#let's say that's after he got to loosen up bc the mission went without a hitch :)

[youraveragecatastrophe]

[ID : four pencil sketches, digitally colored, of characters from the 2019 show Carmen Sandiego.

Carmen as seen by Zack and Ivy during their first meeting in the donut shop, but she looks closer to her young appearance in VILE island : her hair goes to her shoulders, her face is rounder and she wears the coat and hat she stole from Cookie Booker. She is frowning and balling her fists as if trying to appear intimidating.

Carmen on the runway in Milan. Her hair, in a ponytail, is fluffy like her regular hair. She looks to the viewer with a cocky smile as she strikes a pose.

Julia in Rio, wearing the ACME suit with the pants instead of the skirt. She is leaning against the table where Carmen and Shadowsan were drinking coffee, looking intently at a cup.

Zack at the party in Dubai, wearing a black jacket with a complex multicolored pattern. He looks to the side with a smile. /End ID]

Some things I wish we'd seen in season 2 of Carmen Sandiego! In no particular order, a visibly younger and scruffy Carmen during her first meeting with Ivy and Zack, Carmen's Milan runway look having her fluffy hair instead of it being straightened, Julia in an ACME pantsuit instead of the skirt, and Zack wearing a more original jacket than the black one he wore in the Emirates.

(Zack's suit is from here, because I could not design something this complicated)

[lincolndjarin]

ride cowgirl! ★ (agent whiskey x reader)

(18+ mdni) pairings : agent whiskey x afab!reader summary : you like to make bets with your coworker for simple things, what happens when he decides he wants to raise the stakes? warnings & tags : no use of y/n, smut, sort of dubcon there's reluctance but everything is consensual, porn with plot, this ended up actually being mostly plot lmao, p in v sex, unprotected sex, forced orgasm, light bondage, use of restraints, fully clothed sex, pet names, size kink, praise, whiskey big dick truther word count : 2.3k a/n : first new fic post on the new blog!!! I had so much fun with this thank you so much to the person who requested it !! one of my google forms anon requests was for anything whiskey!! (I put the request at the end) this was the direction I went in >:) this was meant to be a drabble but I got carried away immediately. enjoy!! (this was edited super fast bc i'm tired after work lmao, so apologies for any mistakes)

It was a stupid deal. 

And you never should have made it. 

Of course it’s a little late for that now, when he’s already tying your hands behind your back with his ridiculous flask belt. 

“This wasn’t a part of the original agreement.” You grumble as he pulls the leather tight. That smug smile on his face. 

“You said, anyway I wanted it. This is how I want it.” He leans back against the headboard to admire his work. His eyes focused on the way your chest pushes out now with your arms forced behind you until you cough to get his attention. He takes his time before letting his eyes crawl back up to your face, still grinning ear to ear. 

“Can we just get this over with?” You groan. 

“Oh come on, gorgeous.” He’s loosening his tie, his smile never falters. “I already told you we don’t have to do this. I’ve offered you several outs and you keep turning them down. Besides,” He flashes his teeth at you in a toothy grin. “it’s no fun for me if you don’t want it.” 

That’s exactly what he’d said when you’d made this deal a week ago. 

“I think I want your hat.” You said rather confidently. The two of you had a long standing rivalry. You were placing bets nearly every week at this point. The winner was whoever had the most successful missions. It had started off simple. The loser has to take the other out to dinner, or pay for drinks after a night out. 

After a few months of that you’d gone out with Whiskey more times then you’d gone on any dates. 

Then you decided to raise the stakes. 

The other person's paycheck that week, a piece of tech the other had, at one point your mothers phone number was on the line. (Thankfully that week you had won.)

This week you were feeling lucky. So you pointed at his cowboy hat, he was never seen without. 

“If I win I want your hat.” You cock your head to the side, smirking. 

“You have a hat already.” He was typing up a mission report, you had come in as you always did on Monday mornings. 

“Nice observation agent, how’d you figure that out?” You took a pen from the mug on his desk, rapidly clicking it in an attempt to get under his skin. “That doesn’t change my mind, I don’t want my hat. I want yours.”

He sighs in irritation, taking the pen from you and moving the mug to the other side of his computer. 

“And if you win you can have mine.” You flick the rin of his hat as you say it and he finally turns to glare at you. 

“I don’t want your hat, I already have a hat.” 

“Someone’s in a bad mood today.” You whisper theatrically as he turns back to his work. 

“I’ve got a lot of paperwork to get through darlin’ so let’s hurry this up.” 

“I already told you. I want your hat, if you don’t want mine then pick something else.” 

He turns in his desk chair completely to face you now. Annoyance visible on his face. 

“If I win, then you wear my hat.” As he speaks he cracks the first smile you’ve seen on him all morning. 

“You aren’t making any sense, are you still waking up? Do you want me to go get you some coffee?” You laugh but he leans forward. Even though you were up on the desk and he was in his chair he was still nearly face to face with you. 

“Darlin’ you can be so cute sometimes.” You have no idea what he means but his voice has a condescending tone that makes you scowl. 

“Stop being coy and just clarify.” His first signs of a smile turn into a full blown grin. 

“Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.” He whispers, you’re about to slap him for making such a crass joke but he looks completely serious. 

“That’s not funny. What do you really want?” You pray he doesn’t see the goosebumps on your arms at his words, you spend so much time with him yet he’s never made a pass at you. You’ve watched him hit on countless women these last few months but he’s never turned his attention towards you quite like this. 

“I told you. You win, you get my hat. I win, you wear it.” He has to be messing with you. You want to believe that he’s just trying to push your buttons but you know purely based on the way he looks at you that he couldn’t be more serious. 

It’s an insane offer. But it’s not like you haven’t thought about it. Who wouldn’t be curious about what he must whisper to get women to come home with him, what he must promise them. 

Stop. You can’t seriously be considering this. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Obviously I’m not doing that.” You get up to leave. Embarrassed by the entire situation. 

“You win, you get my hat and the Bronco. I win, you wear the hat.” You’re already walking out when he says it and you stumble a bit before turning back to stare at him slack jawed. 

“You’d give me your car?” The disbelief in your tone is palpable. 

“If you won.”

And you just couldn’t say no. It was too good of an offer. 

So you set up ground rules. 

You wanted your clothes to stay on, at least as much as possible for the situation. Which he agreed to, so long as the two of you did it “how ever he wanted.” You didn’t realize until much later what that entailed. And of course there was the fact that he wanted you to enjoy it. An odd request all things considered, but he said it was important to him that you had a good time. 

“It's no fun for me if you don’t want it.” 

He had insisted that if you weren’t into it that he would stop, especially if he thought you were faking it. 

Once everything was decided the two of you shook hands. 

And then, by some cruel trick of fate, you had fumbled not one, not two, not even three, but all of your missions that week. A feat that has never happened to you in the entire history of your employment with Statesman. 

So that’s how you ended up like this. 

Fully clothed other than your discarded panties, straddling your most annoying coworker, who’s sitting underneath you, dressed the same as always except his pants are unzipped, with his belt around your wrists. 

“Just let me know when you’re ready darlin’, take your time. I can wait all night, I've got nothing else planned.” 

You could tell him no. You should. You just don't want to.

The second you did he would take the belt off your wrists, hand you your panties (the ones you pretended you didn’t see him shove in his pocket when you threw them on the bed,) and send you on your way. And he’d do it all with a smile. 

Of course you can’t let that happen, that would just mean that he’s won, again. 

He wouldn’t even tell anyone, not that anyone knew about the deal to begin with. But he’d never tease you for bailing, he’d just make you live with the knowledge that you bit off more than you could chew. 

And worst of all, if you had won, you know for a fact that he would have handed over the keys to his car with zero hesitation. 

So you roll your eyes and nod. 

He clicks his tongue, leaning forward, his hands rub your thighs, pushing your skirt up further. 

“Tell me you want it sweetheart.” He taunts, making you sigh loudly. 

It’s not that you don’t want it. God knows you want it. You crave it. But you can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

“I want it.” You say, almost comically emotionless which has him frowning, sitting up straighter. 

“Let’s just call it. You clearly don’t, and I’m not interested in an unenthusiastic partner.” He begins to lift you off of his hips but you push against him, properly sitting yourself in his lap. 

“Give me a second, Jesus. I’m not even warmed up, just- I need a minute. We’re doing this.” There’s a determination in your voice that stops his efforts.

There are a few seconds of silence before he speaks again. 

“Do you want me to… warm you up?” It’s the first time he’s dropped the cocky facade since you started this ordeal. 

“No. I think I’m okay. Let’s do this.” You nod a few times, almost like you’re hyping yourself up. The two of you hadn’t factored in a lot of the logistical details of this deal, more specifically foreplay. 

As he pulls himself out of his jeans you’re starting to wish that you had. He isn’t even completely hard yet and you aren’t entirely sure how you’re going to take all of it. 

He unceremoniously spits into his hand before gripping himself at the base, steadily stroking himself. 

It’s like he’s a porn star and you’ve got front row seats to a private show. 

You’re close enough that when he leans forward, softly grunting, his face brushes against yours. His cock becoming fully erect in his hand, you hope he doesn’t hear you gulp. 

As he jerks himself off, his free hand reaches up, removing his hat before placing it onto your head. It’s a little too big for you so it tilts to one side. He gives you a lopsided grin before picking up his pace. You watch with wide eyes. 

He’s too big. 

In every way possible. 

He’s too long, he’s too thick, he’s simply too much. 

And you can’t tell him that. He’s smug enough as is, if you say “actually nevermind. you’re dick’s too big I couldn’t possibly fuck you.” he’ll be even more insufferable than he already is. But much to your chagrin he already knows what you’re thinking. 

“You still sure you don’t want me to warm you up?” His nerves are clearly gone as he chuckles before hissing through his teeth. His thumb brushes over his pink, weeping tip. 

“I’m fine. Ready when you are.” Not true. 

“Maybe I could free your wrists. You can do it yourself if you don’t want me to do it.” He’s reaching behind you and you once again halt his efforts. 

“No. We’re doing this your way.” 

You’re certainly overestimating your abilities, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

You scoot forward in his lap until his cock is resting between your thighs. You sit up on your knees and he lines himself up at your entrance. 

“Last chance to back out, sugar.” With that final taunt from him you sink down onto him without warning. Barely taking more than an inch before you drop your chin to your chest so he can’t see your face as he simultaneously leans back to rest against the headboard once more. 

It feels like he’s splitting you in half. 

His hands return to your thighs. His palms splayed against you as his thumbs rub comforting circles against your flesh. 

The sting is all you can think of but buried beneath it all is a heat that threatens to consume you. 

You lift your head to look at him. He’s lost a bit of his bravado as he runs his fingers through his hair. You don’t give him (or yourself to be fair) a chance to adjust. You have a desperate need to watch him unravel despite the ache between your legs. 

You take a deep breath before you take nearly half of him in one rock of your hips. 

The stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, the heat in your stomach is bubbling over as you let out a moan you’ve never heard from yourself before. His grip on your thighs is tight enough now that you’re certain you’ll have to wear a longer skirt tomorrow. 

“Christ darlin’.” He stutters out, his eyes are squeezed shut and you couldn’t be more proud. 

“Is this enthusiastic enough for you?” You manage to grunt out between your small gasps. 

He mumbles something that sounds like a yes.

You have to wait longer this time before moving again, you wait until the pain eases itself away and is replaced with that heat you’ve been pursuing. Only then do you try taking more of him, you don’t manage all of it but you take most of him after a bit of effort. The entire time his eyes are trained on you, a look of admiration on his face. 

“You are something else, gorgeous.” He whispers.

His low drawl shoots straight to your core and god you’re sure he knows it. He whimpers when your walls clench around him.

You haven’t even started properly riding him and you’re close. 

The way he fills you has you seeing stars. You would love to try and banter with him right now, tease him, but you’re too far gone. Too focused on the way his tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he lets out a soft whine before squeezing your hips.

“Let me touch you, please.” He mutters breathlessly.

You aren’t one to deny good southern manners. 

You give him a nod and he wastes no time as he rubs your clit with the pads of his fingers frantically, like he’s trying to make you cum as fast as possible. You’re confused as to why for only a moment because your climax approaches so rapidly it nearly knocks the wind out of you. Your hips stutter as you sit, finally fully impaled on his length, in an instant your vision is a searing hot white. His hat tilts forward on your head, briefly covering your eyes. You’re left breathless in his lap, when you come down from your high he’s grinning at you.

“I win again darlin’.” 

You groan as you recall the conversation you’d had right before he had tied your hands behind your back. 

“If I finish first you can have my hat, if you do, then I get to finish inside you.” 

“Absolutely not.”

“If I finish first you can have the Bronco.”

“...Fine.”

a/n : requester ily, thank youuu

[starilicious]

ishq wala love (echo x gn!reader)

》 summary: reader comforts an insecure echo after the end of tbb episode 4 "cornered" about having mechanical parts as part of his body.

》 word count: ~2.2k

click here to read on AO3

》 warnings: slight sensory overload, mild panic attack (i think it could be classified as relatively vague in regards to the description), insecure echo about his body, a teensy bit of in universe swearing, lots of flufffff and a dash of angst here and there, no use of y/n [if i should add more warnings, please let me know!]

》 spoilers: extremely mild ones from tbb episode 4 "cornered"

》 a/n: hello! this is my first tbb fic, so i really hope i do the show, the characters, and the fandom justice hehe ^_^ over the past few days, i've become obsessed with tbb fics, particularly the echo x reader ones bc my GOODNESS this man is such a soft bean who deserves all the love in the galaxy. as a result, please enjoy this sleep-deprived frenzy of a fic that i wrote at 1 am and let me know your thoughts! :)

》 misc. notes:

• title of the fic is from the hindi song "ishq wala love" from the film student of the year. i've linked the song (in blue) with some pretty good english translations in case you would like to take a listen, but it isn't necessary for the fic–i just thought it fit well!

• i kind of got way too invested in building up the environment at the beginning, so apologies if it seems like a slow start! i just had to indulge in having the other characters there too <3

• please ignore the inaccuracies of the havoc marauder. i don't really know what the ship looks like, especially the living quarters, so i unintentionally ended up using the ghost from swr to guide my writing for that part.

• what the reader says at the end about the word in love in her native language is true. the language i'm referring to here is hindi, and we have several different words for love. in my very humble opinion, i think it’s one of the many characteristics of the language that makes hindi so sweet-sounding and poetic :)

• THANK YOU FOR 100 NOTES OMG AHHH YOU ALL ARE TRULY AMAZING 😭<333 (7/1/2021)

After Tech piloted the Bad Batch away from Pantora and safely entered hyperspace, you all decided to turn in to get some rest–or at least attempt to. With the bounty hunter scare, you and the boys figured it would be best to discuss what to do tomorrow morning, for Omega’s sake.

You tucked Omega in with her doll and offered her a comforting smile. “Don’t worry ‘Meg,” you said softly, running a gentle hand through her cropped blonde hair. “You’ll be safe, I promise. You’re stuck with us for life.”

Omega smiled sleepily at your teasing and held her arms out for a hug, one which you gladly indulge. “Sweet dreams, love,” you murmur as you let go. You shut off the lamp in her makeshift room and closed the curtains as you climbed down the ladder.

You turned around to find Hunter looking at you from his seat in front of the blinking controls. You raised an eyebrow as you plopped down in front of him unceremoniously, the exhaustion of the action-packed day catching up to you.

"You're good with her," he murmured as you both glanced at the light beige divider and you shrugged in response.

"Just looking out for her. Besides, you're not so bad yourself. She mimics your every move," you grinned. Hunter chuckled fondly as he recalled the memory where they were all stuck in the Kaminoan prison cell and Omega copied his every gesture.

The two of you lapsed in a comfortable silence as you mulled over the day's events, the hum of the ship thrumming beneath your feet.

"We'll be okay. It's tiring and difficult and none of us know how to raise a child, but we'll be okay," you said, breaking the quiet with optimism. You placed a hand on Hunter's shoulder and smiled. "Crosshair will be okay too. Have faith."

Hunter sighed but nodded in agreement as he put his hand over yours. "Goodnight," he said as he stood up, stretching his muscles.

"Sleep well."

You sat at the small table for a few more minutes to think before standing up yourself. You quickly checked in on Tech in the cockpit since he was on watch, and he immediately shooed you away, insisting you get some sleep. You had a feeling he only did so to optimize the ship in peace without distractions.

Nevertheless, you obliged and left him alone. Walking to the back of the ship, you completed your rounds. Wrecker was snoring loudly and you stifled a laugh. At least he was sleeping well–it was all you could ask for really. But frankly, you had no idea how Crosshair was ever able to sleep through it. Thinking about him and seeing his empty bunk made your heart pang in loss, but you were as determined as the rest of them to somehow bring him back. You had to.

You opened the door to Hunter and Tech’s shared room to find Hunter already sleeping soundly and you quickly left. With his enhanced senses, he was already a light sleeper, and compounded with his responsibilities as a leader, he rarely got any rest. You worried for him.

Last stop was your and Echo's room. You stepped in to find the light still on. Echo was sitting on the floor in front of your bunk, staring at the ground.

"Hey there handsome," you joked lightly in an attempt to get his attention and mask your unease. Echo usually only came near your bunk when something was wrong and after everything that happened today, it was safe to say you were concerned.

Echo didn't respond. Did he hear me? You make your way over to your lover and sit down in front of him. You place your hands on top of his.

"Echo, honey?" You said softly and finally finally he looked up at you. Your heart dropped into your stomach.

"Oh, darling," you breathed and you moved to his side to envelop him into a hug, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck. You didn’t say anything more–you saw the deep pain swirling in his eyes, the grief, the loss. The anger. You let Echo take the lead; you knew how difficult it was to wrangle raging thoughts and muster them into words.

You didn’t know how much time passed of you two sitting on the floor, breathing each other in before Echo spoke.

“Today… when we went on the supply run, I was dressed as a droid.”

You bit your lip, knowing exactly where this was going. But you didn’t interrupt, letting him continue. Your thumb rubbed absentmindedly on his arm as you listened.

“That vendor we were talking to wouldn't take what we had. And then he saw me,” Echo took a deep breath. You stayed quiet, holding his hand in a manner that you hoped soothed his anxieties at least a little bit.

“Hunter sold me as a droid to him. I-I know he doesn’t see me as a droid. I know that. But–” Echo’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat of the emotion building up. Echo didn’t know how to express what he wanted to say. He didn’t even want to speak it aloud–that would make it feel too real. And Echo severely doubted he could handle the heartbreak. Can I do this?

“Cyar’ika,” he murmured and you hummed in response. Echo pulled away from you, his hand still in yours. Now or never. “I need you to be completely, absolutely, 100% honest with me,” he whispered. Echo steeled his expression, doing his best to hide how terrified he truly was.

You nodded because of course you would be. When were you not?

But the way Echo gazed at you threw you off. Something was wrong, very wrong. You were almost scared of what he would say next, but you made a gesture for him to say what was on his mind. Clearly, this was important.

“Do you really want to be with me when I’m just–” Echo struggled with the last few words and you strained to pick them up with how they caught in his throat. “–a pathetic, disgusting, hybrid machine?” It’s out, I said it. I said it. Echo felt like he couldn’t breathe, the pressure on his chest too much, too much. He stared down at the floor, face flooded with shame.

You stared at him in blatant disbelief, eyebrows furrowed and mouth open from a shocked laugh. No no no Echo. You’re nothing of the sort. You didn’t move. Echo’s breath hitched as he looked back up at you, broken and open and raw.

“Don’t lie, please don’t lie to me. I know there's no way you could ever love me when I… when I look like this,” Echo whispered, but he may as well have shouted with the way the blood was rushing through your ears.

And then something in you snapped.

You removed your hands from his and placed them on his cheeks, pulling him in until your foreheads were touching. “Echo, you need to listen to me,” you instructed and heaved a breath as you tried to sort your own rushing thoughts into articulated words. But the effort was futile as your careful speech turned into a haphazard and passionate stream of consciousness.

His eyes glistened with unshed tears and your heart broke into pieces. Echo gave you all of his attention. What are you going to say? He didn’t want you to agree, but he would understand if you did. Echo felt disgusted with himself. The walls were closing in on him. Breathing was getting harder.

“You are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me. I don’t give one flying banthashit about any of your mechanical parts. If anyone ever says anything about them, they’re di’kuts and you can send them my way because I will not hesitate to punch some sense into them,” you spat with pure determination, not even noticing the Mando’a slip. After being surrounded by clones for so long, you absorbed bits and pieces of the language. You didn’t even register how Echo picked up on the word, much too focused on getting your point across. You were a person on a mission and nothing would stand in your way.

The knot in Echo’s stomach was loosening a bit, the storm in his mind beginning to break. The walls were a bit farther from him. He wasn’t drowning in his own presence anymore.

“Because you know what? You’re still my Echo. You’re a man, my dear. Not a machine. You never were, and never will be. These parts?” you gestured to his scomp link, his legs, the cybernetic implant in his head. “They mean nothing. Absolutely nothing. Don’t focus on them.”

You smiled sadly as you rubbed your thumbs gently on his cheeks. “I fell in love with you, Echo, not your body. I love the way you make me laugh, the way you comfort me, the way you cry with me. As much as I kriffing hate that you have been through so much pain because of those damned Separatists, I’m grateful for the fact that I’m in love with a man who would do anything for his family, for his brothers.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you remembered Fives coming back home from the Citadel but no Echo in sight. You would never admit it to anyone, but you swore a piece of you had died that day.

Echo felt like he was going to cry. The pressure that had been building up in his chest was releasing. He could breathe again, slowly, slowly. His only focus was you, was your words. The artificial lights didn’t seem to be as glaring now. They were softer, calmer.

“Echo, my love, even through it all, you not only survived, but you came out on top, victorious,” you paused, briefly overcome with how much love and gratitude you had for this wonderful man. “You came back to me, Echo, and you’re as handsome as ever. I have never stopped loving you, and never will. Don’t you ever forget that darling.”

Echo drew in a shaky breath. The harsh cold of the floor grates was biting into his skin, but he didn’t care. It grounded him as much as your warm touch on his face. He could breathe again. My cyar’ika.

Your fiery and passionate emotional speech came to an end as you stared into your lover’s eyes. There was so much more you could say, but you feared words would not be able to convey it all. You hoped your eyes would be enough to soothe his pained and tired soul.

Silent tears trailed down Echo’s face and you gently brushed them away as you pulled him into a tight hug. It was all you could do to not cry yourself. Echo was always so strong–you admired him for it.

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice thick with appreciation and love. You didn’t say anything. There was no need to. The charged air between you both was enough. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence on the floor of the Havoc Marauder, deep in your own thoughts.

“Ishq wala love,” you muttered fondly after some time, still caught up in your own mind.

“Hm?” Echo questioned, curious as to what you said. The soft sound gently pulled you out of the clouds and back to the man in your arms as you attempted to explain.

“There’s a phrase in my native language, ishq wala love. You see, in Basic, there’s just one word for love, which is love. But back home, we have several different words for love, each with their own subtle, but distinct meaning,” you blew out a breath as you tried to figure out what to say. Echo was hanging on to your every word.

“There’s… there isn’t really a direct translation, but the best I can come up with is that the love that we have, ishq, is much deeper than just romantic love. It’s deep and strong and pure and unyielding. It–it reminded me of us,” you admitted, a bit sheepish. Your fingers dance along Echo’s scomp link, nervous.

Echo took a moment to process your explanation before smiling. You felt your heart stitch itself back together again after seeing that beautiful smile. You would do anything to keep it on his lovely face.

“Ishq wala love,” he echoed, his pronunciation a bit off. You giggled in response. “Close enough,” you teased and Echo simply beamed. You leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on his soft lips, rubbing his metal arm gently.

Echo stood up then, offering a hand to you to help you up. You took it and he led you over to the bunk you shared together. You both quickly climbed in, relaxing in the warmth of the well worn blankets and the other’s presence.

Your head was near his chest and you could hear the soothing dull sound of his steady heartbeat. Your arm curled over his waist protectively and your head rested comfortably on his flesh arm. Echo shut off the light and you were ensconced in black velvety darkness.

“Goodnight, cyar’ika.”

“Sweet dreams, Echo. I’ll be here, waiting for you.”

please consider reblogging! it really helps me and is super encouraging ^_^

[scarecrow-supremacy]

A/N: Oookieee, so I decided to start writing a new fic bc I have great ideas for a story line. Yet I can’t bring myself I writing an actual beginning. Like I’ve already written some random chapters, but I can’t do anything with them because they don’t really make much sense without the context of the rest of the fic/my ideas. Like this chapters is where the romance/actual x reader gets into actual action. Hopefully you get the gist of what the plot is, and aren’t confused as hell from this part. Sorry if it’s a bit long, it’s around 4.8k-ish words. Enjoy 💜

Hatake Kakashi wasn't one to celebrate his birthday.

He simply thought that they were foolish excuses to let loose and party. To Kakashi, birthdays were no reason to be happy and celebrate. They were just reminders of how long he had endured the pain of living. Each year marked another without the people he once held close in his heart. His father, his sensei, his teammates, and (y/n)...

The day that (y/n) gone on that horrible mission was his special day. The mission he was supposed to go on, but (y/n) filled in for because she wanted him to go celebrate with Gai and the others. So much for having the day of joy...Kakashi thought to himself mournfully.

With a great sigh, he grabbed the last of his belonging, shoving them in his mission pack. He'd promised to take his students out of a group mission for the day, but it had been mostly for selfish reasons. Kakashi had hoped that this would take his mind off of the weight in his soul, yet knowing that his efforts would be futile. The loss would never leave him, it would always follow him like a darned shadow. It would forever haunt him. There was not letting go of the horrors of his past.

Slowly, Kakashi strolled to the gates of Konoha to meet his kids, shoving his hands in his pockets as he mumbled a little tune under his breath. The dark cloudy sky and drizzling rain seemed to mirror how he felt inside.

Drip, drop. Drop, drop. Drop, drop.

Each raindrop fell upon the dirt paths of the town, dampening Kakashi's Jonin uniform. If only he'd gone on that mission, if only he hadn't let (y/n) take his place. If only so many things that happened hadn't. If only he felt whole again. He could feel the heavyweight of guilt on his shoulders, spreading pain throughout his body. Sure, Team 7 filled the void, but they could only do so much. If there is one thing I wish for, it is that these kids will grow up to be happy.

A soft smile played upon Kakashi's face as he approached the three teens. "KAKASHI-SENSEI!" His hyperactive blonde student, Uzumaki Naruto, yelled at him, "YOU'RE LATE-TTEBAYO!" He raised his fist in anger. Sakura glared at both Kakashi and Naruto, slapping the boy's back to calm him down. Off to the side stood Sasuke, his hands in his pockets as he briefly kicked the dirt and pebbles around him to form his clan's symbol. "Usuratonkachi," he grumbled at the group. To be honest, Kakashi did feel a little guilty about keeping the kids waiting for him. They were being held back just because he was wallowing in self-pity. And Kakashi felt ashamed of that; ordering his mind to push his thoughts further to the back of his mind.

Kotetsu and Izumo, guards of the gates, turned to the team and smiled in greeting. "The gate opening mechanism is broken, so we have to manually open the gates," they explained. "Heading out yet again, eh?" Kotetsu chuckled. "I thought you lot just came back from a mission. Ya leaving so soon?" Izumo asked. Naruto pumped his hand into the air, "Yeah! Dattebayo! It's only a C rank, but it'll be fun-ttebayo!"

He's a lot like you, eh Obito, Kakashi's mind wandered as he looked up at the clouded sky, a drop of rain fell upon his nose and slid down his mask. If only you, Minato-sensei, and Rin were here to see us in action. You would be proud.

But what about (y/n)? Part of Kakashi was surprised that he didn't think of her immediately. Did he still believe that she could've been alive? After the Hokage had told him that he'd lost contact with (y/n), Kakashi didn't know what to think. It had been 3,650 days since she left. 3,589 since she was supposed to come back. And 3,529 days since they fully lost contact. What were the chances she'd come back, alive or injured? Kakashi wanted to believe that she was still alive. Was that realistic?

"She's gone, Kakashi! You need to understand that!" He flashed back to when Asuma, Gai, and Kurenai had tried to slap some sense into him. Well actually, Kurenai had slapped him. "Kakashi-sensei?" Sakura gently tugged his sleeve, straining her arm up so her red umbrella would also cover his head. "Are you okay? You've been spacing out a lot lately." She whispered as she looked up at him.

"I'm fine, Rin," Kakashi weakly smiled, "It's nothing that you should worry about." Sakura flashed him a questioning look, "Rin?" Sucking the air, Kakashi's whole body tensed up, "Sorry." He looked away, turning his attention to the bickering Sasuke and Naruto. "Just a little mix-up, Sakura." He put on a fake smile, breaking up the boy's fight. "Let's go, shall we?"

"Alright! Shanaroo!"

"Dattebayo!"

Kotetsu and Izumo went to open the gates but stopped to exchange worrisome glances. "Someone just knocked from the other side of the gates. Which is weird because our list says that we shouldn't be expecting anybody." Izumo knit his eyebrows together. Kotetsu, who had been looking through a glass which allowed him to see the incomer, hastily urging Izumo to help him. "ANBU!" He had barked at his partner, "Bleeding! Dying, wounds, whatever! They need medical attention!" That had caught Kakashi's attention, he got ready to act as the guards opened up the gates, heaving on the rusted hinges. Yet he was not mentally prepared for what awaited on the other side of the grand doors.

There she stood. Uniform torn, stained and ripped up. The wakizashi sword that was strapped to her hip was blunt and scratched, the sheath dented. Skin scratched and bruised, wounds dripping with blood and gore. A long x shaped cut on the inner side of her left thigh. Gasping and choking for air, she started to wobble, blood dribbling down her limbs and stomach. The rain continued to fall, now hard and heavy; burning and searing the wounds of the lady. Yet she still managed to keep her face from wavering In an instant, Kakashi recognized who the woman was based on her cracked porcelain ANBU mask. (y/n).... "Sakura! Go alert the hospital. And you two boys, clear the way for Sakura so she can get there. Quickly!" Kakashi ordered them as he took the heavily wounded woman in his arms. Anger and fear coursed through Kakashi's veins as his heart thumped erratically. He could feel (y/n)'s body twitch in pain. "Izumo, go let Hokage-sama know that Ibara-hime has returned." Kakashi let out one last demand before zipping off to follow his kids.

"Kakashi..." (y/n) mumbled out his name, "Kakashi..." she shakily rose her hands up to gently cup his masked cheeks. "What is it?" He whispered, gently rubbing her skin through a torn patch of her ripped uniform. "Happy birthday, Hatake..." She softly breathed, her tight grip of Kakashi's chest loosened as her eyes dropped closed. Please don't die, (y/n)... I've waited all the fucking years. You aren't leaving me again. A tear formed in Kakashi's eye, flying off with the rain as he bolted towards the hospital. Stay with me a bit longer, will you?

"My sensei will be here any second with an ANBU woman in need of immediate medical attention!" Kakashi heard Sakura's voice quiver as he barged into the hospital. "I'm here, kids. Go to Gai-sensei and stay with him until I'm back." He quickly barked, flashing all of the nurses who flowed into the room a nervous look. "Please, help her. I'm begging you." He pleaded with the staff uncharacteristically. I need her to live. Need. "We do what we can, sir." One of the medic-nin nodded, putting (y/n)'s unconscious body onto the stretcher. If (y/n) lives, that would be the best birthday gift ever.

Kakashi jogged after the nurses and doctors, peering into the emergency clinic room through the window. "I'm sorry, Sir, but you won't be able to visit the lady until all the major injuries have been cleaned up and treated." A male nurse out his hand in his shoulder from behind. "But..! Okay..." Kakashi let out a sigh, "Isn't there any paperwork that needs to be filled out?"

The nurse shook his head, "The Hokage has come and is speaking to one of my colleagues about it. Don't worry about it. You won't have to take care of any of that." He tried to reassure the angsty shinobi, "The woman is part of the ANBU ranks, right? Her mask is of the uniform." Kakashi nodded his head, biting his lip inside of his mask, "Yeah...she is... but it's kinda complicated." The nurse raised his eyebrow but just shrugged. "Can I speak with the Hokage?" The Hatake requested. "Come this way," the other man sighed, leading him away.

Kakashi let out a deep and long sigh as he held (y/n)'s scraped hand in his gloved ones. He had been told by the same nurse from before that (y/n) was in a decent state to accept visitors, yet was still unconscious. He could tell that the nurse was hiding something from him, but he was too worried about (y/n) to give it a second thought. Hesitantly, he brought her hand to his masked lips, gently pressing them against the fabric. "Ya know, (y/n). After you left, I decided to give those goddamn books a try. And you're right, they are addictive. Thanks for the gift," Kakashi sadly chuckled before pausing for a moment.

"Those books, they helped me a lot. They helped me get through my days, just like you told me."

"They also helped me realize something. They helped me realize that I don't hate you. I don't want to hate, and I never should've."

"I've realized that I was such a dick to you at the beginning and that it was all my fault that our relationship became how it was. I regret it... So when you wake up again, I just want to start over again. Maybe not entirely, but just so that we can leave all the hate behind us. How does that sound?"

Kakashi stared at the sleeping (y/n), her chest heaving up and how slowly and rhythmically. It hurt him to see her like that, her skin swollen in the places of the stitches and anointed bruises. "Listen, (y/n). I'd never been able to tell this to you while you're conscious, so I might as well let it out now. I...I love you." Kakashi rightly shut his uncovered eye. "After feeling your loss, my dumbass self finally realized how much you are worth. After they pass on, you and the others were all I had left. But then you also left me, that hurt like hell." His tone started to break.

"Lord Hokage told me about the whole fake-death move, and I was relieved that you weren't gone for good. And then we lost contact, everybody assumed the mission had been finished, and your squad sacrificed your lives for it. I couldn't let the fact that you could be a dead sink in. It didn't feel right. Gai, Asuma, and Kurenai tried to get me out of another depression cycle. Kurenai even went to the lengths of quite literally slapping some sense into me." Kakashi played with a loose strand of (y/n)'s (h/c) hair.

The muscles of (y/n)'s hand twitched ever so slightly. Kakashi's drooping head snapped up; he'd almost fallen asleep in the chair. "(y/n)?" He murmured as her eyes started to flutter, "(y/n)?"

(y/n) chapped lip parted ever so slowly, taking a big breath of air, her (e/c) eyes squinting. "Hatake..?" She shakily managed to mumbled, her voice hoarse and dry. She tried to prop herself up on the bed, but Kakashi eased her back into her resting position. "Rest, (y/n), you're not ready to stress yourself yet." Kakashi to her, "I'll be back with a nurse and some water for you, alright?" (y/n) opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She simply looked down and nodded.

Moments later, Kakashi came back with the nurse and water. "Here," he carefully put the cup to her lip, gently tipping the cup, "Good." He turned to the nurse, who seemed to be scribbling something down from the little monitor to his clipboard. Kakashi's eyes followed the cord attached to it, to the long x shaped hash in (y/n)'s inner left thigh. What worried Kakashi was the anxious look on the nurse's face.

"(l/n)-san, your vitals are doing alright, but you'll have to stay here for a night or two just so that we can keep an eye on something's that may need monitoring." He curtly nodded his head, "Lord Hokage wished to speak to you. So, sir, that means you may have to leave."

Kakashi tried to reason with the other man, but (y/n) reached to weakly squeeze his thigh. "It's okay, Hatake. You can just drop by later." (y/n) tried to smile. "Fine," Kakashi grumbled, leaving the room and letting Hiruzen in.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hiruzen came back out. "How's (y/n)?" Kakashi asked him impatiently. The Hokage put his hand on Kakashi's shoulder as if trying to soothe him, "She'll be better soon. Don't worry, alright." The silver-haired shinobi let out a small grunt, "I know that she'll get better with time. But what about now?"

Kakashi knew that Hiruzen loved (y/n) almost like a daughter, he cared about her deeply. Hence the elaborate cover-ups to protect (y/n) and her squad on the unconventionally lengthy mission. The Hatake could see the sadness that had tried to be tucked away in the Sarutobi's eyes. "The main concern of the moment is the poison in the gash on her left thigh. The medic-nins have tried to extract as much of it as possible, and try to find something that will counteract the effects." The elderly man explained to him. "Did they find an antidote?" Kakashi questioned.

"That is where the problem lies," Hiruzen explained, "There is a certain medicinal herb that is used alongside a jutsu to nullify the effects, as the poison has traces of chakra. We have a few medics on hand who support the skill to perform the jutsu, but we don't have the plant. Even so, that won't be a permanent cure." Kakashi knit his eyebrows together, "How would it not be a perfect cure? Plus, since there are traces of chakra, could we possibly track down the person who created the poison and make them fess up on the cure?" He questioned.

"Great thinking, but..." Hiruzen groaned, "(y/n) said that they performed a self-destruction jutsu just after striking her. He probably thought that it would be in their best interest to take their secrets to the grave with them." Kakashi cursed under his breath, "Fuck... This is terrible."

Hiruzen nodded in agreement, "No duh."

Kakashi's head shot up, "Uh?!"

The elder man's eyes widened, "Did I use the term correctly?! I'm trying to pick up on the phrases the kids are using these days..."

Kakashi gritted his teeth, "Right idea of the meaning, I guess. But the context and timing...wasn't quite fit." Looking ever so slightly dejected, "Oh...alright." Smoothening out the wrinkles in his robe and putting in his cob pipe, "Kakashi, if you are going to stay here with (y/n), could you at least pick up some good food. The food in the hospital canteen is quite bland." Kakashi nodded his head and obliged, only to be stopped in his tracks by Hiruzen.

"Kakashi, I'd like to ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"What caused your change in actions towards (y/n) change so much?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've observed you two whilst you were in the ANBU together, and you never got along that well. And suddenly you act so attached to her, Kakashi. You don't need to answer. It's just that as your leader, I want to understand what is going on in the heads of some of my most trusted people." Hiruzen explained to Kakashi, puffing out a cloud of smoke from his cob pipe.

Kakashi frowned from behind his mask, trying to figure out how to explain his change of feelings in a professional manner. "I think that after I was given the impression that she was gone, I noticed that I cared about her. It made me realize that I was wrong to not see how much she meant in my life." He tried, his voice fading off into a whisper. Hiruzen smiled and nodded, "You really are something else, Kakashi."

Kakashi silently strolled over to Ichiraku's to grab some takeout. The paper lanterns lit the nearly empty streets of Konoha, creating a soft and soothing ambiance. The smell of the rain and moisture still clung to the air, the dirt roads had muddy dampness to them. "Yo! Kakashi, my eternal rival!" A boisterous and friendly voice greeted the said man. "Hey, Gai," Kakashi responded, he noticed his students sitting alongside each other and gave them a quick wave and smile. Naruto and Lee were arguing about who'd get Sakura. Sakura insisted that Sasuke would come around in her favor. Sasuke was quietly eating his food. And Neji and Tenten were discussing a new sword they saw in the windowsill of a weaponry shop.

"I'll take two eggplant miso soups with brown rice noodles," Kakashi leaned over the counter space between Lee and Naruto to order his meal, also effectively stopping the argument. "Thanks, Ayame," he thanked the daughter of Teuchi, owner of the quaint place. "No problem, Kakashi-san!" She chirped.

"Kakashi?" Gai raised his brushy brow, "Your kids told me about what happened this morning..." Kakashi sighed and pulled him aside so that they were at a comfortable distance, "It was (y/n)..." he told his best friend, "She's back and in the hospital because she's not in good health at the moment. I just came here to pick up a meal for her." Kakashi watched as Gai's jaw dropped, "(Y/N) IS ALIVE!" He exclaimed a touch too loud for his eternal rival's taste, "CAN I MEET HER?!" Tears of youthful joy waterfalled down the jumpsuit-clad man's cheeks. "I'll see if you can come tomorrow, alright Gai." Gai smiled broadly, "This is very...unusual. Youthful, nonetheless!" He grinned.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his head and nodded, "I'm glad she's back..." he murmured barely loud enough for Gai to hear. Knowingly, Gai patted Kakashi's back. "Oh! Yeah! Happy birthday, my youthful rival!" He gently punched his comrade's shoulder. A smile formed on Kakashi's lips, "Thanks, Gai." He flashed his eccentric friend his signature close-eyed smile.

"I'll see you later."

"Bye, Kakashi! Have a good night!"

Knock knock, Kakashi rapt (y/n)'s door, "Can I come in?"

"Come in," (y/n) murmured, a small moan of pain escaping her lips, "Ouch..."

Kakashi quickly set the takeout on a little table, rushing to (y/n)'s side. He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist and helped her to the table. "I got us dinner because the food at the canteen isn't that good." He explained with a slight shrug. "Thanks, Hatake," a weak smile formed on her lips. The silvered-haired Jonin served them their meals. "Itadakimasu," they both mumbled.

Heavy tension filled the room as they ate in silence. (y/n) knew that Kakashi had his mask down, but didn't look up. "It's been a while..." Kakashi breathed, in hopes of hearing (y/n) speak, "Too long..." The kunoichi rested her forehead on her palm, "I- Yeah..." she mumbled, eyes growing classier by the second. So much for trying to start a conversation... Kakashi thought sadly as they resumed their meals without a word. The silence seemed to be killed him. Kami, it had been 10 goddamn years! 3650 days since he had gotten to talk to the woman. He missed her. Hell, he could even say that he missed all of their little spats. Hatake Kakashi missed everything about (y/n).

"I missed you..." was all Kakashi mumbled as he pushed his finished food away and pulled up his mask, "All these days, months, and years."

Hot tears slipped down (y/n)'s cheeks, forming a puddle on the table. "I-I came back be-because I didn't want-want to hurt you and the r-rest. Dying on passed down pain to the people who love you. I can't afford to c-carry the guilt of t-that." She mumbled shakily, "I promised to be back, a-and I held up the promise." Kakashi sadly smiled as he awkwardly reached under the table to gently caress (y/n)'s thigh.

"You care about others so much, but you should really take a moment to care about yourself, (y/n)." Kakashi scolded the injured kunoichi, "You had me scared for you; all those gashes and open wounds... You could've died," he knit his eyebrows together in worry. "Don't do that ever again."

(y/n)'s dull smile faltered as Kakashi spoke on, "Now you know how I felt when I saw you doing all those suicidal stunts back then on those missions. It was like you were in a hurry to die... I mean, I was too, but you did some seriously dumb shit," she giggled emptily. Kakashi sweat-dropped, "I see... I guess you are right..." (y/n) rolled her (e/c) eyes as the masked shinobi let out a drained sigh, "I'm always right, Hatake."

"Really, (l/n)? You've been through torturous pain, and you still act like a child." Kakashi groaned, "All these years..." (y/n) shot him a hard glare, "All these years and you still think you're in charge of me." He cast a confused look, "It's my duty to protect you, as a comrade." As a comrade... "I guess, but you're just annoying, Hatake," she huffed.

"I'm sorry about ruining your birthday with my arrival and stuff. I probably ruined your plans with those kids." (y/n) looked down, breaking the silence that had fallen upon them, "I could hear you guys through the gate; they seemed pumped about going out. I'm sorry, I didn't think about the flaws in my whole plan." Kakashi's head snapped up from its resting position on the table, "It's fine, they don't even know it's my birthday," he paused, "But you planned to come here? As in, today in particular. With all those injuries, (l/n), you should've just tried to take care of yourself. My birthday isn't as important as your health."

The (y/n) shook her head, "I was going to stay at a small village pretty far from here before finally coming home. I planned to just heal up there and see how things went from there. I even considered settling down there. But that just didn't feel right," (y/n) face set in a frown, "Once I realized that your birthday wasn't that far off, I decided that I couldn't stay and needed to come back. I doubted I would even live to be back. But here I am..." she said with a soft wince of pain. "It was terrible, I hated every second of it," Her (s/t) fingers made their way to the raw mark on her inner thigh, “I’d already lost so much; there was nothing for me to lose at that point.” Kakashi's face softened as he understood what she meant. (y/n) wasn't put in the mission alone, she had her team. They all must've been killed with time.

"Ouch!" (y/n) yelped as she let out a moan of pain, clenching the fabric of her hospital-issued pajama pants. “Shh..." Kakashi whispered into her ear, quickly leaning in to soothe her, "What's causing all this pain?" He asked with a frown as (y/n) bit her lip. "It's the thing in your thigh, right? Lord Hokage and the nurse told me a bit about it. But I still don't fully understand it and how it can't fully be cured."

(y/n) buried her face in her hands, "Oh..." She mumbled, "The poison can't de be removed because it's already been inside of me too long. And since it is laced with chakra, the properties of it aren't completely like normal poison." She blinked back the stinging agonizing tears in her eyes, "The herb that I need is just going to ease the effects in my body, whilst the jutsu will seal it from triggering anything that was layered in with the chakra." (y/n) explained. Kakashi could tell she was trying her hardest to keep her face straight, pushing back the pain and hurting inside. "The thing is–"

"What?" Kakashi asked the pained woman, his tone soft and soothing, "I can help if I know what's going on."

Warily, (y/n) agreed to speak on, "The place where the mission was stationed at was just underground of the nuke-nin outpost I was from. And the guy who poisonous me was one of the other kids' experiments were done on, along with me. He was a few years older than us, and his name was Hiroto Myoga. His parents were in owed debt to the rogues, they were forced into being test subjects until they died. Which left Hiroto in the nuke-nin's hands." She rubbed the temple of her head pushing away the images that sent a shiver down her spine, "Something similar had happened in the case of my parents and me. But unlike me, when the ANBU did the raid, Hiroto was snuck away just in time."

Kakashi's heart sank as he heard what she was telling him. (y/n) had never known much about her past, the damned curse seal had caused. “Since he was older than most of the other kids there, the nuke-nin's of the outpost decided that they needed to trust their information. It was all precautionary, just in case they were taken down. And that's just what happened. Hiroto was the one ordered to put memory restriction curse seals on us, the kids, before he fled to be underground, where the actual harm was being done. That meant that all this time Hiroto had been working in those old plans." (y/n) closed her eyes tightly, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

With a subtle groan, Kakashi supported (y/n) up from the chair and rested her in her cot. "Don't stress yourself, (y/n). You can just tell me later; it's getting late anyway." He told her. "It's fine, Hatake. Letting this out helps me feel better." She reassured him.

"The ANBU caught wind of suspicious activity in that area and decided to send out a squad to go check out. I overheard Danzō arguing with Lord Hokage about it, and got interested. It was really dumb, but I just wanted to go to learn more about what happened in my past. I learned, but that can with lots of twists and turns. 10 years of going undercover..." (y/n)'s (e/c) eyes met Kakashi's single uncovered black one, "It wasn't long before Hiroto became suspicious of us, slowly narrowing the group down till it was just me." (y/n) took a deep breath and continued, "After Hiroto killed himself in our final fight, my curse seal was lifted. That's how I suddenly was able to remember all of the past. All of it."

A pit formed in Kakashi's stomach as he watched (y/n) cry in silence. He wanted to help her feel better, he really did. But he was afraid that he'd make things worse; dealing with feelings just wasn't his thing. "I'm here for you, (l/n). We've been through so much together, you've helped me through it all," Kakashi tried to reassure her, "It's my turn to look after you. Please, just don't cry." He reached out his hand to brush a tear-off of her streaked cheeks.

“Are you okay with me staying here for the night?" Kakashi asked (y/n) as they sat at the bay window, looking down upon the empty moonlit streets of Konoha. The soft light cast down by the moon seemed to make everything look beautiful, serene, and at peace. "(l/n)?" He asked again, turning to look back at her. A gentle smile played on Kakashi's lips as he saw that she'd fallen asleep. (y/n) had been through so much throughout the day, she not only deserved to rest for a long time but also needed to. "Good night, (y/n)..." he carefully lifted the sleeping beauty and placed her on the cot. Sitting back at the bay seat, Kakashi took in a deep breath. "I love you."

She's finally back.

She's finally home.

[catxsnow]

PROTECT YOU D.W.

Request:  Could I request something with angst and fluff for Damian Wayne please? One where there's a mission that he isn't involved in because he's injured but his s/o is on it but then he freaks out when her coms are off bcs reader might have been injured or dead but when they all get back to the cave s/o is fine. Thanks!

Warning: angst, fluff, Older!Damian

A/N: I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of writing for Damian

GIF not mine

Word Count: 2.5k

Damian hated being left out of a mission. No matter how damaged he was, there was always still argument that he could pull his weight on the team. The time that he had a concussion he had convinced Bruce to still let him go out, and another time when he had a sprained wrist. Damian always found a way to make sure that he was still going out as Robin, especially when you were going with them as well.

You and Damian had been dating just under two years. He arrived at the manor just about a year after you did. It took a while for him to warm up to you, to anyone there, but you seemed to be the easiest to get along with. Damian found himself allured by you. Your skills were comparable to his and when you had put him on his ass in a matter of minutes, he had some respect for you as well.

The more you trained together, the more he was impressed by you. It didn't help that the longer you spent time together, the more you realized that you had grown immense feelings for him. Feelings that were too stubborn to go away or be ignored. It was why, when Damian had won a spar against you, arms pinned to the mat and hovering above him, you had acted on impulse and kissed him.

He was shocked at first, unsure of where this had come from. It didn't take long for his grip on you to loosen, leaving you just enough wiggle room to flip your positions. Damian wasn't sure if he was more surprised by the fact that you had kissed him or that you had used it again him to win your spar.

Either way, it had led to more kisses, more time together, and a relationship that Bruce was weary about. Damian had already acted so high and mighty when he was fighting as Robin, he couldn't imagine what he was going to be like when the two of you fought together. And he was right to be worried.

Damian became protective of you. He wouldn't let you leave on a mission, or even patrol, without him. He would be the one to constantly have your back because there was no one he trusted more to keep you safe than himself. Damian had fallen in love with you and he couldn't bare the thought of losing you to anything.

It was why Damian had once again tried to convince his father that he was healthy enough to go on a mission. His arm was in a cast, but that didn't stop him from wanting to go along side you against a dangerous mission. It was the first time that you were going without him since you had been dating and he was terrified.

It lead to comments about keeping you safe, being there to protect you, and how useless his brothers were. You couldn't stand by and watch any longer as Damian continued to be spoiled with getting what he wanted. This behavior that he had - about only him being able to keep  you safe - it drove you crazy.

"Damian Wayne!" You bellowed. Your voice echoed through the walls of the cave and had caused everyone to freeze in their spots. Damian was yelling at his father to let him go with them as well. He desperately wanted to be there for you, there was just something in his gut telling him that you weren't going to be safe that night.

Damian stopped arguing with Bruce and winced. He slowly turned to face you with his mouth still agape. You stood there with your suit on and hands on your hips, nothing but disappointment fell in your eyes.

Dick looked wearily between Tim and you, unsure of what was about to go down. It wasn't very often that you had yelled at him, much less using his whole name. The tension in the batcave grew as you continued to say nothing until it got unbearable.

"I am a grown adult, I can take care of myself without you being there all the time!" You finally snapped. "I'm tired of you acting like I'm less of a valued member of this team. You go around making it seem like I can't take care of myself! It's degrading. I don't need you to protect me, I never needed you to protect me."

"Beloved, that's not-"

"Save it, Damian," you cut him off, pulling the cowl above your head. He watched silently as you got on top of you bike, revving it up to leave. "Listen to your father, stay here."

Even when you and Damian went on missions together, before leaving the cave, you had always told each other you loved them. There was always the chance that something would go wrong and that someone wouldn't make it back. It wasn't a risk that you were willing to take about missing a final 'I love you'.

However, as you sped out of the cave without another word, Damian had the words hanging off the tip of his tongue. His head hung low as the rest of his family looked at him. They had all known that he was protective of you and that sometimes he did push the limits to keep you safe.

He had never known that you felt that strongly about this. Damian groaned in frustration at your fight, he hated arguing with you, especially right before a mission. You were more reckless when you were angry, and this time he wasn't there for you. No one was there for you, this mission had you going solo.

Bruce looked down to his son, unsure of what to say to him to make things better. He simply squeezed his shoulder before jumping into the batmobile. Tim got in beside him and Dick on his motorcycle.

"Damian," Dick called out to him as the other two left. "They're going to be fine out there, okay? (Y/N) is strong. They aren't angry with you, trust me."

"Better catch up, Grayson."

><

Damian was freaking out.

His father had announced half way through the mission that your comms had been turned off. He wasn't sure if you had done this yourself or something worse. Either way, if it wasn't for Alfred nearly tying him down to the chair, he would have been off searching the city for you. Damian was terrified about what was going on with you.

He knew that this feeling in his gut should have been something he worried about more. Damian should have known that you shouldn't have gone out on your own, he knew that something bad was going to happen. Bruce had full faith that you were fine, he wasn't worried about your comms being off - which had only frustrated Damian even more.

They should be out searching the city for you to see what happened, not come back to the cave where nothing was being done. The mission had been successful, there was no need for worry about where you were. You were the farthest part from the city, it made sense that you would arrive last.

Yet, even Dick was starting to get a little nervous about your whereabouts. It wasn't common for you to turn your comms off, at least not for this long. Whatever happened to you out there, it had to have been for good reason. There was no point in poking the fire with Damian and getting him more worried about you.

It was different for Dick to see Damian so worried about someone. Of course he worried about the rest of his family, but nothing like he worried about you. In Damian's nineteen short years of life, he never expected to love someone so much. It was an unbreakable love between the two of you, no matter how much you argued.

"Where are they!" Damian yelled. He wanted to take his father's vehicle and race out in the streets to find you. He would have too if he wasn't constantly held back.

"(Y/N) said that they were fine right when the mission was over," Tim tried to reassure his brother. "There's nothing to worry about, Damian."

"Bullshit, Drake," Damian snapped. He paused his pacing to glare at his brother. "(Y/N) never does this. Something must be wrong." It was true, you never turned off your comms unless you were meant to go dark. Damian only hoped that you were doing this because you were mad at him still, not because you were injured.

The only thing he hated seeing more than you getting hurt, was you being mad at him. Whenever the two of your fought, there was always a very short period of time before one of you apologized. Damian prayed that this wasn't going to be escalated. He didn't know that you felt so strongly about this, otherwise he would have been less over protecting of you.

The echo of your bike bounced off the walls of the cave. Damian eagerly perked up from his place to wait your arrival. He had no idea what kind of shape you were going to be in when you finally got here, he was worried about you. Damian stood just beside the place you parked your motorcycle with an anxious look.

The second you put the kickstand down and removed your helmet, Damian had thrown himself in your arms. He pulled away from you only to to place his lips on yours. All the concern and anxiety he was feeling melted away with your touch. It was always you that was able to calm him down.

"I was so worried about you, beloved," Damian admitted to you. His eyebrows furrowed as he noticed the small cut along your cheek and the frown on your face. The pad of his thumb gently wiped below your wound. It was then that he noticed the blood dripping down your neck as well. "What happened?"

"Nothing that I couldn't handle on my own," you assured. The tightness in your voice caught him off guard - you were still mad at him. That was confirmed as you pushed past him and everyone else waiting for you. Just as you were about to leave the cave, it was Bruce that stopped you.

"Why were your comms off," he asked. Damian wasn't the only one worried about you. Not to mention that turning them off could have endangered the whole mission - lucky for you, it hadn't. Without another word, you ripped off your cowl and tossed and threw it backwards for him to catch.

The earpiece in your cowl had been damaged. Lucky for you, the bullet shot in your direction had just grazed your suit, not your head. The cowl seemed to satisfy Bruce's question enough, he didn't say anything else as you left to your room.

"I think you messed up," Dick pointed out the obvious. Damian shot a deathly glare at him and stormed out of the cave as well. At that moment, he didn't care if you were mad at him, he was just glad that you were alive.

He hovered by your door for a moment, debating whether or not to knock or just walk in. As he heard the shower going, he decided to just wait on your bed (shared bed at that point, Damian rarely slept in his own anymore). For once, the room seemed foreign to him, like he shouldn't be in there without you.

This fear that resided within him wasn't fear that he normally had when you went on missions, this was a fear that you had finally had enough of him. This kind of fear overpowered every other emotion trying to break through. It left him unable to sit still and cowering from his own thoughts.

The second that he heard the shower turn off, Damian felt as if his heart was going to burst through his chest. His leg bounced up and down as he waited for you to walk out.

"Damian," you spoke as you opened the door. A towel was wrapped around you and water droplets fell from your hair. You knew that he was waiting in your room for you, and yet the surprise of seeing him so nervous shocked you. 

"Beloved, please," Damian stood up to meet you. "I'm sorry that I made you fell this way. I know that you're capable of taking care of yourself, I know you don't need me to protect you."

You said nothing as you continued to pull out a pair of pajamas. Damian sighed at your silence. He hastily grabbed both your hands and forced you to face him. The fear in his eyes took you back. Damian didn't show fear, he always exuded confidence. Seeing him like this, you knew that he was being truthful.

"I love you, (Y/N)," Damian told you. "I only argued to go on these missions because... because I'm petrified that one day something is going to go wrong and that I'm not going to be able to say goodbye, or you to I. If I'm ever going to die out there, I want to make sure that your face is the last I see."

Your bottom lip wobbled as he spoke. You tore your hands out of his so you could pull him into a hug. Tears spilled down your cheeks - you couldn't bare the thought of losing Damian. "I love you, Damian. So, much. I'm sorry that I was angry with you, I know you just want what's best."

Damian shook his head - you were right to be angry, he just wished that he had known about it sooner. Your hands rest at the back of his neck as you pulled him in for a heart-warming kiss.

"Stay with me tonight?" You asked, playing with the few baby hairs at the back of his neck. Your touch sent a chill up his spine. The lingering water on your skin left you cold and you craved the warmth that Damian always had radiating off of him.

"Of course."

"You might not always be able to protect me out on the streets, but you always keep me safe from the nightmares that haunt me."

At the end of the day, that was the protection that you needed the most. You didn't need him to hover over you like a child when you were protecting Gotham. You needed him to remind you that your nightmares weren't real, that they were nothing but a figment of your imagination. Damian was real, and he knew how to keep you safe.

You would always need Damian, even if it wasn't in the way that he imagined.

[mrskurono]

effin hell, that noritoshi angst went right through my heart. now i’m in the hospital thank you

but, let’s say he meets his former love by accident (in a park or anywhere else) and he’s with his child. i just— i can’t imagine how hhhhuuurttful that can be for both parties

like, you complimenting his child like “they look like you” and he’s all silent but we can bet that Noritoshi wants to cry his eyeballs out cuz he hasn’t gotten over you even after all these years

cursing at himself that is was his decision, that he could have chosen you and he could have been ten times happier than he is right now

and when be finally sees you again, he is so afarid to let you go, he is afraid cuz HE KNOWS that’s the last time you guys ever cross paths ever again

sorry noritoshi babe, you did it yourself 😤 i love you but, now, suffer.

(some of your guys asks were basically this so I just complied the two big ones that kinda went over everything)

Let’s zest it up and say you end up with Megumi ok (bc I love Megumi) The chances of you really seeing Noritoshi again are minimal. Megumi has to little ties to the Zenin clan aside from when his cousins need things that, even as a Jujutsu Shaman, you feel secure in the fact you can pursue your own life and leave what heart break you have alone. Not to mention Megumi is incredibly gentle and understanding and it was pure fluke that you both ended up together. One co op mission together and it just kinda settled things together. You both work well together, Megumi was patient and in love, you felt safe and admired him for choosing his own way. It was a subtle thing but strong none the less.

Maybe not the soul clenching love story you’d had with Noritoshi but the love you have for Megumi is the kind that weathers storms and you appreciate him and your shared life for that. Queue the angst.

Something happens, be it as bad as the current arc or something, but it requires the collective thoughts of the three clans. Maki needs Megumi to come with bc regardless he still has that cursed technique and she thinks its important for her cousin to hear what’s happening to keep him, and his newly growing family, safe. Megumi agrees and of course you come with him. Not like you hadn’t gone with him a few times before, it just was never for a gathering of all three clans.

Without even thought you didn’t think about Noritoshi or anything. Until you’re heading to another meeting with Megumi and that’s when you see him. Noritoshi is kissing that still unknown woman’s cheek and offering the little girls hand he was holding to her. Clearly this is what he left you for. 

Out of the corner of his eye and after dismissing his wife and child, Noritoshi sees you and Megumi. It honestly catches him by surprise. While you might have been having snippets here and there about his life (via Mai and Todo of course) Noritoshi has no idea where you went or what you’ve done or anything (it was a collective agreement even though they respected their friend, none of them (Mai included) felt the need to tell Noritoshi about you when they saw you bc he didn’t deserve it) But he’s seeing you for the first time in 5+ years and he’s honestly stunned. 

There’s a moment where he wants to smile and grab you into his arms and press his lips to the side of your head like he always did. But then he sees Megumi’s arm around your back. The way you both walk so close together and the darkened look Megumi adopts the second Noritoshi’s eyes land on you. Of course Megumi is low confrontational so when you stop in front of Noritoshi, he simply kisses your forehead and leaves a lingering touch on your stomach before telling you he’ll be inside waiting for you. 

So many things could be said. And so many of them need to be said. Both of you look tired. Noritoshi with an underlying tiredness he hasn’t shaken since the day of his own wedding. Everything just compounding on itself when he sees you. Not really even registering Megumi or where you’ve both happened to meet or anything. All he sees is you and everything claws at his throat at once.

None of the things he wants to say make it up to his lips. Noritoshi tips his head down and says some half ass remark about seeing your well. He means it but just like that nothing can be undone. He sees you grip tighten into white knuckled fists and if he got hit right there he’d accept it. And honestly beg for your forgiveness. But it never comes. He sees your grip loosen and hands relax. Almost like its more of a punch to the gut when you won’t react to him.

You simply tell him hello and that his child seemed very well mannered as was his wife. “They seem nice.” That was it. It hurt in every fiber of his being. You excuse yourself past him to go sit with Megumi finally. Only the fleeting familiar scent of your hair, your clothes, you? Something. But Noritoshi remembers it. Painfully so. A smell he loved from day one. And now he was reminded how actual love felt.

It’s for nothing though. When he comes into the room to search for you. Everything in Noriotoshi tightens. You’re seated with Megumi that’s for sure. But it’s what he sees that cracks him into a million pieces.

Megumi’s lips near your ear, he’s whispering something to you and you’re....you’re smiling. Noriotoshi feels his heart in his throat like he’s ready to throw up. Megumi moves to kiss the side of your head and Noritoshi sees his hand come up and touch your stomach like he had before. It dawns on him what that must mean.

Noritoshi is forced to take a seat across from the Zenin family. In which you are seated with, something he never thought he’d see. You at a meeting with the clans. Megumi’s touch on your thigh like he use to. But now you’re...you’re leaning into him. A tenderness he hasn’t shared with anyone in years. Love nowhere to be found in his actual marriage. He appreciates his wife and loves his kid but the heart fluttering butterflies he saw in you could never be replaced. He’s wondered if you’ve replaced him. But he gets his answer when Megumi kisses your temple and you close your eyes and lean into him. Something about the fact you closed your eyes kills Noritoshi a little on the inside. You were happy and it was without him. All because he craved to be here at the clans as the leader. Leader of the Kamo Clan. All alone. With no one to be seated with him besides his advisors. This is what he wanted. And now it’s what Noritoshi gets to live with.

[moskaisley]

migraine pt.3 | chronic

gif: @logan-solo​

rating: mature

word count: 3k

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, fluff but also ANGST, jealous!mando aka my favorite kind 

a/n: this literally took so long to write bc i basically changed the last half of this fic, but i’m rly happy with the results. there was a lot i wanted to include about life before din left, and i thought i’d put them in separate like one shots, but i figured that it would be include in the main story too. this is basically like an anime recap episode LMAO. enjoy!! thanks for the love <3

summary:

“But slowly and languidly, there was a sense of tenderness that began to bleed into the crevices of your daily lives.”

When you and the Mandalorian existed in another time, another place. 

parts 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

ao3 link / masterlist

Dreams these days never really consisted of anything new. Old memories played in your head like a holovid, both the good and the bad. Tonight, they were filled with him. 

In the beginning, the two of you never really acknowledged what it was. 

You fucked only a few more times after the cockpit. Business always came first, of course, and sex wasn’t a regular occurrence. But when the tension (often mixed with the adrenaline of bounty hunting) became too much to handle, you were all over each other. Most of the time, you were in either of each other’s bunks, and you only did it in the cockpit when you couldn’t bother to go down the ladder. At first, you chalked it up to strictly satisfying physical needs. With the two of you in such close quarters, it only made sense. The aftermath often involved getting dressed and cleaned up in silence. There would be an occasional joke or two, but the discussion usually steered itself towards the next mission. 

But slowly and languidly, there was a sense of tenderness that began to bleed into the crevices of your daily lives. Your hands would linger on each other longer. He seemed to loosen up around you, joke around and indulge you in conversation. It was such a stark contrast to his menacing, stoic warrior demeanour he used when rounding up bounties.

Once, you found yourself too distracted and flustered to even spar with him.

“At this rate, you’ll never win a match against me,” he poked, legs straddling your waist as he pinned your arms down

“Oh, shut up,” you huffed, irritated. He had won against you using the same move, twice. 

You’d never tell him, but your eyes were definitely indulging over the build of his body, imagining the way his bare muscles flexed or his lips moved against yours. 

Squirming against him, you hiss, “Off, Mando.”

He chuckles and your chest tightens. I bet his real voice sounds like heaven.

“I dunno, I think I like you like this.”

He studies you under him, helmet tilting sideways watching your chest heave up and down. A wave of heat washes over you at the thought of tearing off his mask and pulling him down for a kiss. Mando lightly laughs again and you swear you’re going to fucking lose it.

“I think you like it too.”

With all your strength, you bring your knee into the small of his back, knocking him forwards as you twist to launch him off of you. After shuffling up to stand, you spin on your heels and march away, embarrassed at how he’s got you flushed and smiling like an idiot schoolgirl. 

He’s still groaning in pain when he calls to you, “Done already?”

You stumble on a witty response, “You’re the worst!”

Smooth.

--

You weren't the only one losing their cool. Mando became a lot more defensive of you in those days; you nearly killed him once because he kept trying to cover you from blaster fire. He even started a bar fight for you. 

You hated the stares you received by virtue of being around him; traveling with him always meant that being unassuming was impossible. Normally, people would avert their eyes. If you were particularly lucky, a poor soul would try and push the Mandalorian’s buttons, not realizing they’re digging their own graves. One day, however, you’d hit the jackpot when they decided to  target you. 

You sat across from him in a booth, patiently waiting for the quarry to pass through; you took the side facing the door while he was turned away, taking advantage of the element of surprise. Out of the corner of your eye, three drunk bumbling idiots stumbled from the opposite end of the bar. Despite your stealthy gaze, one of them locked eyes with you, and when you saw his lips curl into a disgusting smile, you knew you were in for it. 

The man you saw and sauntered over to your side of the chair. His friends shuffled behind him like dogs, and he practically beamed when he saw Mando, seemingly nonchalant.

“My my, Mando! You’ve got quite the catch here,” he says, undressing you with his eyes, “Where’d he buy a thing like you, baby?”

Are you fucking serious?

You cocked an eyebrow and shot him a glare in response, but remained quiet. You turn back to your view on the door, praying to Maker that he’d leave you alone. But the man didn’t let up.

Instead, he turns to your partner inquiring,

“How good of a lay is she, huh, Mandalorian? Bet she’d be a real treat for me and my boys” his men move a little closer to corner you both, “How much to take her off your hands?”

Can a girl just exist?

“I’m not for sale,” you snarl, voice tight. A dull pain begins to echo in your temples.

“So she speaks,” Your irritation only seemed to egg him on, “C'mon darlin’ let us take care of you. I promise I’m good for it.”

Your fingers were itching towards your blades, but you were still waiting on the quarry to enter the cantina. A scene would scare him away and you would lose your money and time.

Business comes first. 

At least, that’s what you thought.

Mando’s voice cut through your exchange, “Get lost, she said she’s not interested.”

“Now, that’s not what we heard, was it boys?” His men laugh in agreement behind him. His eyes turn dark as he goes to place a hand on your shoulder, “The lady can speak for herself. I think we can negotia-”

A blaster shot whizzes by your ears before you can even think to fight back against him. Mando, ever the gunslinger, shoots again towards his leg, knocking him onto the floor.

And then the whole bar descends into chaos. 

Drunkards pile on top of each other as tensions crescendo; the sound of a single shot has everybody up in arms. Your migraine only grows in intensity as the situation spirals out of control. To top it off, amidst the chaos, you see the quarry a few paces away. His eyes were wide watching the shitshow before him, and in a panic, he scurried back out the door.

You’d caught him eventually, but not without traversing the entire underground marketplace that stretched under the city. By the time he was in carbonite and you were both in the cockpit, your irritation boiled over.

“Are you insane, Din?” You fumed, “When did you get so careless? We nearly lost him!”

He simply looked at you as if you knew the answer, but his silence only fueled your exasperation.

“Fine, don’t talk to me,” you grumbled, throwing your hands in the air, “I’ll be in the refresher.”

You turned to leave, but his gloved hand suddenly gripped your upper arm, spinning you into his chest. It was then that you realized how much bigger he was, dwarfing you in his arms as he rubbed the space above your elbows. 

“He was gonna touch you,” Mando’s voice was low, bordering on a growl.

Oh. The air in the room shifts dramatically.

You take a shaky breath, your voice quieting down to a whisper, “And if he did?”

The gloved hands on your arms squeeze like a vice grip. Your heart swells.

“He’d have a hole in his head.”

Your expression softens before your lips spread into a sly smile. You move as close as you can, eyes boring into the black space of his visor.

“Tell me something,” you swallow hard as you gingerly move his hands to your waist and trace your fingertips over his breastplate. Mando’s breathing is ragged through his vocoder, and you relish in his excitement. You bat your eyelashes a few times before peering up at him.

“How good of a lay am I, Mandalorian?”

His fingers dig deeper into your sides before pulling you even closer, erection already stiffening against you. He groans out a response, “Let’s find out.”

--

There were little things that warmed your heart, too. When you were stuck in your bunk with a migraine, he never let you get up to do anything by yourself. He brought you water and food and he took extra care in opening the door so no light was let in and he wasn’t too loud. When you could tell he was dozing off in hyperspace, you forced him to go to bed. If he was particularly stubborn, you shoved him into the co-pilot’s chair and covered him with a blanket. Sometimes, if you came across a market with a few extra credits, you’d cook him a real meal, leagues better than the shitty ration packs you normally partook in. 

And then, there was the first time he kissed you.

You were strolling through a bazaar before a job when you stopped at a produce stand, excitedly picking up a fuzzy white peach from the box.

“I haven’t eaten one of these since I was a teenager,” you say, bringing up it to your nose and sniffing, “They smell amazing. We should get some later.”

Much to your chagrin, the job went south that day. You were so frustrated and angry that you’d completely forgotten about it, caked in mud and grime demanding to go straight back to the Razor Crest.

Holed up in your bunk and fresh out the shower, you were clad in only a long sleeve shirt and underwear when you heard him knock. When you opened the door, you were surprised to see  the fiercest hunter in the parsec standing before you with a plate of peaches from the market, sliced neatly into little wedges.  

Mando sat with you on your bed as he watched you eat; you told him about how the fruit used to grow on trees in your family’s orchard in the summer. Though you acted like you were sick of them, you always ate it when you were upset. You smiled at the memory of your adolescence, silently cutting up the fruit into wedges and eating them outside during dawn, right after your first break up with some boy.

You were so caught up in the memory that you nearly jumped when Mando leaned in and took your chin in his right hand. His finger traced over the side of your lips, and your heart raced in your chest. 

“Sorry, it’s just,” he uttered, “It was going to drip on your chin.”

You would’ve thought he’d lit your body on fire. Your core ached and you suddenly couldn’t breathe. When he began to pull back, it felt like instinct to grab his wrist and keep his hand near your face. You leaned into his touch, pressing a chaste kiss to his thumb. 

You began to crawl across your bunk to him when he stopped you, “Wait.”

Mando stood, and closed the door and shut the lights off. Darkness enveloped you both, and you called out to him, “Din?” His voice cut through the inky dark, “Can you see anything?”

You hear him shuffle, as he stands in front of you, “I dunno, can I?”

“Y/N,” he urged, impatient.

“No, Din. I can’t see.”

And then you hear the air hiss, and metal clanging to the floor. Realization hit like a meteor crash.

He took it off.

You panic immediately.

“Din, wait! What are you doi-”

You shut up the instant his hands cup your face and his lips are on yours.

And it felt delightful, better than any kiss you’d ever had. Your eyes flutter shut as you deepen the kiss. Your arms go to wrap around his neck, and you pull him even closer, elated at the way his soft hair feels in between your fingers. You were sure that he could taste the sweet, tangy peach on your tongue. When he pulls away for air, your face feels flushed with heat and you could feel your swollen lips.

You’re in a daze, “You kissed me.”

He laughs and you hear it. His real voice. No distortion. No modulator. 

“I did.”

He does sound like an angel.

“Do it again.”

--

When it all broke apart, it wasn’t like the steady, dawdling way you fell in love. The break was quick and it stung worse than any migraine. 

“What do you think?”

You walked around the cockpit, tracing your fingers over the controls. “Why? You thinking of an upgrade?” You shoot Mando a smile. He doesn’t seem amused, “It’s nice, I guess. Smaller, though. We already have a tough time fitting together in the Razor Crest.”

You’d been on Nevarro for a few days, having finally finished your last job. Instead of going back to the Crest, however, Mando took you to a shipyard and aboard an empty cruiser. The Slipstream’s windows were big and were much cleaner, but space was still an issue even if you and Din didn’t carry much.

You turn to him expecting a response, but he only says, “Let’s go.”

“Wait, Mando,” you reach for his shoulder, “What is this about? I don’t understand. Why are we here?”

He doesn’t stop to answer, “I said, let’s go.”

You let out a huff as you followed him out of the cockpit. Ever since you landed, Mando’s behavior had flipped like a switch. Your friendly talks had been reduced to one-sided exchanges. He’d been ignoring you, cold like the beskar he donned on his back. 

“Mando!”

He kept walking down the loading ramp. His terrible attitude had made your blood simmer for a while, and now it was all boiling over. 

You stomp forwards, stopping at the entrance to the hull and shout. 

“Din, stop!”

And he does, but he doesn’t turn around.

You’re fuming, “What is your problem? You’ve been in a shitty mood ever since we got here and frankly I-” You’re interrupted by something flying towards you, instinct having you catch in your hands. It’s a small silver device. Code sets, for what could only be the ship you’re currently standing on.

The dots begin to chaotically connect in your head, “What the hell is this?”

“It’s the -”

“No, Din. I know what this fucking thing is,” You’re seething with panic and rage as you hold up the silver box, “I mean, what are you doing?”

He only stares up at you, the mask emotionless and frigid. The reality of the situation was crashing into you like waves; you were begging to any god that this was just a fucked up nightmare. Tears were stinging in your eyes, threatening to pool and pour over. 

You hated how your voice cracked, “Answer me!”

“I’m leaving you, Y/N.”

Fuck. Hearing him say it out loud made your gut wrench. 

You made an audible sob; you couldn’t control it. Shuffling to the bottom of the ramp, you’re desperate to try and connect to him, bring him back to you. The questions spill from your lips.

“Why? What did I even do? What’s wrong?” You bring your hands up, cupping the sides of his helmet. You whisper through your cries, “Din, please.”

You know. You feel it in your bones. You know he feels it too. 

He gently holds your wrists, “We can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t we talk about this?” You plead, “I know something’s wrong, you gotta let me in.”

“Y/N, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” he chides, pulling your hands away from his helmet. Your heart feels like it’s in freefall when he turns around to continue walking.

You try to scramble forward to pull him back but to your horror, you’re met with the barrel of a blaster. The noise that roars through your ears sounds like shattering glass. You gape at him, a mixture of shock and disbelief contorting your features. The figure that stood before you was unrecognizable. Because it wasn’t Din, the soft lover who kissed you in the dark and traced words of Mando’a into your sternum. It wasn’t even Mando, the old snarky friend who joked at how bad of a shot you were and who laughs like a complete idiot when he had one too many sips.

It was the Mandalorian, the ruthless and deadly warrior poised and ready to fire you away.

--

You wake up smelling peaches and blaster smoke.

Shifting to sit up against the wall behind you, you groan at the dull ache in your head and heart. Mando is here with you at the foot of the bed; you’ve memorized the way the bunk feels with or without him. 

“Why are the lights off?” You ask.

“I didn’t know if you were going to wake up with a headache or not.”

Of fucking course. It drives you insane how considerate he is sometimes.

You suddenly become more alert as you remember, “Aayn’vida, where is she? Is she safe?”

He quells your anxiety immediately, “She’s safe. I took her to her family.”

“And Khan?”

“Cold.”

You feel him shove pills and a bottle of water into your hands. You took them, and as you both waited for the pain in your head to subside, he told you what happened in Jaemai. As it turns out, Aayn’vida’s mother was a doctor for many years, and she was kind enough to check on you and care for your wounds. Khan’s goon nicked your right side; no major organs were hit, but your skin was likely scarred since it was basically singed off. There was another thing, however. Mando had asked her about the constant migraines,  “She said that they can happen because of stress or trauma.”

You laughed bitterly, “Well, we both know I have plenty of that.”

Silence blankets you two again. Even in the dark, you can tell when the Mandalorian is uneasy. You wait for him to confess.

“If I’d known this would’ve happened, I would’ve never asked you to come with me,” he lets out a tired sigh, “I’m sorry.”

You roll your eyes. Why is he so fucking nice?

“We’ve been through worse,” you say, a familiar feeling fluttering through your chest, 

“Besides, this just means I’ve rightfully earned my 80%”

[craby-bouquet]

Monsta X-Wonho : 81 + 92

Bonus: 82 bc i read it wrong xoxo

Shin Hoseok x reader

Fluff

887 words

masterlist | warm winter masterlist | warm winter prompts

requested by @danielleonpointe​ ❤️

81 “Don’t be so gentle. You can hug me tighter y'know- I’m not going to pop or anything.” 92 “A: *hugs B* tighter or looser? ~B: I feel like I’m being constructed by a snake ~ A: *loosens grip* ~ B: I didn’t say let go

It was snowing outside, painting the streets beautifully white. You looked at the children, running around in their cute little outfits. Throwing snowballs at one another, building snowmen. Everyone was dressed warmly, hats on their head, covering their ears, warm scarfs and thick coats. 

You envied all the couples whom were walking hand in hand, they made you think of him, Wonho. 

That wasn’t a bad thing, of course. Wonho was your best friend, nobody minds thinking about their best friend. You just wished he would walk hand in hand with you. 

Yes, you had a crush on him, you probably had had a crush on him for forever, you just never really realised you did, too busy with other guys. Until a few months ago, he smiled at you in a way that just made you swoon. The butterflies fluttering in your stomach, even thinking about him like that, were going insane. 

You quickly turned your head away from the window to force those thoughts out of your head. You couldn’t be in love with him, he was your friend, you couldn’t risk that relationship to fall apart.

The knock on your door made you jump up. You knew it was his plan to come by today, but snapping you out of your thoughts like that surprised you anyway.

“It’s open, come in.” you said, as you stroke your hair to look nicer. 

Wonho came in, holding two bags from you favorite fast food restaurant above his head “I brought food!”

You laughed and took one of the bags over from him “That’s great!” 

You placed the bags on the kitchen counter and got two plates. A little later the both of you were eating together. 

“How was your day so far?” he asked with his mouth full.

You shrugged “Better, now that you’re here.” 

He raised his eyebrows playfully seductive “I make everything better.” 

You laughed, and bend over to hit him.

“Wasn’t your day good before I came then?” 

You shrugged “It was alright, I guess. I’ve just been dreaming away at the window, looking at everyone having fun.” 

He frowned “Did you have fun, watching other people have fun?”

You shrugged again, slower this time, pricking your fork in your food without eating it.

Wonho shook his head, and placed his hand gently over yours “Don’t do that then.”

“But all those couples just seem so cute… It makes me believe those sappy rom com moments do happen in real life sometimes.”

 “So you’re telling me that you’ve never had a romcom moment?” he asked, disbelieve clear in his voice.

You shook your head.

“Well I’m going to make that my personal mission to make sure you’re going to have at least one tonight"

That took you by surprise. You hadn’t expected anything like that today. You took another bite from your food, hoping he wouldn’t notice your blush. You didn’t need a rom com moment, spending this time with him, was already enough.

After you both finished eating, he threw your coat at you “Come on, let’s go outside and enjoy the fresh air.” 

As soon as you stepped food outside, a snowball hit your face. You heard Wonho laughing sadistically “Gotcha!”

You laughed too, and threw a snowball back, it missed him, but only because he jumped face forward into the cold snow on the ground. 

As you snowball fight continued, the children, that you had been looking at before, joined in and soon enough the whole street joined in this massive snowball fight. You felt happy, happier than you had felt all winter long. You couldn’t believe this, it seemed like this was part of your own movie. And the big smile on Wonho’s face, made everything even more perfect.

After about an hour of getting hit by snowball after snowball, Wonho and you went back inside. Cold, wet and filled with a warm feeling in your chest, you started to make hot chocolate milk for the both of you as Wonho jumped into the shower real quick to warm himself up. He was lucky he left some clothes of him here a while back, mainly so you could do laundry, because that meant he had new clean clothes. 

As he walked back out and noticed you in the kitchen, he wrapped his big arms tightly around you. Your heart started beating so fast and loud you were sure he could hear it. He laid his head on yours and rubbed your arms with his hands.

“What are you doing?” you managed to ask with a pretty steady voice.

“Keeping you warm.” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, he stopped rubbing, and just hugged you now.

“Don’t be so gentle. You can hug me tighter y'know- I’m not going to pop or anything.”

He laughed, and tightened his grip “Tighter or looser?”

You chuckled “I feel like I’m being constructed by a snake.”

He loosened his grip, you frowned and hesitated. But you turned around so you could completely be absorbed by his warmth.

“I didn’t say let go.” 

You stood there, in his arms, warm, loved. You heard his heartbeat through his chest, felt his arms tightly around you, and you were warm. He kept you warm on this cold winter's day.

masterlist | warm winter masterlist | warm winter prompts

[sourbkg]

obey

yandere!villian!shinsou hitoshi x reader

———im taking the initiative to write this one from the prompt list bc i like it and none of you can stop me———

It was supposed to be an easy mission. Get in, get the evidence your team needed to frame the man, get out. Simple. You’d done this countless times before and never had a problem. Why, why now was there a problem.

The extraction itself was going fine. Your partner stayed by your side as the party you attended commenced. Lay low and get the layout of the mansion. That was your goal. The man beside you was grumbling under his breath about how he hated parties and would rather be apart of a different team. His elbow was locked with yours and you walked around like you were a couple, not two agents in enemy territory. You only squeezed his arm more towards you when his complaining became a little to prominent on his features.

“Not having a good time?” A voice dull voice asked from behind you. You stilled, your partner doing the same. You knew that voice, he did to. It was—

“Shinsou Hitoshi.” He stepped in front of the two of you, hand held out to shake your own.

“Kato Hinata.” Your partner responded, offering his own hand to the lavender haired male. “A pleasure.”

He shook it, tired eyes soon finding your own, “And you are?”

“(L/N) (F/N).” You replied quietly, not looking him in the eyes as you spoke. He took your hand and kissed your knuckles, a small smile creeping from the corners of his lips after you pulled your hand back.

“A cute name to go along with a cute face.” He watched you shift your weight, Kato drawing you closer to his side. He looked to your partner, “Why don’t you go get us some drinks?”

It wasn’t really a suggestion, more of a command. Kato hated being told what to do.

“I don’t think I-“

It was over from there. His eyes dulled and his posture straighted, grip on your arm almost too tight to be comfortable.

“Go away.” Shinsou said, eyes narrowing slightly. Kato let go of you completely before turning on his heel and walking away without a second glance.

You were alone with the enemy.

“He didn’t look to be having a good time anyways.” Shinsou took a step towards you, tilting your head up to look at him with his pointer finger, “and frankly, I’ve grown bored of my own party. Whaddya say we get out of here?”

There was a crash before you could respond. Both of your heads whipped towards the sound. Kato and a couple other members of your team were causing quite the ruckus. You needed to get out of there and fast. Anyone that wasn’t from your group of Shinsou’s henchmen fled or hid.

You grabbed Shinsou’s wrist before he had a chance to react and twisted it behind his back, kicking him behind the knee and holding his arm there. Your team could deal with his underlings but if he got to them it would be over. All you had to do was hold him for a second—

He threw his head back, hitting you square in the nose. You groaned, grip loosening and he took to chance to swipe your legs out from under you, ripping his arm from your grip in the process.

“I’m impressed.” He all but growled under his breath, “you and your friends snuck in undetected—“ he paused when you threw a punch at him, hitting him in the jaw. He laughed and spit bloody saliva onto the granite floors. “A shame, really. I thought we had something.”

Kato’s quirk activated suddenly and your body started to disappear. Shinsou’s eyes widened, trying to reach out to grab you but it was too late. You were gone.

————

Three months later and you still didn’t have what you needed to frame him. Despite misuse of his quirk at the party (on your partner, no less) and the evidence you had against him, it wasn’t enough. You’d been working nonstop on the case, often coming home late and getting a minimum amount of sleep only to get up early the next morning and do it again. Kato was no better, grumpy at all times and only momentarily happy when lunch time came around.

It was another late night, getting home just after 12. Something felt... off in your apartment when you walked in, but you couldn’t even question it because a second after you shut the door, something hit your head and everything went black.

When you came to, you were immediatly made aware of the weight on your ankle. The bed under you creaked as you threw the covers off to show a chain keeping you to the bed. You stood, testing how easily you could stand despite the killer headache you had, and testing to see how far the anklet would let you walk.

It just barely allowed you to make it to the door of the room. When you reached for the handle, it swung open to reveal the tired man you’d been trying to put in jail. You took a step back.

“Oh, glad to see you’re awake.” He said, eyeing you as you created more distance between the two of you. “I’m sorry for the... surprise attack. They weren’t supposed to hit you. It won’t happen again.” He reached a hand out to touch your face, but you jerked back to glare at him.

“Let me go.” You growled, eyes narrowed to slits.

He laughed, “I’ve only just gotten you! And you want me to let you leave so soon?”

“What the hell is wrong with you.” You slapped his hand away as he reached to touch your face again.

He laughed again, though this time it was humorless. “Come on, kitten. No need to keep up the act. You’re with me now, not those idiots at your agency.”

He reached up to cup your cheeks, moving to bring his face closer to your own. In a panic, you slapped him in the face. Hard. The sound resonated within the room, his head stayed turned to the side for a second as he processed what you’d just done. He let out a small chuckle, touching his cheek.

“I’ll give you five seconds to apologize.” He said simply, purple eyes finding yours, “five seconds to tell me sorry and that you only did it because you’re nervous. One.”

“Fuck you.” You hissed, taking a step away from him. He took a step forward.

“Two.” He continued.

You took another step back, he took another forward. “Three.”

Another back, another forward.

“Four.”

“You’re fucking delusional.”

Your back hit the wall. His hand slammed against it beside your head.

“Five.”

He laughed a little. “I was hoping you would be a little more compliant.”

“Like hell I would—“

You felt yourself go rigid, unable to move. You could still hear and see but nothing was in your control. He tipped your head up to make you look at him.

“Get on your knees and shut up.” He growled, and you dropped to the floor, lips tight against each other. He kneeled beside you.

“I could make you do so many... unsavory things, but I’m not that kind of person.” He used one hand to run his fingers through your hair. “But I’m not above using my quirk to make you obey me.” His grip on your hair tightened, using it to tilt your chin up to the roof. You felt the pain but couldn’t make a sound.

“We’re going to try this again. You’re going to apologize. Got it?” He paused, grip on your hair loosened before you had the ability to move again. You gasped for air– whether from the pain or from the anxiety, you didn’t know.

“Do you have anything to say to me, kitten?” He asked, the hand in your hair tightening ever slightly when you stayed quiet for too long.

“I’m sorry.” You choked out, leaning back against the wall to get away from him. He only leaned forward into your space.

“Sorry for what?” He mockingly tilted his head to the side.

“I’m sorry for–for hitting you. I was scared and I’m sorry.” You managed, eyes screwing shut.

The hand in your hair left completely and he hummed, “Good. Don’t let it happen again.” And with that, he stood. “I’ll be back with some food, I’m sure your hungry.”

And then he left you alone.

[rogue-barnes-16]

THIS IS ME

Summary: Natasha preferred to keep her sexuality, just like all her private life, in secret. She wasn't planning on coming out to the world, but a sudden event makes her change her mind about it.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

Natasha Romanoff: @5aftermidnight

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @1a-girl-has-no-name1 @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver

Warnings: injuries, mentions of violence, language

A/N: here's another Natasha oneshot inspired in this version of the song This Is Me, just bc I'm enjoying writing about her. A Carol fic + the requests coming to you soon. If you wanna be added to any of the taglists, send an ask <3.

NATASHA'S P. O. V.

I had never been a fan of sharing parts of my intimate life with the world, and that, of course, included my sexual orientation.

The people saw strictly what I wanted them to see, and that comforted me because I liked to be in control.

There was already too much information of my past of skilled assassin and spy turned into an Avenger for which I was being criticized, therefore, there was no need to add to that awful mix the fact that I liked girls.

Y/n was okay with my decision.

We approached the topic countless times for lots of different situations, and her reply to my shilly-shallying was always the same.

"You don't need to prove anything to anyone. If you're not ready, then you shouldn't do it."

She was my angel. I loved her and she loved me, and I knew that, sooner rather than later, I would be ready to open up about it thanks to her.

However, when earlier in the day she asked me if I wanted to join her and her friends in a demonstration against Anti-LGBT brutality, I declined the offer.

She gave me an understanding smile before pecking my lips and leaving my apartment in the highest floor of the Avengers Tower.

She told me she would be back most likely before dinner, so I kept myself busy by filling the last missions' reports.

When I finished, I started to read a book, and when my eyes threatened to close, I left the book aside to lie down in my side of the bed, not even taking a peek at my phone clock, which would have informed me that it was way past dinner time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Something woke me up, but rather than a sound, it was a gut feeling.

I turned around to check the time, and I realized Y/n was still not there. Where was she? I thought, already unlocking my phone to call my girlfriend.

Missed call, she wouldn't pick it up.

Natasha: where are you????

No reply, of course.

Right when I reached for my jeans to go out and look for her, I heard whispers on the hall right outside my door.

"Hey why are you... What the hell happened to you?" It was Tony's voice.

"Nothing, I'm fine." Y/n's dismissive reply to the billionaire's question made me rush to the door.

READER'S P. O. V.

"That doesn't look fine." Tony spoke in a whisper, motioning at my face. "that doesn't look fine at all."

"looks that bad?" he pursed his lips in a thin line, shamelessly avoiding giving me an answer to my question. "fuck."

I ran my hands through my hair, staring at the door hesitant. Was it a good idea to enter Natasha's apartment looking like that?

"Why don't you come with me and we'll try to fix it a little bit?" he suggested as if he had just read my mind.

I was about to accept his solution to my problem when the door flung open. "fix what?"

"Nat—"

Even in the darkness of the hall, with only the dim light of Natasha's nightstand lamp allowing us to see, I could appreciate how the color vanished from her confused gaze, making it livid.

"Why... what— why is your face bruised?"

NATASHA'S P. O. V.

"I-"

"Get inside."

I heard Y/n wishing Tony goodnight before following me into the apartment and closing the door afterwards. "It's not a big deal, calm down."

"Your nose is broken." I fumed, stalking out of the small living room in the bathroom's direction to grab some things from what was left from my first aid kid after the last mission. "you got a black eye and a cut lip."

"I said. It's. not. a big deal, Natasha."

I stopped mid-way at her words. "What, and I cannot stress this enough, the fuck" she sighed loudly, running both hands through her hair. "Someone beat my girlfriend the fuck up, I think it is a big deal."

"Natasha, for fucks sake! Just DROP IT!"

I went completely still.

Y/n rarely yelled at me. If we argued, she always tried her best to stay cool, and even if she couldn't achieve that, she never lost it like she had just done.

We stayed in the exact same position for a split second before Y/n broke down to tears, falling sat over the bed.

I sat besides her and, without saying a word I took care of her bruises. "There was this group of people that came to us yelling things." I stayed silent, giving her the time she needed. "before I knew it, they were throwing hands at a couple of boys." I let out a sigh, not really wanting to hear the rest of the story. "Everyone froze, and- ugh!"

"Sorry baby." I whispered, finishing cleaning her wound.

"Listen, things were getting really ugly, and I-"

"Stood up for them." I finished, pulling a couple of strands of hair behind her ear right before pecking her cheek.

"Had to drive one of the boys to ER." she sniffed, her nose and eyes red as she clenched and loosened repeatedly the fist whose knuckles were bloody. "They did him so fucking bad."

Her voice cracking worked as a cue for me to pull her to my chest. "I'm sorry." I whispered, realizing a couple of tears were running down my cheeks, too. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, it's not like it's your fault babe." she replied, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me to the bed with her. "I just wanna sleep."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I came out of the shower after my sparring session, I saw Y/n getting dressed, probably to go to another demonstration.

"Oh! Hey babe." she gave me a half smile, not wanting to open the cut on her lip accidentally. "I'll come back soon, I promise."

I stood there, drying my hair with a towel, thinking through the words that were about to leave my mouth. "can I borrow some of your clothes and... go with you?"

There was a brief instant in which surprise passed through her beautiful eyes before another smile tugged the corners of her lips. "Sure thing. We'll leave when you're ready."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You alright?" Y/n questioned as we dived with held hands into the mass of people demonstrating in the streets, the same people that as soon as their eyes landed on me, wouldn't stop looking.

"actually yeah." I genuinely replied, squeezing her hands with the ghost of a satisfied smile on my face. "I'm alright."

"Lovely." I tugged Y/n's hand and, when she spun around, I put my hands on her hips, bringing her into a kiss. "that was lovely too." she stated with a giggle, her hands traveling past my neck for her to intertwin her fingers behind me, pulling me closer to kiss my lips.

There's no need to say that a few people took pictures of me and Y/n, which would be soon traveling through the Internet.

But I couldn't care less.

"From now on, we're in this together." I stated tucking her hair behind her ears. "and this" I traced the bruises on her face that were slowly starting to fade. "won't happen again."

"Babe, you never got to see the other guys."

A grin showed up on my face as I turned around, tugging her hand for her to follow me. "Oh, I'm sure he's way worse."

[legitlaur]

One Kiss

Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: First time writing in like 2 months and awkwardness

Summary: Bc of endgame I feel like we need some good old everyone lives at the tower and everyone is happy fluff. so that’s basically what this is. You have a major crush on Steve and he orders you a burrito lol

Background: You were a hacker, so talented it took SHIELD 20 hours to realize their system had been infiltrated. Agent Hill told Fury that you could be a real asset. During the fight against Ultron you were able to track most if not all the robots, you informed the team when they had successfully wiped out all the Ultrons. Currently, you find mercenaries and anything that enters the Earth’s atmosphere. Generally, you gather a strike team and lead the mission through coms, while Steve leads on the ground.

You were working in the kitchen, hoping that someone would come in and make some dinner you could steal. You were able to hack secret government agencies but not able to make anything beyond microwavable ramen.

You moved into the tower with the Avengers, now that SHIELD was gone. And you needed the second best satellites and wifi. You changed the entire mainframe of Tony's system to connect your laptop to his satellites. Once you were in, you could hack into nearly anything.

As of right now, you were keeping an eye out on any remaining HYDRA agents. Steve and Nat were hoping to build up a new SHIELD but not until all of HYDRA was gone. With Furys Project Insight it could’ve been done in the click of a button. Steve, however, deleted all of the software. You’ve managed to steal a glimpse at the algorithm before it was lost forever. You repurposed it and waited for notifications on facial recognition.

You pulled your hood over the back of your head and popped in an earbud. Out of boredom, you checked the security of the tower. If you were able to hack it when you were just a kid, whos to say one of Peter Parker's genius friends, or someone not so nice couldn’t do the same.

You worked on some new code and made a quick call to Tony asking for permission to make some changes. He as always was looking forward to your improvements. Just as you were getting into your groove, you saw Steve walk into the kitchen. You pulled the strings of your hoodie so your face was more concealed. It was hard being around someone so perfect, just one look at him made anyone self-conscious.

“Y/n? What are you doing?” He asked.

Even his voice made it difficult for you to speak, “Umm. I found a few flaws in our security so I’m just fixing it.”

Steve opened the fridge, “Tony's got some competition,” He noticed the scared look on your face, “That was a compliment. It's good for him to be kicked off his imaginary throne.”

You smiled, “Thanks?”

“There's never any food in this place,” He slammed the fridge shut.

You loosened your hood and took out your earbuds. Quietly you informed him why “I may have gone through the food supply and threw out anything that was expired. Also, Thor was here a few  days ago, I’m pretty sure he eats like five times our calorie intake.”

Steve sat down next to you, “Well at least someone's cleaning up around here. Wanna order in?”

Your heart was thumping, “No Chinese. Every time the kid is here we order Chinese. I don’t think I can eat another dumpling ever.”

He picked up the phone, “You like burritos right.”

You nodded, somehow the freezer was always stocked full of microwave burritos. You would eat them when you're stressed. Which was quite often.

You moved your hair behind your ear, “You, you notice that?”

Steve laughed, it made the butterflies in your stomach flap around frantically, “Of course. It’s hard not to notice you-” “What?” Your face burned.

He ran his hands through his gelled hair, “Your always wearing headphones and so zoned into your work you don’t notice anything. One time Sam and Bucky had a full-on brawl, they even broke the table. You didn’t look off your screen. When you work your so concentrated that nothing could break your attention.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Luckily he continued.

“That’s why you’re so easy to notice because crazy stuff happens around here. They watch the crazy stuff, then turn to you and see if you react,” he chuckled, “Barton and Bucky have a continuing bet going. Every time you don’t react Clint pays a dollar.  I think since you moved in Buck has inherited $200.”

“You’re joking.”

He fixed his posture, “I never joke. I’m Captain America.”

You punched his shoulder, “Seriously though.”

“It’s all true,” he saluted, “scouts honor.”

Before you knew it, you were having dinner with Steve Rogers. Heck, you were flirting with him.

“I’m glad you live here. It’s nice having someone who’s not crazy around. Keeping some of the egotistical people where they truly belong.”

Your face went a brighter red, “Wow,” you weren’t sure how to respond to that, “But if I'm gonna be honest I’m pretty crazy.”

You were crazy, crazy in love with Steve Rogers.

He smiled, the butterflies in your stomach fluttered their wings faster. You stuffed a mouthful of burrito in your mouth trying to not make things so awkward. He continued talking and you thanked anyone above for that.

Wiping the remaining crumbs from his face Steve stood up, “So do you wanna go to the lounge or do you need to finish proving to Tony your better than him again?”

You shut your laptop, “Lounge, I already finished the security system.” This was a lie, you just wanted to sit by Steve in a dark room.

Your shoulders continually brushed against each other as you walked. The hallway seemed notable more narrow than the other thousands of times you’d walked through them. Even when you were Bucky, who if it's even possible might be broader than Steve, was able to walk next to you in this hall. You picked up the pace, feeling the awkward tension increase. Steve pressed the elevator button when the door opened Natasha was in leaning against the wall.

“Where are you two heading,” She asked.

Steve let you go in first, then answered, “The lounge.” Nat pressed 3 for you guys. The tension had been lifted, you planned to thank her later. She was talking and joking around with you guys. Steve seemed to be lightening up even more. His posture wasn’t as stiff and his arms hung at his sides rather than crossed against his chest.

The lounge consisted of the comfiest couch’s money could buy, blankets everywhere and an extremely large flat screen. There was also a bar area and a few small tables. If there was a party in the facility it would be in the kitchen because of food, or the lounge.

Tony and Bruce were sitting on the couch watching the Discovery Channel. You sat down at the bar, hoping Steve would catch the hint. You’re stomach knotted as you waited for him to sit. He said hi to Tony and Bruce, rather than sitting next to you he went behind the bar.

“What can I get you?” He flirted, or at least you thought he was flirting.

Gushing with embarrassment you answered, “Old Fashion”

Steve looked surprised.

“What kinda drink did you expect from me?” you asked quite offended.

He pulled out a glass, “Well I definitely didn’t take you for an Old Fashion, I'll be honest I was thinking you were more of a straight tequila person.”

You sat up eating up his opinions of you, “Those are only for breakups and really stressful times actually.”

He nodded, seeming to make a mental note while making your drink.

You got extremely drunk, to the point where Bruce and Tony had to leave in order to feel sane.

Steve was sitting next to you laughing and talking and drinking. You finished another drink and asked him in a slurred way“How much for the drinks bartender?”

Without missing a beat Steve answered, “One kiss.”

Even being drunk this shocked you. You pinched yourself, this could easily be another one of your Steve Rogers fantasy dreams. But it wasn't, it was real. You watched him move his chair closer and felt him gently put his hand on your waist.

This was it your moment. You were going to kiss Steve Rogers. Both of you leaned it, you went for the right and when your lips met symphonies went off in your head. This was more than just a kiss. This was the build-up of all the sexual tension and lust for one another pushed into one moment.

One kiss.

You ran your hands up and down his button-up shirt. His hand held your face close, while the other pulled on your hair. You stood up, he followed. This quickly became unconventional because of the height difference. Steve lifted you against the wall. You wrapped your arms around his waist for support. You violently began unbuttoning his shirt. Finally, it was off, you stared in awe. You’d seen this angelic man shirtless before, but never in this state. His lips left yours, only to find them going down your neck.

“Pay up.” A voice called.

Steve let go of you instantaneous. You both turned to the voice, Bucky and Sam were standing in the doorway.

“That wasn’t what it looked like,” Steve began to explain.

You were devastated. Had that been nothing more than a kiss to him? Nothing but filling a void? Were you just an object to him, a toy to be played with?

“What was it then Steve?” You shouted and stormed out.

After no one could see you, the tears came through and you burst into a run. No one could see you in this state. The elevator ride seemed the longest, you prayed no one would join you. Once you got to your floor unseen you ran to the safety and comfort of your room.

Where you planned to stay forever.

You laid in tearstained pillows and wrapped in a blanket trying to understand what just happened. Instead of that being the best moment of your life, it quickly escalated to one of the worst. The heartbreak, and the embarrassment. It was all too much, you wouldn’t live here anymore, you couldn’t stand to see him every day. Knowing that he was using you. You were going to tell Tony as soon as you pulled yourself together.

There was a knock at the door. This couldn’t get any worse.

You heard the door open, “y/n?” Steves warm voice called.

Your stomach tightened, it seems it could get worse, “Don’t, Steve.”

You kept your body facing the wall, “Please listen. I never meant to hurt you, I didn’t mean it like that when I said it.”

“What else could you have meant, clearly it was just a drunk kiss. It doesn’t even matter anymore,” You barked.

He sat on your bed, “Will you please just look at me. I, I’m trying to tell you something serious and I can’t because I’m staring into those beautiful y/e/c eyes.”

You tried your best to wipe away your tears. Slowly you sat up and turned to him. He was wearing his usual white tank top, his face looked stressed and his hair was a mess.

“Did you just call my eyes beautiful?”

He leaned closer to you, gingerly he cupped my cheek in his hands. Using his thumb he wiped away the rest of the tears, “Yes. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot of girls.” He winked, “I’m not sure if you’ve heard but I was alive during World War 2.”

You smacked his arm, “Calling me the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen isn’t going to help you out here. Our kiss wasn’t what it looked like remember.”

He frowned, “y/n you have no idea how much I wish I could take that back. But in a sense it was true, I honestly didn’t want that to be how anyone found out.”

“Found out what?” You interrupted.

His eyes looked away from you, “That I like you.”

Steve Rogers. Captain America liked you. How was this even possible? You were clearly dreaming.

“Slap me!”

Steve’s face looked shocked, “Excuse me?”

“Just slap me. I need to know this is real,” you explained.

Steve laughed, “y/n this is real. Can’t you see, you make me laugh. You drive me crazy.”

You were smiling so wide, “Wake me up captain,” you smoothed your voice, “one kiss.”

[blueplanettrash]

Hi! Let me start off by saying how much I love your writing, it always makes my day a little brighter whenever you post something. Also I’m not sure if you’re taking prompts or not, but I thought that you have fun with this idea. So What about Lance as a robot, an Android that’s somehow been able to have human emotions and an actual soul, maybe bc of quintessence or smth. Like what if the galra made him and he somehow ends up with the team and they find out about him. Idk it’s up to you really.

Holy fucking shit man, I love this prompt! I went with a kind of Astro Boy kind of vibe if you haven’t seen it; first of all, how? Second of all, go watch it, some parts will destroy you. I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Since he was a little kid, some things just didn’t connect at some points. He knew that he belonged in his family, he was in all the family pictures since he was a little kid, he was always treated as family by everyone that he lived with, and his parents were protective like he always remembered them being.

But sometimes, he just felt like things weren’t right.

He thought that it started after he and his family had gotten in a car accident; because he was feeling sick that day, he got in the front seat and his mom had sat in the back seat with the rest of his siblings. All he remembered from the incident was seeing a car’s headlights heading straight towards him.

When he looked up pictures of the crash after waking up later and saw that the entire front passenger side was caved in.

He was lucky to be alive. Lucky, that the only lasting damage was a coma.

After waking he found that his family would sometimes act differently around him. Shoot him strange looks when they thought he wasn’t looking. He never asked them about it, it wasn’t much of his business but he always felt like his siblings would spend more time without him than ever before.

It was the opposite for their parents though, it seemed like they were always hovering around him. They were always asking how he was feeling, if anything was off with his body after the crash but he always said no, understandably to their relief.

Being in a family of programmers, engineers, and many other extremely intelligent people, he thought that it was expected from him to shoot for the stars; quite literally in his case. They had always been supportive of his dreams, going so far as to tutor him when he had trouble, help him with his applications, and go through their connections to give him a better chance at being accepted. But suddenly, when he gotten his acceptance letter and joyfully shared the news with his family, they decided that they didn’t want him to go.

They were adamant that he wouldn’t be going to the Garrison. He wouldn’t be following his dreams anymore.

He cried and begged, pleading for any sort of explanation. Why did they not want him to be happy anymore? Why didn’t they want him to see the stars?

In the end, he snuck out to the last bus to the Garrison with only a single duffle bag filled with memories from his family. He couldn’t make it to the building before he was calling his mamá and apologizing for leaving. She screamed at him, demanding that he come back home but he could only tell her that he can’t give up on his dreams, and he wasn’t going to be going home until they could accept that.

It turns out that he never got to see if they accepted his decision or not.

He didn’t know why his family had started acting strangely around him but he didn’t often question it either. The crash was traumatizing for all of them, even if he didn’t exactly remember it.

Everything changed when they were battling the Galra, as most of their life-changing moments did. Everything had to happen with dramatic flare these days.

Being captured was high on the list of undesirable things to happen to the team. Especially when they were all together like this. They had taken Hunk and Lance first, taking the opportunity to grab Pidge while she was trying to figure out the centre’s computers. It was harder to capture Shiro and Keith but soon enough they were kneeling beside their teammates as well.

“So you are the paladins of Voltron? I have to say, I’m not very impressed,” the Galra commander smirked, his eyes drifting across their angry faces.

“Don’t underestimate us!” Keith growled, struggling against the soldier holding him. The commander let out a resounding laugh before striding forward and grabbing Lance by his hair and pulling him away from the line, to the loud disapproval of the rest of the team. He dragged him a few feet away and stood between the two groups.

“I’m giving you one chance paladins, surrender Voltron to me or I will shoot the Blue Paladin,” he threatened, pointing his gun towards Lance’s head.

“Don’t do it, guys!” Lance yelled panicked, wide eyes looking at his friends.

“Well,” the commander pushed.

“We won’t,” Shiro said sternly, trying subtly to loosen the soldier’s hold on his arms. The commander looked at him with narrowed eyes for a moment before shrugging and turning towards Lance.

“Alright,” he said calmly, his finger squeezing the trigger.

Without a sound, the laser left the muzzle of the gun, hitting Lance in the head. He slumped to the ground with an echoing thud. There wasn’t a single sound for a few moments until a horrified scream erupted from Pidge’s mouth.

They sobbed, screamed, and begged violently struggling against their guards trying to get to Lance’s side.

“Take them to the ship, we’ll see how the princess of Altea will take the news of her team’s capture and unfortunate loss,” he laughed, the soldiers nodded wrenching the distraught paladins to their feet and started dragging them towards the looming Galra warship.

“NO! LET US GO! LANCE! LAAAAANCE!” Hunk screamed, he strained towards him, only turning back in the right direction when the soldier hit him in the back of the head. Even as his vision went blurry from the hit, he looked back and his eyes widened in shock.

He was pushing himself up.

He went to shout his name with a smile but stopped when he finally got to his feet.

Half of his face was gone. Instead of the gore and blood that he expected, all he could see was gleaming metal and sparking wires.

“Lance?” He whispered, in a blink, he was behind the commander and with a single punch, he was throwing his hand straight through his back and out his chest. With a final roar from the Galra, he toppled to the ground motionless.

The rest of the soldiers’ hands dropped away from the paladins and they stared at Lance in shock. His hand slid out of the Galra’s body without a struggle. Slowly his head turned to look at the rest of the soldiers.

“Survival mode has been activated, do not engage,” his voice was distorted and emotionless, though it still clearly sounded like Lance. The metal was still sparking, and the exposed eyeball was eerily illuminating the intact part of his face. His other eye matched and, was opened wide, the normal dark blue was glowing a bright blue.

The soldiers didn’t heed his warning and one of them charged at him, gun drawn and aiming. He shot off a couple of rounds, but it didn’t phase him and instead, he stomped towards him and grabbed his throat. The soldier started struggling in pain as he started squeezing, his eye didn’t move an inch until the soldier went limp in his grasp.

He only looked away when another soldier charged at him and without warning, sliced his arm clean off letting the soldier drop to the ground unmoving. He backed away in horror when Lance only turned towards him, the new stump sparking at the same beat as his face.

It was like the soldiers were just tiny germs in his path, with only a few quick punches they were on the ground, either unconscious or dead. He looked over at the team who was still reeling in shock.

“No enemies detected,” he said before he fell to the ground, back hitting the dirt with a thud.

“Excessive damage to external and internal assets, seek immediate repairs,” he droned on, laying on his back looking up at the stars.

After Shiro was able to snap through his restraints, he went to each of them and deactivated their bindings. Together, they cautiously approached their fallen teammate.

Kneeling at his side, they carefully looked over his body and tried to figure out a way to carry him back to the Castle in his shape. He didn’t turn his head to look at them, instead, they stayed glued looking up at the night sky, filled with stars from another galaxy.

“What are you, Lance?” Pidge whispered, eyes searching his figure for any clue. At the whisper, his body seemed to shake and for the first time, the glow dimmed in his eyes, returning to the ocean blue they remembered.

“I don’t know,” was the teary reply. They went to say more but again his entire body locked up and his eyes returned to their glowing state.

“Repairs required, shutting down,” he announced before his eyes shut and his body went limp. They cast frantic looks at each other before Shiro was picking him up and they started sprinting for the Castle. As they passed the bodies of the Galra, Pidge scooped up Lance’s disembodied arm and sprinted after them.

When Lance woke up, he wasn’t exactly sure where he was or what had happened.

“Lance?” He looked over and saw Hunk standing beside his bed looking at him with concern.

“Hey, buddy!” He said cheerfully, giving him a wide smile.

“Um, do you remember what happened?” He asked nervously, wringing his hands together.

“Not really? I mean I know that we went on a mission and stuff but after that, it’s pretty blurry,” he admitted, looking around the room to see the rest of the team gathered around his bed. “Why? Did something happen?”

“Yeah, something happened,” he replied. Lane waited for him to continue but it seemed like he was having trouble getting it out. Instead, he turned to Pidge who was sitting beside Hunk on her laptop.

“Pidge?”

Her fingers stopped tapping and she glanced at him nervously. His eyes flicked between her and Hunk before straying over to Shiro and Keith who were equally as silent.

“What happened? Is there something wrong with me?” He asked frantically.

“The short answer to both of those questions is that you’re an android,” Pidge said carefully, moving her body to face Lance completely. The spoon fell from his hand, clanking off the tray and landing on the floor beside the bed. His eyes were wide in shock before he burst out into laughter, clapping his hand on his leg.

“That’s a good one Pidge, you almost had me,” he chuckled, wiping a fake tear from under his eye. He glanced around but no one else was laughing, instead, they were looking down at the ground. “Pidge?”

“I know that’s a joke that I would make but it’s not Lance,” she insisted with a frown. His eyes darted from her to the rest of the group, quietly begging for one of them to crack a smile, but none of them did.

“But, robotics aren’t this far advanced, it would be in the news, it would be everywhere on Earth,” he argued, gesturing wildly with his hands. “Unless…I’m not from Earth?” he asked with a wince but Pidge only shook her head at him.

“Your programming is all in English and Spanish, you were made on Earth and we think we know why nobody knew about such an advanced robot,” she said, moving to her computer set up. He ignored the programming part and tried to focus on the information she was giving to him.

“Your creators; Rosa and Cortez McClain,”

His stomach dropped.

“Everything is in your main database; their research journals, their processes, everything that was needed to keep you running, they even included where you live,”

“Mom and dad?” He whispered weakly. “This can’t be true Pidge, it can’t! I remember being a little kid, I remember growing up!” He was tearing up in a panic, grasping at straws that were quickly being pulled away.

“In their journals, they talked about a fatal incident,” Pidge tried, looking at her screen quickly.

“The car accident,” he clarified without missing a beat. It was always stuck in the back of his mind like a looming shadow.

“I shouldn’t have survived it, I-I didn’t survive it. Lance didn’t survive it,” he corrected himself. His hands clenched at his sides, shaking slightly.

“Lance,” Hunk tried, moving forward to put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t call me that,” he said weakly, brushing away the gentle touch.

“What?”

“I SAID DON’T CALL ME THAT! I’M NOT LANCE! I’VE NEVER BEEN LANCE!” He cried, eyes wide and filled with tears as he yelled at Hunk. With a gasping breath, he burst into sobs and hunched over, hiding his face in his hands. Hunk’s hand went to his back, gently rubbing up and down. As much as he wanted to wallow in his newfound misery, he was calming under the motions.

“What do you mean you’ve never been Lance?” Shiro asked calmly, coming to his other side and laying a hand on Lance’s shoulder. He gasped in an uneven breath, and tears rolled down his cheeks.

“The real Lance died in a car accident, I’m just someone-something that looks like him and has his memories,” he explained carefully. “I-I just feel like such an imposter,” he burst out with another sob. “This wasn’t the life that I was supposed to live, this is the life that Lance was supposed to live and I’m here instead,”

“We’ve never met the other Lance, we didn’t get to know him,” Keith said, finally stepping forward to stand beside Shiro. “We’re your friends, not his,”

“But if he was still alive, you probably would have been his friends,” he argued.

“But that’s not what happened! It’s unfortunate what happened, but this is the outcome and you’re our family Lance, we care about you,” Hunk broke in, startling Lance. He watched him with wide eyes.

“Family…” he trailed off suddenly in thought. Emotions raced across his face before settling on devastation.

“Lance, it’s pretty clear that your family loves you if they were willing to go this far to keep you with them,” Pidge reminded him, before patting him on the arm.

“You don’t understand,” he stated mournfully, turning to look at her with new tears streaked down his cheek. “I was made to be a replacement, what if I get back and they’ve just made another one of me?”

They sucked in a quick breath at the question. They were noticeably hesitant to answer if they had already replaced Lance once, what was stopping them from doing it again?

“Then fuck them,” Keith finally said. Their heads snapped over to look at him with shocked faces.

“Keith?”

“Seriously, fuck them. They shouldn’t doubt that you’re alive; when Shiro went missing, I never gave up hope that he was alive. The same with Pidge, and now she has proof that Matt is alive,” he said gesturing first at Shiro, then a beaming Pidge.

“Sure, the Garrison can lie but what acceptable thing can they come up with? ‘Three teens go missing during a lockdown?’ My dad is gullible but even he would know that something is up,” Hunk said with a smile, which Lance tentatively returned.

“I’m apologizing in advance for the shit that I’m going to go through in the next little bit,” he said quietly, a frown sliding across his face again. They huffed good-naturedly before wrapping him in a group hug.

“Don’t worry Lance, you’re only human,” Shiro soothed. Immediately, his mood plummeted again and he sagged a bit in their arms.

“But am I?” he asked quietly. The arms tightened around him.

“Of course you are, it doesn’t matter what you’re made up of,” Pidge said, squeezing him as much as she could. “You laugh,”

No matter where they were, no matter what was happening, Lance could always make light of the situation. When she felt down, a mischievous smile in her direction had her perking up, waiting for what Lance was going to do. Maybe he’d throw in a joke, or pull off a prank, most of the time he would stand there laughing at himself if the joke fell flat. She could see that sometimes, he would joke more for their sake.

“You cry,” Hunk added.

Days and nights spent in the kitchen, with Lance sobbing over a mug of watery space cocoa. Arms squeezing around his body trying to take as much comfort as Hunk could bear to give. When it came to Lance, he could take it all if he wanted. The nights in the kitchen came more and more often the longer they cruised through space, the possibility of returning home growing lower as the days passed. He could only let out his emotions at this time of night when no one else was around and only trusted his best friend to stick it out with him.

“You get scared,” Keith said softly.

Lance wanted to be brave and he pulled it off well, but if you looked close enough, you could always see his hands shaking before every mission. You could see the hesitance in his eyes during a mission planning. He would look off to the side to avoid eye contact during practices when he was facing off with Keith, Shiro, or Allura. They were all scared and they knew they were all scared, but Lance was a lot better at hiding it.

“You care, Lance,” Shiro finished, brushing his fingers through Lance’s hair.

Every planet, every inhabitant got Lance’s full respect. When he was there to save somebody, he was in 100%. It didn’t matter if they were rude to him during a meeting, if they were in trouble, he would lay his life on the line for them. He tried to hide what hurt him to keep the team happy, he did whatever he could to present his best self so they didn’t have to worry.

“You’re you,”

“Thank you,” he whimpered, leaning into the hugs a little bit more. A wobbling smile was on his face and happy tears were rolling down his face.

“You don’t have to thank us for this Lance, we’re always going to be here for you no matter what you think of yourself,” Hunk said with a grateful smile.

Lance just let himself be for a few minutes. Just let himself feel the warmth radiating off of his family.

“You know,” Hunk suddenly sighed. “I love how you haven’t noticed that you’re missing an arm,”

“WHAT!” He yelped, flinging everyone off of him to look down at his arms. One was the familiar brown he had always been used to while the other was a sleek white and black metal. When he flexed his fingers, the joints lit up with a blue light. He looked up at Hunk with wide eyes.

“I don’t know how much of the fight you actually remember but we were able to transfer some of the “skin” on your arm to fix your face. Turns out that Alteans do not take cosmetic surgery lightly, so it’s nice and even too!” Hunk said, holding up a mirror for Lance to look in. Apparently, he was right because he saw the exact same face he always had.

“Your arm was completely useless though, so we made you a new one,” Pidge preened, scooting up to run her fingers up and down the arm.

“Okay, I guess that’s kind of cool,” he admitted, bringing it up to examine it more closely.

“Great, now would you like the bad news or good news first?” Hunk asked cheerfully despite what he said. Lance looked at him with a deadpanned expression before he let out a heavy sigh.

“Well, it can’t be any worse than any of the other news today, bad first,” he chose, looking back down to the arm.

“Okay, well, we aren’t exactly sure how Altean tech will work with yours, so we’re going to have to monitor you for a while,” Pidge said with a bit of a shrug. “We haven’t fully activated it so there won’t be much damage if there is a problem,”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound too bad, the good news?” He asked looking up at Hunk who was fully smiling.

“Shiro,” he said instead. Lance blinked in confusion looking over at their leader instead.

“We’re twining!” He exclaimed, batting at Lance’s new hand with his own metal one.

“Oh my god, that literally just made my day,” he laughed, as he leaned over to Shiro and gave him a one-armed hug.

Stories Masterlist

[wheezyboykaspbrak]

could it be lemon?

i wrote a fic on ao3 and i finished it so i thought i would post it up here but uhhh i will also post the ao3 link bc it’s probably easier to read up there

words -> 7,914 (i keep wanting to add another word bc this isn’t a pretty number)

pairing -> eddie/richie BUT stan/mike for the 3rd chapter as bg cuties

it’s dated in 93′-94′ bc i mentioned a medicine being fda approved or w/e

ao3 link

here we go Bois sorry if it ain’t gr8 i haven’t written smth that wasn’t poetry or essays for idk a few years

Richie thought about Eddie a bit too much in class- so much so, that he was beginning to worry himself. Once he started fantasizing about dark brown eyes, bruised shins, pink shirts, scabbed yet clean, covered elbows- he knew he was going to be in for an unproductive class. But god, what did Mendel even do for the world that could compare to the effect that Eddie had on Richie’s life? Biology had no priority over the pretty boy Richie held so fondly in his heart.

Yes, the pretty boy, who wore sometimes overalls, and sometimes short baby blue shorts. Who had eyelashes that would knock brick houses down in less than a second, and had lips that shined with what Richie could only assume were the balms of pure bliss (probably lip smackers- lemon, if he had to guess; but he wanted to know). A pretty boy who looked very, very different to the dirty boy that Richie knew he was.

Richie didn't wear the powdered blues and bubblegum pinks that Eddie would flounce around in. He wore gray, red, and black instead- as cut off shorts and ripped jeans, bruises always peeking through the holes of the knees. Instead of the soft brown waves that Eddie had, Richie had thick ringlets in his almost black hair that were all tangled together; like girthy, inky roots of old and dying trees. His shoes were not held together by velcro, nor were they regularly cleaned by a boy a bit too high maintenance for his own good. Richie’s laugh was not as bright, his hands were not as soft, his skin was not as warm-

But just because they were so different didn't stop Richie from so desperately going after Eddie, and all he had to offer.

After the class bell blared, and he wiped at the warmness in his cheeks, he found himself on a mission. He usually didn't cross paths with Eddie after this class had ended, but he had fawned particularly hard over the boy this go around and he needed to actually feel him. He needed to press his chapped lips against a freckled cheek and ruffle the hairs that danced around his ears. Ears that would sometimes have pencils shoved behind them, ears that burned bright red when he was frustrated and also when he was cold. Ears that would listen to Richie’s joke, a nose that would crinkle in disgust and amusement, lips that would purse and spout- a full Eddie that would give him attention and drag him down into another pit of what seemed like unrequited hell.

But in actuality he was an Eddie who loved him just as much as Richie loved, but wasn't sure how to say it. Especially as he watched the now jogging gangly boy trying to endearingly catch up to him before his next class.

His words, Eddies, always seemed to get stuck in his windpipe. But he couldn't help it all that much. The same way that Richie thought of Eddie, Eddie dreamily thought of the dirty boy himself.

The dirty boy, yeah. The one with boots that came halfway up his scarred and cigarette burned calves. With a smile so big and beautiful that it could replace the face on the moon. With glasses thick enough to amplify the sparkle and crinkle and small twinkle in his eyes, which Eddie would find himself getting lost in without much of a reason to. The dirty boy who smelled like bad cologne and arcades and menthols- the boy who somehow always managed to take Eddie’s breath away (if only for a moment).

Richie managed to get to Eddie from across the hall, his long- long, long, long- arm wrapping around the smaller set of shoulders on the duo, pale fingers squeezing into Eddie’s bicep. The long awaited peck Richie was previously drooling over was given, but instead of the cheek he just barely reached for Eddie’s temple- planting a sloppy one right on the smoothed surface of his forehead. His nose brushed against the hair that framed the pretty boy’s forehead and he took a discreet sniff, to remember for later.

Strawberry. It was always strawberry, and it was so, distinctly Eddie at this point. He still wanted to get to know what he assumed was lemon, but Richie would always take what he could get with Eddie. And Eddie would do the same.

Every touch that Richie gave felt like it burned- but Eddie loved it. It burned like the pleasant rays of the sun and lingered like freckles or a nasty sunburn. He loved when he could feel the slight spasm of Richie’s arm or hand against his back. Like a rabbit jumped over Richie’s grave, just to help remind Eddie that the boy was still there. Or, especially, when he could feel the light exhale of breath just after his soft yet sparse face kisses. This time around there was no exhale, but there was a warm patch that seemed to spread across Eddie’s face. It felt like a gift, but he wasn't sure for what, or if he particularly deserved it.

A present it was, for sure, but a curse it felt like it could be as well. He couldn’t react as he wanted- as he needed to, by melting into Richie’s side and looking up into brown eyes much more inky than his own. Especially in the hall, in public, Eddie immediately knew he had to act disgusted. His nose did the crinkle that Richie loved so, so much, and his hands went up to Richie’s chin, to pinch and push him away. There was a light popping sound when the wet kiss had been detached that the pretty boy felt in his quick beating heart.

"Wow, gross. Did you really haul your flat ass here to give me some other girls mono? I am touched-“ he looked at the hand that still was tightly wrapped around his arm, “in more ways than one- but I think I already got it from your sister, so there's no point in trying to infect me now." Eddie scoffed, releasing the grip he had on Richie’s chin- but not before giving it a squeeze. A squeeze that made Richie’s chin sore but his breath flutter.

"The special lady I got it from was your mother, so hell Eddiebear, you probably infected your mom yourself! I see the way you kiss her on the cheek, you oedipal complex motherfu-"

"Hey, hey Richie?" Eddie’s voice interrupted him before he could finish speaking. his tone was softer than what he had expected to come out of the pretty boy’s mouth- it almost shocked him, making him go quiet. Richie’s grip on eddies arm loosened and slid down to be closer to the crevice of his elbow, taking his time to look down at Eddie. He witnessed Eddie’s lip twitch, his brows becoming furrowed- and Richie just knew he had to take him seriously, if only for a second.

"Yeah, Eddie, what's up?"

"I just wanted to make a suggestion to you,” he let out a soft exhale before reaching to the hand that was still cradling his arm. He began to slowly pry the fingers off one by one, before pinching Richie's pinkie in between two sharp nails, “learn how to shut the fuck up- beep beep, if you will. My mom doesn't have mono, especially not from me, you sick fuck. Now go to class, because the fact that you’re here and not halfway across the building by now is tragic in regards to your dwindling focus on your education."

Richie clenched his teeth at the pinch before yanking his hand away, giving it a shake. He grimaced, making that beautiful, expressive face all the more froggy, before cracking a smile and letting out a small laugh that came from deep within in his chest.

“Wow, kinky, Kaspbrak! And yet so caring. Maybe next time we get this rough, I can give you a safe word. And maybe next time, I’ll let you graze my voluptuous tits instead.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, rolled them hard, before giving Richie a push to the direction of his class. Just in the middle of his back is where his hand had rested for just a second too long, and he was able to feel the curves in Richie’s spine beneath his layered shirts. He wanted to follow the curve up, follow the curve down- down, down, down?- but he yanked his hand away so that he could properly dismiss the other before they were both going to be horribly late to class.

“In your dreams, Tozier. How about you start actually washing your shirts after you wear them five times, and then we’ll talk about your tits. Now, shoo.”

And with that, they went, both heads swimming and skin warmed by the others obvious yet unnoticed affections.

It almost seemed hopeless, Richie would countlessly think to himself, to try and lasso Eddie in. As if he would give in to Richie’s constant affections- as if Eddie was actually gay, or liked anyone or anything at all for that matter. Could it really be so fruitless? He hoped not, but it nagged at him- it made him tug at his own curls as the thought constantly tickled intrusively in the corners of his mind.

Self-doubt continued to stew throughout him during the day, and with it he began to assume. He assumed that Eddies cheeks, where the rays had given soft kisses and left small love marks, only really turned red from frustration whenever Richie was around. He assumed that the longing and lasting looks, from eyes that reminded him of the big and glossy pebbles they would skip across the quarry, were only in response to every rotten thing that Richie had ever done, suddenly playing back in the pretty boy’s mind with scorn. He assumed that Eddie didn't love him, never could, that he never would. But he also knows what assuming does, and he's been an ass since the dawn of time; for nearly too long.

Richie decided class was pointless a long time ago, but it felt like it was especially today. Richie knew that he wasn't going to be listening to the droning that fuzzily overtook the silence that would otherwise be filling the room (unless the students left a quiet roar). There were better things to mull over, easier things to imagine and picture in his mind beyond the graphs that his teacher would have displayed against a chalkboard later anyway. He began to dream of what he assumed would be a sweet, bitter, smooth kiss. A kiss he thinks hasn’t even come close to, yet a kiss he’s come closer to than he knows. His hands seemed to linger to his lips throughout the day, squeezed and puckered between his fingers occasionally. And like the flick of a lighter, a warming, pleasant thought suddenly breeched into his mind, crawling in his stomach; and he briefly wondered if Eddie would be a biter. Eddie had a quick wit, and a fight response just as or more potent than his flight. He was almost sure Eddie was a biter now, and it was such a heavenly thought to hold on to.

It wasn't until lunch, which he arrived late to, that his head reached back to rest at his shoulders from their journey in space- only just so he could look at the beautiful boy to his left, that being Eddie Kaspbrak himself. It was the third time he had saw him today, but damn, if it isn't three times a charm to help one learn how desperately in love they actually were.

Richie wasn't eating anything today- he dined on a pleasant dish of two cigarettes from earlier and the inside skin of his cheek. Eddie however was eating celery, and even offered Richie some (as he noticed Richie wasn’t eating, he always noticed), but he declined. Richie claimed he didn’t like the stringiness of it, and would occasionally take a jab and say an ‘I told you so!’ anytime he saw Eddie frustratingly trying to pick at his teeth- teeth that Richie had pictured earlier eagerly gnawing at his lips, instead of the bastardly stalks.

Richie noticed Eddie would wipe his hands between each piece, oddly rolling the napkin in between his fingertips. Delicately, Richie found the action to be synonymous with the word, although he wouldn’t admit to it- he knew the pretty boy thought of the word with some aversion. But he also found it to be an endearing ritual, that he had never really commented on.

"So, Eds, are you planning on rubbing my blossoming boobies like that later? If so, we are gonna have a problem, you know how I like it rough. I’m sure you’ve heard your mom and I- my screams were ones of pleasure, I assure you, Eddie my love!" he winked, before leaning across the table towards Stan and nudging him with his elbow, “’Cause momma Sonia really knows how to whip it, doesn’t she boys?”

Whoops, make it never minus today. He of course made it a joke, but the thought of Eddie’s hands on his bare skin made his boot clad feet turn inward. The thought of the pretty boy in his pastel tops and half calf socks, butterfly clips holding his bangs back, sitting on Richie’s lap and fiddling with the skin of his chest- it made stomach clench. Eddie's clear coated nails making angry marks down the dirty boy’s side, his balmy lips leaving smears along Richie’s jaw- his breath stuttered on an exhale as he dug his dirty nails into his palm, inwardly cursing his overactive imagination, especially in front of his friends. He felt as if he had broken out into a sweat; he hoped he didn’t look it.

Eddie made a disgusted face as he open mouth chewed on his celery, setting his napkin back down onto his lap. Richie glanced down at it after it had fallen; it landed against lightly tanned thighs, Eddie’s shorts riding halfway up in a way that made the dirty boys palms even more sweaty. Richie dreamily thought about tracing the flat moles that decorated Eddie frequently, especially the ones littered on his thighs, but he turned his attention back to eddies mouth the moment he began to speak again.

"-like Jesus Christ, Richie, I’m eating. In fact, everyone here except you is eating. No one wants that image invading their thoughts, especially ME. Try being a little bit more considerate the next time you try being a complete trashmouth." Eddie swallowed the bit of celery he had in his mouth before sealing the sandwich bag that held them. He glanced at his watch, and then at the door, biting his lip before turning his attention back to the group. Richie noticed, glancing to the door himself with a small movement, but he was interrupted by Stan before he could say anything about it.

"Honestly, Richie, shut up. No one wants to think of your nonexistent ass getting flogged by a middle-aged woman, especially in a place as holy as the Kaspbrak residence." Stan bit back at Richie, and Eddie gestured to Stan with his hand holding the bag, haphazardly slinging it around. He looked as though he was briefly considering smacking Richie with what was left of his vegetables, but decided against it.

"See, look, at least two people at this table are done with the garbage pouring from behind your goofy ass grin. Here," Eddie took the napkin from his lap and pushed it into Richie’s hand, patting the arm that trailed up from it, "use this to wipe the bullshit that is somehow constantly spewing from your mouth. You're going to need it if you plan on saying literally anything else today."

With that he grabbed his backpack off the floor and shoved the rest of his celery in there, straightening out the collar of his t-shirt before waving off at Bill and Stan. For Richie, he gave him a small pat on a leathered shoulder, his fingers brushing against the tangled curls.

"Bye, losers, like I said earlier I have an appointment today. Tell the kid who, most likely, decisively coughs in my direction in sixth not to miss me too hard. I know I won't be the one crying about it later." His hand was so warm, even through Richie’s layers-

And then he squeezed. He squeezed Richie’s shoulder and it made him feel so grounded, yet it was also dizzying. He didn’t say a farewell in response, instead Richie started to move his hand up to cover the pretty boys; but it was gone before he could reach it. He just settled on pulling out his lighter from his breast pocket, since it looked like he was going for it anyway, before shoving it back in awkwardly.

He hardly noticed Bill starting to talk to him.

"-abandoned lot duh-downtown. You i-interested?”

Richie snapped back down to Earth and rubbed at his eyes from behind his glasses, looking to Stan for a bit more clarification as he began to speak, following along with Bill.

"Not too keen on the idea myself, but I know Mike will be there. I think he found a way to get fireworks here, into Maine.” Stan paused, before leaning forward a bit from the cafeteria bench, “Ben is going to bring bud, if that compels you even more to join. Although I will forever prefer you didn’t, it would be dickish of us to offer any less."

"I've always been interested in checking that place out, but now the deal is sealed and it couldn't be any sweeter. Fireworks? Bud with buds? Y'all really know how to make a sweet girl like me cry." Richie fake sniffled before pursing his lips, "Did you invite Eddie?” he squeezed the napkin in his hands, mimicking the way the other had rolled his fingertips before, this time under the table.

“Y-Yeah, of course we did. duh-didn’t you hear him? He- he’s going to an appointment, s-so he’ll probably drop buh-by later if he can escape the i-iron curtain that is his muh-mother. What, was your mind t-t-too focused on the pulsing of your baby dick every t-time he ‘caressed’ you that you couldn’t bring yourself to lis-listen to him?” Bill teased, before continuing, “Just j-joking- but we did talk about it buh-before you got here and he d-did say he would try.”

“Hilarious as always, Denbrough- but I'm glad to know you kept the spaghetti boy in your hearts.” He quickly shoved the napkin from Eddie into his left pocket before giving Bill a wink and running a now free hand smoothly down his own chest, “Also, baby dick who? Y’all know I’m packing a meter-long King Kong dong, don’t play yourselves!” The bell rang just as Richie had finished his sentence, and they all collectively stood, hovering around the table to wrap up their conversation.

“Pfft, shut up, Richie. So, we will see you tonight?” Stan asked while straightening out his backpack, situating it on his shoulders.

“You bet your kosher ass you’ll be seeing me tonight, Stanley!” and he dreamily hoped that he would be seeing Eddie tonight as well. He was already picturing his face lighting up from the fireworks, looking up from the ground- whether he be laying down, sitting, on his knees; he would look perfect, and if there was even a chance Eddie would be there, Richie wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Eddie spent the next few hours in the pediatrician’s office, fiddling with the sparse napkin used to cover the patient bench. He never understood why it took two hours to do an asthma appointment, but he feels like it would be more bearable if he had better company. He glanced at his mother in the chair across the room, beginning to doze off, and he briefly pictured the one and only dirty boy there, taking her spot. He loves his mother, he really does, but when it comes to being trapped in a room with someone, while he hated to admit it, Richie was far better company than Sonia or none at all.

He rolled his peak flow meter around in his hands, shaking it to hear it rattle, before there was a knock on the door. His mom stirred, but didn't wake, and the doctor walked in. Her smile was sweet, and her eyes crinkled the same way Richie’s did- all while also hiding behind thick frames. She wrote down a prescription for Eddie to get refills, and briefly mentioned a new medicine called Salmeterol. It was approved by the FDA this year, apparently, and would eventually replace the need for a rescue inhaler. Eddie bit his lip and glanced at his sleeping mother before back at the pediatrician, shaking his head no and giving her his own small smile. He didn’t want another medicine under his belt- or rather, shoved in his fanny pack, because he knew it was all fake anyway. What’s the point in feeding more lies?

He already knew that he didn't really need his inhaler, but he had grown so dependent on it. The thought of getting a new one and his somewhat of a placebo addiction getting worse scared him. He grabbed his one and only prescription slip before going to the chair his mother was in and briefly giving her a small shake. She woke up, with a start, before smiling at the prescription that was in Eddie’s hand and beginning to stand.

The ride to the pharmacy was quiet, but the ride back to the house was when Eddie tried to bring up a question he'd been meaning to ask in the office; albeit nervously.

"Mommy," he started, fiddling with the hem of his shorts, "is it okay if I go out with my friends tonight? We were going to go to Ben’s house, to study old maps together." it wasn't the best scenario, but he tried to make it sound at least a bit different from his other lies- before his mother could catch on to the repetition.

Her hands on the steering wheel tightened, and she looked over to briefly glance at Eddie up and down, before bringing her eyes back to the road. "Alright, but!" Eddie looked down at his thighs, waiting for the conditions, simultaneously happy and filled with apprehension, "I don’t want you out too late, young man. If you're out past 11 o'clock, you're going to be in trouble and make mommy real mad. understood?"

Eddie gave a curt nod, releasing his shorts. It seemed his mother wasn't satisfied with his response.

"Am I understood?" she repeated, raising her voice a bit.

"Sorry, yes, mommy- ma'am." Eddie said, clearly, raising his head to look at his mother’s profile.

At least he had her approval- that was a step in the right direction. Although he wished he didn’t have to ask for it, for the simplest of things, he also wished that he didn’t have to lie to her in order to obtain it.

When he arrived home, he did his best to get ready. He didn't change much of his outfit, but he did manage to switch his socks, from half calf to knee highs, for the chillier night they were expecting in Derry. He then set his watch for 10:30pm and shoved his medicines into his bright, yellow fanny pack, later reaching in between his mattress to pull out his spare lighter. Almost everyone in the loser’s club had a lighter, but he would be damned if this was the one day everyone somehow forgot theirs-

Richie though, he knew would never forget his. Eddie tried not lie to himself too much anymore, but it was still hard to admit that he actually loved when Richie smoked around him. He found the smell welcoming on Richie’s clothes, in his hair. It followed him, and while he wished Richie would stop, he knew that it was a beloved part of the dirty boy’s familiarity. Eddie found it cute when Richie would have cigarettes shoved behind his ears in place of the pencils that Eddie would usually have. He wanted to touch the cigarette burns on his legs, kiss his thumbs every time he managed to touch the hot metal of the lighter- and sometimes he wanted to grab the cigarette from Richie’s lips and stomp it out, just so Eddie could replace it with his own lips if only for a brief moment.

He shoved his lighter in his pockets before checking his watch. It was 5:00pm, and the sun was beginning to noticeably set. He walked down his steps quietly before walking over to his mother in the kitchen and giving her a brief kiss on the cheek, waving her off after grabbing his beige sweater hanging from the hat tree and walking to the porch. Once he was out, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, reaching for the front pocket of his fanny pack to reapply his chapstick- a rundown tube of lip smackers, with a faded label and bite marks on the cap from the use.

Instead of walking he decided to bike, finding his bicycle nestled against the side of his house. He grabbed it by the handlebars and yanked it out, before beginning to peddle to where he was told the abandoned lot was.

On his way there, he began to think. He thought about the times that Richie and him would share bikes and bike rides, Eddie usually being the one to squeeze himself onto Richie’s bike seat with Richie barely on the tip (no matter how dangerous it was). It's been awhile since the last time, but he remembers the moments fondly. They had only fallen off a few times out of what must've been hundreds of rides, but the scabbed knees and crushed medicine bottles were sometimes worth it when it meant being so close to someone you trusted so dearly.

He arrived at the lot in about ten minutes, and the only other person there so far was Mike. He had a box in the basket of his bike, replacing the meats that were usually shoved in there, but it looked clunky and as if it would fall to the ground any minute. He waved at Eddie when he pulled up, and Eddie grinned before getting off his bike and waving back. He went over to Mike and started to mock tap the box, standing off to its side to speak.

"Wow Mike, where the hell did you get these?" he already knew the box contained the fireworks, even in its nondescript packaging.

"New Hampshire! My old man and I went down there to check up on buying a few bales of hay for real cheap, and we stumbled across a tent with tables just stacked with these things on the way back! Let's hope they work, right?" Mike laughed, warmly, taking the box out of the basket and setting it down on the ground, crossing his legs as he sat on the ground behind it. The setting sun framed him beautifully, as he began to fiddle through the now open box of fireworks with mild interest. For being one of the strongest of the group, he seemed to handle things with such a delicacy and grace- comparable to if not even more so than Eddie’s own mannerisms (especially more so, when it came to grace).

Eddie was slightly nervous about the fireworks, but he pushed the small anxieties down in favor of a good time (but not before groping the front of his fanny pack, as habit). He kneeled and sat beside Mike, as they continued to talk about how clear the night was, perfect for seeing every little spark. Eddie himself even picked up a few of the pieces, grinning to Mike and holding one of the bigger rockets to the other boys forearm to compare the length. Mike did the same, but he would pick up something small- like a smoke bomb- and then hold it up to Eddie’s head, them laughing together between small shoves. Eventually, they had stopped talking and messing around when they heard more bicycles coming up behind them, turning their heads back to look and see who was approaching.

At first they just saw Ben and Bill, but then they saw Stan and Richie trailing behind them. Mike and Eddie both waved to the four of them, yelling out their greetings before getting up. Eddie dusted off his knees, while Mike dusted off the backs of his jeans, leaving the box and its contents on the dirt.

All the losers, once they had reached the two boys, glanced at the slightly opened box on the ground with lit up eyes, a whistle and a hand clap coming out of Richie. But, before Mike could turn back around to start rummaging and grabbing a rocket to start the lightshow, Bill raised a hand and gestured to Ben, who had a messenger bag slung over his shoulders and was fiddling with the flaps of the front pocket (supposedly with the stash).

"We are all excited for the fuh-fireworks, but it's probably best if we l-light something else up, fir-first." he grinned, and everyone collectively nodded. It was around 6:00pm at this point, and dark enough for them to get huddled around in a corner and start to roll.

Ben knew how to roll the best, but Richie always insisted that he try. Eddie and Stan would always roll their eyes at him when he attempted to 'pearl' it, only to have something ragged and uneven looking come out. Usually someone (Ben) would be getting the second ready right then, instead of later, and Richie would scoff jokingly and cross his arms across his chest with a grin. He would mumble, something along the lines of 'a blunts a blunt, right?', before shoving it into the hands of someone else. He usually gave it to Stan first, but this time he lit it himself, taking a few short puffs and exhaling up while the others talked to their friends beside them. The way Richie pursed his lips and tilted his head with so much fluidity made Eddie’s face warm, and the smile that he was given when the blunt was passed to him seemed to only make it worse.

He took a small inhale, and then another, holding it in and burning the back of his throat. Eddie coughed while his eyes watered, before passing the blunt to Mike with a sniffle. Richie laughed and rubbed near Eddies shoulder blade, and Eddie suddenly remembered how close they were, his sock clad knees bumping with the others beside him. He wiped at one of his own eyes and looked over at Richie, grimacing at him and doing a small shrug of his shoulder at an attempt to shake off the hand (but it was noncommittal).

"I hope none of you guys are sick, because god knows I don't want to catch whatever's crawling in your loser mouths." Eddie said, and Mike laughed and coughed simultaneously beside him, passing to Stan. If Richie were to pry his eyes off of Eddie, he would've seen Mike and Stan brush hands- with both of their faces tinting red. But Richie was a bit too preoccupied at this point, looking at those glossy pebble eyes again that stared at him, expecting for the quip back.

"Trust me, Eddie bear, there's probably something way worse crawling in that mouth of yours than any of ours." Richie mumbled, moving his hand down Eddies back. He tickled against the pretty boy’s spine through his shirt, tracing it before moving to the divots of his ribs. His sweater was moderately thick, but he could still feel it like bumps in a road.

"And what are you implying, fuckwad?"

"The only person I’m imp lying with is your mom- surprise surprise, I’m just a lil devil in bed."

"Wow, gross. I already knew you lived without basic human decency, but I didn’t think you would admit to being a demon. Regardless of your honesty, I still think you should shut that loser trap of yours.”

Eventually the blunt made its way back to Richie, and he took a couple puffs again, but this time he exhaled onto Eddie’s face. He laughed at the way the pretty boys face scrunched up and he batted the stale smoke away, thick eyelashes fluttering to prevent drying eyes.

“Rude.” Eddie mumbled, as he took the blunt away from Richie, only getting one hit in before passing it to Mike once again. It was beginning to reach their fingertips at this point, and Eddie was beginning to feel a bit lightheaded. He ended up leaning against Mike for a moment, with no protest from the other, before being tugged over to fall against Richie.

Eddie didn’t react too much, but Richie’s leg was visibly shaking from his own boldness. His hand was now resting on the crook of Eddie’s elbow instead of his back, where he was giving gentle squeezes. He was sure Mike didn’t mind having Eddie ripped off of him, he seemed too infatuated with the way Stan gently held what remained of the blunt between two finger tips, but Richie felt all too jealous in the moment and brash in the afterthought. That’s just something he would have to work on, himself.

Richie continued to rub his arm, sometimes going all the way down to his wrist, just feeling his skin and his warmth with the contrast of the brisk Derry air. When his hand was on his wrist he would sometimes slide the beige sweater wrapped around him up, feeling along the veins in his arm and the slow- yet oddly, sometimes stuttering- beating of the smaller boy’s heart. He wanted to feel the pulse on his lips, when he would kiss from his knuckles and up. Richie just wanted to be so goddamn tender with the boy, feel the way the skin covering his ribs would shift as he calmly breathed when he would hold him. He wanted to bury his nose and kiss his seemingly always fruity smelling scalp, with his hands holding his soft jaw. He just wanted to love him, and he felt it especially with the Eddie that he saw now, so calm and yet looking so frazzled, eyes red and usually perfectly parted hair curling up and reaching towards the stars.

It seems the second blunt was lit while he was musing over the boy, and it had managed to make its way back to Richie again. He almost didn’t notice, too preoccupied in the oddly dazed boy wrapped under his arm, but he gladly took a toke before bringing the blunt to Eddie’s lips. He almost rejected, doing a small shake of his head, before shrugging and mumbling a ‘fuck it’, leaning forward and lightly wrapping his lips near where Richie’s fingers rested. Richie felt the faint brush of lips before Eddie pulled away, coughing on another exhale and slinking forward. It lasted for one more rotation before mike started to stand, slumping over to the box with a small smile.

“Alright, you guys,” he nearly yelled, bringing his hands together in a loud clap, “I think it’s a good a time as any. Let’s get it.” he starts small, and throws a box of sparklers onto the ground in front of the other losers, before pulling out one ample sized rocket.

“Wow, that’s almost as big as my dick…” Richie said, astonished, pulling Eddie tighter and closer to his side once he felt the other start to groan and pull away.

“Are you talking about the fuse? Good to know you’re at least three inches, I’m sure it makes the ladies swoon as soon as you drop your pants.” Stan murmured, earning a laugh and a slap on the knee from both Eddie and Ben, while Bill was too busy spacing out and fumbling with his frayed aglets.

Mike barely heard them, zoning out himself with his tongue prodding between his lips as he attempted to set up the place to light the thing. The other losers began to open the box of sparklers, Richie managing to grab one for both him and Eddie and placing it (unlit) into the hand that Richie was not messing with/cradling. Eddie felt around in his pocket for his own sunshine yellow lighter, a small lemon drawn on the front of it, before clumsily trying to light the sparkler.

He succeeded in doing so, and wielded it away from him, looking at the way it popped as he twiddled it around in a circle, before the other losers used his sparkler to quickly light their own. Mike figured that he had put enough space between the first rocket and the band of his friends, so he pulled out a box of matches and quickly gave a thumbs up to the others, before lighting it and running back to the huddled sitting circle. Mike didn’t sit back down with the others, just squatting, ready to run up and light another just as soon as this one faded.

With the sparklers in their hands and the beautiful dispersal of the lights in the sky, the losers all looked on and made small noises in awe. Stan looked at Mike, dropping his sparkler into the dirt before standing and speaking, “Hey, can I go do one with you this time?” he asked, wobbling a bit on his knees. He kept on looking at Mike, and saw the way that the sparks would reflect in his dark eyes, mimicking the sky itself. It seemed like Richie and Eddie weren’t the only ones completely infatuated with each other.

Mike turned to face Stan and laughed, going over to put a hand on Stan’s shoulder, nodding, “Yeah! Let’s go ahead and do one, right now, since the other one’s already so far gone by now.” and so he tugged him along, taking him over to the box as they pulled out one of the more girthier ones- they weren’t completely sure what any of them would do until lit, but this one didn’t see like a rocket to either of them.

While they tried figuring out on how to use the damned firework, Eddie looked up at Richie with a glazed look on his face. He didn’t smoke often, but he knew that he was a lightweight without much experience. He was beginning to have small moments of fading in and out, where he was remembering very little and just tried remaining calm and collected on the dirt. It was surprisingly pleasant, as if he was just dozing on and off, but it did make his heart skip with short-lived anxiety when he wasn’t at least half focused on something else. After his sparkler had gone out, and there was a brief interlude between the display, he chose to focus on how Richie would look on- at everything and at absolutely nothing- with such a dreamy look in his eye. His brows would raise, and his mouth would quirk, and Eddie thought that he just looked so damn pretty in the moment. Pretty in a way that he felt that he himself could never be.

When the next firework went off, it was one of the ones that stayed on the ground- but it’s effect was breath taking. It had managed to grab Eddie’s attention once again, but about half way through Richie managed to glance at Eddie…and he saw exactly what he wanted to from before.

He saw Eddie’s mouth slightly agape, while the lights lit up his face and shone on the balm coating his lips. He saw his brown eyes, although lidded, flecked with golds and reds, reminding him of amber. He saw a beautiful boy, sitting, look on in awe at something Richie saw every day, that being a phenomenal burst of light and ball of fire- that being the embodiment of Eddie Kaspbrak in Richie’s mind.

His sparkler was abandoned, and his free hand went and grabbed Eddie’s jaw…but Eddie’s reaction time seemed a little too slow for Richie’s liking, for the kiss he was so hopelessly planning. Instead he just slipped his hand down from his jaw to his shoulder, and gave him a small hug. Eddie seemed a bit perplexed, but he returned the hug the best he could- and while doing so, turning himself more so that he was closer to Richie. While the other losers chattered away, Eddie managed to actually fall asleep, finding almost too much comfort in the others hold.

He was woken up by Richie an hour and a half later when his watch was beginning to beep, signaling that he had to start heading home.

“Ah, fuck,” he muttered, untangling himself from the now one arm that was around him instead of the two that encompassed him earlier. He looked over at the other losers, who at some point had laid down in a line in front of Eddie and Richie, while making a slow attempt at standing. “Wow, sorry I fell asleep-“

“It’s fine,” Ben mumbled out, breaking from his concentration on the stars, looking over his head and up to the small boy shifting behind him, “but we were all sort of surprised. The rockets got a little loud at times!”

“Yeah, no, I don’t know how the fuck it happened. I’m just as shocked as you are, but I gotta get home now. Thanks again for letting me be a part of th-”

“Wait, hold up, Edward Spaghedward-“ Richie stood, straightening out his jacket, “Let me walk home with you, don’t want anything to go bump-in-the-night, do we?”

“Do you really think that it’s necessary that you do that, Richie? Any of that, at all.” he asked, before trudging off to go and grab his bike.

“Yes, yes I think I should do all the things, all the time, and this one particular thing that I should be doing tonight is making sure that you get home in one piece: fanny pack and all.” Richie managed to get a few members of the losers club to agree with him before he got a dejected sigh from the pretty boy.

“Alright, fine.” and with that they both grabbed their bikes and began to walk them home, handle bars gripped tightly the whole way by both on their way to the Kaspbrak residence.

Eddie seemed like he was doing better, slightly more sentient than he had appeared previously, but Richie was unsure if tonight would be a good night to bust a move on the small boy. As they walked, bickering back and forth, trying to knock the other off balance by shoving their bikes in the others paths, Richie continued to mull over it. It wasn’t until they reached Eddie’s house that he quickly thought of a situation that he slide himself into. He followed Eddie to the side of his house, as the other shoved his bike into its usual crevice, all the while Richie was awkwardly fiddling with the lint in his pocket. Richie’s bike had been left to lean again the Kaspbrak mobile, to leave his hands free. Once Eddie had released his bike and turned back to Richie, one of the dirty boy’s hands left his pocket and was back on the others face again.

He saw Eddie shiver, his eyebrows raise- he could feel that quickening pulse again just barely below his pinkie, and Richie had to hold himself back from planting his lips (probably clumsily) on the other boy immediately. He looked into Eddie’s eyes, then down to his mouth, then back to his eyes; and he was sure he was breaking a sweat (again). Eddie was confused, but damn if he wasn’t immeasurably flustered by the others gentle touch.

“Jesus Christ. What- what is it, Richie? Could you stop being so weird for ten minutes.” he mumbled out, but he sounded a little breathless.

“Are you still high as a kite, Eds?” Richie nearly whispered, hand moving up to his cheek. He thumbed at the freckles and the dark circles under Eddie’s eyes, sometimes accidentally bumping his nose, making Eddie’s mouth quirk.

“Ugh, not really? I don’t know, but this is a little weird Richie. What- are you still high or something, idiot?”

“Probably, who fucking knows- I just, fuck, would it be okay if I kissed you? Right now, because I’ve felt like I’ve needed to all day and it’s starting to get downright ridiculous, but I’m so nervous- can you feel how sweaty my hand is on your face? I’m sorry.”

Eddie’s face began to light up even more at his words, under Richie’s hand. Instead of speaking he just nodded, firmly- but Richie didn’t seem completely assured, so he huffed out a small breath and looked up at Richie’s forehead.

“Please just go ahead and do it, before I end up drowning from your premium palm perspiration, Richie.”

And then Richie’s lips are on him, and it’s so soft, just barely grazing- it’s apprehensive. Eddie brings his hands up to push up Richie’s glasses, pulling them off before he presses his lips against Richie’s even harder. He disconnects, Eddie, but he keeps his eyes closed; and he doesn’t see prior to connecting back once more than Richie’s eyes were on him, doting and glossy and utterly full of love.

Once they were back together, Richie took the opportunity to discover the answer to his age-old question. He lightly sucked on Eddie’s bottom lip, his tongue doing a small swipe, before he pulled back and pushed his hand through Eddie’s hair. He lightly kissed his forehead, and then he tried tasting the balm on his own lips but it was…weird. Not too entirely similar to the artificial lemon flavoring he was expecting. He squinted at Eddie’s hair, perplexed, but Eddie was doing just the same for the same reason (different circumstance).

“Uh, question- why aren’t you still kissing me?” Eddie murmured, his hand that wasn’t holding onto Richie’s glasses grabbing at the other boys arm, while he reached up to kiss at Richie’s jaw.

“What is it, Eds?”

“What’s what, dumbass?”

“Your chapstick, dude! It’s throwing me for a loop…I guess the thought of kissing you felt so gay, everything about it had to scream fruity,” at that Eddie stopped kissing his jaw and pulled back to glare at him, while Richie gave a smack of his lips, “But this is queer in a whole other way.”

“Tozier, you’re heaven-sent but god if you don’t know how to ruin a damn moment.” he cursed before putting Richie’s glasses into his own pocket, releasing the others arm and unzipping the front pocket of his fanny pack. He pulled out that quizzical tube of lip smackers, hesitating before popping the cap and applying it to Richie’s lips himself. Richie let him, with no protest, with his hand still carding through Eddie’s hair.

“It’s Dr. Pepper, Richie.” and then they are kissing again- and he supposes that’s even better than the lemon he imagined, because god if that wasn’t so, uniquely Eddie.

[bloodyredbluerose-blog]

Saizos confessions Ch III

WORNING: This chapter contains very graphic content, so continue at your own risk. Also if you are a sensitive person, do not , DO NOT read this chapter!

‘What a beautiful morning!' I thought to myself as I was wanting for your arrival. I don't know how but you always manage to find me, even now. I was on the lake side, admiring the view of the crystal water, if I looked closely I could almost see the fish swimming gracefully without a care in the world. The Sun was rising lazily, painfully slowly, to cascade it’s golden rays between the cracks of the mountains. The Red Lake was truly a wonderful sight, I spent a couple of hours just listening to the comforting sound of the silence with my eyes closed.

“It’s time, she is wanting for you at the Caffe Shop!” that sound, that voice I know oh so well, the possibilities to drag her next to me and do the things I want with her were endless, but now it’s not the time for that so I gave myself a mental shake to get rid of those thoughts.

“You are getting better at this little lady” I said with a bored tone, not opening my eyes to see her. She was sitting behind me, but if I turned around and see her , I know that all my control will be broken. It’s funny how she can turn me into butter after all these years.

“Shut your mouth, get your ass up and get going! The sooner you go the sooner you'll come back!” the tone in her voice was inviting, triggering my imagination, not in a good way, in a playful way.

“You are right little lady I’ll go now, but first….” I turned around with the intention to grab her and plant a kiss on her velvet lips but she was already gone. Woman you are tasting my patience! Left all alone again and with nothing to do, I too vanished in thin air and come to see you.

10 minutes later I found you in the shop, sitting alone at the table with your cellophane in hand. Judging from the look on your face, you were reading something you should not in a public place. Your cappuccino stood beside you, long forgotten and cold by this point. I went to place my order and came back to find you in the same position cheeks slightly flushed and lips patterned enough for me to slowly insert a cold finger between them. I wander what reaction I would manage to coax out of you with this gesture, but I reframed myself from such alluring action , instead I took a seat in front of you, enjoying my black coffee , the cute faces you were making and also enjoying the sweet sounds that were escaping your mouth from time to time. As they say 'All good thing must come to an end' and so did my coffee, I was wondering how much more time you were going to ignore me, I started to grew tired, in a blink I was up and behind you. I let my hands ghost over your exposed shoulders, the simple dress you were wearing leaved nothing to my imagination, it hugged your corves perfectly whit a cute flower pattern and a red ribbon in the middle to accentuate your waist. Cute. I land over and whispered in your ear

“Little ladys should be punished for making such lewd sounds in public! “

“Whaaa…..eeeek. ……where….how…..?”I gave you a low chuckle and returned to my seat in front of you.

“If only you will put away your phone for a few minutes and stop to take in the world around you, you will know!” I saw you turning a few shades of red before you put away your phone and mumbled an apology.

“So little lady, can we continue our story now?”

“To be honest I didn't expect to meet you here…”

“I’ll take my leave then!” just I was leaving your table, you sprung on your feet and grabbed my sleeve.

“Stay!”

“Ok little lady, let us begin. This happens 2 months after we returned to Kai. Life was simple enough, it started to become more of a routine for me and MC. When I wasn’t on a mission we would spend the day together, I’d help her with her daily duties , I’d tease her from time to time then we would stay the night together, you know… a bit of kissing, a bit of sex, a bit of teasing, that’s how life gone for us. She was happy this way, I was happy… One late night I was woke up by a familiar sound, careful not to wake MC , I eased myself from her grip and went outside, after I closed the door to our room Hanzo spoke

“ The elder has summoned you!”

“What is it this time?” I’d asked with a bored tone

“I don’t know…” it was rarely for him not to know things, this cannot be good. I went back inside to get changed, before leaving for my new mission I kneel beside MC and gave her a brief pick on her lips and murmured a low ‘I love you’ got up and started to go to the door again but something was tugging my leg. I looked down and saw MC hand

“Be careful!” it wasn't a plea it was an order.

“You know little lady, night time is…”

“Quiet time, now I’ll stop being so cute and put myself to sleep.” She took the words out of my mouth with a tender, welcoming smile.

“I’ll be back before you know it, little lady! “ with one last kiss on her lips I was gone. As expected Hanzo was waiting for me outside and we arrived at Iga village before sunrise and with no problems. Though the elder was very clear in his orders, I still had a bad feeling about it. The mission was even clearer, go to the woods, find the missing ninjas, bring them back, dead or alive. I didn't knew who they were but if they betrayed the village I was the one who will take their lives.

Soon enough I stumbled upon Yuki’s hide out in the forest, the place racked of death. What the hell had my sister done this time? I approached the door with caution and tried to open it but something was blocking it. A small box maybe, with little effort the door was opened and the sight was…. Well, let’s just say it wasn’t pretty. My eyes, my stomach and all my internal organs started twitching and turning. In this job I've seen it over and over, a corpse is a corpse . Under the wintry light of the woodland the corpse is utterly still and more than slightly frozen. He's been dead for sometime. Pool of blood that was almost dried and gave the room a sickly-sweet butcher shop odor. They lied like dolls over the wooden floor, limbs at awkward angles some of them missing and heads held in such a way that they cannot be sleeping. These bodies, once the repositories of people as alive as I am, are now abandoned shells left to rot in the open. Some will be consumed by the wildlife and others simply decay, slowly giving up their flesh to the soil and showing their white bones to the sun. Yuki was a woman capable of many things, but this… how can I describe exactly what I was seeing in that moment? Hmmm… rotting, decaying, dead, pallid, icy skin, ebony flesh, pale, grisly, tragic, lifeless, soulless, milky eyes staring blankly, bloody, silent, cruel, cold fingers forever trapped into a defensive fist, dead, masses of decomposing bodies carelessly piled atop each other, left to the flies and birds, heart-wrenching, departed, stiff, bloodless, breathless, cadaverous, haggard, ghastly, defunct bodies. Some of them were dead for at least for a couple of weeks some were fresh and some were flayed. That particular flayed body attract my attention, even in that state I was able to recognise it. Who in the world would be capable of such acction? Flaying was rare amongst ninjas, not even Yuki was able to master the technique perfectly so that excluded her from the equation. “

“Saizo! “

“Yes little lady. “ I looked at you and your face was full of concern and confusion. What could possibility be bothering you this time?

“W-what does flaying m-mmean?”

“Ok little lady, I guess it's not a common thing to hear this days so I’ll explain to you. Being skinned alive also known as "flaying" is first documented as happening around 800 BC, and it is used as a form of torture in just about every century since. While flaying is rarely seen nowadays, that doesn't make the concept any less horrifyingly fascinating. As you might expect, peeling the skin off of an entire human being is kind of a difficult task. Given this knowledge you may find that, when someone flays you, you're in for a bit of prep work first, to make the skinning easier.

Some cultures liked to warm up the skin, to loosen it from the muscles and make it more easy to peel off. Then the torture begins with some very specific and calculated cuts. In general, the first skin to be peeled off is that of the face; after that, your body has to be scored in various places to allow the skin to remove easily in one piece or at least, in as few pieces as possible. This involves relief cutting around the arms and wrists, the chest and neck, and sometimes the feet.

These cuts will not be incredibly deep, but they will extend through all the individual layers of skin, so as to reach the area between your skin and the muscle itself. This means you can expect horrifying amounts of pain. It is said that the sharper the knife used, the less painful it will be, so you'd better hope your torturers do regular maintenance on their blades.

When you are flayed, your skin is literally ripped off, not cut little by little. This ripping motion means that your nerve endings are not severed cleanly; instead, they are torn to shreds, one by one, in a long train of agony. You're going to feel your skin be pulled off your muscles, and you're going to feel your nerve endings dying. In other words, you're going to feel all of it.

Assuming you're hanging upside down, as is often the case, you'll see and feel the blood rushing past your face and onto the ground, and it'll be coming from all over your body. Not exactly a great thing to see as you feel someone peeling the skin off your entire body. When the brain is faced with extreme pain and stress, it begins to release chemicals to counteract these negative feelings. Some of these chemicals are called endorphins, and they help to transmit electrical signals throughout the body. They act similarly to morphine, numbing you and giving you a feeling of happiness. Of course, these feelings probably won't be enough to even slightly counteract the horror and agony of the experience, but at least your brain is trying. In some cases of flaying, people only take an outer layer, and in other cases, they even take some of the flesh underneath the skin, as well. In other words, you had better hope your torturers are doing it right, or else the pain could last much longer than expected. One question some people raise is whether you could survive after being flayed. The answer is that you unequivocally could not. Although it might not seem like it, your skin is one of your vital organs. It keeps out infection, protects your muscles and blood, and acts as an overall barrier between you and the elements. What's more, you can only regrow so much skin so fast, and when you are flayed, much more is taken away than your body can possibly replace. So, exactly how long are you going to stay alive during and after being flayed? Unfortunately, this is rarely a quick death. It's true that some people die from shock or blood loss within hours, and many lose consciousness so they don't have to experience the rest of the pain. But more likely, you'll be awake and aware throughout the entire ordeal, and may last a while even afterwards. There are reports of people surviving hours and even several days after being skinned alive, presumably in excruciating agony the entire time.

In these cases, it is not actually blood loss that proves fatal. If you survive a day of being skinless, infection and hypothermia are going to get to you. Your blood may turn septic, or you may just be unable to keep yourself warm enough to survive. Either way, you'd be better off wishing for a quick death from shock - or just wishing for literally any method of torture other than flaying.”

One look at you made me realize that maybe I shouldn't have said these things to you. Your beautiful face now was wiled eyed, bewildered, hands over mouth, nostrils flaring, blood drained from face, mouth opening and shutting like a goldfish with no sound coming out, still as a statue, ridged as a board, face stuck in an incredulous expression, unblinking stare, shaking head in disbelief, sent reeling backwards, brain desperately scrambling to make sense of it all, rendered speechless, temporarily incapacitated, stood as if paralyzed from the neck up, gibbering nonsense, unable to comprehend what had just occurred, stood as gormlessly as a guppy.

It made me feel bad for doing this to you, I always tend to forget that I’m in an era with less terror and suffering. I need to choose my next words carefully, but what can I say in order to not damage you any more than I already did?

While I was chewing over the situation I could sense you moving, neither you didn't knew what to say from the looks at it. Then you stood up and bowed deeply,

“I-I….. sorry I got to go. Do you think, that is if you …… I mean…” it was almost amusing seeing you stumbled over your words but I know what you intend to say.

“Sure little lady, we will continue this some other time.” I assured you with a kind smile. The next second you were gone ‘Kids these days, always in a hurry’ Left alone once again I decided to return to the Red Lake, at least there was some peace and quiet, so I too, took my leave.

Once out of the shop I navigate by intersection and aromas. Otherwise it would be impossible to know where I am. I move along in the thick crowd, mostly several inches to a foot shorter than everyone else. I can't see the bright shop signs, or the buildings to orient me - only backpacks, coats and hair. I am frequently jostled, but then I don't weigh much more than a child. With the smell of coffee I know I need to turn right next and start to weave my way over. The crowd parts around a newspaper dispenser but I fail and am instead left smooshed up against it for a few moments, my smart cream suit brushing up against the traffic dirtied glass. Unlike a child there is no Mom or Dad to pull me away and instead I must inch sideways until once again I am in the current. I veer into the next street to the aroma of samosas. If I can get close enough I'll buy a few to take home. But I can't see the cart, once again I am adrift in the moving bodies... After a few more agonizing minutes, the labyrinth called city, came to a halt and before me I could see a mass of green land with patches of trees here and there, it's really fascinating how urban environment can be combined with the rural one. As my feet took me closer to the lake, my brain screamed to me to turn around and run like there is no tomorrow. Only one person could gave me this feeling, and she was right there, the one that haunted me in every dream since I was only but a kid, the one that braked all my walls no matter how many times I build them up again...She was the kind of girl that women loved to hate. She was an adult but so young that she still had the exuberance of youth. She had that movie star look, not overly tall and willowy, but more like an action star. Her muscle definition was perfect and she walked with the confidence of someone a decade older. She wasn't just flawless in her bone structure, her skin was like silk over glass and she radiated an intelligent beauty.

When I close enough she sat down and patted her lap, I took her silent invitation and rest my head on her knees.

“Idiot! Now you’ve gone and done it!” the venom in her words was more damaging than any other poison that I had ingested. While her left hand was combing thru my silver hair I took her right one, gave it a kiss and than placed it where my heart used to be, that’s a story for another time.

“ I got carried away, next time I’ll do better.”

“if there is a ‘next time’”

“There will be!”

I pushed myself onto my elbows and kissed her-really kissed her. It was more than just a precursor to sex. There was no war between our mouths. My hips rested lightly beneath hers, not pressed tightly. Our lips moved in soft, perfect harmony with each other. This time it meant something. What that something was, I didn’t know , but I knew that there was a real connection between us. Her hands stroked gently through my hair, my thumb grazing her cheek and it didn’t feel sick or twisted or unnatural. Actually, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. No rush. This time things were slow and earnest. This time I wasn’t looking for an escape. This time it was about her. About me. About honesty and compassion.