#it's a trustfall baby

[pharlapcartoonist]

Close your eyes and leave it all behind Go where love is on our side It's a trustfall, baby It's a trustfall, baby You and I and everyone alive We can run into the fire It's a trustfall, baby Yeah, it's a trustfall, baby Jump with me, come with me, burn like the sun We'll talk, then we'll cry, then we'll laugh 'til we're done Oh, my, it's like we're out our minds

Trustfall - Pink

[court-jobi]

Trustfall

(gif from Pinterest)

Pairing: Din Djarin x biker!Reader

Words: 8,865

Rating: Teen & Up, (mature themes, but not graphic)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, chase scene action, catcalling, skeevey sleemos, brief descrip of injuries/roadburn, consensual touching, injury care, FEELINGS, fluff to intimacy, first kiss #thehelmetcomesoff ((fem reader, mild descriptions of features, hair etc.))

Summary: Most jobs' occupational hazards may include some warnings for heavy machinery: not 3rd degree roadburn and blaster shots to the face. Just your luck, that's what happens in your line of work.... While your partner-in-not-quite-crime Din Djarin has quite a bit of on-the-job experience with patching himself up after his skirmishes, tending to yourself after a shitshow like this is new territory. Some things are just too tender to see from behind the helmet-- and need the naked eye.

Sounds like he really needs to trust you if he's going to give you help with this one...

"I'm not going without you- -and you're not going alone" -P!nk, 2023

AN: thank you from the bottom of my heart, internet strangers, for the love for my little stories... this is a long one! here's to the countdown to season 3 finale, and a dose of feminine rage, badassery, and fluff to soften the landing~

For my Star Wars | Mandalorian Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

Anywhere in the galaxy you turn, there's a place you can navigate like the back of your hand: simply find where the drinks are flowing. Every watering hole may have its tricky language and even trickier problems, but the money's always good, and no questions are asked of you. 

At a cantina, you rely on this. Here, you know you can easily fall back to old habits in an instant. Safety first, of course. 

The rundown: where's the doors, where's the bouncers, where’s the barkeep and where's the biggest guy in the room. You've trained yourself to  look for gaps, low traffic areas where you could make a quick dash out if things are looking sideways. Do all those things as fast as you can, too, because everything can change in a second. Tables can flip over like a credit chip– tempers, all the more quick to the draw. Oh, and don't be suspicious. Give a little smile if you can chance it– unassuming glances always make folks feel better.

But it's a bit different now. You don't bother to look up when you cross the threshold of a new place. You don't dissect all these fine details. After all, you've got a green baby that's twisting in his sling across your hips that has your attention split, and he comes first. 

That's a full time job on its own… and whenever he comes along for the day, you don't forget the best part of the arrangement you find yourself in. 

You've got a bounty hunter in stride. Worry is the furthest thing from your mind. He’s got you. 

Upon first entry, the Mandalorian you've been hyperspace hopping with comes in like he'd likely done hundreds of times before. He's no stranger to reading a room, either. Though this time, with you and the little one tucked away in your crossbody, the company he keeps is completely different. This dynamic is far from your norm, but there’s so many things you love about it– and as it turns out, the feeling is mutual. He tells you so, that you don’t have to worry when he’s with you. 

You buckled in the kiddo yourself– a break for Mando's still-tender shoulder. The scuffle you'd just come from not twelve hours ago was still fresh in both your minds– not that your sabacc face showed it. He appreciated your offering to keep tabs and hold him today. Still gotta fix his pod after the 'swimming incident' last week… after this payday, maybe you two could swing it after your winnings arrive. 

Heading towards his unofficial corner of this planet's best underground lounge, Mando picked up through his peripherals the bits of chatter– no… -hunger- coming from some of the smaller pods of wranglers. Their attention wasn't due to the shinier beskar plates he wore. No, it was all aimed at his newfound companion. 

They're all looking at you… not that you notice.

One in particular caught Mando’s honed attention as you neared, passing him to the bartop while he waited. The man wasn't the biggest in size, but Mando knew this type; that smarmy smile told him he’s thinking himself roguishly handsome, but made of complete slime and bantha-shit.

“Bike’s out back~” you paused by the bar to pick up the drink you’d nodded for, and made a convincing-looking fake sip while sticking close to his side. “-unregistered. Pokka dropped it off this morning for a nearby delivery run. It’s not the prettiest thing, but it’ll do in a pinch for a two-seater.” 

Just after that line left your lips, something in the schmuck’s eye and his low murmur to his buddy. A near growl about the ‘not the only thing I'd pinch– pretty thing, coming right up’ made your partner turn with micro-precision in the direction of the smugglers–

–and catch your hand with a fierceness. Right in front of their table.

You're surprised by the sudden gesture. 

When he did let go around the back of the row of booths, the Mandalorian more or less guided you by the small of your back instead. If anyone were invested enough past their drink's contents to be watching, they’d find you in a half embrace. This move allowed Mando the space to tuck you into his side with a corralling arm. You'd honestly not registered what he’d witnessed until he fell back to your pace with a gentle ‘this way’. A pod of spacers were gawking– at the shiny guy loaded to the gils with blasters, you thought. 

Now closer, you had less room, but still managed enough to swing the munchkin to your front. The ‘bag’ made a little noise- an indignant question at your description of the ride you’d secured.

“Sorry, excuuuse me- three seater! Two and a half more like, with your size...”

Situating yourself with some disappointed looks your way, you took the near end of the bench Mando directed you to. Didn’t take much to know not to keep eye contact too long with any of these unsavory characters around you, so you kept to yourself. Once Mando slid in from the opposite side, you asked him, 

"Quite the crowd huh?--oof–"-

Rather than allow the space for the little guy in between you, Mando slid in right beside you: an arm behind you and a small thud of his heavy fist on the table. The tracer clacked as it landed in front of him.

Someone's got him acting testy. You eyed your hunter as he brooded; a small twinkle flitted behind your eyes, 

“See someone you know?" you asked.

"No." the Mandalorian spat out, curtly.

"Then what's wrong?"

His helmet turned to you, then ahead again.

"I didn't like how they were looking at you."

You bristled, really checking the room for the first time, managing the kid in your lap with a little glance. From the moment you took stock of the table nearest you, their quick darts in your direction told you just how rusty you were. They’re all locked onto you. 

The whole point of your taking the kiddo for Mando was to seem less out of place, not a target.

“You don’t– think folks all the way out here are gonna go after him?” Nervousness flared in your voice, though for the sake of appearances, you didn't dare let it show on your face, “Who even reads the Imp notices anymore? This whole town’s a glorified farming dustball-”

Mando corrected you, “Not him.” 

He murmured that into your shoulder like it was obvious.

A stunted breath tripped up your budding confusion. 

"Well, if it's not the sight of a baby in a bar making them creep, what then?”

“You.”

Not for the first time, you checked the look of yourself. It’s what you faced from the reflection of the beskar cheek looking back at you when you addressed him– never his face, but yours. Then, to the room. Sure, you weren’t so rough-and-tough looking from the outside, but–

"..Hold on." Flatly, you turned towards him; a quarter turn from your cozy spot. "You're saying I'm the distraction here."

All you got  in response was a little quirk of the helmet. 

You bristled, “I’m not the only-”

“I know you’re not,” he hushed you again, still scanning his sights across the venue like a sentry camera, “but these bantha-breaths are all the same when it comes to- distractions.” 

Your eyes fluttered in a muted roll. “And you think that’s new?”

“New to me.”

“Cmon. All this? You’ve gotten plenty of looks before.”

“Not the way they were watching you. The kid had nothing to do with it.”

You never take having such protective company for granted, but Mando's insinuation that you're bringing unwanted attention was surprising– and irritating.

“Please. You flatter me, I hardly think I’m the biggest draw in the room, hon.” you settled in. Harmless, but indignant, “You want me to really up the appeal? Then we should have planned ahead, and set up a rotation for me in the dance schedule.”

His gloves crackled at the creases– their grip unmistakable, “That’s an invitation for trouble.”

“No, messing with you is an invitation for trouble. I’m not trouble.”

“May not mean to, but you might cause us some.”

In truth, this observation wasn't unfounded; of the scarred, sweaty hunters and mechanics that filled this bar, you'd likely look out of place somewhere half this packed… and there’s no mistaking with the way you’re dressed that you are no fair-eyed performer like the real beauties in here. Sure your face under the visor shield might tell a different story when you appear more intimidating on the road, but here on this world, you passed over the need for even a 

This was your job, and not your first time in this line of work. You wore the kit, you didn't strut or flaunt your stuff around, and you certainly never drank on the job either. Just looked and played the part you needed to. If he didn’t want you to come meet the contact, then why ask you to join him? The whole point of this plan was to be seen very publicly as a united front, so you wouldn't be suspected of funny business; even if that was going to be your specialty after you start phase two: divide and conquer, as you always do.

Plans change, sure– but only when things turn sideways… not when he’s got some alpha male jealous streak going on behind that bucket of his. That hand grab earlier proved it.

Mando just took centering deep breaths while you ran out of accommodating alternatives. 

“Well, then, what do you want me to do?” the short candor that came out of your mouth wasn’t in your nature– but this was getting annoying, how short he’s acting. He’s not normally this snippy with you… “What, ‘wait by the tram’ till you come out, so I don't tinge that reputation of yours?”

The helm regarded you, then shook off– like he was redacting on the spot.

“I- didn't mean-”

And the backpedaling,

“-Fine.” 

No use fighting for a place you shouldn't be in the first place, because it would only make his job more difficult. Feelings or not, you weren’t out to throw a wrench in the operation just for the sake of your involvement. 

And even if your reason hadn’t won out, you sure weren't up for a soapbox moment either– despite its occupancy in your chest. 

You unstrapped the kid from yourself and placed him in your spot, 

“See ya in a bit, bud,” you laced a kindness into your voice- a sweetness just for him, “Maybe your dad will get his job done better without 'arm candy' throwing off his mojo."

Beelining it to the backdoor, you carried on steaming. You didn't bother looking back, which also meant you missed the Mandalorian’s lock on you the whole way across the rounded bar. Not that you had any doubts that he would be watching you; in fact, you counted on it. But you knew with even more certainty that he wouldn’t stop you. Not when there’s a job to do. You’re just going to set out on yours early. 

Though you may not always see alike, there’s yet to be a final say that makes you not trust him so far. You’ll change the plan, call ‘plot twist’ and go right along with him.

Maybe one of these days he’ll begin to trust you at your word… do Mandalorians even do that with folks who aren’t their kind?

It's a job. A job you can do damn well. So, back to old habits it is. Keep the bike warm and ready for go-time.

In your retreat, you caught a comm from him. Just a blip and slight vibration that caught your attention on your wrist: 

/be careful/

– and just like that, all the temper heating your neck and chest: shocked by a bucket of cold, graciously vigilant water.

Your Mandalorian couldn't resist.. and you really couldn't fault him for it. 

You stopped at the door, slowing as the two words staring back at you made you come to a standstill. Checking back and finding that the man's brilliantly shiny helmet had indeed stayed tracked on you the whole time sent that pang in you alive and burning. A little breath huffed from your nose, but you didn't scowl at him. 

It's just in his nature, he can't turn that off. 

You looked back and nodded.

'I will'. 

“Fancy seeing a livin' breathin' angel who knows her way around a rig~” 

Outside, the smarmy man you'd missed noticing before made good on his interest in you and racked up his courage to act on it. He swaggered over to you by the open air skybike model you’d secured. 

As aloof as he could seem, with that peacocking chest on full display…. He’d even set one of his holsters off to the side, a clear invitation for you to notice another package. Ugh. 

“Vision a’ beauty in a dark, little corner like this, too…" he layered on the sugar,"Must be my lucky day, I tell ya!”

You weren’t having this pathetic attempt. 

“Does this actually work on women…” You leveled your face.

Felt good, giving him a stare down before going back to your solid watch of the back door. 

“C’mon now, pretty thing,” more swaggered steps towards you had your insides cringing– and had you moving ‘round the speeder to the mount side, “Couldn’t keep my eyes off’a ya in there– yer a stunner!”

And you don’t take a hint. “Not interested– I’m working.” Kept talking, too, like your words had just been a sneeze. 

“Thought you was that bounty hunter’s girl, but ah-” he comically searched the perimeter of the garage, “--don't see ‘im nowhere.”

You scrolled through your wristcom, “If you did, I’d be sweating if I were you.”

“Got the hots for him, do ya? ‘R are you just friendly is all?”

It took every ounce within you not to react. Don’t give him fodder, just watch the door and keep a  level head. Like he does. 

You cursed yourself. Mando really did have the eyes of a hawk-bat inside. Meanwhile, you were getting rusty– or just far too comfortable. 

Still, this moron was clearly set on poking the still-tender temper inside of you.

“Thinkin,” he made every move to sidle up to you, “I don’t have yer name, sweet’art- whaddthey call ya?”

“Look– I’m not here for my health. Buzz off.” You won’t be getting it.

And another step, to come lean on the front dash- “Right then– I get to guess. Sweetie, it is~”

Some sanity passed through your head, and you figured… the more you talk to this joker, the more he’ll try his luck. A hand on the palmbar, you revved the bike to full power; making your ‘Leech’ jump back, immediately floundering–

“Hey, hey, hey!!” and his sights roved over you, and in an instant, you equally revved his engines, “Ah, bit of fire in ya, huh? Like that in a bitch… Sure you know how to ride this beauty? or I can show you the ropes~”

You finally let your disgust show.

-and thank the Maker for the comm beep to save you. Your partner’s speech-to-text came through on your wrist tab,

//Making an exit//

//Which bay did you clear//

All too grateful, you typed back the number plastered on the overhead air systems installed above you. 

It took a bite of your tongue to keep from writing back a fuller response:

/Listen to the sound of this skug-bag’s jaw hitting the floor- that’s where I’ll be/

but instead you mounted after a quick couple letter keys.

“Well, it’s been a not-so-lovely chat here,” you upturned your own helmet with a flourish, “But after the loss of these braincells I can never get back, I gotta run and make my pickup now.”

The man made a last attempt to lean in over your from the front handlebars, 

“Nah, c’mon, gorgeous, I’ll make it worth your time real good. What’s the hurry? Sure there’s no harm in a bit a’ hooky?”

You laughed high in the back of your throat, giving gushy-sweetness back, with a side of ice–

“Not on your life, sleemo. Door to Hell is open, I hear.”

Then with the pop of your helmet on, you floored a fast reverse and drove off to leave him in the dust.

It almost occurred to you when you paused again to see what became of him, but you were shocked that he was in fact coming after you– with a gang of about four other men. Not that you could make out clearly what they were joshing about in the metallic hangar, but the slang they used about what features were hidden by your clothes was obvious…

The door you parked by remained silent when you rolled up; meaning you’d probably met Mando too soon. He likely wasn’t ‘a few moments away’ after all. And the gang who’s laughing so boisterous was nearing the exit ramp that would take them straight to you.

You tapped the wrist comm again, speaking directly. 

“Got company out here too, Mando,” you firmed up, “Bit of nasty company if that makes a difference!”

In a blink’s time, the audio came back, blaster fire sparkling through the speaker, 

“Same shits from the bar?”

You chortled, then answered clearly,

“Yup. Bold guys, up close.”

“I’ve got their buddies inside too.”

“Well kriffin’– do you need backup in there then?” Your slow reverse and frantic scooting along the floor looking for someplace inconspicuous -and quick- to hide your ride flew through your mind as you came up with plan ‘B’. “I’ll stash this, and lay lower inside.”

“No time– Take a lap– don’t stay where you are–” the Mandalorian blurted out.

You heard the rev of the gang’s engines as they idled around the exit ramp, “Or could you just put a rush on it? I’m already right here–”

“I’ll find you,” he stressed. “DO NOT engage them–”

But before you could snap back with–

“Guess you’re in need of a new boyfriend after all, Sweetie Pie!”

The crass voices appeared from above. While you’d slowed and chatted, they’d hopped the roof and made to bear down on you. The newcomers to the group, a couple Trandoshans and another Kel Door with a new retrofitted mask roved over you like you were a batch of Quarren hot-pot.

Oh, that blaster at your side was tempting… but you revved into top gear, and changed the route again. 

Keep away it is. Just ‘till the boys show up. 

In the end, you lose your seedy admirers after your third pass around. Touch and go driving proved in your favor, messing with their sloppy sense of acceleration with each lap around the back parking area. That was perhaps your saving grace– letting their inebriated states affect their pursuit instead of performing on the offensive– but it was short lived. 

Your first chatty Leech gets a corner up on you and forces your trek on the inner wall, where the backdoors line the complex. At this stretch of buildings, there weren’t any more service ladders like where Mando was going to meet you. 

Coincidentally, there were garbage units separating where that former landing zone was to where you are now. So when you skidded to a perfect stop, Leech rammed into the back and managed to jam his front end into the back of your second-seat attachment. Lovely. A flare of alarm chilled your back– feeling him far too close for comfort. 

The blaster you carry is holsted between you- he’d see if you turned to grab it. You’ll have to slip down for your vibroblade if he tries to grab you.

And of course now is when he comes out of the far backdoor– 

The Mandalorian burst from the firefight in the back door and -0ki whipped around the railing looking for you. The munchkin spots you first, and with your visor’s magnification, you see his smile- and subsequent squeal- which drags the Mandalorian’s attention to you.

From clear across the divide, his blaster raised and you leveled down with your handlebars: like he showed you.

“Hey now, friend! I was just returnin’ yer lovely thing to you!” the man’s voice flipped up several octaves in defense. 

The maglock between your bikes activated, and he dragged you in reverse ever so slowly, 

“Been runnin’ me and my crew like wild around the place. Been a fun chase- yeh must have yer hands full of this girl-”

Mando shot the man’s acceleration chamber till it hissed– stopping him in his tracks.

“You stay.”

You bashed the man’s face with a harsh elbow while his sights are down.

“YOU CRA-”, he recoiled with a bear swipe while you dismounted to try and fling him off– “--AH!”

But another shot grazed the man’s foot, making him slump onto his speeder.

He’s buying you time. 

Running through your mental catalog, you risked the man’s pain-induced split focus to detach your bikes from his panel’s shortcuts– but didn’t miss the Mandalorian’s next shout,

“Touch her and you lose your head next.”

You smirked under your visor. He’s gonna take him out anyway, you just know it. Swinging your ride back around to where you can remount never felt so good. 

Now, you really did try to avoid close calls like this as much as you can manage. But if nothing else, this run-in proved you could always learn a bit more, should spare reading up on grav separation, and maybe outrig yours a bit better when you get the chance…

A spared nod to the Mandalorian while you backed up– and his nod back– gave you the confirmation from the high ground that you needed. 

From your angle down low, your helm didn’t have the scope for it. But Mando’s does; you’re cleared to run the gap.

Against the exasperated Leech’s expectations, you jumped it. Sure enough, when you landed, no more jeers followed. Only yells of surprise from the guy’s crew, who were screaming around his form laid flat on the ground, some to call for a extinguisher droid for the speeder fire, another calling out for a medic…

Under the railing where Mando stands, blaster shots chink off his backplate again, signaling him to get out of there. A perfect land later, Mando mounted behind you and wedged his foundling between the both of you. 

“I take it you got it?” you asked, your modulated voice still perking up the Child’s ears.

He answered with arm wrapped tight your waist, “Got it. Drive.”

With the Mandalorian and the kid’s padded sling strapped tight to him, the three of you dipped off the ledge of the garage, leaving the bad vibes- and big paycheck -secured. 

–However, there's a gap in the antigrav you don’t account for. Turning sharp back to the main road, you slip off a level, and wipe out. Happens so fast, you don’t even breathe– just feel a punch to the gut where the front end of the bike lurches back against you when you curl forward around it as it spins against the momentum.

 The acceleration drones when it falls off kilter, the compressors go creepily silent, the metal plates grind against your eardrums, scrapes and crashes, and so do you.

The Child’s fine; if just a little dizzy when Mando curls away from his landed position behind you. Made of straight beskar steel everywhere it counts, he’s perfectly fine too. 

You? Not so lucky… You can count on one hand the amount of times over the age of fifteen where you’ve had a messy landing– and this makes the top ten. 

Crashing feking hurts. But you can still feel your legs; that’s good.

You rolled onto your back at Mando’s yell for you. He’s calling for you by name– louder and longer each time it leaves his vocoder– before you can reorganize your rattled brains enough to make any noise. A test of tilting your head proved you had range of motion. An adrenaline-high hand simply gave a thumbs up to him, even though your cheek burned. 

White hot sting radiated across your face even when you chucked your helmet off with gasps of breath, as fiery steam and dribbles of blood were dangerously seeping close to your eyeline. From your good eye squinting to the side, you caught the remnants of your smoking, stolen ride spun out amongst some employee’s stash of speeders. So much for returning that poor two-and-a-half speeder back in one piece…

The Mandalorian led you out of the hangar with a steady hand on your back- for support, this time. 

Even through the leather, you felt the pressure he gave as a buffer between you and any lingering watchers. Out in the bustle of a crowd should have provided a comforting white noise to be moving along in, fading into their routine existence through the foot traffic. But not this time; not with your ear still ringing and ears popping every time you swallow. Instead you were still shaking off the chills that creep sent when he was starting to block you in.

That hand on your back slid onto your waist, tucking you closer to him as you walked and merged with the crowd. Then, while your attentions moved to the booths, he slowed a bit and moved up to your arm.

"Are you alright?"

You lifted up, that soft tone a sharp contrast to what you’d just witnessed: as he made his threats and his kills like the hunter he was. It hadn't bothered you, in fact the protective nature of him made you feel slightly good. 

You smiled and fell into his side. You didn't realized how tightly you'd crossed your arms over your fractured helmet. His touch alone- brief as it was- encouraged you to release the tension.

"Yeah... Thanks for that." You sunk a bit. With every breath, the adrenaline ebbed more and more from you, and your cheek stung.

You both could bicker about how you had it covered another time. When there was some distance between this incident, maybe, but thanks was due here. There was no game of ‘I told you so’ between you; it was unspoken- but the care won out over any personal beef.  

Your ego is plenty bruised over having a wipeout in front of him. And yet, even as he'd brought you to your helmet, the first comment he made wasn't about how reckless you'd rounded that corner, or how you got yourself into a chase scene picking a petty fight… 

Mando was by your side the instant your hand fell limp after your cheery hand signal, and said something about how this helmet saved your life. In the moment, you were just sad its visor shattered. 

"Spent a lot of credits on the tint job…" you groaned. 

"You're bleeding. From the head."

"Fine, fine," you waved him off, "I'll spring for substance and not style next time."

"Thank Ashla her humor's intact," Mando bemoaned to the Child. "C'mon, let's get you up and out of here."

"Ow, shit– that's gonna bruise…  all down here, too.." 

"I've got you."

He looked ahead and motioned with a little nod to the corner of the side street. Once under a pavilion cover he loosened his hold on completely in favor of facing you.

"I'm.. I'm sorry that happened."

"Yeah," you sighed back, "Wasn't the finest show of my skills. Even stellar  have bad days too, see?"

"N-. Not that," he shook his head a little, "When I found you, out back."

You stood confused. "What, that a creep wanted to get in my pants? It's not the first time, and probably not the last." 

What started as a quip in your voice turned more genuine as you admitted the truth, 

"You uh… had that part right at the bar. How they're all the same, y'know."

He bristled, the turn of his helmet evident.

"That's happened to you before?"

You shrugged it off, a little surprised that he hadn't been privvy to that kind of scene.

"Just read the stats. It happens more often than folks care to admit, honey,” that sick feeling returned, the one that made even your toes lurch.The sourness of your memories made your broken helmet decidedly more interesting to look at,  “Dregs say whatever they want in these parts, really anywhere from Mid-Rim out. Don't like being told 'no' for the most part either… It just depends on how far they'll go to try and ‘convince you’." 

He really must be all business in establishments like that to never see those locales from another's perspective… But you grin back up at him while he stared speechless. 

"...I haven't ever had someone come to my rescue before.." you admitted. "That was– welcome. Appreciated."

As expressionless as the helmet made him, the slight tip of the head spoke wonders for you. Mando's hand rose to catch your top wrist and rubbed his thumb against it– solidifying those feelings he didn't dare speak in public. Without any facial features to go on, you relied on these touches and read into every little thing: chipping up your chin is an encouragement, a pat on the shoulder is a quick ‘atta girl’ or ‘stay put’ depending on the situation. And this little hold on your wrist spoke equal wonders, a hidden language of care:

 I’d do it again in a heartbeat, cyar’ika. Simply say the word, and it’s done.

Your pause was a quick one, and with no more words shared, he simply took claim of your hand, adjusted your fingers to work together, and led you back to the shipyard. 

The Child would peek his head out now that the action was over. He’d crane and lean up at you both as much as his sling could afford him– though he was most interested in what sight was in front of him: your hands now fitting together like they belonged. 

His buir was currently holding your hand, like he’s reached out to hold his own three fingered claw when they first met. He hoped this meant you'd stay, too. With his green-skinned hand, he could almost reach yours and add it to the pile.

......................................................................................................

The Mandalorian was quiet that night. The quiet itself was not unusual, no not that– setting a course and spending his time in the cockpit making the adjustments he wanted was a completely normal task for him. He always knew where to go, which route to plug into the navicomputer to coast comfortably in this hyperspace lane for the next few hours so he didn’t have to stay up there and babysit it. You left him to it; this brand of silence was nothing really out of the ordinary for him.

You thanked his strictly-taught discipline tonight. While he stayed busy, you were able to clean yourself up without an audience. 

After an indulgent sonic shower by his insistence, you fiddled around in the small kitchenette. The domesticity, the residential feel you’d fostered on the ship piece by piece was a sharp contrast to how the bar made you feel. The security of this place; you fall back into the feeling of ‘home’ here everytime you come up the ramp. So far tonight, that’s meant heating up a few bean rolls, monitoring the data cells you’d comped from your intel, and watching the kiddo roll around that little knob he was always sneaking off with. The minute after you’d realize the twist top of the gearshift throttle in the cockpit was missing, you’d smile. What thievery, at such a young age… at least your pilot didn’t have need of it yet.

You shook your head and laughed when the Mandalorian sighed behind you– clearly finding it, too.

"What am I gonna do with you, pal..." He wrestled with himself more than anything- begging the odd baby for reason, and picked him off the floor.

After setting him on the crate, the Mandalorian came up to the side of the sink. You didn't move much from what you were doing, but looked up when he just stood there quietly for too long.

"--What's up?"

“Really need to clean that.”

At the nod, you knew what he meant– the split brow and cheekbone.

Your instincts flared- hedge away. 

You fanned your face,  “I was just getting him settled first. It’s clean, I was just letting it cool down a minute.”

Your name left his lips. Firm as steady morning rain, and in a similar hush. You didn't need to see what color they were to know they were set on you and only you.

“Look, it’s only this much, see?--AH! Oof, nevermind..”

At your cheek’s lift, the fire came back. The move brought a tear to sting your eye. 

In a second, the Mandalorian came to your aid, a bracing hand on your waist as his hand cupped your chin to see the damage himself. He asked you to take another step towards the light, so you did. It seemed like he was tilting about a bit, even as he tested the touch around the roadburn. You winced at it each time- from both the poking and the bulb of the overhead glaring into your eyes. 

“It’s pretty bad, huh.” you mumbled out.

Guilt came through the sigh as a little exhale. You barely caught it, but it struck you in the stomach. The night, its quiet, and the privacy of hyperspace allowed you to bring your favorite secret to your lips–

“How bad is it –Din?”

“I can’t see it too well.” Mando -by his true name- told you, a skosh gentler. “My scanner doesn’t always allow me to see the debris from the clotting clearly. Hard to tell,” he weakly let go of your chin. 

“Damn,” you sniffed and looked about for the tabletop lantern back by the kiddo, “Do I need to get the handheld?”

Then, with a little look back to the hull where he sat occupying himself sleepily by the towel pile, your Mandalorian took maybe his largest risk ever:

“-I need you to close your eyes for me.”

“Huh?” 

“I need to see it better. Need– you to close your eyes for me to do that.”

Realization punched you again. Made your ears prick– and gooseflesh chill you.

You can't let him do this... You know he would. 

“We can get a medscanner, Din. It's not too late to stop somew-.”

“No,” he caught you again, “I can do it; need to do it. I just– I need to trust that you’re hearing me.”

It's less of an order and more of a curated ask, one that begged for assurance. This man would always do his best to help you– but you never imagined he'd go this far… what he's willing to do for you. 

It's the most vulnerable request he'd ever made of you; a Mandalorian's trustfall. 

Now? You took back every doubt you had in the bar about him. You looked him straight in the visor –while you still could.

“...I hear you, hon.”

It nodded back to you; just one, solemn motion.

“Okay. Come sit here.”

You obeyed and locked onto the sight of the child while the Mandalorian fell to a knee in front of you, then propped himself up on both to match. With prepped gauze and tools to extract the pebbley shards, you winced at the canister of bacta being shaken up in his palm. A gloved palm came to caress your thigh. It’s meant to soothe.

“It’s ok. Gonna get you taken care of.”

“Yeah,” you feigned a brave face. 

But every nerve ending fluttered at its tips when you felt it: his now bare hand brushing your good cheek,

“Do not open them, please.” you heard him whisper in the helmet. 

The already low-lit vision of the cabin fell dark at your will. And you nodded– any reaction of his, unseen.

With the latch release and depressurization, you knew the helmet was off. And without meaning to, your ears prickled at every breath, every swallow, every ounce of sound that man was making – now naked to the hallway of this ship.

“Okay,” a gentle baritone spoke in the air between you. It’s new, like a stranger.  “Hm– looks like we’re out of the stim solution, I don’t have any numbing cartridges. But I have the wipe kind. Gonna do that first.”

You hummed your agreement, then immediately whimpered at the first dab.

The Mandalorian froze and detached.

“It’s just a wipe…”

“Tell my face that.” You cringed. “Sorry, juss' stings.”

“I know,” he soothed, “T’sgonna be alright. I’ll make it as quick as I can. There. Gonna get these pieces out now.”

He did work pretty quickly now that he’s out from the helmet. You barely felt the edge of his tweezers as they scooped the wedges of asphalt from that high point of your cheek where the visor of your headgear had shattered. Before you could hedge away from one particularly deep poke, you heard him speak again, 

"I've been thinking about what you said earlier,” Mando peeped up from his quiet, “About... men who've said those things to you before."

You softened. Was he still thinking about it? That was hours ago.

"And.. I know I've said things like that. I just wanted you to know, I can't stomach the thought of you feeling that way. And I apologize if I have ever done so, even if you'd never said a word about it. If you want me to stop, I will."

Kriff, this man. You’d sooner lay across an electrode-fencing rig than ever make him stop. You sighed, and not simply from relief as you heard him switch tools.

He’s a man of few words, but not meaningless ones. The first compliment he ever paid you was about your fire- your heart, your will, and how strong you were and how you believed. Later when you had to doll up for that ridiculous undercover function, he finally spoke his mind in the moment and said you looked ‘stunning’. He calls you 'pretty thing' often; mostly when he's giving you a hard time. Truthfully he'd called you all sorts of things, both in Basic and not– which likely gave him this pang of guilt all the more.

But those endearments were just that: things that gave you joy, a peace and comfort with him. A sweet word here or there? It's born out of familiarity- the ease of tongue that comes with living in close quarters. The draw between you two is perfectly synchronous– it is an unexpected bond through bizarre shared experiences in an infinite galaxy that inevitably brought two rough-and-ready folks together and practically conjoined at the hip. To   

Your Mandalorian is not a man without faults, but he'd never once made you feel filthy.

"Oh stars above, you sweet man.." you chuckled a little, wrenching your palms from your shirt hem and blindly batted up in the air to find his arm. "You've never made me feel like that. It's different when it comes from you. You know that, right?"

He huffed out of his nose. Relieved, if his trigger fingers were any indication as they tilted your cheek again, 

"I didn't want to assume. You're always so collected. Talented, confident.. But you're– painfully polite."

You giggled at that. All of his touches that root you to the spot when you least expect them are anything but unwanted. Of course you were polite when he jumps the gun on grabbing you while out in traffic, or whipping a hand in front of you at a hard stop– but you've never once taken offense to that. 

With a tentative reach, his fingers brushed the line of fine little curls by your ear, relishing in your smile at the touch.

"I don't just want you in safe places. I can’t always promise our adventures will grant us ideal jobs," In the dark, you envisioned his solid, pitch black visor giving a barely there shake… "But I want you to feel safe when you're with me."

You turned your head and kissed the palm of it. 

"I do feel safe with you. You'd be the first to know if I wasn’t–NNGH!"

"Be still."

"Shit… m'working on it… this whole thing's new to me, y'know?" Your mouth wandered like your frantic mind, blitzed with stinging pain. "My visor's never shattered like that before," You clenched your fists against the picks made at your browline, "I just fill in the scuffs with some epoxy usually, but it's never broken like that. Frikkin’ hurt."

Mando hummed in sympathy and merely added, "Gotta fit you with some beskar one of these days."

"Oh, sure, for half my year's portion of – nehNGH!"

“Shh, I know. Last bit’s over. Just gonna clean it up before the spray.”

With a water’s dip and wrench out, Mando made a little cleansing exhale before dabbing over the whole area. Didn’t hurt as much of your face other than the center of the wound because of the sedative, but it certainly made your eyes squeeze shut. No worries of opening your eyes for a peek when it stung so badly.

Your gentle angel in beskar whispered a quiet ‘m’sorry’ for the repeated flare of pain. His nervousness was palpable, regardless of how confident he was at this job. A jostle of your leg at calf-height told you he was checking around for dry gauze. 

“Almost done,” he cooed, “You want a break?”

You hummed and gave your pitiful nod to agree. The barest turn of your head caused little pops in it from craning so much. The pressure would take a while to dissipate and you know that when you open your eyes, they’ll be bloodshot. But the pain would be over soon.

Pleased enough to give you a minute, Mando released your chin in favor of brushing another bit of hair back. Due to taking your own helmet on and off so much, the wisps of curls were bouncier than normal like this, with just enough length to give you some fun bangs. You smirked with a tight-lipped smile, as you did not want to bother and pull your cheeks too much. 

It’s kinda beautiful, this. Having this closeness, sharing in a horrible task but in the best of conditions imaginable– being cared for by the one you adored most. Who wouldn’t crave that when it’s what the heart screams for? 

And with this new secret shared between you, this loophole in Din Djarin’s creed… this isn’t a moment you took lightly at all. 

With a little shaky exhale of your own, you searched for his hand again in your bubble of darkness. Now, it met you fully–and linked your fingers together. 

And then, what shocked you the most: steady fingers supported your jaw again, and a slight breeze to cool down your enflamed cheek rushed across your face. 

Din is here. Kneeling before you and blowing on it– just for your comfort. 

You welcomed the cooling flow; your brows showed it. Every ounce of tension left you while dragging heartache into its warm spot. Emotion flooded every corner of the body. It nearly hurt: how it compressed your chest into submission and brought loving tears behind your eyelids.

You didn’t deserve him.

“We’re almost there, sweetheart. Finish line,” he squeezed your hand before lifting it to his lips. He spoke gently to the fingers, "Keep those eyes closed for me."

"Promise." You squeezed them again, bracing yourself for the final burn.

And there it was– freezing and sealing all at once. A white, blinding sensation like what you’d feel from a lightsource turning on overhead, but all over your skin. Each pore was touched by the bacta’s strange magic without warning- and perhaps it was better that way to get it over with. Your breathing raced in that short time until the spray set, but you made sure to mute any noise with angry focus. Fighting the aftertaste, only a small moan eeked from you while the medicine reacted after your nurse had done his job covering the area. Darling thing, he even shielded the mist from getting directly into your eyes. 

Mando's hands left you only to set its things down. This, only in favor, of cupping your face evenly to hold you still when they returned. They warmed what once felt so cold. His forehead met yours in a tender touch as your tears spilled over from the edge of your eyes. Not to worry, for his thumb wiped them up straight away. 

Hair caught in every which way brushed along your slightly damp brow- his. Matched yours, in a way. 

"All done.” his words danced just over your nose, “You can smack me away now, if you want." 

You gave a wet little laugh as you settled into him. Slapping him is unthinkable to you. “Never.”

No, this was a perfect feeling that you’d never wish an end to. His caresses surpassed that of strict medicinal care and turned intimate, rendering your insides limp and on their way to healing already..

The urge to finally cry hit when you parted… when you felt his lips meet your unharmed cheek in a plush, hot kiss.

You whispered in reverence: Din. Desperation for ‘more, please Starborn, more’, an equal measure of shock had you squeezing his wrist, pinning him to you, 

"Should– heh- sh-should you be doing that?"

He kissed you again. Again. Like he’s addicted to the touch, like it’s his favorite vice to pass the time; soft, loose, sighing up to your temple. You know he must be taking in this sight of you now, before the analytics of heat sensors block him from vivid color and dynamic shadows once the helmet returns. 

"Probably not,” he admitted without true remorse– his voice turned soft and delicious, "But I've always wanted to. And right now, I can–" he pulled away at your forehead, "--Should I stop?"

"Oh, please don't stop–"

Your urgency, his delight. Mando chuckled, and kissed your forehead next: with such love from him, you could never doubt it. Enjoy this, honey. Take it all in.

The moment could have lasted forever. You'd about blindfold yourself for the rest of your life, for all you cared. If he just kept kissing you; lower, lower, lower–

–your lips fit against his, and you burst like a case of firewhiskey spirits poured on a flame. It engulfed you both, and he latched on– to burn right there with you. 

Your hands flew to keep him close, fingers finding a hold through the whisps of his hair he kept short that curled in choppy, sweat-licked parts. He sighed so heavenly when you touched him skin to skin. And easy to please, it seems, since he matched you move for move– threading through your feather-soft waves like it was second nature for him to hold you so close. 

Oxygen and a too-full heart demanded you part for a breath, your pulse going rapid fire in your throat. 

“Thank you.”

“Thank me? Thank– I should be thanking you,”  For caring, for the space to exist at his side, to have his loyalty in your back pocket and in your very soul, “For… everything today.”

“Nothing special about that. You thanked me already.” he said so with such frankness. “We have each other’s backs. We’re on each other’s sides. No, this–” 

His shield dropped from your browline, replaced by his whisper over the lid of your eye–

“–this means everything, mesh’la.”

The honesty of this man wrecked you. 

You found yourself pressing your forehead into the space by his neck to hide. Your Mando petted through your hair like a lovestruck man- desperate and wanting and content with every intention to keep you there for the rest of Time. By how this killer matched your breathy giggles, you had a clue that he wouldn't mind that idea. 

"So," you broke the quiet with a small question, "is that what I can expect every time I get a punch to the face?"

Din huffed. 

"You start poking around for trouble, we're going to have an entirely different problem on our hands,” he mumbled back hoarsely, “Don't you dare get any ideas." 

“Even if they get me kisses?”

“Nothing’s worth you getting hurt, cyar’ika,” those indulgent lips pressed to your hairline before he reached down- to get his helmet. 

At the lean, you panicked a second, and flung back again with a rush for him to wait. 

At your word, he stilled for you to speak your peace. Happy lines greeted your fingertips as you caught the edge of his smile with a blind-man’s reach.

You fought through your elated headspace and begged, "One more?"

Praying to every heaven out there, you were blessed when Din graced your mouth again without any teasing. Kiss after kiss, you melted into each other in this place where nothing hurt– though who did the falling first, you genuinely didn't know. 

Must have been a hell of a numbing wipe. 

After breathless kisses later, stolen tokens as they were, you both felt and heard the Mandalorian shudder and he moan back,

"Gotta stop.." he flipped up the helm with expert precision. It found its home again with only another blip of static when the seal reanimated. "You can open your eyes now."

"Stop…" you managed your beating heart and blinked open your gaze, straight up to the reflected 'T'-shaped gap of his visor. The pupils that looked back at you were straight dilated. You asked out of the haze of your bliss, "Why ‘stop’?"

Still ungloved and with sleeves rolled up, the Mandalorian’s head lolled in a little shake. 

"If I didn't stop right then," Mando caressed your good cheek, "Don't know if I ever would…"

"Would that be the worst?" You hoped for the chance again.

Mando sweetly answered, 

"No.."

It was the kind answer he knew you wanted, to wish for more kisses from you. But he wasn't completely convinced. Not with that lilt in his voice that left a question to be answered. 

He slipped a hand around your waist,

"No, I think.. if I never saw your eyes again, that would be the loss I'd suffer the most.”

Lucidity came back by the moment, your sense of confusion officially returned.

“See me? But you just did, for the first time, right?”

“Couldn’t see those pretty eyes though.”

“Well, tough.” you sassed, “Now you know how I feel.”

You tried to make it sound bossy, but the dig left your mouth too sleepily for him to take it. Behind the metal, his rough rush of static resounded his chuckle.

To further prove the point, you mimic the motion you do for your eye contact removal with a bright, goofy smile,

"It's just retinas, you know,” you shrugged, “Mine don't even work."

"Your loss is my gain, all the same." Mando fell back to only one knee again, to get comfortable at your level. "I'm almost glad we didn’t pass a med droid in town, or else…” he curled an arm around you again, “--this might not have happened any other way. I count your poor excuse for headgear as my blessing this time."

You glanced at what was left of your helmet, but fell into good humor with his warmth bringing you close again.

“You’ll be all too glad to see me walking around a beskar cyclehelm, won’t you? Gonna take a while to find that much to make one, if you’re serious.”

“Oh, I’m serious,” the helmet nodded, chipping your chin for a moment, “But we’ll manage until we source it. Always do.”

You’re still reeling over this; over what this means, him offering you the most prized form of protection. To give you comfort by shedding down to his most vulnerable state. The complete faith he has in you by doing so... It gave your nervous anxieties ballasts on all sides. 

You’d keep your wits about you better next go round, so this doesn’t happen again… but you knew the word ‘partnership’ had a different meaning between you, from this night onward.

Din continued past your mind’s lovely spiral, 

“You won’t need to worry about finding a better replacement before we head to Bespin with this package; we'll just let you heal. No sense pushing it.”

"Probably for the best, yeah," you nuzzled back, "I clearly have issues keeping a helmet on my head as it is."

The helmet giving you a kiss of its own shook side to side. That gesture all but begged ‘what am I going to do with you’.

"So we stick in our lanes for now?” you whispered your hope, “...Try my luck and steal chances whenever I can?"

Instead of a quick nod, the man who’d just kissed you senseless gave you a promise again,

"We can work something out."

[asterdeer]

six-sentence sunday

"I’ve got one partner, but we’re looking for our third Charlie’s Angel. Or Totally Spy, if that’s more your generation.” “A cord of three strands, et cetera,” Monica said sweetly. If it was the last thing she did, she’d make use of at least some part of those Bible-cramming sessions. “What are you independently contracting? Something that’ll piss off my parole officer?”

from my newish tasha/monica fic that literally no one ever asked for because i can't emphasize enough how much these characters never interact in canon even a little bit

[heartbreak-is-one-thing]

[marvelstan0905]

"Trust me, you're not heavy"

Boyfriend!Kenji Sato X FEM!Chubby/Plus Size! Reader

TW : insecurities regarding weight/fluff/wholesome/stammering/picking up/angst/slightly new relationship/comparison/lewd joke at the end/not proofread yet/ mixed POV

-Hi. This is for comfort. Mostly for me,because I am on the thicker side and these are thoughts that have coursed through my mind. If you will be triggered please don't go beyond the line. I am a Female/AFAB so it will be with she/her pronouns! I'm still gonna write other scenarios with GN readers in mind! Thank you for the love and support😘

©all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

Today was a relaxing day. A chill day from all the chaos that both me and Kenji had been going through. We were relaxing together at Kenji's house. My legs laid on his lap as I sat across from him on the couch. We were watching a movie occasionally being on our phones. Kenji put down his phone and looked at me thoughtfully.

"Hey baby?" Kenji started hesitantly as he took my hand and gently put my phone down. I hummed and smiled giving him my attention. "Can I ask why you don't let me pick you up or sit in my lap?"

I froze. I expected the question but I didn't really expect the question so soon ant so abruptly. I looked away from Kenji, clearing my throat.

"W-What do you mean, baby?" I cleared my throat and withdraw my legs from his lap hugging my knees. Kenji's eyes softened in concern as he observed your tense and almost, hiding body language.

"Well..baby we've been dating for quite a while yet you've never sat in my lap or let me pick you up. If I try to pick you up, you squirm away and stiffen up...did I do something to make you uncomfortable?" Kenji spoke sincerely as he gently took ahold of my hand, his thumb brushing against my knuckles. His beautiful mauve turquoise eyes held concern and guilt. I felt bad.

"N-No. Of course its not you, baby. It's me, really. I..I dont even know where to start really" I breathed with a nervous laughter. I played with his soft but calloused hands. Kenji felt relieved but it still didn't exactly explain why. He wouldn't pressure his girl to talk about it but they had great communication.

"Well you know,you can tell me anything. I'd never judge you. You're the perfect specimen to me" Kenji added with conviction and genuineness. I blushed and shook my head.

"I know that, my love. You'd never judge me. It's just..I'm not exactly small, you know? I don't weigh like 40kgs and stuff like that. Plus I've never really been lifted up or put my whole weight on someone, if that makes sense? Like for trustfall exercises at school, I never got a turn or piggy back rides. Stuff like that..I know it's stupid" I rambled whiles touching my head. I tugged on my sweater sleeves. Kenji's eyes softened and hardened at the same time, he was was quite upset people treated you that way. "Even if someone did volunteer they'd be huffing and puffing or straning. So I'd prefer if you didn't get a hernia or something like that picking me up"

"Welk to start baby, fuxk those people who treated you like that. I'd like their names and Instagram handles..Number 2. It doesn't matter that you don't weigh 40kgs or whatever. That's actually unhealthy but anyways. I don't care if you're not small. Just means there's more to touch and feel on" Kenji smirked whiles groping my pudgy love handles. I giggled and pushed his hands away causing him to chuckle.

"Babe. It's not stupid at all. Trust me, I won't get a hernia or huff or puff, okay? I'm an athlete, I play a sport which requires a great deal of strength. I probably lift weights heavier than you. Even if you weighed 6000lbs I'd glad pick you up and put you in my lap and arms"Kenji assured me whiles he pulled me closer and held my hands.

"I know it's scary but please trust me. I think you're the most beautiful girl ever. With all cute abundance as well. It means I get a marshmallow and extra softness to cuddle, okay?" Kenji smiled and stood up pulling us both to our feet. He pulled me closer and wrapped his arms around my waist. "Can we try it? I promise I won't drop you or strain? I'm not fragile, my love. I won't break if I pick you up. Come on your dating the Ken Sato. Believe when I say you're not heavy at all"

Kenji was convincing but I was still anxious. I really didn't want to be embarrassing or scarred for life...again. I didn't want to witness my boyfriend struggle under my weight but then again, he was right. He did lift weights far heavier than me. His half alien self did have that extra strength and power. I looked up at him and Kenji gave me the puppy eyes and the pout. I groaned and sighed, he really did look like a kicked puppy. "Please princess of mine, please. Trust me?"

"Finnnne. I'm being serious, baby. I'm trusting you. J-Just a minute, okay?" I stammered anxiously. Kenji's smiled brightened up and without a second of hesitation, his large hands wrapped around my thick thighs and picked me up without a struggle or hassle. My instant reaction was to push him away and stiffened up, but I took a deep breath. Kenji wrapped my legs around his waist. His hands laid comfortably under my thighs. I looked at him expecting a tomato face or something but he seemed..fine. Genuinely content and happy as he rocked from side to side slowly.

" Look at that..I'm not huffing or puffing. Neither am I crumbling. See ,baby trust me. You're as light as a paperclip to me. I can toss you around like a ragdoll if I wanted" Kenji shrugged with a triumphant smirk as his hands climbed up and onto my rear. I flushed and breathed a sigh of relief. It was still a lot to get used to but I really liked this. It was nice."Feels good, huh? Plus you're all nice and close to me. I get to kiss you more too"

Kenji spoke softly whiles his lips peppered kisses all over my face. Small flustered giggles left my lips as I leaned into his affection.

"Guess I was too anxious. Thank you, baby. Means alot that you're patient like this. The reassurance means alot as well" I say softly whiles nuzzling my cheek against his cheek. Kenji hummed in satisfaction as well nuzzling against me as well.

"This is nothing, baby. I just wanted you close and for you to be more comfortable in your own skin. I love you so much. All of you. In and out, okay? In fact, I'd like to add to all that chubbiness. Just make you eat even more" Kenji murmured whiles kissing my cheek continously. I giggled and shook my head. We stood like this for a few minutes in a comfortable silence as we exchanged kisses and nuzzles. It was so nice and intimate. The once nervous and anxious air from before seemed to have dissipated as we cuddled in content.

"You know this means I can eat you out in the air now" Kenji murmured with his cheek restint against my head. I clicked my tongue, with a flustered gasp and gently pinched his chest. "Ow! What? Wishful thinking..you know? A little manhandling..come on you know you want to?"

"Kenji Sato!"

"Okay..Okay..I'm sorry..maybe we can try the butterfly position now-"

Thwack

"Ow!O-Okay. Okay. I'm sorry, babygirl. We can talk later hmm?"

[prettyboykatsuki]

warm-ups | gojo + nsfw + inspection

✮ tags ; afab + gn!reader (they are wearing a skirt / panties) but no gendered language, established relationship / power imbalance (they're dating but gojo is their superior) , teasing, humiliation, pussy inspection, praise, petnames (sweet thing, baby), fingering + penetration, creampies 18+

✮ wc ; 1.9k

✮ a/n ; i swear on my entire fucking life i did not rig this one at all KJSDF. the wheels just decided i promise this on my life.

idk if the writing reflects what i experienced trying to write this but . good fucking lord. good lord.

"Let me see,"

Embarrassing. Humiliation is making your face burn hot as Gojo stares at you. He's smiling, of course he is - a lazy grin, head tilted slightly to one side. His teeth peek out, sharp incisors and even sharper canines like a light in the dim light of an empty classroom.

"Satoru," You reason, hands fidgeting on the hem of your skirt with a sigh "We're in the—"

"I want to see," He's not asking, so much as telling. Your heart races. You squirm. Earlier, when he called and asked for you to wear something cute - you thought it'd be some of his typical flirting. You decided to appease him. Not particularly hoping he would make any advances on you. It wasn't something you thought to justify to yourself.

It struck you as odd when he asked about it. The husk of his voice as he leaned in behind you and told you good before waltzing off back to his lesson. The whole day he'd done nothing else out of ordinary. Made his usual jokes and stupid, unserious flirtatious advances.

And then you were alone. The building is empty, and you're supposed to be planning practical lessons for the first years. Gojo cornered you here and sat with you in silence for a little while, eyes following your curves and edges before stopping to look at you.

He wanted to see what you wore. But it wasn't like usual. Something was different, obviously - he'd been thinking about something else and like usual opted not to tell you about it. You're sure he won't even if you ask.

It's a trustfall with him - always testing you to see if you'll give him blind faith. You think he likes seeing you flounder more than he's concerned about your loyalty.

You can't get a read on him.

"You're really—"

"Let me see," He says again, not as playful. You swallow thick. It's your fault for indulging him so much "I want to know what you picked."

You go to take it off and Gojo shakes his head.

"Flip your skirt up,"

"You can't be serious."

He looks at you. Reprimanding. He's very serious. You swallow around something in your throat again, turning your head. Focusing your attention on anything else. The open window that gives view to the darkness outside. If anyone came right now they'd see this. You decide to close your eyes after all.

Wordlessly, you grab the end of your skirt and flip it up. Holding the material just over your thighs - to give visibility to the sheer, delicate material underneath. A brief silence is followed with echoey footsteps. Intentional. He's letting his weight hit the ground each time he does it.

You know he stops when you feel him looming over you. Before you can get a worse in edge-wise, he drops down. Squats until his face is at level with your pussy.

But he doesn't touch you. You can feel his breath distantly, and you're too afraid to look. But he's careful not to touch you. When you do feel his hand, it's brushing against your ankle. Fingers playing with the frill of your socks.

"Spread your legs a little."

"But—"

The air changes. You clip your mouth shut and listen, sneakers squeaking along the tile as you spread yourself. Standing at shoulder width, making yourself more clear to view.

"Good," He says, like it needs no explanation "I like when you listen to me."

You don't reply. You just sit, and wait - heart hammering so hard against your chest like you've run a mile.

You count the seconds but the numbers feel muddled after you count up to three hundred. A little over five minutes before he moves again. He touches the palm of his hand against your knee, planing them up the tops of your thigh. A barely there movement. Goosebumps cover every single inch of you. He hums, arbitrarily running his fingers along your inner thigh but never quite committing.

You're almost too afraid to move. Not that he'd do anything bad. But you have no idea what he's doing in the first place. It's starting to make you sweat.

"These are pretty," He says, conversationally running his finger along the top seam where the bows are. Still not touching "They new?"

"U-uhm," Your fingers tighten around your skirt "Yes?"

"Mm," He tugs the waistband, letting it snap against your skin lightly "Were you thinking of me?"

"I thought you'd like them."

"I do. I like when you think of me."

You shudder.

"Were you thinking anything of it when you put them on this morning?"

"No," You answer truthfully.

"Really?" He answers back, genuine "Even in the afternoon,"

"I just wasn't thinking,"

"What a shame," He replies, soft and gentle. He runs fingers against the place where you thighs meet your legs. Still no direct touching. You feel yourself starting to get wet around where he isn't. "I was thinking of you all day."

"Oh," You mumble.

"Wanna know what I was thinking about?"

He doesn't give you a chance to answer.

"I was thinking about," A single finger, his middle finger, runs along the seam of your panties. A ghost of a touch that makes your knees weak "Giving you a nice, thorough inspection."

You can't think.

"I was thinking," He answers again, but this time he pushes and you gasp at the sudden contact "About what it might be like to watch you make a mess like this," Another press, a little harder, still not where you need "Get these nice and dirty,"

"Satoru," Your voice is high-pitched. A whine. A sound you didn't even know you could make.

"I was thinking," He repeats, removing his hand completely "How wet I could get you by telling you all the dirty, awful, nasty things I wanna do with you,"

"What a-are you?"

"It's not proper at all for a trusted grown-up hm? To be pulling up your skirt and showing off your sweet little cunt to your superior? There's windows. They'll see you,"

You can only repeat his name. "Satoru."

"Do you want them to see you?" He asks, hand gentle on your thigh. He trails up "Do you want them to see you bent over the desk while I fuck you? Or maybe you want to spread your legs more,"

You choke on your spit, trying to keep the noises in.

"Make you sit with your legs wide and fuck you with my fingers till you squirt all over the desk. Let everyone see how filthy you let me make you,"

That makes you open your eyes. Once squeezed shut, now wet with need. You turn slightly, looking down at him. He looks pleased by this, by your staring. He watches your face as he gathers the material covering your pussy, pulling it between your lips with enough friction that your knees nearly give out.

"It's good that these were so light," He offers "Didn't think you could get this wet over something like this."

Your lower lip is trembling.

He still doesn't take pity on you.

"You did well," He kisses your knee. It's the most you've gotten from him today "What should I give you hm?"

Your words feel slurred and your head feels completely heavy. "Make me cum. Please, I wanna—"

"Shhh," He coos, patting your leg "Sit up on the desk ,"

You listen, sitting up and far back enough to sit comfortable. Gojo positions you with your feet flat on the desk underneath you. He pulls your skirt up this time, guiding your arms around his neck as he pushes his hand into the waistband of your panties.

The sudden contact is deliciously overstimulating. You gasp and Gojo hums, pleased.

"So sweet," He praises, after you've finally lost all of your resolve - brain clouded with nothing but unadulterated desire. It's hard not to give into Gojo. He always makes it good for you in the end "And so wet. You'll leave a stain."

You sniffle "Satoru," You repeat. He laughs good-naturedly. It makes you huff.

"Right, right. Sorry,"

He doesn't make you wait. The feeling of Gojo's hand makes you gasp with your face buried in his neck. His fingers are thick, smooth skin cool to the touch like a balm on your ever growing heat. He starts with his middle finger, fucking into you slowly and even though it isn't enough to make you cum - it's enough to stimulate you. Already so worked up, so needy it's so good.

But he's not doing it to make you feel good. He's preparing you, wanting to give you something better.

"Gonna give you my cock," He mumbles against the crown of your head, free hand tucking your head to his chest "You're gonna cum all over it for me, okay?"

A pathetic uh-huh leaves your lips, dazed. He doesn't give you anything more after that. One finger without resistance prompts another, and he stops at three. You can feel yourself stretched. You've taken it before, more than once.

But this time feels different. Your stomach is tied in knots. Gojo pulls away from you slightly, enough to undo his pants and let his cock spring free. White hairs neat at the base, tip flushed red. He's so hard, he's throbbing against your thigh where you can feel him.

"Take me in, baby," He hums, pushing the round tip against your cunt before it catches. He lets himself in slowly "That's it,"

The intial stretch leaves your lungs feeling punched out. Already undone, nerves frayed and mind fuzzy - the soft stretch of your pussy accommodating his length leaves you shaking. Skin on skin, raw and desperate, he swears under his breath and throws his head back. His adams apple bobs slightly, smiling as he swallows.

"So good,"

He fucks himself deeper Lets you adjust to each inch, and waits to bottom out until it's comfortable. The brief moment of tension only drives your lust further out of control. You can feel every slight throb and twitch. It gives you a second to appreciate every vein and the slight curve. The deep angle he's hitting you.

Just when you think you can't lose it anymore, he maneuvers his hand between your bodies and uses his thumb on your clit. Every neuron fires at once as he rubs the abused bundle of nerves, achy and weeping between your legs.

Your fingers tighten in his shoulders and Satoru laughs. He starts to move like that, careful and practiced. He angles each thrust of his hips to time it with his fingers. All precision, all reward. He thumbs your needy clit and fucks his cock right against the sweetest, softest part inside of you. He knows it so well by now, it always remembers him.

"Cum on me, sweet thing. Just a little more."

You wrap your legs around Gojo's waist as all the tension in your body started to overflow. All your tight muscles, the hot feeling in your belly that flows and disperses through your whole body. Every sensation works in tandem in making you fall apart and all of it happens at Gojo's mercy.

"Oh, Satoru, oh,"

You cum so hard you see white in your vision. You can feel yourself pulse as Gojo fucks himself as deep into you can go. All the way in your stomach, up to your throat - it knocks all the wind out of you as your pussy pulses and holds and clings to Gojo's cock like it never ever wants it to leave.

Gojo follows you in the aftermath of your own orgasm.

A few more shallow thrust of hips before he pours his cum into you, thick white ropes making your belly feel even hotter.

You stay like that a minute, full and exhausted until Gojo pulls away to kiss you.

"Let's clean up," He offers, an apology without saying sorry "We'll finish up at home, hm? Okay?"

You nod.

"Kay."

[bellsplit]

I  WON'T  LET  ANYTHING  HAPPEN  TO  YOU.

the delicate area around his right eye has melted into a tangle of burned skin & bright pink eyelashes,  preventing him from looking at the flame pillar properly as he's unceremoniously lifted into his arms.     any other slayer would have left him to die for his foolishness,  surely :    it's the least he deserves,  after all,  for  putting  a  hole  through  kyojuro's  chest  the night that they'd met.

all for ... what?     strength?     pride?     glory?

it doesn't sit well with him to think about :    by rights,  kyojuro should have abandoned him.     but he hadn't.

in spite of being dazed & in pain,  the third moon is still aware enough to avoid moving a muscle,  lest he jostle kyojuro too much & end up  dropped.     the material of the haori draped over him is thick enough to offer at least  some  amount of protection,  but since it's mostly  white ... of course some of that torturous sunlight gets in & further assaults his already burned skin.     but that's not nearly as painful as the notion of what he looks like to kyojuro right now ...

WEAK.

how pathetic it is to be the fourth strongest demon in the country & to not only have  forgotten  to  get  away  before  daybreak,   but also to have had to  ask  a  fucking  demon  slayer  for help.     sure,  it's  kyojuro  that he'd had to ask ... & they're now in this mess together thanks to his impulsiveness ... but never,  never has akaza appeared or  felt  as weak as he is now.

a hand grips the front of kyojuro's uniform.     he has to steady himself  somehow,   after all ;    if he doesn't,  he might just  go  limp  in the pillar's grasp ... & that would make it harder for him to be carried.

"  kyo ... juro ...  "

destructive death could call out to nakime & allow them to be swallowed up by the infinity castle.     but taking kyojuro there would almost certainly be a  death  sentence  for both of them,  one that would almost be  worse  than  burning  up  in  the  sun.     no,  this is something that they'll have to sort out together ... but on their own.

the pain hasn't abated,  not even a little.     each movement of kyojuro's rubs something against his raw skin,  tearing it open,  making it  bleed.     akaza can tell that his skin is  hot  from the injuries,  yes,  but also that it isn't  healing ... no,  of course it isn't.     sunlight is very,  very  difficult to heal from,  at least according to their master,  so it likely will be a miracle if he comes out of this unscathed.

judging by the shift in his vision they've reached the trees,  & akaza finally manages to exhale a breath that he'd been holding.     he may not need to breathe to  survive,  but it helps keep him centered when he's doing things that require mental strength ... be that running through the forms of his martial arts or trying to keep himself sane through impossible pain.

"  cave ... find ... find a cave ...  "

he manages to peer out from beneath the weight of the haori with his good eye,  lifting his head just enough to bump the underside of kyojuro's jaw.     he's  so  warm ...     not like the sun,  no,  not in an uncomfortable way ;    the flame pillar,  true to his title,  is warm like a comforting bonfire on a cold winter's night.     & with that realization comes another :    that this is the first time that kyojuro has  willingly  touched  him.     that  akaza  himself  hasn't had to make the first move.

that maybe kyojuro ... might just care.     a little.     & even if it's only about the human that he'd been before all of this,  well,  the bellsplitter cannot bring himself to split those hairs.     right now all that matters is that they're  here,   here  TOGETHER,   & if he survives intact enough to get back on his feet ... then he'll have to do something to make it up to him.

THIS WAS NOT HAPPENING –

The golden single hue would widen for the moment. He felt the flicker, the emerging heat, that matched the own flame within his body, spreading as it touched his skin for the moment, the change within the sky above them, a red hue rushing over the blanket of darkness, twisting and turning, to a light orange and giving way slightly to the break of dawn, the rush of blue and the white that would soon splash the skies above to give way, to the one thing demons cannot endure.

THE DAY.

It was happening, he had never seen it before in his life, he has only heard about it second hand, as his battles and struggles, endless fights with the demon horde, it had never lasted long enough for the light of day to reach them as he wished to end there suffering as quickly as possible, to grant him the right, to allow his bright flame to be the light that guides them from one life into the next.

“Akaza —”

He did not know what to say, his eye would widen at the splash of light that hit him in the eye as he stepped back, out of fear. The panic, a demon cornered would lash out and become desperate, dangerous as they already were, impossible to manage when true fear and pain gripped them, that it was fight for their life and nothing more.

As he could only watch the burns spread instantly, from nothing other than one golden ray touching Akaza. Watching the other crumble down and hunch up, shielding himself, protecting himself, doing all that he can, all that he could to try and shield himself as he did not waste any time, not a simple second put to waste, as he saw the sunlight, the burns, the pain, the cry out for someone, something, anything to stop it.

Anyone else would have left him to his fate.

The thought was there of course, this was a demon. Who has killed people, where was the mercy for them when they were at his feet and cried out for someone, anyone to help them. He knew within his heart, had it been the other Rengoku here. His father would have kicked him over, pinned him down and allowed him to burn alive, to reduce to cinder and think little of anything about it.

He was not his father.

The haori was taken from himself and thrown over Akaza, covering him as much as possible as he scooped him up into his arms, turning his back on the daylight, a race against time then, as he nestled his head into his chest, a slide back, breathing in as he jumped down, from the roof onto the ground, the shadows still here as the sun started it’s slow rise to take the land and burn away the darkness and any demon that would be caught within the spreading warmth.

“I’ll —” As he swallowed, no time to think, only time to act within the moment as he started to run as fast as he could, through the small village, clearing fences and anything else within his way as he felt the heat touching his back and the line of light slowly creeping up on walls, fences, buildings. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He had a habit of always speaking from the heart.

He never said anything at all, unless he could follow through with it.

As he pushed forward, holding him as tightly as he could, as much as him wrapped up. Not enough, still not enough, he had to make it to the trees, get within them and keeping going until he found somewhere, anywhere at all, where the daylight would not break through and lay claim to Akaza.

[holylulusworld]

Trustfall

Summary: Sometimes you have to trust someone.

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of breakup, a lil fluff

Catch up here: The ring & Tearing at the seams

Andy walks into the house he bought feeling like an unwelcome guest.

He’s unsure why you called him. Maybe something is wrong with the house.

Andy doesn’t dare to dream you called to forgive him.

He knows that the chances are low that you’ll ever talk to him without him seeing the disappointment in your eyes.

Your ex-boyfriend follows you inside the kitchen. He gasps as, to his surprise, or horror (he hasn’t decided yet) you kept your promise and painted the kitchen neon pink.

“So, uh…do you like it?” You nervously wring your hands. The kitchen doesn’t look like you imagined. It’s the worst color ever and you hate it. It hurts your eyes only to look at the walls.

“It’s…unique,” he says, almost laughing as the walls look like Barbie moved into your house. “I never saw a neon pink kitchen before.” Andy rubs his eyes after staring at the walls for a few moments.

“It’s…a catastrophe,” you sniffle. “I tried to paint it and it looks like Barbie threw up and look, the wallpaper won’t stick. I…I’m usually good at things like that.”

You start crying and hide your face in the palms of your hands.

“Y/N, it is not so bad,” he softly says. “Please don’t cry over paint and wallpaper. I’m sure you can fix it. You’re going to make this place your home. Every place is a home when you are around.”

“Y-ou don’t understand,” you run out of the kitchen. Andy gasps as he listens to your footsteps. You run upstairs to throw yourself down onto the mattress you placed on the ground.

“Y/N? Darling?” Andy follows you upstairs, and carefully approaches your bedroom, or what will be your bedroom if you manage to decide on wallpaper, curtains, and such anytime soon. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything is wrong. I didn’t want a house, Andy. I wanted a home,” you hide your face in the pillow on the mattress you call your bed. “I wanted to create a home for me and my person. You know, the one I’ll spend my life with. I don’t even have a pet.”

“Baby, I,” he tip-toed toward the mattress to sit on the floor next to it. “I thought you’d love the house. It’s the one you wanted for yourself.”

“I don’t want to live in a house all alone. It feels like I don’t belong here,” you lift your head to look at Andy. “Do you think someone will buy it now that I ruined the kitchen?”

“You won’t sell it,” Andy gently runs his hand over your head. “Don’t give up on your dream because of me. I know that I’m not worth your love, but you can still find someone to share these walls with.”

“I’m not worthy,” you sniffle. “I was a one-night stand. You only tried to do the right thing. We were never meant to be.” You hide your face in the pillow again. “You never took the ring off because you were sure that I’m not the one for you. But you were it to me and now I’m back to square one. Why do we look for love? It sucks…”

“I didn’t take it off because I was afraid of falling too hard for you,” he lies next to you on the ground. His hand gently runs over your back as Andy tries to find the words to explain how he feels. “From the first moment I saw you, and you kissed me, I was done for.”

“I was drunk—” you murmur. “If not, I’d never found the guts to flirt with you. I felt cocky that night, and self-confident.”

“You were a little drunk,” he whispers as he runs his hand slower up and down your back. “I was enchanted when you grabbed my face and called dips on my lips.”

“I had a hunch that you’re a good kisser. My friend double-dared me to kiss a stranger, and I liked your beard and your lips looked soft.”

“I never thanked her for helping me have the night of my life.” You feel the mattress dip behind you. “Why did you call me, darling?” Andy wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his face in your neck.

“I don’t know.”

“Please don’t lie to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“All I thought about was to get the house after you left me. And now that it’s mine, it feels wrong. I don’t feel like I’m home.”

“What do you need me to do?” He whispers. “I’d do anything for you. I never told you so, but you’re it for me. I love you with what’s left of my heart since…”

“I don’t want to come home to an empty house. I can have this at my apartment too. At least I know my place, and where everything is. I liked the house when I first saw it. Now it’s just a reminder that I’m all alone and it makes me even sadder.”

“Baby, you’re not alone.” He presses the full length of his body against you. “I miss you so much it feels like my soul is black and blue.”

You chuckle.

“Did you just laugh about me and my confession?” He grunts in your neck. “That’s not nice of you, Y/N! I poured my heart out and you laugh about me.”

“You sounded overly dramatic, Andy,” you snicker. “My soul is black and blue.” You imitate his deep timbre. “I can’t sleep without you. Y/N please let me make sweet love to you, I dreamed about it all night.”

“I didn’t say that,” he tugs at your earlobe with his teeth. “I’ll never talk about my feelings with you ever again.”

“I’ve missed you too, Andy. Even though you’re overprotective and a little overbearing sometimes,” you wipe your wet eyes. “I just don’t know where we can go from here. I’m scared you’ll leave me again.”

“I’m scared of messing things up again,” he chokes out your name and tightens his arms around you. “I know I have a lot of flaws, but I can try to be less worried about you. I know you are not a child and that you can look after yourself.”

“I burned my finger,” you wiggle out of his tight hold and turn around in his embrace to hold your burned finger to his lips. “Can you kiss it better?”

Andy cups your face to press his lips to yours. He puts all his feelings into this one kiss. This one chance.

“I-“ you gulp for air when he finally ends the kiss. “I meant my finger…”

Part 4

Tags in reblog.

[jokeroutsubs]

Article written by K.S., published on rtvslo.si (MMC) on 10.05.2024 english translation by fabriconmyhead (IG), proofread by GBoleyn123 (IG)

📝 ENG Translation: Joker Out topped only by Miley Cyrus

After several years, a Slovene song is among the most-played songs on the radio

Every year, IPF (Collective Management Organisation of Performers and Phonogram Producers Slovenia) presents the official data about the most played songs on Slovene radio stations in the past year. While there are usually basically no Slovene songs on the chart, last year was completely different. Two words: Joker Out.

In 2022 the first Slovene song was only at 48th place. But last year this completely changed, said the director of IPF Viljem Hribar. In the last year, Joker out's song Carpe Diem was the second most played song, put on by the radio stations.

The IPF award for the most played Slovene song in 2023 was handed to the boys of Joker Out, who were not present at the event as they are recording a new album abroad, through their representative. They also received the award for the producer of this piece, as they self-published Carpe Diem.

The award for the overall most played domestic performer in the past year was again given to Nina Pušlar. Her song 'Malo, malo' came tenth in the final count. 'Nina, Nina, Nina' also made it to the top 100. Similarly, Žan Serčič also had two songs in the top 100: 'Pusti mi spomin' which came 35th and also 'Pijan od ljubezni' which was 67th. Otherwise, there were seven Slovene songs among the top 100.

In the final count, Miley Cyrus' hit 'Flowers' was the most played song in 2023, followed by Joker Out with 'Carpe Diem' and Pink with 'Trustfall'.

10 most played songs on Slovene radio stations: 1 Miley Cryus - Flowers 2 Joker Out - Carpe Diem 3 Pink - Trustfall 4 David Guetta & Anne-Marie & Coi Leray - Baby Don't Hurt Me 5 Ed Sheeran - Eyes Closed 6 Purple Disco Machine, Kungs - Substitution 7 Taylor Swift - Antihero 8 Dermot Kennedy - Kiss Me 9 David Guetta ft. Bebe Rexha - I'm Good/Blue 10 Nina Pušlar - Malo, malo

! DO NOT REPOST, and if you quote, please link back.

[supergirlmayhem]

It's a Trustfall, baby

“An unexpected law passed this morning that was not passed in the future. We must figure out how to make this right. The repercussions could be disastrous.” Alex put a hand on her hip as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ok, and it couldn’t wait? How serious is it?” Kara turned to face her, “It’s an anti-alien law. Any unmarried aliens are being deported.” Alex has to face the reality that she might lose another woman that she loves if she doesn't act quickly...

Check out this New Work posted to the 2024 collection by @someoneyouloved93 HERE and the accompanying artwork by @missluthorwillseeyounow HERE.

[wolfwafflez]

The best highlights from my Huskerdust playlist, since it's on Apple Music and most people have Spotify. XD These are some I feel are SPOT ON. Let me know what you think and feel free to add!

Husk:

“Fortune Favors” by Royal Republic

“Take It from An Old Man” by the cast of Waitress (Broadway)

“I Drink Alone” by George Thornogood & the Destroyers

“I Hope That I Don’t Fall in Love With You” by Tom Waits

“Demon Kitty Rag” by Katzenjammer

“Fake” by Mystery Skulls

“Golden Hour” by JVKE

“Gambling Man” by The Overtones

“Come in Mr. Lonely" by Jerry Dyke

“I Like Me Better" by Lauv

Angel:

“GLAM!” by Allie X

“Thank Me Later” by Anna of the North

“These Drugs” by Baby Queen

“That Man” by Caro Emerald

“So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings” by Caroline Polachek

“Jacket” by Carsie Blanton

“Talk Too Much” by COIN

“I Touch Myself” by Divinyls 

“Dead and Lovely” by Tom Waits

“Pink in the Night” by Mitski

The two of them:

“Reasons I Drink” by Alanis Morissette

“Stuck in the Middle With You” by Stealers Wheel

“Us” by Carlie Hanson

“Last Night on Earth” by Delta Goodrem

“Like Whiskey” by Dixon Dallas

“Buzzin’ Like You” by Emily Brooke

“May I Have This Dance” by Francis and the Lights

“Trustfall” by Pink

“Freak Show” by Ingrid Michaelson

“Love song” by Lana Del Rey

[fanfictionfaberrycentral]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Arias/Alex Danvers, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor Characters: Samantha "Sam" Arias, Alex Danvers, Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor, Ruby Arias Additional Tags: Fake Marriage, Fluff, Family Fluff, Alex Danvers is So Done, Kryptonian Samantha "Sam" Arias Summary:

“An unexpected law passed this morning that was not passed in the future. We must figure out how to make this right. The repercussions could be disastrous.”

Alex put a hand on her hip as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ok, and it couldn’t wait? How serious is it?”

Kara turned to face her, “It’s an anti-alien law. Any unmarried aliens are being deported.”

 Alex has to face the reality that she might lose another woman that she loves if she doesn't act quickly...

[tooxmanyxships]

I'm excited about this one

[twofacedharveydent]

Close your eyes and leave it all behind Go where love is on our side It's a trustfall, baby

Blue Books Series | Noelle Kelley x Jamie Reagan → Happy (belated) birthday @missecharlotte​

[pinksource]

Closе your eyes and leavе it all behind Go where love is on our side It's a trust fall, baby

P!nk - Trustfall

[taradiddled]

I think "It's a trustfall Baby" by Pink is also a good song for From Adam To Ada 😌

Probably around chapter 15. In chapter 10 Ada is still fighting her feelings and quoting "I Won't Say I'm In Love".