#in fairness you mentally checked out of that relationship ages ago

[shotmrmiller]

oh to be at some rugby game with your boyfriend who's a total fan, face painted and all, and he squeezes you into a jersey of some player you don't care to know, couldn't even find his number on the field because they're all just slamming themselves into each other with enough force to cause brain damage but then a big man with the number you've got on your front eventually comes up to the stands and your bf's losing it because finally, here comes his #1 player but his eyes are on you, and you alone.

he blows you off when you tell him that actually, you don't know who he is, you're just here because your bf is.

"don't care. you've my name on your back."

(fisting your jersey he tosses you to the guy below, who had been standing there with his arms stretched above him as if expectant. "ya can wear mine next week.")

[taffycandyqt]

Please No

You can't sleep and seek company in your misery through your best friend. However he's not at home.

Masterlist

Request Rules

OH MY GOSH IM NOT DEAD! In all honesty I haven't been super motivated lately but I started this personal project a LOOOOOOONG time ago and felt I couldn't move on to other requests before I finished it. When I started this I felt really inspired to make it solely because I feel there is simply not enough Donatello fluff in this world, especially in 03' and 12' s case. So I hope you like it!

2012 Donnie x reader

Aged up, all characters are college/older adult age, depends on how you want to read it.

Fluff, slightly angst if you really want it to be there

Fem reader

Sleeping was always a struggle for you. Logically you knew you needed sleep, physically you felt tired, but mentally you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. Your body hated the idea and actually laying down and sleeping, so you went to the only person you KNEW would be up right now.

Casey Jones.

He was annoying when you first met him be he was chill enough that he grew on you pretty quickly. Not to mention that if it weren't for him you wouldn't have met your now boyfriend. You always enjoyed spending time with Donnie but trying to pin him down was hard especially since you didn't know where he lived. He didn't want you to meet his brothers just yet, says he wants time to adjust to your guys relationship before being teased. Which, fair. SO! To Casey's you went. You two usually met up at grueling times of the night so it was customary to clime up each other's fire escapes and practically break into the other person's house. You'd either scare each other awake or find the other sitting in their kitchen shoveling cereal into their mouth watching conspiracies on YouTube.

Tonight though, nothing. Like the dude up and vanished. You checked the kitchen and his room. You even went as far as to check the bathroom. THAT WAS HIS WHOLE APARTMENT! Did he have just as an abhorrent sleep schedule as you? Yes, but he never left the house to make it a strangers problem. So to ease your nerves you decided to call him, if that doesn't work, your gonna pray Donnie is awake enough to answer the phone.

One ring. Two ring. Third ring...

"This is THE Casey Jones." You breathed out a sigh of relief. He isn't kidnapped, dead, or lying in a ditch high of weed somewhere.

"Hey man, just dropped by your place, where you at?"

"Oooooh, one of those nights huh?"

"Isn't it always?"

"heh, I feel ya. Here I'll text you my location so we can chill." after that you heard talking from the other side of the phone. Someone that wasn't Casey. But before you could ask any questions Casey quickly responded to whatever it was that they said.

"SHUT UP! ILL KICK YOUR BUTT INTO NEXT WEEK, BUD!" ending with extra sass on the 'bud'.

That's when you got his text. Perfect!

---

Orrrr not. You swear you followed the directions exactly, so why are you standing in the middle of an alleyway being told to go forward when THERE IS NO FORWARD! Being the reasonable person you are you blamed it all on Casey and let him know of your little predicament.

And, 'wait there, just a sec was his reply.' You didn't think Casey would be the kind of person to plot someone else's demise. Not that he he hasn't caused someone else's demise, he just doesn't have the forethought to think ahead about it. However this whole, standing in an alley in New York at 2 am alone, is really starting to feel like a plot.

Once again, your nerves started rising. You looked around the old bricks, worn with water damage and scraping and covered in graffiti. The dark distorted your surroundings making it unclear if you were really alone in that alley or not. The stench of the trash bags shoved as close to the corners and walls as possible started to get to you. Your breathing got a little heavier. The ominous lighting from the street lamp didn't help either. Then a sound rose above the scampering feet of rats. You turn to see the man hole cover slowly scrap along the concrete as a large gloved hand shoved it away. The darkness of the alley clouded the figure and with the covering gone the hole left seemed like a endless pool of inky nothingness. You were stiff as a board and you could hear your heart thrashing in your ears. This is it. This is where you die and it's all Casey Jones's fault.

"Hey you did make it! Nice!"

Your threw a scrapped can square at his face.

"Ow!"

"CASEY! YOU SCARED ME!"

"Yo chill! I told you I was coming to get you!"

"YOU TOLD ME TO WAIT, I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT THE FRICK YOU WERE DOING! GOSH CASEY! WHAT WERE YOU EVEN DOING DOWN THERE!?"

"Hehe, come on. I'll show you," he winked at you before gesturing you to enter into the manhole first.

"No."

"Oh come on! Don't you trust me?"

"NO! Also gross. I'm not going down there just for the heck of it Casey. I have never been curious what New Yorks sewer system looks like."

"It's not about the sewers! We just have to walk through the system to get to the place," he told you mildly annoyed.

"And your purposely being suspicious about 'the place', because?"

"Because that's a surprise,"

"Oh joy. I just love surprises at 2 in the freaking morning, in the sewers, wearing my pajamas," you snarked as you lowered yourself down the manhole scowling slightly.

Casey led you through the sewers keeping a brisk pace. You asked him about the voice you hear over the phone earlier and all he told you was that it was part of the surprise. To which you rolled your eyes.

"You seem pretty confident on where your walking," you remarked.

"Well I sure hope so!" he laughed to himself, "I've only been coming here since highschool."

Him saying that struck a possible idea of what his "surprise" could be. But you couldn't be sure.

You initially met Casey in college. Not that he went to collage, he just crashed a class that you shared with his friend. He called her red, talked about her a lot too. You didn't really know her outside of that one class. It felt strange to know so many details about someone you've never talked to. He did mention that she was Donnies first crush but Donnie never talked about her though so you didn't really care much for that detail.

You knew that Casey had known Donnie, his brothers, and "red" since high school. He told you about their adventures all the time. Sometimes it made you feel a little disconnected, especially since the only people you ever knew from the group were Donnie and Casey. But you tried not to let that feeling get to you. It would simply take time. Besides, even if you're newer and don't know the whole group, neither Donnie or Casey ever made you feel like you weren't a part.

The thing is though, is that Casey only mentioned highschool when talking about the turtles. So while it is a loose assumption, you had an idea of what he might be planning. Part of you really hoped it wasn't what you were thinking. The other part really REALLY wanted it to be what you thought. But the majority part was to tired to care and just wanted something to do.

After a short walk you noticed the sewer transition into an abandoned subway station. That's when you heard the sounds of videogames and people. The smell of pizza lingered in the air the closer you walked to the sound. Eventually you got to the part of the station where lights lit up the dark space.

When you got to the entrance, you saw two turtles playing videogames. Pizza boxes littered the floor, some of them containing pizza, some completely empty. You were a little stunned honestly. Donnie had a genuine reason for not introducing you to his family, you didn't want to cross that line. But at the same time, you really needed a brain rotting distraction. You hesitated. But when Casey gestured you to go first through the turnstile first, that hesitation crumbled. You just wanted some pizza, was that so wrong? I mean you were already here, might as well just commit. You and Casey passed through and neither of the brothers tired to look at you. The one in red acknowledge the sound by saying,

"Welcome back Case."

"What didja need to do that you left so fast brah?" Asked the orange one.

"My best bud needed A.M. pizza, so I figured here would be the best place for her to get some," Casey told them patting your back before taking his seat next to the orange brother and picking up an abandoned controller. You followed, feeling out of place, you sat beside him.

This got reds attention.

"I'm sorry, she?" He paused the game to look over at you.

"WHAT?! CASEY WHO THE HECK IS SHE?? YOU CAN'T JUST BRING RANDOM PEOPLE DOWN HERE!"

"Dude chill out! First of all, shes not random, she's y/n," reds eye twitched, "Secondly, it's no biggie, she already knows Donnie, she's no snitch."

You smacked Casey's arm and shook your head.

"Hey! your already here aren't you?" he whined at you.

"Wait, how do you already know Donnie?" orange finally spoke up.

"Yeah, who are you anyways?" red questioned you.

"I-um. Hi, I'm y/n" you stiffly introduced.

You felt very awkward about this whole situation.

"And you know Don, how?" red reiterated impatiently.

You decided to play dumb.

"What do you mean?"

"How do you know Donnie?! Oh my gosh are you dumb?!"

"No, I get what you asked, but in what way?"

"THE FRICK DO YOU MEAN 'IN WHAT WAY?' HOW DO YOU KNOW MY BROTHER?!"

You both went back and forth like that for a while. Little did you know that this was Casey's plan all along. He had talked to Donnie about introducing you the family but he always said it "wasn't the right time". You and Donnie had been dating for almost a year now and had known each other even longer. Yet his brothers had yet to know you even existed! Knowing you, you wouldn't push the issue because you didn't want to pressure your poor boyfriend. You were under the false pretence that he would come around eventually. The truth is, he wouldn't. And it wasn't because of his brothers teasing.

They would still tease him yes, but they've grown, they know the line. The real reason Donnie hadn't introduced you was because one; he wanted you to himself. And two, the biggest reason; he was embarrassed of where he lived. Yes his home was cleanly and all but it was still a sewer. It had taken a long time for him to begin to believe that you actually thought he was attractive and not some kind of monster. Living in the sewer though? What if that breaks your entire image of him? What if you think he really is some slimy gross sewer monster after? He couldn't bear the thought. After being with you for so long, he doesn't think he could live without you.

It took a lot of nagging but when Casey finally broke him and that was the explanation he gave? Casey was so done. So he took matters into his own hands. He waited for the opportunity to present itself and tonight was the night.

"Dudes!" orange interjected, "Chillll. Ever consider that maybe she won't say cuz we haven't introduced ourselves yet?? Hmmmmmmmmm?"

He chewed red out. Red just scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Hi, I'm Mikey, and that grump is Raph," he told you, "He's been awake too long, he gets fussy without his nap."

You giggled at this, but before you could say anything back Raph had tackled Mikey to the floor. As they rustled you made a small laugh.

"What is going on in here so late?" you heard someone say from behind you. You turned to where it was coming from and saw the third brother you had yet to meet. Blue.

Before he could say anything to Raph or Mikey though, he made eye contact with you.

"Who are you?"

"This is my best bud y/n. Y/n, the fearless leader Leo," Casey introduced.

"Don't call me that Casey," he told him sternly. He walked over to you guys and took a seat in the other side of you.

"You know Case, if I wasn't half asleep I'd be way more upset about you bringing a stranger to the lair."

"She's not a stranger though, she's known Donnie for a while now. Besides we already got yelled at enough by Raph," Casey told him.

He humm and nodded in a 'that makes sense type' of way.

"So you've know Donnie for a while?" he asked.

You felt like could tell Leo just as much as you could tell Raph. Which was nothing. But you felt like Leo would be more receptive to a reasonable answer then Raph was.

"I'd tell you, but I'm not at liberty to say right now," you said.

"That's not suspicious at all," he teased.

"Hey!" you laughed at him and he laughed back.

Casey elbowed you and smiled proudly. He acted like he deserved a thank you for introducing you to your boyfriends family behind his back. All you did was elbow him in the ribs. That was he really deserved. You would be lying though if you said it wasn't an oddly fun situation.

That's when Raph had pinned Mikey and he started screaming.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY? I COULDN'T HEAR YOUR BEFORE?!" Raph yelled at him with this hands pushing Mikey's head to the floor.

"AAAAAAAAA!!" was all Mikey said him response.

Leo sighed next to you, "I guess I'll be taking care of that."

Before he could make a move though, you heard a familiar voice.

"What is going on out here?! I can't work with all this RACKET!" Donnie grumply shouted.

He stopped right in his tracks when he saw you though.

The only time you had seen Donnie that worked up was when an experiment failed or his brothers got on his nerves. Even then though, it was just venting after the fact, so you never witnessed the brunt of his frustrations. Safe to say you were a little startled, not put off or anything, just surprised mostly.

"Y- y- y- y Y/N?! What in Earth are you doing here?? At this hour? Here? I- ??" he was completely flabbergasted and udderly mortified.

He looked a mess, bags under his eyes, mask lazily pushed above his eyes, and not to mention yelling like an angry old man! Oh nononono. It was bad enough you were in his sewer home, there's no way you don't think his a monster now!

"Would you look at that, guess you did know Don after all," Raph said, head in hand while an elbow laid on Mikey's head.

You turned back to Raph, "Why would I lie about that?!"

This boy was unbelievable.

"Raph get off Mikey," Leo told him.

"Not until he says it!"

"Really Raph? I though you stopped doing that when we were teens."

Deciding that you needn't be involved in that conversation, you turned back to Donnie who had a horrified expression on his face.

"H- how long have you been down here?" he asked quietly.

"Not super long, Casey and I only got here like, a few minutes ago," you answered him.

Donnie took a deep breath, he looked like he was about to loose it. You didn't blame him honestly.

"You. Brought. Her. Here?!" he asked Casey. Clearly hanging by the thread of his last nerve.

"Yeah, s'not like you ever would have, so I took matters into my own hands. Besides she's my friend just as much as she's your girlfriend, I have a right to introduce her to my closest buds."

"Wait. Did you just say, girlfriend?" Mikey asked. Leo was helping him off the floor with a displeased Raph standing to the side. They all froze after Casey's statement and started at you and Donnie with wide eyes.

"JONES!" you both yelled at him in unison.

"What? They were gonna haft'a know eventually, I just got the awkward part out of the way for you," he shrugged and winked at you both.

You were gonna kill him. And by the looks of it Donnie and you were on the same page.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and let out a sigh.

"Okay, I think Donnie and I need to have a private conversation. When we're done we'll clear everything up with you all. Okay?"

"That sounds good," Leo nodded while everyone else complained.

You turned to Donnie signaling to lead the way to wherever you two could have some alone time. He seemed nervous and jittery, but led you none the less. He let you in first through a big sliding door that opened up into what seemed to be a garage. It had tables with tools and other electronic equipment strewn around. There were chemistry supplies as well along with some posters in the walls.

"So," Donnie started, fixing his gaze on the floor, "you wanted to talk?" He adjusted his mask to fit back over his eyes.

"Uh, yeah," you answered. Why was the air so thick all of a sudden? Donnie was so closed in on himself it was almost like he was afraid of you. Honestly, you wanted to ask him why Casey said he would never take you down here. But now wasn't the time for that.

"What do you want to do now? I know you wanted to introduce me on your own terms but now that that's not really a possibility. So where do you wanna go from here?" You asked.

You figured it would best to have a game plan before explaining everything to his brothers.

"I understan- Wait what?" He looked at you confused.

"Uuhhh, where do you want to go from here? Ya know, now that your brothers know?" You repeated yourself. Now you were confused.

"I. Wha. That's all you have to say?" Donnie said mouth agape, shocked.

"What? I mean, about this situation yeah? I mean, I am curious why Casey felt the need to do this but that's not really my first priority right now. Am- am I missing something here?" You asked him.

"I- I thought... I live in a sewer," he told you.

"You thought you lived in a sewer?" Your confusion increasing, "Like. You didn't know?"

"No! I know that! I just... you don't care?"

"Why would I care? I'm sorry," you put a hand to your forehead, "did you think I would judge you for your living conditions? Which are honestly pretty cush. Who do you take me fore Don?!"

"I! Well it's not that I thought you would judge me, it's just... I'm a mutant. Living in the sewers just- I don't know. The only things you think of living in the sewers are creepy gross monsters or rodents. On top of that it's the sewers! Most people find that pretty gross."

"Donnie. We've known each other for longer then a year. If I was disgusted by you, you would know by now," you spoke dryly.

"All this time I thought you just needed to get used to things. But you were just assuming the worst about me? What the heck Donnie?" You were hurt. You loved him so much, and he thought you would leave him because of where he lives? He really thought you were that judgemental?

"What?! No! I wasn't assuming the worst about you! I was just afraid you'd realize you deserve better than me!"

"BUT YOU'RE ALL I WANT!"

He stopped and looked at you, eyes wide.

"Really?"

"Yes! And I hate it when you talk like you're not deserving of love just because you're mutant."

"I just... I just don't see what you see in me," he admitted.

"Then stop assuming things and closing yourself off. Talk to your family, talk to your friends, talk to me. I never worry about whether or not you love me, you've seen me at my worst and never left my side. You're so scared of how I'll react to your worst you never even give me a chance to show you," you grabbed his hand and looked him in the eye.

"You don't get to decide how I feel or what I think, only I do."

"You're right, I'm sorry. Sorry for assuming things, things about you, and for taking so long to introduce you."

You kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you," you smiled at him. Then pinched his neck and pulled him to you.

"Ow ow ow ow!"

"And never do that again," you let him go.

"Yes of course absolutely never again," he nodded and smiled at you. You smiled back and patted his chest.

"Now before we continue the conversation of how to approach your family, I feel like we should address the eavesdroppers in the room," you said pulling back the door all the way. It was already cracked open to allow the peepers better visuals for your conversation.

As it slid open you noticed Casey and the three brothers trying to run away from the door.

"What! Guys! What part of private conversation do you not understand?!" Donnie yelled at them.

"I told you guys you shouldn't have done that," Leo scolded them.

"YOU LITERALLY JOINED RIGHT AFTER SAYING THAT!" Raph pointed an accusatory finger at him, "AND FOR THE RECORD IT WAS MIKEY'S IDEA!" He yelled moving his pointing to the youngest.

"Wow dude, I thought we were in this together," Mikey put a hand on his chest hurt.

"Well in the end it doesn't matter cuz it already happened right?" Casey shrugged and took a seat on the couch again.

Out of everyone here you and Donnie were most ticked at Casey.

Both you and Donnie approached him from behind and grabbed one of his shoulders.

"W-what? Uhhh. You dudes need something? Eh heh..." he stuttered nervous. Only just now did he realize the hole he had dug for himself.

"Why don't we have a chat Casey," you smiled but it was less of a question and more of a statement.

"Privately," Donnie finished, no smile to be found.

You both were gonna have fun with this. Then Donnie could take you home and tuck you in. What a great boyfriend girlfriend bonding activity!

------------------------------------------------------------Listen y'all, I know Google maps don't work like this, but just for the sake of plot pretend like it does.

[anawrites3]

I want someone (not me) to write a Bodyguard!Sladick fic - but in a very specific way (I'll probs end up writing this unless someone beats me to it (pls beat me to it someone, I can't commit to another WIP))

Basically, someone kills Bruce Wayne. And not because he's batman, but because he's rich af and refuses to sell his land in Gotham (bc yk, bro can't sell the fucking batcave and all his safe houses full of Batmerch). But no one knows who killed Bruce and why but they all believe it's because they found out Batman's identity and needed him out of the way for something.

21 year old Dick Grayson, who hasn't spoken to Bruce or had anything to do with the Batfam for two years, is asked to come back for Bruce's funeral and reading of the Will. Turns out, Bruce left everything - and I mean everything; cape and all - to Dick. Dick is now The Batman, the leader of the JL, the billionaire, the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and also the legal guardian of not one, not two, but three kids. Jason and Tim was understandable, but Bruce never mentioned to Dick about having a kid with Talia al Ghul of all people. In all fairness, Damian was only dropped off at Bruce's feet two months ago. (Note that I'm fucking around with the Batboy's ages. Thus, Jason is 16 (bro died young), Tim is 14(bro was crazy stalking so young), and Damian in 9(bro is just young))

The killer, however, is still at large, and is now targeting Dick, the new Prince of Gotham, and his kids. But Batman (Dick) can't get involved just yet, the Batfam don't know what exactly the killers knows about them and Batman - it's too risky. But Dick can't just not do anything. So he calls the one person he knows will keep his family safe - for the right price, obvs.

Dick has money to play with and Slade loves a good game.

Basically they make a contract that issues Deathstroke as the bodyguard of the Grayson-Wayne Family until Bruce's killer is handled.

Only, Slade comes with his own baggage (aka a 9 yr old Rose Wilson) and Dick is stuck training (aka raising) another kid. But that's fine, because Slade ends up being less of Dick's bodyguard (let's face it, the kid can handle himself), and more of Dick's bodyguard-with-benefits/mentor/business partner/mental-support-bestie/drinking-buddy/private-chef/co-parent/stay-at-home-husband/love-of-his-life.

They get very domestic in this fic. And Slade has to wear a three-piece suit when following Dick around as he plays Gotham's Billion Dollar Prince and Dick can't stop riding him in the back of the Batmobile because Slade looks waaaaay too good in a suit.

But raising kids is hard, especially when you're 21. So Dick faces a lot of challenges in this fic - like his undead brother, Jason, trying to come to terms with Bruce dying right after they started to mend their relationship, and Tim who was just recently fired as Robin after one simple mistake, and his new rage at Bruce for that and dying (he refuses to believe his dead), and fuck - the nine year old assassin and grandson of Ra's al Ghul, Damian, who never truly had the pleasure (misfortune?) of knowing his father. Than there's Rose Wilson, who doesn't really know English all that well and is dealing with the trauma of watching her mother die before her.

So Dick has to really step up - as a business man, as a leader, as Batman, and as a father.

Luckily he's got Slade, who fuck's like he fights. It tuff that Dick is quickly falling in love with Slade, and Rose, who he can't help but see as his kid, too.

Oh I love this idea so much, its great!! I would love to read it as well ahaha and I might write something 👀👀 but it's a big project so I wouldn't be able to do the whole thing

But you can let me know if you have any fav/special scene in mind (or a few 😌) and I might write it. You can also check out my commission info if that's what you'd preffer and you're able to afford it!

I love bodyguard Slade stories, I'm a sucker for those honestly haha and I love how here he's protecting not only Dick but the whole family. And its just so delicious that Dick hasn't talked to Bruce in so long and now he's thrown back into his life- but Bruce is dead and Dick has to take on the mantle and help the city and raise three kids and keep them all alive and not go crazy and-

I love that you're making it even more messy and difficult for Dick by putting Rose in the middle of it too lmao. I can already imagine all the trouble the family would have together

Slade wearing a three piece is a sight and I don't blame Dick at all 🙈🙈 But seriously, I adore their relationship in this, it's so complex and complicated. I can imagine them bonding over some whisky when the kids are deep asleep and Dick getting frustrated with what his life is now and Slade just letting him cry while holding him close AGHH SO GOOD

Thank you for sharing! Again, its a great idea and I'd love to play with it a bit if you allow me 🤗💕

[foster-the-world]

Fuzzy nostaglia

I finished Ann Patchett's Tom Lake on vacation. Its our book club book of the month. I recommend. The main character is telling a story from a time in her life. Now I'm reading The Rachel Incident. Same idea of an adult reliving a time from their youth. The Tom Lake narrator forgets a lot. Which seems realistic.

At the same time my husband and I spent half of our vacation in Switzerland. Almost ten years ago I lived in Geneva for a few months for work. For three years after that I spent a few weeks/a month or two there a year for work related travel. Ten years doesn't feel that long ago but that time in my life is very fuzzy. I don't really remember if I was happy or not. I had a cool job - where I moved to a new/interesting country every three monthish. I worked for Doctors without Borders - on the admin side. I lived and worked with my colleagues. Three out of eight had to leave due to mental health problems. Two of them had very obvious mental health breaks that the field teams were unequipped to handle. They were there one day and then sent home the next. Was I lonely? I don't remember being lonely. I had a younger, bad choice Belgium boyfriend for a while. Glad I dodged that bullet. I had committed to finishing six more months of the project and then quitting. I planned to come back and foster on my own. I came home for Christmas break and met my now husband. Which was a lucky break. We did six months long distance then were together forever more. He agreed with the fostering plan. Which looking back was a big jump to take together. At the time it felt pretty seamless. Which it was. We fight and get on each others nerves. We aren't perfect. His snoring is driving me crazy. But overall our relationship has always been my easiest yes. On our anniversary trip it was nice to take the time to remember we've got a good thing going.

Anyway, interesting to go back to cities you spent a fair amount of time in. I remember I didn't love Geneva. All European cities are amazing but its kind of stuffy. I felt the same way this time. We only spent one night. Which was enough for me. I wanted to show him my old office but didn't get the time. He liked Geneva but he's easy to impress. That's one of the good things about him.

In an embarrassing memory at some point I was on the train in Geneva. Instead of swiping tickets its an honor system. You buy and on occasion someone comes to check to make sure you have it. I was on the train one day when this guy comes tapping on my shoulder. For some reason, I thought he was hitting on me. I said no, merci and turned away. He tapped again. I embarrassed myself further by brushing him away with my hands. An older women had to tell me in English that the poor man just wanted to see my ticket. Horrifying. I was passed an age where men would regularly hit on me so I'm not sure why I thought he was doing that. In me defense, he had on a big fur coat instead of the normal bright orange jacket. Still embarrassing. My husband thought the story was hilarious.

Happy to get home to my sweet babies.

[bubblep0ppy]

hello, i’m nine and i’m here to tell my truth, as ridiculous and stupid that sounds, because you people have been only reading one side of the situation and i don’t think that’s fair. 

i joined with nailea devora to a group recently after more than a year of not even getting near to groups in general because as a lot of us know, people can’t control themselves and the hate they throw on a daily basis is honestly gross and my mental health can’t deal with that, but alas i was back for something i thought was fun, playing a dumb nepo baby who gets whatever she wants and plays dumb about it but in reality she had her ups and downs. she took me a while to figure out because i do love my characters and writing them 

during the first party of said group, there was a mixup and characters had to dress up and poppy’s group (she was the manager) decided on cowboys, now tell me, what would you do? because i jumped onto pinterest and found several pictures of nailea wearing a cowboy hat and i picked the cutest ones i found

did i check her age at the moment? no, because nailea is 21 years old and my character as well... why would i (and i quote someone from said rp) carbon date the pictures of my character? 

so i posted it and kept the party, poppy was around all day and as of the day i dropped her, she had the most tweet count in the entire group (if that tells you anything) 

during the party she was flirting with another character she liked since day 1 and they’ve been talking and it wasn’t a sexual relationship, just flirting like literally everyone in that group or the entire rpc for that matters 

him qrt that picture and poppy jokingly said “you let a cowboy ride you” or something like that, she never said anything actually inappropriate on main because she didn’t even say it on dms. 

and this is when things get wild because the yuqi fc started fights with everyone and i get that some characters are just assholes, i love villains in media, but in my opinion, some kind of ooc talk must exist before you right on attack someone on main, out of good manners at least (but we all know not everyone has that privilege) 

poppy ended up blocking the yuqi fc out of principle, she wasn’t gonna let some biter bitch to ruin her night (which ended with her sleeping alone btw, seeing as how much they care about my character’s sexual life) 

after that, the yuqi fc kept posting indirects or very direct attacks to my character, at one point it was all they posted and ignored it, i don’t like to get into drama that way and if they couldn’t kept poppy out of their mind.. well everyone has haters, right? 

this went on for WEEKS and poppy only cared about it when her friends sent her ss of the post cai made, and she was annoyed because her friends used to confront xem only for cai to laugh about it and not even give a good explanation 

i talked to the admins about changing my fc or even drop the group but i was convinced to stay because i haven’t been done anything bad. 

guess what? the bullying kept going. 

when i dropped the group for a day, i was tired of it (and other problems my chara found herself into even though it wasn’t plotted, again) and as soon as i left, cai mun posted an “apology” to the tl saying how it was a ooc thing that went ic for some reason. 

now to clarify, i have no idea who this person is and honestly i don’t want to give them the privilege to meet me or talk to me because someone with that much hate in their person is just not someone i want in my life. 

they claimed that the picture with the cowboy hat was of nailea being underage, which i can’t say 100% sure, but nailea deleted all of her underage pictures from instagram and this one was posted 3 years ago, when she was 18/19 years old. 

yes, younger than the limit for the group, but that doesn’t mean she was underage or even that i was using that to “infantilize” her, poppy was a very complex character and i don’t see how someone who was blocked for 90% of the time could say something about the way i played her... 

and speaking about the “sexting on main” i never did that and feel free to stalk my old account, the only “racy” thing i posted was a tiktok and it wasn’t even that graphic and again, it was posted for another person poppy was talking (not in a romantic way) 

but i don’t know, let the person obsessed with mario bros and calling themselves a “princess” for the entirety of the group to tell you who’s being childish 

[vykko]

Honestly my experience as a trans person is best explained as

the term “assigned gender at birth” like I don’t really feel like I have one if using like my sex to define it, like 16 years ago some doctor declared I’m a girl and that’s what I was assigned. I don’t agree with what I was assigned as like I don’t think it was a fair assessment as I had no say in it if that makes sense

But it has nothing to do with my actual body

like this bitch is genderless bc it’s a body, if I was dead and someone found my corpse. Well that’s just a body. What’s the point of trying to gender the dead. I’m not using it anymore so like who cares maybe I’ll turn into a rad skeleton

I’ve got a complicated relationship with my gender (and also one to do with how connected I am to my actual body)

but like I don’t care if my behaviour or my way of presenting myself is feminine

I’m a dude because its what I prefer to identify as

Like I told my therapist that I’m trans and I was asked like I think trying to see if I had dysphoria questions(not quoted exactly as it’s been awhile so it’s basically summing it up)

“Why do not want to be a girl, is it bad”

“no I’m just not one”

like in the same way my favourite colour doesn’t matter but it’s still important. I don’t hate other colours I just like my favourite one the most

like at the end of the day it only matters bc a bunch of people are pissed off that trans people won’t do what they want them to do, like I’m not hurting anyone by saying I’m a boy

I’m a boy

I don’t hurt people, I haven’t figured out how my exsitence could possibly physically harm someone

honestly it’s kinda embarrassing if someone is mental scarred by me just existing

like fuck it I’m going on a rant about shit

like I use the women’s bathrooms because it’s safe, I’m veiw do as woman so I have to use it for safety, I don’t feel safe going into the men’s room

like I’m not hurting any cis woman, nobody complains about trans men using the women’s restroom

like I’m just like peeing, washing my hands then leaving

like so are trans women, sometimes people reapply make up, but like nobody is going through the effort to line up for ages just to not use the bathroom

Like I don’t care what you identify as just wash your hands and close the stall door

why do we even have gendered bathrooms, like last time I checked all sex’s have to use them

like honestly also why are American stall doors so exposed

like the Costco (my only experience of America as an Australian is Costco) has barely any privacy I swear that a kid could easily come in through it

[intrusive-thoughtz]

rant number2

I've been very very lonely very lonely. I don't see my friends enough I don't even really feel like anyone actually likes me I feel like I'm a problem in the world. I also broke up with my boyfriend 8 months ago because he made some racist comments for getting that he sticks his dick in a black and brown girl. And that made me really sad because that always seems to be the issue with the reasons why I break up with most of my boyfriends because they're low-key racist.

I'd like to think I have a fantastic personality my brain is filled with lots of knowledge skills and facts and movies and shows and books but no one finds me interesting. People tell me that I'm intimidating wow what a fucking great compliment that makes me feel fantastic. I am a woman and I just want to be treated as a woman I want to be told that I'm beautiful I want somebody to be like hey babe I was thinking about you I bought you flowers hey there's this really cool restaurant would you like to go check it out hey I saw this today and I thought you would like it I bought it for you. Hey I know you like to just go sit on the beach and paddle board so I rented a some paddle boards. But no I am single I have no prospects no one finds me interesting and it comes to a point where you start questioning your own existence.

I have body dysmorphia so the first thing I question is oh my God I'm fat and disgusting ew look at the stretch marks on my belly that came out of nowhere I never even have children it's kind of embarrassing. Oh maybe because I don't shave my arms and I look like a hairy beast oh maybe it's my nose I'm not your your your eurocentric kind of looking girl. And I know that most people don't care about that shit that's just shit that's in my head from growing up in the early 2000s in a shitty world. And the only man who are attracted to me are either over 60 who think I'm going to be there perfect little pretty house wife that keeps my mouth shut or they're 25 years old and makes me feel like an old behemoth in my thirties who can't find anyone in her age group to date because they all have that early 2000s mentality where they have this like perfect girl in their minds that's like their mom with the worst expectations in women and I can't even deal with having a conversation with them. I'm Literally in fucking limbo.

my worst fear is having a relationship with someone who's exactly like my dad who's literally the worst human being I have ever met and I've met some shitty ones in my time. I would rather die old and single although it would be wonderful to have someone to do things with while all my friends around me are getting married having kids moving in with boyfriends making milestones and I'm like a kid still living with my parents in my thirties with four cats. I'm a fucking stereotype. I'm feeling defective like there's something wrong with me. I'm really pushed for my two friends to start dating and now I'm just a fucking fart in the wind no one calls me they act like I live this extremely busy life when really I just go to work and come home but the both of them are consistently texting smelling each other's farts live together but they can't go out to dinner with me and their other roommate who were all friends with great job. My friend also won't go to the beach with us anymore or water parks or adventures go with their boyfriend and leave the rest of us home. In fact They went to the Renaissance Fair and didn't even tell me so I could request off and go and I've never been a little really have the worst people in my life

[katsuhera]

FIRST LOVE | s. manjiro, tokyo revengers ˗ˏˋ sano manjiro (mikey) x f!reader ˗ˏˋ wc: 8299 ˗ˏˋ nsfw (18+), childhood friends to lovers au, all chars aged mid-twenties, unprotected sex, creampie, soft sex, implications of a past toxic + mentally abusive relationship with kisaki, i think that's it? this grew way out of hand and into something that now i'm just proud of! so i hope you enjoy 🤍 ˗ˏˋ note: this is my submission for the 2d men discord kittens server l is for lewd collab!

“so many recent pictures and you still keep this one on your bedside?” emma asked, picking up the worn picture frame that sat on your nightstand.

“shut up,” you laughed, snatching it away from her. “it’s a good picture. what’s wrong with a little nostalgia?”

“nothing’s wrong with nostalgia, but it’s the fact that you haven’t framed your pictures from graduation, your diploma, and worst of all, the pictures with me—”

“oh my god sue me,” you rolled your eyes. “lock me up in prison. god forbid i don’t frame the pictures we have with each other that we have on our cell phones, where we can look at them whenever we want.”

“you’re lucky i love you so much,” she retorted, flopping back down onto your bed. “anyway, what are your plans for next weekend? are you free?”

“next weekend? hmm… should be. why?”

“wanna go on a double date with me?” emma asked, suddenly turning your way and looking directly in your eyes so that you couldn’t look away. “please don’t make any excuses, your last relationship was literally back in college.”

“isn’t that a valid excuse?” you whined, throwing your head back. “my last relationship was back in college because it was the last confirmation i needed that men suck.”

“okay, fair, but i found this one really hot guy on tinder—”

“and he’s from tinder!?”

“i know! i know, just, just shut up for a sec and hear me out,” she said, sitting up straight and holding your hands. “i’ll even show you my conversation with him and everything. but his name is ken, goes by draken—isn’t that already super cool?—and he’s rich and funny and charming and tall. tell me, y/n, when was the last time i had a tall boyfriend?”

“never.”

“exactly. so that’s why, to commemorate this special occasion of me finding a tall man, i’d like to bring you along so you can see him and his hot friend.”

you sighed in defeat. “show me these pictures, i guess.”

she squealed, whipping her phone out and tapping furiously. “here!”

you stared at the screen, trying to find any kind of fault to bring up.

“this one’s short,” you deadpanned, pointing to who you assumed to be ken’s friend.

“well.... well yeah, but you’re not tall so it doesn’t matter!” she reasoned, scratching her neck. “but aren’t they pretty attractive? i feel like his friend is also your type. like a fuckboy, but he’s rich, so… an elevated fuckboy? something like that?”

“i hate you.”

“say yes? please?”

“do i have a choice?”

“no.”

“fine.”

she squeaked, tackling you in a hug. “i promise it’ll be a good time. and if it’s not, we’ll leave early. you know i’m good about that!”

“yeah, yeah. anyway, what’s his friend’s name?”

“manjiro…? yeah, manjiro sano,” she recalled, checking back on her messages with ken to confirm. “apparently they’re best friends and also work together. imagine if that was us?”

“we wouldn’t get shit done,” you snorted.

“eep! wait, i have to go now—i’m gonna be late, gotta pick up my mom from her hair appointment. i’ll text you about next weekend?”

you waved your hands dismissively. “yeah yeah, get back safe!”

you waited until emma left and closed the door behind her to fall back on your pillow, your mind full of thoughts—and a little anxiety—over your upcoming date.

the last date you went on was literal years ago, when you were back in college. the dude was a total dick that even emma had told you to be wary of, but something just kept you in the relationship, waiting eternally for things to get better.

you still remember his name, the name of the guy that turned you off from men for a while. kisaki tetta. you let out a sigh at the thought of his name, trying to think of something else. otherwise, you knew that thinking about him for too long would only bring back bad memories.

you lifted your forgotten picture frame up, staring at the worn photo inside of it. it was a decades-old photo of you and your childhood best friend—or first love, rather—mikey. hell, you could barely even remember if that was his real name, it’d been about twenty years since you last saw him. but he always went by mikey—cute little mikey who would wait for you at the end of the slide because you were too scared of completely letting go and just sliding down, adorable mikey with whom you’d formed a childish marriage pact to be fulfilled in your late 30s or 40s, or even 50s, your first love mikey who suddenly left your neighborhood and left your five-year-old heart with a gaping hole.

you knew that first loves and marriage pacts rarely ever worked out, but it was the way that he so suddenly just up and left that forever bothered you. the mikey that never failed to walk you home from pre-school and drop by on the weekends for a bite of your mom’s cooking simply left you without another word, and even now you felt that five-year-old you deserved some type of closure. well, even if you did deserve it—what were you going to do about it? you’d long since come to the realization that you’d probably never see him again, anyway.

“are you excited!?” emma asked, waltzing in through your front door, silky blonde hair shining in bouncy curls. “you look cute!”

“eh,” you responded. you weren’t lying—you learned long ago not to get your hopes up with men. you were only going on this date for emma, anyway, not really because you expected to hit it off with this manjiro guy or anything.

she pouted, seeing your indifference.

“okay, fair. hopefully it’s fun, though! if anything, the place we’re going to seems really cute. even if they suck, we’ll get some good drinks and food out of it.”

“yeah, that is true,” you replied absentmindedly, making some last minute touch ups to your makeup and making sure you had everything you needed. “should we call an uber soon?”

“no need, they’re picking us up.”

huh. you couldn’t remember the last time a guy picked you up for a date.

“oh wait, ken just texted me—they’re here!” she exclaimed, squeezing your arm. “got everything?”

“yeah,” you said, sudden nervousness striking you as you gathered your things and walked towards your door. “okay, let’s go!”

the two of you walked out to see a black bugatti parked outside, tinted windows shielding you from even glimpsing the men inside.

“a bugatti, huh?” you whispered quietly to emma, whose expression looked just as surprised as yours.

“well.... ken did mention that they’re comfortable,” she replied, wide-eyed.

the passenger-side door opened at that moment, revealing who you recognized to be manjiro. his black hair was loosely tied back, exposing a clean shaven undercut and a tattoo that crept up to the base of his neck.

he got out to open the backdoor for you and emma, holding it open with a polite smile on his face.

“emma and… y/n, right?” he asked, his voice faltering the tiniest bit—so subtle that you almost didn’t catch it.

“yeah! manjiro, right? it’s good to meet you,” emma said cheerily, grabbing your hand and getting in. “thanks for picking us up, again.”

“of course, no worries,” he said, looking down hastily once you two’d made eye contact.

well… he is cute, can’t deny that, you thought, smoothing down the front of your outfit as you sat. manjiro closed the door softly, and got in the front again.

“it’s good to meet you two,” ken said smoothly, looking at you and emma from the mirror. “have you been to this restaurant before?”

“no, but i kept hearing good things about it, so i thought it would be worth a try,” emma said, blushing and looking down.

you smiled, looking at her. ken definitely is her type, i’m glad.

“i’ll trust your judgement then,” he smirked, starting the car.

the car ride was short, the car purring quietly as ken easily weaved through traffic. both men seemed like smooth talkers for sure, but for the time being, you couldn’t sense anything weird or malintent from them.

after parking, they opened the doors for you two, ken on emma’s side and manjiro on yours.

oddly, you felt that you seemed to match—emma with ken and you with manjiro, though it was definitely unplanned. just… the color palettes and aesthetics. if you were a stranger looking in, you definitely would have thought that your outfits were planned.

like something out of a drama, you thought.

clearly, manjiro was thinking similarly.

“hey, we’re matching,” he said softly, smiling with an odd twinkle in his eye.

“get your own fashion sense,” you joked, and he merely chuckled, guiding you into the restaurant with a light hand on your mid-back.

butterflies started to flutter in your stomach, and you tried to deny them with all your being.

this means nothing, you thought firmly. you’re… just touch starved.

a couple of drinks in, and the less handsy manjiro became with you. though you weren’t really expecting anything per se, your tipsy self couldn’t help but remember your little interaction going into the restaurant. now, it seemed as though he were afraid to touch you, his rosy-cheeked self seeming to slink further and further away from you on the bench.

you glanced at ken and emma, who seemed to be having a great time—ken’s arm slung across her shoulders with a lazy smile, and emma’s cheeks constantly pulled in a charming smile, giggling at everything he said.

do i smell? you wondered, insecurity and anxiety bubbling up in your chest. does he just not like me? is it something i—

“can i get you another drink?” he asked you, his controlled voice waking you out of your toxic thought cycle. “i’m about to grab another for myself.”

“ah—sure,” you responded quickly, not really thinking. “just a vodka cran, if that’s okay.”

“sure,” he replied, smiling.

“what about me?” ken piped up.

“shut up, designated driver,” manjiro mocked.

“how come just y/n gets one?” ken fake pouted, looking up at manjiro with puppy eyes.

“no more for me!” emma said, throwing up her arms in a cross. “i’m drunk.”

“see? no more for emma, she’s drunk,” manjiro stated matter-of-factly, before turning to you. “y/n, are you sure you’re good for another?”

you were tipsy, but nowhere near your limit, so you nodded.

he pat your head softly, oblivious to the fireworks he sparked in your chest.

“see, ken? y/n’s fine, and that’s why she gets another drink,” he said smugly. “i’ll be right back,” he whispered to you, smiling.

you nod again, desperately trying to ignore the rising heat in your cheeks.

emma made eye contact with you, widening her eyes as if to ask: oh my god!? did he just do that!?

you widen yours in response, as though to tell her: i don’t know! shut up! act normal!

“so any secrets of manjiro’s that you can tell us now that he’s gone?” emma joked, cocking her head towards ken.

“huh,” he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. “i do have secrets, but i wanna make it out of here alive, so none that i can tell you.”

she pouted and you laughed, shaking your head when manjiro returned, drinks in hand.

“what’d i miss?” he asked.

“nothing,” ken replied quickly, a cocky grin on his face. “nothing at all.”

manjiro merely raised his eyebrows, but didn’t question it. he sat a little closer to you when he returned than he did before he left, as if to rid you of your prior insecurities.

“so emma, you’re a graphic designer, right?” manjiro asked. “what about you, y/n?”

“me? i’m in advertising,” you responded, suddenly shy now that the spotlight was on you. “what do you and ken do? you two work together, right?”

they shot each other furtive glances, pausing to clear their throats awkwardly.

“uh… it’s complicated,” ken started. “you can say that we’re in finance.”

“like, at a bank?”

“... no, not exactly.”

“it’s complicated and boring,” manjiro interjected smoothly. “but working together makes up for it.”

you somehow got the sense that you shouldn’t ask for more details, and so you swallowed your questions.

“shit!” emma gasped suddenly. “y/n, i forgot my keys—can i stay over?”

“again?” you laughed. “yeah, of course you can.”

“should we get going, then?” ken asked, looking worriedly at emma. “i’ll just drop you two back off where i picked you up?”

“yes, that’d be perfect,” you said, grateful for his concern.

he nodded, and helped emma to stand and walk towards the exit.

manjiro cleared his throat, catching you by the wrist as you also got up to leave.

“ah, wait—y/n,” he started, a little hesitant. “would you care to exchange numbers? no pressure, of course.”

“oh, sure!” you said, a little caught off-guard. “here, let me type in my number.”

he smiles gently to himself as he takes the phone back from you, and enters his own in your phone.

“here you go,” he said, handing it back to you as the two of you started to follow ken and emma. “i had fun tonight, y/n.”

“me too,” you said, a little shyly. “thanks for buying me those drinks.”

he shrugged. “it was the least i can do, after all this time,” his voice trailed off, and you strained to catch what he’d said over the buzz in the restaurant.

“sorry, i couldn’t hear you,” you said, leaning in.

“n-nothing, just that it was the least i could do,” he said quickly, cheeks flushing. “are you and emma going to be alright?”

“yeah, for sure, all she needs is some water,” you replied, touched by his concern. “she stays over all the time, it’s not like anything inconvenient.”

“that’s good to hear,” he said, patting your shoulder. “here, let me get the door.”

he opened the backdoor to the car, and you saw emma already sitting, her neck lolled back with her eyes closed.

“y/n! finally,” she pouted. “can we binge twilight at home?”

“maybe,” you laughed.

the four of you rode in comfortable silence on the way home, the windows rolled down to reveal the beautiful cityscape that sparkled in the clear night sky.

“we had a good time tonight,” ken said sincerely as you got out of the car. “hope you had fun, too.”

“we did,” you smiled. “thanks for dinner guys! and for the ride back.”

“of course.” manjiro looked at you curiously as you waved goodbye, waiting until you and emma were safely in your building before getting back in the car.

“so… that’s her, right?” ken asked quietly, starting the engine.

manjiro stared at your contact page in his phone for a moment before answering.

“... yeah. that’s her.”

you were weirdly constantly drawn to your phone in the days following your double date, and even in all your denial you have to admit that it’s probably because of how consistently ken and emma texted.

you were undoubtedly happy for her, especially since ken’s the first guy that you didn’t immediately disapprove of for her, but still—seeing her giggle at her phone when talking to him struck a strange chord in your heart.

he’d sent a cordial “hey, this is manjiro. just wanted to check in and see if you and emma woke up alright” the next morning, but your conversation had fallen a little flat by the end of the day.

sighing, at this point you were certain that you could deny your interest in him no longer. the tingly sensation you got in your chest when he patted your head in the restaurant came back to haunt you randomly throughout the day, and you swore that you’d do fucking anything to get rid of that.

should i text him first? you wondered. your eyes sauntered over to emma, who sat in the corner of your room, rapidly tapping on her phone. but what would i even text him about?

“emma,” you started hesitantly.

“hmm? what’s up?”

“what do you and ken talk about?”

she stared at you blankly before answering. “hmm, like… everything? i don’t know, we kinda just talk about our days, and stuff. i tell him about work and he tells me about whatever it is he does throughout the day.”

“mmm.”

“have you and manjiro been talking?”

“no,” you almost didn’t want to answer. “bu—”

“does that bother you?”

“n—” you started, stopping yourself halfway. “yeah, maybe. i just don’t, like, know what to talk about with him.”

“huh.”

“what?”

“heard from ken that manjiro really liked you,” she said nonchalantly, pursing her lips. “kinda weird that he hasn’t texted you or anything.”

“i couldn’t even tell that he liked me at all,” you said, exasperated.

“i don’t think it would hurt to text him first…” she said, lost in thought. “maybe ask to grab coffee?”

what was stopping you?

“i… i guess, yeah, i can do that,” you gave in.

“you guys would be so cute together,” she mused. “i might have been drunk that night, but i still remember him patting your head!”

“do you think that even meant anything? it felt so random.”

“it couldn’t have meant nothing, right? after all, ken did say that manjiro liked you, so…”

you sighed, at a loss. “help me write this text.”

“babe, you’re literally 23. i think you can compose a text on your own.”

you huffed in defeat, knowing she was right. looking over at her, you saw that she’d already gone back to giggling quietly and typing—must be nice, you thought.

hi... you started typing.

does that sound off? you wondered.

hey manjiro, hope i’m not bothering you! just wanted to know if you’d be down to grab some coffee sometime :)

you stared at your phone, the blinking cursor flashing ominously as your mind raced to think of a better way to construct the sentence.

fuck it, you thought, and pressed send.

hey y/n! sure, i’d love to. does sometime tomorrow work for you?

you blinked, surprised at the quick reply.

i get off work at 5, so i should be free any time after 6!

that sounds perfect, i’ll be coming back from something around then. wanna meet at bibble & sip? if i remember right, i think it’s in your area!

you laughed softly to yourself, a little amused at the fact that a guy like manjiro knew about a place like bibble & sip. you’d been there before and it was in your neighborhood—it was a quaint little cafe, known for their adorable sweets.

yeah, i love bibble & sip! sounds good, i’ll text you when i start heading over there tomorrow then.

looking forward to it. see you tomorrow, y/n :)

you stared for a while at the smiley face he included, wondering briefly if he was just trying to match your tone in sending that.

locking your phone, you turned on netflix, hoping that it would distract you from thinking about manjiro until tomorrow.

“fuck are you smiling at?” ken asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked at manjiro in the passenger seat of his car.

“tch. nothing, dickhead,” manjiro spat, locking his phone quickly. silently, he thanked ken for always blasting music as he drove—surely he would have heard the drumming of his heart in his chest otherwise.

hey, i’m on my way! you texted, a couple blocks from the cafe.

i’ll be there in a few minutes! caught in some traffic right now.

no worries! i’ll grab us a table

you took a deep breath before locking your phone and opening the door to the cafe. thankfully, there were plenty of open seats, and you decided on the corner seats—soft mini couches with a ceramic table between them.

it wasn’t long before manjiro stepped through the entrance, scanning the room to find you, smiling when he did.

his smile offered an odd comfort to your pattering heart, starting to slowly dull your worries and anxiety about the meeting.

“y/n! have you been well?” he greeted you, pulling you into a gentle hug as you stood.

“mm, i have! what about you?”

“good, missed you though.” he’d said it so nonchalantly that you almost didn’t hear him. “i’ll go get us some drinks, do you have anything in particular in mind?”

you choked on air once you processed what he’d said. “j-just a latte, please,” you managed to splutter.

missed me? your thoughts raced wildly. did i hear that right?

you pretended to look through your phone as you waited for him to come back with your drinks, feeling too flushed to look at him outright.

“here you go,” he said, returning and setting down your coffees. “the glassware here is pretty nice, you said you’ve been here before right?”

“mhmm,” you said, mind still in a haze. “did you mean that, by the way?”

oh, shit.

“hmm? mean what?”

there was no escaping this situation now.

“that… that you missed me.”

manjiro blinked, as if confused as to why you even had to ask.

“yeah, why? i did…” he said, voice trailing off. “i did miss you. a lot, actually.”

you forced yourself to look him in his eyes, normally plain and dark but now shining with a genuine light, flickering between your own eyes as he tried to gauge what you were thinking.

you swallowed hard, a feeble attempt to compose yourself.

“oh.”

“you seem like you don’t believe me.”

“i mean,” you paused uncomfortably. “i mean it’s not that, but…”

“i wanted to text you,” he interrupted quietly. “but… i think something just held me back. like i don’t have the right to be texting you as much as i want.”

“the right…?”

he averted his gaze, staring instead at the foamy heart drawn on the top of his latte.

“it’s—it’s kinda complicated, honestly,” he started. “and i don’t mean this in a way where i’m, like, trying to avoid this conversation with you—”

“manjiro,” you cut in, gently but firmly. “i want to be honest with you. before you, i was in a fuck ton of shitty relationships where guys would avoid having important conversations with me, just like this one—but the difference between now and then is that now i’ve learned what it means to prioritize myself and i want to continue valuing that. if there’s something important that you can’t talk to me about, and it’ll keep us from…” you paused, unsure of the word you were looking for. “from… continuing… whatever this is, then—”

you gulped, wondering if you really meant what you were about to say.

“then i don’t want it,” you finished, quietly.

he paused, thinking.

“you’re right,” he said slowly. “no, you’re right. and—i’m sorry, i should have been more considerate. is… is now a good time to have a long, maybe boring conversation?”

your heart thumped in your chest wildly, excited from the thrill of not backing down from something you really wanted.

college me would be shocked right now, you thought wryly.

“yeah, i have time.”

he nodded, sipping his coffee.

“so… when ken and i said that we work in finance, we weren’t lying—entirely. but we deal with… dirty money.”

what? you stared at him blankly.

“okay, long story short—we run a gang.”

huh?

your bewildered face must have been funny to him, since he broke out in laughter. you were half expecting him to go “what!? did you believe me!?”, yet no such expression came.

“sorry, sorry, you just looked really cute,” he chuckled. “i’m being serious, though. i’m technically the leader, though ken shares a lot of my responsibilities, too.”

you found yourself furrowing your eyebrows in disbelief, trying to comprehend the words he’d said.

“is that, like, legal?”

another wide grin from him.

“unfortunately not, but that doesn’t really get in our way often.”

you nodded, choosing to drink your coffee in silence. a gang!? the fuck?

“but—but wait, before you start thinking whatever it is you’re thinking—we’re good people, i promise,” he said quickly, hands raised. “we don’t hurt innocent people, we don’t steal from innocent people, we really… our mission isn’t to hurt people, y’know? it’s kind of like our own world…”

you swallowed.

“as long as you’re a good person…” you responded slowly.

manjiro couldn’t help but break out into soft peals of laughter, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest at how cute and innocent your reaction was.

“i get it if you don’t believe me,” he said quietly, fingering the rim of his mug. “but i—”

“no, i do,” your response surprised you just as much as it did him.

“is it… okay with you?” he asked hesitantly, cautiously meeting your gaze.

was it? you weren’t even sure, yourself.

“i don’t know,” you answered honestly. “but i do appreciate you telling me.”

his cheeks grew rosy, and he looked down. “yeah. i was a little scared to tell you though, to be quite honest.”

“yeah, like what if i was an undercover cop?”

he snorted. “i guess i’d let you handcuff me.”

“tch,” you laughed, mind too empty to string together an actual response.

you both sipped quietly from your cups, looking anywhere but at each other.

manjiro had to go first, after receiving a call from ken.

“i’m sorry,” he apologized, genuine concern glowing in his eyes. “i’m sorry—i’ll make it up to you. but this is urgent.”

“gang stuff?” you giggled.

“uh,” he smiled, bemused. “yeah.”

“it’s okay—i should be heading home now, anyway.”

he nodded, internally fighting over whether he should just say fuck it and walk you home first before heading back to ken.

“text me when you’re home?”

“sure.”

he smiled, and reached his hand to gently squeeze yours.

your mind was a blur as you slowly made your way home, finding the balmy night air to be the perfect backdrop for you to try and clear your thoughts.

a gang… but a good one? the crease in your forehead deepened the more you tried to think about it.

but he was honest with you, and you couldn’t sense even a hint of deceit from him.

but a gang!? and not only that—but he’s the leader?

you sighed, dropping your head to stare at the floor as you walked.

“oi, slut.”

you froze, every cell in your body turning to stone as you registered who that voice belonged to. you couldn’t help but turn around slowly, praying to every deity there was that it wasn’t who you thought it was.

“that’s what you’re doing now? fucking with gang leaders?”

the lens of his glasses glinted in the moonlight, amber eyes glowering at you from behind them.

“thought you were done with men after we broke up,” he sneered, not taking his eyes off you for even a second as he stalked towards you.

“kisaki…?” god, you hated how your voice trembled.

“oh, so you still remember me,” he said, continuing his pace towards you. you backed up, backed up without thinking until you were pricked in the back by some family’s bush, thin branches and leaves threatening to leave holes in the soft fabric of your cardigan. “you still remember me, even though now you’ve got time to fuck around with guys like manjiro.”

your breath hitched at the mention of his name.

“how did you—”

“i saw everything, saw you simpering and giggling with him—what, did you think that because he got coffee for you that he’d be a different person?”

“w-what do you mea—”

a kick to the chest left kisaki on the floor, dumbfounded as to how he got there.

manjiro stood in front of you protectively, ken at his side.

“take her home,” ken muttered quietly.

“you think i don’t know that?” manjiro quipped, but his expression softened as he turned to you. “are you alright? come, i’ll walk you back.”

you nodded blankly, taking shallow breaths in an attempt to calm your trembling body.

he looked at you worriedly, but decided against saying anything. he merely took your hand in his, entwining your fingers softly in his.

your body moved on autopilot, only able to put one foot in front of the other because it was something you’d done for over twenty years.

“did he hurt you?” he asked, holding your hand securely.

you shook your head, wide-eyed. after all this time, he still came to find me.

“y—of course, you don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable or anything, but.. what was he to you?”

“my ex,” you said, shaky voice piercing the otherwise still serenity of the night. “the last guy i ever dated.”

“mmm.”

the sounds of your combined footsteps filled the air, thick with unasked and unanswered questions.

“he was abusive,” you said quietly, voice so low that it almost came out as a whisper. “not, like, physically, he didn’t hit me or anything—but mentally. made me feel worthless and shitty, and like i’d never amount to anything unless i stayed with him.”

manjiro balled his free hand into a fist at your words, knuckles whitening as they sunk in. he knew kisaki was a piece of shit, knew that there was something wrong with the guy—but it was too late. he and ken were too late, and kisaki had found you.

he swallowed his anger.

“did he say anything weird to you?”

“he mentioned you, actually, kinda seemed like you knew each other.”

“we do,” manjiro said grimly. “we have a shit history together, too.”

“oh.”

you couldn’t do this tonight. you probably couldn’t do it tomorrow, either. seeing kisaki had drained the energy from your body, bringing back in floods the awful, god awful memories of your years together.

“it’s this place, right?”

he stopped, causing you to nearly bump into him as you continued mindlessly walking. you blinked, the familiar front garden and walkway slowly coming into focus in your vision.

“y-yeah,” you said, staring blankly.

“i’ll wait for you to go in, don’t worry,” he said reassuringly, loosening his grip on your hand.

you shook your head silently.

“what’s wrong? oh, i should walk you to your door—come, y/n.”

he led you slowly to your doorstep, keeping an eye out on the sidewalk behind you as you fumbled with your keys, finally unlocking the door.

“sleep tight,” he said, squeezing your fingers. “text me if you need anything.”

don’t leave.

you shook your head once more, simply gazing at him with empty eyes.

“hmm? is something wrong?”

“can you come in with me?”

“i…” he searched your eyes apprehensively. “yeah, i can—of course.”

silently, he followed you in, locking the door behind you.

“i’m scared,” you said quietly, your emotions laid bare on your face.

“it’s okay, i got you—i’m here. i can stay until you fall asleep.”

manjiro gulped, hoping that if he swallowed hard enough, his heart would stop beating so damn wildly.

you nodded simply.

“help yourself to anything in the kitchen,” you said, an awkward formality. with a meek smile, you turned and padded off to the bathroom to shower.

once he heard the water running, he sunk down into the plush cushions of your living room sofa, checking his phone to find updates from ken. relieved, he read ken’s messages to find that kisaki had been taken care of.

he let out a long, slow exhale, wondering how he’d ended up in your apartment. looking around, he found that traces of you could be found everywhere: in the simple, neat way you arranged your things, the hints of color in the accessories, the stuffed animal sitting in the corner chair—

the stuffed animal that’d once belonged to him.

vivid memories flooded back, surging into his brain at once as his memory played back in his mind like a movie reel. he remembered suddenly how you’d chased him around the playground, screaming and laughing as you ran with your arms outstretched, gunning straight for the stuffed bunny he’d held in his arms. he remembered suddenly how he’d even gotten it—his older brother, shinichiro had won it at some arcade and brought it home for him, and how the first thought his childish brain had upon seeing the doll was that you would probably like it. he remembered suddenly showing up to your childhood house with that same bunny in his arms, presenting it to you on your sixth birthday, and how your eyes had lit up with childish glee upon receiving it.

there he sat on your sofa, so entirely lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed the single, hot tear rolling down his cheek, nor your re-entrance to the room, fresh from your shower.

“you’re gonna stay ‘til i fall asleep, right?”

he nodded, quickly wiping the fallen moisture from sight.

“yeah, are you going to bed now?”

“yeah.”

“okay.”

he followed you to your bedroom, sitting gingerly at your dresser as you tucked yourself into your covers.

what am i doing? you wondered hazily. inviting a guy you liked, but barely knew into your home—and not only that, but to wait for you to sleep. and he’s the leader of the gang. somehow, that seemed like the least important fact about him.

but your body acted on its own, acting according to an autopilot you didn’t know you’d had configured.

you extended your hand out to him, looking at him with innocent eyes, silently pleading for him to take your hand in his.

he understood and willingly obliged, sitting at the very edge of your mattress and entwining your fingers in his once more.

“good night,” he said, his smooth voice blanketing your frazzled mind and offering some semblance of comfort. “i’ll be here, don’t worry.”

you nodded, blinking sleepily.

what am i doing… you asked yourself wearily, but at this moment, you found that you didn’t even have the energy to care. all you wanted, desperately, desperately needed was something to distract you from kisaki tetta, to rid you of all the shitty memories and to hold you and make you feel like everything would be okay.

his hand was warm, engulfing yours, and you held it close to your cheek, laying on your side.

you drifted off easily, his smell and warm, comforting presence cleansing you of your fears.

manjiro’s phone buzzed in the jacket that he left in your chair, and he willfully ignored it, choosing instead to watch you sleep. a sense of relief settled in his heart watching the slight crease in your forehead smooth out, leaving your expression otherwise sweet and peaceful.

his eyes flickered to your nightstand, the framed picture causing his heart to jump into his throat.

there he was, his blonde hair a sloppy mess atop his head, and there you were, clinging to his arm—just as you always had, when you were little.

when things were simpler, he thought, with a pang.

he’d never wanted to leave you.

when shinichiro died, his family was broken, opting to leave the neighborhood altogether in an ugly attempt to cope with their grief. but it only broke little mikey further, first being so cruelly separated from his beloved brother, and then ripped from his beloved you.

for the past twenty or so years, he’d spent much of his time wondering how he’d apologize to you, how he’d confess that you were his childhood love—if he’d ever see you again.

and then one day, like destiny you’d been brought to each other. and now, like destiny, he sat at the edge of your bed, holding your hand as you drifted to sleep.

it wasn’t before he was just a centimeter from your face that he realized what he was doing, and he moved to pull away when you suddenly shifted, bringing your lips to meet his.

the sudden contact woke you from your sleep, and you opened your eyes to see a pair of familiar, dark eyes gaping at yours.

familiar, dark eyes that strangely reminded you of—

“mikey…?” you asked, bleary and dazed from your sleep.

he shrunk back slightly, his ears ringing with the sound of his heart drumming in his chest.

“yeah,” he said hoarsely, swallowing hard. “it’s me—it’s mikey, y/n.”

blinking away the fogginess, you stared at him in disbelief until something clicked in your brain.

“manj—mikey?” you asked, sitting up, heat rising quickly to your face. “you’re mikey?”

nodding, he searched your eyes for any hint of your thoughts.

how could you not have realized?

“mik—my mikey?”

he stilled, confused.

“yours?”

your face grew even hotter, realizing what you’d said.

“i mean—” he started.

“it’s you, right?” you interrupted. “you knew i was—that i was me, right? why didn’t you say anything?”

he didn’t have an answer, merely dropping his head down to avoid eye contact.

“it’s like i said before, y/n. i… i didn’t think i deserved to be able to tell you.”

“why did you leave me?”

your words rang raw with emotion, hiding the twenty years’ worth of pent up tears and childish fits behind them.

he swallowed, hard.

“shin died.”

oh.

“my parents decided it was best—for them—to just… leave. leave behind this neighborhood where we’d grown up with shin. it was too much for them, i guess.”

you gripped your sheets until they balled up in your fists, overwhelmed with feelings and emotions you thought you’d safely locked away two decades ago.

“you were my first love, you know.”

mikey spoke simply, quietly, as though what he’d just confessed was a simple fact, not to ever be denied or argued with.

“you don’t have to say anyth—”

“stupid,” you cut him off, staring at him with shining eyes brimming with hot tears. “you were mine, too.”

time slowed for mikey, each passing second feeling like an hour as he took in what you’d said.

“and i wanted to confess first.”

you grabbed his wrist, pulling him into you and bringing his lips home, home to yours, and briefly you felt the trickle of a tear that wasn’t yours spill onto your cheek.

your lips were soft on his chapped ones, and for a couple of sweet, sweet moments the two of you stayed together like that, pouring the emotions of two small children who’d never had their feelings validated into this one sweet, simple kiss.

trembling still, you lifted your other hand to caress his cheek, wiping away the tear that had already fallen and mixed with yours.

he caught your wrist, wrapping his other arm around you, doing what he’d wanted to do ever since the day he left you back then—holding your body close to his, he tried to remember every bit of detail of how your body fit perfectly in his arms, how it felt so right holding you, and never wanting to let go.

his tongue slipped past your lips, dancing with yours in a slow waltz as if silently apologizing for not having done this earlier.

you moved your arms to wrap around his torso instead, guiding him onto the bed where you lay, and he knelt with one knee between your thighs, hovering over your body as he kissed you.

it were as though a little voice in your head continued to chant it’s mikey! he loves me! he loves me too! in disbelief, and you grew so tired of the incessant chatter that you let yourself go, leaving your mind blank as you entrusted yourself to mikey.

“can i?” he whispered, pulling slightly at the loosened strap of your sleep tank.

you nodded, studying his face up close as you hadn’t been able to do for over two decades.

“you’ve aged,” you laughed softly, rubbing gentle circles into his cheek with the pad of your thumb.

“because i missed you too much,” he replied simply, nothing but sincerity shining through his dark eyes.

that silenced you, and you merely lay there, letting him push your strap down your shoulder as he leaned down, pressing featherlight kisses down the line of your neck and collarbone.

his breath tickled you, and you trembled beneath him, prompting him to stop in concern.

“is this okay? should i stop?” he asked, searching your eyes for an answer to an unspoken question.

you shook your head. “it’s nothing, don’t worry—i’m just… i’m just happy.”

the relief was evident in his face, and he attempted to hide his smile by burying his face in the crook of your neck, cradling the back of your head in his palm.

“i’m sorry for not telling you earlier, the moment i met you,” he confessed. “i wanted to, especially since i didn’t even know that the other girl was going to be you. but i thought that maybe telling you would fuck things up, and i didn’t want to risk not seeing you again.”

you squeezed his shoulder tight, understanding.

“i get it, mikey,” you said, smiling inadvertently at the way his childhood nickname slipped so easily from your lips. “nothing’s changed in the way i feel for you. i love you, still.”

his face burned, and he stayed silent, his mind and chest bursting with so many feelings that he had no room left for words. instead, silently he continued to pepper your skin with kisses, peeling away the blanket that separated your bodies.

you gasped lightly as the cool air rushed around your bare skin, his hand gliding along the line of your waist to hitch under the hem of your tanktop, resting finally at the area just below your rib cage.

if he was going to be honest, he was afraid to touch you still. afraid to make a wrong move, afraid to scare you away and afraid to ruin this golden chance he had at pursuing the lifetime love that he’d tried so ardently to lock away.

sensing his hesitation, you took his hand in yours and guided it up to your breasts, entangling your other hand in his hair.

he understood, rolling your pebbled nipple between his fingers, blood rushing to his cock at the sound of your pitchy breaths. his other hand dipped below the waistband of your shorts, tugging at them delicately until you lifted your hips, allowing him to pull them down, exposing your panties.

mikey lifted his head, drinking in the sight of your nearly naked body beneath his. on so many restless nights—nights that he couldn’t say he was particularly proud of—he’d imagined what it would feel like to finally have you, finally have confessed and finally be able to love you, all of you like he’d always wanted to do.

shyly, you tugged too at his shirt, a cute attempt at lifting it over his shoulders.

chuckling, he sat up and pulled it off in one go, leaving you slightly stunned, unable to string any words together as you examined the gentle ripples his muscles made each time he moved. silvery scars lined his skin here and there, littering his chest and even parts of his stomach.

noticing your diverted attention, he dipped down to plant a light kiss to your forehead.

“i’m okay, don’t worry. they didn’t hurt me—i’m really strong, you know.”

“oh yeah? if you’re so strong, then how’d you get these scars in the first place?” you quipped.

“what? strong people can’t get scars?” you both chuckled, and gone were your anxieties and worries.

he undid his pants, sliding them off easily and flinging them to the side in one motion, and slid your panties down your legs in the next.

“so pretty,” he breathed, unthinkingly bringing his finger down to your wet slit, gathering up the juices that had started to pool and staring at the way it strung to his fingers even as he pulled away.

you found yourself yearning even more for his touch, biting the inside of your cheek in anticipation of where he would touch you next.

he brought his finger to his tongue, licking at the slick that remained.

“so sweet,” he continued, and your pussy throbbed at his words.

pulling down his boxers, you watched as his cock sprung free, slapping his abs.

he stroked it languidly as he bent over you, lining himself up with your dripping cunt.

“are you sure?” he asked you, darkened eyes sure to catch any hint of ingenuity.

you nodded wordlessly, lifting your hands to rest on his shoulders.

you swore that the moment he entered you must have been the most heavenly thing you’d experience, the instant in which the two of you finally got what you wanted—it felt so good, so so good that it almost felt too good to be true, and your synchronous moans filled the room, invisibly settling in the air, surrounding your bodies.

your grip on his shoulders grew tighter, your knuckles whitening from the pressure.

a whispered string of curses fell from mikey’s lips as he threw his head back, basking in the pleasure your walls brought him, squeezing and pulsing around his size.

you wrapped your legs tight around his lower back, keeping him in you, moaning as you did so.

“f-fuck, mikey,” you mewled, straining your neck from the way he filled you up.

“say it again,” he panted, hips stuttering at your words. “my name—say it again, please—”

“oh’m god, mikey—feels s’good,” you breathed, eyebrows furrowing as he continued to hit that perfect, fleshy spot inside you.

he groaned, nearly unraveling in that very second. his thrusts grew longer and harder, his balls slapping the curve of your ass with each stroke.

your nails dug crescent shapes into his shoulder blades as you cried out, the feeling of being so utterly filled up only adding to the pressure you felt in your lower stomach.

mikey pressed a thumb to your clit, rubbing soft, sloppy circles into the tight bud in hopes of hearing you cry out harder, cry out his name harder, louder, so that your voice would carry through the thin walls of your apartment and reach your neighbors, unsuspecting strangers who knew nothing of the love between you two but would know going forward that you were his, and he was yours.

“s-so tight,” he muttered, as if in disbelief. “so good, all f’r me, all mine, right love?”

you nodded desperately, heat flooding over your entire body as you felt that knot in your stomach threaten to burst.

one particularly hard thrust later, and you broke, melting into a puddle in his arms, coming undone in the overwhelming pleasure of your orgasm.

he held you tight, fucking you even through your spasms, hoping to draw out every last moan and mewl you had left inside you.

your pussy fluttered around him as he fucked you through your high, squeezing and pulling him in deeper each time he attempted to pull out, and he was unsure of how much longer he could possibly last.

“mmnh—! ‘s too much, too much mikey,” you gasped, your whole body left trembling.

but he paid you no attention, rutting into you ruthlessly just so he could hear the squelch of your pussy sucking him in one more time.

he lowered his head to latch onto your nipple, sucking and massaging your breasts with his hand, wiping your mind entirely blank.

“mik—mikey!” you whined.

“what’s wrong, pretty girl?” he cooed, lifting his head from your chest. “let me show you how much i love you.”

once again burying his head in your chest, he continued to pump into you, chasing his own release.

“you’re so fucking wet,” he said, his voice feverish and nearly delirious. “can’t believe i finally get to have you, get to do what i’ve been dreamin’ of—”

the way your pussy clenches around him at his words drives him over the edge, and with a breathy whine he let go, holding you tight as his cum filled you up, painting your wet walls a warm white, his cock twitching inside with each spurt.

you wrapped your legs tight around him, keeping him in you as he whimpered, hips stuttering through his release.

and there you lay, bodies intertwined to become one, mixed juices dripping from your lips and down the insides of your thighs.

for a few peaceful moments, the only sounds disrupting the serenity of your room were those of your labored breathing and the rustling of your sheets as he brought his arm up to cradle your head once more.

“i told you already and i know you know,” he started, speaking into your neck. “but i love you, y/n, love you so much and always have.”

you stroked his hair affectionately, smiling though he couldn’t possibly see it.

“yeah, i know. and listen—i told you already ‘nd i know you know, but i love you too, mikey.”

“y/n.”

“hmm?”

“be mine? it’s… it’s all i ever wanted.”

his tone was quiet, sincere, hesitant, even, as his heart flew to his throat, anticipating your answer.

you hugged him tight, wrapping your arms around his torso and squeezing him impossibly harder.

“is this you renewing your marriage proposal?” you giggled.

“you remembered that?” he asked bashfully, after a beat of silence.

“how could i forget? did you!?”

“no, no, just surprised is all.” he swallowed, hoping to embed this moment forever into his memory. “well… what if i said yes?”

“like, this is a renewal of that old proposal?”

“depends.”

you broke out into a wide smile, hands balling into fists at his back.

“then what if i said yes to your proposal?”

“i’d tell you i loved you again.”

masterlist

taglist: @misslovingpearl @tsookieloopie

[djarinsbeskar]

EXPLORATION ARC: PART 3 - CRASH LANDINGS

A/N: I think I’ve read and re-read this part so many times that I’m not sure I’m fully happy with it anymore. However! I do hope you can all enjoy the latest instalment, with our lovely Din (finally) getting some well earned attention.

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 14.4k (I have no self control I’m sorry if it drags on)

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: language, (some) dirty talk, SMUT! - oral (m receiving including deepthroating and gagging), handjobs, fingering, Din being slightly awkward before embracing his dom side

Summary: It’s mighty hard to distract yourself from your mysterious and alluring shipmate, so why bother?

AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You could say with some confidence that most times in your life, you had smooth landings.

A small swell in your stomach as a ship glided down into atmosphere. The gentle, paced approach of land or sea, of mountains, forests and cities materializing as you descended. The gradual growth of buildings, speeders and individuals from pinpricks into distinguishable features of the landscape. A smooth landing was like sliding into a warm bath, where you only realized how good the water felt when it was lapping around your ears and soothing away the aches of a bad day; the touch down of a ship letting you bask in being on solid ground once more.

Sometimes, you admit, there were rough landings.

Your heart hammering in the back of your throat while you desperately tried to smother the creeping nervousness with every bump of turbulence or rattle of a ships’ engine. The rapidly approaching planet being anything but a welcome sight; the hollow, raw sensitivity to every noise both inside the ship and out suspending you in time before the worst passed. Rough landings to you, were like rolling down a hill as a child from a grassy knoll, the incline of which – to an adult – was nothing more than a slight slope. Chaotic in the movement as your head became dizzy from spinning, but once laying on your back and laughing breathlessly up at wispy clouds, you realized it wasn’t so very bad after all. The same could be said when a ships mechanical functions and sensors righted themselves through automation or a talented pilots guide to land… not so very bad in hindsight.

And then there were crash landings… rare but staggering in the impression they left.

Moments where you weren’t sure if you were hyperventilating or holding your breath, if up was down and if the ship you flew was evening functioning beyond alloying gravity to pull it mercilessly towards wreckage and death. Total clarity and yet, an inability to focus on any one thing as the rapid descent fogged any ability to see the ground coming hard and fast. The shrill alarms and warning lights ceaselessly reminding you of how fucked you really were. The adrenaline it inspired – having nowhere to go – could make you giddy and exhilarated despite the danger. In your life, the feeling of a crash landing couldn’t be compared to the physical; they were the sinking realization of someone falling out of love with you, of the betrayal from a loyal friend, the abandonment of a lifelong support. They were the serendipity of a chance meeting, the recognition of a hidden talent and the reciprocation of long held feelings. Crash landings were all the times you had ever been blindsided and helpless to prevent them: an embodied vulnerability.

The day you landed on Nevarro was a crash landing in more ways than one.

One being the literal – survived by the seat of your pants – landing that had you questioning Mando’s ethnicity beneath the helmet. Was he from Corellia? Or Maker-forbid, Pamarthe? Because there was simply no way, no way, that he managed to pull off that landing with one engine blown and a fleet of pirates on his tail. But he did, and you were all alive because of it. He guided the Razor Crest like it was an extension of himself, completely in control of every movement and never anything but calm as he did so.

For as long as you had known the Mandalorian, he had owned the fossil that was the Razor Crest, and now you could see why. You wanted to weep and apologise to her for every stray thought you had about how old and outdated she was. You knew a brand new gunship that people paid obscene amounts of credits for wouldn’t have survived the same strain the Razor Crest was just put under.

You had come to think of the two – Mando and the Razor Crest – as mirrors of each other; intimidating, ageless and well able to endure more than a ship – or a human body – was naturally capable of. It endeared you to both of them more than you already were.

The other proverbial crash landing you experienced that day, was the incident that preceded your less than desirable entry onto the Nevarro; the one that stripped away all pretense and ignorance that had strained your relationship with Mando in the weeks prior.

After hastily grabbing the child from his pod and staggering back up the ladder one handed as the ship shook violently to strap you both into the co-pilot chair, you didn’t have the presence of mind to notice the heavy scent still permeating the cockpit, or the slightly uncomfortable feeling of your release drying on your thighs. You couldn’t even begin to wrap your mind around the fact that Mando, that stubborn, stoic, recklessly unattainable man you had spent years patching up over and over again, had gotten you off with just his thigh and a few well placed rolls of his hips.

You were too busy trying not to panic at the prospect of dying or being captured which really, would just be your rotten luck after finally seeing the immovable control the Mandalorian exerted, waver. You were distracted from those thoughts right up to the point where the rough rasp of Mando’s voice as the pirates engaged with the Razor Crest’s commlink made your prior activities glaringly obvious. His voice, still thick and heavy with his unfulfilled released gradually morphed into a cold anger as he shut off the connection when the pirates’ demanded payment for your lives.

Of the things you came to realize about Mando since travelling with him, one of the few that surprised you was his refusal to negotiate with nearly everyone he encountered. It gave the small allowances he made when you treated him – and the many he gave the kid most days – a lot more weight. But you didn’t have time to think about that as he dodged shot after shot.

Your landing on Nevarro was a combination of whiplash, soot and precarious rocking before the Razor Crest skidded to a final, jarring stop a few meters away from the closest ship docked outside the main town entrance. Only when the ship stayed upright instead of bowling over from the momentum did you allow yourself to breathe again, grounding yourself back in the cockpit despite your stomach being left somewhere in space.

The return of your breathing and the realization that you had in fact survived, allowed the reality of what happened before to slam to the forefront of your mind.

You dry humped a Mandalorian. The Mandalorian. Him. Mando.

Like a kitten in heat… the echo of his words had heat instantly returning to your face at the memory. You remained flushed even as you attempted to distract yourself by running an unnecessary mental check on your body for injury. Apart from a small ache growing in your head from the whiplash, you were good as new. Too good if you were being honest, and the reason for that was hardly a mystery.

You ran your eyes over the child, smoothing a hand soothingly over his wrinkled head and along one of his ears to make sure he wasn’t hurt, cooing at him gently as he nuzzled back against your chest with a string of sleepy babble. He was more concerned with being woken up than the manner of your landing apparently,

“I know darling, I’m sorry I woke you,” you muttered against his head, the sheer relief that he was out of danger roiling in your stomach and made you close your eyes as his familiar scent invaded your nose while he settled back down to sleep.

As he settled, the cockpit swelled with a heavy silence, reality catching up with you both now that the distraction of pirates and possible death was gone.

The red warning lights and occasional alarm were flicked off one by one with every resounding click of a button. When you first entered the cockpit earlier that day, you struggled to keep your eyes off him and now, now your eyes focused on anything but the man who had groaned your name so sinfully. Those clicks and snaps of levers and buttons – while quiet – were the only sounds that filled the air, enhancing the silence you sat in.

Mando was tenser than before, his shoulders stiff and movements more forceful than necessary as he geared the ship down. A malicious thought surfaced momentarily that he might be regretting what happened already.

You rolled your eyes at yourself, recognizing the ridiculousness of the notion immediately; you had just spent several heart-stopping minutes being chased and shot at and only landed mere moments ago. Of course he was tense. Stars, your muscles had yet to relax from the anxiety inducing minutes before Mando finally out maneuvered them with an unfazed countenance.

But heightened emotions and the insecurities they could bring with them weren’t uncommon after an orgasm. You merely tried to keep the more ridiculous ones at bay, a benefit of maturity and age you appreciated. It allowed you to have had your fair share of purely physical relationships; one night stands and friends with benefits over the years. It wasn’t in you to get overly attached to a sexual partner after the uncertainty of the war. You were certain Mando would be no different. You appreciated sex for what it was; a release, a coping mechanism or simply just something fun to do.

Mando’s arm reached across the small distance in front of you, one final switch and silence reigned once more. He hesitated as he withdrew his hand, resting it heavily on the dash and his helmet turned marginally to look at you, your eyes instantly lifting to the visor. You cursed the damn shiny thing silently; you had never felt the lack of expressions, or small facial tells that might have given you an indication of how he was feeling more than now. The feeling of his gaze didn’t however stop the pang of arousal reawakening after being doused so suddenly before; it simmered low in your stomach now as he watched you.

Your eyes searched his visor, hopefully conveying – if nothing else – that you didn’t regret anything. A soft quirk to your lips and he released a long breath, hanging his head slightly before pushing back up to his seat. Your smile increased subconsciously; he seemed exasperated, not ashamed and that would have to be good enough for you.

It didn’t take long for the silence to turn more comfortable after that, more familiar as he stood from his seat to make his way past you, cape brushing your arm as he did so. He hesitated at the door, considering something before he left. When he evidently came to a conclusion, he turned back to look down at you, forearm resting above his head on the doorframe as he did so,

“I’ll be gone a few hours. The Guild will be by to pick up the quarries so…” he trailed off and you waited expectantly for what he was trying to tell you, “get some fresh air. We’re leaving as soon as I pick up the next batch of pucks.”

You craned your neck to keep your eyes on him and the sudden déjà vu of looking up at him wasn’t lost on either of you as a sharp exhale left the warrior. You nodded a few times to his suggestion, mulling over anything that was low or might need restocking, mind running a klick a minute before an idea sparked in your mind, making you sit up straighter in excitement,

“Mando? Is there an automated banking center here?”

Your question seemed to throw him because he didn’t answer immediately, mind more pleasantly distracted by your appearance,

“Why?” was his only response in the end.

“I want credits, that’s why,” you rolled your eyes in playful exasperation as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, which it was. Why else would you go to a bank?

“The New Republic pay a pension for anyone who served in the Rebellion. It gets fed into an account that can be accessed from most galactic banking centers,” you explained, excited by the possibility of actually having your own credits and being able to contribute rather than living off the credits Mando earned from his bounty hunting.

“Oh,” came the lackluster response, “I don’t know. I’ve never used one before,” he finished simply, dropping his arm from the doorframe and turning to make his way down into the hold without another word.

You deflated a bit in your seat before perking up. No. ‘I don’t know’ wasn’t a negative answer, just an unhelpful one. You chuckled quietly so as not to disturb the child sleeping again you, he was still no better at talking than when you first met him. Perhaps it was simply a case of not being able to teach an old Massiff new tricks. Funnily enough, you didn’t think he needed to. You were adapting well enough to his silence as it was.

You could find out for yourself. You were dying to get off the ship and it was the perfect excuse to explore a new town for the precious few hours you had planet-side, a chance to stretch your legs and get some much needed fresh air. It was also a much better alternative to sitting on the ship and replaying the last few hours in your head, working yourself up over a husky voice and a hard body.

No, that would just drive you mad.

Since he left the cockpit, some of the heat left with him and you were able to lean back and take a long, deep breath. Fuck… but he was still able to get to you without even trying, you admitted yourself as you closed your eyes. You didn’t even have the chance to touch him beyond that momentary glance against the smooth, burning length of him. You never believed in karma before, but you must have done something truly rotten to have been stopped from touching that man.

A warmth filled you at the thought of how good he felt under you; the promise of more taken away before either of you had a moment to think. You felt wrecked from the orgasm he gave you and that hadn’t even required the removal of clothing, let alone his hands or cock.

But he hadn’t finished.

Your brows furrowed at the thought, along with a small swell of guilt in your stomach. You considered yourself to be a generous lover and wouldn’t cheapen the sentiment of wanting him to feel satisfied by thinking you owed it to him. You wanted to make him feel good, knowing the bliss someone else could give you was infinitely better than one’s own hand. You wanted to preen with the knowledge that you could bring this man, this immovable force to his knees in ecstasy.

You wanted to make him feel that good now, not later.

Steeling your nerves, you gracelessly wrestled yourself out of your seatbelt, hindered by the loss of one arm that supported the child. Finally free, you followed the same path the Mandalorian took down the ladder (equally as inelegant but climbing a ladder was awkward with two hands let alone one so you forgave yourself). You hurried over to the child’s over-pram and, once he was tucked in and the pram itself closed, turned to where you had glanced Mando preparing to leave.

He was adjusting something on his vambraces’ control panel, so he hadn’t acknowledged your presence yet, but when he picked up the control that opened the ramp down, you opened your mouth,

“Mando!” you called just before he lowered the ramp onto the lava flats that made up the improvised spaceport on Nevarro.

Your voice stopped him in his tracks, and he turned his head slightly to indicate you had his attention.

Your feet were moving before you knew it, rounding in front of the warrior and removing the push-button control that hung from the wall of the Razor Crest; obviously, a temporary fix that had become a permanent solution. The remote fell easily from his grip when your fingers caressed the back of the hand that held it, your gaze never leaving where you hoped his was behind the visor.

You kept your hand on his as he lowered it down to his side, enjoying the tactile sensation of the buttery leather of his gloved fingers as they netted across your own before you pulled your hand away just far enough to trace along the duraweave at his hip and across the softer, more flexible ribbed armor on his abdomen.

“I—need to check the damage to the ship,” he rasped quietly after the control clattered loudly back against the wall it was attached to, no bite in his words as you stepped into his personal space. As expected, he didn’t move, your eyes searching for any indication of discomfort in his body language and – finding none – drifted down his body appreciatively, a knowing smile dancing across your lips.

“Gotta… collect the payment for---” he trailed off when your fingers returned to where they had been before you had been interrupted in the cockpit. His words petered off on a low exhale and you hummed in approval when you felt he was still half-hard under his flight suit.

“I don’t just take, Mando,” you said quietly so as not to break the little bubble you found yourself in with the Mandalorian. You were almost gentle in your cadence, as if anything louder would spook the intimidating man. Something inside you told you that his acceptance of your touch was no insignificant thing, not to him. You couldn’t pinpoint the reason, whether it was his devotion to his Creed he mentioned or some other personal reasons. Whatever it was, you didn’t take the liberties he afforded you lightly.

You wanted to make him forget his reservations, completely.

Your fingers easily undid the fly at his crotch and fit inside to wrap around the thick girth of his rapidly hardening length. Your stomach flipped at the sheer size of him, making you swallow while Mando braced his forearm on the wall behind you, folding over you slightly from his greater height. The deep sigh he released, a shuddering sound of relief and pleasure spread electricity across you, your body instantly reacting to the guttural sound instinctively. You gave his cock an experimental squeeze as you pulled him out from his flight suit in the hopes of hearing that noise again.

But Maker, your mouth watered when you finally tore your eyes from his helmet to his exposed length.

Rich, tan skin stretched taut across the thick length of his cock as it sat heavy in your grip, a shade darker than the skin you had seen while treating him before. Pearly precum was already beading from the blunt, swollen tip and your thumb automatically swiped through it to spread over the head. You reveled in the low moan you heard in your ear as Mando’s head dropped forward to rest on your shoulder, a shaky inhale making his shoulders shudder.

“It’s okay?” you whispered, needing to be certain. The immediate nod against your shoulder settled the last of your reservations and you gave him a long stroke in return. You wondered briefly if the dryness of your hand was uncomfortable so, releasing his cock briefly, you spat on your palm before wrapping it back around the base and started stroking him steadily.

“Fuck…” his voice was barely above a whisper, his cock heavy and rigid in your fist that barely managed to close around him as you squeezed him firmly.

Stars, he felt divine. All hard ridges covered in velvet skin, a hot pulsing weight in your hand that made you chew on your lip as you imagined the size and weight of him on your tongue or the sweet sting of him stretching your cunt around him. He was bigger than you had had before, and you knew you would probably feel him for days afterwards.

He twitched under your grip, but apart from the occasional shiver and low groan in your ear, he allowed your hand to explore and learn this part of him at your own pace. Your free hand skirted down his side to gently draw his tight balls out too and when you massaged them in your palm, you received a gravelly moan in your ear. It was followed by a heady rasp in that language you still couldn’t place; the sound of it running down your spine pleasantly and making your body react viscerally, your nipples peaked and sensitive against the material of your chest band and wetness soaking your underwear again.

His shoulders sagged as the tension began to bleed from his body, his helmet turning on your shoulder to watch your hand stroking his cock rhythmically.

You were throbbing with renewed arousal from just the feel of velvety steel in your hand and from hearing those low, gravelly sounds you had been thinking about for weeks. Nothing you had fabricated in your mind came close to the reality; deep and rich, they rumbled through his whole body until you could feel their echoes in your own.

Twisting your wrist on an upward stroke, his hips snapped forward and a groan left him. His free hand unexpectedly lifted to grasp the side of your neck, his staunch control wavering. His fingers spread around easily to tangle in the hair at the base of your neck to anchor himself and you had to bite down on your lip hard to keep from moaning at the sound of him panting your name in your ear. Your eyes fluttered closed when he tightened his fingers, holding your head in pace as you increased your pace to match his hips, random twists of your wrist making him curse and groan your name desperately.

“Fuck… kitten, don’t--- fuck, don’t stop,” he panted against the side of your head, the words interspersed with quiet moans as his control continued to bend, his hips thrusting shallowly into your hand as he chased the release that he had been denied earlier. You tightened your grip and it made him practically shake with pleasure. You were only using the weeping precum leaking from his head to smooth your hand along his length but Mando didn’t seem to mind the dry friction that tethered on discomfort. He seemed to like the added sensation that made his cock throb and his mind cloud with a primal desire to fuck.

“You feel so good, Mando…” your own voice was nothing short of a moan itself, heat gathering at your core and reminding you of how empty your pussy was. But you wanted to finish him first, to bring him to the height of pleasure like he deserved before you considered your own release again. The next time you got off, you wanted to feel him completely overwhelm your body with his own, whether that was with his cock or his fingers or hell, even his thigh again. Whatever he would give you.

You massaged his sensitive head at the thought, your cunt clenching. His fingers flexed in your hair, tugging on the strands and pulling a soft gasp from your lips as he lifted his head enough for the cool beskar to press against your forehead. Your eyes flickered frantically across the visor, the strength of his fingers tangling in your hair making your lips part,

“Fuck, you want more already, don’t you?” he growled with a hitch in his labored breathing when your thumb circled the head of his cock again. You didn’t try to hide the way he was making you feel, there was no point with the desire written plainly on your face.

Drunk on the heady, heavy scent of arousal that filled the hold, you nodded desperately to his question and released his balls to run your hand along the perfectly polished beskar on his chest, the warrior shuddering as if he could actually feel you through the armor,

“I want you…” you purred against his helmet before sinking your teeth into your bottom lip when he groaned.

His hand loosened in your hair, fanning up over your cheek and across the edge of your jaw before he cupped it roughly. His thumb swiped across your bottom lip to release it from the hold your teeth had it in. He repeated the motion, slower this time to savor the pillowy softness of the flesh before pressing his thumb into your willing mouth, the fingers he had around your jaw tightening to encourage your mouth to open for him.

You accepted the supple leather eagerly, letting it rest on the flat of your tongue before you closed your lips around it, the stagger in his shallow thrusts and the sharp, distorted exhale through his modulator telling you just how affected he was.

You moaned around his thumb when he pushed it deeper into the warm cavern of your mouth, letting your tongue circle it before sucking on it hard, showing him exactly what you were imagining doing to his cock and eyes still trained on the black shine of his visor. Your mind was filled with the sounds of his raspy groans and the quick drag of your fingers of the soft skin of his cock. You matched the pace of your hand as you sucked on his thumb and when he pressed closer to you, caging you against the wall, you arched against him and keened under his movements.

“You’re fucking filthy, aren’t you?” he muttered breathlessly and slightly awed, as if he had come across something so unexpectedly amazing when he hadn’t even been looking, “you wan---”

He was cut off as his commlink came to life.

“Mando! You ever going to come out? What’s taking so long?” the crackled, disembodied voice sounded from his vambrace, your eyes widening slightly before you deviously picked up the speed with which you stroked him.

Mando hissed, his helmet falling back on his shoulders at the pleasure that set every nerve in his body alight. He pulled his thumb from your mouth but kept his grip on your jaw firm,

“Dangerous game you’re playing, kitten,” he panted, his voice strained as you felt him twitch and grow harder in your grip if it was possible, the thrill of danger you both felt at someone else’s presence turning you both on more than you anticipated.

You ignored his words and watched him from under heavy lashes with a cheeky glint in your eye, “Aren’t you going to answer that?” your question was saccharine sweet, as if you didn’t have your hand wrapped around his thick cock.

Playing Mando at his own game – challenging him – might have been a stupid move, but he had you riding his thigh that very day and now you wanted to even out the playing field. You ached a brow when he didn’t respond, your hand slowing to a stop on his cock even as his fingers dug into your jaw. With a vicious snarl in his own language, you knew you had him beat and started stroking him again as a reward.

“You’ll regret this,” he promised darkly when he released your face to press the connection link on his vambrace currently braced against the wall above your head,

“Looking after the kid, won’t be---” his head snapped down when you sank to your knees now that you were free from his hold, eyes sparking with mischief while you tried to smother the smile that turned your lips up when you looked up at him,

“Don’t you dare,” Mando hissed down at you, even as his head feel forward against his arm when your tongue flicked out to glance across the tip of his cock, a choked moan caught in his throat.

“Dare? Dare what?” Confusion was evident in the booming yet jovial voice on the other end of the link.

“N-nothing Karga. The kid…. The kid is just somewhere he shouldn’t be,” he directed the emphasis down at you as you lapped around his head teasingly, giving him a taste of the soft, wet heat of your tongue and only a taste.

“Ah! Bring him out! I’ve missed the little womprat.”

“Just give me----”

Mando cut the connection off on a loud moan as your lips suddenly engulfed the head of his cock, your own moan at the salty precum on your tongue making you salivate and lap up every drop. Maker, he was big. You circled the head with your tongue a few times and pulled your mouth off him after a few wet suckles so that you could lick a thick strip along the underside, eyes still shining with mischief despite the dark lust clouding them as he shook above you.

Fuck, he was so sensitive. A rush of arousal pooled low in your stomach and you moaned around him when you took him into your mouth again and sucked on the head while stroking the rest of his length. You would have to get used to his size before taking any more of him. But damn, if your eyes weren’t bigger than your belly and you let him sink deeper once, getting about half of him along your tongue before you felt yourself gagging.

“Stars, yes—” he groaned, the tight heat of your mouth making him want to sink his cock as deep as it could go before you pulled off him with a gasp, your saliva making his length glisten.

Neither of you had the time to dawdle; you could feel the coiling tension radiating from him as he dropped his hand to card his fingers through your hair. You could have spent hours kneeling there with his cock in your mouth, happily keeping him on the verge of pleasure, but he needed to go sooner rather than later. Reluctantly, you gave the tip one last lick before using your saliva as lubrication to stroke him quicker when you stood back up, his hand never leaving the back of your head.

“Tease--- fucking tease, always---” the staccato of his speech was dotted with more frequent rumbling moans and when he bit out a curse as your fingers massaged along the thick vein under his cock, he dropped his head back to your shoulder, the space between you reducing to only as much as your hand needed to jerk him off.

“You can get me back later, Mando,” you purred, squeezing the head lightly, “but right now I want you to cum.” Your free hand went back to palming his balls, rolling them between your fingers and you could feel them tightening in your hold. Your cunt clenched needily when the Mandalorian actually whimpered.

He had slipped back into his native language as he muttered darkly in your ear and even if you didn’t understand the words, the rasp and sinful promise in them as his tone became more and more desperate was enough to make another gush of wetness drench your pussy.

You knew it hit him the moment his spine went rigid, and he choked on a gasp, his hand tightening almost painfully in your hair reflexively. You slowed your pace with a whimper, lazily stroking him through his orgasm as several thick ropes of cum splattered against your jacket, the rest coating your hand as it dribbled down his cock.

His breathing returned in short, stagnant gasps, his arm taking most of his weight while his forehead rested heavily on your shoulder as he recovered. He hissed tiredly, pushing your hand away when the overstimulation made his spent cock twitch even as it softened. It gave you the perfect opportunity to lift your hand and delicately swipe your tongue along your finger to taste him. Slightly salty and a bit sharp, you sucked the finger into your mouth with a hum and let your eyes drift closed at the taste.

A long groan pulled your eyes open again to see Mando lifting his head lethargically from your shoulder, tilted down to watch you clean your fingers of his release,

“Don’t waste any, kitten,” he rumbled, his voice rougher than usual and you felt a swell of pride at the fatigue you heard in it. His hand wrapped back around your wrist to lead your other fingers to your mouth, as if to be part of this ritual of you eating his release. You were only too eager to lap each of them clean, eyes heavy-lidded as you sought his invisible gaze. His chest was still heaving from his release, breathing labored and he looked absolutely wrecked.

You moaned your approval at his taste, enjoying his eyes on you as you did so. You spread your fingers and turned them to rest against his chest and he hummed a “good girl” as he fingers released your wrist to trace up along your arm and across your collarbone lazily, curious in their exploration as though he had never thought to take the time to simply touch for the sake of touching. He probably hadn’t, you realized when you thought about it a little deeper.

His fingers roamed up along the column of your neck and settled there, flexing before they relaxed into a content hold that made you lean into the solid weight of his caress,

“Be here when I get back,” he rasped, fingers spreading to spear up through your hair at the base of your neck for a brief moment.

He only released you when you nodded, mesmerized by the lights that caught on his visor and the shine of his unpainted helmet.

And then his hand dropped and the overwhelming heat and presence of his body leaning over yours was gone. A single input into his vambrace and the child’s hover-pram followed him dutifully. You leaned back against the wall to gather your own breath that you seemed to have lost and pressed the forgotten control button to release the ramp for him and when it flattened on the lava fields below, he offered you a nod before wandering down to his… welcome party?

You snorted on a laugh to yourself, turning back into the bowels of the ship to shower and get changed before going out yourself.

That’s a first.

  You wasted no time stripping out of your clothes, flushing slightly at the stains on your jacket and pants from Mando’s release. You showered without washing your hair to save time and pulled on a new pair of pants along with a cream, loose linen top. For warmer climates like Nevarro, you were glad you had picked up the piece despite not wearing it often. You liked the feeling of not having layers of fabric clinging to you, the wispy soft length of the fit caressing rather than constricting and the dip in the neckline was tastefully offset by a string tied across your collarbones that gave it a breath of femininity. You stretched your arms above your head and enjoyed the occasional brush of the material on your back before you grabbed a satchel to make use of the unexpected free time you had been afforded without the child.

You greeted the mechanics setting up by the Razor Crest. Mando had obviously sorted the repairs out, whatever they entailed when he left the ship. Poor old girl was in some state after that landing but her condition wasn’t enough to wipe the content grin off your face as you walked in through the main gates with a small spring in your step. Despite the slight hiccup, today hadn’t gone quite so bad as you thought.

Nevarro was an… interesting place, you came to realize after a short while walking through the ragtag streets and down dusty roads. It boasted the same clientele as most Outer Rim planets, but the place wasn’t nearly big enough or significant enough to garner the attention of anyone more dangerous than a petty thief. The presence of the Bounty Hunters Guild also had a hand in dissuading criminals from setting up on Nevarro. It was charming, in a way. But then, you always were drawn to… unconventional things.

The marketplace – when you arrived – was, in a word, chaotic. There was no clear system of stalls or shops, hardly any signage and people seemed to make do with the most uncharacteristic objects upon which to sell their wares. You had seen no less than four sabacc tables, what looked like the carcass of an old mining trolley and you were nearly certain the Jawas were using stacked stormtrooper helmets beneath a large cloth to make a very wobbly table. You hadn’t managed to confirm that one unfortunately, instead trying to garner what information you could about what each stall and shopfront sold to know where to come back to after doing a leisurely loop of the market.

People bustled here and there, chatter flowed freely, and it felt similar to when the Empire first fell; as though a great weight had been lifted from these people, excited to enjoy the liberties freedom gave them. It was infectious, and you were charmed by it; swindling Jawas and all.

You had been delighted to learn from a helpful human man tinkering with the wiring of a pit droid outside a non-descript repair shop that there was a banking center on Nevarro – a New Republic one at that – recently installed with all the changes happening on the planet.

You threw your silent thanks to the Maker that at least now you had access to your own funds and could stop feeling guilty about living off Mando’s hard earned credits. Noticing the stiffness in the man’s legs when he stood to point you in the right direction, you stalled your journey to the bank to enquire about it.

“Only age, love. Nothin’ to be done about that,” he had waved you off with a dismissive chuckle.

You smiled in return with a brief nod before you took your leave, filing through information in your head about age-related joint stiffness as you did. You simply couldn’t help yourself; you hadn’t had a patient in months and Mando was the worst possible one whenever he was injured so you indulged yourself on your way to the bank with a pain relief plan for someone who had been kind to you. Not just because he reminded you of an elderly Mirialan who complained of similar pains what seemed like a lifetime ago.

The banking center was thankfully, a straight-forward experience. A gatekeeper droid scanned your chain code and then all you had to do was select the service you required. Withdrawing the sum of your accumulated pension that had been deposited but untouched for the last few months left you with a satisfying weight to your satchel as you left and was hardly dented as you went about your errands.

After a few wrong turns and your insistence that no, you didn’t need whatever piece of junk the Jawas were trying to peddle, you managed to replenish the food supplies you felt had either been running low or knew the other two enjoyed along with a few much-needed additions to the medical kit you were building and maintaining. You even went so far as to purchase a few tools you had been without since leaving Mynock, medical and otherwise that would no doubt come in handy eventually. The medical supply store was quite well stocked on Nevarro and given the number of bounty hunters you had seen prowling; it really came as no surprise.

A few tubes of heating liniment added to your satchel along with the other bags you carried, and you returned to the repair shop to hand them to the elderly man there. Your hastily demonstrated number of gentle exercises had him chuckling at you good naturedly and an hour later, you were still chatting over tea and some sort of oat biscuits.

 “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked conspiratorially when you had first sat down gingerly to accept the mug he slid over to you. The question had made you laugh,

“What makes you say that?”

He hummed in contemplation around a bite of his biscuit before pointing what remained of the biscuit at you, “Folk ‘round here are too caught up in their own lives, they don’t be worryin’ about others.”

“It could also be because I’m a medic, no?” you aired your thoughts aloud after a sip of the fragrant tea, a mix of what tasted like ginger and something floral.

“Ah, but you’da charged me if you were workin’ here,” he tapped his nose, a fond wink thrown in for good measure, “go on so, where are you comin’ from then?”

You weren’t able to stop the bubble of laughter that rose, “Pamarthe, for my sins,” you admitted.

“Ah!” he clapped a hand on his knee jovially, “A Pamarthan! Great pilots. Great drinkers!” he chortled, and you snorted into your cup on a laugh, nailed it. You chuckled as you took two biscuits off the table with a small explanation that they were for a child you were looking after. That led you to fielding questions about if the child was yours, but you were able to skirt away from that topic with a well-placed question,

“So, have you ever been to Pamarthe?”

“Me? No, no not with the Empire. Very hard to travel back in those days, very hard. Now, well. I’m not the lad I once was, love. Can’t be off planet hoppin’ anymore at my age. But a few of your people have been known to pass through here, like you.” he explained while you nodded along politely.

“Mores the pity, I can imagine you’d like it. It’s… very different to Nevarro,” you admitted with a glance around the bustling crowds kicking up ash and soot from the extrusive ground underneath. The temperate climate of Pamarthe brought grass and mud, not rock and ash.

“Is it true that all the islands are connected with rope bridges? And not something more modern?”

Your eyes widened pleasantly, the same rush of warmth anyone experienced when faced with the welcome surprise that someone knew about their homeland while not being native themselves,

“You do know your stuff!” a wistful smile broke out on your face at the thought, “and you’re right. It’s just always been that way,” you shrugged, “I’ve never really thought about why some of the old ways were kept; technology is used to prevent erosion of the islands themselves after all.”

“Remarkable, isn’t it? The things we miss that are right under our noses. Simply because that’s the way they’ve always been.” he hummed sagely, and you couldn’t help but agree.

And on your conversation went. It was refreshing, to have a conversation again. You had gotten so used to one-sided chattering on your part to the child and the simple answers from the Mandalorian that didn’t invite any more speaking than necessary.

This was nice, it was a change from the norm. But a part of you started to long for the quiet hum of the ship the longer you stayed away. Perhaps it was down to being unaccustomed to the prolonged sensory overload between the bustling crowds and loud bartering that had you eager to get back, and not just the thought of seeing a roguish warrior who seemed to embody the safety silence could provide. At least, that was what you tried to convince yourself of anyway.

So, bidding your new acquaintance a good evening along with a stern instruction to do his exercises that held no real bite, you left, your pace a little quicker than could be described as casually strolling, “be here when I get back” echoing in your mind and setting flurries of anticipation off in your stomach.

Life still seemed to go on even as the suns in the sky began to age and the shadows they cast on the low buildings and narrow streets shifted. There was still plenty of activity and you casually ruminated on where all these people went when the day was done as you reached the Razor Crest. The Guild had finished unloading the quarries in the time you had been away, and the engine seemed relatively repaired if your untrained eye was anything to go by. Lowering the ramp, you lugged the progressively heavier bags back up into the hold and unpacked them merrily; the outing and the fresh air had done wonders for you a world of good.

With the last of your supplies tucked away under the galley counter, you found yourself with nothing to do. Dismissing the thought of making something to eat after just eating biscuits, you found yourself climbing the ladder to the cockpit instead.

Chewing your lip contemplatively once there, you gingerly sat in the pilot’s chair before you could talk yourself out of it and took in the sweeping view of lava flats as far as the eye could see from this higher vantage point.

Honestly, you chided yourself internally, it’s a chair.

But in the same way you would never sit in your mother’s favorite seat at the table, where the view of the vast ocean framed by towering cliff edges of far off islands was best – even when empty – you still hesitated before you relaxed into the large seat.

Maker, was it always this big? It seemed much narrower when he sat in it… but with space on either side between you and the armrests, you were once again reminded of the size of his presence, unconsciously and perhaps foolishly dwarfed only by your familiarity with seeing him so frequently. You remembered how big he was on your examination table when he had been poisoned. The table had groaned under him and while you had seen taller, you had seen broader, his was the aura that told you he could put every inch of height, every pound of weight to better use than anyone larger or stronger than himself. Heck, even a Houk warlord hadn’t stood a chance against him.  

Your fingers ran along the sturdy leather of the armrests, the dry fabric catching the pads in their exploration and reminding you vaguely of a tookas tongue, an abrasive yet gratifying sensation on your softer skin. Your muscles sagged as you relaxed further, the trepidation of being somewhere you shouldn’t be beginning to melt away and causing your head to rest back.

You enjoyed the tactility more with your eyes closed, the deprivation of sight transforming your awareness of the leather beneath your fingers; the shallow veins of aging cracks along the material, the dips where more pressure was repeatedly placed when the Mandalorian sat here and the small fraying of the stitching at the seams. It became a map under your fingers, with rivers and valleys and mountains and you lost yourself in the idle relaxation it brought to you.

So immersed in your tactile exploration, your ears didn’t pick up on the ramp lowering, nor the presence that paused in the doorway of the cockpit, startled at first before he relaxed against the side of the doorframe, admiring the sight before him where he could leisurely take you in while you were caught unawares.

“Planning on stealing my ship?” his voice came out rougher than either of you anticipated and your eyes immediately snapped open to look over your shoulder from where you sat, lips parted in a surprised ‘o’ and looking very much like you had been caught.

You took him in from your position and, after running your hand along the armrest to find the correct button, swung the chair around to face him. You were quite comfortable where you were and didn’t fancy getting up despite your prior hesitation. One leg crossed delicately across the other, you rested your chin on a propped-up hand with a grin,

“If I wanted to steal your ship, I’d have gotten it months ago,” you teased, the familiar ground you had somewhat lost with him over the last week making a welcome return, “you’d have never even known.” you finished confidently with a wink.

Mando said nothing for a moment, assessing your words and mannerisms, “You think you could steal a bounty hunters ship from right under his nose and not get caught?” he hummed, his disbelief evident in his dismissive tone, “Please.”

“No?” you tapped your fingers along your cheek where they rested, “You seemed pretty out of it after I had your cock in my mouth,” you threw at him casually, tone light as if you were merely discussing what you wanted for dinner, smirking at the surprised choke it pulled from him, “probably be pretty easy for me then, wouldn’t you say?”

His body stiffened as he collected himself at the abruptness of your words, fingers flexing on his arms where he had them crossed across his chest and head shifting to look away from you before his visor refocused itself on where you sat,

“I don’t think you were much better, kitten,” his husky voice was deeper than it had been, thicker.

Your stomach fluttered at that stupid fucking nickname, the rolling rasp of it on his tongue only enhanced by the natural lilt of his accent. Your flare of temper gave him the time to push off the wall and saunter over in that arrogant way you hated as much as loved and pressed a hand to the back of the seat by your head,

“I think sucking my cock got you wetter than riding my thigh, didn’t it?” he rumbled, as though his question was merely a token gesture, used to amplify the truth in the statement that came before it, “I don’t think you’d be able to do anything, let alone steal my ship.”

It was your turn to be flustered now, dammit. You had the high ground for all of two minutes before he effortlessly flipped the control. Your body thrummed with how close his was but not one part of him even brushed against you; not the coarse fabric on his arm where it was braced on the seat, not the solid beskar on his legs against yours, nor his helmet against your forehead as he leaned over you. Touch was not a language Mando knew well beyond violence, but he was well aware of how to use his body to intimidate… to dominate… to captivate.

Your eyes stayed on his visor, focusing your attention on breathing normally and to not let the effect he had on your body show. You could feel the heat of his gaze running down your face, over the exposed skin at your collarbones and down the light material of your shirt. The appreciative grunt slipping through his modulator had your thighs clenching together instinctively as the craving you had been distracting yourself from all day reignited with a soft gasp when gloved fingers traced over the bend of your knee that sat crossed over your leg.

“Take these off,” he muttered, patting your thigh once as his fingers traced up from your knee, running them along the outer seam of your pants before pulling his hand away as though it had never touched you and rested it on his belt expectantly as he looked down at you, “I want to see how wet sucking my cock makes you.”

His crass words, so unlike his usual stoic statements were characteristically blunt but filled with a vulgarity that simultaneously shocked you and turned you on. For such sinful words to fall from the mouth of a man who kept his thoughts and emotions in a chokehold, there was a thrilling sense of depravity that exceeded the fact that you had gotten each other off already today.

You leaned back languidly against the pilot’s chair, watching him leisurely as he stood over you and made no attempt to hide the way your eyes trailed down his body. You rode his thigh and sucked his cock already; was there really any point in trying to hide your attraction to him anymore? Life was too fucking short.

“Are you asking me to go down on you again, Mando?” you purred, loving the virility in his tone; there was nothing you loved more than an insatiable lover, it boded well for him being able to keep up with you.

“I’m telling you that if you don’t remove them now, you won’t be allowed to.”

There was a barely restrained thread of anger surfacing in his voice, possibly the residual effects of making him answer the commlink from his contact in the Guild while you had your hands and mouth on his cock, but instead of the spark of fear your instinct would usually alert you with, a trickle of desire kissed your senses instead.

“An interesting punishment,” you hummed, fingers toying with the waistband of your pants, “given that you’d be missing out as well.” Even as you said it, you were uncrossing your legs. He pushed back a pace or two from where he loomed over you to give you room or to get a better view, you didn’t know. Lifting your hips from the seat, you shimmied the form fitting material over your ass and down your legs, kicking the material off one foot before the other, panties staying on.

His helmet snapped up from the smooth skin of your legs to your face and, in a move that had a sense of déjà vu settling over you both, you reclined back comfortably against the chair again, your eyes dancing with the same challenge he had thrown to you on Klatooine.

The pants can come off, but the underwear stays on.

For now, you told yourself, but he didn’t need to know that right away.

The warning growl he emitted was the sweetest response you could have wished for. Revenge after all, was better served ice cold.

Your move. Your eyes dared him with a glimmer of amusement and a quirk of your brow even as a knot of anticipation began to curl in your stomach.

He surprised you by sitting in the co-pilots chair you usually occupied after a tense few seconds, leaning back into the leather, relaxed.

You frowned, breaking the nonchalant façade you tried to deceive him with as your mind scrabbled to figure out what he was planning. You hadn’t anticipated him sitting away from you and simply watching you. You were about to question him when your lips parted as the hand resting on his thigh lifted to palm himself through his flight suit slowly.

Your teeth dented your bottom lip, shifting yourself in the seat while your eyes immediately focused on the way his hand flexed and curled around the prominent bulge and your fingers itched at the memory of his cock filling your hand.

His game, obviously, was to drive you bantha-shit insane, because the moment he unzipped his fly to pull himself from the tight confines of the flight suit, already hard and leaking, you wanted him.

You’ll regret this…

The growl reverberated in your mind from hours before. He was using the very thing you had used against him, on you. Your eyes glazed over as they followed the steady path of the Mandalorians fist as he stroked himself, small grunts the only sounds he seemed willing to let you hear.

You swallowed, heat rose to your cheeks and your skin becoming uncomfortably hot. It made you increasingly aware of your own arousal as you remembered the weight of his cock in your hand, the pulsing length of him on your tongue… your tongue peaked out to taste your bottom lip, all traces of his earlier release unfortunately gone.

Your eyes darkened when a quiet groan was picked up by the modulator, his head dipping with a ragged breath as his thumb swiped over the swollen head. You had to stifle a moan of your own when you recognized that the movement of his hand was mimicking yours, twisting momentarily on the upward stroke and squeezing as it came back down to the base.

Your idle fingers itched to touch yourself and one hand began subconsciously moving between your thighs as they spread enough give you space. But the Mandalorians sharp eyes – even clouded with lust – didn’t miss a thing as his head rolled around to look at you,

“Hands by your sides, kitten.”

His voice was dangerously low, thick with lust as he slowed his strokes to a lazier pace, prolonging his desire and by default, prolonging your inability to touch yourself. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke, and it made you huff indignantly, but you fisted your hands on the leather beside your bare hips nonetheless. The ease with which he gave commands, the casual control he exuded, it sent tremors of need through you, a baser side of you eager to obey even if it conflicted with your stubborn nature.

“Good girl,” he rasped with an unmistakable tease lilting his voice when you settled, “keep behaving and I’ll let you taste it.”

You hated to admit it, but the promise of having him in your mouth again was almost worth the silent torture you were being made endure now, cunt throbbing in neglect and skin humming with sensitivity. You had always been able to succeed with a mind over matter approach, with the constant knowledge that the reward was worth the work it took to achieve it but Maker, was he making it difficult.

The minutes he sat away from you felt like hours despite your resolve and the temptation to touch yourself only grew as the air grew thick with tension. Your eyes drank their fill of the warrior getting himself off mere feet away from where you sat half-naked. The sound of his hand stroking himself and those breathy exhales were going to drive you mad.

Your panties felt uncomfortable against your sensitive skin and you cursed your stubbornness in keeping them on, shifting in your seat and making yourself whine quietly when they brushed against your clit, drawing Mando’s helmet down to look at you once more,

“Take them off,” he repeated breathlessly, and you wanted to weep in thanks, eagerly lifting your hips to push the offending piece of clothing down your legs. You didn’t have time for shyness or modesty when the cool air on your bare cunt was soothing for all of five seconds before the throbbing heat made you ache with a renewed need to touch your clit, to somehow relieve the pressure. The approving groan that rumbled from the Mandalorian was a stroke to your ego as you spread your legs for him, revealing your damp folds to him and tempting him to break the rules of his own game.

“Maker, I can see how wet you are from here,” he moaned and picked up the pace of his stroking momentarily, caught up in the vision you presented him with, half naked in his pilot’s chair; you were a veritable galactic pin up girl.

You made a small noise of impatience, your darkened eyes pleading with him as your body burned under his unseen gaze.

“Tell me what you want,” he grunted, squeezing the base of his cock to slow himself down from simply getting himself off as quickly as possible as he would normally.

“Your cock,” you answered shamelessly before tagging a quiet “please?” to the end which seemed to break him just like you hoped it would.

He stood not a moment later and made the few steps to stand beside you and you wasted no time in greedily wrapping your fingers around the thick base of his cock. You turned your head so your lips could instantly wrap around the head of his cock again, beyond teasing him and addicted from the brief taste you had of it earlier in the day and making you moan around him in both pleasure and relief.

The vibrations made Mando hiss as they ran through him before his head tipped back on a moan when you relaxed your jaw to take a bit more of his length into your waiting mouth, tongue massaging as much of the underside as it could reach. You began a steady rhythm moving up and down his cock, your muscles relaxing to let him move easier along your tongue.

Your hand stroked what you couldn’t take into your mouth, using your saliva to glide your hand down to his base with a firm squeeze. You knew it would take a little time to get familiar with taking him in fully, so you enjoyed each drag of his length over your tongue and lips, along with the occasional teasing scrape of your teeth that had his breath hitching.

He gripped the headrest behind you when you pulled off him to latch your lips wetly along the length, licking and kissing your way to the base nestled among dark, trimmed hair, your hand massaging the head as you did so. The sight made you hum and lick a long strip back up the underside to suckle on the head once more. You had deduced he was probably dark haired given the beautiful tan of his skin, but having it confirmed made your stomach clench giddily.

Your eyes lifted back to Mando’s helmet when he cupped your jaw, pressing his thumb slightly against your cheek for you to open your mouth so his cock could settle back on your tongue. You moaned, taking his none too subtle hint and started sucking him off again in earnest, your saliva and his precum leaving his cock messy and wet and the sounds it made as you sank your head down on it were profane and loud in the otherwise silent cockpit.

You keened when you felt a gloved hand trace down your front, ghosting under the swell of your breast before giving it a tentative squeeze that had you whimpering around him and relaxing your throat to ease more of him into your mouth. He grunted and kneaded the soft flesh of your breasts above the thin linen shirt at the perfect heat of your mouth, learning you as you were him.

You dug your nails into the backs of his thigh to stop yourself from gagging when his tip pushed against the back of your throat, the sudden sensation making him jerk his hips forward with a gasp of your name and a hard squeeze to your breast while tears formed in your eyes. The slight burn was delicious, and the sounds he made as you took as much of his cock into your mouth as possible were even more so.

“Fuck yes…” he groaned, your mouth molten around his cock while he rocked against you shallowly, his gaze roaming your entire body and when it fell on the thin ring of ink surrounding your left thigh, his cock twitched in your mouth and caused you to pull back enough to swirl your tongue around the sensitive head before sinking back down on him to take in as much as you could.

The sound of him choking on a moan encouraged you to hollow your cheeks and swallow around him, your eyes glittering up at him with a mix of tears and teasing when he jerked his hips forward again, pushing his length that bit deeper.

“Such a… fucking filthy thing---” he moaned, releasing your breast to tangle his hand in your hair to slow your movements as you withdrew your head eagerly and sank back down on it, “but so… so fucking thorough in your examinations.”

You pulled off him, a breathless laugh leaving your mouth even as trails of saliva kept you connected to his cock and messed up your mouth and chin. You pumped him with your hand while you rested the head against your cheek,

“What did you call it again? Coercive medical attention?” your voice was hoarse, but it dripped with a lovely mix of amusement and desire.

“So long as it ends with my cock in this perfect fucking mouth, I’ll accept medical attention of any kind,” he bit out, the slight tremble in his voice when you gave him a long hard stroke was endearing in a way you hadn’t anticipated the warrior being.

“I’ll believe that when Mustafar freezes over,” you chuckled, giving his cock a squeeze for good measure before taking him back into your mouth.

“Maybe we’ll go there then---” he cursed when you let him hit the back of your throat again, “be—be the only way to shut you---” he never did get to finish that sentence, his head falling back on his shoulders with a sound that got caught in his throat when you took the remaining few inches into your mouth valiantly and swallowed hard around him, breathing deeply through your nose.

Feeling yourself start to gag, you pulled off his cock halfway, gasping around him before starting to lazily bob your head in order to get your breath back and do it again. His hand tightened in your hair but allowed you to move at your own pace. Your attention was pulled back up to him when he leaned over you slightly, a slap to your inner thigh making you moan and spread them for him eagerly.

“Fuck…” he groaned, and you felt the soft leather of a finger swipe through your folds, making you whimper. He growled something you couldn’t quite pick up with your blood pounding in your ears from that single jolt of pleasure he gave you but when you felt him again, it wasn’t the cool leather of his gloves, but the warm skin of his fingers instead.

The realization made you jump on contact with a mewl as he spread your wetness along your dripping cunt. You knew what he would find there without him having to say a word. Slick, swollen and burning with need as you keened, your sounds were muffled by his cock filling your mouth. You struggled to keep the lazy pace of bobbing up and down on his length when you forgot how to breathe from the slight calloused tips of two of his fingers spreading your slick lips and pulling a vicious growl from the Mandalorian.

“All this from sucking my cock?” his voice was labored, control razor thin as he struggled not to merely grip your head and fuck your mouth to chase the release dangling before him. It seemed every part of you was hot and wet and soft as his fingers spread through your folds and his cock buried in your mouth. Your bright, wide eyes, glassy with lust looking up at him made that struggle even harder as his hips rolled involuntarily, your cheeks hollowing and wet tongue massaging under the prominent vein pulsing on the underside of his cock.

You were addicted to the way he sounded, the ever-present discipline he exuded daily was being pulled taut as more primal urges overtook him. It was an intoxicating reminder of his humanity, of the man under the armor and the mere thought of his possible expressions beyond an impassive helmet as curses and moans and filth fell from his lips, had a wave of wetness slowly pulsing from your neglected pussy.

“Oh fuck--- fuck what, what was that--” he rasped, his fingers diving into the arousal that dripped down your open thighs and over your cheeks to the seat underneath you, making a mess. The sudden gush seemed to short circuit something in Mando, his mind struggling to focus on anything but the soaked cunt under his fingers.

When the pads of his fingers brushed over your aching clit, you cried around him, squeezing the base of his cock, and making him hiss your name; a surprised hitch that had him nearly doubled over you in pleasure. The next brush of his fingers was not as surprising, but no less intense before he began a stead rhythm of circling your clit, dipping his fingers down into your sopping folds before dragging that wetness back to soothe over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You tried to mumble something, your head foggy with the need to cum from being filled with something other than your own fingers, but his cock garbled your words, the two of you slipping into that tangled, desperate side of lust. You couldn’t bring yourself to take him out though, lamenting the loss even for a moment as you greedily tried to take more of him again, the choked gasp above the only reward you needed when your nose brushed the coarse hair at his base. It had to be a sin, to feel this good from giving someone else pleasure. Maker, you could get off just by sucking this man’s cock for hours and be satisfied.

Mando however, didn’t seem to share that sentiment and when he suddenly pushed a finger into your tight cunt, your eyes rolled closed as you both moaned in unison. Your walls fluttered and clenched around the thick, foreign digit and you felt your orgasm cresting at your sensitivity before it abated somewhat when his finger settled knuckle deep inside you.

“Stars, so tight for me, kitten--- tight and wet and fuck,” he spat as you clenched around him again at how wrecked he sounded, giving his cock a particularly hard pull into your mouth while you whimpered around him, “can just imagine, shit, imagine how tight you’ll be around my cock.” His words were almost slurring in their delirium and you knew that if you tried to speak, you wouldn’t sound much better. Especially not when he added a second finger into your pussy and started pumping them achingly slow and more controlled than he sounded.

“So big, you- your fingers--- more,” you whined after pulling his cock from your mouth to suck in a breath, the task suddenly becoming manual as you struggled to remember what came first, inhale or exhale? “I want more, always more,” you were babbling against his cock now, begging words interspersed with wet licks and kisses to the length as if you could convince him with affection to give you what you wanted.

“That’s it kitten, fuck, t-tell me what you want—” Mando was panting now, the quick jerks of your wrist along his cock, slippery from your drool and saliva making his own breathing an unbearable task as his fingers pumped inside you harder, the wet sounds filling the cockpit both mortifying and evocative, “such a greedy, hungry, smart-mouth medic I—shit.”

He almost sounded angry, the tempestuous rumble rolling from his voice like thunder, but paired with one hand roughly thrusting a third finger into you and the other carding his fingers reverently through your messy locks, you knew he was as unhinged as you were with the intensity of the pleasure you were somehow able to give each other. As if the tension that had been steadily growing from that first fateful night on Klatooine was suddenly boiling over, spilling, and hissing as it stoked the flames beneath; a closed circuit that could no longer be stopped or broken.

When his thumb began working tight, practiced circles around your clit as his fingers fucked you into the chair, you knew you wouldn’t last long. The looming pressure that had been building the moment he asked if you planned on stealing the Razor Crest was coming at you faster than a TIE fighter,

“Gonna cum, Mando--- Mando, feel so good, please---” you whimpered, grinding your hips down on his hand desperately as your orgasm drew near.

He slowed his fingers despite your protestations, and he gentled your frustration with a well-placed curl of his fingers inside you, “Shh, shh—fuck, not yet---” he started and you whined as you sucked the head of his cock back into your mouth ardently, as if somehow, that would change his mind, a mixture of saliva and precum drooling down the sides of your mouth as you messily lapped at him, “fuck… kitten--- wait.”

He pulled himself from your mouth and his fingers from your cunt, chuckling breathlessly at your frown as you glared up at him, “wait…” he purred, the sound running down your spine and across your overheated skin while he hooked one hand under your knee to drape your leg over the armrest, giving him a better view and greater access to your soaked pussy.

You shivered as he gathered some of your arousal to coat his fingers before your jaw slackened when he spread your juices along his cock – the shudder down his spine evidence of just how effected he was – until it glistened with a combination of your saliva and arousal. The visceral image of your arousal coating his cock had any last shred of control or shame disappearing, impatience taking its place.

 It was filthy, and your mouth watered at the sight of him. You dragged your eyes up to his visor slowly, eyes dark and cheeks flushed, lips parted and chin messy from your ministrations. The resounding growl he released had your cunt quivering, missing his fingers and it pulled an impatient whine from your lips as your nails raked down his covered hip.

“Mando…” you began, eyes dropping back to his cock with a silent plea.

He led his cock back into your waiting mouth, running the head along your plump bottom lip and smearing the mess already at your mouth and chin before pressing it back against your waiting tongue. His fingers immediately returned to push into you and began fucking you in earnest. The tangy taste of your own arousal mixing with his made you moan around him and your eyes flutter shut, your hips grinding down on his hand immediately once he found a rough, fast pace to bring you over the edge. You greedily engulfed the length of him, your hand stroking along the base as you hummed when you felt him get impossibly harder on your tongue.

His fingers curled against that small patch inside of you and made your hips jerk up to his rough chuckle, “there we go, good girl---” he panted, his thumb once again returning to your clit which had you practically sobbing around him with the need for release. You had orgasmed only earlier today and yet, it felt like you had been edged for weeks, months even. You were so desperate to come apart that when it did hit you, you were blindsided.

“Fuck, fuck! That’s it, kitten---” Mando pumped his fingers through your quivering walls, slower as they clamped down around him, trying to keep him inside while your cries bounced off the steel surrounding you in the cockpit and soaking his hand in your release. It kept going, for several long seconds and you were certain your brain wasn’t getting enough oxygen with how you were unable to take in a full breath and all you had to ground you, was your hand working over the solid thick length in front of you.

“So good, it’s so good---” you heard yourself babble, moaning his name like a prayer as you latched your lips to his length to drag open-mouth kisses to the shaft, hips still rocking against his hand as the last convulses ran through you, “want your cum, Mando- “

He didn’t respond, his fingers running sloppily over your clit once more as you whined with the overstimulation and tried to pull away despite being trapped against the seat,

“Another. Give me another,” he groaned, his fingers leaving no room for negotiation as they began a renewed onslaught on your sensitive nerves, already raw and frayed from coming so hard already. You shook your head even as you lapped at his head, eyes teary and unfocused as you looked up at him, “I can’t, it’s too much—”

“’More’ you said…” he released your hair to grip under your chin, pulling your head up to be pressed against his helmet, “I’m gonna… shit, I’m gonna give you as much as you need.”

His voice was strained, and you could hear it wavering the closer he got to his own release. But even in your foggy mind, you could feel the steel determination rolling off him. He wasn’t going to cum until you did. The thought alone made you whimper and despite your earlier declaration, a fresh wave of arousal pooled around his fingers as he pressed them back into you.

“Do it…” you heard yourself whisper, lowering your head enough to nuzzle the head of his cock against your cheek while he still held your jaw and you hoped you were meeting his eyes behind the helmet, “give me everything, e-everything I’ve been missing.”

His answering growl and the press of his thumb into your mouth for you to bite down on was all you could remember clearly before he built up a brutal pace once more. Your head fell back against the seat once he released you at the overwhelming friction on your swollen cunt, but Mando wasted no time in guiding your head back to his cock and with a whimper, you took him back into your mouth easily, his tip brushing the back of your throat now without hesitation as you swallowed.

His fingers stuttered while he groaned before regaining their rhythm and curling up against that spot inside you, a flick of his thumb against your clit sending flames scorching over your skin again as your release approached embarrassingly quick,

“Better than I ever imagined… this mouth—” he moaned, “you’re so wet and fuck… I bet you taste—” he was cut off on a long moan as you let him sink down your throat, breathing heavily through your nose before pulling back and repeating the action, your hands reaching into his flight suit to fondle his heavy balls once more.

You were equally determined to make him cum, a small taste earlier hadn’t been enough to satiate your craving and with a second orgasm about to overtake you, you were ravenous with the need to have him cum down your throat before you were struck dumb with the pleasure his hands would give you.

His breathless chuckle, such a foreign sound to come from him, made you want to smile had you not been preoccupied, “trying to beat me, kitten?” he asked, slowing the thrusts of his fingers so they were longer and harder, the change in pace heating you up beyond boiling point and you gave his balls a gentle squeeze in retaliation.

He was breathing hard, trying to limit his hips from thrusting into your warm mouth but even you could tell the shallow thrusts highlighted how close he was. But given his stubbornness, he doubled down on his efforts and with a final hard press on your clit and a perfect curl to his fingers your release crashed over you, less intense than the first but more surprising as it washed over you and kept you quivering and shaking under him, trying to ride it out with a silent cry. He pulled you through it once again with lazy strokes of his fingers, but they were messy, sloppy as he finally allowed his head to drop back on his shoulders, the tight leash he had on his control finally snapping,

“Yes, fuck— you want my cum, kitten?” he snarled when you nodded around his cock, eagerly pumping him and the change in his breathing told you he was nearly there.

He braced the hand that had been inside you to the back of the chair while the other tangled in your hair to keep you in place, his hips movements uneven and erratic before he stilled, your mouth opening for his cock to rest on your tongue while you pumped him.

He growled your name when his cock pulsed, a rope of cum hitting your cheek before you closed your lips around the head for him to continue coming in your mouth, the thick fluid coating your tongue and making you moan at the taste of him before you swallowed it down. You sank your lips slowly down the length of him, coating him with any residual cum in your mouth while you languidly basked in both your orgasms with a fond lick to his tip.

His shoulders lifted and fell in great rolls as he struggled to catch his breath, the heat in his invisible gaze not lost on you as you held his cock up to lick it clean languidly, reveling in every twitch you could feel in his muscles as a result.

“Maker…” he whispered into the cockpit, now filled only with your combined breathing. He hadn’t stopped stroking your hair as you cleaned his cock up, and the gentle act belied the gruff exterior he presented. It wasn’t lost on you, even if it might have been unconsciously done on his part in his post-orgasmic haze. Your leg dropped from the armrest to fold closed, and you hummed at the pleasant ache you felt once they were together despite the stickiness of your release drying on your thighs.

Once your tongue had become too much for him, he pulled back from you slightly, just enough to push himself back into his flight suit and with a fleetingly soft caress to the side of your head, he dropped back down in the co-pilot seat where he had first begun. You swiped the warm cum from your face and licked your thumb clean while you both basked in the afterglow.

His helmet tipped back against the headrest but kept it turned towards you, his chest rising and falling in large swells. You probably should have grabbed your underwear to cover up, but you were still basking in the euphoria of two breath-taking orgasms that the most you could do was stretch an arm over your head with a soft moan to release any remaining tension in your muscles, your eyes blinking tiredly at Mando all the while.

“Keep that up, and I’ll fuck you right now,” he rasped; his voice lower from how much he had used it in the last while. He didn’t speak often, but you were tickled to find out how vocal he could be when aroused.

You hummed at the thought, relaxing your arms back by your sides as an amused laugh left you, “A tempting offer, but I think my bones have been liquified.” Your words inspired another unencumbered laugh from you, still high from your orgasm and his posture adjusted slightly as if proud of putting you in this state, “I wouldn’t be much use.”

“Until next time then,”

He sat up, the smooth words making you smile tiredly at the familiar phrase. He ran his bare hand behind his neck, a lethargic groan leaving him as he tried to wake himself up from a stupor and your eyes followed the movement. The flash of tan skin made you chew your lip on a smile, knowing exactly where those fingers had been not a few minutes earlier.

You finally pushed yourself to sit up properly, toeing your underwear closer to you so you could bend and shimmy them up your legs, feeling his eyes follow the movement silently. You decided against your pants, the length of your shirt covering your modesty somewhat and you released a long, satisfied breath before turning your gaze to inky darkness that had engulfed Nevarro while you were occupied.

“Did you finish up with your Guild contact?” you posed, and he nodded once,

“Five more pucks,” he explained simply, standing from the co-pilots seat, and you wrinkled your nose, you guys would be travelling for a while, so it seemed.

“Is the kid still asleep?” you hummed tiredly, “I have biscuits for him.”

“Still knocked out from earlier. We had come back to leave when---” he trailed off to your laughter, standing up once you felt your legs wouldn’t give out from under you and turned the pilot seat back to face the viewport,

“Are you saying I made us late, Mando?” you threw over your shoulder, startled when you found him standing directly behind you, his hand falling heavily to your hips and his chest against your back while he hummed in agreement,

“Exactly. You’re as troublesome as the kid,” he murmured against your temple with a squeeze to your thinly covered flesh while you rolled your eyes at him, no heat in the action as you were more pleasantly preoccupied with the comfortable weight of his hands and the warmth that flowed from them into your body.

“Please. Go on then, get us up in the air since we’re so far behind schedule.” You pressed back against him cheekily before his head leaned back to look down at you as he pondered something for a few moments,

“You do it,” he replied simply.

You blinked, he had never asked you to fly before, excluding the time he came back injured on Scipio, and even then, he hadn’t asked. You had taken it upon yourself to do. You couldn’t help but feel that this was a tentative move on his part, a small gesture of confidence he had in you that you didn’t want to refuse.

“I’ll… check on the kid,” he continued with one last caress to your side before he released you and disappeared out of the cockpit, leaving you floundering.

Orgasms put Mando in a much better mood, you determined with a chuckle, taking a seat again and beginning the routine procedures to take you up and off the planet, running your hands back over the dry leather of the armrests fondly.

Crash landing or not, today had been a pretty good day.

 Stitches Taglist:

@geannad​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @gracie7209​ @pychedelic-star @nova646​ @theflightytemptressadventure​ @wantingtobekorra​ @computeringturtle​ @slayerette26​ @kesskirata​ @greatcircle79​ @boxdyeblonde​ @fangirl-316​ @niiight-dreamerrrr​ @tanzthompson​ @theamuz​ @the-scandalorian​ @gallowsjoker​ @helmet-comes-off​

[favefandomimagines]

Then Let Me Go (g.w.)

Summary: you’ve been with George since your third year at hogwarts and you wondered if he’d ever propose

AN: this was inspired by a season 3 episode of glee where emma talks to will about marrying her and her OCD and i switched it up and used anxiety instead which is something i deal with all the time

You and George were the epic love story. You beat the odds, survived a war and had reached a mile stone of almost a decade together.

And yet you were at a stand still. Everyone around you was either married or engaged to be married.

Fred had just gotten back from his honeymoon with Angelina, Ron just got married to Hermione and Harry proposed to Ginny two months prior.

And then there was you and George. The epic love story that was grinding to a halt. That thought alone made your anxiety and overthinking worse than it’s been.

Being a half blood, you knew what anxiety was. Your mother had it when she was your age and it was something you dealt with every day. Your boyfriend had known about your illness early into your friendship, long before you were dating.

He was always there for you but now that he was the thing causing your anxiety, you didn’t know who to turn to.

George not proposing made you second guess everything you did. Thinking that the smallest wrong thing would lead to George to admit he didn’t want to marry you.

You were beginning to feel self-conscious and almost like you not revelling in the greatness that is pre marital or post marital bliss, you were a burden.

No one who’s married or engaged wants to hang out with the only person who’s not.

Angelina’s birthday was coming up and Fred had entrusted you in planning the event. Which you said yes to because not only was she your best friend, it distracted you from the constant mental chatter.

You were sitting at your kitchen table, going through the various ideas you had for Angelina’s party.

“Hello, darling.” George greeted you as he entered your shared home. “Hi, Georgie.” You replied, eyes not leaving your plans. “Are you still planning the party?” He asked.

The redhead sat across from you as he watched you hyper focused on your work. “Uh, yes. I just want everything to be perfect. I feel like there’s something missing.” You answered.

“Y/N, it’s going to be perfect. You just have to relax.” He said. “I can’t relax, George.” You muttered, hating the way he told you to relax.

“What’s really going on? I know there’s something wrong, there has been for months.” He commented.

You stopped your movements for a moment before looking up at him.

“D-Do you want to be with me? As in husband and wife?” You questioned. “Of course I do. But planning a wedding and having kids can be a lot for your anxiety, love. I don’t want you to be in that kind of environment.” George answered.

Though his answer was caring, thoughtful and putting you first, you were frustrated by it.

“George, I’m more than just this disease that I have. Every single day is riddled with anxiety but that doesn’t stop me from pursuing the things I love. I got a job at the ministry for Merlin’s sake, despite the constant feeling of not being good enough and that I don’t deserve it.” You started.

You paused to keep your emotions in check but George knew you like an open book.

“I want to marry you, George, I want to be your wife. But if me being so irrevocably in love with you isn’t enough and you only see my anxiety, then you need to let me go. Because this whole time I’ve been watching everyone in my life have what I want. And it’s not fair to either of us to stay in a relationship that’s come to a stand still.” You finished.

You cleared your throat and stood up from the table, heading into the guest bedroom. Locking the door behind you.

George inwardly groaned has he put his head in his hands. The truth was, he had decided he was going to propose to you a long time ago but then he had a conversation with one of his old friends from school and their words got in his head.

Your anxiety would just get worse if you had to plan a wedding and having to care and worry for a child would add on to that. But he was so incredibly wrong for letting that get to him.

—

It had been a week or so since the truth was revealed and Molly had invited you and George to the Burrow for a family dinner.

You and George hadn’t really talked since that day. He made it clear to you that he didn’t want to lose you or end the relationship that you both had jumped through hoops to keep.

The conversations were the usual, normal ones. Neither you of mentioning your previous conversation but the tension was very noticeable.

The whole Weasley family could tell something was off. The extended members included. You and George were usually the couple everyone wanted to be like and now, they couldn’t be happier they weren’t.

Before dinner was ready, Molly had asked if you could help her prepare dinner. 

Now you’ve known Molly for years and she rarely asked people for help in the kitchen. The last time she did, it was holiday break and George asked you out the next day.

“Is there something going on with you and George?” She asked you. That was when you broke. No one had been upfront enough to ask you and the fact that someone had, was enough to make you let down your walls. 

“I asked him if he thought about marrying me and he basically said he didn’t want my anxiety to ruin it. I didn’t think it was that much of an issue that he didn’t want to marry me.” You cried to the woman. 

Molly wrapped you in a tight embrace and cooed you as you cried. “I don’t know what else I can do.” You added. The Weasley matriarch feared for your relationship. 

Not only had you had a positive impact on his son but her family as well. Her and Arthur saw you as another daughter and they loved you as if you were their own. She didn’t like seeing you hurt especially at the hands of her son. 

After a few minutes of her consoling you and cleaning yourself up, you helped her bring dinner out on to the table and took your ‘assigned’ seat next to George. 

He could tell you had been crying. He knew that when your eyes were a little puffy and your eyelashes were damp, that you had been crying over him.

You had three types of crying; the crying over a book, which usually involves a couple stray tears. The frustrated crying, that involved you yelling and sobbing at the same time. And the crying over a boy. Which was quiet and sad, and he knew it quite well because it had been reserved for him for the past decade.

Under the table he placed a comforting hand on your thigh and he felt you tense under his touch before softening slightly. 

Dinner soon came to an end, after the hour of grueling wedding talk and questions about when Fred and Angelina were having kids. 

Everyone could see the distant look on your face as they talked about it. The only two people who knew what was actually going on was Angelina and Ginny. 

While you were helping clean up the table with Ginny and Hermione, Molly pulled her son aside to have a much needed conversation. 

“George, what is this I hear about you not wanting to marry Y/N?” She asked. “I-I know how it probably sounded to her. I made it sound really bad. But, I do want to marry Y/N, mum. I just, don’t know how to ask her.” George answered. 

He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out the small ring box. “I’ve had the ring for a while I just couldn’t find the right time. It has to be perfect because she deserves nothing less than perfect.” He added. 

“Sweetheart, Y/N will think it’s perfect because the man she loves is asking to spend the rest of his life with her. That’s all she wants. She wants you to want to marry her, flaws and all.” Molly told him. 

George nodded his head as he looked at the ring in his hand. He quietly muttered an ‘excuse me’ to his mother before going to find you. The Burrow was important and significant to the both of you and if that wasn’t the best place, he didn’t know what would be. 

“Y/N, may I borrow you for a second?” He asked you. You looked from him to Ginny as she nodded her head and took the plates from your hand. George intertwined his fingers with yours as he led you outside. 

The two of you walked a ways away from the house, down the path of tall grass before you had come upon the clearing. The sunflowers were in full bloom around you and the air was warm, a slight breeze blowing. 

“What did you need to talk about?” You asked him, avoiding eye contact by looking at the sunflowers blowing in front of you. “Y/N, I need you to know that I love you. I have loved you since I was 14 years old and I have loved you more every day since then. You’re perfect even when you don’t think you are,” George started. 

You didn’t know where he was going with his declaration of love. “It’s like that line from that muggle poem you always say, uh what was it?” He stammered. “We loved with a love that was more than love. It’s from a poem by Edgar Allen Poe.” You interjected. 

“Yes! That’s it! You and I, Y/N, are the epic love story just like that. And that is why I want to marry you. All of you. I want to live my life with you. I want to have kids with you, preferably twins but I’ll love them all the same. My point is,” George paused, getting down on one knee. 

“Marry me, Y/N. Please.” He finished. Your answer to him was wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. He didn’t hesitate kissing you back. 

The two of you parted and George looked at you with a smile on his face. “Is that a yes?” He asked. “Of course it’s a yes.” You laughed. George laughed in relief as he took the ring out of the box and slid it on to your finger. 

[spookybias]

first time again ‣ [ yang jeongin ] ✧

pairing: yang jeongin x gn! reader

genre: comfort, angst, slice of life

synopsis: an attempt to return a love letter leads to a cycle of all too familiar events.

content: exes to almost lovers again, exes to friends au

warning: reader threatens to kill jeongin twice, insecurities, self-blame

for: @districtninewriters' dear skz, with love event. please be sure to check out all the fics written for this event! everyone in the net worked hard on them :)

word count: 2.4k

note: i want a jeongin :,)

You studied the envelope you were holding, flipping it over a few times in your hands. The quality of the paper was nicer than normal, almost like whatever was inside was more important than just a regular letter. You weren’t expecting anything, let alone anything important or special.

But it was definitely your name on the front.

You took in the minimalistic decoration of the beige envelope, mentally noting the small piece of looseleaf paper that had been torn at an aesthetic angle and taped down. Your name had been written in rainbow calligraphy on top of the looseleaf, a font you immediately recognized because your ex had used it plenty of times when decorating the tags on gift bags and appreciation cards to you. Each letter of your name casually leaked into an ombre of cool shades, and hand drawn sparkles littered the envelope.

You dreaded opening the letter, and wished you could stop feeling as blue as the ink your ex had used to write your name.

You were tempted to toss it in the trash, and bury it under the used romance novels you no longer wanted, but as quick as the urge to scream and throw away everything related to your ex had came, it had left.

Adrenaline coursed through you. Your fingertips were fast at ripping open the packaging, while your brain was hesitant to remember the pretty bleach-haired boy who had stolen your heart and then unintentionally crushed it just awhile ago.

Your ex's words were written on skyline stationary. Red and blue stripes twirled along the edges of the paper and a stamp of a smiley face followed by squiggly lines appeared at the top right corner. You were too scared to skim over a single paragraph. So you stood there, staring at the greeting instead.

I know this is sudden, ____.

Four minutes passed. And then you began to read.

You declined your group of friends' invitation to walk to the local bakery and then home with them after school. You had been holding in an immense amount of anger for your ex since you had read his letter to you last night. The letter could've easily been thrown in the trash after reading, but you couldn't help but become entangled in the words he spewed out into sentences.

It's not fair, You thought to yourself as you stomped up the stairs to the platform of the train station. It's not fair that he gets to remind me of everything and I don't get to say anything back to him. It's not fair that I have to think about why our relationship was so pretty.

"Pretty" is the word everyone used to describe the relationship you had with your ex. The both of you had taken it as a compliment back then, but now you knew why everyone referred to the two of you with such an adjective.

Pretty meant your relationship was attractive, it was pleasing to the eye on the outside, it was held at a fair degree. But what was it like on the inside? It was tame and decent, but complicated. Your ex always questioned what he truly felt for you, and it always made you wonder if you were doing something that made him doubtful.

Things had ended because you didn't want to feel more and more insecure as the days went by. It was fruitless to keep trying. Well, at least, it was to you.

"I'll kill him," you grumbled to yourself. A couple people waiting for the L train gave you a weird look. You tried to ignore their glances and the feeling of wanting to reminisce on the train ride you and your ex always shared before and after school during your relationship.

The two of you lived in the same apartment complex, but nowadays you did your absolute best to avoid him. You could've approached him there, instead, but you were so on edge you felt the need to return the letter before you got home. You had stopped taking the train a long time ago, too, desperately trying to avoid him at the train station as well. Now here you were trying to find him.

"I'll kill you!" You practically shouted at your ex. You grabbed him by his shirt collar and yanked him forward. You had forgotten what it had been like to stand so close to him, but you tried to ignore the blush that was pushing its way onto your face and the urge to pull him into a hug.

"What did I do?!" Yang Jeongin looked around awkwardly at the handful of people staring at both of you.

He was unsure of his emotions. One part of him was embarrassed by getting caught up in your sneak attack and the other part of him was happy that you were at least talking to him, even if you had just threatened his life. Jeongin was able to pry your hands -he had noticed how much smaller they were compared to his- off of him. He grabbed your hand and walked you towards an empty section of the platform.

Your heart fluttered, and when you glanced up as he pulled you along, you were seeing your surroundings in a sakura filter.

Jeongin stopped once you were at a spot without anyone around. "I-" He began to say, but you cut him off.

"Get your hands off of me!" You flailed your arms around until he took a step back.

Jeongin held his hands up in surrender. "Before you kill me, please tell me what I did."

"What is this?" You wasted no time in pulling out the crumpled envelope from Jeongin. "You're sending me love notes? After we already ended things?"

Jeongin looked like a deer caught in headlights. "H-how did you get that?"

"Your stupid ass sent it to me!"

"I- I did but-"

"Why?"

"Because I wanted you to know how much you mean to me."

"Well I don't care and I don't want this! I don't want you anymore!" You crumpled the envelope and letter into a ball and threw it at Jeongin's chest. It bounced off, and rolled onto the floor.

"Okay," Jeongin replied, his voice cracking. "You don't have to accept it. It was wrong of me to send you something after we had already broken up." He reached down for the crumpled up paper.

Jeongin held it up, hurt written across his features. The letter seemed to mean a lot to him, and even though he had hurt you in the past, you never wanted to make him feel bad.

You tried to snatch the mess you had made away from him but he held it up.

He furrowed his eyebrows, looking annoyed. "What?"

"Give it back," You told him, trying to reach the crumpled letter.

"You just said you didn't want it." It was unlike Jeongin to raise his voice. "If you don't want it then I'll take it back."

"Why?"

"Because I care about what I wrote in it and I want it!"

"Stop!" You continued your attempt to take it from him.

You and Jeongin fought over the crumpled papers like two nine-year-olds fighting over a toy truck. You were able to get a good grip on his love note. You were holding on to his love and you refused to let it go this time. You lied when you said when you didn't want him, and you yanked the paper towards you. Only it didn't come to you as a whole.

It ripped in half.

"Look what you did," Jeongin said, not realizing the weight of his words.

Look what you did, ____, You scolded yourself. You messed it up again.

That was the last straw. You were tired and frustrated and still heartbroken. You crouched down, head in your hands and tears slipping down your cheeks. You were nothing left but sniffles and sobs and torn pages and haunted by the word, "pretty".

"It's not fair," You choked out. "Why did you do this to me?"

"____," Jeongin had calmed down and reached out to you. "I'm sorry."

"No you're not," You told him. "Why did you send that if you didn't want to be with me anymore? What was the point of reminding me?"

Jeongin took a deep breath, gathering up whatever courage he had left. "Who says I don't want to be with you anymore? That's why I wrote you the letter. I'm just... not sure if you still want to be with me."

You didn't cut him off, so Jeongin took that as a chance to continue.

"I still think about you all the time. I wasn't sure how I felt about you when we were dating because we were both inexperienced and we rushed into things. That's not your fault, so don't think it was. I was the one who immediately said yes when you asked me out. I realized now that I did like you then and I still love you now, but at the time, I didn't know at all how to differentiate romantic feelings from platonic ones. I shouldn't have immediately said yes, I should've waited at least a day to confirm with myself that I did like you. If I hadn't rushed the both of us into something, we wouldn't have broken up. There wouldn't have been doubts or insecurities or anything wrong with us." Jeongin continued to rub your back soothingly. He was relieved that you had stopped shaking. "I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for making you feel like everything was your fault. And I'm sorry that you received a letter from me, because all it did was make things worse between us."

"Jeongin, I- I still love you too," You managed to get out.

It was in that moment that Jeongin realized he had said that he loves you. He gritted his teeth and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"But I need more time," You told him.

"I understand that." He nodded his head and gave you a small smile. "But can I walk you home?"

You nodded, and took the hand he offered to help you up off the ground. It felt like the first time again.

Jeongin barged into his younger brother's room. "Were you looking through my stuff?"

"Yes," His brother responded, scribbling into his notebook and ignoring the urge to give his older brother eye contact. "I was helping mom clean in your room."

"Why did ____ receive a letter I wrote ages ago before we broke up?" Jeongin crossed his arms, demanding an answer.

Jeongin's little brother blinked twice before turning to him shocked. "You wrote that before you guys broke up? It looked recent so mom sent me to the mailbox to drop it off."

"Well thank you for mailing it," Jeongin tried to end the conversation, but his brother pressed on.

"Oh I know why it looked recent," His brother have him a sly smile. "You kept it in good condition since that was the only thing of ____ you had left before they dumped you." Jeongin's little brother chuckled, going back to his notes. Then a thought popped into his mind. "Wait. Why are you thanking me?"

"No reason. Just, thank you," Jeongin told him sincerely. "Now stop touching other people's mail."

"Hey, what?" The younger was confused. "I don't understand you-" But Jeongin was already out of the room and heading back to his.

Jeongin sat at his desk in front of his bedroom window, and looked at his half of the ripped love note. He smiled to himself. He had written the letter ages ago and wanted to mail it to you as a cute gesture, but you had broken up with him the day after he had written it, and demanded all of your stuff back.

Jeongin held up his half, analyzing the piece of paper. He had the ending of the letter.

The boy caught sight of you at your bedroom window, staring from across the complex. You held up your half and smiled at him.

You had the start of the letter.

( THE LETTER )

I know this is sudden, ____.

But I wanted to send this to you because you mean a lot to me, more than I initially thought. I just want to talk to you all the time, and thinking about you puts the biggest smile on my face. I want to send you letters like this every week. No, everyday. And I want to fill your mailbox up with love notes and other things I hope you'll find adorable and wholesome so that when you go outside to open it, it explodes in an endless supply of my affection and my words kind of just fall around you. And you can think, "Wow, Jeongin really likes me. He likes me." Because I do like you.

Okay. That was pretty cheesy of me. It's only the truth, though. I have real romantic feelings for you, and I've been thinking about how much I like you for awhile now.

I remember when you stomped up the steps to the platform of the L train just a few months ago. You looked pissed and about ready to kill me. I won't lie to you, I was fearing for my life and I thought, "This is it. This is how I go. At the hands of a beautiful human." But you didn't kill me. You grabbed me by my shirt collar and you gave me a quick kiss and said, "I like your stupid ass." Not the most romantic confession, but it's the only confession I've ever gotten. It's the only confession I want and need.

And I remember you tripping and falling right after. I wanted to carry your bookbag for you, but you wouldn't let me. We kept asking each other why. "Why can't I carry it?" I asked, "Why do you want to carry it?" You asked. "Because I want to," I would say and then you would yell at me and tell me to give your bookbag back. We looked like ten-year-olds.

The train had pulled in and you tried to grab my hand and lead me inside, but you tripped over my foot and fell down instead. You fell so hard you started crying and I panicked inside. But when I rubbed your back and asked if you were okay, you said you were upset that you made me miss the train. I offered you my hand and you took, and now, I want to hold your hand forever.

So yeah, I like you a lot. I'm sorry it took so long for me to say it. I can't wait to see where we go from here.

With love, Jeongin.

all rights reserved | copyrights © spookybias. do not repost, translate, moderate, or copy any of my works.

[yuta-nakamots]

the christmas song - m.ti

Pairing - Taeil x Reader

Genre - Fluff, Single Parent!AU

Warnings - None (lmk if I should add any)

Summary - It wasn’t uncommon for when the weather grows colder, many hearts do as well. Though you hoped this was not true in the case of yours and Taeil’s, that the warmth of each other’s hearts would be enough to break the ice.

Word Count - 4.7k

Taglist - @ahgase55g7 @notnctu @yutacrush @pastelsicheng @puppywritings @neonun-au @dreamieofu

A/N - Inspiration: The Christmas Song by Michael Bublé. Special appearance by: @astroboy-lele​. This fic was also supposed to be released two days ago but finals has not been kind to me :’)

Written for the Taste of Winter Collab hosted by @dearyongs and @pastelsicheng. Also part of the Neowinter Festival hosted by @czennienet and the Neoholiday Festival hosted by @nct-writers.

When you had told your best friend, Furou, that you’d pick up her son from preschool, you thought that you’d just pop in and get the kid, that’s it. You didn’t know that you had signed yourself up to be the referee at a mini MMA fight.

“Xiaolong put the toy down.” You commanded the four-year-old you were supposed to be signing out. He was currently fighting over a little dragon figurine with a young girl who appeared to be his age or somewhere around there.

“No! I had it first!” He cried out. “Get your own dragon!” He yelled towards the girl.

“Xiao, give her the dragon, we’re going home.” You stated firmly.

He refused to give up the toy and started whining even louder, prompting you to pull the toy out of his grasp. “You need to learn how to share, young man,” you scolded before turning to the little girl he was fighting with, “I’m sorry about that sweetie, what’s your name?”

“Jaeha.” You were surprised when you heard two voices, one from the girl in front of you and another from behind you. Turning around, you were greeted by a handsome young man who you assumed was Jaeha’s father from the resemblance she bore to him. “Her name is Jaeha. Sorry about her, she’s a bit much to handle when she sees something she wants.”

“Oh, it’s alright, Xiaolong here needs to learn how to share things properly,” you motioned over to the said boy who still had his eyes on the little dragon in your hands, “I can’t believe he’s nearly five years old and doesn’t know what sharing is.”

“Jaeha’s the same way. It must be an age thing,” the man said with a chuckle, “Is he yours?”

Your eyes widened as you hurried to explain your relation to Xiaolong. “He’s not mine, I’m just here picking him up for my best friend. She has her hands full being a med student and all.”

“Ah, I see,” He remarked as he picked up Jaeha, “this little rascal is mine, though I wouldn’t trade her for anything else in the world.”

You felt a tug on your shirt and looked down to see Xiaolong still eyeing the toy. “No, Xiao, mommy is waiting for you at home. I can buy you a little dinosaur of your own if you want one so badly, how about that?” The boy broke into a smile at your offer.

“Oh, can you recommend some good kid’s stores in the area? I just moved here so I’m not too familiar with everything just yet.” The man informed you.

“At least you had the sense to come at the beginning of the school year, I pity the kids who are just thrown in during the middle of the school year,” you commented, “but the toy store I normally take this little guy to is the one near the end of this street, it’s in the little shopping center.”

“I’ll try taking Jaeha there once we get a little more settled in, thank you. My name is Taeil by the way. You are?”

“Y/n,” you said with a smile, “would you like my number? Like in case you ever need anything?”

“Yeah, sure! That’s very kind of you.” His voice was very sweet and kind of calming, you noticed.

When you were dropping Xiaolong of at Furou’s apartment, you couldn’t help but let her in on your encounter from just a little earlier. “Is he cute?” She asked, excited to hear you talk about a new man after your last relationship didn’t go so well.

“He is, but he Furou, I just told you that he has a daughter. He probably has a wife or at least a girlfriend if anything.” You didn’t want to get your hopes up in case this was true.

Furou hummed out in thought, “yeah well, you never know.”

You shrugged your shoulders, indifferent to the whole situation. “If you ever need me to pick him up again, feel free to call.” You said, nodding over to Xiaolong who was busying himself in front of the TV with his collection of toys.

A week later and you find yourself in a similar situation from the daycare, except this time it’s at the local swim center where you were supposed to be picking Xiaolong up from.

The only difference was that this time Taeil had gotten to the two fighting kids before you did. “Jaeha, no, Xiaolong had the goggles before you did. You can’t just take them from him when he’s clearly using them.”

Xiaolong made a face at her, seeing as how her own father sided with him. Jaeha made the same mocking face back at him. “But Daddy, he’s being mean.” She whined.

“That doesn’t mean that you have to act the same back to him.” Taeil explained calmly to the irritated four-year-old.

“Jaeha, how about you apologize to Xiaolong so he knows you’re sorry.” You proposed, joining Taeil where he stood in front of the two kids, both still dripping from being in the pool.

Jaeha let out a sigh before turning to Xiaolong. “I’m sorry for taking your goggles.” She admitted plainly.

“And?” Taeil prompted.

“And I won’t do it again.” Jaeha concluded.

You turned to Xiaolong, “do you accept her apology?”

“Do I have to?” He questioned.

“No, but it would be nice if you did.” You replied.

“Okay, then I guess I will.” You made a mental note to tell Furou that her son was getting increasingly sassier by the day so she better watch her mouth around him.

After both kids were sent off to go wash up and change, Taeil spoke up as you both waited for them to return. “Sorry about that again. If you don’t mind, how about I take you to lunch sometime as an apology.”

“No apology necessary but I like the sound of that. Are you free this week?” You inquired.

“Yes, actually. Does Friday work for you?” He appealed.

“It sure does,” you informed him with a smile, “we can talk about the details over text, the kids are coming back.”

Taeil’s smile mirrored yours as he agreed with you, “sounds like a plan.”

As you were dropping Xiaolong off at Furou’s once again, you told her about the new development in your relationship with Taeil. “Okay but no taken man would ask out a woman to lunch.” She commented.

“It could just be in a friendly manner because he said ‘as an apology’ for the kids fighting at swim class.” You reasoned.

“Check his ring finger,” Furou sighed out, “you need to check it next time you see him or else I really will strangle you.”

Your eyes widen at her statement. “Not every married or taken person wears a ring these days.”

Furou put her head in her hands. “You’re really frustrating to work with, you know,” she pauses as she looks back at you, “I’m rooting for you, I really am, so stop making excuses and actually try, will you?”

“Fine, fine, but if, and only if, he is single and is ready to be in a relationship.” You decided.

“Fair enough.” Furou agreed.

It was currently Wednesday and you had told your coworkers Xiaojun and Hendery about your upcoming dating on Friday. The three of you were hired around the same time under the marketing branch of Neo Corp. and quickly grew close to each other after finding out you were all the same age.

Part of your job as being part of the marketing team was to come up with possible marketing strategies for the company, which Hendery excelled at. Though sometimes, he got a little too extreme and that’s where Xiaojun comes in to moderate him. You did a little bit of both, coming up with the ‘Gen Z’ type of ideas with Hendery but also keeping things realistic and reasoning with Xiaojun why some ideas are better than others. Such was the case with your situation with Taeil.

“Do you know where he plans on going for lunch then?” Xiaojun asks, excited to hear about an actual possible relationship as opposed to Hendery’s weekly hook-ups.

You shook your head, “he said he would text me but he hasn’t yet.”

“Are you sure he even has your number?” Hendery chimed in.

“Yes, I’m sure. I told you that we traded numbers after the preschool incident.” You breathed out, wondering just how Hendery got himself hired.

He held his hands up in defense, “just double-checking.”

At that moment, your phone vibrated and you picked it up without much thought.

Unknown > y/n

11:46pm: Hi y/n, this is Taeil. I thought about this for a bit, and it’s actually quite embarrassing to admit, but I don’t really know where would be a good place to go for Friday. I’m open to any suggestions you have though, I trust your taste.

“Oh my gosh, guys he just texted me,” you exclaimed, “he said that he doesn’t know where to go and wants me to suggest somewhere to go.”

“How would he not know where to go?” Hendery wondered in disbelief.

“Hey, not everyone is level 100 at dating like you are.” Xiaojun teased though Hendery took it as a compliment and winked at him while laughing. “Anyways,” Xiaojun continued, “maybe you could go to that little coffee shop down the street. The one we ordered the sandwiches from last week.”

“Those were some pretty good sandwiches” Hendery interjected.

“Hmm, I actually like the sound of that. I’ll send him the address for it, thanks guys.” You told them appreciatively.

Xiaojun spun around in his chair, “wow, I can’t believe our y/n is finally going on a date for the first time in over a whole year.”

You looked up to shoot him a look. “It doesn’t help when all you men are so weird.”

“She’s not wrong.” Hendery commented in agreement.

When Friday came around, you couldn’t help but be excited for your little date with Taeil. You had even somehow managed to sneak out ten minutes before your lunch break began, though you probably should have just left then instead.

There was the familiar ding of the elevator when you hit the button and you hoped it wouldn’t take long since the indicator above the door showed it was coming down from one of the higher floors. You also hoped it would be empty since that was the floor the executives were on and you didn’t really want to be caught leaving for lunch earlier than you should be.

Luck clearly was not on your side when the door opened, revealing your director, Taeyong along with none other than Taeil. “...yeah she’s really nice and pretty cute too. I met her when I was picking up Jaeha from swim-” He barely managed to stop himself mid-sentence when he realized your presence.

“Good afternoon, Ms. y/n.” Taeyong greeted you as you stepped into the elevator next to him.

“Good afternoon to you too, Mr. Lee.” You replied, not missing the pout he made when you referred to him so formally.

“I told you to just call me Taeyong, we’ve worked together for almost five years now.” He whined, childishly stomping his foot to help get his point across.

You shook your head with a laugh. “I can’t help it, you’re my boss and we’re at work. When we’re not on the clock then maybe I’ll call you Taeyong,” you couldn’t hide your smile at the way his eyes filled with hope because of your words, “but right now you’re Mr. Lee, chief marketing officer of Neo Corp. and my head director, so let’s keep things professional.”

Taeyong let out another grumble, causing Taeil to chuckle, inadvertently reminding Taeyong of his presence. “Oh, right! Ms. y/n, this is Taeil, chief information officer. He just transferred over from our branch in Korea.”

You looked over at Taeil, unsure of how to react in case he wanted to keep your relationship on the low. “Ah, I actually met y/n last week.” He informed Taeyong, the two of them sharing a knowing look.

The elevator chimed once again as it slowed to a stop at a different floor. “Well it’s nice to know that you’re making friends here, Taeil,” Taeyong remarked as he stepped out of the elevator, “but I’ll see the two of you around, no funny business in the elevator!”

You laughed as the doors shut and the elevator continued on to the ground floor. “So, chief information officer? Really?” You asked in disbelief, turning to Taeil.

“Yeah, really.” He replied, a hand behind his neck as he looked away shyly. “I wasn’t planning on saying much about my job but since you’re in the company anyway, I guess there’s nothing to hide.”

“If anything, I have more to hide.” You joked, immediately stopping to explain when you see Taeil’s worried expression. “I mean like, with me leaving early for lunch right now and the other stuff that goes on in the marketing department since you’re an executive and all.”

“Oh, you can still talk to me, I promise I won’t tell Taeyong.” He said as you shot him a look while the elevator dinged once again, signaling its arrival.

Continuing your conversation on the walk to the cafe, you asked Taeil “why did you move here, especially since Jaeha is so young?”

“I was actually just recently promoted after the former head director retired,” he explained, “the branch in Korea isn’t as developed as the one here so the company asked me to move out to this one just to make things easier.” You nodded your head to let him know you were listening. “As for Jaeha, the timing worked out with school just starting up.”

“Don’t you have a wife or girlfriend that you could have left her with?” You question, hoping the question wasn’t too invasive.

Taeil hesitates a bit before responding. “Her mother...she passed away two years ago. I’ve spent so long mourning her loss and only recently did I decide that it was time for a change and the promotion came just like that.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No it’s totally fine, I understand where the curiosity came from.” Taeil interrupted, which you weren’t upset about at all.

Speaking with Taeil was surprisingly easy considering the fact that you’ve only known him for a little over a week. Even as the two of you ate, it wasn’t awkward like you thought it would be. You were able to connect with him as you spoke about the best places to shop or go to hang out. You even had enough confidence to ask him out on a date to one of the latter places, which he agrees to.

This first date turned into a second, then a third, and even up to a sixth. Xiaojun and Hendery are always asking for the latest details, wanting to be kept up to date with your budding relationship. You made sure to keep Furou in the loop too since she was the one who helped to start this relationship by asking you to pick up her son from preschool. Though again, she had called you to pick him up from his swim lessons since it was finals season and she forgot she had a paper due at midnight.

It was already November and the fall weather was changing to winter, even the heated indoor pool was not enough to keep the chill out of the room, causing you to shiver just a bit as you waited for Xiaolong’s class to end. You distracted yourself by watching the kids swim back and forth with their instructors and got so caught up in it that you nearly jumped out of your skin when Taeil sat down next to you.

Both of you laughed at the situation and began talking about anything that came to mind whether it be about work, Jaeha’s antics at home, a new recipe you tried out, you really felt like you could talk to Taeil about anything. It was quite disappointing when you heard the chatter from the kids as they all began getting out of the pool and going to change out of their swimwear.

You said goodbye to Taeil when Xiaolong and Jaeha came out, bickering as usual, though it seemed to be more friendly since it was about which superhero would win in a fight though neither side really wanted to admit defeat. As much as you wanted to watch them continue their debate, you knew Furou would be waiting for you so you helped Taeil end it and take the kids out of the building.

As you were getting into your car, you hear an engine struggling to start from nearby though you pay it no mind since the cold weather can cause cars to act up. You looked around, trying to figure out which car it was when you realized that the engine really wasn’t starting and found a very frustrated looking Taeil getting out of his car and opening the hood of it.

You told Xiaolong you’d be back in a bit before leaving to offer Taeil help in any way possible. You didn’t really know much about cars so it just ended up being you offering him a ride home, which he gratefully accepted since the sun was starting to set and the temperature continued dropping.

Taeil smiled at you once both of the kids were secured in the backseat and resumed their previous argument. “Thanks for being so nice and helping me out like this. You really didn’t have to.”

“I didn’t have to,” you agree, “but I wanted to.” You saw Taeil make a face out of the corner of your eye. “I’m sorry, was that too cheesy?”

“It was cheesy but I like it.” He chuckled, which was not a surprise to you after hearing the jokes he often makes.

The ride to Taeil’s apartment was rather peaceful aside from the kids in the back and it ended a little too soon for your liking but it seemed that Taeil was thinking the same was since he graciously invited you inside for a bit to thank you.

Jaeha was getting tired and cranky and started actually arguing with Xiaolong though Taeil quickly put it to rest when he turned on the TV and put on a show that he claims Jaeha has been really into these days. As soon as the kids are successfully distracted, the two of you decide to move your conversation to the kitchen where you won’t disturb them.

“Taeyong has been asking about you a lot these days.” He informs you.

You raise an eyebrow at this. “Really? What does he say about me?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just telling me to take good care of you and how he’ll send me back to Korea if I hurt one of his favorite employees.” He shakes his head at the playfulness of his fellow executive. “I didn’t know you were one of his favorites though.”

“You’d never believe this but he hired me on the spot after seeing a few of the ads I had put together for other companies.” You pulled out your phone to see if you still had pictures of them that you could show to Taeil. “Mr. Suh even said that he thinks Taeyong may or may not have had a crush on me, though he was leaning strongly towards the ‘may have’ side.”

“Ah, that’s Johnny alright. Always getting up in other people’s business. I’m surprised he’s not on me the way Taeyong is though.” Taeil laughed.

“Isn’t he busy with the foreign expansion project? Or is that not under his watch?” You ask.

Taeil shook his head, “it’s under him but he’s working with HR and finances as well so things are taking a while.”

“It’s HR, what do you expect?” You joke, drawing a chuckle from Taeil too.

“But anyway, I’m glad Taeyong didn’t act on his possible crush on you.” He states.

“Oh? And why is that?” You questioned.

“Well, you see, I actually really-” He was cut off by the sound of your phone ringing.

You pick it up, checking the caller ID, and let out a gasp when you see it was Furou and just how late it had gotten. “Hold on, I have to take this. Hello?”

You’re answered by the audio of Marlin from Nemo going “have you seen my son? Have you seen my son?” and nearly snort from how ironic it was.

“Sorry, I stopped by somewhere else for a bit. I’ll bring Xiao back in a bit, I promise.” You told Furou.

“Okay, but hurry up, his dinner's getting cold.” She grumbled.

You rolled your eyes, forgetting that she couldn’t see you. “You have a microw-” the beeping over the line interrupted you and you pulled the phone away from your ear only to see that she hung up on you. “That bitch, I swear-”

“Xiaolong’s mom?” Taeil guessed.

You nodded your head and let out a sigh. “I should get going before she gets any more pressed on where her son is. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Alright, please drive safely.” He tells you as he goes to get Xiaolong from the living room.

The first snow had fallen in the second week of December, indicating that it was time for the annual marketing department’s holiday party. Most, if not all, of the people in the department, looked forward to the party since Taeyong had declared it to be totally informal, no treating people as superiors in the workplace, no formal mentions of names, nothing.

You knew a fairly large amount of people in the marketing department and most of them knew each other as well so it was easy to pinpoint an unfamiliar face in the crowd. “Who’s that guy in the corner over there?” Hendery asks you as you both stood in line for the buffet.

You looked over, finding the person in question, only to realize it was Taeil. Next to him was Taeyong who had caught you staring and waved at you. Taeil turned as well, smiling as you waved over at them before sending you a little finger heart. “Okay, now I really want to know who he is. What was all that about?” Hendery pressed.

“Can’t you see? That’s clearly Taeil,” Xiaojun butted in, “who else would she be giggling about when they send her a heart like that? You’re so dense sometimes.”

“Hey! That’s only sometimes though.” Hendery defends, emphasizing the word ‘sometimes’. “Let’s go sit at the table next to them. Xiaojun go sit down before someone else does.”

Xiaojun let out a whine. “That means I have to get out of line and get back in line once you guys already have your food though.”

“We won’t start eating without you, I promise.” You tell him.

Xiaojun caves at that and goes “ugh, fine” as he walks over to the table next to Taeyong, Taeil, and the other higher-ups.

“That promise only extends to you right? You didn’t say ‘we promise’, right?” Hendery whispers into your ear.

Scoffing, you hit his shoulder, “Be nice.” He rubs the spot where you hit him and mocks your expression.

Hendery’s teasing continues throughout all the games like ‘pin the tail on Taeyong’ when he insisted that you do it on Taeil, which Taeyong even supported and allowed to happen. This paired with when Hendery screamed out yours and Taeil’s names for the pocky challenge was really pushing your buttons but you couldn’t deny the fact that you enjoyed being with Taeil and getting to feel the slightest brush of his lips against yours.

“So, do you have any plans for the holidays?” You ask him as you take the seat next to him, seeing as how Hendery was actively talking to Taeyong who was currently in yours.

Taeil lightly hummed “mmm, no, not really. Why?”

“I was just gonna say that if you don’t have anywhere else better to be, I’d like it a lot if you were to come over to my apartment sometime.” You say shyly.

“I like that too,” he admits with a smile, “how about Christmas Eve? That way we don’t get in your way in case you have any plans for Christmas?”

“Yeah, that sounds good to me.” Laughter erupted from the table next to you and you looked over to see Taeyong all but choking down your glass of water with a half-eaten pepper in front of him while Hendery films him with his phone. “Thank god we’re off for the rest of the week.” Taeil nods in agreement.

It was Taeil’s idea to cook dinner together since he didn’t want you to go through the hassle of making a large meal on your own. You were thankful though since you didn’t really trust your own cooking abilities, especially since you were fine with just eating whatever since it was usually just you eating the food you made.

Taeil was, by far, a much more skilled cook than you though he never once made you feel bad about it, instead of teaching you and giving you tips every so often. Being able to cook with him made the time go by so much faster and it made you wish that cooking was like this all the time.

The two of you took your servings of food to the living room and ate on the couch, Jaeha seated on the floor in front of both of you, the Hallmark movie on TV illuminating your living room. The movie was barely even halfway through when you hear the slightest of snores from Jaeha.

The little girl had cleaned off her plate and was now dozing off, the tiniest bit of drool forming at the corner of her lip. “I think that’s a sign that I should get going soon.” Taeil whispers, careful not to wake his daughter.

“You can stay if you want.” You tell him.

He shakes his head, “no, I really should get going. I’d rather wake her up now and get her home sooner than have her get a weird sleeping schedule going.”

“No, I mean like, you can stay the night if you’d like.”

“A-are you sure?” Taeil asks, eyes growing wide.

“Of course.”

“In that case, there’s something I want to do first.” He pulled out his phone and began typing before holding it above both of your heads.

You look up at his phone at back at him in confusion, “what are you-”

“It’s mistletoe, look!” He showed you his phone screen and sure enough, it was an image of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.

Rolling your eyes, you tell him, “if you want me to kiss you, you could have just asked.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Then can I just ask you to be my girlfriend?”

You froze with your mouth slightly open. “Moon Taeil, that is like, the smoothest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Sooooo is that a yes?”

“Definitely a yes,” you set your plate down on the side and leaned over from where you were sitting, closing the distance between you and Taeil, “now how about that kiss?”

Taeil’s lips met yours and couldn’t believe how soft they were. You felt his hand come up to caress your cheek as your lips slowly began moving together. His lips parted ever so slightly but before either of you could do anything, “Dear Santa, my wish is to never see this happen ever again.”

You and Taeil broke apart from each other, looking down to see Jaeha with her hands over her eyes. Taeil picked her up and settled her in between both of you. “Well, sweetie, you’re going to have to get used to it because you’re going to be seeing y/n a lot more often now.”

[shuahoonie]

you [tom holland] - eight.

PAIRING: tom holland x female!celebrity!reader

SUMMARY: ah, to be young and in love. it sounds great if only you and tom were actually dating out of pure love and not for the sheer reputation of your careers. it also should be great if you two actually got along, but life isn’t that easy.

WARNINGS: mostly swearing! some fluff here, some angst there. it’s haters to lovers / fake dating au so take that information as you wish! also, their relationship is improving yall 🤧

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

SONG INSPO: mxmtoon - used to you

A/N: surprise! I actually updated after five/six months??? a lot of things have happened during the time that I was gone. most of it revolved around my mental health and uni. not a great time to have a career crisis whilst living in the middle of a pandemic lmao. 

the last time i updated, i gave you guys the gift of fluff. maybe i should tone down a bit? or maybe not? i’m also sorry if this took ages. had an awful writer’s block. oooh, also i wrote an interview excerpt for this chapter. i added a link if you wanted to read it but no pressure! it’s just a lil’ sumn sumn :) anyway, enjoy reading!

hope you guys are safe & healthy! keep practicing social distancing and please wear your masks! sending all my love ♡

UPDATES EVERY SATURDAY 11 PM CST WHENEVER I CAN 

gif credits: @tommybabyholland​

vanessa’s masterlist | preview | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight.5 [interview] | 

Your friends have told you countless times to bite the bullet, however, you’ve seemed to swallow it instead. Here you were, lying in the same bed with Tom Holland, mere inches against each other. 

If anyone told you that you would be lying on the same bed as the guy you swore you hated a few months ago, you’d probably laugh at their face. 

You were definitely considering that maybe this whole fake dating thing wasn’t such a horrid idea after all. 

The room was dimmed to almost pitch black now. You could see a small streak of light peering from the curtains, probably from all of the street lights outside, allowing you to at least see something. You were exhausted but somehow you couldn’t sleep at the same time. 

The only reasonable thing that you could put your blame into was your heart, which was beating quite rapidly, by the way. You didn’t even know why you felt this nervous around him, it’s not like he’s a complete stranger. 

You’ve known Tom for a good two months—two and a half if you want to be specific. You picked up on his little quirks: his eyes crinkle when he laughs genuinely, he doesn’t like that much sugar in his tea. He likes his dog, Tessa, very much which you were already a goner for. He also hums when he’s happy which surprised you one day, not knowing what to do with that information. 

You also found out that his hands were always cold, which always startles you as your hands were extremely warm. Like right now, you could feel his fingertips grazing upon yours. As if your heart can handle even more of your emotions right now. 

You were confused as to why you were extremely nervous around him all of a sudden. Is it because this is the first time your sharing a bed with your pretend boyfriend? Is it because the last time you shared a bed with someone who you had no relation to is with your ex-boyfriend? 

It was driving you insane and you really had to get it together. You were both lying on your backs so all you could stare at was the empty ceiling. You took a quick look at Tom, who was already sleeping. 

Ah, so he snores. You made a mental note to yourself, wondering how you can use that information and pester him with it. He didn’t have loud snores, just soft ones but still loud for you to hear.  

You turned your body and lain on your side, choosing to face Tom. He really looked peaceful sleeping and the sight of him be at peace was enough to calm you down. 

With that, you found your eyes slowly start to droop down. The image of Tom sleeping soundly was the last thing you saw before you drifted off to sleep.

You noticed three things as soon as you woke up. You still had your eyes shut, only because you refuse to accept that it was already a new day.

The first thing you noticed was the annoying alarm tone that kept ringing on the bedside table. One of these days, I’ll end up throwing and smashing my phone. 

The second thing was how hot warm you felt. You felt the heat radiating beside you and you weren’t exactly used to it. You like the feeling of sleeping in a cold room while also burying yourself with blankets. 

The third thing you noticed was the pair of arms wrapped around you. As you slowly opened your eyes, you were greeted by the extremely close proximity that you shared with Tom. 

You found yourself cuddling Tom. Your head was resting in between his chest and his arm—the same arm that was wrapped around you. In the meanwhile, Tom’s other hand was resting on the side of your face, building the illusion that he may have caressed the side of your face.

You, on the other hand, had your left arm resting on top of his chest while the other was tucked underneath the pillow. 

You wondered how the hell you ended up in this position, but knowing how you move a lot in your sleep, you probably initiated this in the first place. You also wondered how Tom can sleep through this annoying alarm, especially since it kept ringing every ten minutes. 

Tilting your head up a bit, your eyes met the sight of his lips. However, from this angle, you could also clearly see the freckles speckled on his face. With the beaming sun and its fight to fill the room with light against the corners of the curtains, it only made things worse for you. Tom, with his body outlined by the light, absolutely looked angelic—as if the universe only favoured him and him alone. 

You slowly reached for his hand and removed it from the corner of your neck, carefully resting it on top of his stomach. After successfully doing so, comes the real challenge. You slowly released yourself from the grip of his arm and tried your best to get out of the bed without waking Tom up. 

Your logic? It would be rude to wake someone up from their sleep—especially when they can’t be bothered to be woken up by the alarm anyway. You also wanted this moment for yourself. You thought that it was best if Tom had no recollection of waking up to you two cuddling, acting as a true couple when there are no cameras around you. 

You walked to the bathroom to get yourself ready. You had a whole day of photoshoots and you also had to squeeze in a couple of interviews after. You didn’t want to miss your best friend’s wedding so you had to do whatever you can in order to balance your social life and work.

You already knew that you were going to be exhausted for today and you love your job, you really do, but sometimes you wished that you could catch a break without losing sleep for the next couple of days.

After taking a long hot shower and doing your essential skin routine—knowing that this is the only form of relaxation you’re going to get for the next couple of days— you slipped into a pair of mom jeans and a loose shirt. You packed this much because you knew you wouldn’t get the chance to drive home anyway. 

Just as you stepped out of the bathroom, your phone buzzed in your hand and saw a text from your manager. 

Zoë: On my way to the hotel! I will be there in 20 mins or so. Be sure that you’re ready so we can get going. 

“Oh, you’re already good to go?” You looked up from your phone and saw Tom yawning and rubbing his eyes. He was still wearing your sweatpants and he was still shirtless. 

You nodded. “Zoë’s picking me up.” You replied as you tidied the bed. It took you a couple of minutes before the words you said just sunk in. “Oh god, Zoë’s picking me up.” You repeated with wide eyes. 

“Yeah?” Tom chuckled, seemingly lost as to what you were trying to point out. 

“She doesn't really know that you slept with me.” You said but as soon as you realized what you just said, you knew you fucked up. You saw Tom smirking at you which only prompted you to hit him with the pillow. “I didn’t mean it like that, you weirdo.” 

“Oh, sure.” He teased as he put on his shirt. “I mean I’m pretty sure that I’m not the one who practically clung to a person while sleeping.” 

“Shut up, Holland. You know I move a lot when I sleep.” You muttered as a pathetic excuse to hopefully shut him up. 

“To be quite fair, I didn’t know that you do that whenever you sleep, but it’s nice to know that now.” He grinned. 

“Oh god,” You groaned. “Let’s just go so I can check out now. Zoë’s going to be here soon and I want you gone asap.” You said as you glanced around the room just so you know you didn’t leave anything behind. 

“Wait, what about your sweatpants?” 

“Just give it to me the next time you see me.” You said as you pulled him out of the room and made your way to the front desk. 

It turns out Zoë had no concept of time. As soon as you finished checking out, you saw your manager already waiting in the lobby. Oh, you recognized her big blonde hair from anywhere. She was sitting in one of the plush sofas, dressed in a white romper and even had her cat-eye sunglasses on. She looked like she’s about to catch her husband having an affair. 

“Ah, Y/N,” She said with a huge smile. “Thanks but you should know if that ever were to happen, I would pick something more flashy.” 

Oh, I said that out loud?! You practically yelled at yourself.

“We should get going, honey, we’ll grab you some breakfast on the way.” Zoë fixed the stray strands of your hair. You couldn’t be bothered to do your hair knowing that the stylists are going to give it hell anyway, so you just tied it in a low ponytail. 

“Um,” You didn’t even know how to say it. Where you even going to bring Tom up? If so, what were you going to say anyway? That you spent a night with your pretend boyfriend? Which shouldn’t be a huge deal but you were sure that your stunt doesn’t involve actually falling for each other.

“Tom,” Zoë’s pitch went a bit higher, surprised to see Tom standing behind you. “What’re you doing here, hon?” She asked quietly. 

“Oh, I-” 

“He spent the night with me. Tom was exhausted and it wasn’t safe for him to drive last night, so I asked him to stay.” You explained, cutting Tom off. You just wanted to get it over with and you were bound to face the storm sooner or later anyway. 

Zoë stared at the two of you for a moment, an undistinguishable look painted all over her face. You took a quick look at Tom who was also observing your manager’s reaction. 

However, she chose to drop it. “Alright, c’mon, honey. You have a long day today.” Your manager said after she flashed Tom a smile and turned around, leaving you both relieved. 

As you watched your manager leave and walk towards her vehicle, you turned to Tom and said, “I guess I’ll see you soon?” 

Tom smiled and nodded, “I’ll see you soon, my darling.” He said softly.

You felt your cheeks start to burn again so you did what you always do whenever you don’t know how to respond or when you’re just plain embarrassed—walk away and practically scream inside your head. 

You were walking—sprinting, more like— towards the vehicle and when you got in, you were greeted with a big smile by Zoë. It terrified you. 

“Y/N, hon,” She initiated with a soft voice. “You know sooner or later this stunt will all come to an end right?” 

“Yeah, I know.” You answered, slightly confused as to why this was brought up all of a sudden. 

“Okay, good, good...” Zoë trailed off. “I just—I see how things may escalate and I don’t want to see you hurt, Y/N.” 

“Yeah, I know.” You acknowledged, though this time you said it in a whisper. It was day 78 that you came clean to yourself and realized maybe you were developing a tiny crush on Tom. 

The people from the magazine were doing a feature story on you. Not only that you were going to be on the cover of the magazine, but you were also going to get a ten-page spread that included an interview. The whole theme of the issue was individuality so your spread had to be rooted from your style, so the outfits, the makeup, and hair had to base off of you as a concept while still adding an editorial element to it. 

You were already wearing the third outfit, wearing a pink frilly floral dress and it had hand-stitched and delicately placed flowers for the details—in which the outfit was inspired by your character in your tv series.

You were waiting for your hair and makeup to be done at the same time. The set was going to be in a pool so you also had to have your manicure and pedicure done. Basically, you had no control over your body.  

“How are you doing, hon?” Zoë asked as she passed by your chair. 

“’m still okay,” You mumbled. “Can I take a sip from my coffee though?” 

Maria’s, the nail tech for this shoot, eyes went wide. “Your nails aren’t dry yet,” She pointed out. 

“Please, Maria?” You pouted. You were literally about to pass out from exhaustion and you still had a full day ahead.

Maria rolled her eyes and gave in. “Fine, I’ll hold the cup.” She said before she grabbed your coffee from your manager. 

As you happily indulged the coffee, you heard Ruby, the makeup artist, let out a sigh behind you.“Y/N, I just did your makeup.” 

“Nothing bad happened! I just need to reapply the lipstick, it’s okay.” You quickly defended. 

“Child, you are going to be the death of me,” Ruby mumbled loud enough for the two of you. “You’re lucky I like you because if my other clients did this I would’ve grabbed their coffee and then they would’ve gone full diva on me.” 

You just gave her a huge smile before she reapplied your lipstick. The hairstylist just finished doing your hair, pinning tiny flowers all over your hair and having them scattered all over. You couldn’t believe that you had flowers all over your hair again—which only reminded you of Tom and what happened last night. 

Last night felt so surreal. It was the first time you two didn’t have knives on each other’s necks. It was the first time you felt comfortable around him and the experience was very intimate, it almost drove you mad. 

However, your manager’s words echoed back at you. It’s all a stunt and it will come to an end. 

“Are you ready, Y/N?” The photographer asked, breaking up your thoughts. Am I?

From pink frilly dresses to big tan sherpa coats, you were finally done with the photo shoot. The shoot went on for hours and all you wanted to do was to get rid of everything that your skin and hair had to endure. However, it doesn’t end there. You still had to do a short interview for the magazine. 

You were still wearing one of the outfits you had for the shoot—a black tube-top jumpsuit that clung into your body like second skin, along with tall pencil-heeled black pumps. This was definitely far from comfortable nor is it something that you’d wear, but you did like how it looked on you. “I look like the cold-hearted editor-in-chief in a magazine from a Hallmark movie” was all you said when you looked in the mirror. 

You had to excuse yourself from the young journalist who patiently waited for you as your photoshoot ran a bit late. She was drinking the coffee that you had given her—a small token of an apology for the time she probably wasted waiting. 

She gladly understood and went on with the interview. You were glad to do so anyway since you’re embarrassed for making her wait. You were asked about Amelia, the character that you play in the show Alchemist. 

As Y/N eased into the interview, still wearing one of her outfits from the photoshoot, she was asked about her resonation with her character. “I see only tiny bits of myself as her—that being hard-headed and using self-deprecating jokes as a coping mechanism,” she answered with a small laugh. 

You were also asked about your personal struggle between dropping out of school—potentially ruining your future— and your unstable acting career. 

She thought she possibly made a huge mistake of ruining her future. Luckily, Y/N received a casting call for the show Alchemist. “I still believe it’s pure luck. I’m lucky that I got the part and the show helped me shape my career, however, I can’t deny that I was really close to giving up.” 

Of course, the current state of your love life had to be included. 

“Yeah, I am seeing someone.” Y/N admits with a soft smile. “People know who he is and frankly, I don’t think I have to explicitly say his name as who I date shouldn’t be anyone’s business.” Her cheeks were flushed red as soon as the words came out of her mouth. Y/N was kind enough to explain that she didn’t mean it to sound so harsh, but she still stands firm with her words. 

You quickly and kindly expressed to the journalist that you mean well. You had no intention of being rude or for it to sound rude, but you still hold true to your words. The journalist was kind enough to understand your sentiments regarding this.  

The interview ended in a breeze and you were absolutely longing for the time when you can take a nice long bath. You quickly thanked the journalist as she bid her way goodbye. 

You can only hope that this cover issue finds you well. 

Time went by slowly and yet very quickly at the same time. You haven’t seen any of your friends for a couple of weeks as you’ve been occupied by filming, doing interviews, and photoshoots. 

You haven’t seen Tom in quite a while too—which you didn’t mind. You actually used this time to reevaluate your uncertain feelings for him. People at set didn’t seem to notice that he rarely showed up at your shoots—at least if they did, they would just assume that he’s busy since he did have an endless list of projects. 

As you were still uncertain about where your feelings lie with Tom, you chose this time to at least try and forget about him. Admittedly, it was difficult since people would always bring him up at some point or he would just be everywhere on social media. 

This time apart from Tom did give you a sense of peace. You weren’t in the constant state of practically having a heart attack around him, no matter how cliché it sounds. You hated that he had this effect on you but you had to act like everything’s fine—hoping that you’re doing a damn well job because acting is how you put food on the table. 

However, just like the opening lyrics of One Direction’s most gut-wrenching song, Love You Goodbye, mentioned: “It’s inevitable, everything that’s good comes to an end.” 

And boy, did it end alright. 

Ronnie: pls tell me it’s actually ur day off bc I really plan on having dinner with u.  🥺

You were about to have a long, relaxing bath (infused with epsom salts of course) when you read the text from your best friend. You were longing for this heaven-like bath and there’s no way you’re going to pass it up.

You: technically yes. the shoot ran till morning but all i’ve done since then was sleep. I'm about to take a bath tho & not planning to get out until i turn into a human prune lmao 

Ronnie: ok! I'll buy us dinner, any suggestions? 

You: really craving for some hearty Korean food rn 🤧

Ronnie: gotcha! I'll get u ur usual, do u want me to buy drinks too? 

You were still debating whether to go drinking tonight when your phone pinged, indicating a text. 

Ronnie: babes you’re taking too long. I'm getting us drinks. 

You: guess there’s no way out then lmao 

Ronnie: oh u bet. I'll be there in an hour-ish, maybe earlier. 

You: might still be in the bath when u arrive. 😬 

Ronnie: nah you’re ok haha. I have keys anyway and I'll make myself at home but u already knew that. 😌

You rolled your eyes but still had a smile on your face. You eventually gave Veronica some duplicates as she was constantly popping by anyway. It didn’t make sense for both of you to keep Ronnie out, waiting for you to come home when you could easily just give her some keys. At some point, you even asked her to move in. She is dancing around the idea though. 

Turning your phone off, you stepped into your epsom-salt-bubble bath—ready to shut off from the world and embrace the relaxation. 

After strategically propping your laptop at the bathroom counter, you’ve managed to finish two episodes of New Girl whilst you were in the tub. You could’ve used the bathtub tray that Olivia got you for your birthday, but you couldn’t trust yourself with that type of risk—no matter how careful you were. 

It wasn’t long when you heard a small commotion coming from the living room. You had your eyebrows furrowed, surely it was just Ronnie who’s dropping by today. Unless she invited Olivia too? 

Stepping out of the tub, you wrapped a towel around your body. You shut off your laptop and grabbed your phone before you left the bathroom. 

“Ronnie?” You called out above the chatter from the living room. “Ronnie, is that you?” 

“Yeah, right here, babes!” You heard her yell back. Upon reaching the living room, you saw Ronnie setting the food down on the table with Harrison putting the drinks down. “Oh, hey! I got us bibimbap and tteokbokki from Kim’s Kitchen. I also asked for extra kimchi because that is to die for.” Veronica exclaimed with a huge smile. “Oh and Mrs. Kim says hi.” 

You forced a huge smile in response, turning to your best friend and subtly motioning at Harrison who was standing beside her. 

“Oh! oh! Y/N, I hope you don’t mind that I invited them. They called me the same time as I texted you and I figured you wouldn’t mind because we’re all friends here, right?” Veronica smiled nervously. 

“A head’s up would’ve been nice, because...” You motioned to yourself, pointing out that you were still in your towel. “I mean it is my home and I should dress however I want but obviously you got your boyfriend here. The least I could do is look presentable.” 

Harrison turned red and so did Veronica. “Y/N, Harrison is not my boy—”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’ll go get changed.” You rolled your eyes and dismissed the entire thing. What can you do, kick them out? Wait—

“Wait, did you say “them” earlier? Is anyone else coming?” You asked. 

“Uh...” Veronica was looking for the right words to say until her eyes met someone else’s and looked right past you. 

You turned around and saw Tom standing in the middle of the room, holding plates and cutlery from your kitchen. Pinching the bridge of your nose to prevent the emerging migraine you’re about to endure and closed your eyes, you took a deep breath. 

“Uh—Hi, Y/N” Tom waved shyly. That’s all it took. All of those repressed feelings that you were trying to fight off were coming back. With your heart beating furiously, you knew you were a goner and you hated that. 

“Hi Tom,” you muttered. You two haven’t spoken to each other in a while since the morning after the wedding. God, this is awkward.  

You caught his eyes flickered to your body and put his head down, walking towards Harrison and Veronica, avoiding eye contact. You realized you were still in your towel, turning red. “Uh, I’ll go get changed.” You muttered, practically running towards your room to change. 

You were changing into an oversized shirt and into some leggings when you heard a knock from the door. “I’m decent!” You yelled. 

The door slowly opened, Tom peering from the other side. 

“Oh, hey.” You greeted him as he slowly went inside your room. He was looking around, observing your room. Your bedroom wasn’t special but it’s your favourite place. The walls were painted white—which is why when the sun beams through your windows, it bounces off through the walls and illuminates your entire room. Your room consisted of white furniture and bedding, but you made up for it by putting numerous plants all over your room and using earthy tones such as blankets and decorative pillows as accents. 

“Hey,” Tom stepped a bit closer “Sorry about earlier. If I knew you’d feel uncomfortable, I wouldn’t have come.” He apologized. 

“No, you’re good. I guess I was just caught by surprise.” You quickly dismissed. 

There was an odd silence. Is this what happens when you don’t talk for quite a while? 

“Oh, I also wanted to give you this,” Tom said, handing you the sweatpants that he borrowed a while ago. The cursed night that brought you closer to each other, literally. Grabbing the neatly folded pants, your fingers gently grazed upon his—the first time you had physical contact ever since that night.  “Don’t worry, I washed it.” He added. 

“Eh, I think I’ll wash it again just to make sure.” You joked, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. 

Tom let out a small laugh, scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry.” You heard him say as you put your hair into a loose ponytail.

“For what?” You asked, brows furrowed. 

“I wasn’t exactly the finest “boyfriend” in the world.” He explained, putting air quotes on the word ‘boyfriend’. “I’d say I was busy but I should’ve made time.” 

You gave him a small smile. “It’s okay, Tom.” You turned around to place the pants inside the drawer. “It’s not like you’re my actual boyfriend anyway.” You laughed awkwardly.

For some reason, that last sentence left an unpleasant feeling on you. Why are you longing for Tom anyway? Are you that deprived? 

Tom let out an awkward chuckle and mumbled a quiet “yeah,” 

There it is again. That awkward silence. Will this last for the entire night because this is going to be exhausting? 

All of a sudden, Tom looked at you with a smile. “Why are we being weird?” Tom asked, laughing. 

“Yeah, I don’t even know either,” You couldn't help but laugh as well. “I’m definitely not used to you being this quiet.” 

“Are you saying that you missed it then?” He asked with a smirk. “Better yet are you saying that you missed me?” 

You rolled your eyes. There’s the Tom that you knew. “I wouldn’t go that far, Tom.” You replied, fighting off a smile. 

“’m just teasing, darling,” He laughed softly. “So, should we just forget everything and just be friends?” He asked, offering his hand.

You were about to reply when you heard a loud knock from the other side of the door. “Oi, are you two making out in there?” You heard Veronica yell obnoxiously from the other side. 

“Veronica!” You shrieked out of pure embarrassment. You felt your face turning red, as if like you’re a preteen caught with her crush.  

You pulled the door open and dragged Tom outside out of pure embarrassment, only to meet Veronica and Harrison who were leisurely sitting by the couch, trying to fight off their smirks. 

“Food’s getting cold,” Harrison said innocently as you glared at the both of them. 

“I see that you two are getting close,” Veronica commented eyeing both of your hands that were still clasped. 

“I—uh,” You’re at a loss for words. You forgot the calm feeling of how Tom’s hands felt against yours. 

You were about to let go when Tom raised both of your hands to show Haz and Ronnie. “I like holding her hand, it’s always so warm,” Tom commented with a soft smile. “One of the perks of fake dating, Y/N.” 

Veronica took a good look at you while you were busy staring at Tom. Ronnie knows that stare of yours and if she’s being honest, she doesn’t know whether to feel happy or anxious for you. 

“Yeah, that is until your hands get damp.” You teased, rolling your eyes. “Let’s just eat.” You said as you grabbed a cushion and sat on the floor. 

“Okay, so what are we having?” Tom asked as he stared at the table full of Korean dishes. 

“Well, I ordered each of us a bowl of bibimbap because I have no clue what you two like to eat” Ronnie said, pertaining to Tom and Harrison. She handed them each a bowl. “They’re all beef, by the way—oh except for Y/N’s, she has chicken.” 

“Have you had bibimbap before?” You asked Tom who was behind you, sitting on the couch. 

He shook his head in response, grabbing a cushion and opted to sit on the floor, right next to you. “I’ve had Korean BBQ before, does that count?” 

“Not quite,” You laughed. “Here, I’ll add some chilli paste.” 

“Darling, don’t add too much—” Tom argued while trying to grab the chilli paste from your hands. He ended just holding onto your hand instead.

“C’mon, it’s better when it’s spicy!” You defended, trying to squeeze more into his bowl.

“Are you sure you’re not adding that much because you hate me?” You could feel the close proximity of his face against yours. 

“Oh, please,” You turned to face him “I could never hate you, Tommy.” You blinking innocently, trying to hide the fact that he’s literally inches away from you. 

While you and Tom are practically exploring this whole new territory of closeness, Veronica was quietly watching it unfold in front of her eyes. 

“They seem to be getting along quite well,” Harrison commented before shoving a spoon into his mouth. 

“Yeah, maybe too well.” Veronica murmured, still staring at the couple in front of her. 

“And that’s a bad thing?” Haz asked with a raised eyebrow. Curious. 

Veronica couldn’t answer. Is it really a bad thing or was she just being overprotective? She should be happy for her friend! Heck, she should be happy that you and Tom were finally getting along for once.

Veronica chose to just look past it and accept the situation for what it is for now: a miracle. 

“I guess not,” Veronica answered, smiling softly at Harrison who gladly smiled in return. 

“Dinner was spectacular,” Tom commented with a smile “Well done, Ronnie.” 

“Oh—psh!” Ronnie waved her hand nonchalantly, “That was nothing.” 

“Yeah, because Mrs. Kim prepared all of it” You argued jokingly. “Besides, I suggested that we should have Korean cuisine tonight.” 

“Then I guess I should thank you, Y/N,” Tom grabbed the sides of your face and squished your cheeks. “Thanks, darling.” He grinned. 

You scrunched your face and took his hand away. “You’re annoying,” You told Tom while gathering the plates, starting to clear the table. 

“I’ll get that, Y/N,” Harrison said while grabbing the plates from you. “I’ll do the dishes, you lot just stay put here.” 

“Ooh, I’ll help!” Veronica stood up to help Harrison. 

“No, it’s fine. Just stay there, Ronnie. It’s okay.” Harrison replied, his tone of voice suddenly warm towards Veronica. 

“You’re so sweet,” Veronica said in awe. “But that won’t work for me, babe. I’ll help you, it’s totally okay.” She insisted, clearing the rest of the table and following Harrison towards the kitchen. 

You were about to head into the spare bedroom when you felt Tom wrap his hands around yours. “Where are you going?” He asked. 

“I’m just going to grab something,” You replied, “Even if I try to get away from you, I couldn’t. Trust me.” You teased. 

Tom nodded understandably, letting go of your hand. 

As you were on your way to the spare room, you couldn’t help but mumble “Why’s he being so clingy all of a sudden? Is this what he’s like to his friends?” You chose to shake off your thoughts against your better judgment. 

“What’s that?” Tom asked as soon as you entered the living room. 

“A bean bag chair,” You answered, dropping it in front of him. “So you can stop hogging my place on the sofa.” 

“Aw, you got a bean bag chair just for me?” He asked with a huge grin on his face. 

You rolled your eyes, “I didn’t buy it just for you, dumb ass.”

“Whatever you say, Y/N.” He grinned. “Whatever you say.” Tom then sat on the bean bag chair, except he sat at the very upper part of it and tried to keep his balance whilst doing so. 

This is the most boyish thing you’ve seen Tom do—no fancy clothing, no assistants around him, no cameras, none of it. He looked like an average guy, doing silly and harmless things, who’s just trying to have fun. 

With that in mind, you couldn’t help but pull your phone out and film him doing so. Eventually, he caught on and saw that you had your phone out, giving a smile. 

Laughing, you said, “That’s not how you sit on it!”

“I’ll sit on it however I want,” He teased. You quit filming and decided to upload the clip on your Instagram story. It was cute, pure, and authentic. Three words that you swore you wouldn’t use when pertaining to you and Tom. 

This fake dating thing is getting harder and harder. Seeing that you and Tom finally decided to act friendly around each other, it’s definitely going to provoke the feelings you were trying to suppress from him. 

“Okay, so I got bottles of soju.” Veronica announced while wiping her hands with the kitchen towel. “Anyone up for a Paranoia drinking game?” She asked with a smirk. 

“Why must we play a game while drinking?” You asked, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“I think it’ll be fun, Y/N.” Tom commented. “This is the right moment to build a tight bond with each other.” 

“Yeah, because nothing says bonding like alcohol and using repressed feelings.” You mumbled. 

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[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

illicit affairs

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x OC!Reader; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years

Word count: 2393

Warnings: some swearing, nothing too unsettling, Bucky being Bucky.

[a/n: please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist or if you’d like to be removed. If you’d like to be added to the taglist just simply message me]

Previous part

Series Masterlist

Age: 19

Year: 2013

Location: New York

When Bucky had brought up taking it slow with Elizabeth he truly meant it because he wanted to give their relationship a fair shot. He really did want the relationship to work. He really wanted to be with Elizabeth again.

At least that's what he had thought.

For the past year, while away at school he always had this notion that they would be getting back together once they returned fro the summer.

For the first couple of months at school Bucky ignored any person who tried getting with him. He was determined to change, to prove to not just Elizabeth, but to himself that he's a changed man.

He was going to focus on himself. Truly work on himself.

And it was all going well until he and his roommate Sam went to a party. The party was being thrown at a nearby fraternity. Everything was going well until these two girls started to flirt with him and Sam.

Bucky ended up leaving with one of the girls and as did Sam.

Bucky had woken up the next morning feeling completely awful about what he had done. He spent the greater part of his morning self-loathing.

Once Same had gotten back he became worried over seeing the state Bucky was in.

"Hey are you okay?" Sam asked

"No, I fucked up," Bucky said sitting at the edge of his bed, pulling on his hair.

"What did you do?" Sam asked concerned.

"I hooked up with that girl from last night."

"Are you serious?" Sam shook his head in disbelief over Bucky's freak out.

"Yes, I'm serious."

"Aren't you single?"

"Yeah," Bucky looked at him as if he had three heads.

"Did you both consent to having sex?" Sam asked sitting down on his own bed across from Bucky.

"Yeah."

"Then I don't see the problem," Sam said, "You both consented and you're both single. So what am I missing?"

Bucky froze. Realistically he didn't do anything wrong. He and Elizabeth weren't together, and it's not like she knew he wanted to get back together. Plus, she was on the other side of the country. It's not like she would hear about this.

"You're right. There isn't a problem," Bucky said, feeling himself calming down, "Just had a bit of a moment."

"Are you sure you're good now?" Sam asked, "I don't want to come back from taking a shower to find you spiraling again."

"Yeah, I'm good," Bucky assured Sam.

That girl wasn't the last girl Bucky hooked up with. But he also didn't go crazy with it. He was at NYU on partial scolarship, so he needed to also focus on maintaining high grades.

Over the course of his first semester he found a good balance between school and having a personal life. The one thing Bucky did make sure not to touch was alcohol. Growing up he had a front row seat to the negatives of what alcohol could do to a person. The last thing he ever wanted to do was be like his father.

By the end of his first year of school he was thriving, mentally and physically. He had made it onto the Dean's List and he made a lot of wonderful new friends. He had also decided to take some summer courses, wanting to speed up his timeline to graduate.

For the first time in a very long time Bucky was proud of himself. He couldn't wait to show Elizabeth the young man he had become. Someone worthy of being with her.

Bucky was back home a week before Steve was due to return. He had spent part of the week unpacking and spending time with his family.

It was one day, the same day Steve was flying back in, that he took Rebecca to the mall.

Rebecca was browsing the candles in Bath and Body Works, that's when Bucky bumped into her.

Natasha Romanoff.

He hadn't seen her since the end of last summer before she left to go to Yale University.

Nothing romantic had happened between them after everyone found out about their affair. Natasha did try bringing up the idea of them giving it a try, but Bucky had told her he wasn't ready for that. His head space wasn't in the right place to be with anyone.

"Hey Bucky," she smiled brightly, subtly checking him out.

"Uh hey Nat," he awkwardly said.

"You look good," she complimented him.

"So do you," he cleared his throat, finally taking in her appearance.

He would be lying if he didn't say she didn't look good, hell even better than before.

"I see you're back as well," she lightly laughed, trying to make small talk.

"Yeah, just got back last week," he said, "When did you come back?"

"Two days ago," she said, "It's kind of weird being back home, not going to lie."

"Yeah I know what you mean. Even though I was close by, it feels weird," he laughed.

"Bucky, I'm ready to go," he turns around to see Rebecca walking up to them with a bag in her hand.

"Hi Rebecca," Natasha friendly greeted.

"Hi," Rebecca said curtly forcing a fake smile.

Bucky's eyes widen at his sister's rude behavior. Before he could say anything Rebecca was already by the exit of the store.

"Sorry about that," he embarrassedly apologized.

"No worries," Natasha lied, shaking off the feeling.

"I better go," Bucky said starting to walk away, "It was good to see you again."

"You too," she said.

As Bucky walked away, Natasha called out his name. She walked to where he was standing in front of the open store door.

"Maybe if you have some time today, you want to meet up for some coffee?" She hesitantly asked.

Bucky didn't know what to say. He knew he should've rejected the offer, but after the way Rebecca treated Natasha he felt like he needed to accept. And a part of him was missing her.

"Sure," he smiled, "I have to drop off Rebecca first, how about we meet at the cafe a block away from the high school in 30 minutes."

"Deal," she winked.

Bucky thought he was being careful. He thought he had covered up the tracks of what had happened in his car two hours before picking up Steve.

He thought wrong, the second Steve held up Natasha's red lace panties.

After his hook up with Natasha he had promised himself that that was it. With Elizabeth being back home, he couldn't risk her finding out.

Bucky was clearly lying to himself.

That first week Steve was back he alternated going from Steve's to Natasha's. Making up excuses about where he was. Steve didn't suspect a thing, too focused on unpacking his things.

Bucky was actively avoiding his house, afraid of seeing Elizabeth. Part of it was that he wasn't ready to see her quite yet, the other part was guilt for what he was doing with Natasha.

He tried to push that guilt aside, reminding himself that the difference this time was that he was actually single. He and Natasha even agreed to keeping it casual, seeing as Bucky would be busy with school this summer.

When Bucky saw Elizabeth walk into the Rogers' backyard all his thoughts stopped. Steve was right, she looked happy.

He was taken back when she made the first move to talk to him. He was even more surprised when she invited him into her empty house. Which he declined. It's not like he didn't want to, because he really did. His conscious wouldn't allow him to do so. He knew if he really wanted this to work with Elizabeth, they couldn't rush the process. Bucky went to bed that night promising himself he would end it with Natasha in the morning.

That didn't happen.

He told Natasha the truth, that he and Elizabeth were going to try again. When she asked if they were officially back together, Bucky told her no.

He ended up back in her bed.

That's how he spent his summer, going back and forth between the two young women.

It was going well. Or so he thought.

Word had gotten around that he and Elizabeth were spotted out on a date.

Thanks Inez.

So Bucky and Nat had to be extra careful about their meetings. They found themselves meeting in empty parking lots during the early mornings before Bucky headed to class.

As July approached Bucky found his schedule getting much busier, he and Elizabeth weren't seeing each other as often as they were used to.

Truth be told he and Elizabeth weren't even being physical with each other.

Not for the lack of trying on Elizabeth's part. He just couldn't bring himself to do it, not when he had spent his mornings with Natasha.

He knew she was getting slightly frustrated. He just kept telling her that he needed them to take it slow. He knew he would have to end it with Natasha, if he wanted to be with Elizabeth.

So that's what he did.

The week of Steve's birthday Hamptons getaway, he ended it with Nat. He explained to her how he really needed him and Elizabeth to work.

Natasha pretended to understand letting him know there weren't any bad feelings between them.

She spent that week crying over the same boy who couldn't love her back. She felt humiliated about letting him do this to her once again.

Yet she couldn't help but to long for him.

She loved Bucky like she had never loved anyone else.

If that meant always coming second to Elizabeth Sanchez, she would. As long as she had him.

______________

Natasha ended up going to the Hamptons with some of her sorority sisters for the 4th of July. They had heard about a party down the street and decided to check it out. Natasha wasn't expecting to find anyone she knew there, let alone Bucky, with Elizabeth by his side laughing.

She managed to avoid Bucky and any of her hometown classmates. She didn't want that drama. She also didn't want her new friends finding out about her past.

When everyone went out front to watch the fireworks she stayed behind. She just wanted some time alone, away from the crowds. She also didn't want to see the happy couple together.

As she sat on the couch scrolling through her phone she heard someone walking in. She looked up expecting to see a stranger's face, only to be met with a surprised face Bucky.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" He asked, turning around making sure no one had followed him inside.

"Don't worry, I didn't come here to stalk you," she rolled her eyes, "I'm here with some sorority sisters, didn't expect to see you or them here."

"Oh," Bucky tried to ease his nervous tone, he was standing awkwardly by the living room entrance.

"I'm not going to bite," Natasha said annoyed by the way Bucky is behaving, "So either come into the room or leave."

Bucky hesitated for a second. He knew he could've just gone upstairs to his own room. That would've been the safer choice. Yet he found his body making it's way towards the couch, sitting a cushion away from Natasha.

"Big crowds?" She asked him.

"Yeah just felt a little suffocating," he admits wringing his right wrist.

"Tell me about it," she sighed.

"So are you two official?" Natasha asked looking everywhere but at him.

"Nat," Bucky sighed, not wanting to start any drama.

"What? It's just a question," she raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'm going to take that as a no," she answered for him after a few moments of silence.

"What are you trying to prove Nat?"

"Nothing," she defended, "Just don't understand why we had to end things when you two aren't even 'official'."

"Nat, I need this to work with her," Bucky admitted looking into her eyes.

He saw the hurt behind them. He feels guilty for all the pain he's caused her. He never meant to hurt her. Never meant for things to go this way. Bucky truly did care for Natasha, even though it doesn't seem like it. He really did. He just doesn't get why he can't fully give himself to her. He had no trouble physically, and at time mentally. There was just something keeping him from doing so, like a tight grip on his arm tugging him away.

Natasha just stared at the silent boy in front of her.

“I really am sorry for the way everything played out,” Bucky sincerely apologized, feeling his eyes begin to tear up, “I know I keep saying this, but I never meant for all of this to happen. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Can I ask you just one thing?” She asked clearing her throat, feeling a lump in her throat.

Bucky nodded his head, letting her continue on.

“What makes her so special?” She asked, tears threatening to fall.

“She was my first love.”

“And you were mine,” she confessed, tears silently falling down her face.

Bucky scooted closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, bringing her into his side as she cried.

“Natasha, I really did love you,” he whispered.

“Not more than her,” she looked up in his eyes.

Bucky didn’t know how to respond to that. He himself didn’t know if he did or not.

“We never got a proper goodbye,” her voice cracked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Nat-”

“Please,” she begged, “Just one last time. I promise I’ll leave you both alone. Please.”

Bucky quietly got up front he couch, taking a moment to think his next move over.

He surprised Natasha by sticking his left hand out for her to take.

She reached out for it, letting Bucky lead her upstairs to his room. When he reached his room he opened the door for Natasha to walk in, before entering he turned around making sure no one was watching.

_______________

As they walked out Natasha made a joke lightening the mood, causing both of them to laugh as they made their exit.

Bucky walked out behind Natasha, only to meet the eyes of the last person he would want to catch this moment.

He froze in his spot.

Nothings changed.

[shigarakis-fifth-hand]

Undercover; Jirou x Poly! Reader x Momo

Jsjsjs okay, poly x reader (Bc I'm a closeted poly irl lmao) How about jirou x reader x momo, but they're all pro-heroes. The reader is like an undercover agent-type hero. (Not like an underground hero, i mean full james bond stuff) But they went to UA with the rest of the class 1a. Maybe they're all at a school reunion & the reader is technically doing cover work in plain sight. An assassin is trying to kill/miam one of the top 10 heroes. Go from there. (Also, thx for telling me abt ur rq💛🥺)

UA’s year of 2048’s 10-year Reunion had people flying in from all over. Iida had to cut his meeting short and fly overseas, Jirou had to miss a concert that she had with her fans, totally forgetting and planning last-minute per usual, and of course, you had forgotten about it until your boss brought something up about it. At first, you had been sad that you would not be able to go and see all of your friends from years ago due to the crazy amount of work that stacked up on your desk, mountain beyond mountains of emails and files, begging you to take their case.

But luckily, going to the Reunion was a case itself, and a very important one. Eraserhead, one of the underground, older heroes, had been beginning to be threatened by an organization of hero-haters on social media. At first, it had all been just petty hate and bickering, until the threats began to pour in from this random account. Police had identified the IP address, only to find nothing beyond that. That’s when Eraserhead began getting “gifts” left outside his door, and notes too. Threatening notes, telling him to enjoy his last days before he was killed by the sender. Your company, the Federal Hero Unit Agency, had begged him not to attend the reunion and stay in his apartment with his husband Present Mic until the situation could be dealt with. But, he had refused to miss a night with his favorite past class. 

That’s when you had been contacted by your Boss personally, and assigned the case of protecting him through out the night, keeping a watch on him while not giving away your identity as an agent and protector. That’s right, you were an FBI agent that dealed with Hero Matters, including but not limited to stalkers, missing heroes, murdered heroes, and keeping track of where, when, and how the heroes were doing mentally. A hero in a bad mental state was a disaster waiting to happen. You had chosen the job, not only because the company was begging you, but you needed to help keep the heroes of the town safe. The heroes would protect the city, and you would protect them. This also gave you reason to keep a close watch on all your past classmates and how they were doing. In a world like your own, you wanted to be the first to know when they got hurt so you could go see them. They didn’t know how but you always knew when and how they were doing.

Checking yourself out in the mirror, you were fairly impressed by the look of the dress you had gotten last minute. A black dress that showed your shoes nicely, fairly simple but also cute. Looked well with your skin tone. “Ready gorgeous?” Your girlfriend Momo walked through the door, glancing you up and down and smiling. You turned to look at her, in her best color of red of course. He wore a low cut dress of course to your dismay that only promised that you two would have fun tonight if she wanted it. “Where’s Jiri?” You asked, surprised when she smiled lightly of getting to see the third to your Three Muscuteers. Your other girlfriend, Jirou, had been on tour of her concert. You would have happily joined her if it hadn’t required taking over a month off of work, which was not allowed. Still, you hadn’t physically seen her in such a long time, and FaceTime had got boring past a week of doing it.

At the same time, you and Momo had more time to yourself, able to fully spend hours and hours making love without Jirou wanting to run off and watch a movie or sing karaoke with her ADHD self. You did miss her though, and would be so happy to see her in just an hour at the school. “I’m so glad your work let you do this. I was not showing up to that party without someone to hold onto, I’m not that independent.” She giggled before turning to look at you both in the mirror. “Aww, we look cute. Hope Jiri didn’t just wear jeans and a shirt like she said she would. I think that was just a joke, but again, would not be surprised.” Momo exclaimed as you two made it to the door of the two bedroom condo on the top floor of the penthouse you rented. The roof allowed you ways to leave your house using your quirk and not be tracked by cameras. The more discreet, the better for your career anyways.

Out the grand doors of the lobby and into the limo Momo had arranged, you two waited eagerly to pull up to the school. UA, the place where everything had changed. You had moved in with Momo as roommates the first year, and from then had began getting romantic. It was only after you lost your virginities that you fully and verbally established a relationship with one another. Momo had promised to keep herself “pure”, but the way you kissed her lips was nothing but like an angel to her, so she couldn’t help herself. For a while, Jirou had only been a close friend for the both of you. Sure, Jirou kissed you but it was only “friendly”. You sent her your nudes, but only to get some feedback on how good you looked. Jirou would try on your clothes and change in your room, but it was only because you were both girls and it was no big deal. Jirou only came along into the relationship after getting drunk at a party and you all learning new ways for three people to touch at once. 

Boy, were you excited to see her. Finally, the limo pulled up to the school, lots of camera flashing following your arrival. Used to it by now, you held your hand up to your face to block the light, pulled your arm over Momo’s shoulders, and pulled her along with you up the stairs and into the building, ignoring all the yelling and questions. Immediately as you entered, a wave of nostalgia entered you as you were remembered of the many days you guys would sit on the couch, eat, and play ping pong, having the news play in the background of heroes and their work or fights. It only fit the aesthetic of what you were all training to be. Some would say you were each other's competition, but you all were friends. There was no doubt about the undying platonic love you all shared. Momo must have felt it too as she squealed and giggled, squeezing your hand and jumping up and down. 

“I have to go to the bathroom. Go ahead of me, alright? I’ll be there in a minute.” You smiled, gave her a wink, and watched her way safely in the room. After having so many villains want you dead, there was no problem being extra careful with the ones you loved, especially after knowing someone dangerous was possibly already in the building. You walked into the ladies room, seeing two girls already there. A woman with a black pixie cut and black dress, sort of similar to your own, stood at the mirror, fixing her makeup. The other had long, bright red hair and dark skin. You nodded to them, smiling as you walked into the stall.

Being as silent as you were trained, you slid out the earpiece and clipped it onto your ear, adjusting the mic to just under your ear, and the sound projector into your ear. You made some noise, then stepped out, nodded to the ladies again, and left. Quickly walking, eager to start your mission, see your girlfriends, and your friends. As you walked into the room, the party seemed to buzz extra loud as everyone saw you. Denki practically tackled you, not changing but from the peach fuzz on his chin and tattoo below his eye. You had seen Denki multiple times in public and when you scheduled to meet up, but this time just seemed special. “My girl! What’s up?! You look- so good!” He exclaimed, his eyes lingering on your figure. “Watch it tiger, this one is taken.” You looked behind him to see Mina, much taller, and with a more alt look to her now. “Yes! You’re dating Momo and Jirou right? They published you in Hero Weekly multiple times. You represent more than you can imagine Y/n!” Deku exclaimed. You smiled and winked at him, seeing that he hadn’t changed but from his hair style, and the fact that Todoroki swung his arm around him. “Good to… see you.” Todoroki mumbled slowly. You knew he meant well, but yet he hadn’t changed as well, personality included. “There she is!!” She turned to see Kirishima and Sero, running up to you full-speed. “Sero! Kiri!” You practically screamed, jumping into the arms of your awaiting guy friends. “God, I’ve missed you!!” You exclaimed, smiling ear to ear. 

“We saw you two days ago, chill dude.” Sero giggled, before separating. “Y/n. Kirishima. Sero. Please refrain from yelling inside.” You all looked behind you to see Aizawa, holding a glass of wine and wearing a suit. He hadn’t aged a day, and yet, the eyebags were just a little deeper. “Sorry Mr. Aizawa.” You grinned, giving him your best apologizing smile. Things haven't changed that much over 10 years. “Although your looks have altered, your personalities haven’t changed. Good.” Your past teacher smiled warmly, for possibly the first time, and walked away. You were about to begin talking to your friends again when you saw Shinso standing behind Aizawa, staring at you with surprise in his eyes. 

Slowly and nervously, he walked up to you. “Y/n…” He looked down at your body and back up you. You couldn’t help but get creeped out, knowing that you and Shinso had once been together, but Jirou and Momo had come into your life. You knew it wasn’t fair to lie to him, so you had broken up with poor Shinso and gotten together with your now girlfriends Jirou and Momo, ignoring the constant calls and desperate messages for months. “Hey Shin. How’s it going?” You asked, smiling and acting as nothing had happened. You two could still be friends after two years, right? You were both over each other and with someone else.

“Good. I’ve been working under Aizawa for a year now, I’m going to become a teacher like him.” He grinned calmly as you smiled proudly at him. “That’s so good! I… I’m really proud of you. Last time, you told me you wanted nothing to do with heroes. And now you want to teach the next generation. I’m so happy!” You exclaimed. Shinso was about to speak, before you felt someone hug you from behind quickly. “Y/n!!” You turned around to see your beautiful girlfriends looking at you, Jirou wrapped around you and Momo smiling off on the side. “My god! I missed you so much!” Jirou reached up and kissed you slowly before returning to hug you. “I missed you too.” You looked down at her outfit and rolled your eyes. She was just wearing a black ruffled top and jeans, and not the dress Momo had bought her. She still looked great though, so you choose not to complain.

After many hours of talking among your former classmates, exchanging contact, and talking about your job, you constantly kept on edge, keeping your eye on Aizawa as he walked around, saying hello to every single student and other teacher, Mic staying beside his side for the most part, and Shinso staying near him for some of it. Watching Shinso, you saw him and how he avoided all his classmates. He didn’t make eye contact with the classmates, and refused to talk to anyone really. He had not changed personalities anyway over the past ten years, and you almost felt sorry for him. At least he had gotten a new girlfriend. You couldn’t help but wonder how he was doing mentally. He looked absolutely ripped, but his undereye bags were terrible and his hair was just as messy since high school.

Finally, the main part started, and you began to get prepared. Holding hands with Jirou to your left, and Momo to your right, you felt a sense of blending in with the audience. You made sure to observe the people around you, and keep your thoughts to yourself as you evaluated each and every person. Finally, your main subject, Eraserhead, stepped into the main room. You left your girlfriends and stepped next to Eraserhead, smiling. “May I? Looks like you’re lonely.” You smiled, seeing that Mic was currently busy, operating the lights and speakers as he pleased. He refused to let anyone else do it but him. “Don’t play me Y/n. I know your job, and I know why you’re here.” Your older teacher looked away from you, before you nudged him playfully. “So, is that a no? Or an absolutely yes?” You smiled playfully as he looked back at you and grinned. “You haven’t changed a bit. Good.” He offered you his arm and you grabbed it, making your way to the seats offered for you. Your boss has made sure you had a seat right next to Aizawa. 

Over the next half hour, speeches were made, food was served, and laughs were shared. It was a joyful time, but you couldn’t help but look for Aizawa. He was all over the place, as if he was trying to get away from you. Finally, people began dancing. Getting nervous, you quickly got up and walked towards the teacher. 

“May I have this dance?” You grinned cheekily at him as he turned to you, unamused by your humor. “How about you leave me alone? I don’t need my former student protecting me. It’s my job as a hero to protect you.” He explained, but you just shook your head, stepping closer. “No way Sir. It is my job to protect you, and only you quite literally.” You winked at him, joking again. Finally, you turned your head and gave him your puppy-dog eyes. “How about that dance?” He nodded and grabbed your, smiling as you both began to make your way to the dance floor.

He told you about his recent retirement, and how he and Mic had been spending their recent times in their secret vacation home down South in the islands. You then began telling him about how you had gotten into a relationship with two of your fellow students, and he told you how happy he was for you all. “You girls were always close. I’m so happy, you deserve as many lovers as you desire.” He commented, making you suddenly so happy. “Mic dated two people once in elementary school. He was… such the player.” You both laughed, before Aizawa looked down at his phone. “Speak of the devil.” You noticed that Aizawa had gotten a text from Mic. “Excuse me for a minute.” Aizawa went to walk away towards the hallway, before looking back at you, seeing your worry. “I’ll be fine. Mic is waiting for me on the balcony.”

You nodded, going to sit down when you suddenly saw Mic looking around. “Has anyone seen my phone?” He yelled out, walking around. It took you a minute to realize it, but you quickly jumped up and looked at him. “Where’s Aizawa?!” You asked him loudly, causing some people to look at you strangely. “I… I don’t know, wasn’t he just with you?” Mic asked, looking at you strangely with confusion in his expression. “Oh god. Oh god!” You ran to the door that Aizawa had walked out, before pulling and pushing on it. It was stuck. Looking around, and then at the ceiling, you began to see a light green, almost neon, mist coming out of the sprinklers. “Everyone cover your mouths!” You screamed, bringing your shirt up to your mouth as the mist began to get thicker in the air. People began coughing, and everyone began freaking out. “Y/n?! Y/n!” You looked over to see Jirou and Momo running towards you. Jirou began to have trouble breathing, coughing and such since her shirt was very thin and not useful as a mask. 

“Momo, make an explosion and get everyone out. I’ll need all the back up I can get. Also, tell everyone to get low. This gas rises high and won’t settle on the ground.” You commanded your girlfriend, before Jirou turned to you. “What about you?” She asked, fear and panic in her eyes. “I’m going to go save our teacher.” You smiled, kissed her cheek, and ran off. Using your quirk, you were able to walk through the walls and see that the door has been blocked off by dozens of pieces of heavy furniture, too heavy for you. Finally, you were able to breathe. “Aizawa?!” You screamed, following the sound of slight mumbling through the dozens and dozens of hallways. 

Suddenly, you heard laughing, and turned around, knowing that the villain was right around the corner. You recognized that laugh… “Shinny?” You called out, hearing the laughing stop suddenly. He knew you were there. And you knew he was there. And he knew you knew he was there.

“Shinny? What are you doing?” You asked, eyes wide. With the way you were pretending, you made sure to look sad and betrayed. “Oh Y/n… I’m sorry.” He whispered at you. Looking out, you saw that they were on the balcony, Aizawa about to jump five stories off, but he wasn’t his normal self. Shinso had Aizawa under his control. “Shinso, please don’t do this.” You mumbled, walking towards him. You had to use Shinso’s love for you against him, something you thought you’d never do. “Oh Y/n, I have to. I have to make a name for myself as a villain, and taking out a big-time hero like this will jump-start my career.” He tried to explain, but you just shook his head. “Now, it’s time. Aizawa-” You interrupted Shinso, keeping him from instructing Aizawa to jump. “You knew I’d get out of there. You know my quirk Shinso. You knew I’d get out. Why?” You asked as you kept walking towards him. “I… I want you to join me Y/n. There’s a little bit of me that still wants to become a villain, but I want to do it with you. Please. Join me.” He reached his hand out towards you, and you instantly grabbed it. 

Walking towards him, you kissed him, and felt his hands grab onto your body. You could tell he wanted this, and you regretted what you would have to do next. You overpowered him, using every ounce of strength, and pushed him to the ground. “Hitoshi Shinso, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be used against you in the name of law.” You dragged handcuffs out of your pockets and whipped them around his hands, sitting on top of him as you did so. Before he could speak, you got out a piece of tape and stuck it to his mouth. As Shinso panicked, he lost control, and Aizawa quickly fell back onto the balcony, now fully awake and safe. 

“Y/n… I don’t know what happened, he-” You patted his head, smiling softly at the adult man on the ground who was now shaken up and scared. “It’s fine now Aizawa, he’s not going to hurt a fly again. Right Shinny?” You slapped Shinso against the face very softly and smiled, knowing he was hating every second of this. “T-Thank you. I’m sorry about earlier, you did great, I-” You shushed Aizawa, feeling happy about your mission becoming a success. “Just doing my job. You may even call me your hero.” 

The other students and faculty met up with you, all of them acquiring gas masks made by Momo herself, which she was very proud of. Mic was quick to hug Aizawa, and your girls were quick to hug you. They had been scared, not knowing if you were okay or not while they all struggled to get the door open. Finally, Momo had looked up how to make dynamite, and had blown up the doorway and the surrounding halls. Looking out onto everyone, you began to see everyone’s true nature again. Deku had been crying, Shinso had been keeping Izuku sane, Bakugo had been angry at you for going out on your own, and Kirishima was boasting about how manly you were to anyone who would listen. You only stopped for a second before looking down at the street to see Shinso being taken away in handcuffs. “Well, I’ve got to go. Duty calls.” You smiled at your girls, kissing them and beginning to walk away, hearing hoots, hollers, and farewells at your back.

You didn’t need to say goodbye, because it was not. Aizawa and Mic would send flowers to your office, Denki would want to play video games and catch up as if you were still teenagers, Bakugo and Kirishima would invite the Bakusquad over to grill out, you would see your girlfriends at home that night, Deku and Todoroki would want to have a couples getaway, Mina, Asui and Ochako would want to have a Girls Night out, and Iida… Well you saw Iida on missions a lot anyways, and you two were already heavily close. You were close with the entire class, and you were happy to see that even over 10 years, nothing had really changed about life.

Down at the street, you waved to your fellow cops before getting in the front seat next to your partner, and looking at the back mirror towards Shinso. “So… you’re a cop now?” He asked, watching you nod at his question. “Glad one of us is doing something with their life. Good for you.” He remarked as you looked out the window. In the side mirror, you could see Shinso begin to smile. He really was happy for you, and you knew that when he got out of jail, you’d be there for him to, hopefully to help him find his purpose in life too. Maybe he would find his own version of Momo and Jirou.

[rejectofsociety]

Febuwhump: Day Twenty

Prompt: Betrayal

Summary: Peter and Quentin have always worked so, so hard for Tony and Stark Industries. They just wish he was more appreciative. — not your typical tale of betrayal 

Word Count: 2570

Warnings: not for IronDad lovers

Written for: @febuwhump 

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞　　∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

Peter scrolled through the endless lines of code, his reddened and exhausted eyes struggling to stay open as he squinted at the screen. He was dizzy and lightheaded, his stomach growled hungrily, and his back was aching horribly. Frustration fogged up his head and his jaw was painfully tense— he hadn’t moved since becoming obsessed with the task at hand the day before.

“You’re still here?” Quentin spoke from behind him, “I thought you went home.”

Peter tore his eyes away from the screen and looked at his work partner, “I was gonna go home, but I can’t find the bug in the code. Something’s glitching real bad.”

Quentin sighed and rested his hand on the younger man’s shoulder, “take a break and let me take a look.”

“No, I got it,” Peter assured.

“Peter, that’s an order,” he stated.

Peter heaved a sigh then nodded, “thank you, Quentin.”

“Anytime. You can take a nap on the couch if you want.”

He bobbed his head again then stood up wearily, Quentin taking his place at the desk.

The two had been working tirelessly to get their holographic technology done by its due date. It needed to be tested countless times and given the “stamp of approval” before it could be presented to the public. Their boss, Tony, checked in from time to time, always checking their progress and adding to their lengthy to-do list. Quentin had been working on the project since he first earned his Stark Industries internship at a surprisingly young age and had dreamed about it even longer. He was the mastermind behind the whole operation and Peter had started tagging along a few years ago when he gained his internship. Like Quentin, he had been rather young when he became an intern which may have been one of the reasons the two got along so well— they had a lot in common, including being under appreciated by their boss.

“Hey, get up,” Tony barked, making Peter jolt awake. Then he looked back at Quentin, “do you seriously let him sleep on the job?”

“He hasn’t slept in-“

“It was my fault, sir,” Peter groggily interrupted, “I’ve been slacking lately.”

“Get some coffee and get back to work,” Tony ordered.

“Yessir,” Peter sighed and stood up.

Tony eyed Peter for a moment and frowned, “kid, you look like trash, everything okay?”

I’m overworked, underpaid, and you’re my boss— nothing is okay, Peter thought bitterly but forced himself to smile slightly, “everything’s fine, Mister Stark. Just a little tired.”

With that, he quickly left Quentin’s lab with his head down as he mentally cursed himself for getting caught napping. That was an easy way to lose his job.

Peter pulled out his phone as he waited for his coffee to be ready. There were three texts awaiting his attention: one from Ned, one from Aunt May, and one from Michelle.

-

May: I know your work is important, but don’t forget to take care of yourself ❤️

Ned: are we still on for lunch today?

MJ: where are you?

-

Peter sighed softly, texted his reassurance to May, regretfully canceled his plans with Ned, then clicked on Michelle’s contact and called her. If he remembered her schedule properly, she didn’t have any classes at the moment and wouldn’t have any for the next forty to thirty minutes.

“Peter, you bailed on our date,” Michelle stated when she picked up the phone, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I-“

“You would’ve been at the restaurant if nothing’s wrong.”

“I had to stay late at work, there was a bug in the system and-“ he sighed heavily, “baby, I’m so sorry I missed our date, I was really looking forward to it. But Quentin and I are so, so close to finishing this project, it’s driving my fucking crazy.”

“You two have been working on that one ever since I met you,” Michelle observed, “can I see it when you finish?”

“Yes!” Peter agreed excitedly, “I would love for you to see it. Ned and May can come too.”

“That’d be nice... are we ever going to reschedule that date or...”

“Um,” he tapped his toes thoughtfully, “we’ll probably have to wait until Quentin and I finish this up. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she hesitated before continuing, “I gotta go. Call me later?”

“First chance I get.”

“Good. I love you, Peter.”

“I love you too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Peter sighed and hung up. Both he and Quentin had been pouring their hearts and souls into this invention, neglecting relationships with friends, family, and partners in the process. It would be worth it in the end, it had to be worth it.

Before pocketing his phone, Peter caught a glimpse at a text from Quentin.

-

Quentin: make sure to get something to eat. I don’t think you ate anything yesterday

-

Peter smiled softly then looked up when his name was called for the order: an espresso for himself and an iced coffee for Quentin. He hadn’t asked for coffee, but he knew him well enough that he would love an iced coffee right about now.

“Is that all, sir?” The barista asked.

“Two bagels would be nice, please,” Peter requested.

“Plain?”

“Yes please.”

“Alright—“ she fetched two bagels for him, “—here you go.”

He thanked her briefly then hurried back to Quentin’s lab. Guilt towards missing his date with Michelle made his stomach twist into awkward knots. I’m not doing that again, Peter mentally promised, I have to finish this soon. It’s not fair to MJ or Ned that I keep having to cancel plans with them to work on this. But I feel like we’re so close! And they were, they were so painfully close to finishing this project they could practically feel victory brushing their fingertips. What would really make the experience whole was when Tony presented the Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing to the world which would stare in awe at the invention. They would look up at it and know that Quentin and Peter made that— it was theirs and now they finally got to share it with the world.

“Did you find the bug?” Peter asked as he arrived at Quentin’s side and set the coffee and bagel down next to him.

“Thank you,” Quentin briefly took a sip of the coffee before answering, “there wasn’t actually a bug.”

“Wait- what? How? I-“

“It was a missing line of code,” he explained then tapped the screen with one finger, “right here.”

“Oh, geez,” he rubbed his eyes with one hand, “I feel like an idiot now.”

“Don’t. No one is capable of functioning properly when they’re dehydrated, hungry, and running on an hour of sleep,” he assured, “now take a seat, please.”

Peter pulled up a chair next to Quentin and took a sip of espresso. The two got right to work with perfecting their creation.

Peter was undoubtedly the best work partner Quentin could have possibly asked for. He was obedient, freakishly smart, observant, he could go on forever with praises to be honest but, most importantly, the boy was always willing to learn and take criticism. That alone was the one reason Quentin allowed Peter anywhere near their project. He had originally planned to lone it and was actually pissed off when Tony introduced the young intern to him as a work partner, but Peter quickly proved himself and Quentin was more than happy to take him under his wing.

Years later, here they were— not just colleagues, but close friends who would work until their dying breath to finish their damned project.

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Many months later, the day had finally come. Quentin and Peter’s project that had eaten up the past several years of their lives was now about to be presented by Tony Stark himself. The two inventors were practically trembling with excitement backstage as Tony’s presentation began.

Pride and joy swelled up inside Peter’s chest as he took in the beauty of the Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing. Six years of missed dates, skipped meals, broken promises, and neglecting self-care all for this creation which was now magnificently brought to life. It was almost like watching a child walk for the first time or speak its first words. And how could he forget the reaction of his loved ones! The way their eyes sparkled like diamonds with wonder and awe while May hugged and praised her niece, and Peter had implored that Quentin got all the credit as Quentin insisted he couldn’t have done it without his trusty partner, and Ned had fangirled for minutes on end before he could even properly spit out a coherent sentence, and Michelle beamed at her boyfriend with undeniable delight in her eyes. Peter wished he could have shown the entire world how joyous and full of wonder his girlfriend was in that moment. She had never seen anything that even remotely resembled his and Quentin’s hard work— no one had! It was completely knew to the world. Even Tony had praised the two! And now here Peter was, backstage with Quentin by his side as the students of MIT were seconds away from being the first public audience to set eyes on their glorious project.

Peter had been so caught up in the euphoria of his thoughts, that he had momentarily gone blind to the world around him. But, when he awoke, time seemed to be halted by four little words leaving Tony’s mouth as he enchanted the student audience.

“... my little therapeutic experiment...”

Peter seemed to jolt to life at those words, and not in a pleasant way. For a moment, he was certain he had imagined the statement.

“Quentin—“ Peter looked at his partner, who’s jaw was tight as he scowled at Tony, “—did... did he just call our project his ‘little therapeutic experiment,’ or have I completely lost my shit?”

“Oh, he said that alright,” Quentin replied, hardly seeming to process the moment himself, “and he named it B.A.R.F.”

Peter tore his eyes away and stared at the ground as he processed the moment. Maybe it shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did- no. No, this was a perfectly justifiable sense of betrayal. Because with four little words, Tony had swiped Peter’s greatest accomplishment right out of his hands. The billionaire had claimed Peter and Quentin’s life’s work and belittled it into something as simple and insignificant as a little therapeutic experiment.

For the rest of the brief presentation, Peter strained his ears and silently begged to hear his and Quentin’s names— Quentin’s at least. He needed anything at all just to acknowledge that Quentin Beck and Peter Parker were the inventors of the masterpiece that Tony presented as if it were his own. But, no! Tony ended his presentation and was met with thunderous applause while never having said their names once— it was as if he had completely forgotten about their existence.

“Let’s go, Peter,” Quentin hissed as he whirled around.

Peter didn’t bother commenting and followed his mentor, both equally matched in anger. No one seemed to notice the two inventors as they stormed out of the facility, their heads fogged with fury. The moment they were out the exit, Peter practically exploded.

“He didn’t say your name once! Not once!” He cried, “did he forget?!”

“No, he doesn’t care,” Quentin snapped as he got into the driver’s seat of his car and Peter joined him in the passenger’s seat, “to Tony, we’re just the elves in his toy shop. He doesn’t give a shit about us.”

Peter huffed, his entire body hot and rushing with anger, “this isn’t over, Quentin. Tomorrow we’re gonna shred his ass for this.”

“Why tomorrow?” Quentin asked as he drove away, “why not today? We have time.”

“Because today, I need two things: a drink and a designated driver.”

Quentin nodded and started on a route to the nearest bar, “I think you got the right idea, kid.”

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“Whatever you two want, make it quick,” Tony demanded tiredly the next day when his two employees stood in his office. “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.”

“I just wanted to say you gave a pretty great presentation yesterday,” Quentin began passively while Peter stood like a stern statue at his side. “Except... I think you might have forgotten something.”

Tony furrowed his brow, “I don’t think- what did I forget?”

Quentin rested his hands on the desk and leaned forward slightly with a harsh glower, “the mother fuckers who made it possible.”

Tony stood up and took a step back, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Peter and I made that Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing technology,” he clarified, disgusted that Tony seemed so confused, “and you didn’t even bother to mention us. You called it your experiment!”

“And?”

“And it’s not! It’s not yours. It’s ours— Quentin and Peter’s— life work. I have been busting my ass off since day one for this! And the night you present it to the world, you forget my fucking name!” Quentin barked.

“What do you want me to do?!” Tony shot back, rapidly growing defensive.

“I want my tech to be branded with my name. Not yours! You get all the recognition you could ever want— not because you’ve worked for it, but because you have the money for it! Have you ever once thought about the people like Peter and I? We work our asses off, we neglect relationships, we go days without sleep, we break our promises, we fucking ruin ourselves for year! Years, Tony! And our names never see the light of day!” He ranted, “don’t you think we deserve at least and ounce of respect and recognition?”

Tony was quiet a moment, glaring a stone cold glare into Quentin’s furious gaze. Peter stared hostilely at his boss, never once moving or interjecting— Quentin had taken the words right out of his mouth.

“And what about you, kid,” Tony inquired, “what do you think?”

“With all disrespect,” he said, “I completely agree with him. You don’t give a flying fuck about us and we’re sick of it.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He had too much on his hands to deal with two upset employees at the moment.

“You’re both incredibly unstable,” he declared, “you’re fired.”

“What?” Peter and Quentin spoke in unison.

“You heard me,” he repeated impatiently, “you’re fired. Both of you get your shit out of your lab and get out!”

Peter actually managed an amused smirk and bitter laugh, “gladly. Let’s go, Quentin.”

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“Man, I’m pissed that he fired us,” Peter said a while later as the two lounged in Quentin’s living room, “but it was so satisfying to hear you yell at him, I almost don’t care. At least not right now.”

Quentin smiled slightly and took a sip of beer, “at least you can focus on your girlfriend now.”

Peter nodded, “yeah...” his voice trailed off then his eyes lit up, “Quentin, Tony hit us hard and where it hurt— he honestly betrayed what little trust we gave him. And I wanna hit him back, and I wanna hit him hard.”

This caught Quentin’s attention and he sat up and leaned forward, “absolutely.”

The two went quiet and their minds raced with one idea after another, their thirst for revenge driving their every move. Peter wrung his hands together and bounced his knee as he came up with lists of possibilities.

For the past several hours, since having their tech swept away from them, the two had been simultaneously furious and depressed with defeat. Now, they were hungry for a victory and it wouldn’t take them long to figure out exactly how they’d get there.

“Tony thinks we’re unstable?” Peter muttered to himself with a mischievous smirk, “I’ll show him what unstable really means.”