and she allows you and the kid to pass out on the beat-up sofa in one of the secluded back rooms for the time being.  On more than one occasion, when she assigns you chores that require two hands and a steady focus to complete, you overhear her babytalk behind the control panel as she bounces the kid in one arm and plays with his ears.  It fills your chest with a quiet, subtle kind of warmth, and you understand why Din trusts her with him.

At least you stay busy—which, understatement.  She works you so hard that eventually she starts handing you tasks that don’t really seem… pressing.  Replacing the spherical joints on her three pit droids, hand-scrubbing the grime off the pots and pans she uses to cook the same two meals everyday, polishing the dusty windows overlooking the landing platform even though they’re caked over with dirt not even an hour later.  You realize soon enough that she doesn’t have nearly the workload here as she claims, periodically catching her playing cards with the droids while you’re busting your ass doing chores once all the real work has clearly been accomplished, but you’re not upset.  You like being busy, it’s how you’ve lived most of your life.  However, at some point, you actually end up running out of things to do.  After that, it’s like she has to actively look for tasks she still needs completed.

One morning you find her in the parked Crest, ripping open the guidance systems paneling and talking to herself.  You sip your caf and watch silently from the landing bay, hair pulled up in a messy bun and the baby on your hip as the suns rise on your shoulders and she mutters, whole sheets of metal being tossed out from the insides of the Razor Crest.

You've also learned she responds incredibly well to the prospect of credits, so you don’t spend too much time wondering what her goal is—find something in the ship for you to fix and then charge Mando extra for the materials whenever he comes back.

Hilarious though, as if there’s anything in your ship that actually needs fixing.

You spin around with a sigh and walk back into the hangar, knowing today will probably be the first slow day in awhile.

***

A few hours later, you’re invited to play a game of Sabacc for the first time in your life.

There are so many rules—so many suits and names to keep track of, so many values to memorize, only to be forced to choose one card after every round to keep just in case the rest of them happen to shuffle at random, which occurs at least once or twice every game.  There’s too much luck involved to figure out any sort of strategy; you feel like sometimes you’re hopelessly lost and end up winning anyways or you wager nearly your entire stack of bolts on a perfect hand and then you lose the entire thing regardless.

It’s an unpredictable nightmare.  But it’s something to do, and you’ve learned that playing just as stupidly as you bet allows you to easily stay in the game.  The baby sits in your lap and plays with one of your rusty metal gambling pieces while your leg bounces, and Peli grumbles under her breath once it appears you get ahead of her in winnings.

“Beginner’s luck,” she tells her favorite pit droid quietly, who focuses its singular eye at you in a way that somehow feels unfriendly and nods on a brand new swivel, courtesy of yours truly.

You don’t argue, because there’s no point.  The whole fucking thing is luck, but there’s no point.  You know enough about this game to know that you might give something away if you speak, so you keep your mouth shut and let her fill the void.  You know how to stay silent, you’ve learned from the best.  Wordlessly drawing a card from the deck and tucking it in between two others of the same value, you decide to trade one of your other cards at complete random and hope it all just works out.

“Ship looks like it’s brand spankin’ new on the inside,” Peli mutters into her mug out of nowhere, and you pause for a moment, before silently nodding at the offhanded comment and trying not to show how pleased you are by it.  “Was falling apart the last time I saw it.”

You keep bouncing the kid on your knee and fan out the cards in front of you, hoping his big black eyes aren’t reflective enough to reveal your hand.  “I have a lot of free time.”

“I can tell,” she acknowledges, crossing her legs and leaning back into her chair.  Peli sets the mug down and sighs.  “You’re a good mechanic.  I’d offer you a job here, but something tells me you wouldn’t even consider it.”

Now, you do smile.  But it’s a hidden one.  A fond one.  One you find impossible to fight when you’re reminded of him.  You miss him and ache for him and all those collectively angsty things, yes—but mostly you’re just… able to find a bone-deep solace in even thinking about him.  Your heart tightens, but it’s far less constricting than it is a comfort, a firm embrace.  It surrounds you in its safety; Din’s mere existence is your protection, wrapping around you the same way the beskar protects him.  Nothing can touch you.  You’re safe, from all the things you used to fear and all the new things you’ve learned to fear.

No, you’d never consider it.  This planet is too much like Arvala-7, just slightly more populated and dangerous.  You love the baby.  You love him.  You’d never consider it.

“Don’t you get bored?”  She asks you with a raised eyebrow, and your smile admittedly drops the slightest bit.  “Just waiting around for him to come back?”

You don’t have to think about your answer.  Of course you do.  If you’re being honest, it does feel a bit like your life is split between worlds—one with him, and one without.  Whenever he’s not here, you’re thinking about how much you want him to come back, and whenever he is here, you’re thinking about how much you don’t want him to go.  You’ve never experienced anything like that before.  There were a few local farmers scattered far across the arid landscape of the place you used to call home, and three of your neighbors all had kids around your age.  So you experimented when you were younger, since you never had much else to do in your spare time, but you never loved any of them.  You’d always go back home and continue to do chores, continue to look up at the sky and wonder what you were missing.

“Yes,” you admit quietly.

But what you don’t tell her is that in exchange, you get to see the galaxy.  You get to have experiences you’ve only dreamed about, take care of the cutest little baby you’ve ever seen and become part of a family.  You don’t know of anything you could want more.  Adventure, companionship, pleasure, and fulfillment.  Sure, you get restless, and sure, you don’t necessarily feel good about the fact that Din seems to be your driving force even when he’s away, but you know independence.  You know what it means to live for yourself.  You’ve done it long enough that you’ll never forget how to, you’ve experienced it more than enough to know you’re happy about throwing yourself off the cliff and falling into something different.  As much as it’s new and terrifying, it’s better.  Now you have other people to live for, too.  

You marvel at the change—not just from a year ago, but from a handful of months ago.  He used to terrify you.  You used to keep your mouth purposefully shut around him because you were scared of overstaying your welcome and being dropped off somewhere equally as remote as the place you grew up.  Never could you have imagined that the fiercest guardian the galaxy has ever seen would decide you’re also worth protecting.

No, you figure, you just need to… find something in addition.  Something else to also commit to, give yourself something to do.  You can practice the new self-defense maneuvers he taught you, that’s a good idea.  But maybe you can also…

You eventually decide to prompt Peli in a change in conversation.  “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“What do you want now?”  She takes another sip of her caf as if you’ve been bothering her about this all day long, and… well, it’s times like these that you wish you had a helmet, too, if only so you could roll your eyes.

“I’ve got a few pieces of rusted metal in the Crest,” you eventually tell her, careful with your phrasing and not sure how much you want to reveal.  “They’re in bad shape, but I want to keep them.  Could I use some of your tools here to hammer out some of the dents, dissolve whatever crud is on the surface?  I saw you have a forge back there that’s barely been used, just need the metal hot enough to be pliable without sacrificing its integrity.”

She furrows her eyebrows at you.  “But I still need your help with…”

You wait, but she’s got nothing and you both know it.  Still, you keep a pointed silence and wait for it, wondering if this’ll actually work.  This is what Din does, right?  Just refuse to say anything and make the other person crumble under the crushing quiet?  Miraculously, it proves to be successful—you watch her flounder for a response, her will wavering the longer you sit there and stare expectantly at her.

“Fine,” Peli finally acquiesces, and you grin.  “But only if you win this round.  What d’you got?”

You set down your cards to reveal your hand.  A perfect twenty-three if you’ve been counting right, unbeatable unless she or any of the droids managed to get the same, and you know it didn’t happen as soon as she takes a few seconds for mental math and then scoffs.

“Beginner’s luck,” you tell her kindly, pushing all your winnings back over to her side of the table with one hand and scooping the kid up with the other, before turning around and heading towards the Crest in search of Din’s old armor.

***

It’s late afternoon on day five and you’re on your back on a creeper seat, sweat dripping down your neck as you reach up to fiddle with the engine of a T-16, a Skyhopper similar to one you built yourself on Arvala-7.  They're not space-faring vehicles, they’re only capable of reaching the upper troposphere, but owning one allowed you to develop solid flight skills without ever truly being able to leave.  Honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever despised a ship more.

You know you’ve got engine grease all over and you feel like you’re boiling in your own sweat, but you’re almost done.  After this, you’ll be able to go back to working on your side project.

As soon as you’d been granted Peli’s direct permission to do so, you mixed the chemicals necessary to eat away at everything besides the basic structure underneath, and then spent all day yesterday manipulating the metal to better fit someone your size and shape.  You slaved over the wickedly hot forge and developed a whole new muscle in your arm from hammering and reheating, hammering and reheating.  You had to repair the way the chestpiece was tapered into a concave point by folding the thin metal back in on itself multiple times, strengthening it without flattening it back into its original shape too much, and then you ended up melting down some of the extra material from the needlessly large shoulder and thigh pieces to fill in the gaps.

Granted, you still have a ways to go on replacing the crushed magnetics box that was falling off the chestpiece and filing down the rough scrapes and sharp edges, but you’re now left with almost a full set of armor that’s a uniform dull silver in color and molds way better to your general figure than before.  You’re not a blacksmith or armorer by any stretch of the imagination, but you’re good with your hands and did what you could in the time allotted.  It looks better than you ever thought it would, and without access to Peli’s enormous collection of tools and machinery, you know it would’ve been better off in the trash.

Still, you have to finish this engine first before you can rip apart the control unit wiring on the armor to see how the whole set fits together and what else needs to be repaired.  You’ve been working on it for a few hours before you hear the door to the hangar open.  Yet, when you don’t immediately hear Peli’s voice calling out to you, or anyone else’s voice for that matter, your heart thuds in your chest with sudden excitement.

“You’re back early,” you tell the engine suspended over your head, knowing he must’ve already thrown the quarry into the Crest parked outside before coming to see you.  Right on time, footsteps approach and then a boot carefully catches the flat platform between your legs, slowly rolling your seat out from under the ship until the rest of the sunlit hangar is revealed to you.

You know you must look a hot mess right now.  Your hair is a disaster and there’s not a clean spot to be found on your body—sweat glistens and pools along every curve you have and you’re probably drenching the spare jumpsuit Peli let you borrow, but Maker, there he is.  Every time you see him is like the first time all over again, except this time the Mandalorian is looming like a giant over you, the helmet tilted down and silently taking you in.

Instead of settling you, his daunting presence gets you hotter than dual suns in the sky ever could.  Fuck, he hasn’t said a word to greet you, and yet you’re already wondering if you can entice him to shove you back under here and join you.

You slowly push yourself upright and he steps back just enough to allow it, but not an inch more than that.  You have to crane your neck up to keep looking at him, and he stands close enough over you that you wouldn’t have to reach far at all if you wanted to touch him.

And it’s crazy to think that… you absolutely could touch him, if you wanted.  He radiates danger, he hunts and tracks for his continued survival, he’s probably got fresh blood staining the dark fabric of his cape and he’s so fucking intimidating—and if you wanted to, you could touch him.  

Maybe you can partially blame your sore muscles as to why you immediately drop your head back down, but mostly you just want to stare at a part of his body that happens to align perfectly at eye level.  And fuck, nothing stops you from looking.  He doesn’t help you up, but he also doesn’t move so you can haul yourself to your feet, either.  He just holds perfectly still with his body standing tall over yours, content to stay exactly like this while your hand slowly reaches out to wrap around one of his ankles.

He’s so warm, his muscles flex strong under your palm as you let it drift upwards, biting your lip as you flick your gaze back up to the chrome visor and then down again to the apex of his thighs.  Your other hand comes up to scale the beskar strapped to his leg and you roll yourself forward slightly, wondering if he’d let you…

The black fabric stretching over his crotch just barely touches your fingertips before his hand is suddenly whipping out and grabbing hold of your wrist.

You gasp and jerk your head up to look at him, somehow equally hoping that you’re both in trouble and not in it at the same time.  Din’s abruptly chest raises with a large, labored inhale, as if he wasn’t breathing at all that entire time, as if he just now remembered the setting, the fact that he’s not alone on the Crest with you right now.  Peli and the kid have to be somewhere in the hangar, you know that, but…

“We’re leaving tonight,” he breathes out through the modulator, and you have absolutely no fucking problem with that at all.  “But… shit, but…”

“But…?”  You prompt, wanting nothing more than to let your hands reach back up to his pants again, but you settle for slowly dragging one palm up his forearm as his grip on your wrist tightens.

“Fuck, I wanted to take you somewhere first,” he groans like your feather-soft touch is actually hurting him, his hands suddenly dropping yours and pushing you away to clench into fists at his sides.  “Maker—why do you always f-fucking do this to me…”

You raise an eyebrow at him this time, the curiosity starting to mix with the heat simmering down low, the kind that you'd feel even on a frozen wasteland of a planet as long as you were with him.  All at once, you decide to channel him and his trademarked silence, enthralled by the incredibly slim chance that it will work equally as well on its creator.

“…Distract me,” he finally growls out an answer to the question you never asked him, sounding frustrated with you for reasons you still haven’t figured out, and your mouth is drier than the desert outside.  Oh stars, you feel… fucking powerful.  “From everything,” he goes on, talking honestly and openly, more words given to you in thirty seconds than he’s probably offered to anyone all week long.  “Fuck, I feel like I can barely do fucking anything anymore, I’m losing my fucking mind.”

Your heart slams in your chest, wondering if he possibly feels the exact same way about you as you feel about him.  Missing you whenever he’s gone, dreading the moment he needs to leave again whenever he’s with you.  The thought alone is enough to set off fireworks through your veins, pumping hope and excitement from your fingers to your toes.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out, biting your lip in a way that doesn’t look or feel sorry at all.

“No, you’re not,” Din grunts, before reaching out and hauling you to your feet, and even if there wasn’t a flat seat under you with wheels, it’d still be awkward and uncoordinated as fuck.  “Shit.  I… I need to clean up.  Grab your things, go tell…”

Din trails off after a second, suddenly sounding at a complete loss.  You catch your footing and stare at him as he falters.  “Uh.  Go tell…”  He gestures with a sense of finality to the control room, as if he’s actually successfully communicating with you by doing so.  “Her.  That we’re leaving tonight.”

“What?”  You ask him, thoroughly fucking confused.  “What are you saying right now?”

“The woman,” he clarifies, clearing his throat.  “The mechanic, with the… droids.  Tell her I’ll pay her before we leave, but we’re g—”

“Peli?”  You blurt, completely flabbergasted at this point.  “Did you forget her name, Mando?”

“I…” he shakes his head slightly at you, like you should already know him better than that.  “Never asked.”

“But you—?”  You blink at him.  “But you said she was your friend?”

“You said she was my friend,” he immediately points out, with—oh Maker, just biting accuracy.  It wasn’t necessarily a jab or anything, but you still feel dizzy with how fucking spot on he is about it.  Yikes, you absolutely did say that.  You forgot.

“Oh…” you mumble, at a stunning loss for a response.  “Ha.  Oh.  Yeah, huh.”

There’s too many beats of awkward silence after that, probably because he’s just so blown away by your way with words that he’s just attempting to analyze the wisdom.  Stars, you’re making a complete fool of yourself in front of him, aren’t you?

“Were you jealous?”  He suddenly asks, and you jerk upright, your heart kicking up to a gallop in your chest at the question.

“I’ll go tell Peli we’re leaving soon,” you quickly agree and go to scurry away in abrupt panic, but he catches your wrist and hauls you back before you can get far.  You run into him with a gasp and immediately start to repeat your explanation for why you very suddenly need to depart, but the tips of Din’s fingers catch your chin and force you to look up at him.

“Hey,” he cuts your rambling short with a hushed murmur and the pad of his thumb brushes down your jaw.  “Tell me the truth.”

You don’t have an answer that won’t be incriminating, and you don’t think you can get the delivery right on a lie, not to him and especially not when he’s got you so cornered.  So you just keep completely silent and look up at him like a scolded child would.  Innocent, wide-eyed and scared shitless about the unknown consequences of your actions.

His helmet slowly tilts as he studies you, watching you look up at him for help.  His fingers gradually spread out across your jaw, flattening under the curve of your throat but so gentle, so careful that you’re almost worried he actually is mad.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately offer before he can say anything, your eyebrows pulling up in the middle.  “I’m so sorry, it’s just—I just…”

His thumb carefully stretches up to brush your bottom lip, and you…  Mind blank, no thoughts.  Stars, you’ve got fucking nothing.

“I’ve got nothing,” you admit, giving up before you can even try.  “There’s no reason.  I was jealous.  It’s stupid and I wasn’t going to say anything because I know it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t feel possessive over you but I do, and it’s stupid.  I don’t want anyone else to know you the way I know you, and I’m really sorry if that makes you feel weird, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t have—”

Your chin lifts slightly with the gentlest movement of his hand and the subtle pressure is enough to cut your mindless oversharing off.  Din’s voice lowers until it’s throaty and quiet.

“See that wall?”  He asks, keeping the visor pinned to you while carefully turning his hand to the right, and your whole head easily follows the movement as he guides it.  You have to blink your eyes into focus a few times, but then you immediately see what he’s talking about.  It’s a partition separating the welding room from the rest of the hangar.  He waits until you nod in the cradle of his palm, before leaning in and murmuring to you.  “If we were alone, I’d take you around behind it and show you exactly how that makes me feel.”

You pull back from him with a startled gasp just as a voice calls out from the entrance of the hangar.  “Well, look who finally decided to come back!”

Din slowly drops his arms and stares at you for just long enough to make you seriously worry that he’s going to say fuck it all and do it anyways, before finally turning around and greeting Peli with another silent nod.

She plants one hand on her hip once she’s standing right in front of him, cradling the kid on with her other arm, and you have to take a second to collect yourself now that you’re not at the direct center of his attention anymore.  “Sure did take you long enough, didn’t it?”

“I’m two days early,” he grunts in his immediate defense, but it’s like she doesn’t hear him.

“You’re leaving soon I hope,” she drawls while handing the baby over to him, who makes an adorable little happy squeak at seeing his dad again.  “You owe me five hundred credits.”

“It was five hundred for the full week,” he reminds her, and… he has a point.  Though it was never part of the agreement, you wonder if she’ll be willing to accept less compensation for having the burden of your company be lifted early.

“Five days count as a full week, far as I’m concerned,” she shoots back, and your heart suddenly sinks when Din’s shoulders tighten and he doesn’t respond.

“Peli…” you sigh from behind him before you even realize you’ve spoken aloud.

Your host quickly sidesteps your bodyguard to eye you dubiously, and at the same time, you also jolt and wonder what your goal is here exactly.  You’re ultimately just attempting to diffuse any tension sparking between them, you figure, knowing you’re probably the best mediator here.  She looks at you up and down for a long time, hard and judging, before the baby babbles something wordlessly and she sighs.

“I suppose we can just call it even,” she finally huffs, turning back to him.  “You’re lucky your girlfriend earned her keep, Mando.”

And then your jaw drops.  Holy shit, is she serious?  You assumed Peli valued credits above almost anything else, you never expected her to just… turn down the entire offer like that, so willingly.  Clearly Din didn’t either, because you both just stand there for a moment in front of her in a baffled silence.

Also… girlfriend?

Is that what you are to him?  Admittedly you haven’t talked to him about what to call your relationship, but then again, you’re a practical person and you never really saw a specific need to do so.  You care about him, he cares about you—what else is important?  You don’t need a title to recognize your value to him, and for some odd reason, calling yourself his “girlfriend” just feels like you’re a teenager again.  If you were actually looking for a different word to use instead, you wouldn’t be able to find it, but you know that one just feels… not enough.  Not old enough, not encompassing enough, not complex enough.  It’s an elementary school version of what this is.  And to refer to someone like Din as your boyfriend?  Maker, just saying it aloud would probably make his eye twitch.

“Uh.”  He stands there awkwardly, and you’re so blown away by both the sentiment and specific verbiage she used that you’re practically useless at this point.  Shit, what’s beyond girlfriend, you wonder?  Lover?  No, not good enough.  Partner?  No.  No, not wife, definitely fucking not—  “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Peli waves him away and spins around to leave, but not before throwing one final thing over her shoulder.  “That ain’t an open invitation to come back, by the way.”

All of a sudden, you just can’t stop yourself from breaking out into a wide grin, tucking your chin in hopes that she won’t see it with her back turned and decide to pounce on the display of weakness.  The three of you watch her stride out of the room and immediately bark an order at one of her droids to get back to work, who starts looking around in desperate search of something to do, and Din’s palm finds its usual place on your lower back as she disappears.

“What a nice lady,” you offer to him, and he gives you a wordless grumble in response.

***

So it’s a couple hours later and you think the kid might actually have the right idea this time.

You find yourself wishing you had a little hover pod of your own that followed Din around, one you could close the lid on and hide in while blaster fire whistles through the air around you like the baby is currently doing.  You’re trying to listen to instructions—you’re trying, but there’s a lot going on here.  Voices chatting, guns firing, targets being pinged, a lively little band playing in the cantina next door.  

When Din first led you through Mos Eisley and inside this specific adobe hut, if you’re being completely honest, you had hoped for food.  A comparatively large restaurant, perhaps?  Peli didn’t starve you by any stretch of the imagination, but her dinners were the exact same every single night, and you’ve learned to thrive on new things.  While you didn’t necessarily think he was going to take you on a… a date, or anything, you certainly didn’t expect him to take you to a shooting range.

Well.  Now that you think about it, this might actually be a date.

Luckily you’re hidden away in the furthest firing partition from the door, but even without the near-constant barrage of gunfire to your left, the distractions are still plentiful.  The kid actually reached down and pressed the button to close his crib himself as soon as the bright beams of plasma started zooming past and reflecting in his large black eyes, and oh how you wish that were you.  You don’t necessarily feel like you’re in danger or anything, but you’ve also never seen so many guns in one place before and you’re worried you’re accidentally going to hurt someone else.

So far Din has taught you the fundamentals for any firearm—always keep the safety on until you’re ready to fire, never point at anything unless you’re a hundred percent willing to shoot it, yada yada yada—and also the safety fundamentals for blasters specifically.  So, making sure there’s no leaks in the gas cylinder when you first load it, never letting a strong magnet get near the power pack, checking the surface of your target for deflection curves if you want to prevent a ricochet, or maybe in his case, inspire one.  He’s taught you your stance, he’s taught you how to read your sights, now all that’s left is just to… shoot.

Your arms raise up in front of you and the metal feels too heavy and awkward in your hands, and you have to hold the handle in your left and creep your right index finger all the up the side of the barrel until you feel the indented safety switch.  It clicks and you reset your grip to slowly ease your finger onto the trigger, staring down the sight, right at the bullseye.  Din is standing directly behind you next to the kid’s tightly closed hovering pod, arms crossed and just waiting for you to pull it.

Come on beginner’s luck, come on beginner’s luck—

You fire, and… well.  You don’t think you’ve ever seen a shot miss its target that spectacularly in your entire life.  You’re almost surprised the beam of plasma didn’t somehow ricochet back into the booth you’re both standing in, that’s how spectacularly you missed.

“Try again.”

There’s no amusement in his voice, nothing mocking about it.  Pure monotone under the helmet, as if he was just naturally expecting that to happen.  

No, you think in frustration.  You want to surprise him again, impress him with how quickly you can pick things up, turn him on like last time.  You just fucking know that would get to him—seeing you easily hit the target dead center with his own blaster, you know that would get to him.

You adjust your aim and fire a few more times.  Miss, miss, wild miss, miss.  Fuck, so many distractions, plasma flying in the corner of your vision and an increasingly heavy gaze from behind you.  Another miss, a miss, yeesh that’s a miss—

Alright, so you're just embarrassing yourself at this point.

“I think it’s broken,” you shrug in defeat, taking a second to find the safety switch and toggle it before going to set the gun down on the raised adobe platform separating the line of booths from the targets—but then Din suddenly snatches the blaster from your grip and extends his arm over your shoulder, firing off six rounds in rapid succession so wickedly fast that you jump backwards into his rock solid chest in surprise.  He doesn’t give an inch under the collision and even wraps his forearm tight around your tummy as he hits the bullseye with such deadly accurate precision that even the char marks and the line of smoke left wafting from the target’s center are razor-thin.

“Works just fine,” he grunts, setting the weapon back down again before urging you forward a bit.  “Go ahead, give it another shot.”

But you’re on a remarkable delay, just trying to process his sheer speed, how fluid and seamless the entire fucking motion was.  Fucking Maker, blink and you’d miss the whole thing.  He waited to grab the gun from you until you turned the safety on, but then… then how did he fire it so insanely fucking fast?  That’s like five different things he had to do with one single hand within a split second…?

“I turned the safety on,” you blink down at the blaster, clearly just trying to process.

“Yeah,” he agrees blankly, as if he’s unsure as to what specifically you’re so stuck on right now.

“So how did you toggle so fas—?”

He picks it from the shelf gracefully and lightning quick—as if he just can’t help but go that speed around his weapon—and then he twists it on its side, flexing his wrist back until the barrel is pointed upwards and you can clearly see his index finger extend all the way up to the safety switch, flipping it up and down while his middle finger rests over the trigger guard.

“How in the f…?”  You mutter, lifting your hand up next to his and positioning your fingers in the exact same L shape, only the tip of your index finger barely stretches an inch shy of the switch.  “Psh,” you huff, dropping your arm back down again.  “Design flaw.”

“For you,” he acknowledges, using the trigger guard to flip it back to its proper position in his hand like fucking spinning it like that is just the easiest and most natural way to handle the deadly weapon.  “This gun was made for me, it’s a feature.  Yours would be smaller and lighter, have the safety towards the back of the chamber instead of along the barrel.”

The words and the casual display of ability cause a rush of stirring excitement to burst forth inside you, suddenly giddy at the very thought.

“Wait,” you draw the word out with a grin, leaning back into him and gently nudging him with your elbow to make sure he knows you’re only mostly joking.  “You gonna buy me a blaster, Mando?  I did earn my keep this week, didn’t I?”

“Have to find one that fits a big enough sight first,” he mutters while setting the gun down on the table, and you scoff at him as his hands come to rest on your hips.  They squeeze and try to guide you forwards once again.  “Prove that you can at least hit the target with mine and we’ll see.”

“You only get to make fun of me if you give me a real answer,” you rule, planting your feet and refusing to budge.

“Okay, but we both know I’ll make fun of you anyways,” he sighs, and you have to dig your heels in and push back into him to keep yourself rooted to the spot.

“You’re not being a very encouraging teacher,” you accuse without trying to hide your grin.  “In fact I feel very discouraged right now and I think that y—”

But then Din suddenly tips his helmet closer to your ear and lowers his voice, cutting you off.  “Did you know that gifting someone a weapon is considered a proposal of marriage on Mandalore?”

Your smile quickly drops and you gasp, wholly startled at the implication and immediately trying to spin around to look at him.  “Holy shit, are you serious?”

“No,” comes his modulated grunt, tightening his hold and keeping you firmly facing forwards.  “Of course not.  Pick up the gun.”

Okay.

Okay, so that one gets you.

You immediately start giggling, painfully aware that this isn’t the time or place for it, but that one actually fucking got you.  Din easily guides and parks your gullible ass in front of the window carved out of dried mud before picking up the blaster himself and forcing you to hold it with your loose hands, grumbling under his breath.

Shit, okay, focus.  Focus, you can do this.  You clear the laughter from your throat and suddenly get deadly serious, staring your target down like it’s personally gone out of its way to ruin your entire life.  The blaster feels cold in your palms but not when Din’s hands wrap warm and tight around the back of yours, letting you hold the gun how it’s most comfortable for you before gently settling his fingers down over yours.  His chestpiece presses tight against your shoulder blades when he guides the gun up and out, and his arms are long enough to extend yours fully even though he’s behind you and still has some bend to his elbows.  He uses his feet to kick your ankles apart until they’re shoulder-width and then you both carefully find the trigger together.

He’s quiet and slow about it and the whole thing is one giant fucking turn-on.  Maker, chill out.  Chill out, he’s teaching you how to shoot.  This is important stuff, there are people around, chill out…

Din takes a moment to aim the barrel and his hold is so fucking steady, so unwavering and strong.  You wonder if it’d be too obvious if you pushed your hips back a little, you might be able to feel his—

“Fire,” Din murmurs next to your ear, and you pull the trigger without a second thought.

The bright red plasma beam launches from the end of the blaster and hits the target dead center.  You gasp, pulling the trigger again, and unsurprisingly, it’s another perfect shot.

He suddenly lets go of your arms and takes a small step back, but the second he removes his body from yours, the rounds start bouncing wildly off the edges of the target.  Your eyebrows furrow and you try to emulate how you think the angle felt before, but you can’t find it anymore and you’re just failing spectacularly.

When you decide to pause for a second, Din steps up close behind you and wraps his arms around you once more.  You can feel the exact moment he’s locked in his aim, and you fire wordlessly as soon as you know it’s going to hit.  Bullseye, right on the nose.

This time, he lifts just his hands away from yours, staying perfectly still otherwise and you swear you don’t move a single fucking muscle in your entire body before pulling the trigger, but it still hits the far corner of the target.

“It’s broken,” you shrug once again, and Din drops his helmet to your shoulder with a sigh.  “This gun was made for you, which means there’s obviously some mod you have installed that reads biometrics and ruins the shot no matter how good it—”

“Not even close, but that’s not a bad idea,” he tells you, watching you click the safety on and set the uncooperative blaster down.  “I can’t figure out what you’re doing wrong.   Are you just distracted?”

Uh, fuck yeah you are.  So much is going on and more than that, he’s here and he’s just… fuck, you know what he meant when he said he felt like he was losing his mind.  He’s your biggest distraction, all the time.  He’s still standing so close to you and the baby is still isolated and tucked away in his hovering sphere, and you take a moment to think about it.  

Yes, it’s… it’s possible that you may learn better by example than anything else.

“Can I watch you do it?”  You ask him, and Din shrugs before reaching around you and quickly grabbing the blaster from its mud shelf.  “Wait—” you tell him while he raises and extends his arm over your shoulder, and then you wiggle sideways as much as possible in the small booth to squeeze around behind him.  He doesn’t say anything as you swap places with him and scoot up behind him, but you can tell by his body language that he’s confused.  You wonder if he liked that position and watching you shoot his gun, even if you’re complete shit at it.

He stands in front of you for a second and you give him an encouraging, “Okay,” to let him know you’re ready, but then the helmet turns back to look at the target like he’s still unsure as to what you want specifically.  You keep your mouth shut and let him figure it out.  You meant what you said—you want to watch him shoot.  You want to watch him where he’s infamous, watch him do what he’s best at and let completely loose in front of you.

As if it finally clicks for him, Din turns to face the target and suddenly throws the blaster into his left hand while reaching down and pushing a button hidden under the hollow platform with his right.  You have to lean around his broad shoulders to watch the target slide backwards on its track easily triple the distance before squeaking and slamming to a stop.  Din stretches his non-dominant hand out and subtly tilts his helmet before firing six times, easily hitting the bullseye with just as much accuracy as before, and you frown when you notice the only shots that have actually hit the target so far have all been dead center.

He sets the gun down and stands there for a second, staring across the range like it’s nothing at all to him and it’s… remarkable.  Not that he’s a wicked shot, you’ve known that the second you laid eyes on his armor all those months ago.  No, it’s just… you would think this is where he’d thrive, if anywhere.  The entire place is full of smugglers, raiders, scavengers, mercenaries—occupations that define themselves by their grit.  They’re talking as much as they’re shooting, conversing in languages you’ve never heard but suspect Din easily understands.  But instead of fitting in, he’s just… there.  He doesn’t look comfortable, but he also doesn’t look uncomfortable, either.  He doesn’t look like he’s having any fun at all.

None of this is considered a hobby to him, you suddenly realize.  It’s not fun because he’s too good at it.  This is life.  This is going back to school for the most basic fundamentals of a job he’s excelled at for decades—it’s not interesting, he’s gaining absolutely nothing from practicing.

You try to think of the last time you’ve seen him truly in his element.  You think back on all the different settings—he looked out of place on Canto Bight, got into fights on Corellia, hated Coruscant, seemed stressed on Nevarro, and even on Naboo, even in the middle of paradise, he looked unsure if he actually deserved to be there with you.  Now here on Tatooine, where he has real people that he trusts, where he’s surrounded by like-minded individuals shooting his favorite things in the world, it’s like he’s still not able to fully let go.

Is it just you, you wonder?  Does he stand out more just because you’re the one looking?

No, you think.  No.  You have seen him relax.  You’ve seen him laugh before, you’ve seen him be himself with you.  

But… only with you.  A hardened bounty hunter that much prefers the company of a young woman and an infant to literally anyone else in the galaxy.

Fuck.  Why does that turn you on so fucking much?  It’s the display of prowess, the sheer skill he’s developed, how fucking deadly he is—and how you’ve felt him use that trigger finger to trace slow circles around your clit.  The Mandalorian standing with his blaster raised has probably been the last thing too many people have ever seen in their lifetimes, and yet watching from this angle just makes you feel protected, guarded, and… so fucking horny for him.

“Do it again,” you eventually murmur, touching both your palms to his back this time just to feel it.  You want to feel him shoot, you want to feel his muscles move with it.  You want to touch how mechanically he’s able to aim, you want to know if he’s loose or tense when he fires, you just want to… feel it.

Din grabs the gun and as he extends his arms out, you slide your hands up his back to rest under his shoulders.  He’s so broad, he feels so warm and strong, and his trigger releases are so steady that nothing above his wrists move.

Shit, before he’s even finished setting the blaster back down again, you’re already scooting up behind him as close as possible and carefully slithering your arms around his waist, hugging your body tight to his back.  Din stays completely still while your mouth presses against the fabric of his cape and your hands begin to slowly slide down his stomach.

He doesn’t say a damn thing, which makes it even hotter for some reason.  There’s no warning he gives you, no low growl of your name or sweet girl being dragged through the modulator.  He stays completely silent and holds there while blasters continue to fire from stalls to your left, and it gives you the thrill of your lifetime.  Big strong man holding perfectly still for you to touch in the middle of a crowded room.

Your hand slips under his waistband and sink down low until you can trail your fingertips along his cock, hidden from sight beneath the edge of the clay shelf.  The small sound you make at feeling it already firm and at attention for you gets lost in the noise of the shooting range, but you wrap your palm around it and give it a good, slow pull upwards, feeling Din’s back expand with a breath from the sensation.

“Do it again,” you whisper into his shoulder blade, slowly playing with his cock in his pants with one hand while keeping the other wrapped tight around his abdomen.

Din immediately snatches the blaster off the platform and fires it the very moment he takes aim, and you can feel his cock pulse in your palm as he lets off the shots.  Dead center, as always, but he clunks the metal back down with a bit more force this time and then lingers his fingertips at the sloped edge of it for a second, as if he’s considering whether or not he should hold onto it.  

You’re already wet between your legs, but it gets worse the longer he allows you to keep doing this.  His skin is furnace-hot and he throbs for you, and you trail your thumb up to check—oh, Maker, he’s leaking for you, too.  You drag the pad of your thumb over the tip and gently rub the wetness along the curve of his head, before easing back down to give the shaft another slow pull.

A quiet puff of air comes through the vocal filter, but that’s all you audibly get out of him.  Still, it’s more than enough to fill you with a wicked heat and a desperate desire for more.  So you bite your lip and glance around just to double-check that nobody else has wandered over behind you and the kid is still tucked away in his crib, probably passed out in the secluded darkness at this point.  And then you barely take a split-second to consider it before your knees are bending and you’re slowly sinking down the length of his body.

Din is a fucking statue.  He doesn’t do anything to allow your wiggling underneath the raised platform anymore than he widens his stance to prevent it.  Once you’re on your knees in front of him in the dim isolation of your hiding spot though, he takes a single step forward and pins his waist to the hardened clay above your head, and a thrill skitters through you at being completely walled in on all four sides.

You reach up to hook your fingertips in his hem of his trousers and begin pulling them down, so tight and achy between your legs that you want to shove your hand down between them already.  You don’t though, not yet, because you need two hands to be extra careful in getting his cock out.  You don’t even want the fabric of his pants to touch it, you want your mouth to be the only sensation he knows here.

At the very last second, you decide to pull the waistband down far enough to let his balls rest outside the confining clothing, getting increasingly hotter at the thought that this isn’t going to be sneaky and dirty, even if you’re in public.  Din’s wide stance and the floor-length cape hide you perfectly from any prying eyes behind his back, so it’s going to be soft and it’s going to be slow and he’s going to be comfortable while you go down on him.

Your mouth is already watering, so you bend down just slightly and lift your chin to gently drag your tongue along the smooth skin of his balls before anything else.  Honestly—you don’t think he’s expecting you to go there first, because his whole body suddenly jerks at the velvet soft sensation between his legs and you let out a low hum in response.  He can’t reach you down here unless he tries to, so you scoot your knees up a little bit and just decide to go for it.  This way he won’t be able to get it confused, he won’t pull you out from under here halfway through when you suck on his balls before anything else.  This is what you want from him, what’s right here in your mouth.

You switch to the other one and Din twitches with a filtered breath, the skin already tightening up and responding gorgeously under your tongue.  His hand hovers somewhere near the raised platform above your head, fingers curling in his leather gloves and caught right between stopping you and letting you continue.  While he allows it, you ease your way up and make it just tantalizing enough to make him ache without providing any real stimulation, slowly trailing your tongue up the length of his cock and pressing plush lips to the flared head.

Din exhales a shakily while you take your time, tasting the precum as his body produces it, just kissing and licking and purposefully refusing to touch him with anything besides your mouth.  Without being able to see the rest of him from this angle, you're left to your own devices—you’re so gentle and soft about the pleasure that you start to separate the man from the throbbing erection you’re currently playing with.  You begin to enjoy yourself without thinking too much about the struggle he must be withstanding right now, you moan softly against his heated skin even though you know you’re being a tease at the worst possible moment, but no matter how you decide to take your time with it, Din continues to allow it.  He endures.  Silent, perfectly still, until you eventually decide to wrap your lips around the head of his cock and flutter your tongue up underneath it.

But then he jumps and your eyes open when a deep, unkind voice from the stall to your left calls out, “Hey, Mando!  Gonna fuckin’ shoot or just stand there, huh?”

You can hear his immediate frustration in the blaster scraping against the shelf over your head, and you moan softly around his cock the second you feel him tense and start firing.  The smooth skin pulses on your tongue and you slide your fingers around the backs of his knees, opening your throat and slowly taking him deeper.  

And, for a man that has repeatedly fired six perfect shots every single time he picks up his gun, he falters after just three this time.

The heat of your mouth must be too overwhelming.  Too fucking good, too detrimental to his focus and composure to even perform the most basic tasks he typically excels at.  Like a seasoned mathematician that suddenly struggles to count to ten, a renowned author that can’t recite their ABC’s—Mando can’t even fire a weapon right now and it’s all because of you.  

He has to keep trying though, he has to make an actual effort now that you both know someone nearby is paying at least some sort of attention to his performance.  The sound of more plasma arcing through the air over your head slowly disappears into the background in a way that it never could while you were the one firing—you’re completely hidden and safe down here, you can moan low in your throat while keeping your hands around his knees and begin to bob your head without another thought or worry whatsoever.  Handling it is all on him.  He just needs to stay quiet, be still, and shoot his gun.  It should be the simplest thing in the galaxy for him, right?

Wrong.  So wrong.  You hear the way the bolts are pinging off the sides of the target now, you listen to him grunt and let off a few more shots that also sound like they miss.  Your soft palate lifts and you’re practically drenching yourself at how wide he stretches your throat while you take him down as far as you can, and there’s a moment where you’re holding there and you think about doing something about the dull ache throbbing between your legs.  But once you pull off him for air and automatically touch your drooling tongue to your palm, you decide this is what you want more.

Your slick hand wraps around his cock and starts to slowly jerk him off while your mouth moves down to attach to his balls once more, your touch gliding strong and wet along his entire length.  Din almost doubles over into the platform, his hips stuttering up for the first time at the hard stimulation you’re finally giving him.  His skin swells and tightens in your mouth—you can feel the tension locking his thighs down, you can hear the shots above you start to decrease in frequency, and you know he’s already close.

So you move back up to suck on the head of his cock again and slowly swirl your tongue around it, continuing to use your hand to pull steady and firm on the rest of his shaft, and you just close your eyes and wait for him to give you what you want.  His firing soon stops altogether and you squeeze your finger between your thighs and press hard against your clit, just needing to relieve some of the ache.  You keep doing that, you keep drawing circles with your tongue while slowly jerking the rest of him off into your mouth, and at some point, it all just becomes too much for him.

“Shit,” Din gasps, along with the sudden sound of metal skittering against the clay above you, and your eyes pop open in surprise.  “Ah, sh—shhhhh—”

Maker, did he just drop his fucking gun?

You start to pull back, but then suddenly a trembling hand shoots down and clutches tight under your throat, hooking hard behind your jaw to make sure you stay right there.

His cock starts throbbing and he shudders, slamming his other palm on the shelf and cumming hard in your mouth.  You’re already swallowing before he even gives you anything but Maker, you’re fucking desperate for it that your hand moves to curl your fingers against the exposed skin at his hips as if that’ll somehow help you get it sooner.  The first taste of him comes as soon as you dig in and drag your nails down his flesh, and Din is helpless to do anything else besides clutch your jaw tight and gasp raggedly while emptying himself down your throat.

He shakes and shudders and you don’t spill a single drop, clutching his hips and pulling him close to keep him in your mouth, and as he slowly comes down from that plateau, you lick every inch of him clean.  His fingers gradually lose their rigidity around your jaw and eventually, his fingers drop down to press gently against your throat while his hips pull back.

He slips from your mouth and you wipe the wetness from your chin, staring up at his cock wistfully and almost wanting to keep going.  Is that fucked up, you wonder?  What would he think?

He hasn’t moved yet, why isn’t he moving?  Your job is clearly finished here, no matter what kind of way you may feel about that.  The coast must not be clear, you have to assume.  Perhaps someone is wandering around behind him, maybe he’s still being cautious about the nosy person next door—all you know is that you can tell he wants to move but he isn’t, which likely means he can’t.  You know his cock must be so unbelievably sensitive right now, but he’s not easing his body back far enough away from the shelf to tuck it into his pants.  He’s keeping it right in front of your face and expecting you to stay there until he deems it appropriate for you to get up.

The longer you wait for him to step back and let you out from under here, the more your need sparks and grows.  What would he think?  That you’re so desperate for his cock that you still want it in your mouth even when it’s soft and spent?  Maker, he’d be fucking right on the money.

At some point, you can’t stop yourself.  You lean back up to slowly take his soft cock back in your mouth, and Din nearly spasms while you slip your hand under your waistband and widen your knees.

You don’t do anything spectacular to it—you’re not that cruel—but you do hold him on the heat of your tongue and keep him there, fluttering your eyes closed as your finger finally touches your clit.  Air puffs shakily through your nostrils and you think Din is actually shaking harder than you are, his body fighting oversensitivity while yours starts the race towards bliss.  He doesn’t stop you but it also feels like he’s purposefully trying not to, like everything in him is rebelling against the wet heat of your mouth but knowing you’re only doing this because you’re so painfully turned on.  You’re doing this because you need it, in spite of the electric shocks of wicked sensation it seems to be inspiring in him.

Your finger speeds up and you start gently sucking on the warm, giving flesh, and his hand trembles as it grabs at your hair.  Fuck, you don’t care if he thinks you’re desperate—you want him to recognize it, you want him to know exactly how much you love his cock—

That thought sends a dark thrill down your spine and pleasure burns bright and needy where you’re still rubbing your clit, dropping your hips and rolling them forwards against your hand.  And oh, your only lament is that you wish he was the one doing this.  You wish Din was building your pleasure instead of letting you use his body in search of your own, you wish it was his hand working between your legs and about to shove you over that ledge, but then again.  Something about this whole fucking scene is just so… undignified.  Debased.  And you’re getting off on it, quicker than you ever thought possible.

When you cum, you’re good and you don’t make a single sound when you cum.  You squeeze your eyes shut and your entire body jolts with every single shattering wave of ecstasy, and Din tugs a handful of your hair and slowly rocks his hips once, twice, fucking your mouth while you endure wildfire burning through your veins.  By the time you finish convulsing on the fucking floor of a Tatooinian gun range, you know you can go for another and probably get it equally as quick as that one, but Din is already pulling his cock out of your mouth and shoving it back into his pants.  You’re like jelly as your elbow is immediately caught in his arm and you’re hauled up from your hiding spot, dazed and disoriented.

The chrome visor stares you down and you want to shrink in on yourself, thinking he’s going to take your happy ass back to the Crest.  You should be in trouble, you know you should be in trouble.  Leaving the recesses of your dark cubby and coming face to face with your surroundings brings a brand new clarity to light—you totally should not have done any of that.  He was trying to teach you, for Maker’s sake.  He was taking the time to show you the valuable knowledge he’s gained regarding weaponry and self-defense.  Fuck, you even told him on Naboo that you wanted to shoot a gun, and he brought you here to do just that.

Except then he just spins you around and picks up the blaster from the adobe ledge in front of you, placing it firmly in your hands.

“Okay,” he pants quietly next to your ear, breathing hard and shallow through the helmet.  “Now you should be able to focus, right?”

Fuck…  Fuck, is he serious?  You can barely hold the damn thing, you’re shaking so hard.  How does this work again?  What does this do?

“Wh-What?”  You croak—fuck, your voice is gone.  “I… I can’t—”

“Try,” he encourages, helping your comparatively tiny hands flip off the safety but other than that, stepping back and leaving you to it.  Completely and hopelessly lost, you weakly twist around to watch him stand next to the kid’s closed metallic shield.  “Hit the target,” Din reiterates with a nod, trying to catch his breath.  “You can do it.”

You look back out with unfocused eyes to see it still all the way on the far end of its track, and there’s just absolutely no fucking way.  “I… can’t.”

“Hit the target and we can go home,” he tells you, and while you don’t exactly know what home is anymore, something tells you it’s somewhere in hyperspace.  A resting baby, a metal floor, a pitch black hull, and your cheek pressed against a warm chest.

It sounds… wonderful.

Inspiring a newfound kind of desire in you, you lift your arms as best you can and work so, so hard to keep them steady.  The target is in your sights and you do your absolute best—fuck, you really do, but you pull the trigger and the shot sadly bounces off the edge.

You drop your hands, already defeated and drained.  “I can’t.”

“Hit the target and I’ll buy you a blaster,” he ups the ante, and you instantly lift your dead arms again.  Fuck, come on, come on, you can do this.

You shoot.  Nope.  So you shoot again.  And then you shoot again, and again, minutely adjusting your wrists purely based on where the bright red plasma is landing and ignoring the scope entirely.

“A nice one,” he continues over the pew pew pew of you just continuing to fucking miss, fucking miserably, over and over again.  “Expensive.  Hand-crafted, one of a kind…”

Miss, miss, miss, and—no.  Just, no.  There’s only so much glaring failure you can take before you snap.  You finally stop shooting and growl in frustration, going to slam the metal down on its resting place.  “Mando, I ca—”

“Hit the target and I’ll marry you,” he says quietly, and you freeze just before impact.

… What?  N… No…

Miraculously, you somehow manage to calmly switch the safety on and set the blaster down before turning back to see the helmet staring at you, unmoving.

You… you know it must just be a joke, right?  Just a stupid extension to the one he made earlier, it must be.  You blink dumbly at him and flick your gaze between the visor and two large black eyes staring at you from the crib, wondering if you glitched or if you’re just hallucinating.

“Uh…” you hear yourself say, even though you’ve got absolutely nothing, but Din doesn’t offer anything else to fill in the gaps of your startled misunderstanding.  If you didn’t have such a wild fucking reaction to the words, you'd probably wonder if he actually said them or not—that’s how much he gives away.  Silent, so unbelievably silent when you’re begging him to give you at least something.  Is he messing with you again?  Is he just that confident that you’re going to fail?

It takes forever for you to turn back around and face the target, but you eventually do when he refuses to elaborate.  Your heart slams in your chest and you wonder what you’re doing even attempting this.

The moment you lift your trembling arms is the moment you know your heart is pounding too fast—your finger twitches with the wild rush of blood flow and you end up pulling the trigger way before you’re ready.  You fire before you’ve checked your sights, you fire before you’ve taken any sort of aim whatsoever, you fire spontaneously enough to surprise even yourself and it—

—it hits dead center.

Your stomach drops and a jolt of some rabid feeling punches through you, you have no idea what it is.  You whip around so fast that you get dizzy, seeing him standing there, completely still.

“That was just beginner’s luck,” you quickly reassure him, suddenly feeling faint.  Holy shit, holy shit, what the fuck just happened?  “Listen—hey, no, listen, I can’t get it again,” you explain shrilly to the utterly dead silence from him.  “Look, watch this, double or nothing.”

You spin back around, well aware that absolutely nothing about what you just said or what just happened made any fucking sense at all.  Beginner’s luck when you’ve been consistently awful at this, telling him repeatedly to listen when you’re very, very fucking aware he hasn’t said anything, double or nothing on a literal proposal as if double marriage is something that actually exists?

No.  Shut up.  Don’t even think that word, don’t think about fucking anything.  Fire, fire without thinking, just lift the gun and pull the trigger—

You do, and oh.  Oh, no.

“Uh?!”  Your voice comes out on a squeak, now in a complete fucking panic.  What the fuck?  No fucking way.  Perfect, perfect, the odds are fucking astronomical—another deadly accurate shot.  “Ah, um, okay, scratch everything I said—th-third time’s a charm?”

Wide-eyed and having absolutely no clue what you’re doing at this point, you fail to see Din slowly turn his helmet down and to the right as he stands behind you.  You go to lift your arms and pull the trigger, but then he suddenly reaches out lightning-quick and bumps your elbow upwards at the very last second.  

The abrupt push causes your shot to be angled off course spectacularly and you can’t do anything but look up and gasp in horror, worried it’s going to ricochet off the ceiling and land somewhere this building isn’t architecturally designed to absorb.  There’s just enough time to wildly wonder why the fuck he did that—

—but then, like pure magic before your eyes… the beam of plasma adjusts itself in midair.  

It fucking bends.  Across the length of your entire firing lane, it curves in a downward trajectory and hits the target with absolutely impossible physics.

Your jaw fucking drops and you whip your body around in dumb shock to see Din staring hard at the closed shield next to him.

… that’s not closed.

The baby tilts his head at you and coos happily, one ear tipping up while the other tips down, and you’re completely blown away.  Not only at the entirely unexpected demon-power display, but what specifically he was hoping to get out of it.  You’re still stuck, blinking down at the adorable little goof with abilities you’ll never understand.

Only, a hand suddenly grabs yours and drags you back to yourself.

“We need to leave,” Din says quietly, switching the lid shut on the hovering crib and pushing it towards the booth’s exit while tugging you along behind him.  “I don’t know how many people saw that, we need to leave.”

Sure enough, voices in the next partition over start picking up, likely the only ones in here who had a good enough angle to watch the physically unthinkable shot somehow meet its target, and your adrenaline quickly begins pumping while you keep your head down and power-walk your ass to the door.  You don’t know the kind of consequences that could potentially arise from others witnessing the kid’s literal sorcery, but you know you’d rather not take the chance.  The voices start growing louder as you three make your quick escape, beginning to ask others around them if they just saw that, but you’re already out of the rectangular adobe structure and long gone by the time anybody steps out of their panels to hear the uproarious accusations of cheating beginning to fly.

***

Stay tuned for the next part!

[maria-akira]

good girls don't get used: michael langdon x fem! reader

—♡—

READ PART 2 HERE

summary: michael langdon, your ex, falls into a bet wherein he has to (fake) date you. if he falls in love again, he loses and doesn't get the prize.

warnings: private school au, fuckboy!michael, slight mention of sexual topics + i didnt proofread this mwahaha

this fic is inspired by the song 'good girls (don't get used)' by beach bunny.

i don't know if other private schools have bells, because mine doesn't :(

italicized bold words are direct lyrics from the song. but in this chapter, there are none since this is like an intro :)

—♡—

"Dude, shut the fuck up."

"Are you kidding? She really said that?"

"You really think that's gonna happen?"

"Who's class do you have first?"

Voices of different students flooded the white and grey hallways of the school. Different friend groups and teachers can be seen roaming the halls, getting stuff from their respective lockers as they waited for the bell to ring.

"Y/N! Do you mind if I borrow your calculator? I forgot mine at home and Math is my next class." She said while panting.

"Sure, here it is. If you lose it, I'd probably drop kick your ass." Y/N let out a small laugh and grabbed the calculator from her locker, giving it to her friend.

"Gosh, Y/N. I'll never lose it! I'll give it back during recess. Thanks again!" She flashed Y/N a smile and waved bye, before returning to her locker.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror she had on her locker, fixing the tie that always seemed to be out of place whenever she checked. Her hair was neat, complete with a white headband that complimented the color of her school's uniform.

A few seconds later, the bell rang and everybody started rushing. Different couples were seen kissing before they parted ways for the mean time.

Cringe. Y/N thought. She shrugged it off and held her books tightly to her chest, walking to her next class.

Walking straight into the classroom, she noticed a group of guys dart their eyes to her direction as she entered. They gave her weird smirks. In return, she stared back at them while she made her way to her seat and never broke eye contact. Eventually, she noticed a familiar face among the group.

Michael, her ex.

How the fuck is he in my English class? She thought, along with a whole hundred thoughts roaming around her head. Michael stared back at her, giving her a wink.

Y/N's face gave a hint of disgust, "The fuck do you want, Langdon?" She stood up from her seat and walked over to Michael, pushing his other friends. She heard his friends coo and tease Michael for his act towards her.

Michael put up his hands in defense, "Chill, is it bad to wink at a pretty girl like you?" He said with a smug look, while he grazed his hand over her arm.

"Shut the fuck up, Langdon. Don't you ever touch me." Y/N slapped his hand away, his friends taken aback from her actions. As she walked back to her seat, the teacher entered as well.

Y/N put her face in her hands. By now, a million thoughts were in her head. It's been 2 years since Michael and her broke up, and since then, she made a promise to herself that she would never fall in love with men like him. She was so tired of all the tears and sleepless nights that Michael gave her.

She let out a sigh and lifted her head from her hands. The soft light from the windows filled her eyes after the darkness formed by her hands, causing her to rub her eyes to adjust from the light.

The rest of the hour went smoothly for Y/N, after English class was recess, her most favorite time of the day— aside from going home, of course.

She glanced at her watch, 10:28 AM.

2 more minutes, and English will be over. She thought.

She averted her gaze back on the white board full of scribbles about some writing lesson she clearly did not listen to. She looked over to her classmates and friends, Well they aren't listening either. She laughed at the thought.

As soon at the bell rang, everyone started packing up their notebooks, textbooks, and whatever they had on their table. Every student was seen rushing out of every classroom in hopes of being the first ones in line for the cafeteria.

On the way there, Y/N bumped into her friend group. "Hey Y/N! We heard about happened in English class. Michael is really in your class?" A friend of hers mentioned, "Yea, and apparently that son of a bitch winked at me, such a disgusting ass motherfucker. he should keep his fuck boy ass to himself." Y/N spat out, earning a chorus of 'oh's' from her friends.

When they arrived at the cafeteria, the line was painfully long, all of them groaned in frustration and they had no choice but to wait for the line to move. But once it did, it was faster than usual. After Y/N and her friends received their food, they left the cafeteria to eat at their usual place.

The school rooftop.

A few students know that staying in the school rooftop is permitted, which was why Y/N and her friends loved eating there.

When they arrived at the rooftop, they saw the usual people that they always encounter while staying there. The view was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. The small garden in the rooftop gave a beautiful and elegant touch.

Though there were a few chairs and tables, Y/N and her friends always preferred to eat on the floor. So, they laid the linen cloth on the ground and sat on it. Y/N was wearing the skirt uniform, thus she removed her tux and placed it on her legs to prevent her skirt from lifting.

They shared a few giggles while they ate their meals, laughing about some life experiences, or whatever they wanted to talk about.

Y/N loved this. She loved how she and her friends would have little moments like these, it was like an escape from reality.

The rest of the day went smoothly for Y/N. She didn't fall asleep in any of her classes, which in this case was a very big accomplishment for her.

As soon as she arrived home, her little brother, Aaron, rushed towards her. "Y/N!! I missed you!" He chimed, Y/N kneeled down onto his level and gave him the tightest hug. "I missed you too, Aaron!" Her mom came into the room and smiled. Y/N stood up and gave her mom a hug as well.

"How was school?" Her mom asked, Y/N placed her tux on the coat hanger by the door. "It was fine, Mom. Where's Dad?" Y/N walked over to the fridge and poured herself a glass of milk, "He'll be home soon, he still has a meeting right now." She took a sip of her milk, "Oh, okay. I'll be upstairs doing school work." The glass of milk that was once full, now empty.

She took her things upstairs and plopped herself on the bed. Out of nowhere she felt a vibrating noise from her bag, she rummaged through her bag to find her phone and once she did, a message was see on her lockscreen.

Unknown Sender has sent you a message.

She unlocked her phone and went to her messages.

Unknown Sender: hey ;)

Her eyebrows furrowed. What the fuck?

(Y/N): hi? whos this?

read 2:29 pm

Unknown Sender: oh shit you deleted my number? damn.

"Huh? I don't recall deleting anyone's number..." She went to her recently deleted contacts and it showed nothing.

(Y/N): im sorry, i haven't deleted anyone's number recently, maybe you have the wrong number?

read 2:32 pm

Unknown Sender: im pretty sure you know me, Y/N.

They know my name. And her heart started pounding.

(Y/N): and im pretty sure i dont, so just reveal yourself before i report this number

read 2:35pm

Unknown Sender: ayo chill 😬 its me michael.

"Michael fucking Langdon? You've got to be fucking me right now." She felt rage fill her, slamming her keyboard.

(Y/N): langdon what the fuck do you want? i made it very clear that i dont want you talking to me.

read 2:40 pm

Before Michael could reply, she changed his contact name to 'Motherfucker'

You have changed Unknown Sender's contact name as 'Motherfucker'

Motherfucker: damn you still mad at me after 2 years? gosh (Y/N). whats with the nickname?

(Y/N): of course im still mad, asshole. ill never forget what you fucking did.

read 2:43 pm

Motherfucker: i thought you forgave me 🥺

(Y/N): FORGIVE YOU???? god langdon you're so fucking stupid, i will never forgive you. you didnt even say sorry in the first place!

Pissed off, Y/N blocked his number. "That fucking asshole." She mumbled to herself.

—

"Hey! Y/N!" A familar voice called out from the crowd. Y/N removed one earbud and turned around to find the voice that called her.

Once she saw the shiny blonde locks from that stood out in the crowd, she immediately ran in the opposite direction in hopes of avoiding him.

It was Michael, again.

"Y/N wait!" Michael called out again, chasing her

For some reason, Michael was able to catch her. He pulled Y/N into an empty science laboratory and they were both panting.

"What the fuck do you want this time, Langdon?" Y/N was catching her breath, fanning herself with her hand.

"Okay. First off, sorry for the sudden message. I know I pissed you off and that wasn't my intention at a—"

"What was your intention then?" She cut him off.

Michael panicked.

"Uh, you know? I just wanna talk to you again. Clear the bad air between us.."

Y/N let out a laugh, "Clear the bad air?? Oh gooood Langdon, you are really so stupid! You know what? You just made it worse." She pushed him off and walked out of the room,

"Whatever it is your planning, Langdon, I'm telling to stop it. I don't wanna talk to you or even go near you."

Michael was dumbfounded. She changed so much. He thought to himself.

2 years ago, Y/N was the sweetest, most innocent girl he knew. Playing with her feelings was Michael's biggest regret, and he's starting to feel it again.

Michael was about to leave the room until he felt a buzzing from his pocket, He pulls out his phone to see who was calling him.

Duncan, one of his bestfriends.

Michael answered the call, "Hello?"

"What's the update on your little girl?"

"She still doesn't trust me."

"That's sad man."

"I know. She changed alot. "

"What do you mean by 'changed'?" Duncan emphasized,

"I can't point it out, Dunc."

"Whatever you do, don't chicken out. I promise this bet is worth it."

"Fine, I trust you."

Call Ended.

Michael ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and left the room before the bell rang.

—

It was the last subject of the day. Most students were falling asleep or on their phones.

Y/N was scribbling weird things on the back of her notebook, when suddenly the bell rang. She packed up her stuff and stood up from her seat. Before she could leave the room, she saw a familiar face again.

Michael stood by the doorway of her classroom, the strap of his bag over one shoulder while he looked for Y/N among the other students.

Y/N ignored Michael and walked past him, but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards him.

"Langdon! What the fuck do you want?!" She screamed, all of the students averting their attention to her.

Michael put a finger on his lips, shushing her. "Let's go somewhere private, yea?"

"But—"

Before she could object, Michael dragged her outside towards the parking lot.

"Okay this is actually something serious—"

"CUT THE SHIT LANGDON! IM TIRED OF YOU."

"Woah‐woah! Easy now. I actually need your help, with school..."

Michael rubbed her shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. For once, Y/N believed him. His eyes were speaking the truth.

"Okay, fine. Shoot."

"I can't believe I'm saying this.."

"Don't waste my time, Langdon."

"Fine! I'm failing."

Y/N's mouth hung open. Michael was one of the top students in their batch and this was obviously a huge surprise for her.

"Oh, really? What am I gonna do about that?" She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side.

"Can you please help me? Like, tutor me?" At this point, Michael was desperate.

"Um, no thanks. Just fuck some other girl's pussy for your grades." Y/N pushed him away, but Michael stopped her again.

"I'm serious, Y/N. I really need your help."

"Why me?"

Now that made Michael nervous.

"Because you happen to be the top of our batch right now?"

"Fine! Under one condition."

Michael was curious, "What?"

"If I do this tutor shit, we're doing it at my place. I can't tutor you in your messy ass room." Y/N said. She always remembered how messy Michael's room was when they were together. He would only clean when he was scolded by Y/N.

"That's fine by me."

"Okay then. 5pm, sharp."

She walked away, but Michael pulled her again.

"Let me go! What do you want now?" Y/N said, clearly annoyed.

"Unblock my number, silly." Michael chuckled,

"No."

"How are you supposed to know if I already arrived?"

"Theres a doorbell, dimwit. I'll be downstairs waiting for you."

"Bu—"

"Bye, Michael. I'll see you later." Y/N flashed him a small smile and continued to walk away.

Once he saw Y/N reach the bus stop, he started walking to his car, until someone tapped him on his shoulder.

"Hey Michael, whats the update? I saw you talking to her." It was Duncan. His brown hair was lightly gelled back and the first two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone.

"I'm still trying to win her back, I lied to her that I was failing so she could tutor me. That way, it'll be easier."

Duncan smirked, "That's my boy! When will this tutor thing start?"

"Later, 5pm."

"Hmm, that's good. Remember, if you fall in love again, bet's over."

"I won't."

—♡—

tags mwah: @kitwalker02 @sojournmichael @angelicmichael @deademobitch @iheartfrogs101 @tatestripedsweater @mrs-march-ahs

i hope you guys enjoyed this. i wrote this while doing schoolwork </3

[unlikelymilkshakedream]

We love you

A/n: hello! First off I want to say I am very sorry I have been inactive on here, I have been super busy with classes and work and I have had nearly no free time. I also am working on a lot of pieces currently that are taking longer than I would have liked, but I am working to get those finished very quickly. I hope you enjoy this, I just felt weird this morning so I wrote this

This morning turned out fine, or so I thought. I was excited for today because I wanted to go out with my boyfriend and his friends. We had all become very good friends, so much so to the point that we were all together now.

The day I thought would be perfect, turned into the day that nearly broke me. It had been a while since I had a day like this. No matter what I tried to do I felt as though the world was against me getting out of bed.

My boyfriends, of course, had no trouble doing so. They shouldn't, they don't live with my chronic problems, and I don't want them to experience this. I know I should get up, but just the thought alone is enough to bring me to tears, bawling into my pillow and praying they don't hear.

Twice, it had happen this morning, I couldn't hold back the tears nor the incredible feeling that I would never be able to fight this sadness. Like I said, it doesn't happen often, but the days it does, its nearly impossible to deal with.

It must have been getting pretty late in the day, because I knew eventually one of them would seek me out of the darkness from my bedroom. I was submerged in blankets when I heard the door creak open, I didnt dare breathe. I didnt want them to know that I had this illness that constricted my happiness.

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder, peeling back my comfortable blanket of darkness that I had built.

"Y/n? Are you awake?" It must've been my boyfriend, George. From the sound of his accent and the softness of his voice, I could tell without looking. There was no doubt in my mind that he could see the tears lines on my face and could tell I had been crying. I felt like I just didn't have the strength to face him right now.

"Just leave me alone," I said in such a broken and wobbly voice, im surprised it even came out to where he could understand it. I don't know if it was the dark room, the marks on my face or simply my vibe, but he got up and he left. When he did, the tears started again, stronger than ever.

Not because he left, but because I felt as though I failed him. He wanted to help me, maybe, but either way, I couldn't be strong enough to let him, I couldn't look at him or enjoy the day with him. And so the cycle continued, the tears, the feelings of hopelessness and the agony.

"Dream, I just don't know whats wrong with her, she's awake, but she wouldn't move or talk, besides saying to leave her alone." As george told the two other boys of his discoveries, everyone in the room seemed to still. Neither knew what to do because they didn't know what was happening.

"Is she okay, though?" Dream asked thoughtfully. George thought for a moment.

"Well, she, she had, it looked like she had been crying. There were lines down her face from her eyes and it looked like tears.

At this, nick spoke up. "Well, should we go get her out of bed?" Dream thought for a moment.

"I mean, George just tried that. It didn't seem to work to well." Sapnap sighed.

"Well we should at least try and get her up, she's been crying and is still in bed in the afternoon. We need to do something."

They all thought for a long while. Then, with one glance at each other, they decided to go upstairs and try to help. They were quiet while walking up the stairs, trying not to disturb the silence of the house.

The knock placed upon the door shook me, I didnt want anyone to see my sadness, I didnt want anyone to know I wasnt okay. I didnt want to see my boyfriends while I was like this. Hearing the door creek open, I started to cry, silently begging them not to see me like this.

Like before, a hand was place upon my shoulder, which caused me to flinch involuntarily. Everything seemed to still when this happened and it just caused more tears to fall, to which sapnap pulled back the covers and sat me up.

"Y/n, whats wrong? Please talk to us." There were still tears streaming down my face. I looked at the three men sitting before me, to which I saw all of them with red, tear brimmed eyes. This caused me to cry harder.

"I'm sorry." I sobbed out.

"For what, baby? You didn't do anything." Dream sat next to nick and held me with him.

"I didnt want to make you cry. I just don't feel well. It doesn't happen often but it did today." At this i shoved my head into sapnaps shoulder.

"Y/n, we just want to make sure you're okay." I cried into Nick's shoulder as clay rubbed circles on my back.

"I'm so sorry. I didnt want you guys to see me like this." George kneeled in front of me.

"Y/n, its okay, we're here for you and nothing can change that, its okay to cry and have days like this. We still love you all the same and more." I stared at george , not believing that anyone would actually stick around through something like this.

"How can you guys still love me?" I sobbed out.

"Because we care about you, nothing can change that. We all have bad days sometimes, its a part of life. You crying isn't going to make us stop loving you." Dream said.

George then opened the blinds and let light into the room.

"How about we all take a shower? Hmm, how does that sound?" I nodded while more tears ran down my cheeks.

"Oh, baby, its okay, come here." Dream picked me up and out me on his lap. Meanwhile sapnap and george went to start a shower.

"Hey, its okay, listen to me, I promise you there is absolutely nothing that could make any of us stop loving you. Its okay to cry."

I felt better with my boys around me, helping me out of my state of sadness, there's no one else I would rather have by my side.

[padsnprongs]

wolfstar headcanons that ✨just make sense✨

french sirius and welsh remus

they would speak to each other in their different languages all the time, mostly just to mess with each other.

they’d also say really romantic things, but in their different language, so the other wouldn’t know

remus is like insanely tall, but always slouches, whereas sirius is literally a dwarf but stands up really tall (talk about that ✨aristocracy✨ you know)

when remus had his growth spurt in the summer of fifth year, sirius was, understandably, shocked

but also maybe a little annoyed

how was he supposed to kiss him now?

in the end he decided to just grab his tie and pull him down

which remus didn't particularly mind

remus keeps his hair short, because it gets in the way. sirius loves remus' hair, because of how curly it is - remus hates it for the same reason

'I look like an idiot, pads!'

'no, you look cute.'

after sirius started living with the potters', his hair grew long, finally free of the strict rules of grimmauld place

when remus saw his long hair for the first time, on the train platform, he fell in love with him a little more

sirius turns into padfoot on the days surrounding the full moon to comfort remus. he’s literally like a therapy dog at this point.

sirius’ bed hasn’t been slept in since fifth year

cuddles

so many cuddles

lots of pda, much to james’ disgust

‘ugh, you guys, get a room!’

‘prongsie stop being homophobic.’

‘im not- what am i even supposed to say to that??’

‘nothing, that’s the point.’

sirius has a tattoo of the full moon that changes with the moon phases and remus has a tattoo of the canis major constellation - while the rest are just inked on, the sirius star seems to be actually glowing.

remus always seems to lose his jumpers, even though they’re some of his most valued items of clothing. he will eventually find sirius wearing them, but he can’t even be mad because sirius just looks so adorable in them.

remus, in return, will steal sirius’ leather jacket, which sirius doesn’t particularly mind. james, however, gets especially mad whenever this happens

‘well how come he’s allowed to wear it and I’m not? I’m literally your brother!’

sirius rests his head on remus’ lap whilst remus reads to him, and remus will stroke his hand through sirius' hair

remus loves to french plait his hair, and sirius is adamant about leaving the plait in for as long as possible

‘sirius, it’s been three days, you need to wash your hair! I can always re-plait it!’

‘...fine. but only if you promise.’

remus is constantly freezing cold, which shows through the countless jumpers and scarves he will pile on, even in the height of summer

his feet alone are like blocks of ice, which sirius never misses an opportunity to complain about whenever they share a bed

sirius, on the other hand, is a human sauna, and will still be wearing shorts in the middle of winter

when they cuddle, their contrasting levels of body heat cancel each other out perfectly

basically, whenever remus gets too cold, or sirius gets too hot, you’ll undoubtedly find them clinging to each other

sirius always gets really worried after the full moon, and insists on looking after remus - he makes sure he has enough pillows, sneaks him food because the hospital wing food isn’t the nicest, makes him drink water, takes notes for him during the lessons he misses, and just generally stays by his side as long as he can, until madam pomfrey has to kick him out

sirius worries so much during and after the full moon that it often makes remus feel guilty, but he also finds it really sweet that sirius cares so much

he still tries to make sirius see sense and stop him from worrying, because he has really bad self esteem issues after the full moon and doesn’t think he deserves it. whenever he tries to tell sirius this, he says that sirius shouldn’t feel obligated to look after him, because he’s a monster.

every single time, sirius will take his hand, look into his eyes, and tell him firmly, ‘you are not a monster, moony.’

peter will then add that ‘you fold your socks, moony, we’re not exactly scared of you.’

and remus will wonder how he got so lucky as to have such amazing friends

whenever sirius is ill, remus will try his best to return the favour. sirius will insist that he doesn’t get ill, ‘don’t worry, remus, I’m fine’, even though he can barely move

but remus won’t listen, and turns into a proper mother hen, fussing over him and making sure he has everything he need, just trying to repay sirius for all he does during the full moons

illness = constant cuddles

but lbr there are constant cuddles regardless

they got together because they both kept confiding in james and lily about their unrequited feelings and how hopelessly in love they were, and james and lily got sick of it and decided to work together to set them up bc they were both so hopelessly oblivious.

that’s also how lily got to know james better, and see that he wasn’t as arrogant as she thought, and he actually cares deeply about his friends

but these are wolfstar headcanons not jily so moving on

they had a very touchy feely relationship even before they got together. they were always very close, and their bond was different than it was with james and peter

sirius loves to bake, whilst remus loves to cook, but if they try to do it the other way around, bad things happen

they would often sneak into the kitchens late at night and try to make something, fool around, mess up, and end up snogging surrounded by the mess of ingredients

late nights on the astronomy tower!! they did this even before they got together; when either of them couldn’t sleep, they would go up there and just sit together and look at the stars. their first date was a picnic up there, and it became their own special place where they both felt safe

nose kisses!! forehead kisses!! cheek kisses!! adorable

whenever they're messing about they'll almost always end up in each others arms, saying ‘I hate you’ whilst grinning bc they both know that they don’t mean it and it’s actually the exact opposite

when sirius can’t sleep, he’ll watch remus (in like. a non-creepy way) and count his freckles. once remus caught him in the act and thought it was the softest thing he’d ever seen

remus talks in his sleep. sometimes he just mutters random words that don’t make sense, and sometimes he can have full on conversations with sirius.

sirius thinks it’s the funniest thing ever and teases remus mercilessly about it in the mornings, even though remus has no memory of it and denies everything.

when they’re alone in the hospital wing after a full moon, sirius will hold remus’ hand and sing softly to comfort him and help him sleep.

remus absolutely adores sirius' voice, and tries to get him to sing more, and in front of other people, but sirius is adamant that the only reason he sings to remus is because it helps soothe him, and his voice isn’t all that great.

his lack of self confidence about his voice is due to his parents constantly yelling at him to stop singing, because they said it was annoying and he didn’t have a good voice, and he believed them, and still does. It’s one of his biggest insecurities.

the first time they said they loved each other was actually an accident. they had gotten all caught up in planning a prank and sirius smirked and said, ‘aren’t i just the most creative person you’ve ever met?’, with a dramatic flip of his hair

remus just chuckled and replied, ‘that’s why I love you.’

remus didn’t even realise he’d said it out loud until he saw sirius staring at him with a dropped jaw.

then remus panicked, but before he could get up and leave, sirius grinned and said it back.

and then they kissed, obviously

remus may be tough and sarcastic and sirius may be proud and overconfident but they’re both big softies really

remus cheers sirius on at every single quidditch practice, come rain or shine

he says he’s just supporting his boyfriend, but secretly he thinks Sirius looks really good in that quidditch jersey

remus loves it when sirius wears eyeliner. no reason. just looks cool.

literally everyone had a bet on when they would get together. minnie and dumbledore, james and pete, lily and marlene, james and lily, james and dorcas...

james likes betting

there are frequent updates on their relationship in the staff room, because all of the teachers just know they're meant to be

the teachers had a field day when they first got together

madam pomfrey, especially, always sees them together in the hospital wing, and by fourth year, is their no1 shipper

they both get frequent nightmares, and will always comfort each other and cuddle after because they feel safe in each other’s arms.

literally the least toxic relationship ever. they’re both incredibly honest with each other, always talk to each other about how they feel, but also have that perfect balance of banter

if not soulmates, why moon and stars??

[sanzulicious]

My first post i hope you like it!

•Warnings•

This story contains

Smut,angst,comfort,cursing

Ill be using bonten sanzu for this ;)

I dont own these characters they are owned by ken wakui.

It was indeed a beautiful day in tokyo Were the city full of people walking. Y/n a girl who works at a cafe with 3 other people your the cashier taking orders while the others prepare.

“Hello there what can i get you today?” You say to them.

“Frappe please!” They said.

“Sure thing” you say while putting it in.

“It will be right out” you say.

“Y/n are you busy tonight? Your coworker erika asks.

“Huh oh Well ive been wanting to watch this show for the longest thats what i have planned for tonight why?” you say.

“Really how boring y/n dont you ever have a club to go in mind? its a friday night. Have you even been to a club y/n?” Erika says with a scoff.

“First off its not boring they said its acutally a good show besides..i rather do that than go to a club and get hit on by gross thirsty men.” You said.

“Well they hit on you because your hot, besides i never seen you with a guy before are you a lesbian by chance?” Erika asks with a hand over her mouth.

“Shut up erika im not gay. And if i was you’d see me with someone im just not in the mood to date anyone at the momment.”

Thats right you werent you will get hit on at a store or anywhere you were at you were indeed hot like erika said but you never gave any guy a chance last time you had boyfriend was back in highschool 11th grade. His name was ryota but eventually you guys broke up since then you havent seen him. You were working to save up money to move out of japan and go to the usa since you have family there and your cousins.

“Let her be erika if she doesnt wanna go its fine let her be boring.” Your other coworker kai said with a wink.

“Ha-ha very funny and stop saying boring im not boring okay i have fun with myself okay..” you say crossing your arms.

“Ouu What kind of fun with youself” kai says with a wink again.

“masterbate” erika says with a whisper.

“HAHAHA” both kai and erika laugh.

“FUCK YOU GUYS im done with you two” you say.

Kai and erika were your coworkers well also friends. You met them at the cafe you were new and eventually yall became friends they would always joke around they are heavy jokesters sometimes they go to far. Like rightnow. They were different than you, you weren’t exactly the going out type you were more into staying home and companied with your dog prince. You make plans of what you were gonna do in the usa once you saved up money but you still had long way to go but to you there wasnt a problem with planning early. And you weren’t exactly a drinker either, you would only drink to a limit your still sober in your own house.

“Oi everyone has needs girl its okay* *wink* kai says.

You roll your eyes with a smirk.

“YO so anyways come to a club with us y/n out of all the times we invited you, you cant skip this one girl it is turned up” erika says.

“Oh yeah its in Roppongi girl you cant miss this one we wont take no for an answer.” Kai said.

“In Roppongi?” You say.

“Yeah they say the club is owned by these two brothers but this one is gonna be different its gonna be under the name kokonoi whos hosting something there supposedly theres gonna be a game and they’re gonna bet money and whoever wins gets 100k” Erika says cheerfully.

“Well im for sure gonna join the game, you should to y/n i mean you might win since you are saving up money to leave us you whore.. this is an opportunity for you, you should go for it.” Kai says.

Im not “leaving” you guys there is something called facetime and i can come visit sometimes. And also there’s no way in hell ill win but i do need money so 50/50 chance. For that ill take a risk. But i hate partys, but..fuck it i need money.” You say with a sigh.

“Thats the spirit!” Erika says with a smile.

“*sigh* so you said its tonight right? Well what time are you guys picking me up im not taking my car so you better give me ride erika if you want me to go.” You say.

“I knew your cheap ass was gonna say that and ill pick you up at 11pm.” Erika says pinching your cheek.

“We barely have costumers today this place looks like desert dry as hell.” Kai says.

“Well yeah we barely had 6 customers today.. what do you think sumiko?” Erika asks the other coworker.

“Hehe yeah i think this place might need an upgrade?.” The girl says.

“Hell yeah” erika says.

“Haha” you laugh.

*8:00pm*

Later that day you closed the cafe heading home. Once you made it home you threw your keys on the counter and went to your room and landed on the bed *sigh* “im tired i dont even wanna go but what can i do if i need the money theres a chance i might win i might be lucky right prince hehe.” You say to you dog laying beside you. You dog tilt his head to the side. You grabed your phone from your pocket and checked the time just “2hrs 1/2 left before she picks me up” you say. You got up and went to you closet to see what dress youll wear tonight.

“Hmm no not this one”.. “bleh”.. “o-ohh this one looks good havent wore this one yet” you grabbed a pretty black dress. “Ill wear this one i guess with these black heels”. You say.

2hrs 1/2 passed by you were ready and you were waiting for erika. While you were waiting you felt pretty nervous to go well nervous about the game maybe its gonna be hard to win who knows you kept overthinking. *HONK* “Y/N im outside you whore.” You heard erika yelling outside. You look out the window you grabbed your keys and phone and said goodbye to your dog prince.

“Are you fucking kidding me erika my neighbors heard you your being to loud they are asleep at this hour” you say.

“Yeah yeah” WOOOO!*HONK**HONK* erika speeds off.

“Your so fucking childish erika” kai say.

“HEY IM HERE TO HAVE FUN ALRIGHT!” Erika shouts.

“Yeah but dont be loud and can you slow down before we get a ticket.” You say.

“You guys SUCK” erika says.

“Haha” kai laughs.

*End of chapter 1*

I know its short ill make the other one longer.

I hope you like this chapter thank you for reading.!

•Heres the outfit you chose•

[jovishark]

sorry to bother if you dont want to answer thats totally fine, but i havent listened to mbmbam in a while, whats been happening with travis saying "huh" ?

[disclaimer: this is not what i would put in a review but im saying this here bc its not intended for them to see. yes i know the mcelroys are all real people and i know their podcast is twelve fuckin years old and i know they all try really hard. but here goes]

well. basically travis is the one who picks the questions and everything so he sees them days in advance of recording. any time (since around the 400s) griffin or justin finishes reading a question or a statement or a press release travis immediately goes HUH. like hes considering it. but he never gives the message any room to Breathe so you know hes not really, hes just making a noise to let them know hes still in the room or that he has an opinion. he instantly sets the stage as 'HEY its me and im here, and i think im very funny'

and its not even just that its like. he doesnt give them any room to talk anymore. and when they do he interrupts them either to steal their joke or "posit" his own and Griffin Himself has pointed it out multiple times that travis needs to let them talk and contribute and travis goes riiiiight rightrightrightright BUT let me just- like no. dude come on. its making it hard to listen to but Also it sounds more and more like griffin is just so tired and mumbly because hes just waiting to get interrupted

and i used to really like travis!! in the Thank Travis For Travis days yes i thought he was really funny because sure his joke was that he was self centered but it was because he actually had something to say. his advice was tempered and sometimes informative and sometimes a fun joke but it was BALANCED with griffin doing a funny voice or justin pointing out some down to earth stuff. now its like. hes doing the same joke about being the greatest, but worse, since he steps on both of them to make it? he butts in with a joke thats not funny and expects them to pick up the pieces

literally in like. episode 605 or 604 he brings up "i am the Quintessential Millennial Dad [Cis Straight Man Edition] because i listen to matchbox twenty while i mow the lawn" and griffin and justin just. sat there. and eventually moved on while travis kept saying oh, i thought that was gonna be- that was a bit, because see, you guys are also millennial dads who- no? okay, i just thought- oh, okay AND it was incredibly weird and dumb and awkward. travis is getting really performative and not in a fancy takes flight way, but in a way that like. you scroll past on twitter. in a way that you roll your eyes at and hope it stops soon. but for some reason hes decided that not only will he make the podcast all about him but he will do it using buzzwords that most people on tumblr would blacklist And he will do it in direct defiance of both griffin and justin asking him to please not

when jesse thorn made that ad that says 'mbmbam is good now, i promise' i think he spoke too soon. justin and griffin arent without fault but at least them reading press releases and other peoples articles to me is a pleasant audio experience. travis just tramples bits and makes the same bad noise and only picks questions hes interested in because he thinks he can worm a story out of them when really all hes doing is making me buy youtube music

tl;dr he interrupts so much and so badly it makes me visibly uncomfortable

EDIT: i will add to this that i KNOW travis has adhd and impulse control. i know this because he brings it up constantly as an excuse for acting like this. he says its a thing hes had since childhood but it only manifested on mbmbam 400 episodes in, so? i dont know man. im not going to get into anybodys mental illness but yes im aware of this as a thing and id like to say its an explanation but not an excuse for ruining a podcast you and your brothers spent a decade on

[simpsiren]

Summer’s promise

xiaojun x reader

description. Your final moment with xiaojun at the beachside before the two of you go your separate ways. Or perhaps not.

genre. FLUFF, a bit emotional but bear with me im emotional rn <\3

word count. 2.9k~

warnings. nonee

a/n. i actually had a plot to this but realise that its not that good so ill limit it to this! its a very short and direct plot so cjdndn either way i hope you’ll enjoyyy

It’s three in the morning. Xiaojun had his fingers interlocked with yours as your hands met unintentionally at the back. You lean back while Xiaojun had his body forward. You rest your head on his shoulder, snuggling up in the crook of his neck while you find a comfortable spot. Eventually you did, breathing in to take in his scent.

The cold breeze touches your skin. Sounds of the waves crashing against the rocks you and Xiaojun are sitting on. You allow your legs to dangle freely on the edge. The night sky really setting the tone and atmosphere right just for the two of you.

“I don’t want to leave.” You mutter, lips brushing against his skin ever so lightly.

“You have to, love. Get back to your life in the city.” Xiaojun breathes out. Once again he calls you by the nickname love. A nickname you have grown to get too comfortable with in the short span of three months during your stay here.

“You know I’ll miss you.” You look up at him, your action causing to tilt his head down. Your eyes meet. His gaze staring into yours. It just feel so right, so perfect. To have you with him on a chilly night. For once, time has frozen for the two of you. You take in the moment quickly before it fades away.

“I said we’ll meet some day, didn’t i?” Xiaojun brings his free hand up to tuck a few strands behind your ear, you feel his chest moving up and down calmly as he tilts his head, taking a moment to admire every inch of your face.

You scoff, the side of your lip lifting up into a small smirk. “Uhuh. But you said to let fate do that for us.” You blurt out.

“Yes I did. And if fate doesn’t want us to happen, I’ll fuck it and find my own way to you. I just thought it’ll be a beautiful way to meet each other again.”

“Sending postcards of the cities we’re in? I’ll be in another country, Dejun. Still can’t get used to the idea but I somewhat see the beauty in that.”

Xiaojun chuckles softly. Oh the chuckle. No matter how many times you’ve heard it, it really still makes you feel some type of way.

His hand slowly creeps down to your waist, pulling you in closer to him. You lift a hand, you didn’t know where to put it. You just want to touch him. Absentmindedly, it arrives at his hair, threading your fingers through his soft and fluffy locks. Maybe that’s why your hand went there. To feel it for one last time before you leave.

“I want to stay here. With you. With your run-down, aesthetically pleasing tiny bookstore. I want to have you reading me poems. Or any book, huddled up in one corner while you read till I fall asleep in your arms.”

You let out a gloomy sigh, making Xiaojun put on a frown. You frown back, leaning in to give a quick peck on his nose to make him smile. And it worked. As it always did. And as it always should.

“What’s the time duration of letting fate bring us together again?”

Xiaojun purses his lips into a thin line, the gears in his head turning immensely as he tries coming up with an answer. “That’s for fate to decide too.”

You furrow your eyes, skeptical at his answer. “This summer... Has been the best one yet for me.”

“I’m thankful I agreed to Lucas inviting me here. I wouldn’t have met you otherwise.” You let out. The two of you stare into the blankness ahead of you, admiring the sight of the moonlight reflecting on the sea, giving it a beautiful glow.

“Promise you won’t forget me? Whatever we did during this summer. Don’t forget a single detail.” You start off.

Xiaojun raises both his eyebrows, allowing you to continue.

“No matter how long it takes for us to see each other. No matter where our life takes us. Whatever that’s going to happen in the future. Promise me you won’t forget what we had here.”

Xiaojun leans in and places a loving kiss on the crown of your head. He stays there, prolonging the kiss.

“I promise. It’s not an empty one, don’t worry. Like I said, if fate won’t allow it, I’ll still find my way to you regardless.” Xiaojun reassures you, his lips still touching your hair. He finally pulls away, wrapping an arm around your shoulders while yours creep to wrap around his torso.

And that’s the last time you saw Xiaojun. You stayed there till five, knowing you have to go back and pack your things before leaving.

You thought about what he said. Fate. He keeps mentioning it. But to be honest, you didn’t believe in it. Anything can happen during the time the two of you are apart. How long will it take for fate to bring you two together? Will he even remember you by then?

He promised but again, anything can happen. You were unsure and uncertainty clouded your thoughts throughout. You were scared, but you had to trust him. You had to believe. Xiaojun will come back to you.

Four years. You’ve been waiting for four years. The only thing that reminds you of him is the ring bought you. Cheap, but holds a deep meaning you can barely hold onto anymore. Your fingers fiddled with the ring for a moment.

“_____!” Lucas calls out. You quickly put your hands down and clasp them behind your back. “Yeah?”

“My friend’s having a wedding this weekend. Was thinking of inviting you.” You pucker your lips, looking up to think before tilting your head back to Lucas, nodding your head.

“Sure, why not?” You reply with a light shrug.

“Don’t forget to bring a date.”

Your eyes narrows as you cock up a brow. “We need a date to a wedding?” You huff out, scoffing lightly after.

Lucas hums and nods his head eagerly. “Duh! Plus, the wedding will be at some grand place since he’s rich. Lucky him.” Lucas says boringly with a glare.

“Yeah. Pretty sure he got that money from illegal racing.” You let out a ‘tsk’, shaking your head and acting disappointed.

“Uh no it’s legal, dumb.” Lucas retorts. “Anyways just ask someone from your work place. Oh maybe that YangYang? You’re close with him, aren’t you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Yeah.” You blurt out. Lucas smiles and walks towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder and patting it once. “I’ll text you the details.”

“You better keep your promise.” Yangyang bores you. The two of you are sitting down at a corner, watching the other people that were invited being social. Something the two of you have in common despite not relly liking each other that much.

You groan, placing your glass of alcohol on the table. “Yes, Yangyang. I’ll get you your damn cupcakes.” You growl. Yangyang chuckles, letting out a sigh after.

“Thanks.” He whispers. You let out a ‘tsk’ while throwing him a glare.

The two of you didn’t talk much. You had nothing to talk about either. It has just been comfortable silence between you two for the past two hours. You would heard bits and pieces of stranger’s conversation. That’s how bored you were.

You suddenly see Lucas running up to you, looking completely frantic. You shot up from your seat and catch Lucas in your arms. He stands up straight and catches his breathing. “He’s here.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Who? The groom?” You ask, tiptoeing to see across the crown if the groom has arrived. Lucas gapes his mouth open with furrowed eyes. “No, idiot!”

“I don’t know how, but he’s here. Your little beach boy.”

You give an even more skeptical look, making Lucas groan and grab your arms. “He’s fucking here after four years and you’re giving me that face?!”

“Yeah because I highly doubt you saw him. He’s literally countries away. I think you’re being delusional.”

Lucas shakes your body vigorously, making you scream and asking him to get off of you. He finally does, looking extremely frustrated with you. “Bitch I’m not kidding. He’s by the dessert area with some guys.”

You snort, laughing slightly after as the alcohol starts to seep into your weak system. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll believe it sure.”

“Is she already fucking drunk?” Lucas turns to YangYang, who was staring at a fixated spot in the venue till he was called. “She drank a bit yeah.” Lucas places a palm on his forehead.

“Chill, I didn’t drink. I’ll take care of her.” YangYang deadpans. Lucas lets out a disappointing sigh. “Well whatever. See you around man.” Lucas waves a lazy hand at YangYang. He didn’t even bother to wave back, turning his attention to you who had your body slouched forward while leaning against the table with your chin resting on the palm of your hand.

During the wedding, you weren’t paying attention to anything. The event, your surroundings. Nothing. Instead, you are constantly stealing a glass every time a waiter or waitress walks by. The moment they take your empty glass away, you take another one. Surprisingly, you got drunk . Very drunk. And very quickly as well.

You didn’t even know why you suddenly want to get drunk. You know yourself well enough to know that you would be dizzy by two drinks. You’re now on your fifth.

You stand up, wanting to go to the toilet. Losing your balance, you trip, causing YangYang to immediately hold you by your torso. You grab onto his arm, gulping before shaking your head. “I can go myself.”

“Where are you going?” Yangyang asks softly. “I need to pee.” You whine, pushing YangYang off you and slowly head there, clearly staggering and having YangYang help you along the way.

“Okay. I’ll be waiting outside. Don’t take too long.” YangYang shouts out while you go into the toilet, hands placed on the wall constantly throughout your trip in and out.

It didn’t take you long luckily. You thought you had to vomit but it turns out you didn’t.

“Oi. Xiao Dejun.” YangYang turns his head to you, his body leaning against the wall and folding his arms. He stands up straight, tilting his head and wondering if you’re referring to him.

You run up to him, wrapping your arms around your waist. You giggle for a moment before changing your expression to an angry one. YangYang wasn’t sure of how to react, he’s never seen you drunk before.

“Fuck you. It’s been four years. Where are you?” You whine, constantly punching on his chest with a balled fist. YangYang blinks his eyes in confusion while multiple eyes glance at you as they pass by thr toilet. YangYang clears his throat, lightly tapping your back as a signal to get off him. Obviously it’s not working.

“Dejun~ You little shit...” You mumble to yourself. You eventually allow your body to fall against YangYang’s, having him to catch you and hold you steadily while you dug your face into his chest.

“Get off her.” You suddenly hear a voice. You couldn’t make out where you’ve heard it from. It’s like the voice from a distant and clouded memory. You try squeezing your brain for information, constantly asking yourself where you’ve heard it before, but you blacked out almost immediately after hearing YangYang reply with a, “Who are you to tell me that?”

You wake up with your head banging, the world spinning as you have a bad headache. Wincing, you put your hands on your head, massaging to try reducing the pain. On top of you being a lightweight, you have terrible hangovers as well.

Fuck. You thought to yourself. It took awhile to get back to your senses, noticing how you’re in an unfamiliar place. Looking around, you’re on a bed. Large, comfortable and soft. The room looks plain, and you didn’t know where you are.

Did you have a one night stand last night?

As soon as the thought came to your mind, you look under the covers. You heave a sigh of relief, seeing that you still had your dress on.

You try getting out of bed, instantly plopping back down as your head starts to spin again. You whine, turning your body to the side as you dig your head into the pillow. You were so desperate in trying to do anything to stop it.

“Here’s some hangover soup.” You heard it again. The voice. The only thing you remembered from last night.

You hear the door open. Your eyes trail from the sheets, slowly but surely looking up to meet the gaze of him.

You squint your eyes. Your vision’s extremely blurry. Rubbing your eyes to get a clearer view, you are finally able to see the face in front of you. The sight makes you widen your eyes in shock. You move your body back quickly, your head hitting the headboard of the bed and making you wince in pain.

You hear him chuckle.

There’s no way.

“Dejun?” You mumble, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed in confusion.

He clicks his tongue, nodding. “Still a klutz after all these years.” You hear him say as he makes his way to you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Wait. I’m not hallucinating? Fuck is it my hangover?” You scratch your head, still refusing to believe the sight in front of you is real.

After four years, he suddenly shows up with you in his bed. Xiaojun is here.

He lets out a quiet sigh. “I was at the wedding last night.” He explains, reaching out to put the soup on the side table before turning to you and crossing hus legs.

“How did you...”

“Some friend invited me.”

You kept silent, wanting to take a good look at his face. He still has it. His handsomeness. Sharp features that could kill like a knife. Hair perfectly wet, still jet black like how it was before. He didn’t change in terms of appearance. Or maybe perhaps to looks a thousand times better now that you’ve seen him after so long.

“How did you find me...?” You stutter. “Four years. It took your four fucking years.” You croak, suddenly letting your emotions fill your mind. You gulp and take in deep breaths, wanting to stop yourself from crying. Too late.

A single drop of tear rolls down your cheek. Your eyes welling up and about to overflow in seconds. Xiaojun wastes no time to pull you into his embrace, arms wrapping around you and holding you close.

This feeling. The comfort, the way he touches you. The feeling you get from this. It all comes back to you. It’s true that you remembered everything from last summer. But to have them resurface just from his single touch after being shoved deep in the back of the head.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I took so long, love.” The nickname. Another thing that makes you cry even more. You hug him tightly, hands gripping onto his black sweater as it slowly gets wet from your tears.

“How did you find me?” You ask again, looking up at him, indulging yourself in his eyes that look down on you filled with love and care.

Xiaojun frowns. “You sent me postcards from different cities. Every time I went there, you’d be gone and to another one. You don’t know how frustrating it was...”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Absentmindedly bringing your hand up from his waist and to his neck, drawing circles on it. “I traveled a lot. To get you off my mind. But I realise I always had to send you something. Something to hope that you’ll still remember be.”

“You said to let fate decide.”

Xiaojun lets out a low chuckle, one that makes a shiver being sent down your spine as you feel his chest moving from it.

“I waited for a year. But I couldn’t handle not seeing you. You didn’t start sending postcards till the second year. So I instantly started looking for you.”

His hand swiftly goes down to yours, his fingers trailing down your skin. Again, his touch, is everything to you. You suddenly feel alive. Even your headache went away miraculously.

“My ring...” Xiaojun mumbles under his breath, his thumb caressing it slowly. You hum. “I took it off for awhile actually. I didn’t think I’d see you again cause’ I thought... After our summer, we’d be nothing but ancient history.”

Xiaojun frowns deeply, making you pout. “Meanie. I told you I don’t keep empty promises.”

You lean in close to his face, so close that your noses were touching. “I’m sorry, I was scared. About the fact that three months wouldn’t mean anything to you.”

Xiaojun presses his forehead against yours gently, his action making you gulp while holding your hands and interlocking his fingers with yours.

“You mean a lot to me. The three months was short, yes. But the things we did there, you know I can never forget it.”

Xiaojun leans in more, this time to the point where his lips brushed yours while he speak.

You close your eyes for a moment. “I missed you.” You whisper, soft but sincere.

“I missed you more, love.”

[brelione]

In The End (The Best Boys)

Warnings:For the love of god everyones doing too much, yelling, not proof read

Series Masterlist

You took in a deep, shaky breath.Rafe bit his lip, leaning down to kiss you gently. “Lets go downstairs, okay?”He asked, large hand going to hold yours.You nodded, slowly sitting up with a slight pain in your abdomen.

He went into your closet to get you something loose and soft, helping you get dressed. “Im sure hes fine, alright?Dont worry.”He grinned, kissing the top of your head.The two of you sat anxiously on the couch, listening for Kelce’s car.

You jumped when you heard the car door slam, your door opening a few moments later.His breathing was fast and shallow, eyes wide and sweat dripping from his hairline and tears falling from his eyes.He didnt say anything, hands shaking as he stared back at you.Rafe’s hand was sitting on your thigh, almost trying to hold you back from going to Kelce.

You werent sure if the action was out of jealousy or if he was just worried about you trying to approach Kelce while he was in this state of mind.It didnt matter though.Once the slight shock had worn off you quickly made your way to Kelce, wrapping your arms tight around him.

He was shaking under your touch, a few of his tears falling into your hair as he leaned against you with his arms around your shoulders. “You’re okay, you’re okay.”You repeated, rubbing his back.He shook his head, squeezing you so hard that it hurt.

You looked over to Rafe, trying to figure out what had happened. “Im sorry.”Kelce sobbed, whistling sounds coming from his nose as he tried to take deep breaths.Your hand moved to run through his hair and rub the back of his neck, feeling him start to relax a bit

. “Kelce….what happened?”You asked, your thumb tracing over his cheekbone lightly.He didnt move away from you, squeezing you tighter.He could tell by the way you and Rafe kept looking at eachother that he was freaking you guys out and it didnt exactly help with how stressed he was.

 “I dont know what to do.”He cried, his nose starting to run.You didnt know what to do either, holding him and whispering into his ear.He closed his eyes, taking in deep breaths, listening to you.It couldve been minutes or hours, you werent exactly sure but it didnt really matter.

Rafe was just confused, not understand how to help or what could have happened to make Kelce act like this.You eventually got him to stand up, holding your hand as you practically dragged him.He sat on your counter, hands shaking as you got him some water and squeezed lemon juice into it.

His eyes were puffy and red, eyebrows messed up and his nose was irritated.He was a mess.You werent sure if he’d be able to hold the cup on his own, putting it next to him for when he’d be able to. “You okay, little man?”You asked, offering him a towel to wipe his nose with.

He didnt answer but took the towel anyways, holding it to his nose.Rafe came into the kitchen, looking at Kelce with a puzzled expression.Kelce let his eyes fall to Rafe’s neck, letting out a low sigh.Topper was right. 

“I dont know what happened...I just got mad and I dont know.I think I blacked out...I dont know.”He muttered.Rafe nodded, understanding. “I was on the phone with Topper.And he-he said that uh….that he told you something.”He glanced over to Rafe, taking in a deep breath.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, looking over to Rafe too. “And he told me...that you and Rafe are dating.I dont know...it’s stupid.”Kelce muttered, looking down into his cup.You bit the inside of your cheek, not sure how what to say or if you should deny it or not.

 “Okay...um….okay.”You nodded, thinking about it.You hadnt considered Rafe your boyfriend, things hadnt really gotten that far yet when it came to feelings.Or maybe they had. “It doesnt matter...theres just so much happening and I got stressed and everything just happened so fast and I didnt know what to do.”He explained, squeezing the towel in his hand.

There was no way of getting out of this.Why did life have to be this way? “So um….whats the main problem here?”You asked, remembering how he’d ask you that when you had an anxiety attack.He squeezed the towel harder, wanting to scream. 

“Everything is the main problem!I cant-I cant just pretend anymore!Ive been pretending for years and I just cant-do you know how fucked all of this is?”He asked, the towel falling to the floor.On instinct Rafe had pulled you closer to him, not sure what was going to happen but was more than shocked when you moved away from him. 

“What do you mean you’ve been pretending?”You asked, not understanding what he was talking about.He laughed, his eyes watering again. “Havent you noticed?Four years, (Y/N)!Four fucking years i’ve been in love with you and you havent noticed and im trying my best to keep it from you cause its not your problem to deal with but its hard, okay?I’ve been trying to control myself and control everyone else and I know its fucked, alright?And then Rafe just takes you away and he knows too!And he’s known about Topper-thats so goddamn fucked!”Kelce exclaimed, standing up now.

He didnt even know what he was saying, ranting about all of his thoughts. “How are you so oblivious?How have you not seen the signs?dont you see how mad Topper gets when you’re all over Rafe?If you love Rafe thats fine but could you at least let us know so that we dont have that little bit of hope?Cant you just do that for me?”He asked, his breathing shallow.Rafe looked over at you too, waiting for you to reply.He knew he loved you.He had known for a long time that it was something more than a little crush.

Topper walked up your driveway, nearly losing his balance a few times on the way to your door that was open for some reason.He was glad that it was darker out so he didnt have to worry about wearing the ugly sunglasses his doctor told him to wear.

 “Guys?”He called out, hearing shouts from the kitchen.Rafe peaked out from the kitchen, frowning when he saw Topper. “What the hell is going on?”The blonde asked, coming into the kitchen.You looked over at him before looking back over to Kelce. “Topper-I think you were right.”Kelce replied quietly, looking at you.

 “Can you guys shut the hell up?”Rafe asked, becoming increasingly annoyed with the situation. “Kelce, man, I get what you’re trying to say but none of this is helpful, okay?”Rafe asked, surprising himself.This was usually Kelce’s job. 

“No, Rafe, it’s not okay.I cant just pretend that I dont feel the things I do anymore.I get that you dont have to hide it anymore and thats fucking fantastic for you but I dont want to hide it either, ight?”Kelce took in a deep breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

You felt Topper staring at you, regretting coming over here.He figured that he hadnt left things on the best note, wanting to come over and talk to you a little more since he was sure that he had freaked you out.

Somehow the four of you ended up on the floor, glancing at eachother as you all calmed down. “Rafe and I....we arent dating.”You spoke up, hoping that it wouldnt start another argument.

Rafe licked his lips, taking in a deep breath through his nose.He knew that it wasnt official but he hoped that you didnt see him as just a friend with benefits. 

“You dont have to date someone to love them, (Y/N).”Topper reminded you, his eyes trapped on his casted arm that rested in its black sling.You huffed, resting the back of your head on the cabinets.

 “I know, Top.I know....”You mumbled, tapping your fingertips on your kneecap. “Listen, im sorry for being a bitch.Its just...I dont know.I think I need to figure myself out.Between you guys and my parents I just bottle everything up.I shouldnt have blown up like that.”Kelce admitted, relieved when you reached over and squeezed his hand. 

“I get it, bubs.You know you can always talk to us, right?”You asked, wanting to hug him tightly and never let go but you figured it woul probably be awkward for him under these circumstances. 

“Yeah.”He replied, scratching at his eyebrow. “(Y/N)...you know we cant just forget that this conversation happened.We have to talk about this.”Topper spoke sternly, knowing that you would try to change the topic.Rafe nodded in agreement, wanting to know where he stood with you. 

“I know, I know.But....I dont think I know how I feel if im being honest.But if-when I do ill let you guys know, okay?”You asked, your heart pounding in your chest.You were such a liar.You werent supposed to lie to your bestfriends.

They all mumbled, shrugging.It wasnt exactly understandable but you assumed that it was a yes anyways, slowly standing up.Your legs were still partly tingling because of Rafe but you were just glad you could walk.

 “im going upstairs.You guys should just stay here for the night.”You told them, heading up to your bedroom quickly.You laid down on your bed, wishing that you had never slept with Rafe.Maybe that wouldnt make things so difficult for you right now.You couldnt imagine how upset you had made Rafe just a few moments ago.

“It doesnt matter if she ends up dating me, you know she cares about you guys more than anything else.”Rafe told them, biting the inside of his cheek.Topper chuckled, shaking his head. 

“You always get everything you want, Rafe.You get all her attention and even when I was in the hospital all she cared about was you.”He replied, glaring at his friend.Kelce groaned, resting his head against his palm. 

“We had to drag her out of the hospital, Topper.Literally.”He laid down on the tile floor, staring at the ceiling. “Come on, Kelce.She goes to you about everything.You know a whole side of her that we’ve never seen.That’s special.”Topper answered, wondering what kind of secrets Kelce knew that he didnt.Kelce’s eyes widened, sitting up again. 

“Wait-she doesnt tell you guys about our cooking talks?”Kelce asked.They shook their heads, chuckling. “Nope, might as well tell us about it.”Rafe grinned, excited to hear stories.Kelce smiled, feeling his face heat up.That meant it was his special thing that he had with you and noone else.

 “hmm...no.I’ll just keep it to myself.”Kelce answered, hearing them groan. “Wow, I see how it is.”Topper smiled.They sat on the floor talking for hours, eventually getting up and making a huge pot of ramen.

 “So what did you miss most while you were in the hospital?”Kelce asked, stirring the noodles. “Movie nights, one thousand percent.”He grabbed a bowl from the cabinet.

He thought about it constantly at night when you were asleep next to him on the hospital bed.He wondered what movies you’d all be watching together if he hadnt left the house that night.Rafe smiled, grabbing a fork.

 “We can have one of those now.I’ll go get (Y/N).”He turned to leave but was stopped by Kelce. “I’ll go.”He said quickly, not waiting for an answer before jogging upstairs.You had fallen asleep face down on your bed, snoring into the pillow.He stood in the doorway for a moment, listening to your breathing.

He sat at the foot of the bed, tapping your leg lightly. “Nooo....”You mumbled, moving your arms under the pillow to get more comfortable. “(Y/N), do you want some ramen?”Kelce asked, trying not to laugh. 

“hmmm....”You hummed into the pillow. “(Y/N).”He whispered again. “Whatttt?”You asked, voice muffled by the pillowcase. “Ramen.”He repeated, feeling you shift around. 

“What kind?”You asked, still half asleep. “Chicken with butter and garlic and fried egg.”He answered.You placed your head back on the pillow, thinking about it but slowly drifting into sleep again. 

“(Y/N).”He laughed, laying down to face you. “Yeah?”You asked, eyes squinting. “Ramen.”He repeated once more.You hummed, wrapping your arms around him. “No.”You answered. 

“You dont want ramen?”He asked, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. “Yeah.”You answered, mouth slightly open as your face pressed against his shirt. “You want ramen?”He asked, scratching at your side.

 “Yeah.”You answered, your voice high pitched from sleep. “You gotta get up.”He told you, smiling to himself when your grip tightened. “No.”You answered, your leg falling across his stomach.

 “then you dont get ramen.”he answered. “Rude.”You grumbled, refusing to move off of him.He laughed, glad that you werent acting any different after everything that had happened.

He held on tight to you, rolling off the bed. “Put me down.”You yawned, wrapping your arms around him. “No.”He answered, walking down the stairs with you.The scent of ramen and garlic filled your nostrils, hearing a bowl being set down on the marble countertop.

Kelce put you down on one of the chairs, pushing a bowl of ramen in front of you.They were just poking at their noodies, swirling them onto their forks before letting it fall back into the bowl. 

“My mom called.”Topper blew on some noodles before shoving them in his mouth. “Shes mad about the car.She’s still in California.”He replied, getting another bite full. 

“At least you dont have to deal with her.”Rafe shrugged, looking for the brightside of things.Topper just hummed, staring into his bowl.None of you spoke after that, eating some ramen but not bothering to put the dishes in the sink. 

“Topper wanted to have a movie night.”Rafe mumbled, glancing over to Topper.You simply nodded, getting up and going into the living room.You curled yourself up into the corner of the couch, a pillow to your chest.

Kelce was on the other end of the couch, Topper on the floor next to him while Rafe sat not too far in front of you, reaching for the remote.Everything just felt so dead.

You wanted to reach out and play with Rafe’s hair or lean against Kelce but you knew not to for the sake of the others.You tried watching the movie, the volume low so that it wouldnt hurt Topper’s head.

It was some sort of dog movie from the early 2000s.Kelce was the first to fall asleep, snoring against the arm rest.Rafe was confused, not understanding what was going on.He was the second to fall asleep, face in the carpet not even half way through the movie. 

“Top, you awake?”You whispered, the movie in a dark scene right now. “Yeah, why?”He asked, looking over in your direction. “I dunno.You wanna talk?”You asked, keeping your voice quiet so you wouldnt bother Rafe or Kelce.Topper hummed, standing up slowly. 

“You wanna go outside?”He asked, already heading for the slider door.You followed him outside, hearing crickets and the sound of you pool.The two of you sat on the pavement by the water, staring at the lit up pool. 

“What do you want to talk about?”He asked, sticking his feet into the water.You just shrugged, not really knowing. “Do you wanna talk about earlier?”You asked, hoping that it wasnt too forward. 

“What about it?”He asked.You sighed, regretting bringing it up again. “I dont know, I just think we left off at a bad note.”You replied, sticking your hand in the water out of curiosity. “Yeah, yeah we did.But its either you love me or you dont, either is fine.”He replied, ignoring the pit in his stomach.

You remained silent, thinking. “Do you think its possible to love more than one person at a time?”You asked.His eyebrows raised at your words, blowing out a puff of air. 

“Well, its possible to hate more than one person at a time.Love and Hate are the same thing in the end.”He answered, kicking his feet back and forth under the surface of the water.

 “What does that mean?”You asked, not used to him saying things like that. “Well think about it.Love is just an extreme like and hate is just an extreme dislike.So if it was in a circle that means that hate and love touch.”He answered, dragging his fingernail against the pavement to make a small circle.

You nodded, flicking his finger. “So you think I can love more than one person at once?”You asked, wanting him to clarify.He nodded slowly. “I mean, you love Bucky and Henry Bowers and Jack Frost.Real people arent that different.We might be less attractive but not that different.”He answered, reaching for your hand. 

“Its okay if you havent figured things out yet, just let me know when you do.”He flashed you a grin that you could tell wasnt genuine. “But you know I love you no matter what, right?Like....even if I dont love you like that I still love you.”You told him, squeezing his hand lightly.

He nodded. “I know, bitch.”He laughed. “The only bitch here is you, bottom.”You replied, hoping he wouldnt push you into the water. “Last time I checked I wasnt a female dog.”He smiled, chuckling when you rolled your eyes. “What are you?12?”You asked.He nodded. “On the inside.”He replied.

Two chapters left-FUCK IM NOT READY

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[letthefrogsbe]

remember when I was gonna write that parkner fic?

cool so I've decided I'm gonna, but because I cannot write for SHIT and I hate my writing every time I see it, ill just share my outline of what I have so far. its not coherent. sorry. 

Section one: aunt may dies. It’ll be like “it's been 3 months. 3 months since May was shot. 2 months and 3 weeks since she died.”

Something like that idc. Basically this section will base around peter living tony, because he’s not doing well, and he is only 17- which is not actually old enough to be on your own after something like this. Setting is established, with cameos from dr strange (who tony is dating and lives with (yeah bite me, this is my fanfiction i can make it what i want.) it will be made obvious that this takes place after endgame, which also means that tony is Not going to die. I’m not that mean lmao. The avengers are like largely together, there was not as much death in this as there was in endgame. Whatever. Everyone is very nice to peter because they know that for him its either this or him becoming a ward of the state so like.

Section two: harley gets kicked out. His mom finds out that he’s gay (from gossip sources idk) and kicks harley out. Im not going to write them having a big fight like in the moment, but harley will recount what happened somewhat to tony in this section, and then more to peter later in the story. Gay ppl trauma dump, we know this. Okay anywaysss so harley calls tony literally sobbing and like freezing fucking cold. IM SORRY IM BEING SO MEAN TO THEM I PROMISE THEY'LL GET A HAPPY ENDING. Okay. harley explains how his mom kicked him out. Tony asks why, harley says something like “she didn’t agree with my lifestyle choices” like bitterly. Tony is a good person in this (i know, im really taking some character liberties) and he’s in the mood for collecting strays apparently, so he has happy send over the quinjet. He can’t make it himself bc hes in fucking japan or something for the next few weeks,, but. Yeah! Tony also calls peter, who is presumably in bed and feeling depressed. “Hey pete. How ya feeling? Any better?’ ‘Not really, tony. Sorry.’ ‘you don’t have to be sorry-’ ‘damn tony you sound like my therapist.’ “sorry pete, but i do have something to tell you- you know harley?’ ‘only from what you’ve told me about him, but yea. He was the tennessee garage kid, right?’ ‘i mean. Yes. so- he’s gonna come stay with me for a while too- it might not be permanent but it will probably be a bit. He’s about your age, and he just has no where to go (just like u). He’s not going to stay in your room or anything, but with bruce and thor here, he will be in your apartment area.’ ‘okay tony.. Will i have to talk to him a bunch?’ ‘not if you don’t want to- i already warned him about you, so it should be okay. I wouldn’t worry so much pete- you guys are so similar in a lot of ways that i wanted to introduce you two long before he called me.’ ‘okay tony, i trust you. Thank you again for letting me stay with you :)’ (yeah that kind of got away from me)

Section 3: build up. this is a shorter section. Harley and peter are gonna meet in section 4. This section is harley’s jet ride (with an intuitive happy) and harley’s nerves about how he really isn’t worth this (i mean hes pretty intimidated tony sent a private jet just for him) and happy like reassures him. Hes still insecure though. Peter is also nervous bc what if harley doesn’t like him? What if he doesn’t like harley?? Tony did say they would get along, but peter hasn’t really been himself recently, so who knows? Yeah lots of that. I do want to emphasize though- peter is not completely unhealthily coping. Like he has a therapist and he has been reaching out to ned and mj, but its still an open wound for him. Obviously. He still has a sense of humor though, but its to cover these deep insecurities. Like the first month or so that he was with tony, he was reallllyyyy trying to not get close to him bc he sort of thinks he kills everyone around him. Like logically he knows this isn’t true, but he does really think the that non superheroes that he surrounds himself with are very at risk if they know about his spider-man-ness. The only people who know now are ned and mj (may knew too).

Section 4: the meeting of harley and peter. Keep in mind peter has been living in this apartment/area of stark tower for about 3 months now. He actually moved in while may was in the hospital because he couldn’t stand to be alone in the apartment when he knew why may wasn’t there. And um. Yeah. so peter is like comfortable in this space, basically. Also- the reason theyre in the same apartment is because stark tower was not really created with the idea of housing broken orphans in mind, so it only has a certain amount of residential space. Thor and bruce are currently staying there together (although no one really knows if theyre together, or if theyre just best bros who went through some extreme trauma together and are now inseparable. Hmmm wonder if thats gonna come up later) and theyre using one apartment, and happy lives there with his own apartment, and tony and stephen are currently sharing the penthouse, even though thats not public knowledge. Really only the people close to tony know that he’s dating stephen. So. this leaves just the one other 2 bedroom apartment for peter and harley. It has one bathroom, and the bedrooms are connected by a door but theyre pretty big so like. Theres a kitchen, a living room with a fancy ass tv, and a really pretty view (with a balcony bc <333). May died in march, peter got leave from the school in april, and it is now the middle of june btw. Tony is now peter’s official guardian (he was before may died anyways) and now has sole guardianship over him which he has fully accepted, even though peter and him both know that there are going to be times where he has to go out of town bc he does own a company after all. Times like right now. Harley is pretty nervous that tony isn’t going to be there to greet him and that he is going to have to like introduce himself to peter and everything. Cmon, theres no reason to feel like that, he’s the one intruding after all, he should at least be able to handle himself. (<--- harley’s thoughts). Yeah so theyre insecure super cool. A n y w a y s so peter was stressing about harley as he arrived, and so when harley walked in they were both complete bundles of nerves. Harley walks up but knocks. Peter actually jumps (bc spidey sense okay whatever) and goes to get the door. Oh my god these awkward teenagers i hate them so much (i love them). Peter kinda looks like shit, sorry king. He was a little bit crying earlier, then tony called and he switched into stressed out ball-of-anxiety mode. Distractions are good, its okay. Peter opens the door for harley and they like introduce each other all awkward (again sorry) and peter shows harley where he is staying. Harley doesnt really have muchhhh bc he was kicked out and all. He just has a suitcase full of clothes, his favorite blanket, his favorite stuffed animal (yeah whatever bc ofc he does) and his phone/charger. He sets all his stuff down at once. He thanks peter for letting him stay in his apartment and also said sorry. First thing peter noticed was harley’s accent. Stfu. peter asks why harley’s here- ok. Harleys had a long ass day. Too fucking long. He- he breaks down. He tells peter a lot. About how his mom found out that he was gay, and how she told him never to come back. Yikes. Anyways, this is establishing the beginning of their relationship as friends. Peter is there for him even though he doesn’t know him at all. Peter sees some of himself in harley in this moment, even though he’s not talking about himself yet. Eventually harley does ask about peter, and they really just get to know each other really quick. They have these deep scarring individual traumas, and neither has nearly recovered, but they find comfort in just knowing that theyre not alone in their suffering. At least for now. At least in this moment.

Section 5: the next day. Peter and harley spent that whole night talking about what they were going through. Peter said good night at around 5 am (there were no adults around they can do what they want to) and they both got good sleeps. In peter’s case, one of the first solid nights he’s had in a while. Harley was kept up a little longer after peter left, however, because he just couldn’t shut off his mind. It was really cathartic for him to just lay everything out there and for someone to just accept him. Peter told him he was bi, but he was.. Lucky. He had accepting people in his life. May was accepting. God, harley couldn’t fathom having lost everyone in his life, everyone he ever cared about, and still having the heart to sit and talk with the dumbass anxious gay kid who can’t go home anymore. His problems felt so small compared to peter’s, and all he could do was admire peter’s resilience and how he was seemingly able to bounce back from anything. God, peter was something. He couldn’t wait to get to know him more. With that thought circling in his head, he finally went to sleep at oh shit 6:30 am. Peter woke up around 1. Harley at 2. When harley woke up, peter was watching tv and eating cereal on the couch and he just sat down next to him. No words, just sleepy children being sleepy. They stayed like this for like an hour when someone knocked on their door. Enter stephen strange!!!!!!!!!!! Get excited people. Hes just coming in to check on them bc tony told him to, and he didn’t get the chance last night bc he was _busy_. K so now he’s here and hes awkward and he just wants to make sure these boys r okay bc theyve both been through too much recently, and it would be just the cherry on top if they didn’t get along. Him and harley had never actually met before so he like introduced himself and all that. Offered like if they needed anything he was there, and its only gonna be a few days until tony gets back (did i say a week earlier? Im retconning that bc i cannot find it in my writing so it is now retconned). Peter and harley just have to sort of explain to dr strange that theyre getting along gREAT and there is no need for concern….. And peter was even thinking about showing harley around the city a bit that night (something he had not yet told harley, but wanted to make it seem like he was doing well and not acting too depressed in front of Dr. Strange) so dr strange is like yeah !!!!!! do that, that sounds super fun petey !!!!!! and so now they have evening plans

ok ps I wrote this like 2 weeks ago and completely forgot I posted something on Tumblr about this fic idea, and so this is literally just how I talk to myself. was not gonna ever post this but then I decided to because I'm bored. there are more sections but I'm not gonna post them rn because this post is really fucking long already!!!!

[masterjedilenawrites]

Blueberries and Cowboys: Chapter 1

A choose-your-own-adventure style fic. First, 2 platonic chapters for set-up/build-up. And then, the story will split into 2 paths depending on your romantic pairing preference: You and Thrawn, or You and Eli.

Set Up: You are an outcast at the Imperial Academy, which means your only options for friends are the tall and stoic Chiss Mitth'raw'nuruodo and his translator from Wild Space Eli Vanto. The three of you get along, for the most part... Thrawn is obsessed with acing all the exams, Eli is desperate to show up his classmates, and you... well, you just want to feel like you belong somewhere. And hiding beneath it all are your unspoken feelings, longing to be realized, but fearful of ruining the balance of your trio's friendship....

Chapter Masterlist

Chapter 1: The Problem

Pairing: None yet, just a nice friendship trio

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of bullying

Length: 2k

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

You wound down the hallways of the building with a scowl on your face. You would never grow used to this ridiculously long walk, from your first class of the day to the next, so conveniently located on complete opposite sides of the facility. Whoever had designed your schedule this year was either an utter imbecile or had done so on purpose, just to tick you off. At this point in your education here at the Imperial Academy, you knew either scenario was equally likely. You weren't exactly liked by the staff or your peers, and there were plenty of idiots to go around.

The one saving grace of your journey was that you would eventually cross paths with the only two friends you had managed to make in this elitist hell-hole: Eli Vanto and Mitth'raw'nuruodo.

Eli would be the first, his class letting out just a few corridors away from yours. He was leaning against an alcove in the wall just out of the way of passing traffic, his usual spot. When you rounded the corner, he pushed off and fell into step beside you.

"What happened?" you asked, having noticed he was scowling as well. His resting face usually made him look like a sad puppy, so for him to have such a prominent frown this early in the morning, something really upsetting must have happened.

"Lost the debate," he grumbled.

Ah, you'd forgotten he had that today. You and Thrawn had helped him practice for weeks, covering every possible argument and rebuttal from his opponent on the assigned topic. He had it in the bag, or so you'd all thought.

"What? How? Don't tell me you got stage-fright."

He glared over at you. "No, I wasn't nervous or anything. I did everything perfect. But all Arden had to do was throw in a few snide remarks about my accent and that got the whole class turned in his favor."

Eli started biting down on one of his nails in frustration. You frowned along with him. That was a variable none of you had accounted for while practicing.

"Is Arden the pimply-faced guy?"

"Yeah."

"Hate him," you muttered.

"Yeah."

The two of you paused at the doors of a lift, waiting for the previous occupants to exit before filing in yourselves and punching the button for the next level up. Eli was still chewing on his nails.

"Stop," you exclaimed, swatting his hand away from his mouth. "I told you that's a bad habit."

"Oh yeah, what's this then?" He grabbed one of your hands and twisted it around so you could see the splotches of chipped polish on your nails.

You jerked your hand away and held it defensively against your chest. "There's only so much I can do with this insane caseload, okay? I haven't had time to think about my nails."

"Then why'd you paint 'em in the first place?" he said with a bit of a laugh. Well, at least his mood was improving, even if it was at your expense. 

You swatted at him just as the lift doors opened. "Maybe I want to try feeling pretty sometimes, not like some zombie student."

You both were keenly aware that the cadets waiting to board the lift had backed up significantly as you passed, despite not having been in your way at all. They were all whispering too, and by the tone, it was probably not about very nice things. It was always like that, wherever you went. Even if they didn't know your reputations of being from wild, "backwater" planets, they need only hear one of you speak to know you were different. And in these Core worlds, different was inferior.

"You know you don't have to follow our course map, right?" Eli spoke up again, once you'd put some distance between the lift of sneering cadets. "Me, I don't have a choice. Thrawn's determined to graduate in as little time as possible, and I'm the sorry sucker who has to follow 'im. I'd run far away from the guy if I were you. Enjoy your freedom."

Eli complained about the last member of your trio, Thrawn, at least six times a day. And half of those complaints ended with him telling you to make a break for it. You knew he didn't mean any of it; the two of you had spent the last holiday break at a bar, and in his drunkenness, Eli had confessed to being secretly grateful for having met the Chiss. He only complained to cope with the stress.

And you... well, you weren't really sure why they let you hang around. They'd both easily become your closest friends, but you weren't always sure where you stood with them. Maybe they did like your company. Or maybe they just felt sorry for you. They were both friendly enough, allowing you to join them on Thrawn's "fast track" out of the Academy. But you had a feeling that as soon as you all graduated, they'd leave you behind and move on to whatever mission the Emperor had planned for Thrawn in the Navy.

You tried not to think about it too much.

Speaking of your friend, Mitth'raw'nuruodo emerged from a classroom doorway just a few paces ahead. Right on time, as always. His specialized "tactical statistics" class ended several minutes ago, but he had learned to carefully time your path so he wouldn't have to stand awkwardly in the hall waiting. It was for the best; you and Eli may sometimes draw unwanted attention, but poor Thrawn always stood out like a very big, very blue sore thumb.

"We have a problem," he stated, coming up on your other side. You never had to ask Thrawn what was wrong; if he had a problem worth sharing, you would hear about it.

"Hallway problem or 'fresher problem?" asked Eli.

You'd all agreed long ago there were some topics of conversation best had out of earshot from any passerby. And since most scurried out of the refresher whenever Thrawn went in, that became the only suitable place for such conversations, if it couldn't wait until your dorms at the end of the day.

"Refresher," Thrawn said. He looked down at you. "You'll be late for your class."

You shrugged. "If it's important...."

"It is."

You trusted him; he wasn't the type to make up drama or blow things out of proportion. The three of you picked up the pace, turning right instead of the usual left, and slipping into the men's bathroom. Thankfully it was already empty. Eli turned the lock just in case.

Thrawn wasted no time diving into the particulars. "I have come to learn our flight instructor, Commander Burdick, intends to sabotage my simulation tests next month. He is acquainted with Admissions Supervisor Aberdeen and understands that a failing mark will require a remedial course before being allowed back into the program. This would set my graduation back several months."

That was a problem. The flight course was one of the longer ones, and mandatory, and you were all so close to finally being through with it. Just one more round of simulation tests and then an actual flight around Coruscant.

Eli was groaning by the door. "You've gotta be kidding."

"I am not," said Thrawn in a measured voice. He knew it was just an expression, but you knew it was one of his pet peeves.

Eli wasn't listening, instead kicking at the tiled floor and mumbling about how this was so typical and why can't we just be left alone.

You turned to Thrawn. "Just you?"

"The ill will seems to be mostly directed toward me. Supervisor Aberdeen does not appreciate the special provisions that have been afforded me on behalf of the Emperor, and has coerced Commander Burdick to indulge in his spitefulness. However, I would not put it past them to also have plans for either of you, as well. They are aware of our... connection."

You were certain he was about to say friendship but changed his mind. Did he not know the word for it? Was he too embarrassed to admit it? Or did he truly not see you or Eli as anything more than connections?

"Okay, but..." Eli was still processing things. "How? What's their plan?"

"I purposefully said the Commander intended to sabotage the tests. He does not yet have a plan."

"So... we stop 'im," said Eli.

"Or," you countered, a mischievous smirk playing about your lips. "We don't."

Eli merely blinked at you, but Thrawn was very interested. "Go on," he encouraged.

"If we learn what the plan is, or maybe even give him a plan of our own, then we can let it play out and ensure he gets in trouble for it."

Thrawn rubbed his chin as he considered. You knew he'd soon slip into his usual routine of pacing and muttering in unknown languages, which could take a while and make you even later for your class. You cleared your throat, drawing his two red eyes back to yours.

"Surely a Commanding Officer wouldn't dare do anything to sabotage you directly," you offered. "He'll either look for some help or pin it on someone else, in case there's an investigation."

Thrawn rubbed his chin again. "You think we should influence the Commander on who to pick to be his... what do you call it, ensipki?"

"Scapegoat," Eli said quickly. It was becoming second nature for him to translate what was left of the holes in Thrawn's understanding of Basic.

"Right, and then we can expose the deception just before the tests," you said. "Before there's time to come up with another plan."

Thrawn's eyes narrowed in thought. "A decent idea, but it would require the education of one of our fellow cadets to be jeopardized. It should not be our first plan."

"But if he's going to use one of them anyway..." you started to protest.

"Then we should seek to expose his connection to that person as well. This is an instructor who is not serving the best interest of several of his students. He should be the only one blamed."

You weren't going to let his logic win this time. As far as you could tell, this was a perfect opportunity to get revenge on your obnoxious classmates. "It's going to be a lot easier to take issue up with the Board against a student than an instructor. We can try to expose both people, but if we can't, then at least we can nail one of them. It's called a scapegoat for a reason."

Eli spoke up before Thrawn could respond, throwing you a meaningful look. "Arden's in his class. Different time, same instructor."

"Who is this Arden?" asked Thrawn.

"The racist asshole who unfairly stole Eli's grade on the debate today," you said. You'd picked your words deliberately, and it did the trick.

"Very well. We have our scapegoat," said Thrawn.

You winked at Eli and he hid a smile.

"So," Thrawn continued, fully invested now. "We will need to push Arden toward the Commander as a viable accomplice. We will need to gain insight into the details of their plan. And then we will need to ensure those details are brought to light at the right moment."

The three of you looked among each other. This was probably the tenth plan this year alone that you'd all devised to take care of some kind of "problem." Just last week Thrawn  had discovered misinformation in one of your textbooks that took the three of you on a field trip to the lower levels of Coruscant to find a con-artist who'd sold a quarter-hundred counterfeit materials to the Academy library. You'd only had the weekend to catch up on all the rest of your homework, and here you all were again, ready to jump into another scheme.

You had suggested the idea, so you were already grinning and ready to go. Thrawn had just put together a to-do list, and you could almost see the gears in his head continuing to spin as he determined more points to the plan.

The deciding vote was Eli. Though he often complained about not having a choice, you and Thrawn rarely forced him to do anything and were always respectful if he had a differing opinion. This time, you had a feeling he'd be on board.

He set his hands on his hips and smirked. "Disgracing a shitty classmate and a shitty teacher in order to save our grades? Let's do it."

Next Chapter: The Plan >

[bubblegum-writes]

quid pro quo

request:  Hello!! I was thinking if you could write something with Katsuki where his s/o is a healer / booster for him and his quirk - basically her healing and quirk boosting abilities work best with quirks that are associated with warm temperatures, she can boost his damage by 75% - in short he has to look after her and stuff because when she boosts his powers she gets weak and so after fights they snuggle with each-other in his dorm 🥺💗 sorry if this is too specific 🥺

A/N: IM SO SORYR LORD HAVE MERCY THIS IS LATE BUT LIFE IS SHIT YA KNOW!!!!! also dont u worry ur pretty little head no need to be sorry! im tryna explore new ways of storytelling so i apologize if this is shit lol. also the italics are gonna be semi-flashback things if that makes sense. AGAAAIIN bnha and katsuki bakugou aren’t mine so copyright go and eat my entire asshole lol. also this aint edited at allllll lol

       For having a quirk that works best with quirks that raise the surrounding temperature or warm temperatures in general, Japan wasn’t the best place for whatever god to put you at when you were born. The temperature could get decently hot during summer, that is true, but the winters can be equally, if not more, brutal. Not only did it affect your quirk, but your entire mood and aura. During these colder months, your classmates felt both the cold winter winds and your sour mood. No matter how hard they tried to cheer you up, they couldn’t help that your body simply wasn’t made for the cold.

      “C’mon, let’s go out and have a snowball fight!” Denki had suggested from his spot on the common room couch. Classes were over for the week and plenty of snow had fallen on the ground for there to be ample fun to be had within it. Mina, Sero,  and Kirishima all hollered in excitement, while the rest of those present either hummed in agreement or moaned in annoyed interest. You, however, didn’t say or even acknowledge the blonde’s suggestion, as you were too busy lying on the floor wrapped in a blanket with multiple heating pads on you. 

      “What about (Y/N)? We don’t want to exclude anyone due to health or quirk conditions!” Tenya nearly shouted as he lectured everyone about the importance of ‘never leaving a man behind’. You briefly smiled and thanked the universe for making Iida so considerate (and even more briefly entertained the idea of going out). You turned yourself and all the blankets around you towards the rest of the group and smiled slightly. It wasn’t lost on anyone that the cold was never kind to you, so they all started coming up with ways for you to enjoy the fun they had planned.

      “We could tape the blanket around you!” Said Tsuyu, pointing to a blushing Sero’s elbows.

      “No, we could get one of those hamster balls, heat it up, and put you in!” Izuku proposed.

      “You stupid fucking extras, I have the best idea,” came a voice that had yet to speak during the whole ordeal. Katsuki was leaning back in one of the couches, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. Everyone turned silent as they looked towards the explosive man, even you raised your head from the ground to lend your ear to what he had to say. You had yet to notice that he had joined everyone in the common room, assuming he went to workout earlier. “(Y/N), you come out with us and have a good time,” his lips slowly turned into a light-hearted smirk, “Afterwards, I’ll take you to your favorite ramen shop to warm up.”

      Immediately, the room erupted in noises of confusion and elation. Confusion due to the fact that no one else was aware of yours and Katsuki’s certain… relationship and elation due to the fact that everyone could finally go out and play. What you and Katsuki had was a cute relationship, born out of necessity but had grown into something more. He knew that you despised the cold, and that your quirk didn’t work well in it either. He found this out when you two had been partnered one day in a tag-team sparring exercise.

      “Alright, (Y/N) and Bakugou, you guys are going against…” You didn’t bother paying attention to who you were going to battle; all you could focus on was the fact you had been paired with Katuski, your well-kept secret of a crush. You felt your body flush with heat as you searched the training grounds for him. You eventually found him with his eyes already burrowing into yours. You saw the fire within his eyes to be one of anger or maybe even hatred, but you couldn’t have been farther from the truth. You had also caught his eye; sure, you weren’t the most powerful person in the class, but your quirk had the ability to boost those that were at work around you. On top of that, you could also use the same quirk to heal those around you, at the cost of expending your energy and use it to restore another person’s body.

      “Oi, (Y/N), get your ass over here!” Katsuki yelled from across the small area as he waved you over. Shaking your head out of your haze, you jogged over to him with a nearly unnoticeable shyness on your face. “So, I have a strategy and you’d better listen to it!” Katsuki nearly spat in your face. You winced, but during the whole time he was talking, you had to focus everything you had on what he was actually saying, and not on his beautiful red eyes, or his soft-looking hair, or his toned muscles, or his plump li-

      “Did you get all of that?” He taunted with one perfect eyebrow raised. Despite your best efforts, you'd had completely and utterly failed to pay attention to his strategy.

      “Uh, could you give me the short version of it again?” You shyly asked, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

      “Fine! Long story short, you stay behind me and make sure I don’t get too hurt and I’ll make sure they don’t touch you.” Katsuki started the sentence with a snarl, but by the end, his face had relaxed and his eyes almost held a tenderness to them. You told yourself you were seeing things as you peered into his eyes and just quickly nodded your head. The both of you took your spots on the field, and without noticing one another, you both were glancing out of your peripherals to make sure the other was okay. 

      This was also when you noticed your opponents for this fight.

      “Oh no,” you whispered under your breath. You and Katsuki were up against Shouto and Mina. You weren’t too worried about Mina and her quirk; as long as you could avoid her streams of acid, you were in the clear. Shouto, on the other hand, would be difficult for you to overpower or even avoid. If he hit you with his ice quirk just once, you were almost guaranteed to be done for, for at least the next couple hours. There was fear clearly written on your face as you noticed Shouto, and Katsuki didn’t ignore it. He knew the basics of your quirks and that the cold would inhibit you, and sometimes even harm you far more than a regular person.

      “I need to keep (Y/N) safe,” Katsuki thought as Aizawa started the sparring fight. Part of his mind told him that he thought that because if she went down, most likely, so did he. However, the majority of his conscience told him he thought that for far more romantic and loving reasons.

      “C’mon you fucking extras!” Katsuki yelled and teased as he blasted himself high in the sky, making sure you were moving far away from your guys’ opponents. He focused on Shouto and Mina and tried to decipher what their strategy was. Mina started excreting acid from her body as Shouto started to use his ice quirk to quickly strike you down. You were running as fast as you could from both of them to try to gain as much distance as you could before Katsuki could blow them to smithereens. However, that didn’t quite happen. Shouto had absolutely no ill feelings towards you, but this was a battle he planned on winning. Both he and Mina used as much power as they could muster to ensure that you were out of the fight so they could focus on Katsuki. However, Katsuki realized this too little too late. They would take you down, then focus on him

      “(Y/N)! Watch it!” Katsuki yelled as he lowered himself to the ground close to Shouto and Mina. Despite the short distance between Katsuki and the opposing team, they still focused on you. You only turned around in time to see Shouto’s ice start nearly grasping your feet and ankles; you ran even harder as you nearly hyperventilated trying to run away from him. Katsuki saw the absolute horror in your eyes, and launched himself to stand between you and Shouto and Mina.

      Despite all he had given, he was too late.

      Right after you turned around for the second time, you saw and felt the ice start to curl around your feet. A harsh scream left your lips, which made even Aizawa cringe and almost call off the whole battle. Mina had long stopped her acid attacks to ensure you weren’t hurt by her quirk, but she watched in horror as Shouto slowly encompassed you in ice. Your body convulsed in an almost demonic way, your feet facing outwards as you bent at the waist as the ice crept upwards. Your screams only increased in both volume and levels of anguish as tears started leaving your eyes. You turned towards Shouto to start pleading for him to stop, but he did as soon as he saw your red and teary eyes. The ice had reached your chest at this point and your arms were held by your sides. The pain you felt was extraordinary; your body felt as if it were cracking in every joint and bone it had. The pain was so horrible that as soon as you closed your eyes to blink away the tears, you had no choice but to finally pass out from the pain. 

      “(Y/N)!” Both Mina and Shouto yelled as your head went lip as your body was encased in ice. Shouto ran up to start thawing you, but Katsuki quickly landed and kicked him out of the way.

      “Get out of the way, fucking Half-n-Half!” He snarled at the Todoroki boy. Katsuki gave him one of the most evil looks he could muster before he turned around and put his hands on the ice around you. Hehastily went to work to get you out of the ice as Aizawa started walking (albeit quickly, as he was concerned for his students’ wellbeings) towards you all. The ice quickly melted before the teacher could get to the scene, and before Aizawa could put a word in, Katsuki declared, “I’m taking (Y/N) to Recovery Girl!”

      Before Aizawa or even Shouto or Mina could mouth their opinions, Katuski had melted your body from the ice, picked you up bridal-style, and started sprinting towards the nurses’ office. You were barely holding on to consciousness, but the last thing you saw was Katsuki’s face as he ran to get you help.

      After that terrifying incident, when Katsuki refused to leave your side even after Recovery Girl had given you the all-clear, it became clear to you and most of the class that there was something more to your guys’ relationship than classmates. No one would dare to comment on it for fear of being the object of Katsuki’s anger. Which led to this moment, where the class was gearing up to play in the snow with everyone stealing glances at Katsuki helping you into your snowgear. No one had ever seen him so gentle and the look of pure adoration in his eyes was hard to miss. 

      As soon as everyone was thick with layers and looked like plush, colored marshmallows, the class ran from the common room to the outside where the fluffy white flakes had created a plush playground for them. Small cheers and whoops erupted as everyone went their separate ways, with Momo and Ochako starting to build a snowman with Mezo using his multiple hands to grab as much snow as possible to add to the growing pile. Denki and Eijiro had started a snowball fight between them and Shouto and Izuku, and Fumikage and Toru had started building an igloo. 

      You, however, were shivering out of your socks. You and Katsuki had barely made it out of the doors before you stopped in your tracks.

      “Tch, come on, have some fun with these losers,”  Katsuki murmured in your ear, causing shivers to run up your spine, “and I’ll let you be the big spoon for once.”

      You immediately ran to join the nearest group of classmates faster than you could say, “Really?” Throughout the day, you spent quality time with most everyone in the class. Truth be told, they were happy to see you come out of your comfort zone and actually enjoy all the weather had to offer. You even forgot why you were out in the cold in the first place, you were having so much fun! However, as the sun flew threw the sky and evening became night, everyone finally tuckered out and retired back to the dorms. As everyone else went to their respective rooms, you and Katsuki gathered in his.

      He knew that spending time in the cold would make you tired and possibly even sore because of your quirk, but he always remembered how to make you feel better again. Usually, it was a bath that he had prepared, scorching hot with a bath bomb or two, take-out, and whatever was on Netflix that fit the mood. Today was no different; as you warmed up and chilled out in the bath, Katsuki called your favorite ramen shop and ordered your favorite item for delivery. After a while, you came out of the bathroom with your pajamas on and a face mask upon your face. He smiled, a smile only reserved for you, a soft and gentle smile he was, quite frankly, scared to show anyone else. You scuffled over to his bed and joined him under his blankets, and quickly wrapped yourself in his arms. Artificial heat didn’t compare to heat produced by a human, especially that of Katsuki. Quickly forgetting both the incoming ramen and your face mask, you fell asleep in his arms as he traced meaningless patterns over your back and scratched your scalp gently. Well, they might have been meaningless to you, but he was consciously drew the characters for “I love you” deep in your skin, just in case you would ever forget.