#my kid’. Choosing babies basically and not much else. And this one girl was getting teased so we invited her over and she sat in my step

[zappedbywho]

.

[words-4u]

don’t shut me out

pairing: jordan li x f!reader

wc: 750

a/n: i combined the two requests bc they felt kinda similar but i hope you guys enjoy <3

(NOTE: your super power is the ability to transform into any animal you want)

you stared at the last message you sent jordan.

to j 💗 i miss u. text me when u see this pls

you had sent that text at 8 pm last night and it was almost noon the next day and you still hadn't heard back from them. sighing deeply, you locked your phone, stuffing it in to your backpack.

is it me? did i do something? you thought.

it might seem over the top reacting this way but jordan is so communicative especially at night so it was off brand for them to go ghost like this. you were going through the different possibilities in your head as walked the god u campus to get to your next class, you had almost missed your friend calling your name.

“hey, y/n!” 

you looked up and saw cate beckoning you over to a table she’s at with andre.

“hey guys,” you said with no excitement which the blonde found weird.

“did your cat die or something? what’s up?” she asked patting the seat in between her and andre.

you huffed and set your bag on the table and your head on andre’s shoulder.

“okay this is gonna sound so stupid but i’ve been texting jordan all night and all morning today and i haven’t heard so much as a peep from them. i know the messages are going through, i just don't know why they're ignoring me”

“oh y/n. you haven’t heard,” andre begins. ”jordan’s parents are in town. we don’t know much about them but we know they are jordan’s least favourite topic.”

“i mean they’ve told me the basics but…” you trail off.

if their parents are in town then that explain why they’ve been so hard to reach. jordan's parents have never understood them and always made them feel ashamed of their powers which is ridiculous because they are ones who’ve injected their kid with compound V.

"guys i’ve got to go,” you said grabbing your bags and transforming into an eagle, flying off to jordan's student accommodation.

you knock rapidly on your partner’s door, once you arrived. “jordan, open up!”

silence.

you grabbed your vphone out of your bag and checked the “find my” app. “i can literally see that you’re in there so either you open this door and let me in or i turn into a snake and slither in… your choice.”

you hear some metal clanging and something unlocked and in a second you were faced with your gorgeous significant other who looked like they have been crying their eyes out.

no words needed to be said between you before you dropped your bag and pulled them into your arms, rocking them side to side.

you let a few moments pass before you spoke. “why didn't you just tell me?”

“i’m sorry,” they said pulling away. “i fall into this pit of self hatred when my parents come around.”

you guided them to the bed and played with their fingers as you shared your thoughts. “you know i thought you were ignoring cause i might've done something to piss you off or something…”

“no, baby” they whispered. “it’s not you. like at all. it’s them. they… they’ve never accepted my full powers. the girl version anyway. to my parents, i’m their golden boy and nothing else. i came to god u and swore that i would never feel ashamed of myself and would never be forced to choose one gender like my parents desperately want.”

“that’s a lot to carry by yourself, jord,” you move their short black bob out of their face and tuck it behind their ear. “i’m here if you ever need to talk. about any of it.”

“i know,” they smiled softly.

“and for what it’s worth i like…all of you,” you confessed which made jordan put on their sexy grin that you fell for.

“is that right? and which parts of me do you like?” they asked switching to their male form and placing you on their lap.

“hmm now that i think about it, i actually can’t remember,” you stroked your chin jokingly.

“how about i make you remember?” they replied, capturing your lips in an over due kiss. you breathe them in as you run your hands through their short hair.

you pulled away still holding their face in your hands. “promise to tell me when things bother you, big or small okay? i don’t want you to shut me out.”

jordan nodded, whispering, “i promise,” before kissing you once more.

[what-gs-watching]

“Saving people, hunting things…the family business.”

Alright. We’re gonna do it. We’re gonna talk about Supernatural. We can’t talk about ALL of Supernatural, that would be ridiculous, but it deserves a comfort show spotlight. 

I’m going to admit it: I resisted for a long time. My husband used to stream a shit ton of tv, he needed something to fall asleep to, so in the past I’ve groggily slept through random episodes. And I didn’t really care about it. 

I remember when it came out, I loved Jared from Gilmore Girls naturally but I never got into it. Honestly, I was really annoyed there was a character named Dean that wasn’t Jared, I’m a fickle bitch. 

So it was whatever. But again, I lost all sense of everything during the pandemic and started binging. I went through all of the X-Files (even the newer seasons, I did it all, it was a thing). I went insane  watching Fringe. I was devastated when I lost Peter Bishop, aka perfect New England boyfriend. And then Netflix really started flinging Supernatural at me. Like, really hard.

Last December, I was already spiraling with my job a bit, I can see that now. I was tired. And I needed something else to get lost in. TV was literally the only thing I had energy for.  And there were 15 fucking seasons. That’s too many seasons. So I begrudgingly gave in, and I started it.

Y’all know what it’s all about: two brothers, Sam and Dean, are hunters (of monsters) because their mother was murdered by a demon when Sam was just a baby, and their father, John, couldn’t let it go. So he packed the boys up for life on the road, hunting the thing that had ruined his family, thrusting his kids onto a path they did not choose. 

And I’m gonna be honest, I fought the whole way. I really did. I kept asking my husband what the eff was up with Sam and Dean. Just…why? I kept shouting at the screen that the two of them needed boundaries. But I also kept watching. I like a good Monster of the Week. And I’m a weirdo for overarching storylines. I like the lore, I do. Secret nerd, me.

And like I said, there’s no real way to talk about ALL of Supernatural, but that’s okay because  it’s really about the little things for me. 

_

The brotherness of it all Does Sam and Dean’s absolute and unwavering dedication to each other drive me nuts a little bit? Yes. They make so many stupid decisions to save each other - Sam with the demon blood, Dean selling his soul to save Sam, Dean with the mark, Sam jumping into the cage with Lucifer. There are literally probably hundreds of examples. It’s exasperating.

Dean thinks his entire existence is meant to protect Sam, I get it, he was conditioned that way, and Dean is basically the only thing Sam has left in the world, so it’s mostly mutual (except for that whole purgatory situation, he really didn’t try at ALL to find him? C’mon) but it’s also heartbreaking. John fucked up their lives, that dude was driven by the singular thought of avenging his wife, when he had a six month old and a four year old to take care of? Like, she’s dead my dude, but you have these two little fragile things you’re supposed to take care of and protect and foster, and this is the route you take? Fuck, man. I can’t imagine going through that.

Creating your own family Which leads me to Bobby. Crotchety, kind, beleaguered Bobby. Those boys needed an actual father figure and this weirdo stepped up so perfectly. He encouraged them and tried to guide them with a gentle hand - he knew those idjits would fuck it all up but he went along with them as much as he could, playing that parent game of trying to let them make their own choices as long as it wouldn’t destroy them. The episode where he’s fighting his reaper, trying to get away, and his last memory is an innocuous movie night with Sam and Dean? Tragic and sweet. I’m still mad my boy Bobby was done dirty, dying during one of the worst seasons (Leviathans, am I right?) but I appreciate their grief over losing him was real.

On the topic, I also have to say that I love the people Sam and Dean end up pulling into their orbit. Charlie was a fucking delight, and her bond with Dean was so pure; she was the little sister he never had and you can tell he let her in right away. When she says “I love you” and he just says “I know” it’s as far as Dean can go and it’s just good. I don’t think I could have forgiven Sam for getting her killed in a stupid plan he purposely kept from Dean. She agreed to help because she wanted to save her brother and she got murdered for it. Good deeds don’t go unpunished, gang.

Also, Jodie and Donna. In a show that doesn’t really seem to care about women at all, you get two badasses that can hold their own and won’t take any shit, and Sam and Dean acknowledge how strong they are. Out of all of the random spinoffs they tried over the years, theirs is the one I would have preferred to get lost in. 

And, I’m gonna say it, Jack. I was ready to hate that little antichrist but he charmed the hell out of me. Mostly because of the ‘three men and a baby’ vibe, Dean and Sam and Castiel trying to rear that sweet summer child away from destroying absolutely everything and eventually, really really succeeding. I might be in the minority, but it was really satisfying. Jack is my babe, I’ll shout that shit from the rooftops.

Castiel Castiel is a whole thing, I know. And I love it. He gets his own category. 

Sweet, complicated Castiel. I have a special place in my heart for Cas. And it’s not entirely because of the whole Destiel situation. That crazy angel had a big ol’ character arch and I truly appreciate it. Hated him in the beginning, and then that whole “assbutt” moment happened and he turned away from heaven and the great plan and toward humanity. And then a lot more drama, trying to rule in heaven and the leviathans, ending up as a human for a bit, his whole thing with Metraton, etc. 

But Cas is important because Dean is long-suffering, always the one to lose and make the hard (sometimes stupid) choices and he’s so resigned to his fate but Castiel is the buoy in all that. He’s the only one fully committed to Dean. The episode where Dean forgets who he is and he stands in front of a mirror repeating ‘Sam is your brother, Cas is your best friend’ - of all the things Dean is and needs to remember, that’s important. Castiel raised him from perdition, searing him with the mark of his grip. They’re bonded.

I really love that Castiel gets to be his own thing a part from the boys,  he grows so fucking much, but he’s also always Dean’s anchor. No matter how you feel about Destiel and the implications, the fact that Cas comes to understand humanity enough to say that just telling someone you love them without that being returned can be the best moment of your life, can be true happiness, is really something. Sometimes that is enough. Getting out of your own way can be enough.

I clearly have a thing for angels that can be a little bit of a bastard. I will ALWAYS root for Castiel.

Baby I’m not sure why I’m so charmed by the dedication to Baby, but I love it. It appeals to a very specific aesthetic in me. Of course that’s the kind of car they roll around in, perfectly old and beautiful, all sharp black lines and power and time. It’s Dean’s dedication to the family business and one of their only constants. He teaches Sam how to care for her, and he rebuilds her over and over. He even manages to pick her out in the first place, eventually. It’s sweet that Baby is home. She’s the heart, gang. Solid, strong, broken over and over again but always persisting.

The universe One of the best pieces of Supernatural is the universe it creates for itself. How adamant they’d been in the beginning that yeah of course demons exist, but God definitely doesn’t, but the random other gods found in lore throughout history do. It's so easy to change a universe that draws a line in the sand, and it just keeps getting bigger and more complex and silly and reckless. 

I love the little touches. The fact that there’s a Supernatural book series, with an underground fan base enough to host a con (though I don’t want to get into the Chuck of it all, I’m still absolutely irate over all of that). Sam and Dean being so utterly embarrassed by them is hilarious, but it’s a way for them to get the recognition they deserve, even if it’s through fiction. People love those books, their story, and even if they never get thanked in real life, there are people out there believing in them. 

I mean, the all girls’ school musical? Absolute perfection. That episode was meant to be a love letter to the entire thing, and it’s so perfect. Sam wonders why it isn’t “Samstiel”, and Dean is upset to learn about BM scenes, aka boy melodrama. The song girl-Cas sings, I’ll just wait here then… and their stripped down version of the boys’ unofficial anthem. It makes my tween heart sing, it satisfies my cravings for all things meta (jesus I’m basic). It’s just warmth and love and appreciation.

Frenemies AKA, unlikely and this-is-a-stupid-fucking-idea allies. All good shows need this. Crowley was never a true favorite of mine, but I appreciate that he saw how valuable keeping a tenuous relationship with the Winchesters could be. And I will still always and forever laugh at the fact that Dean was in his phone as ‘Not Moose’. One of my absolute favorite gags. Those two are perfectly Moose and Squirrel. His affection for the two of them proving that demons can be a little bit human, too. But that doesn’t get him off the hook for convincing Dean to take on the mark, even though I secretly enjoy their bromance once he does become a demon. Sometimes you need to have that friend you secretly kind of hate a little because they’re a dick,  but they’re useful.

(Side rant: the Crowley/Crowley situation between Supernatural and Good Omens is making my brain bleed, I can’t make myself say it differently enough in my mind for there to be a good enough distinction because y’all, one is an obvious smash and one is an obvious pass. I’m just sayin’. It’s making it difficult to yell at the tv…)

Also. Rowena also falls into this category. Again, another strong woman in a room full of idiot men, holding her own. I’ve been that woman a lot of times, surrounded by boys who just can’t get their shit together and you stand and you watch and you help or hurt when you can, because at the end of the day. you need to be out for yourself. I respect the fuck out of her for looking out for herself. She was world weary because she had to be, she lived through hundreds of years of oppression and she was gonna get what was hers, but by the end, she came around to those boys. She’s the friend you keep at a distance because you’re never sure what the fuck they’re gonna do, but you can appreciate her seeming unpredictability because sometimes she uses it to help you, or thrust some unfortunate truth at you that you need to hear.

_

The point is:  all of these little random things amount to something absurd and funny and gruesome and welcoming and silly and strange. And I could probably write ten different posts like this, pulling out more things that make Supernatural what it is, and that’s what makes it so all-encompassing. 

So. I spent four months watching this show. Every day, some ridiculous Sam and Dean adventure. What were they gonna get up to? I never knew, but it was reassuring  to know they’d always get out of it. It was my main comfort, and four months is a really long time.  

When I got to the end of it, I was mired in yet another ridiculous work emergency and everything about me was fried. I was raw, fraying ends. So when I watched the finale, I sobbed. Like, really sobbed. Trying to take breaths I couldn’t quite make deep enough, while Dean was driving Baby and they were playing ‘Carry On My Wayward Son’. The episode ended and I kept crying. I went and found my husband and just cried at his face. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever watched the end of it or not and I tried pathetically to explain why I was crying so hard. I cried for everything that I was. It broke a dam I’d been holding in.  And I felt stupid for it, who gives that much of a fuck about a show about hunting monsters?

But  it wasn’t necessarily about the show, I mean it was a little bit, but it was also about me and whatever the fuck I was going through. And that’s what content is for. I’d wrapped myself in a Sam-and-Dean blanket for months to try and blunt a bunch of things, but they brought those things up to the surface anyway. 

Feeling the real emotion of things through fake things. Is it healthy? Probably not, but it’s an art form, it’s a coping mechanism. I was crying about software and work melodrama and life frustration (can I still claim to be having a quarter life crisis if I’m in my 30s?), but also about Dean dying on the job in the way he’d always assumed he would, about Sam’s kid having the same tattoo, about Bobby being there at the end, about Sam being there at the end. It’s just easier that way.

All that to say, I can’t recommend the Sam-and-Dean blanket enough. It’s cozy and it’s sprawling and ridiculous and complete. I put it down for a month before yet another stupid thing happened to rattle me (so many things this year), and I knew right away where I needed to go. Back to the blanket. Which means I’m in the middle of my second watch. And I’m pretty sure, that at any point in time in the future, I’ll be in the middle of some rotation of it, even if I go off for months at a time. It’ll always be in the queue, because I know when I need it, there’ll always be an adventure I'm sure Sam and Dean will get out of.

[fallin-flowers]

A little update I’m a parent of two now I have a baby girl who just turned one last month!  I never understood the loneliness that I parents felt until now. I’m basically a single parent. Yeah we live together but we’re basically just roommates so I do a lot of things by myself just me and my kids. Am starting to feel the loneliness of being a single mother.  I love my kids more than life itself but it’s hard constantly doing it by myself even harder when you know there’s somebody else there that can help you but they choose not to for whatever reason I’m done trying to understand him and make excuses for him. If he wanted to he would, What I constantly remind myself anytime he’s not doing things with us or going places with us if he wanted to he would no more excuses. I used to be angry and resentment. Now it’s just turning into sadness for my kids sake their father isn’t present even though he lives under the same roof, he puts no effort in. And it’s not my job to encourage him to get involved. I’m getting pretty tired of it, though. I want a partner who is involved and present and who wants to do things with us. I don’t think that’s too much to ask for. Why do I always pick these men that are emotionally unavailable? I’m so over it. 



[jacobklee]

He wouldn't call himself an overachiever, — although he really was — but more like... he didn't want to give the Lees any reason to doubt having taken him under their wings and welcoming him into their family. Chey knew Jake from way back... from when he was still with the Chois. She had been the sister he'd never had, and that, after being welcomed into a new family, added more to his character, so she knew how hard he worked to make sure he didn't give his parents any trouble (whether his biological parents or his adoptive ones).

"Yeah, that little girl has me wrapped around her little finger and you know what?" He leaned in close, as if to tell Chey a secret. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Jacob had always wanted a family. He had begged the Chois for siblings and ended up as the oldest of five — six, if he considered how close he was to Cheyenne. As he grew up, he found himself desiring that little baby Dilan was carrying in her womb. Although things didn't work out the way Jacob wanted them to, he would give this little girl all the love and affection, so that she never doubted just how much daddy loved her. "It's weird though... to think about it. I think I was meant to be a daddy's girl. I mean, I am surrounded by incredible women..." He smirked, giving the young professor a small nudge as they walked. "She's five-months-old, by the way. And you bet your ass she's not going to settle for anything less than greatness. There will be no mediocre love in her life." Not if it were up to him, of course.

He could see The Teacher's Lounge appearing in the distance as Chey mentioned being scarily well. He knew the feeling. The anxiety that came after rising from a painful fall, the picking up the pieces, the everything. "Hey..." He gently nudged her chin up to make her look at him. "You know it's okay to be to feel okay, right?" Although Jacob might not have gone through the same hardships that Cheyenne had, he understood. He understood being in pain. "Not everything has to be hard, kid. You deserve to feel happy about this." He wanted to add that what had happened was in the past, but he didn't want to seem insensitive, especially when that wasn't the reason why he would say this. "They say the first trimestre is the worst, right? You've got people looking out for you... so, you know... let us." With that, Jake pressed a kiss on the side of her head, and then let go of her so he could job towards the door of the Teachers' Lounge and push it open for her.

Getting old being a privilege sounded like something his dad would say, and the memory of Paul Lee brought a faint smile to his lips as the investor helped Chey out of the jacket he'd brought her, then proceeded to unbutton his own coat and undo the scarf around his neck. "I wouldn't mind you setting me up on a few dates. I mean, I trust you more than I trust the girls or even my mom on these things." He shrugged. His mother had set him up on a date with someone the other day and the person had basically stolen his thermal bottle, which, he only realized when he got home and the bottle wasn't in his car anymore... it was definitely there when he drove from the restaurant to the woman's place. "Just... not anyone younger than twenty-five, okay? I'm not DiCaprio." He teased while flipping the laminated menu towards his female companion so she could choose what to order.

"As for my birthday, we could do something on Wednesday? Selvi's sleeping with me on the 30th. Unless you'd like me to bring her?" But if she was planning on having more people over, then it'd be the best if his daughter wasn't around. The idea of doing something for his birthday though seemed really nice. Some grown-ups dinner at someone else's house. Sounded very adult for two scrawny kids who had been through hell and back in their childhood. "But, I can cook. You know... make your favorite, since I'm obviously your favorite." Again, he joked. It went without saying that Jake actually loved cooking. It helped him distract himself and empty his mind, especially after a long day, and doing it to others really did wonders to his humor. "Is Max allergic to anything?" He knew about Chey's preferences and limitations to when it came to food, but her partner's he hadn't a chance to memorize just yet.

The way her eyes lit up at the mention of the tattoo artist also brought a smile to Jacob's lips. He hadn't seen miss Cheyenne O'Hara smile like that in so long. It was an actual relief. You know... smiling, making plans, being happy... leaving the heaviness that he family usually brought...

"You know..." He began, after having placed an order for what they were eating and drinking that early-afternoon. "It's really good to see you smile like that. I can't even remember the last time I've seen you this happy." The investor reached over and grabbed her hand, giving it a light squeeze before letting go of it. "I hope you know that you deserve to feel this way, Chey. That this kid is going to have one hell of loving parents. Not to mention, the nicest, coolest uncle around." He smirked, pointing to himself. "And a best friend to be attached to the hip, like we are." Insecurities happened... it was impossible not to think about what could happen or what would happen... but Jake would be there to help her through it. Max too, of course. "And I'm sure Little Star is looking down on your two, making sure that everything ends up well this time. So... you know... allow yourself to be happy about it. It's a sweet moment. Enjoy it." / @cheyohara

Hazel playfully rolled at Jake's words, "of course you didn't you overachiever." The jest was only in good humor as she'd always felt close enough to him to be herself, and one of the things most didn't expect from the mousey professor was that she could roll with the best of them when it came to witty remarks and sarcasm.

How else did she hold up during all of those pub nights?

It'd been too long since she'd been able to spend any real solid time with her old friend, and the podcaster has certainly missed him a great deal. In some ways he felt like an extension to her, Jake was that embedded into her life.

"She's not even that old," a laugh bubbled up her delicate throat. "Love that she's already got you wrapped around your finger that much." It was something she was eager to see with Max when their own child came into the world, to see how he'd take to fatherhood. The professor knew he'd be a natural and an amazing dad. Just like how her dear friend had shown up to be. "How big is she now?"

Another smile decorated Chey's lips and those hazel eyes rolled once more. "She can never love anyone the way she loves her daddy. So be good to that baby girl," without a doubt she knew he would be, "you're gonna be the big example of how she loves herself and accepts love from others. Set that bar high." Chey squeezed him tight and shifted out of her office as they began their quest for some grub.

"We're past the first trimester. Things are going scarily well." Since the moment the brunette had found out she and Max had been gifted another chance she'd been a nervous wreck, but she was now beginning to settle. The horrific memories of early summer last year not far from thought. "You can start buying them things. We don't know the sex of the baby yet..."

As they made their way out of the building, the professor listened to her friend share his updates on his life. Naturally, some ideas sprang to life in her mind. "So you're not of the idea that growing older is a privilege?" A nudge from her body into his, "how would you feel about me setting you up on a date? Maybe even two..." Remi and Lena had come to mind, though the veterinarian had a child of her own and she could see more compatibility there. Both were a smokeshow so Jacob would make out well.

"Aside from that thought— we're definitely gonna do something for your birthday. Even if it something more chill at my house." Because the brunette wasn't drinking now and wouldn't be for some time, going out to some of her favorite scenes just weren't the same. "Could even invite one or two of those beautiful ladies..."

When they made it to the cafeteria Chey pushed the door open and wrapped her arm around his once they were inside. "I'm doing fairly good. The morning sickness was really easy this time and we're starting to set up the baby's room. We're painting a tribute to Little Star," the one they'd lost, "onto one of the walls." At the mention of her partner's name, her smile spread quick and easy. "He's great. I'm so lucky," she beamed at her dear friend. / @jacobklee

[itsallyscorner]

I was wondering if you can write something about reader x marvel cast where they go on the tour bus with James Corden. Maybe reader is dating a costar (you can choose who)

💌

We Are Avengers

Pairing: Marvel cast x reader, Sebastian Stan x Fem!reader

Summary: Basically what happens during James Corden’s Star Star Tour😌

Warnings: None :)

Hello darling, thank you for the request! I apologize that it took so long for me to write, but I’ve been busy with school and I’ve been lacking motivation in general. But thank you so much for this request, it gave me the chance to rewatch one of my favorite Marvel cast videos so thank you for that as well, it never fails to make me smile. I hope you don’t mind that I chose Seb as the co-star you’re dating! Also, yes, I know I’ve been writing a lot of headcanons but writing this as a headcanon seems like the best way to write it for me😭 I’m gonna add in some pictures that the cast took with their disposable cameras, so enjoy😉

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(GIF from Pinterest)

✧───── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

When it was mentioned that you and some other members of the Infinity War cast were going to be on James Corden, you were very excited.

You enjoyed making appearances on late night talk shows; Jimmy Fallon, Jimmy Kimmel—they were always fun to be on. Though you’ve always loved making appearances on James Corden’s show.

When you first heard about being on The Late Late Show, you were expecting to do a typical interview in the studio that would lead to playing a game later on in the show.

What you didn’t expect was to be led out to the parking lot with the rest of the cast, only to be greeted by a double decker bus with James’ face plastered alongside it.

At first you were all a bit confused but one of the producers came up to you all and explained the segment you were all filming.

Everyone was buzzing with exhilaration waiting to get on the bus. One by one you were called up, you being paired with Sebastian.

Wait, he would make you go up the stairs first so he can stay behind you, making sure you don’t fall. Omg and he would place his hand on your lower back too😭🥺

“Wow—Marvel’s own power couple, it’s such an honor to have you both on here. Thank you for coming!” James greeted the both of you. Partially acting because the cameras were rolling.

You and Sebastian beamed at him, proud of the title the fans and your cast mates have given you both over the years. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, James.”

James gives you both your name tags, pausing mid way while he was handing Seb his. James’ gaze shifts between you and Seb, “I’m sorry, you’re just both so beautiful.”

Seb bashfully thanks him, pulling you towards the seats, as you giggle behind him.

You and Seb sit towards the back, behind Don and Tom.

You all sit tight, talking amongst yourselves as you wait for the bus to start. In the seats were disposable cameras and some Late Late Show merch.

The bus hasn’t started driving yet, but you were all having too much fun with the disposable cameras.

Everyone was just taking pictures of each other. You and Seb took a couple selfies and some stolen shots of the others, mostly Anthony.

You even got a cute shot of Don and Tom:

Yes I know they used disposable cameras but I decided to tie in my ‘Polaroid’ series into this even though they’re not using Polaroids—just go with it😭

Being the more social one in the relationship, you were going up and down the aisle talking to everyone.

Seb stayed towards the back with Anthony and Winston. While you were at the front talking to Lizzie and Chris.

Being sad when you were all told to go sit down because you had to leave Lizzie.

Though it probably wasn’t shown in the video, I just KNOW that the filming for this segment was chaotic as fuck.

Chaotic in a good way.

But the whole bus was loud I just know it.

You could hear Mackie across from you talking loudly and laughing that contagious laugh of his.

You, Lizzie, Pom, and Zoe attempting to talk to each other from different spots on the bus over everyone else’s voice.

Chris and Paul can also be heard laughing all the way from the back.

James feeling like a parent because it felt like he was babysitting a bunch of toddlers.

The whole thing was freaking chaotic from the start, I mean ya’ll started the ‘tour’ with Benedict and Chris rubbing sunscreen on James’ legs.

Everyone passing around the sunscreen after, because it was sunny as hell and no one thought of wearing sunscreen.

Seb being a cheeky asshole and ‘accidentally’ smearing sunscreen across your face.

“Sebastian!” You gasped before a flash of light went off on you. When your eyes recovered from the flash you see Seb holding up a camera at you, snickering to himself.

James began to act as your guide, pointing out things like a coffee shop and explaining what it is.

All of you being childish and pretending to not know what a coffee shop or what a line is.

Laughing at Don when he got out of his seat and took a picture of the coffee shop. Like how he got into an over exaggerated position just to take a picture was funny.

Everyone being childish and acting as actual tourist in Los Angeles. Like pointing things out and asking about them or taking pictures of literally everything you drove by.

When Reggie Watts began that sing along thing everyone joined in, bopping and dancing along to the beat.

Like you guys are just having a really great time, happy to be in each other’s presence.

You could hear Sebby singing along to Reggie beside you, and you couldn’t help but just adore him singing and having fun.

He’d notice your stare, he may have had sunglasses on, but you could see the crinkle of his eyes from behind his sunglasses as he smiled at you.

“Na, na, na, na, na, na!” Seb repeated, leaning towards you to press a kiss on your temple.

Throughout the whole ride, he’d have his arm along the back of your seat or have it across your lap.

After the sing along, James went back to acting as a tour guide. He pointed to a red building—whatever it was—and deemed it as “Barbra Streisand’s holiday home”.

Josh Brolin, who was sat along at the back of the deck, raised his hand. “Excuse me! I—uh don’t mean to interrupt, but I have to use the bathroom. Can I use the bathroom?”

James pretending to cringe and telling him that in order to use the bathroom you have to be in three or more Marvel movies to use the bathroom—end credits don’t count.

Everyone being childish once again and yelling “OHHHHHHH!” Like a bunch of school kids.

James points to Tom, “Tom Hiddleston do you need the bathroom?”

Tom, with his soft voice and a small shrug says, “I’m actually okay!”

James then points to you and Seb, “My lovebirds at the back, Sebastian, (Y/n), do either of you need the bathroom?”

You and Seb glance at each other, “Nah we’re good.” Your boyfriend answers.

“Yeah, I used the bathroom before we came here.” You look behind your shoulder at Josh, a smug expression on your face, “Unlike some people.”

Josh flipping you off while everyone laughs at him.

Since Anthony and Seb aren’t sitting together, I just know that Anthony would be yelling at Seb from across the bus to get his attention.

No seriously, I saw them in the background of the video and even heard Mackie yelling lmao😭😂

“(Y/n) call Sebastian!” Anthony yelled at you from across the bus, pointing to the man beside you with a grin on his face.

You chuckle and nudge Seb, “Your boyfriend’s calling you.”

Seb would shake his head at you and turn his attention to Anthony; who just wanted to take a picture of Seb from his side of the bus.

James trying to get spoilers out of all of you but thankfully you all aren’t Tom Holland or Mark Ruffalo.

“Does anyone on this bus die in the next Avengers?” James asked. Suddenly you were all quiet, not a word coming out of any of you.

Until Paul began to scream his infamous line, “snITCHES END UP IN DITCHES!”

Getting confused when James suddenly asked the bus to stop and ran off the bus.

Next thing you know, you’re all hopping off the bus and walking into a comic store with a Spider-Man statue at the front.

Seb motioned to the statue and looked back and Anthony, “We gotta get a picture with that.”

Anthony instantly agreeing—he was willing to do anything to tease Tom Holland.

Seb’s not that huge with PDA, but he always needs to be touching you. So he’ll be interlocking your hands with his the moment you walk off the bus and all the way into the comic store.

Feeling thrilled to surprise the people who were shopping at the store.

You all walked around, mingled with some fans, taking selfies with them, and signed a few things.

You were looking at some Funko Pops with Lizzie when you felt a small tap on your leg.

You looked down to see a small girl looking up at you with wide eyes full of admiration. In her tiny hands was a Funko Pop of your character.

You and Lizzie instantly coo at the toddler, crouching down to her level so you can talk.

“Hey, sweetheart!” You greet her, taken back when she suddenly wraps her arms around you into a hug. You laugh wrapping your arms around her small figure and hugging her back.

“I love you so much!” She squeals into your ear, arms tightening around you. Your heart swelled as she excitedly babbled about how much she loved your character and how you were her favorite.

“I love you too! Oh my gosh, you’re so cute!” You decide to carry the toddler, who you later learned was named Lila. Her parents scolded her for distracting you from the other fans in the store, but you brushed them off, your attention focused on your tiny fan.

You carried her around while you met other fans and signed more comic books and merch.

You even introduced her to your other cast mates.

Sebastian’s heart absolutely melting at the sight of you with a baby.

Homie wants to wife you up one day and seeing you with a baby made his baby fever sky rocket.

“Lila, this is Sebastian! You know who he plays right?” You ask the toddler in your arms. Sebastian ducking a bit so he could hear her over the commotion in the store.

“Yeah, he’s the wiener soldier!” She replied. Both you and Seb had to hold back your laughs at her answer.

Lila bragging about how she loves you more than Sebastian.

Seb having to agree because he doesn’t wanna make a toddler cry.

Before you all left, you took pictures with Lila and her parents and signed a bunch of her merch.

^ the boys got their picture.

You guys get back on the bus only to come back to rolls of paper under your seats.

You all sang the “Avengers” song, singing screaming the lyrics dramatically.

Don and Anthony bringing on the vocals.

Before you guys get off the bus you all take a selfie together.

Leaving Chris Hemsworth on the bus and walking off the bus with your heart all warm and fuzzy because you had an amazing time with your boyfriend and your friends :)

This is so long holy shit

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

🏷 Tags ↴

*if there’s a line through your username, Tumbr won’t let me tag you*

Marvel Cast/ Avengers Tags

↪︎ @ximaginx @lozzypoz321 @sunwardsss @pokemonbong @pjokotlcmarvel201 @whoslili @111111111111111sblog @marvel-is-a-mood @blckyungblood @astroponyo @universemarvel @imthebadguyyy @roseke @bi-myself-forever @httpscarletwitch @millenniumloki @cristin-rjd @swords-are-cool @melaninfalconbucky @deamus-liv @elvish-sky @catsandbooksandsstuff @ellajoy419 @moonlight-babe99

Sebastian Stan Tags

↪︎ @theresnoplatypus @wintersoldierlover @peacelovehobbitness @milea @sunwardsss @thedenimjacket @roserose26

General Tags

↪︎ @quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @agustdowney @bi-lmg @rqmanoff @sesamepancakes @stardustofreading @dracoswhore007 @swiftmind

[spine-buster]

To Sail Beyond the Sunset ft. Sidney Crosby | Chapter 1

gif credit @/sidnyscrosbygifs

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to all my Canadian followers❤️ I can't wait to get this baby rolling! This fic is definitely going to be the much "softer" fic compared to 'That Which We Are, We Are', so be prepared for all the feels! TW: mentions of unrealistic/unhealthy body expectations, controlling food consumption

Sidney didn’t have to be Sidney Crosby around June, and that’s what he loved most of all. Because they had known each other since they were kids, before they could even write their own names, June knew Sidney and Sidney knew June in a way that nobody else did – not even their parents. There was no pretentiousness with them; no airs or graces that they had to put on in front of one another. When they were together, they could just be what they were – best friends.

Sid scarfed down four grilled cheese sandwiches the night before at June’s apartment before reluctantly stopping. June had tried to entice him with a hot chocolate, but he knew if he drank one at that point, he’d probably get sick. His stomach wasn’t the stomach of a 14-year-old boy anymore, made of steel and made to withstand any weird food combination. Despite the four grilled cheeses, the fatigue of the day caught up to him quickly afterwards, and so he and June retired to bed, sleeping at opposite ends of her bed.

They now found their way back up to his house on Shubenacadie Grand Lake with a bag of groceries to make brunch. June, along with his parents, looked after his place while he was in Pittsburgh, so it was basically her second home. Well, it was as much her home as it was Sidney’s, in his eyes, since she spent so much time there. She even helped him pick out the kitchen finishings, since he had “zero taste” according to her. At the end of the day, what she ended up choosing for him may not have been his first choice, but it didn’t matter, because it meant that every time he was in his kitchen, he thought about June. It was all he could have asked for, really.

When Sid parked his car in his driveway, June got out and took a deep breath to smell the fresh, crisp lake air. When she opened her eyes, she knew that Sidney was already looking over at her, smiling. “Nothing like it, eh?” he asked.

“Nothing like it,” she repeated. “I thank God every day you built this house on this lake.”

Sidney knew she felt that way – she repeated similar sentiments every summer when he came back home. But because he hadn’t seen her so long – longer than usual, at least – he felt like teasing her. Just a little bit. “Even better than that apartment you had in Toronto with the view of the CN Tower?”

June shot him a look. “Don’t start,” she tried to be serious but couldn’t stop the smirk growing on her face. The only reason why she was smiling was because the “view of the CN Tower” was quite literally a reflection of the CN Tower on the glass of the neighbouring skyscraper. It had been her first ‘big girl’ apartment in the city and, even if she lived in it only for a year, it was hers and only hers. “I loved that place. You did too! The one time you visited.”

“Sorry. I was kind of busy playing hockey.”

“You don’t say,” she rolled her eyes. “When are you not?”

Sid stuck his tongue out at her. “Come on. Let’s go.”

June was an expert finding her way around Sid’s kitchen. She unpacked the groceries and got out the required pots and pans needed before beginning to cook. Sidney took out two plates, some cutlery, and glasses before setting them on the counter near June’s work station and starting up the coffee machine. He watched as she prepared the toast, fried the bacon, and poached the eggs. He took it upon himself to slice the avocados. It was all very…domestic. Very them. They’d done this at the beginning of every summer after he started in the NHL, win or lose, and this year was no different. There was something so methodical, but also pleasant, about their routines. Being familiar and having a routine wasn’t a bad thing, Sidney thought, especially since it brought such a calming effect to him.

When breakfast was ready, June grabbed her plate. “We’re eating in the gym,” Sidney said suddenly.

“The g…oh Sid,” June mused, knowing exactly why he wanted to go eat in his gym. “Sid, come on. Let’s eat at the table.”

“Gym, please.”

June couldn’t say no to him. Usually, this request happened a bit later – at least a week or two after he got home, not the day after. Regardless, she digressed, and followed him through the house until they arrived at the aforementioned gym – the place Sidney could really think. Think about his life. Think about his future. Think about his career. He would put up pictures of the captain of the Stanley Cup winning team as motivation for him to get back to that place – the place he so desperately wanted to get back to at least one more time.

They created a makeshift table and chairs using most of the box jumps in the gym. Sidney let June get a couple of bites in – toast topped with sliced avocado, poached eggs, and sriracha sauce for her; toast topped with sliced avocado, bacon, and poached eggs for him – before he began to let everything out. “I hate how this season ended,” he said, taking the third forkful of his own breakfast.

“Why?”

Sidney rolled his eyes. “Because it was the New York fucking Islanders,” he grimaced. He sounded pained when he said their name; June understood. They weren’t exactly very high on her NHL-teams-she-knew-about-besides-the-Penguins-that-she-didn’t-mind list. “We can beat them. We have beat them. And we should have beaten them in the series. I just don’t know where we went wrong – where I went wrong. Why I couldn’t do it, you know? I just…I just couldn’t do it this time around.”

Sidney hated to lose – June knew that. He was the most competitive athlete she knew, besides maybe his friend Nathan, who used to absolutely fucking lose it whenever he lost in certain things (Sidney told her he started going to therapy for that, which she was happy to hear). “You can’t put it all on your shoulders…you know that. I’ve told you that for years. You can’t win all the time, Sid. It’s not just up to you and only you. Hockey is a team effort. It’s not all on your shoulders and it never has been. I’m sure Kris and Geno tell you that all the time, too.”

“Yeah, well…” he didn’t want to accept what he needed to accept.

June could read the look in his eye. She could read him like a book, really, so she knew exactly what was going through his mind when he said those words, in that tone, with that face. “You want to win one more, don’t you?” she asked.

He looked at her. “Of course I do.”

“Because you still have it in you.”

“Because I still have it in me.”

“Because the three Stanley Cups championships, two Art Ross trophies, two Harts, three Ted Lindsays—”

“—Junebug—”

“—Hold on, I’m not done – two Rocket Richards, and two Conn Smythes just aren’t enough for you?” she giggled.

It caused Sid to laugh too. “You know what I mean, Junebug.”

She smiled wryly after she stuffed some avocado in her mouth. “I bet it’s because you want to win another Emmy.”

“Oh, Junebug!” he grimaced, laughing but covering his face with his hands out of complete embarrassment. “Stop bringing up the Emmy!”

“No. Shan’t,” she shook her head playfully. “But in all seriousness Sid, I do know what you mean. I—listen, I know you have it in you. I know you do. You play the game unlike anyone before you or after you. If you think you’ve got another one in you, then I think you’ve got another one in you, too. I believe in you even more than you believe in yourself.”

I believe in you even more than you believe in yourself. They were words that had been said to each other throughout their 30-year friendship; words repeated at almost every stage of life and career. I believe in you even more than you believe in yourself. They were words that ignited a fire in the other; words that reminded the other of not only just everything they’d been through, but everything they were yet to accomplish. And because they knew each other in a way that nobody else did, it really was the ultimate show of confidence in the other. Not that they ever doubted the other. “Thank you, Junebug.”

“Any time, Sid. I know you’d do and say the same thing to me if I was still dancing.”

Sidney nodded his head. He would. He remembered back to when she was dancing – as one of the principal dancers at the National Ballet of Canada – and he’d say it to her all the time. Whenever a new season was upon her and they’d have their classic three-hour long phone calls to one another; when she had to learn a new ballet and new character that tested her physical and acting abilities. I believe in you even more than you believe in yourself. If she was able to list all the awards he’d won in his NHL career as easily as she did earlier, he would be able to recite, verbatim, all the praise she’d gotten in her career as a ballerina. A book could be published with every glowing thing that was said about her. Both of them didn’t get to where they were – or, at least, where they had been – by accident. “How’s your mom?” he asked.

June shrugged. “She’s fine, I guess.”

“You haven’t seen her? Or visited?”

“No.”

“Is she still with Dominic?”

“Of course,” June replied. “They’d never divorce. Well – at least – she’d never divorce him. I don’t think he’d ever divorce her either – it’d be too much of a hassle. Too much money involved.”

Sidney remembered being told about Miss Hockley moving to Newfoundland when he and June were sixteen years old. It had happened while they were both away. Sidney had heard from his mom. It came as a shock to June – the move, at least, not the marriage. Miss Hockley had married a pretty successful businessman from Newfoundland named Dominic Carson and moved to a beautiful house just outside of St. John’s. Her move meant that June had to spend her last summer in Halifax – before moving to Toronto full-time – sleeping on a cot in Taylor’s room since she refused to spend the summer in Newfoundland.

Sidney had distinct memories of Miss Hockley growing up. She was…a different kind of mother, to say the least. She was so unlike Trina that sometimes a young Sidney would wonder how Miss Hockley was even a mom. She treated June so differently than how Trina treated him or Taylor. Even as a kid, Sid knew there were different kinds of moms and dads, but Miss Hockley was the most different.

1994.

Sidney usually watched Saturday morning cartoons at his own house, on his own couch, with his own special cup with milk. But dad was working this weekend, and mom was working at the grocery store, which meant that Sidney had to watch Saturday morning cartoons with June and Miss Hockley in the basement where they lived. While he was comfy on the couch beside June, it still wasn’t his house. It still wasn’t his couch. It still wasn’t his own special cup. Sidney found it odd that he was allowed to have blueberry pancakes and a hardboiled egg for breakfast but June could only have carrots.

When he asked Miss Hockley why June was eating carrots, Miss Hockey’s voice was firm. “It’s for ballet, Sidney.”

“Can she have some blueberry pancakes like me?”

“No, she can’t.”

June never told him she was allergic to blueberries. Or pancakes for that matter. In fact, he distinctly remembered June eating a bowl of blueberries at his house and getting them all over her mouth and fingers. Sidney’s face scrunched up, confused by it all. If she wasn’t allergic, why couldn’t she have any? “Can I give her some of my—”

“No, Sidney,” Miss Hockley was adamant, her voice even more stern than before. “June doesn’t get any blueberry pancakes.”

“But why n—”

“—June doesn’t get blueberry pancakes because of ballet,” Miss Hockley tried to explain. “She’s not going to become big and strong like you and play hockey. Ballet isn’t the same as hockey. If June wants to be beautiful, June has to eat carrots for breakfast and not pancakes.”

June wasn’t saying anything, didn’t say anything until Miss Hockley asked if they were all settled and told them she was going to go do her hair in the bathroom. Once the door closed and June heard the hairdryer turn on, she looked at Sidney. “Mommy wants me to be nice and skinny. I mean—when I become a ballet dancer, I have to be nice and skinny. I can’t be big and bulky,” she said. “That’s why I have to eat carrots.”

Sidney felt bad that June had to eat only carrots. Trina would make him oatmeal with dinosaur eggs in it, toast with peanut butter, and sometimes even bacon. He wondered what her other breakfasts were like if, on Saturdays, she could only have carrots. Those other breakfasts must have been so boring, too. “Do you want to have a bite?”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Are you sure? I won’t tell your mom.”

Sidney watched as June thought about the proposal. They did look good. And her mom would never know. Before she knew it, she was nodding her head. Sidney picked up one of his pancakes by hand and held it out to her. He watched as she took a small bite. Almost immediately, he watched as a large smile appeared on her face. “Mmmmm, that’s good!” she exclaimed.

“My mom can make you blueberry pancakes if you come over for breakfast at my house,” Sidney assured her. “And I’m sure she’ll keep the secret from your mom, too.”

“She doesn’t ask you to, like, go and see her or anything?” Sidney asked. “My parents are already asking if I can go over for dinner tonight.”

June shook her head. “You know how my mom is,” she said, her voice ever so slightly on edge. “She’s…she’s not like Trina. Never has been, never will be. I came to terms with that a long time ago.”

Sidney understood. The last way he – or anybody – would describe Miss Hockley was ‘just like Trina Crosby’. “I’m sorry to bring it up, Junebug.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Sid. I know you ask with the best intentions. It’s just never going to be normal between her and I, so I have to make sure I visit only when it’s absolutely necessary.”

Sidney nodded. Nothing was normal between June and her mom, that was for sure. He always felt bad that their relationship was the way it was. “Well, regardless, want to come to my parents’ for dinner tonight?”

A soft smile appeared on June’s face. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Early the same evening, Sidney and June drove back into Halifax and straight into the driveway of the now-famous house in Cole Harbour. To both Sidney and June, the house was home. June didn’t think she knew of a warmer place than the Crosby house, and it was all because of the people who lived in it. She’d never loved a place more – not the basement apartment where she grew up, not any apartment in Toronto that she lived in, not even the apartment she was in now, and she loved her apartment. There was just something so special and so familiar about the Crosby’s house that affected her in ways she couldn’t describe.

The second June walked through the door, just a step behind Sidney who’d joked “Look what the cat dragged in” to Trina, June was engulfed in a hug. Typical of the Crosby household. “How have you been, June?” Trina asked as she rubbed June’s back.

“Good. Busy. You know how busy this time of year can get for me,” June replied with a smile.

“Of course. How could I forget? Auditions, right?”

“Yup.”

“Sid, your dad’s out back on the barbeque,” Trina said quickly before focusing her attention back on June. “I’m guessing you two were at the house this morning.”

“Where else would we be?” Sidney countered playfully as he walked by his mom and his best friend. “Where’s Taylor?”

“Showering,” Trina said quickly, refocusing on June once again. “Any standouts this year? Any dancers as good as you?”

June couldn’t help but blush. “Stop buttering me up, Trina.”

“I’ll butter you up all I want, kiddo. There was nobody as good as you.”

Conversation flowed naturally between Trina and June, and when Taylor came downstairs, wet hair twisted into a bun, she added to the conversation seamlessly, asking about the auditions and scholarships and process of it all. When Sidney and Troy came back in with the grilled meat and vegetables on their platters, June and Taylor quickly set the table. Everybody sat at their spots. They passed around the food. The simplicity of it all, the naturalness (because they’d done this thousands of times), the fact that nobody bat an eyelash – it was what June loved most.

June didn’t have to be Juniper Brooks around the Crosbys, and that’s what she loved most of all. There was no pretentiousness with them; no airs or graces that they had to put on. In a career where she dressed up in characters, took on personas, and performed as somebody else for hours on end, June loved how she could be herself.

Sidney looked at June beside him, smiling at something Taylor had said. Her smile made him smile.

[no-droids]

Beginner’s Luck

Part Twelve of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.6K

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maker, why are you being so weird about this?

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

So Peli is… a character.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you admit quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Also… girlfriend?

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Try again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So how did you toggle so fas—?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay.

Okay, so that one gets you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maker, did he just drop his fucking gun?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It sounds… wonderful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

… What?  N… No…

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

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

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

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

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

—it hits dead center.

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

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

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

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

You do, and oh.  Oh, no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

… that’s not closed.

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

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

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

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

***

Stay tuned for the next part!

[thefanficmonster]

When You Put It Like That

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: After a long time of trying to convince the angel-like Y/N to utter a single bad word, Corpse’s attempts are finally met with success but not the way he expected.

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for this fluffy request, it was a ton of fun to write! I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but here it finally is and if you happen to come across it and read it, I hope you enjoy the experience hehe. Love, Vy ❤

“Wait, wait, wait, what did I miss?“ I say as I hop into the Discord call and the Among Us server, running five minutes late since I got carried away reading my chat. My fans tend to do that to me - make me lose track of time and everything else. That’s why I usually try to connect to the call and game before I turn to look at my chat. Unfortunately, I forgot that bit today.

“Omg, Y/N! Put the cat ears on! It’s for the greater good, just trust me!“ Rae commands urgently. Amusingly enough, in the background, muffled a little by her voice is Corpse’s, telling me not to.

“Not that I need a reason to wear cat ears...“ I trail off, equipping the cat ears both in-game and IRL. Yes, I own a pair of cat ears, is that so surprising? “But can someone fill me in on what’s happening?“

“’Cat girls are ruining my life’ just surpassed twenty million views on YouTube, so we’re celebrating! And Mr. Popular Pants over here keeps being a party pooper, saying it’s not a big deal and refusing to put on cat ears.“

That’s when I notice that Corpse’s avatar is the only one wearing a different accessory than the rest of us. It’s this kind of tantrum-throwing-toddler that gets me laughing my butt off every single time. Add to it the witty sibling banter between him and Rae, fun for the whole family. Well, ok, not quite for the whole family with the curse words they sometimes drop left and right.

Speaking of cursing, I don’t do it. I was raised in a household where a curse word would earn me and my siblings a punishment - always different and never not creative but most importantly - always intense enough to make us regret saying a no-no word with our parents or grandparents around. That’s kind of stuck with me and I can’t really get over it. Even when I’m upset, the first thing that comes out of my mouth is that censor word YouTubers use to not get demonetized. I’ve been using those words all my life: shoot, freak, frick, crap, darn etc. - so my channel is always kept kid-friendly in that aspect.  Now with that context in mind, you’ll understand better the shock I received for this next move I made.

“Corpse, Corpse darling, listen to me. It’s not a big deal, it’s a HUGE deal. Don’t play the humble card with us, we know you too well. Allow us to be as excited as you were when you find out!“ I start off sweetly enough, “Sounds good?“

Corpse hesitates for a second, mumbling something under his breath before replying, “Ok, I guess.“

“Great!“ I clap my hands together, “Then put on the fucking cat ears!“

To say everyone in the call, especially Corpse, is stunned would be an understatement. Hell, I’m even stunned for a second or two, my eyebrows raising at my own out of character words. And, as a person who’s only cursed a countable-on-the-fingers-of-one-hand times in her life, boy did it feel freeing and relieving. Why haven’t I been doing it sooner, for fuck’s sake?!

This must be a huge success for everyone present, once again - especially for Corpse who’s been trying to get me to curse basically since the start of our friendship. He seems too shocked to even claim and flaunt his win over my willpower to keep my language clean, which I honestly appreciate.

“Well, when you put it like that...“ He finally mutters, his voice barely reaching me through the ‘oh my Gosh‘ squeals from Rae, Poki, Lily and Leslie who never thought their tries would lead to success. On the screen, I watch as his little black colored avatar equips the famous cat ears, “...How could I possibly complain?“

“Hell fucking yeah!“ I shout, clapping my hands together, “Wooo fucking hooo!“

“Ok, how the hell are we gonna stop her now? Is there a switch we can flip?“ Toast asks, faux concern in his voice.

“Shut it, Toast. I’ve worked far too hard to have her going back to being an angel!“ Corpse retorts, sending me and the rest of the players in a fit of laughter.

It’s true! He’s been working hella hard to get at least one curse word out of me, bribing me with immunity, threatening to kill me first in Among Us, offering an alliance or being my bodyguard or whatever else I could possibly fall for.

Hey, at least I didn’t get bribed into it, right?

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[slasherrabbitmadness]

Beach day with the Slashers

Female Reader -Bo- Gender-neutral -everyone else-

Bo- Fingering but no penetration. Dirty talk.

Angst and Fluff with Herbert and Dan (They pronouns used for Y/N) Fluff with Michael and Jason.

Michael Myers (1978 with the extra height of the 2018 one)

> Wants to visit the beach during the day. He’ll even have his mask off. Instead of enjoying the beautiful view of the sun hitting the blue ocean, you spend your day staring at your handsome boyfriend.

> Michael is just there to scan for new victims. He kills people who litter, hates seeing wrappers and cigarette butts littered across nature.

> You egg him on to go swimming, it takes a lot of coaxing. “Please, Michael, just for a little bit.” He points to your belongings on the towel, “They’ll be fine, who’s gonna want to steal some sandwiches and some towels?” He shook his head. You got down on your knees and gave him sad puppy dog eyes. He grumbled then lifted you onto his shoulder, you squealed as you placed your hands on his firm back, rubbing his taut muscles.

> When he got up to his pecs in the water he threw you in. You came up for air, “Mikey, what the hell!?”

> “What? You wanted in the water.” He gave a small smile.

> He made you swim in front of the beach while he just stood in the water and watched. He knew you’d be fine, it was your belongings he was worried for. You caught his eyes, his already dark blue eyes were now matching the deepest parts of the ocean. He barreled through the water, pushing you aside. You watched him as he made his way up onto the beach.

> Some fuck had the bright idea to do some stealing. He just happens to choose the one man’s belongings you don’t fuck with.

> Before that guy had time to react to a six-foot-three man, hauling ass like he is a tiger chasing after a deer, Michael clocked him so hard in the face the man immediately went down.

> People stood around Michael, some congratulating him for knocking out a thief, others gawked “My God he swung that punch so hard.” “Is the thief even breathing?” Michael stood over your belongings, and turned back towards you, just making your way out of the ocean. Michael was mad, but not as mad at what he saw next.

> Some random beach Chad made his way over to you, “Yo, that was wild huh?” You gave a quick, “Ya.” not caring to speak to him, just wanted to get back to your boyfriend. “He just knocked that guy out in one punch.” You made your way up the beach, he grabbed at you “Hey, be careful, probably want to stay aw-”

>The poor sap never stood a chance, Michael swung his fist so hard Chad went flying back into the water.

> “I’ve had enough, we're leaving.”

> You were gonna protest, but when you scanned the crowd, you realized that yeah, we’re gonna go home.

> Walking back home, Michael held your hand, tightly. “Mikey?” He grunts, “You don’t like people touching your belongings, huh?” You turned to look up at him and he caught you in a kiss. He snuck his tongue in, dominating yours, you moaned and he pulled away. You whined and he smiled.

> “what’s mine is mine.”

Jason Voorhees

> He’s the beach’s lifeguard, so if you wanna spend a beach day with Jason, you’ll have to do it after hours. You would, but Jason takes the evening shifts too.

> Everybody loved Jason. Kids loved him, he was always so nice to them after all. He gave them swimming lessons. He was always so patient with them, never getting mad if a kid was struggling to grasp the basics.

> Men and Women loved Jason. His stoic demeanor, his calming presence...his bulging muscles. Jason was oblivious to all kinds of flirting. “Your hands are like, so big!” said a bubbly tanned beach bunny. Jason just grunts. A muscle-bound beach bro asked, “Bet you lift a lot eh, what’s your macros?” Jason just looked at his large bicep, he shrugged.

> When you visit him at work he gives you small waves then his eyes go right back to the water, not wanting to miss anything. Dedicated <3

> He doesn’t take a proper lunch break, he’ll eat his food while watching the beach, scarfing down the food as fast as possible.

> After a long day, you’ll finally have Jason all to yourself.

> Night swimming!

> You and Jason have splash fights, that he often wins, his large palms create huge splashes that knock you back into the water.

> Keeps you incredibly close in the water, will bug you to wear a life jacket if you ever swam without him. He’s very protective.

> Holds you close to him the further out you go. He won’t let you go, so it’s the perfect time to smother him in kisses.

> Jason hums into your kisses, his large hands running up and down your back, the water and his hands feel perfect on your skin.

> Jason couldn’t be happier that you're together.

Herbert West + Dan Cain - Poly relationship or what Derrick Barry calls a ‘throuple’

> “Please Herbert, for me?” He grimaced at you. Don’t you know how busy he is? Perfect specimens don’t just end up dead you know? Someones gotta end a life! You sighed and brought out the big gun. “Well, Dan said-” The moment Dan left your lips, Herbert was pushing you and him out the door.

> You and Dan had a blast, building castles, collecting seashells, playing some beach volleyball with another friendly couple.

> Herbert sulked under the beach umbrella, nose in a large medical textbook.

> “If you come with us, Herbert, we’ll get you a grape freezie!” Dan coaxed but it did not affect Herbert. Herbert waved you both off as if you were two mosquitoes bugging him.

> You and Dan walked hand in hand, swinging them in between yourself on your way to the little concession stand. “You sure it was for the best we brought him, Dan?” Dan looked at you and frowned, your eyes were a little glossy. “He only came because you were coming.” You felt the tears rolling down your cheek.

> “fuck, Herbert, you little monster.” Dan cursed to under his breath. Dan knew Herbert gravitated more towards him. It’s not that Herbert didn’t like you, just Dan was there first. Dan never told you but he often caught Herbert staring at you, a softness in his eyes that Dan knew meant one thing…

> “I’m sorry…” You mumbled, quickly rubbing the back of your hand over your eyes. Dan shushed you and brought you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head.

> “Don’t be, Herbert should be. Some Vitamin D is much needed for his pale little body. I’ll talk to him, okay? In the meantime, focus on me!”

> Dan and you continued with the most fun day ever. You ate your freezies, swapping flavors halfway through. A little boy asked Dan to help with flying his kite, Dan’s height coming in handy.

> Herbert stewed in his spot under the umbrella, watching you and Dan have fun, “Hmph, wasting time.” He kept peeking from his book, eyes on you, how you smiled when you looked into Dan’s eyes, how you leaned in closer, head resting on his shoulder. How Dan wrapped his arm around your waist, lips on your ear whispering...God knows what, Herbert can only imagine.

> “They could just yank me away from this, make me spend time with them...not that I want to. But if they dragged me away from my book then I’d have no choice.”

> When it got late, You and Dan packed away everything into the bags, Herbert supervised. How helpful/s

> Dan had you drop a few of the smaller items at the car on your own, he made Herbert help with some of the heavier items. As your figure became smaller and smaller in the distance, Dan turned to Herbert, “You know, they wer-”

> “I can’t believe you two, frolicking about so openly.” Herbert had cut Dan off. Herbert fumbled with the bags while trying to push up his glasses. Dan fumed.

> “You mean act like a couple, which we are, which you're a part of. Or are you only a couple with me?”

> Herbert snapped “excuse me, you and Y/N are most certainly a couple, which I have no part of.”

> Dan scoffed and shook his head “They want to be with you too, Herbert, They do like you, They feel upset with how you treat them. Now I know deep down you adore them, you best start showing it.”

> Herbert stopped, he looked at Dan and then at you in the distance starting the car.

> Later that night, Herbert had asked if you’d help in the basement. As tired as you were, you went to help. Herbert scarcely looked at you, but he found ways to touch you. Hands ghosting over yours as you handed him some flasks. Grabbing your hips softly to move you out of the way.

> “Everything good, Herbert?” You asked. His eyes looked everywhere but you. He stepped a little closer to you, His face only a foot away.

> He smashed his lips onto yours and wrapped you up in his arms. His hands rubbing along your sides, pulling you in so tight you were surprised he was strong enough to bring pain that way.

> “Don’t cry over me. Okay?” Your face felt hot, you nodded. “You are mine too, not just Dan’s, okay?” You nodded again. “Good. Now kiss me.”

> The kiss started tender but that just wasn’t gonna cut it with all the tension between you two.

Bo Sinclair /Female reader/

> Lookin’ at all the pretty girls go by.

> Catches you catching him staring, flashes his baby blues at you, “C’mon darling, you know you're still the apple of mah eye.”

> Gets pissed when other guys check you out. Strolls on over and wraps an arm around you, sneering at the Chads and Kyles.

> “You just had to wear that sexy little number, didn’t ya?” He snarled in your face. You grabbed your tits in the cute red bikini and gave them a Lil shake.

> Bo yanked you away from the beach, you protested, hitting his large forearm, “Bo, what the hell? Oh come on, you act like a leech an-” He cut you off, his lips slammed onto yours, the kiss was teeth and a little tongue action.

> Bo had yanked you away to some run-down looking bathrooms, the paint was so old it looked like the original coat from the 1960s

> “Now, Darlin, looks like you’ve just been wanting to rial me up now, huh? Wanting those sons of bitches to fuck you?” He leaned in close to your ear, his heavy breathing making you shake with anticipation. He suckled on it, causing you to buckle at the knees.

> “Bo, no I didn’t wan-want ah, the- them to” You were panting as he made small circles on your clit over your bikini bottoms. His fingers were calloused but he could be surprisingly gentle.

> “Now, yah best be quiet so no one hears ya, understood, Doll?” You whimpered and Bo flashed you his pearly whites. “That’s a good girl.”

> You should make him jealous more often.

[awkward-and-indecisive]

The Lazy Chose Me

Gif by @crowleysfavouritedemon

Summary - Y/n wants to have a lazy day but her boyfriend, Dean, wants to take her on an impromptu date. Will she have a good time at the date or will the date, the green eyed hunter organised, be a total wreck?

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Female!reader

Warnings - FLUFF!!! A little language, crack, lots of kissing a certain green eyed man, Dean being the best boyfriend ever, Dean being an adorable dork. Reader’s thoughts are italicised. If I’m forgetting anything please let me know!

Word Count - 4224

A/N - This randomly came to me at four in the morning. Also, I love Stitch with everything in me. 🥺😩

This is completely unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine.

Please tell me what you think about it.

FEEDBACK IS HIGHLY APPRECIATED!!!

Happy Reading :)

*****

You were having the laziest day of your life. Sitting on your side of the bed in a hoodie and sweatpants, you were stuffing your face with popcorn while watching reruns of your favourite show. With no hunts for the day, you were having a lazy day after months and you were enjoying it way too much. Crumbs of the snacks you’ve had earlier were scattered on the bed, decorating the sheets like confetti. Little pieces of popcorn were falling everywhere but you didn’t care. And you didn’t care that you didn’t care. You were loving the fact that you had nothing to do all day but lie in bed and eat junk and be lazy and messy and ugly and dirty. You were basically a zombie for the day.

Ah! This is what dreams are made of. You thought to yourself, sighing after another episode ended. You stretched your body, a few of your joints popping due to not getting any movement for so long, and hummed happily to yourself. You pressed play on the remote, the next episode playing, and changed your position on the bed. Lying on your side, you brought up your knees to your chest, one of your hands supporting your head, and kept the popcorn bowl within arm’s reach.

You had only continued your munching for a few minutes when your green eyed sex god of a boyfriend entered the room, excitement making his huge frame shake. He stopped at the foot of the bed, bouncing on the balls of his feet and you got a little annoyed at how energetic he was being. Your eyes were still glued to the screen, hand going in the direction of the bowl, blindly picking some popcorn and gorging yourself with it.

Dean moved in front of the tv and switched it off. You let out a ‘hey!’ in protest and he came to sit beside you. You scowled at him for interrupting your plan of being a zombie all day and he kept a hand on your hip, a cheeky smile playing on his lips which told you that he was up to something.

“Get ready, sweetheart. We’re going on an impromptu date.” He said with eagerness, clapping his hands together, and you still kept scowling at him. He seemed to have figured out what was swirling around in your head and started shaking you lightly.

“Come on, Y/N! It’s been so long since we had a date night and I have the perfect thing in mind.” He whined, making puppy dog eyes. You almost gave in right there but the lazy part of you stopped you from saying yes.

“But whyyy?! I don’t want to get ready or dress up or do my hair or look pretty or take a shower. I want to spend all day in bed doing absolutely nothing.” You whined back.

“Y/n, come on! You can be lazy all you want tomorrow. And look at all this mess and you haven’t even showered?!” Your boyfriend exclaimed. You just shrugged in return. So what if I didn’t shower today? It wasn’t like I smelled. Or did I?

You shook your head to get those thoughts out of your head and pulled the covers over your head, trying to hide under them and not let Dean force you to get out of bed. He tried to snatch the covers from you, going to stand at the foot of the bed again, but you had a deathgrip on them. Of course you were no match to him when it came to strength and he managed to steal them from you, throwing them on the small chair in the room. You groaned and folded your body more, tightly wrapping your arms around your knees and burying your head in the space between your knees and chest.

Dean grabbed a hold of your ankle and easily pulled you to the end of the bed and you screamed in protest, grabbing whatever you could to hold on. To anyone else the scene would surely look extremely comical, you clutching the sheets like your life depended on it and Dean dragging you towards the end of the bed. You knew you were being childish and throwing a tantrum like a kid whose mother refused to give in to their unnecessary demand they made in a public place right now but you didn't want to leave your bed. You were so comfortable and happy spending the day there and your boyfriend was bursting your peaceful bubble of lethargy.

“Why. Are. You. So. Damn. Lazy?!” Dean huffed exasperatedly, pulling you more and more towards the edge with each word.

You finally gave up on your plan, knowing you were no match for your stupid boyfriend’s stupid strength. You swiped the strands of hair that stuck on your face from all the scuffle in annoyance, when you stood up on your feet, and looked him in the eyes.

“I didn’t choose the lazy Dean. The. Lazy. Chose. Me.” You huffed with every step you took to leave the room and go to the bathroom to get ready for your impromptu date.

Dean chuckled and shook his head at your antics, taking a pair of your jeans, your undergarments and a jumper out of the drawer to give to you since you didn’t take any with you. He dropped the clothes on the bench of the bathroom, shouting ‘don’t take too long and get ready in 45 minutes’, and came back to change his clothes too.

Rolling your eyes for the millionth time in the last hour, you dragged your boot clad feet to the bunker’s garage. You would have been spending the whole day in sweats and a hoodie and here you were now, wearing jeans and a bra. Oh how cruel life is to break my dreams like that! You internally groaned.

You found Dean humming a tune to himself while leaning against his precious Impala, legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded. His head perked up when the sound of your footsteps reached his ears and he immediately opened the passenger side door for you. You grumpily took a seat and Dean, still acting all gentlemanly, closed the door and rounded the car to take a seat in the driver’s side.

He jammed the key into the ignition and turned it, driving out of the garage. The green eyed man turned on some soft rock tunes, his fingers drumming to their tune. His whole demeanor was annoying you, testing your limits. How was he so happy after literally dragging me off the bed and stopping me from being the sack of potatoes I so desperately wanted to be all day?

“Why couldn’t we have a lazy date night in the Cave?” You asked, turning your body towards him.

“Because I can’t remember the last time we went out on a nice date and what I have planned is gonna be so much better than a lazy date night in the Cave.” He replied with confidence.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You grumbled, folding your arms.

“At least tell me where we’re going!” You whined after a few minutes had passed, stomping your foot like a child. You were really in a mood today.

“Then it won’t be a surprise.” Dean said, like it was obvious. You faced him and gave him your best puppy dog eyes, jutting out your lower lip to make the pout he could never say no to. He gave you a glance and then chuckled, “Nice try, sweetheart. But my hands are tied.”- he raised his hands in defeat and shrugged, -“I’m sorry but no can do.”

You let out a groan of frustration and decided to give up on prying information from him and just wait to see what this great plan of his was.

After a little over an hour of driving, Dean put Baby in park and you could see a tent with some lights and stuff. It was a carnival.

He brought you to a freaking carnival?!

“A carnival.” You said, judgement dripping from your voice.

“What? It’ll be fun!” He shrugged, a huge smile plastered on his face.

“I swear to god Dean if i don’t have any fun-”

“If you don’t have a good time then I’ll do whatever you want for a month.” He rambled out before you could complete your threat.

“Whatever?” You asked him, wanting to know if he was sure what he was signing himself up for. He nodded in reply and you thought about the little deal he was presenting you.

“Make it two and you have yourself a deal.” You countered, giving him a huge fake smile and putting your hand forward so you could shake on it.

“Deal!” Dean said and instead of shaking your hand, he crashed his lips on yours, kissing you like he hadn’t for years. He parted from you and you weren’t sure if you were out of breath because of the kiss or because of how good he kissed you. “That’s the way to properly seal a deal, sweetheart.” He winked and got out of the car, leaving you breathless and in a daze in the car.

You shook your head to get your brain back to working and got out of the car. You rounded and saw Dean holding his hand out for you. You couldn’t help the genuine smile and warmth that graced your cheeks. You hated how a tiny gesture from him made your heart do somersaults like a teenage girl even after all these years of knowing and dating him. Intertwining your fingers with his, you started walking towards the entry to go inside.

You were mesmerised by the hundreds of lights that were acting as a roof over your heads, looking like a galaxy of stars, as soon as you stepped foot into the carnival. You uttered a ‘Whoa!’ and could already see the smug smile forming on your boyfriend’s face. He gave you a ‘Hate to say I told you so’ look which you just ignored, pulling him towards the first stall your eyes fell on.

Dean suggested that you two eat a little before indulging in any activities and you quickly agreed since you didn’t have anything to eat all day other than those few snacks. You both opted for a hotdog and quickly finished it, feeling the hunger once the food was in your hands. The both of you roamed a little around the fair, watching everything that was on display.

The various games that were hard for normal people but to you both were as easy as pie and all the different prizes they had. A particular prize caught your eye and you memorised the stall number to visit later. The numerous contrasting foods and their delicious aromas wrapped around you like a blanket as you passed their respective stalls.

You saw a stall with flavoured lemonade and urged Dean to try some. You continued exploring while drinking the flavours of your choice. You reached the end of the ground, where the carnival was set, where a huge Ferris wheel waited for you and Dean.

You could only imagine the view you would get from the top. You tugged at your boyfriend’s jacket sleeve, stopping at the queue for the giant ride. You quickly emptied your plastic cups and threw them in the trash. You couldn’t help but notice Dean being a little nervous about the ride and found it so adorable. Dean Winchester, the best hunter in the world, was scared of a Ferris wheel.

It wasn’t long till it was your chance to sit in one of the carts. The crew guy locked the bar over your laps, securing you in. You heard Dean start humming Metallica, which you knew he did to calm himself down, as the ride started to take you up. You took his hand in yours, your thumb caressing the back of his hand. His grip on your hand tightened and you squeezed it back in reassurance, resting your head on his shoulder. You knew he was a little scared but couldn’t help and find the whole situation utterly adorable and amusing.

The wheel stopped when you were halfway to the top and you looked down to see that a couple was getting off a cart and another taking their place. You looked back at Dean, sitting next to you, and he had a funny expression on his face.

“Hey! You okay?” You asked, your brows furrowing.

He scanned his surroundings for a few seconds and then gulped, looking at you. You raised your eyebrows in question and he opened his mouth but no words came out.

“I uh...I think I’m gonna throw up.” He stuttered.

“You WHAT?!” You said, voice getting louder with shock while you let go of his hand and put as much distance as you could between the two of you. Your turn had just started and you were approximately 50 feet above ground and you had nowhere to go. Your thoughts started spiralling and you quickly rambled out, “I swear to god Dean if you throw up here I’ll kill you. Don’t even think about throwing up. Swallow it down if you have to. Don’t you dare throw up.”

“I can’t just not throw up Y/n!” He screeched.

“I don’t care!!” You said, shaking your head from side to side.

You both stared at each other in disbelief for a minute when Dean started laughing hysterically, his whole body shaking the cart. Your eyes widened when realisation hit you. He was messing with you. He wasn’t nauseous. Ugh! You hated him so much. The ride started again, taking you both up and he was still laughing.

“Asshole!” You said, smacking his arm and the cart shook a little bit.

“Whoa Y/n! I might fall!” Dean shrieked and you grumbled ‘Good!’ in reply.

You crossed your arms, rolling your eyes and looking away from him. It wasn’t long until you reached the top and as soon as you took in the view, your annoyance vaporized into thin air. You could see the whole town from up here, hundreds of lights twinkling in the distance, the cold wind blowing through your hair. It all looked so heavenly stunning.

“This is so beautiful!” You whispered in awe.

“Yeah it is.” Dean agreed with you and when you looked at him, he was looking at you. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You rolled your eyes while a blush crept up on your cheeks making your face warm even in the cold breeze. A smug expression made its way on Dean’s face and he wiggled his brow at you, thinking of how easy it was to win you over. But before he could make a smartass comment, you crashed your lips onto his, shutting him up. He didn’t seem to mind, bringing his hand up to your cheek, his thumb caressing it, while the other one still held onto the metal bar which was your only safety.

You made out like horny teenagers the whole ride, giggling when your noses collided. You both got out of the small cart, hands entwining and began to make your way back. You were walking quietly, taking in your surroundings when out of nowhere a guy ran past you, drenching you with the milkshake he had in his hand. You gasped at the contact of the cold liquid with your body, which quickly started seeping into your clothes and making you shiver.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean cursed looking at you, anger filling him straight away and then his green eyes gazed behind you to catch sight of that guy.

“Let it go, Dean. I need to change before I get sick.” You said, tugging at his hand.

“Okay okay. I think I saw a souvenir shop a little ahead. Let’s get you some clean clothes from there.” He said, his anger disappearing and worry taking its place.

You nodded and let him guide you to the shop, hoping they had some clothes you could wear. As much as you disliked coming here at first, you were having a good time and didn’t wanna go back home so soon.

You went into the shop, thanking everyone in this world when you found some clothes at the back. You quickly took off their tag and handed them to Dean so he could pay for them while you changed in the fitting room. You quickly got out of your milkshake soaked clothes and put them in a plastic bag. You left the fitting room, your eyes meeting with those gorgeous green ones and he chuckled, shaking his head and looking down.

“What?” You asked, feeling a little conscious.

“Nothing. I’m just not that surprised at your choice of clothing.” He said with amusement, waving his hand up and down towards your body.

You glanced down at yourself and realised that you were wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. You were back in your lazy clothes and chuckled too. You looked at Dean and shrugged while smirking, “What can I say? The lazy chose me.”

He grinned at you, pulling you in for a kiss. The kiss was all sweet and loving. He parted when the need for air became too much and rested his forehead on yours, whispering on your lips, “I’m starting to think it did.”

You pecked his lips one more time before taking his hand to exit the shop. You both roamed around a bit more, going on some rides and eating some food. You lost a bet to Dean, getting dizzy before him on Chair-O-Planes, resulting in him making fun of you before you kissed him to shut him up while he lost a bet to you, getting scared in the fun house once while you didn’t. You made fun of him before he applied your method of shutting him up, kissing you. You both tried a hybrid of a cake and a pie which was so fucking delicious that it left you two moaning with each bite and you instantly got a whole one packed to take home. Dean kept convincing you to call it Pieke which you kept ignoring. You also tried something called a ‘pizza cone’, it looked like a normal ice cream cone but instead of the ice cream, it had cheese and pizza sauce and the cone was made out of dough. It was easily the best kind of pizza you’ve ever had and got a few of them packed for everyone back at home.

It was safe to say that both of your stomachs were full with finger-licking food and your hearts with irreplaceable memories from tonight. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this carefree and had so much fun. You hated to admit it, but Dean was right and you were definitely not going to say that out loud and give him one more chance of being all cocky and boastful.

Both of you were lazily strolling with one of your hands carrying the bags with the food and the other interlaced with each others’. You could see the opening from where you had entered, meaning you had done everything there was to do.

“You ready to go home, sweetheart?” Dean asked, his head tilting to you while his eyes darted towards the entry/exit point.

You hummed while nodding, Dean pecking your forehead and beginning to walk again. You had just stepped out of the carnival when your brain reminded you of that stall number you had thought of visiting before and you quickly shrieked, “WAIT!!”

He stopped in his tracks, turning to you with his brows raised, “What?”

“Uh, I remembered something I have to do.” You gave him a vague reply, not looking him in the eye.

“Okay, let’s go do it then.” He said, turning to walk back inside.

“NO!! No no.” You yelped, pushing on his shoulders to turn him back. He gave you a perplexed look and you awkwardly said, “You don’t have to come. Plus I kinda gotta do it alone.”

“Okaaay..” Dean said, unsure.

“Alright! So I'll meet you at the car in 20.” You hastily rambled out, pecking his lips and made your way back to the stall you had earlier seen in the night, leaving a dumbfounded Dean behind.

You were walking back to the car, a giant rainbow slinky in your hands, which were behind your back, to hide the toy from him. You saw how heartbroken he was, when the one Sam had gotten him on a case, got broken. You just wanted to see his whole face light up and give you that huge smile that lit up your world. You had seen the slinky displayed as a prize on the Ring Toss game and had won it for your boyfriend easily, your hunter skills coming handy.

You saw Dean leaning against the Impala, a mischievous look on his face, something blue and huge peeking out from where he was hiding it behind him. You squinted your eyes to figure out what he was hiding but failed to make anything out.

“What you got there, Y/n?” Dean questioned, nodding to your hands, amusement painted all over his face.

“I could ask the same.” You smirked, raising one of your eyebrows.

“Well as they say, ‘Ladies first’” He winked and you chuckled.

“You’re gonna need your hands for this one and they’re a little busy as far as I can tell.” You said, wiggling your brows at him.

Realisation hit him and you chuckled at his puzzled expression at what to do with whatever was in his hands. He told you to close your eyes and not open them until he shoved the thing he had in his hands in Baby through the window. He gave you the green light to open his eyes. You gave out a count of three out loud and then brought the slinky in front of you. Dean gasped, his whole face lighting up with a million megawatt smile, just like you had imagined, lighting up your whole world in the process.

“No! Oh, you’re the best girlfriend EVER!!! I LOVE YOU AND YOU’RE SO FREAKING AWESOME!!!” Dean blurted out, voice raising with each word, probably on cloud nine right now. Your face heated up at his words but you just dismissed them, mumbling ‘yeah yeah’ while looking down at your feet.

“Okay time for your surprise!”- He said, remembering what he had stuffed in the window earlier, -“Close your eyes.”- he insisted, turning around to get it out of the car while you shut your eyes, -”And no cheating!” You chuckled at his childish behaviour, loving it all the same.

“You need some help with that?” You teased him, after a few minutes passed and you heard him struggling to get it out of the car. He grunted an ‘almost done’ making you chuckle again.

“Alright, open up, sweetheart.” He said.

“YOU DID NOT!!” You gasped as you saw what he was holding in his hands, happy tears making your eyes blurry, reminding you of your childhood.

You instantly took the giant, almost as big as you, Stitch stuffed plush from his arms, squeezing it tightly against yourself. You couldn’t believe he got that for you. That little alien meant the world to you.

“I saw it at a shooting game after you left and I just couldn’t not get it for you. I know how much you love the movie and this weird guy. And also this is compensation if you didn’t have a good time tonight.” He told you and you looked up at him.

“Dean I...this...YOU are the best boyfriend in this universe and all the others. You don’t know how much this means to me...I...I love you.” You stuttered, words not coming to you as your feelings overwhelmed you, your voice getting smaller at the end.

He stepped forward, crashing his lips on yours, kissing you passionately while his large hands cupped your face. You kissed him back with the same passion, pouring all the feelings you felt into it, immense love for a certain green eyed man being the biggest. You parted when the need for oxygen became too much and rested your forehead on his.

“You should find yourself a new bed to sleep in because I just found a new cuddle buddy I won’t be letting go of any time soon.” You teased him, a smile playing on your lips.

“Pfft yeah right.” Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, sorry Stitch, unfortunately I kinda love him the most.” You said with mock sadness in your tone.

“Unfortunately my ass!” He grumbled and you laughed at that.

“I love you. So so much.” You said, pecking his lips.

“I know. Now get your cute butt in the car. It’s getting late and we gotta go home.” He said, lightly smacking your ass as you rounded the car to take a seat.

“Plus, I gotta show you just how much I love you for getting me that slinky.” He winked, suggestively, getting into the car.

“Oh I can’t wait.” You winked back.

*****

WHAT DID YOU THINK ABOUT IT?!

TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS PLEASE!!!

Tags - @agirlwithdemonblood | @eevvvaa | @msmarvelouswinchester | @waynes-multiverse | @deanwithscissors | @jay-and-dean | @stitchintimefan

[darthwheezely]

dating fred weasley and being a ravenclaw

wow i am a SIMP for this man! this ain’t new info but! he is truly such a divine man and like…yeah i had to- also this might be longer because Fred has a lot more things to cover in terms of this and his own issues sksksjjs

warnings: light smut, angst at parts, wicked hot men named frederick gideon weasley, mentions of sexual degrading and not the hot or kinky kind :/ basically dudes being scumbags

people that might like this (?): @whiz-bangs78 @wand3ringr0s3 @gcdric @thatdumbbitchxx @pansydaisy​@vogueweasley @slytherinsunrise @thehufflepuffwife @theweasleyslut dm me to be on the twins taglist or for requests for blurbs/ships/one shots :)

fred thinks you’re an actual literal on god 111% angel sent by god

i swear-

he basically runs into (…literally) when escaping from filch, and knocks into you coming out of transfiguration

and i shit you not, he catches you by the waist like mid dip

oh my GOD please I’m in love with him

Fred Weasley, professional jackass, looked down at you hand still on your waist. He grinned at you and winked and you swore to god you heard the sparkle sound effect. “Hullo, gorgeous.” He heard filch scream “WEASLEY!” and broke away from you, pulling you up and pushing you off of him, leading a running filch to slip in the middle of the hallway, the hall erupting in laughter: including you. Fred inhaled harshly, heart pounding at you laughing at something he managed to pull off. “I’ll…I’ll see you again, yeah?” You froze smiling in place. “Um…yeah…yeah you will?” “Yeah?” He grinned. “Yeah.” With another wink he sped off down the hall…

he couldn’t stop thinking about the wicked hot girl in the hall

god what house was she he thought?

oh shit she had blue on fuck she’s a ravenclaw he thinks. why does he think like that?

she’s outta my goddamn league, he thought before he could stop himself

“Freddie, I know you’re not giving up on the idea of this girl this easy.” George shook his head smirking in the Hall.

“I’m not giving up on anything - she’s just…too good for me.”

“Mate, you know nothing about her except how her eyes ‘sparkled like the stars’ or some whack Tolstoy shit like that…besides, you always did love a challenge, yeah?” At that Fred grinned.

“Georgie, I was thinking exactly the same thing…”

frederick gideon weasley knew what he had to do

FUCKING RUN AROUND THE CASTLE AND LOOK FOR YOU DUH

i swear he probably skipped like a half a day of classes just running from classroom to classroom tryna find your gorgeous self

he also probably was like “anyone seen a literal angel around” and everyone was just like ~please shoot this kid he cannot be deadass~

anyway, he’s starting to run out of breath guys, pobrecito is about to give up for the day and throw in the towel but then

then, fellas and foals-

he sees you

sitting in the center of the quidditch pitch

reading a book and writing in your notebook

and god when i tell you he physically had his ass floored

i mean, Jesus Christ, it’s the way you were just serenely sitting in HIS favorite place in hogwarts, not even in the stands, just absorbing life in the ACTUAL PITCH just

just being there

“What are you doing here, love?” You look up and see Fred, chest heaving, rosy cheeked and fucking glorious. He looked otherworldly with the sun at his back, seemingly glowing. “Knitting a sweater.” You said coolly, and gave a small smile. He bit his lip and made his way over to you and sat down in front of you.

“I’d like that sweater somewhere else, gorgeous.”

“Where, in your mum’s dirty laundry?” He scoffed

“No silly, on me but I’ll take that option too ;)”

You scoffed back and rolled your eyes. “On you? Please, this is made to fit an actual person with a body, Fred.”

“And I don’t have a good enough body for it?”

You bit your lip, gathering courage to look straight back at him. “I wouldn’t know I haven’t seen it.”

and that alone has Fred Weasley garnering a massive tent in his pants

He gulped. “Whats your name, darling?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

He grinned, blushing wildly. “Y/N, you’re never getting rid of me now”

that, my dear, was the truth at its finest

for the first time, he’d found a woman that matched his energy

his banter his intellectual mind was finally satisfied by this beautiful, honest, blunt girl that made him

HIM, THE MAN THAT CAN NEVER SHUT THE FUCK UP, be still.

be quiet. be at peace

“freddie, don’t fucking prank first years you’re better than that”

“Fred, please don’t be a bully. You’re not an unkind person so don’t act that way, okay? Come on”

it’s about three to five days of just non stop flirting

constantly leaving him breathless and without a rebuttal, again something no one has ever been able to do

after this period, he’s eating in the great hall, not having talked to you today and bouncing his knees violently

and he sees you get up and leave the hall

this prompts him to get up and run after you

“Y/N!” You turn to see him running full speed behind you, and you smile widely, blushing a fair ton as he stops in front of you, chest heaving. Your smile falters as he doesn’t say anything “Fred, w-what’s wrong?” He then bites his lip “I’m sorry but I have to” and presses his mouth to yours. You kiss back immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck as he backs you up against the wall. The kiss is hungry, passionate, and after a few moments he pulls off you and leans his forehead to yours. “I need you.” He says hoarsely. “And I need YOU, Freddie.” He smiles and you wrap your legs around his waist…

from that moment, you two are inseparable

we are talking handsy too

oh fuck this about to get fluffy as hell

freddie basically waits until you’re out of class and then will pin you against the wall and kiss you like he hasn’t seen you in years

“My angel, it’s been far too long.” He says breathlessly, smiling wide before giving you a kiss attack, sending ammunition of kisses all around your face, making you giggle uncontrollably. “My love, it’s only been an hour,” you say in between full body laughter. He then stops, looking at you very seriously. “Darling, that simply will not do,” he clucks and then throws you over his shoulder, sending you into fits of laughter again as he takes you to your next class.

you and fred have so much sex

empty classrooms

in his dorm

in your dorm

in the locker rooms

in the library

“Freddie, harder baby, please” you gasp out as he’s thrusting inside of you at a rhythmic pace, him slipping into you like hot oil, skin slapping as he has you in the shower. “How much do you need me, angel? Cmon love I wanna hear your words...” “yes, yes I need you please” you moan as he hits a new angle “That’s my princess, taking me so well, do you love it when I fill you up? Fuck you so good you can’t walk?” You nod and throw your head back. “Freddie, I’m gonna come” “Good girl, princess, come all over my cock” He growls setting a faster and harder pace, as he chants your name like a hymnal, his hips and movements getting sloppier as he finally releases into you, chest heaving and presses his lips to your forehead.

“Where should we try next, gorgeous, hmm? I think snape’s office should do it, he won’t even know us from the grease stains from his nose” this earns him a smack on the arm

fred marks you up constantly too

wants everyone to see how much his “good little princess” really feels

anything that says “I choose/belong to fred weasley” he’ll make you do

and you adore it and think it’s hot as fuck

he’s also marked his name onto your thighs and boobs before

george basically accepts the fact that you’re his new baby sister too, and when fred isn’t there will protect you like it ashsajdsahjsa

by this i mean fred has employed him to (but mainly george just does it because he loves you too)

but basically

during potions, draco slides in next to you and propositions you:

“How about we strike a deal, Y/L/N?” He looks at you smugly. You roll your jaw. “Yeah I agree, you shut the fuck up and let me pass our project, and I get all the credit without you destroying my handiwork?” He flares red and grabs your wrist. “I know Weaselbee the fourth probably tastes like the rest of his family - trash - but how I about I let you try something different, hmm?” You immediately pull away from him when he releases and make an attempt to focus back on your book. 

fred obviously hears about this because some slytherin guys in the hallway are talking about how much Y/N wants to suck Malfoy’s dick

he’s not stupid, he knows you get sexualized by that dumbass constantly, even before y’all started dating

basically he finds draco in the boys bathroom, corners him, and beats the fuck out of him 

“if you ever get near my girlfriend again, i swear to godric i won’t be so nice next time - don’t wanna get your balls cut off before 17 do you?” 

oh and he’s stupid hot when he’s mad btw but we all been knew

he finds you where he always finds you once you start dating, in his dorm stop his bed

He swallows thickly at the sight of you clearly upset, watching you sit up immediately tears welling in your throat as you begin to apologize. “Freddie, love, I didn’t do anything I promise I didn’t want him to come onto me-“ “Y/N, it’s never your fault. You have to trust me with that I...I hate seeing people hurt you love.” He pulls your body into him whne he reaches the bed, touching you like you’re porcelain, careful not to break you. “I know I get violent and angry or pouty when guys do that to you because I feel like you’ll either choose someone else or I can’t protect you and...you mean everything to me, my angel.” He whispers into your hair, tears stealing on his cheeks. “I promise no one will hurt you anymore because I love you and loving someone means you do anything for them.” He babbles like a small boy, convincing himself of everything until he realizes he’s said it and he inhales. “Y/N y-you don’t have to say it ba-“ “I want to say it back. Remember? I love you and I need you, Fred.” You look up at him softly, chin on his chest and he smiles through tears on his face. “And I love you and I need YOU, my love.”

fred knows you love him and choose him over everyone but again

he gets insecure

in the way George is scared people won’t see him as Fred

fred is afraid you’ll find someone better

someone more stable and less quick tempered

you guys have fights sometimes that end in frustration or angry sex

but fred is always there an hour later sitting outside your dorm door praying to god you forgive him for his mistake

he’s never abusive or malicious

he just gets impulsive with pranks or doesn’t consider feelings sometimes

ON TO THE BURROW!!!!

molly is so thankful for you and hugs you immediately as you walk through the door whispering

“Thank you for making my son feel how he deserves” and your eyes water lightly murmuring a thank you

you instantly catch bill’s attention as he notices the way fred is so much calmer and confident with you around

he seems more sure of himself, and not as angry

his temper too is calmer with your presence, as if the very essence of you is soothing to all youre around

he is, so so in love with you

and yes he can be brash

and yes he can be insecure

and yes he can be impulsive

but yes he would do anything for you

but yes he sees you like no one else can

but yes he knows you struggle and he wants to be there

fred weasley is absolutely incandescently in love with you

and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[witchy-jadda]

rott spoilers ahead

so i’ve given myself some time to think about everything and try to process it all and here are some of my thoughts on trollhunters: rise of the titans...

- straight off the bat, i loved the intro. opening with blinky telling the story of what happened up until this point was incredible. i would have loved if they had circled back to this though (i saw someone else say it should have been him telling the story to jim and claire’s kids and i loved that idea!)

- i also liked that they didn’t waste time at the start, instead they just jumped right into the action which was fun.

- honestly, i thought jim’s plotline throughout the movie where he basically thought he was useless without the amulet was just really not fun to watch. i understand why it was there and it played into the climax but i really did not find it one bit necessary seeing as i felt that we have grown beyond that. i felt it was overused. we’ve been there before and jim is aware that he’s the trollhunter, amulet or not.

- douxie being so soft with nari was genuinely one of the most heartwarming parts of the movie. i feel that we were really robbed of so much potential with douxie in this movie though. we didn’t see nearly enough of him. it seemed that the writers were picking and choosing when to remember how powerful he is. switching with nari and connecting to her are two examples of when they actually used his power, but aside from that they just disregarded it a lot.

- and speaking of forgetting how powerful people are... i’m genuinely so hurt and let down over what they did to claire. do they not realise how powerful she is? did they just forget about her character arc? it sure felt like it. she got to use her powers a few times (connecting to nari, portalling the titan, etc) but mostly it felt like she was saying she was spent and therefore unable to do anything. she is so strong and so powerful, and that’s just so empowering - especially for young girls. and then it kinda felt to me that rott was reducing her to basically nothing more than jim’s love interest.

- okay another quick note, it kinda felt to me that krel’s potential was also pretty wasted? he barely did anything and i just think he deserved more too.

- ew okay i don’t even want to think about it but i know i can’t discuss rott without talking about the mpreg thing. seriously, what the fuck was that? at first, i thought it was going to be a joke. i thought aja and krel were gonna wind steve up and see how far they could go with making him think he was pregnant just for a little bit of comic relief. but then he was actually pregnant. and so i laughed, because even though it was dumb it was kind of funny. weird and unexpected, but kind of funny. but by the time the movie was over it just didn’t sit right with me. looking past the fact that it was just more of them making steve’s character into a joke, i couldn’t see the logic in giving so much time to that subplot when other characters (claire, douxie) and other relationships (claire and douxie’s friendship) were sidelined. maybe if he had gotten a whole season the mpreg thing could have been included as comic relief or whatever, but with such limited time i really don’t see the point of wasting so much time on something so pointless. 

- speaking of steve, i need to talk about creepslayerz... they really deserved more :( like i get that eli literally helped steve through child birth and then named one after him which was lowkey adorable but i loved their friendship so much and i was really hoping to see more of them. i was kind of hoping they’d get to do more as well. look i gave up on hopes of a romance long ago (even though i still really wished it would happen) but i hoped that at least we’d see some more of their friendship.

* by this point my brain has decided to forget absolutely every point i wanted to make... cue the brain fog (we don’t like her) and allow me to take a moment to read back and try to find my point again *

- i don’t think i can stress enough how much i loved the visuals in this movie. holy fucking shit it was just phenomenal. like wow. the art was absolutely fantastic and i’m really hoping for another the art of... book because i love the art of trollhunters and i feel that they could do with updating it to include the newer stuff. but yep, the animation quality was incredible and i don’t have a bad thing to say about it because just wow.

- speaking of art... a moment of appreciation for character designs. just wow wow wow. we love to see such intricately designed villains. we love to see growth in our other much loved characters. and the locations too? fantastic. beautiful. amazing. loved it.

- another moment of appreciation for jim. the hair. the scars. the injuries. the winter jacket. the fact that he looked a little older.... loved it. loved it, loved it, loved it. i cannot wait to spend hours pouring over reference pictures to draw them all.

- and claire... her armor being weathered and worn. her eyes!! her hair looked great as always. i just love her...

- nari nari nari... my goodness, her magic is so beautiful. i wish we got to see more.

- also, the jlaire moments were very cute. their kisses? so soft. they literally love each other so much. i adore them.

- what happened to the babies from the darklands btw? is not enrique just chilling in the lake’s house with a ton of babies? 

- barbara deserved better. i would have liked to see her and strickler happy.

- on that note, why the actual fuck did they think a few explosives would win against magic?? literal ancient magic and these dumbasses were like huh i guess we should blow it up. i’m sorry, what?? y’all are stupid.

* currently trying to think of every possible point that isn’t to do with the ending because i really don’t want to think about that yet *

- the whole thing with archie and charlemagne felt super unnecessary. like usually characters sacrifice themselves and it’s like sad and you can see the reasoning and stuff. but they literally could have gotten out. i really did not vibe with that. it felt like they just did that to leave douxie with no one.

- that trollmarket was beautiful though.

- speaking of trollmarket... they really restored the heartstone just like that? are you joking? i was not impressed at all. the heartstone was dead and gone, could not be destroyed. did they just forget that? half the shit in wizards wouldn’t have happened if the heartstone could have been restored. very pissed off by that. it was dead, that was it.

- okay back to jim... love that he pulled the sword from the stone. it was cute that it was a group effort, kinda would have preferred if it was just him but that’s just a me thing. and maybe me and my daylight tattoo are biased here, but excalibur is not half as pretty as daylight.

- not gonna lie, jim yelling come on trollhunters! kinda got me. i was very emotional watching this.

- i think the most in character jim moment of the whole movie was when he dropped excalibur, he didn’t have his armor, he was all alone and he decided to make a fist and fight the wizard/god with literally no weapon or means of defence. i don’t think y’all understand how much i love this dumb self sacrificing selfless boy. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, he is literally one of my most favourite characters of all time. i love him with all my heart.

- the armor!! wow wow wow. that was a fucking cool scene. beautiful.

- jim getting stabbed or whatever with that fucking spear thing nearly killed me.

- okay here goes... toby. my sweet toby. jim and toby’s friendship is one of my absolute favourites ever. my goodness. and toby getting in the van and going to save jim was incredible and such a toby thing to do. of course he would think of doing that.

- but like seriously... claire and douxie are so fucking powerful and they were both just like lol i guess we can’t do anything to help jim? i’m sorry what?? don’t tell me that claire wouldn’t go full on black and purple eyes and get herself up their to him. i just... i’m so bothered by the fact that they were sidelined y’all :|

- also, do not seriously try to tell me that aaarrrgghh!!! would let toby go on his own. he would have went with him. he would have followed him.

- literally as jim was falling the first thing that went through my mind was oh aaarrrgghh!!! is gonna run up and catch him.

- and while we’re on the topic of aaarrrgghh!!! why tf did they have such a build up that something was going to happen to either him or blinky for literally no reason? wtf

- aaarrrgghh!!! would not have let toby go alone!!! if he had been there, he would have protected toby, he would have saved him and none of that mess of an ending would have happened.

* ugh here’s the bit i was dreading... the ending *

- first off, i am choosing to ignore it.

- time stone? really? we’re... we’re gonna do this? literally one of the most original things i have ever watched is now - at the literal last possible minute - rip off another movie?? really?? whyyyy???

- i literally cannot express how much i hated it. it was so fucking unnecessary.

- he didn’t need to go back that far!!!

- i’m actually trying to block this out but i suppose i have to at least touch on it. jim would never ever put that burden on to toby. he just wouldn’t. before even looking at all of the other issues with toby getting the amulet, i need to say that. it just wouldn’t happen. he struggled so much with being the trollhunter, he wouldn’t put that on toby. 

- also toby literally never wanted to be the trollhunter?? he never wanted the amulet? he wanted to be a duke and have his war hammer and go on adventures with his best friend and his wingman and eat mexican food.

- okay so um i guess they all just forgot about unbecoming? cool cool cool.

- seriously though, was it not established many times that jim literally had to be trollhunter? and if he wasn’t it would be draal and everything would go to shit? did they just forget about that??

- having jim just decide to give toby the amulet literally takes away from the entire meaning behind jim getting the amulet and becoming the trollhunter. the amulet chose jim. merlin chose him. out of all of the creatures in the world, it had to be jim. he can’t just give that to toby!!

- and as much as i love toby, he would not last a day as trollhunter.

- and that’s not even beginning to mention all that jim erased by not becoming trollhunter. no father son relationship between him and blinky. they didn’t stop steve from picking on eli so no steve redemption and no creepslayerz. is he just going to allow enrique to be taken? toby will not have the same incentive to go into the darklands to save him if that’s the case. strickler will not show any sort of sentiment towards toby either. and then the big one...

- IS THAT FUCKER REALLY GOING TO ALLOW CLAIRE TO NOT GET HER POWERS??? WHAT???

- if jim isn’t trollhunter and the whole thing with enrique doesn’t happen then claire will never get her shadowstaff. let’s be real, strickler probably wouldn’t even need angor rot with toby as trollhunter. somehow i can’t see him making it that far...

- if claire doesn’t have her shadow staff then the whole thing with morgana won’t happen. she won’t destroy the shadow staff and then she will never develop her powers. would jim really rob her of that?

- okay i can’t do anymore, it’s too much for me now...

- i touched on this already in a separate post but i gotta say it again... i did not enjoy the destiny is a gift bit at the end. first of all, jim having toby find the amulet literally takes the meaning of that speech and his destiny away instanty. and second, i just could not stand hearing emile hirsch say the words that belonged to anton yelchin. it was just uncomfortable.

aaand i think i’m done. maybe i’ll have more later but i have a headache now from all of this.

[sukirichi]

Like, what happens to Mia? How does Gojo end up picking us? Naoya? How about Naoya? 😭😭😭🙏🏼😔

Omggg if you’re not going to continue reckless, can you please please please tell us how it ends? 😭😭😭 I don’t think I can bear living not knowing how it ends 😭 please? 😔😢🙏🏼😭

okay well here’s how it was gonna go, pls keep in mind my storytelling in asks and in writing are diff so this might be explained crappily HAHAHAHA but basically in reckless...

gojo gets shot in the head by his abusive dad bcos he finally stood up against him, but that backfired. his father is really adamant on control, and gojo loses his memories at the same time y/n gave birth. she decided to keep the baby after deciding that she wants a family after all, but when gojo woke up with mixed and lost memories, he only remembers mia and everything after her accident was gone. gojo becomes distorted and even becomes harsh sometimes, especially when y/n said they had a baby and she was his friend, bcos gojo’s mindset was from way back to six years ago, where he had lots of issues with his family and mia’s that he was wary who to trust.

so,,, they didn’t want gojo to hurt y/n bcos he’s such in an emotional mess that he has no control of himself. eventually, y/n decides to stay away but the baby is adopted by gojo and mia, who gets married for the sake of business and gojo’s current situation. truthfully, mia doesn’t want to marry him bcos it would hurt y/n and she’s not that awful. mia and y/n become friends after realizing they’re pretty similar and actually find genuine friendship with one another. she doesn’t have a choice tho and gojo, mia, along with gojo’s mom who divorced her husband for his abuse move to the states where they raised y/n and gojo’s daughter, sayori, leaving y/n all alone in tokyo who then becomes vice president of kamo enterprises. basically, it shows the repeated history of y/n’s father choosing to hide her from her real parents, and she begins to understand why he did that bcos she also has not really met her own daughter. y/n knows mia and gojo could take care of sayori better than she could, especially with the fact that gojo’s memories are mixed and transfixed on the timeline of him dating mia, mia giving birth to sayori, then them getting married. y/n is not present at all in his memories. gojo thinks he was the one in a car accident, not mia.

sayori is about four years old when gojo decides to come back to tokyo. now that he’s disowned and his mother has also left, gojo becomes a successful model in the states. he comes home bcos he remembers geto and wants to start their own agency (gojo as a model, geto as the photographer.) mia is wary at first for fear gojo might remember everything. she’s not being selfish; the doctors warned that anything that could potentially trigger gojo’s memories that his subconscious has erased could be detrimental to him. mia tries to hold it off but gojo insists, so the gojo/yamazaki family go back and that’s where gojo meets y/n, who he first thought was geto’s new wife.

in the reckless fanart, geto’s photo is like this.

geto’s ring is silver - it’s his dead wife’s ring. the hand caressing him is gold - it’s y/n wearing the ring of gojo’s mother, who by then has already apologized before they all left.

geto and y/n become best friends on the course of four years. missing her daughter, y/n becomes attached to mei (geto’s daughter) and acts more like a mom than an aunt. geto basks in this faux family they’ve built, though he makes sure mei is not too dependent or expecting that y/n would be her mom. he falls in love with y/n and he notices how after gojo left, she becomes softer and a lot sweeter. all the anger and hatred disappeared, all thanks to y/n finding peace with her new life and making up with her mother, Valeria, who once overdosed on drugs after it was exposed to the public that Y/N is a child she abandoned. y/n saved Valeria by rushing her to the hospital, which is also the same time that Y/N saw gojo being wheeled in the emergency room with a bullet in his head.

now that gojo is back, he can’t help but notice that y/n is avoiding him. she feels familiar but he plays it off over her being a close friend and possible lover of geto. meanwhile, y/n’s dedication to pretending he doesn’t exist breaks slowly when she sees sayori, a beautiful little girl who’s growing up, call mia as her “mommy.” it hurts her that she missed her first words, first steps, or that she’s being excluded in the family that is truly hers, but everyone is happy and doing great that she chooses to be the only who isn’t for the sake of everyone else.

in ch2, gojo goes to a carnival/amusement park and takes a polaroid photo with y/n. he finds them in one of the stuff he left behind in the penthouse he used to live in; shocked bcos y/n had been adamant they never met before. that’s when he begins to confront her on who she really is what they really used to be. he feels guilty that he can’t remember, but most of all, gojo is torn inside that y/n had been all alone the whole time when he promised he would be there.

its complicated for them since gojo x mia are already married, and sayori got her mom’s stubborness so its difficult for her to believe someone she never met before is her real mom and mia is...well, mia. mia actually helps sayori accept that she is not the real mom, apologizing to the child for lying to them and it ends up with sayori running away and getting lost for a few hours. sayori is scared since tokyo is alien to her and she doesn’t speak japanese, but when y/n finds her, she comes running to her arms and that is when she begins to soften up around her real mom.

this is where the slowburn with gojo and y/n begins. for them, getting to know each other once more on a clean slate is both refreshing yet scary, especially since one has erased the past in their mind and the other is desperately trying to forget it. the thing about the mia x gojo as a married couple and parents is that gojo deep down feels he does not love mia that way. he can’t explain why there’s just something missing or confusing in his life. he loves mia out of respect and friendship, but he would never admit that he is not in love with his wife. however, he plays it over the fact that its “just the broken memories” and lies to himself that he is very much in love with her. when he meets y/n again, however, it makes sense. he does love y/n and him forgetting her was a defense mechanism of his system to erase the most painful times of his life, and that included his guilt for hurting y/n with the abuse of his parents who controlled the way he acted around her. as for mia, she also does not love gojo and she probably never did, but for the sake of his well being and for sayori’s future (which was entrusted to her by y/n) she stayed with him. now though, mia knows its time to let go.

geto...it is not easy for geto. he loves y/n so much because of her tenacity and kindness, but he also loves her enough to know she is happier with someone else. to him, he’s content knowing that she felt less lonely when he was around and that he helped make her smile. in the end, geto has closure with y/n who apologizes for not returning his feelings.

NAOYAAAAA though...ofc i gave him a good ending 💕 after he was brutally rejected by Mia, y/n cheers him up by setting Naoya up with a law professor around his age, who is Ayame. Ayame is supposed to be named Suki tbh 😋 but I thought the self insert is a little too much so I changed it to Ayame. Ayame is pretty funny and even respects that Naoya is uncomfortable on the first date, telling him that it doesn’t have to be that kind of date and she doesn’t expect anything from him. Ayame’s bubbly yet blunt nature is a breath of fresh air from Mia’s secretive and perfectionist nature and the two become good friends. Naoya and Ayame end up hanging out a lot bcos “thats what friends do” but it doesn’t take long before they go out together. And ofc, Naoya is a little ashamed that Ayame was the first to confess and she beat him to it, but they get married and are happy nonetheless 💕 Mia ends up as a successful doctor who helps her family with the business, divorces Gojo, but she still has no plans to marry and is perfectly happy and content to focus on her career.

Eventually, Gojo and Y/N get married once everything is sorted out. Gojo becomes a well known model in Tokyo as well, and Gojo Group is absorbed by Y/N herself after proving Gojo’s father guilty of attempted murder. Gojo doesn’t want anything more to do with the corporate world though, but Y/N stays and kicks ass as a vice president to all the merged companies.

Y/N and Valeria also makes up after Valeria is indebted to Y/N who saved her life, and Valeria’s parents become more supportive and start to see Valeria more as a person than a child to inherit the business. Albeit being in her 40s, Valeria enjoys the youth she lost only now, but also enjoys being the grandmother to Sayori. Its a little awkward between Valeria and Y/N after everything that happened, but they’re trying and are even dubbed as the iconic motherly duo who is unbeatable in their games.

Gojo’s father is thrown into prison, and his main victim, his own wife, also shows recovery from the years of abuse. Although her obsessive control with Gojo and his sister (the eldest Gojo child) was not right, his mom was left with no choice but to keep them on close watch and control their lives because she was trying to keep them safe from their father’s wrath. In the end, Gojo’s mom makes up by being a better mother, and Gojo and his sister forgives her while also apologizing that both of them left home when they knew their mom always shouldered the abuse to protect her kids.

Overall, its a happy ending for most of the characters! the last chapter is Sayori’s wedding to Naoya and Ayame’s son, Naori, who is a few years younger than his bride. Gojo is grumbling to Y/N about how his little girl is all grown up now, and that their son, Shinichiro, who is 18 in that timeline is also maturing and would be leaving the nest soon. Y/N thinks its adorable and asks Gojo to just enjoy the union because its only one of the many great memories they would still have to make.

That’s how it would end! Gojo Best Dad and Gojo DILF. Everyone is happy!

Basically the theme of Reckless is that sometimes the most unexpected things we do out of character can end up as one of the greatest things to ever happen, which in their case was the suprise baby. They went through a lot and it has a lot of psychological themes, along with heavy family drama, but overall I wanted the series to be a heartwarming one by the end. I really would’ve loved to see it all happen but I am also happy to share it to you guys in this way.

So yeah, happy reading and thanks so much for supporting Reckless !! I was also thinking of doing maybe like a bonus chapter where the characters pretend it was all a movie and they’re actors that you can talk to, but that didn’t happen so :// anyways I hope you enjoyed this and thank you for reading up until here 💕

[oftenderweapons]

Into you | Yoongi

This fic was posted for the June Writing game A Summer Night's Dream, hosted by Professor Dove through @bangtansorciere

AU Types/Tropes: Silvery & Hush Established Relationship AU

Themes: Pining

Kinks: Marking, Fingering, Handjob, Blowjob, Edging, Overstimulation, Sex Toy Usage, (Praise kink, if you squint).

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten)

Wordcount: 6.3k

Genre: pwp (very little plot) smut, fluff, established relationship, idol!AU

Rating: 18+

Synopsis: we've all been traumatised by SoWooJoo!Yoongi, but apparently Kitten has very fancy ways of reacting to trauma. Expect a very special, very fond ending.

Trigger warnings: first of all, this is basically unedited, I'm sorry. Now on to canonical warnings: swearing, domme!reader, sub!Yoongi; assplay, rimming, anal fingering (all male receiving); edging (male receiving), marking (male and female receiving); blindfold and handcuffs (male reeciving), spit play, blowjob (male giving and receiving. yeah, he's blowing the strap, it's a thing, believe me. a hot thing too), brief oral, (female receiving); grinding/humping, masturbation (female), cum play/eating, lots of lube ofc, strap on/pegging, lots of possessiveness, very mild degradation (very fond, he calls her bitch but very, very affectionately), overstimulation, cumshots (plural, very messy). Lowkey voyeurism (it's in the final extra). The sex described is overall as safe as sex can be, with the exception of all anything oral and all the cum eating. That is not safe, get tested before you do that with your partner. Sorry, the warnings are very detailed but this is sort of different from what I usually write, so i tried to be extra careful.

Thanking the wifey, @joheunsaram for being the eternal sweetheart 💜💜💜

Here is my masterlist and well, enjoy!

When Yoongi came through the door, he looked quite happy, though his expression was slightly tired.

“Kitten?” he called, looking for you in the living room, and kitchen. Were you still working? He hoped you weren’t. Maybe you were still with the girls. But after two hours?

And then you appeared. Naked, leaning against the bedroom door.

“Hi, kitty cat.”

He hummed and grinned as he stared at your silhouette. “Is that for me?”

You nodded and walked towards him, staring at the way he bit his lip as he observed your swaying hips, the curves of your breasts. You laughed. He knew so little, poor boy. “It sure is,” you purred before hugging him, acting as if you were just going in for some intimacy before you found your target, grabbing his left asscheek while your other hand slid from his spine to his side to his stomach, all the way down to belly, teasing his belt and heading further down, cupping his crotch.

His mouth opened as he exhaled, his hot breath fanning over your bare chest. “You know what you want, don’t you?”

“I’ve always known it,” you replied, stroking him through his jeans. “I don’t think I could want anything else after what you put me through tonight.”

“Did you and the girls enjoy the show?” he asked, mouthing at your neck, feeling the heavy thump of your vein underneath the sensitive tip of his tongue.

“I believe Candy fainted or climaxed a couple times,” you considered, feeling Yoongi chuckle beneath your jaw.

“The kid will be getting it good tonight.”

You smirked, starting to undo his belt. “He's not the only one,” you teased before your hand dove into his pants, feeling him up. “Now I want you to focus on me, though,” you said with a pout, tracing the shape of his lips with a finger. “I want to blow your mind.”

He was speechless as he nodded, his mouth gently agape as you gripped the neckline of his shirt and dragged him to the bedroom. He wasn’t entirely sure he knew what was going to happen, what he did know was that he liked it, and he hoped you would walk the talk till the very end. Somehow, tonight he needed you to.

“What are you thinking of?” you started, your hands undoing the buttons of his shirt.

He placed his hands on your waist, caressing up and down your sides. “How much I love you.”

You smiled and knelt in front of him, kissing his belly button before nibbling on the soft skin just below it. “You’re such a liar.”

“You would be too dangerous if you knew the truth,” he hinted vaguely, pushing your hair back as you kissed his happy trail, your hands slithering into the back of his trousers and slowly, painfully slowly, pulling them down. Unintentionally, his underwear slid down too, his erection springing free against your cheek, a tight hiss coming out of his gritted teeth at the impact.

“Come on, darling,” you cooed before licking up the shaft of his cock. “Won’t you tell me?”

He was tempted to let you continue, making you become dirtier and dirtier as you tried to get him to talk; however, he was too eager to play other games with you. “I’m hoping you’re going to dominate me.”

You looked up at him.

“I want you to fuck me.” He looked away, his cheeks hot as he murmured the two words. “Ruin me.”

You stood immediately, placing your hands on his cheeks, combing his blonde locks back. “What am I allowed to do?” you asked, giving him a soft peck on the lips.

“You pick.”

You felt your soul leave your body. “Get on the bed. All fours.”

Yoongi bit his lip as he felt you switch, your demeanour getting assertive in a second. He loved when it happened. He loved feeling you so at ease with him to let yourself act upon your most animalistic instincts. He wasn’t sure of what it meant to him, but he loved being used by you. And he loved being part of your darkest, most unspeakable fantasies. He loved being kept in that sweet, dark place that was your libido, knowing he would always be the only one residing there, because he trusted you when you told him he was the only one you wanted.

And from the way you made love to him, night after night, he could feel it was true.

He heard a low buzz starting in the room, the sound almost disturbing compared to the quiet harmony of your breathing and his chasing each other.

He felt exposed on the large bed, lonely as you circled around it, around him.

The buzzing stopped.

“Love, would you like wearing a blindfold?” you asked, letting him choose on such an insubstantial matter. It wasn’t your main focus anyway.

Yoongi thought about it for a minute. Could he? Did he want to?

And then he remembered how he had trusted you that one time. “I want to.”

You grinned and held the silk piece between your hands, kneeling behind him on the bed and pressing your hips to his ass, beginning to work him up while you slipped the fabric over his eyes. “All fixed?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, the tone excessively teasing for that to be actual submission.

“Are you all cleaned up?”

He nodded while unconsciously pressing his ass to your hips. “All clean.”

You smiled. “Did you do this in the hope I would use you tonight?” you inquired, feeling him nod as his hair tickled your arms.

“A man can hope,” he replied mischievously.

“Do you need to be used, Yoongi?” The question rang in the room for three full seconds.

“I’m yours to use.”

“Good.” You rose from the bed, picking all your tools of choice. “Let’s get this started.”

Yoongi was in for a long night.

The first thing he felt was the squelching noise of your hands getting wet, next a vague pineapple smell drifting through the room. He could somehow imagine that the thump he heard next, with a click following, was you, putting down the bottle of lube and closing the cap.

“Does your shoulder hurt, love?” you asked, kissing his back. Though the surgery and the recovery was almost complete, you still treated it gently — mostly because you liked spoiling him and babying him.

“I’m okay, don’t worry,” he replied with certainty.

You hummed and tickled his nape. “Good boy,” you praised before bringing your hand around his waist, finding his cock and starting to tease him gently, with slow, light tugs that focused on finding the veins running along his shaft. They were rather delicate strokes aimed at your own pleasure rather than his. “I’ll check in on you later, okay love?”

His confirmation came through a hum that quickly turned into a moan as you reinforced your hold on him. “Yes, Kitten.” And that ‘yes’ felt more like a nod at the pleasure instead of an answer to your question. You grinned and let him live — you loved when he started growing so hazy he lost contact with reality.

While your hand kept going, you started approaching your actual target, your mouth leaving soft little nibbles on his ass, licking the skin you had just bit before moving to the next spot, making sure you left a bruise this time, Yoongi’s exhale turning into a whimper as you found the perfect spot with your thumb.

Now, the worst part of teasing Yoongi is that he loved having your mouth on him, but that automatically meant that you had to choose between his oral fixation and dirty talking, or just very mundane teasing.

“Do you like your pretty ass bit, my love?” The question was spoken softly, with your deepest voice, the one that always drove him insane. He called it your bedroom voice, velvety, low, sultry and so elegantly feminine. In his mind it looked like a black panther to him, hiding deep in the forest of his desire.

“I like anything you do to me,” he replied, trusting you blindly — quite literally — as you lead him exactly where you wanted him to be, in places he’d never had the courage to explore by himself.

“I love you, Yoongi,” you rewarded him, giving him that safety, that reassurance you knew he needed to take the next step.

“Love you,” he replied meekly, his breath laboured. And then he felt it, your mouth, lingering in between his asscheeks before you pushed them apart, dipping your tongue into the crevice and lashing it against the rim of muscles around his hole.

“Kitten,” he cried out, getting on his elbows, spreading his legs and arching his back to offer himself more fully.

You hummed, appreciating his new position. You wanted to answer him so much, but you kept going, rubbing the skin between his testicles and his anus with your thumb, covered in latex and lube. It was the easiest way — which you had learnt the hard way. Lubrication seemed to last longer on the gloves, and you were okay with sacrificing skin-to-skin contact when the glove allowed you an efficient job, and a quick clean hand when he needed aftercare.

As you let your spit dribble down his skin, meeting your finger, you rested for a second. “Do you still want my tongue or would you like my fingers, babe?”

He groaned and started moving to push his cock into your hand.

You loosened the grip, the touch too light to give him the friction and pressure he wanted. “I said, my tongue or my fingers, Yoongi.”

“Fingers, finger!” he replied quickly — anything to get your grip back on his cock. He needed it, he was desperate and foolish and he needed it so bad.

And then you pushed your middle finger inside, a gasp and a moan exiting his mouth as he crumbled forward a little, clawing at the sheet, the lack of vision unsettling him a little. “Oh god, Kitten! Just like that!”

You grinned and started moving your finger inside just barely, beginning to work at his inner walls little by little, stroking his cock every time he got too quiet.

“Do you know how many people wish they could do this to you?” you teased before bringing your finger out, stretching his entrance and pouring more lube onto the glove. “Do you know how many people want to be in my place, right now?”

He shook his head, too overwhelmed to think, to speak.

“Everyone wants to fuck you. Or be fucked by you,” you murmured, adding one more finger and catching him by surprise. “Everyone wants to suck your beautiful dick. My dick.”

He cried out your name as you found his prostate and started rubbing your fingers gently against it. “All yours,” he purred, swirling his hips against your hand, humming when you gave him the perfect angle. “Kitten, fuck.”

“Is it turning you on?” you asked, removing your fingers to make sure he didn't cum too soon.

“Yes. Now tell me, are you edging me?”

Though his tone was requesting and assertive, you let it slip. He would go back to whining like a good sub in seconds. You placed your lips at his ear, tracing the shell with your tongue and making him arch his back. “Maybe.” You kissed his temple and smiled at him as he purred at you, trying to find anything he could kiss. “Are you in the mood for that?”

He nodded and gasped as he felt your tongue caress his lips and your fingers linger at his entrance. He opened his mouth, ready to be doubly violated, imagining you kneeling at his side.

“Do you want me inside?” you teased, your hot breath fanning over the lower half of his face.

“Yes, please,” he replied, his voice so shy and open.

You held on, caressing his ass, back and forth, slowly, sensuously before you pinched him. “Lay on our back, kitty cat. I have plans for you.”

He snickered and obeyed, curiosity and arousal being the only things keeping him from taking over. “You’re really on your worst behaviour, uh?”

You hesitated, slightly confused at what he meant. Did he like that? Did he…

“Kitten,” he called, stretching his hand and finding your leg. “Love.”

You thought it ridiculous that with such a simple comment he had managed to make your commandeering mood wobble.

He lifted his blindfold at the lack of response. “Hey?”

“Do you really want it?” You looked away from him, feeling like you were maybe pushing him too far.

He sat up to grab your chin and make you look in his direction. “I want it, Kitten. Do you want to give it to me?” You nodded, earning a peck on your lips. “Then give it to me, love.” He laid back down, and put the blindfold back on. “There, you have me. I trust you. I know our safewords. Please, do whatever you fancy.”

You blinked and gave it a try. “I love you, Yoongi.”

“I love you too, ____. I adore you. This is a judgement-free zone, love. It’s always been. It’s the two of us. Nothing can be wrong as long as it’s me and you.” His hand abandoned your leg so he could grip the headboard. “Come on, do it. I know you want it.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, already stretching to your drawer. “You want me to cuff you?”

He hummed and smiled brightly. “It was only a matter of time until you wanted the tables turned, Kitten. I accepted the idea of being cuffed the night you let me put them on you.”

You sighed and straddled his waist, stretching to the headboard to fix the prop on Yoongi, looping the links behind a bar and letting the other handcuff click close on his other wrist. “Too tight?” you checked on him, letting him tug at the restrain a little until he gave you his approval.

“It’s perfect. I’m doing perfect. Now could you please take care of my cock? It’s just a teensy tiny bit hard,” he hissed as he felt the mattress dip between his spread legs, your form crouched there right before you slipped your gloved hand under his balls, searching for the lube bottle and pouring some on your joined fingers before you dipped them in, making him groan in pleasure, your other hand running up and down his thighs as you playfully skimmed them with your nails.

“Kitten, I—” he stopped mid-sentence as he felt your lips around his soft, bulbous tip, his veins so thick you could feel them as you squished him with your cheeks, swallowing the first couple inches of the shaft and bobbing your head with the same rhythm of your fingers inside him. He exhaled, his breath coming out so hard that it resonated in small whimpers.

You let yourself continue for a while, waiting for his abdomen to start twitching right before you sucked him painfully hard, only to let him pop out of your mouth, his loud cries turning into a desperate little tumble of sobs as he felt stimulation stop entirely on all fronts.

“I only do this because it feels so good when you let me cum, but damn it feels so cruel when you edge me.” His words were raspy and vaguely ironic.

“Too cruel?” you asked, sitting up and stretching to his face.

“Perfectly cruel. I love it when you’re a bit of a bitch,” he replied with a semblance of a snicker. “You know, since I’m a bit of a saint. You balance me out.”

You grinned and pushed your naked fingers to his lips, letting him have a taste of his cum before he parted his lips wide, your face leaning over him as you made your lips touch his, your drool falling from the tip of your tongue right into his mouth.

Yoongi simply moaned at the gesture before chuckling. “That’s my lovely bitch.”

You nodded and hummed, kissing down his body, slowing down only to study the wet stain of saliva and precum pooling at his lower belly. Once at his stomach, you placed a heavy kiss there, deciding to mark your territory. You weren’t sure about what was making you feel so jealous of him all of a sudden — secretly your brain was still processing the mental image of him pole-dancing, after the guys had suggested it — nevertheless, you were a horny mess. Well, a hornier mess than usual.

Feeling your courage renewed, you stretched to his head, pulling up the blindfold. You needed him to look at you as you decided to remind him who he belonged to; however, you had to stop right on top of him as his beautiful eyes emerged, lashes fluttering softly as he stared at you, stretching to get your lips on his. As always, you gave him what he wanted, peppering a series of childish pecks over his reddened lips.

“Love you so mad,” he confessed as he watched you moving down his body, kissing the previous mark, already blooming in scarlet red and placing one right after, just one inch before his belly button. “You want me to watch you mark me up?” he questioned, his voice guttural and low pitched.

You nodded and pressed another kiss, even lower, feeling the salt of his sweat and precum sting your tongue as you sucked his skin in, feeling his taste settle in as you made sure the shape of your mouth transferred onto his flesh.

Lower some more, your index finger tracing his hard on, making him hiss.

Lower, to his pubic bone, where his shaved hair tickled you slightly.

And then up, one last hickey where the tip of his cock laid, taking note of the spot for later, when his sex would swell and twitch with a powerful orgasm, only to deflate and shorten a few minutes later, when he would grow sleepy and tender and his whole body would curl up with exhaustion. Then, you would look at the spot on his abdomen, stare at that burgundy sign and remind yourself that the tender kitty napping at your side is fucking hung — and knows exactly how to use every single inch of that beautiful dick.

And that every single one of those inches belongs to you.

With your eyes deep into his, you started sucking him some more, your fingers working in tandem as you started stretching his entrance, making sure he was absolutely ready for what would come next.

Again, his breathing started growing ragged, his wrists tugging at the cuffs as realised he was too aroused to let go of his high again. “Kitten, please…”

And that’s what broke the spell, his length sliding out of your mouth as you smirked and replied, “yes, my love?”

He threw his head back in frustration, pushing his hips up in a way that allowed him some friction against your mouth and chin before you moved away, recognising his intention. And just like that, sudden inspiration struck you, making you turn with your back to him, straddling his hips before you placed your sodden cunt over his erection, feeling the hard flesh glide easily with your drool covering it. It was almost too easy to sync that up with your fingers on your clit and the two digits still inside him. “Is this what you were begging for?”

He hummed, barely coherent as you started humping him, making him grunt and groan as he tried to get more stimulation, more sensations, something just remotely similar to your mouth sucking him off — obviously, to no avail.

You took only a few minutes to cum, deciding to do so with your hips over his face, too far for him to stretch out his tongue to taste you. And just to prove his patience further, you decided to press the softness of your boobs over his pelvis, one hand between your legs and the other one too busy to take care of him — which was actually a shame — still, you decided he was stretched and relaxed enough that you were probably ready for next step.

Plus, at this point, he was speechless, desperate and needy, begging you with a litany of ‘please’ and ‘Kitten’ and ‘let me’, all coherent thoughts out of the window as you finally came, gifting him with your open cunt right on top of his mouth as he pushed his tongue inside, humming and jerking his hips up when he finally felt your cum in his mouth, the salty, bitter tang of you so liquid and hot over his taste-buds that his eyes rolled shut and his nose sent a puff of fresh air tickling your overheated, drenched skin.

As you descended from your orgasm, slowly and carefully unstraddling Yoongi in the process, laying at his side and kissing his chest before you moved to reach his mouth, you realised he was the most incredible lover you could have ever wished for.

“Love you, baby,” you murmured at his side, watching him struggle slightly as his hands were still bound. He whined meekly as he found your lips once more, the kiss scorching hot as the two of you started moving in unison. “You still stretched?” you murmured, his confirmation coming with a brief delay as he tried to bring his brain to work.

“Do you wanna…?” Your question was vague, but Yoongi understood it nonetheless.

“Yes. I really wanna. I want it a lot,” he whispered, resting his face against the crook of your neck. You untucked him from there, drawing the shape of his lips with your finger before he swallowed one, tasting you.

You kissed the mole on his nose, on his cheek as he kept sucking, pushing your hand away as soon as you decided you needed to see him crumble. You removed the glove, reversing it inside out as you rolled it off. Next, you undid the handcuffs, making sure that Yoongi could be perfectly autonomous before you walked away from the bed to grab your required accessories from the drawer at the far corner of the room. Studying the straps and rings, you found out the correct holes for your legs to slide in, bending down to push the small harness up, getting a relatively small dildo in the ring fitting just on top of your mound, reminding yourself you should put a condom on it just to make the cleaning process easier.

Condom on, flared base holding the toy into the metal ring, you started doing the straps around your waist and ass, struggling to decide whether the harness was too loose around you.

“This is one of the sexiest things you’ve ever done,” Yoongi murmured gently from the bed, his eyes hungry and desperately in love with you. You gave a couple thrusts with your hips, feeling the addition at your pelvis and deciding that yes, it fit you perfectly.

Yoongi waited for you at the feet of the bed, kneeling, watching as you walked over to him and stood right before him.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, looking up at you, his eyes focusing on your blushing cheeks, on your turgid, red lips, at your swollen breasts and hardened nipples, following that line that lead from your sternum to your stomach to your belly, right to the toy at his eye level.

He licked his lips and kissed the tip, wishing with all of his heart that it could make you feel the same way as when he would press his barely agape lips to your clit. Grinning about your clean hand, you pushed it into his hair, combing it gently before he started taking an inch into his mouth, then another, then another, his eyes fixed on yours.

Even though you could feel nothing but the base of the dildo pressing into your skin, the sight was enough to give you a pleasure bigger than the physical one.

“You like it, my love?” you asked, watching him bob his head needily and gag before he backtracked, your thumb collecting the small tear that fell on his left cheek after his eyes watered. “You look beautiful, baby.”

He smiled and took the toy in once more, closing his eyes as he went further down on it, his hands placed on the back of your thighs as he pulled you closer, humming, sinking his pretty fingers into the flesh of your asscheeks.

“Wanna make you cum, Yoongi,” you murmured, using his hair to pull him off you.

He looked into your eyes, his lips messy with spit as he made his way to the middle of the bed, on all fours, trying to be as sexy as he could, but also feeling like he was miserably failing.

You smiled fondly at him, your reaction reassuring him as you climbed back on the bed. “How’s your shoulder, love?”

“Fine, but I prefer not staying on all fours,” he replied, getting on his knees and almost turning around before you stopped him with a hand around his waist. He knew his cock was leaking the very moment you put your hand on him, a white blob joining the ones caused by the feeling of your dildo inside his mouth and throat.

“Let’s do it like this,” you said, already pouring some lube onto the toy. “You love doing me like this,” you continued, getting both your hands around his waist and helping him scoot in between your parted thighs, the tip of the strap-on teasing the seam of his ass. “I want to feel the way you do.”

He nodded, fixing the tip to his entrance, pressing it and tipping his ass down, feeling the head fit into his hole. “Fuck,” he breathed out, abandoning himself so slowly onto the shaft, the object making his walls part until it reached his prostate, getting him to crumble entirely and sink down. “Fuck fuck fuck, thank you, Kitten, thank you so much, love,” he babbled, wiggling his hips as he found his favourite spot and started rubbing it against the dildo.

He was so grateful, so immensely thankful that you’d challenged yourself, that you’d explored so far so he could have this moment with you.

It wasn’t the first time you had tried pegging, but you hadn’t done it that much either. It was maybe your third or fourth time, but Yoongi couldn’t care any less.

The simple fact that you had agreed on trying was enough for him to be entirely smitten over you. Neither of you had even taken it into consideration when you first started dating, and now Yoongi loved how dominating and caring you became every time he felt like receiving assplay, or full-on anal sex; at the same time, you loved how vulnerable he became once you took control, and how easy it was for him to melt in your arms, or underneath you, once you started teasing his delicate hole.

As you moved into him, his back sweaty against your soft front, Yoongi threw his head back, resting it against your shoulder, mouth open, eyes closed, so heartbreakingly beautiful. You found his hand close to yours, lacing your fingers together while he found your other one, repeating the gesture right before you wrapped his arms and yours around his torso, holding him tight to you.

“I won’t let go, love,” you spoke in his ear, his whole body relaxing against you right before you gave a tentative thrust, making him whimper before he growled. “You’re safe here.”

He pouted, begging for a kiss, stretching as far as he could to get your lips against his. “Please. I love you. I want you so much. I’m so hard.” He almost sobbed when he felt you move inside again. “Please, let me cum,” he spoke, babbling slightly as you started pulling out, the dildo rubbing against his prostate. “It hurts, Kitten. Please. I wanna cum,” he sighed, gasping when you pushed back inside.

“Like this, my love?” you asked with a teasing grin, leaving a gentle peck on his delicate neck, drawing the profile of his adam’s apple with the tip of your tongue. “You’re so pretty when you beg, kitty cat.”

He moaned and shoved his hips down, gyrating them as the perfect friction hit his favourite spot. “Don’t play with me, Kitten. It’s been an hour, I’m begging you.”

“I know you can do way more than one hour, baby.” You started drawing circles on his tummy with one thumb, refusing to let go as you twisted your grip so your palm could rest on his abdomen, his own hand clinging to yours as you let your digits tiptoe further down, to the base of his cock, skimming the underside of the shaft in a way that had him setting a crushing grip on your hand.

“Kitten, I’m going mad, please. I love you. Please. Why are you so cruel to me?” he wailed, his body shaking against yours.

“Because you love it, Yoongi. Because you love me.” You chuckled as you felt his hand pressuring yours into jerking him off. “Because you let me ruin you so cutely. You’re such a pretty sight.” You decided to be merciful, starting to stroke in faster. “Because you want this, don’t you? Or you could use your safeword, my darling. I wouldn’t hold it against you, you know it.” You kissed his temple. “I’m yours, in any way you want me.”

Yoongi brought your joined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of yours. And then it hit you.

Everything was perfect. He was perfect. You felt perfect with him. And you knew he would take you, no matter how you came to him. He would take you and hold you — sad, happy, scared, excited, serene or troubled, powerful or powerless. He would wait for you and hold his arms open for you. He would kneel if you knelt, and he would rush to you if you crumbled and fell on your way to him. And he would have you, without condition.

Just like that, you went slower again, but deeper. Harder. Your hand, still teasing his cock, once more played an emotional tango as your pinkie lingered on his skin while you inverted your positions, your hand hugging his as you wrapped both your arms around his middle.

“Kitten,” he murmured, noticing that something was shifting between the two of you. “Like that, please, yes,” he said, letting the sound sibilate, giving you the answer you were searching for.

“Marry me, Yoongi.”

He opened his eyes, licking his lips as he stared at you with the widest, most incredulous eyes. “What?”

You rolled your hips good for him, making him purr and swear. “Marry me, Yoongi,” you repeated, kissing his brow. “Please, marry me.”

He twisted his head just enough to kiss the sweet spot under your ear. “Are you trying to fuck me insane so I’ll say yes?”

You chuckled. “Something like that.” You wanted to caress his hair, but holding his hands was more important — the most important thing in the world. “My heart is yours. I don’t want anyone else having it.”

Yoongi inhaled and made you tighten your grip around him. “Please,” he whined as you started going faster.

“Please what?”

“Yes,” he groaned. “Yes, yes, yes…” he said, starting to bounce on your lap, using you as he felt his cock swell, his eyelids quivering before they finally rolled shut, his release shooting out, against his chest, against your forearms and his abdomen. “Yes!” he finally growled, his expression becoming ecstatic as he rode you until not an ounce of pleasure could be drawn out anymore.

“It’s all mine,” you reminded him, his pleased smile getting even wider before he started nodding, only one of your hands leaving him as you wrapped it around his cock, even more cum coming out as you squeezed him, knowing he could be overstimulated, and that he would love it. “This cock is mine.”

He nodded, out of his mind, moaning as he reached the deepest pits of pleasure.

“And this sweet ass is, too, all mine.”

He nodded even harder, his lovely locks tickling your shoulder, his grin lopsided as he opened his eyes, brow furrowing as you smeared the cum on his chest with your fingers. “Your heart. Right here. All mine.”

“Yes, yours,” he confirmed, again getting worked up, all the edging and foreplay rewarding him with one more growing orgasm. He felt slightly sorry that you had cum only once through the night, but all his worries faded as your dirty fingers reached his lips. “These lips?”

“Yours,” he replied, automatically, opening them to suck at your digits.

“All your pleasure?” You went harder on him, ramming your hips up, feeling his muffled moans against your hand as you gritted out, “mine.”

He freed his mouth. “Yours,” he confirmed, fucking himself onto you as once more he shot another load onto his chest and abdomen, this time only barely less abundant than before. “It’s all yours. Everything. Everything,” he repeated, entirely spent as he tumbled forward, the dildo exiting him as he laid on the bed and rolled on his side, his entire body shivering with the aftershocks of pleasure as he still rolled his hips shyly, cum pooling at his slit and rolling down in heavy, white, blobs, all pressure gone after the insane amount of semen he’d shot all over himself and on the sheets.

You found a quick way to get rid of the strap on, laying behind him before he turned around, his body messy and tired. Still, you rubbed your hands all over his strained muscles, trying to ease out the sensory overload he’d just gone through.

“Yoongi,” you breathed out, before his eyes grew glittery. He smiled as the first tear rolled down.

“Did you really ask me to marry you while you were fucking my ass?” he joked, trying to hide just how emotional he felt.

“We can make up a more appropriate story to tell family and friends,” you joked back, your hands touching his face in a way that matched the feelings in his glance.

“We might have to, yes...” he conceded, finding the vaguely greenish mark between your breasts, kissing it before he renewed its bright red colour. Soon it would be purple again. “Do you really want me to be your husband?”

“I really do,” you replied without hesitation. “Do you really want to become my husband?”

“You will also become my wife in the process. Are you ready for that?” he teased, chuckling together with you.

“I’ve been told I’m a fast learner,” you cocked an eyebrow. “Great versatility,” you went on, giving him that cheeky smirk that made him know exactly what you were referring to. “I’ll learn on the go.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to agree to your proposal. You know… Taxes… Health benefits… Saving on all those boring law procedures…” he mused, his eyes telling you that it was for the most antithetical reasons that he was saying yes.

Love, faith, trust, devotion, commitment. True companionship.

“I could use a very expensive diamond ring to pay for a sugar baby once you’re old and boring.” The joke made him snicker before he placed a kiss on your lips.

“Already thinking of substituting me,” he mused, kissing you again. “I’ll buy you one of those fake stones.”

“Then I guess I’ll be stuck with you forever.” You replied, grinning. There was nothing better you could think of.

When Yoongi woke up, he felt slightly dizzy. He had slept all the way to mid morning, the aftercare so gentle and relaxing that after the bath he crashed on the fresh sheets, nuzzling his face into your chest before he fell asleep like a baby. And apparently his sleep was so heavy that he’d managed to sleep through you messing in the kitchen, baking a cake and icing it too. In your messy handwriting shining bright blue on top of the cake, the words read: ‘thank you for letting me peg you’, which genuinely stole a giggle from his throat.

What didn’t steal a giggle was a small piece of rolled up paper planted on the cake, almost resembling a small candle. He untucked it, rolling it open and reading it twice, feeling his heart swell with pride and love and gratefulness. ‘Thank you for agreeing to become my husband.’

Yoongi smiled at it, feeling his eyes growing wetter as he groaned an ‘aigoo’, standing up from the chair and finding his wallet inside his jacket. Opening it, he found the spot where he kept the cinema ticket from your first date, and the passcode to your apartment door, slipping in one more trinket of your story together.

Yoongi looked around as the other boys worked out. Maybe he shouldn’t… Maybe he should just… keep it on the down low.

And then Jeongguk, shrugged and removed his shirt, an avalanche of definitely-not-mosquito-bites covering his chest. Namjoon, spotting the maknae’s puffed out chest, pride prickling at his ego, also removed his tank top to expose the eight matching red lines down his back. He grinned even more as he turned around, small bite marks appearing at his collarbones and delicate crescent-shaped indentations on his pectorals.

Jimin blushed as he decided to pass. His marks were way too low to be shown publicly.

With a smug grin, Yoongi decided to keep his dongsaengs humble, removing his shirt only to expose a line of bruises starting at his stomach and disappearing at the waistband of his shorts.

Everyone hollered at him, Jimin chuckling before chanting, “Suga-hyung won!”

Tagging: @hesperantha

[issaxcharlie]

Falling like the stars✨

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Luke and Y/N never got to be a thing. Whatever they had ended abruptly when she settled on someone with far more status than the aspiring guitarist. Months later, now single, Luke entangles her in a scheme to make Sunset Curve more popular. The only thing she needs to do is fake date him for 2 weeks.

Songs used: Holy Ground by Taylor Swift, Loved You First by One Direction and Falling Like The Stars by James Arthur.

High school is a world by itself. It has its own system and everyone moves through it. It is something that although it is not discussed, everyone knows. Including the three members of Sunset Curve, who are lying in the yard trying to find a solution to their latest problem.

"We need more people to support our music. If we can't get this little school to support us, how are we going to fill clubs or sign with a label?” Reggie wonders aloud to himself, no matter how hard they try, they can't get the Los Feliz student body to listen to their band.

“We should have thought about it before, Reg. Now we're just the problem kids who most likely won't finish school. Why would they come to see us at those seedy little clubs when they can go show off at football games.” Luke stands up suddenly after Alex words, one of those huge smiles that comes out when he has a really bad idea on his face.

“Well it seems that the solution is easy, boys. We have to make them see us on the same level as those jocks.”

“Oh yeah, and how are we going to do that, genius?” Alex fiddles with his hands as he rests his head on Reggie, both tired of not being able to come even close to fulfilling their dream.

Luke points to the nearest post, on which there are at least 5 posters to support the homecoming king and queen.

“Really? Do you think someone would vote for you? Before all those star athletes who also have a cheerleader to back them up? You basically have just us and I don't think I can do one of those tricks.”

“We’ll think of something. Winning that stupid thing would put us directly in the top of the pyramid. We’ll find a way, we always do.” Before anyone can respond, some screaming and commotion can be heard.

“Savannah is accusing Y/N to mess with her man! Run, they are in the hall!" students mention as they start running to watch the discussion.

“Oh god, Y/N. I’ll better go and see if I can help her somehow.” Alex gets up and Reggie begins to follow him, but not before turning to make sure Luke is following too. The guitarist makes an irritated face but ends up walking behind his friends.

From the moment they enter the main hall they can hear the screeches of probably the most popular girl in school, Savannah Miller. One of those typical unbearable girls who for some reason always reach the top of the elite in schools despite treating everyone badly.

Y/N Y/L is on the other side of the discussion, she looks calm and even bored. The first thing Luke digests from Savannah's words is that she thinks Y/N was making out with her idiot of a boyfriend during third period. What's interesting about the situation is that Diego cheated on Y/N with Savannah maybe a week and a half ago and had been dating her ever since.

But that's not Y/N's style, no matter how angry she is.

Luke knows her well enough, or so he wants to believe. She was always good friends with Alex and Reggie, and her relationship with them remained strong over the years despite how unstable and fleeting her relationship with the guitarist was.

He's never going to admit how deeply he felt for her. How much it screwed him up that just when he finally began to believe they could be something else, she completely walked away from his life so she could date the man that would end up cheating on her just because he looked more promising at the time. Rich, popular, the quarterback of the football team, the ‘perfect guy’ she said to the boys.

But hey, that's past.

Luke looks up to meet Y/N's eyes on him. In the moment she realizes she was caught, she sneakily turns to Alex, who is just inches from the guitarist and smiles at him.

“Are you actually smiling? You think this is funny?” The girl looks furious, but she's smart enough not to make this a battle of strength.

“I already told you, Savannah. It wasn’t me.”

“I can count, Y/N. Neither you nor Diego were in class."

And that’s when it hits him. The possibility of getting to the top of the pyramid in front of him. Because maybe Y/N is not the most popular, but it is undoubtedly one of the most loved by everyone. Intelligent, caring, beautiful, talented. And she certainly has the status after dating Diego Hernandez for one semester. No one had managed more than 3 months with him and the guitarist thinks that was a good sign that that idiot is not a good idea but well, it wasn’t his choice.

Luke begins to walk towards the center of the circle, Alex tries to stop him but cannot catch his arm in time. Both girls turn to see him surprised, but neither says anything.

"You can go find culprits elsewhere, Y/N was busy with me at the time. You can ask whoever you want and they'll tell you that I wasn't in class during third period either."

Of course, he wasn't there because the trio got into Reggie's old truck to get some hotdogs but no one has to know that.

His hand goes to take her firmly by the hip, just like all those nights that now only remain as memories. He is looking at every inch of her face, searching for her reaction, and is surprised by the naturalness with which the girl accepts the gesture. As if his hand belongs there. And maybe, just maybe, it does.

“Do you really want me to believe this?” Savannah asks, clearly annoyed.

“Y/N and Patterson? There’s just no way in hell. C’mon babe, he’s just pathetic, you could do better.” Diego says out loud as he approaches the scene in the middle of Y/N and Savannah.

There's something about the disgruntled way they both said it that makes Luke want to prove that a girl like her could want him. He doesn’t know how to distinguish if it is pride or insecurity but at the moment he is not interested.

He's barely going to open his mouth to defend himself when Y/N starts talking. "No. You can speak as badly as you want of me but you're not going to bring Luke into this."

Luke lets go of her so he can step back a few inches and see her from a better angle. She’s definitely not calm anymore. Her face looks altered and she is undoubtedly in protective mode. She turns to see him when she feels his hand leave her body but he offers her his hand and she intertwines it between her fingers without hesitation. At this rate she is taking control of the situation so he is going to let her continue and try to achieve his goal along the way.

“I know you need a partner to have any hope of winning the crown, but choosing Patterson is a desperate move.”

And that’s his cue. "If my baby wants that crown I will get it for her. It's that easy.”

“What? I do-” At that moment Luke panics and pulls her by the hand that they have intertwined and with the other holds her face while bringing their lips together. When he reacts to what he is doing he is afraid that Y/N will push him in front of everyone but to his surprise she kisses him back instantly, releasing his hand to bring him closer to the neck.

The kiss is passionate and almost desperate, but it only lasts a few seconds since a voice brings them back.

"This feels like deja vu." Reggie whispers to Alex, they both walked during the discussion towards the circle and are so close that Luke and Y/N heard him clearly.

“Well, we already clarified that she was not with your boyfriend so, I’ll take my girl. It was a pleasure, we should repeat this another day... said no one ever." Luke takes her hand and leads her to the nearest empty living room, Reggie and Alex locking the door behind him.

“What the hell was that crown bullshit? Why did you even cover for me? What are you up to? At least tell me is fun... or that includes you shirtless.” She jokes, a cheeky smile spreads in Luke’s face.

“I need a favor and thought you’ll appreciate an alibi.” She raises her eyebrow in reflex.

“Why would I help you, Lucas?” Luke can only think of how she makes a name as simple and boring as Lucas sound so sexy when she says it. Is incredible.

“Cut the act, beautiful. We both know you've never been able to resist me.” Y/N laughs amused at the boy’s sassiness. She won't admit it but she missed his eyes on her. She missed the way he uses that cocky stupid voice that melts her when he wants something. How he gets closer with each sentence, or his lips on her mouth.

Before she can counter attack, Alex stands in front of the guitarist raising his hands. “I know he’s an idiot, but we really need your help, Y/N. If we want Sunset Curve to gain popularity we have to start here, and this is our last year. Gaining popularity among the elite of the school would help us a lot.”

“We are getting desparate.” Reggie adds, a sad smile on his face.

“And pretending I made out with Luke in third period and getting to be homecoming dance queen and king helps you... why?”

“That crown is literally a test of popularity and status. It would put Luke on the same level as the popular kids like Savannah and Diego. People would be more interested in Sunset Curve after that. For now, for them we are only three good for nothing that one day will not appear around here again. You heard yourself that those two didn't think Luke was good enough."

Her face flushes with anger as soon as she remembers the contemptuous tone of voice they used to refer to Luke. If they hadn't been in the middle of the hall, she probably would have said a lot more than she did. That single comment is enough to make her decide, so without thinking Y/N asks “What do you need me to do?”

“Just play perfect couple with Luke until homecoming dance. Then you are queen and king, Sunset Curve gets the fans we deserve, you get to laugh at Savannah’s face and you can separate next day if you want to.”

“I’m not sure If someone is going to believe it.” She blurts out loud as she glances at the guitarist.

“Oh please, you know each others mouth better than your own names.” Reggie says without thinking, Luke snorted with laughter and Y/N blushes like crazy.

“Yeah, and you used to spend a lot of time together too, two weeks shouldn’t be that hard.” Alex tries to recover the seriousness of the situation to close the deal.

“Okay then. If I can help Sunset Curve and get that smirk of superiority off Savannah's face then sounds good to me. Are you willing to date me, Patterson?”

Their eyes meet again and without a sign of hesitation her now officially boyfriend for the next two weeks, answers.

“Beautiful, you have no idea.”

There is something about relationships that never get to happen that make the heart weigh more, that nostalgia to be stronger, the person more difficult to forget. Luke can't help but remember during the last periods of the day just how good it felt to taste the girl's lips again. Feelings of desire, of familiarity, of belonging. All colliding and going deep into his bones.

He decided a long time ago he didn't do relationships, but if he did, it would have been with her. He was willing to break that rule for her, but she had the final decision and it wasn't him. He accidentally put himself in the perfect situation though. All those what if’s will finally have an answer.

For two weeks he can test what it would have been if Y/N Y/L had chosen him. And when he finally tries the experience he will be free. Free from all the what if’s, free from her, from her memory. And there's also the part of how much the band will benefit. The main objective of doing this, obviously.

The last hour is finally over and Luke sped off toward Reggie's truck. In front of it is Alex already waiting and he can see Reggie and Y/N also walking in the same direction. The four of them regroup and Y/N starts to discuss game plan.

“If we are going to do this, we are going to do it well. There will be a party at Finch's house this Saturday and the three of you are coming with me."

The three members of Sunset Curve make an annoyed face at the words of their friend. "That's exactly why no one supports you. You think you are too cool to hang out with the people but then you want everyone to happily buy your shirts and listen to your music."

“She has a point there.” Alex agrees, and puts his arm around her shoulder.

“Okay, let’s do this. If you all come with me, we can leave early and crash one of those places you usually play. Maybe even have some people of the party to come with us and hear you rock the shit out of that place.” All three smile with bright eyes In response.

“You got yourself a deal, pretty lady.” Reggie says in a flirting tone and winks at her. Luke gives him a light punch on the arm.

"I'll see you on Saturday in my house then, at nine. Goodbye boys." She winks at Luke and walks over to her car, making sure to do a perfect walk because she knows pretty well that the guitarist isn't going to stop watching her until she pulls out of the parking lot.

Luke gives her a perfect smile one last time before Y/N leaves school. These two weeks are going to be weird.

The four members of the band are in the truck, Bobby decided to get out of school recently but a party and a gig sounds like a rad Saturday. Luke gets out and walks to the door to wait for Y/N to come out. When she finally comes down he feels like all the air is coming out of his lungs.

She's wearing the black Sunset Curve t-shirt that he forgot one of the many times he climbed up to the second floor of the house to see her. A short black skirt and one of his red flannels that he probably left there several months ago as well. Black fishnets stockings which he can't help but imagine ripping out with his teeth, her lips in that tone of red that drives him crazy, and her classic black boots that he hadn't seen since she started dating the cheating idiot.

“Genius huh? Is there anything that says more ‘Luke Patterson’s property’ than this? I don’t think so." She smiles proudly and blushes when she notices Luke's gaze locked on her legs. Fishnets may have been included in the outfit due to a certain weakness that the musician has towards them.

The hair that the guitarist is used to seeing in a perfect bun lately, is now loose and tousled. As rebellious as the day he met her, moving in harmonious tune to the rhythm of Now or Never.

Luke reaches out to to entwine his hand in her hair and whispers slowly into her ear “You look... fucking hell, you are not playing fair, baby.” Lightly biting her lobe when he’s done speaking.

They both linger in a trance for a few seconds, considering whether they should just walk in and lock the door. But before they can decide, the boys that already know this story pretty well and are sick of waiting for them while they flirt, get out of the truck. Reggie carries Y/N like a sack of potatoes and between Bobby and Alex take Luke by the arms, putting them in the vehicle so they can finally get to the lame party and then, the gig.

When they finally arrive, the eyes of almost all the girls go to the members of the band, who are definitely dressed for the occasion. Y/N can't help but notice how most of the cheerleaders wink at her boyfriend. Yeah, it’s not real and will last two weeks, but for now she justs wants to forget that part and enjoy the feeling of him being hers.

So she makes a small, harmless gesture to mark territory and puts her hand in the guitarist's back pocket.

Luke turns to see her, an amused smirk on his face. “Jealousy looks so hot on you, I wouldn't mind if you marked my lips with that red lipstick too."

That statement resonates in Y/N’s head. All the times Diego refused to kiss her so as not to stain himself and even forbade her to use that lipstick that for her was part of her brand returning to her head. Followed quickly by every night Luke came down after finishing playing and instantly attacked her lips with his, caring for nothing more than the feel of their tongues fighting for control.

“Not jealousy, just a quick reminder to everyone. You are all mine tonight.” She puts a little more pressure on the hand in his pocket and stands on her tiptoes to kiss the corner of his lips.

“Dance with me?” She asks innocently while giving him a flirtatious smile.

“With you, always beautiful.” He smiles back, winking charmingly.

His hands find hers and she begins to dance and jump gracefully to the rhythm of the music as he spins her around, both singing the lyrics to each other with unmatched energy, happy to be together.

“Tonight I'm gonna dance, for all that we've been through.” She sings with a determined voice, taking the musician by the hair and bringing their faces closer.

“But I don't wanna dance, If I'm not dancing with you.” Luke returns the verse with the same passion, just inches separating their lips. His beautiful and trained voice tends to sound like a more country vibe when he gets carried away and especially in more pop melodies like this, and honestly drives her crazy.

The fact that the rocker at heart gave in to listen to other genres for her and even remembered the lyrics was enough to melt her heart. The last time she was able to let herself go and sing at the top of her lungs like this was with him, listening to a mix of their favorite songs in his car while going for their favorite icecream. Whatever they had was a lot more deeper than what they are willing to admit.

“Did we really just see Luke sing and dance to a pop-country song?” Reggie asks the band, Alex and Bobby behind him laughing at the guitarist who blushes and kisses his date's forehead. “I am not going to discuss this. I'll go get us something to drink." He winks at her and dissapears into the crowd.

“I’ll go too, be right back.” Bobby announces leaving Y/N with Alex and Reggie, who smirk at her.

“It seems that pretending is easier than you thought.” Alex can't stop smiling, Reggie playfully itches the girl's ribs who grins from ear to ear.

"Everything always fits when I'm with him. I ruined my chance. I'm totally aware, and I'm not expecting anything from him, because I honestly don't deserve it. But I plan to enjoy every second of these two weeks that came from heaven to the fullest.”

“You should explain hi-” Before Reggie can finish speaking, Diego appears behind Y/N and tries to forcefully pull her by the arm.

The guys manage to react quickly and release her arm while stepping in front of her. But right away his teammates get behind him.

“Save yourselves the pain, she is going with me.” Diego says confidently, his face showing arrogance.

“Guys, ple-” She tries to stop them from getting hurt, but both step a little forward, determined to protect her no matter the cost.

“You are not taking her, Diego. But you are more than welcome to try.” Alex's voice sounds cool and calm, but Y/N can see how much his hands are shaking and her heart hurts at the sight.

They are all so into their own business that nobody notices the guitarist's return until his lips collide with his girl, who is surprised for a few seconds but immediately recognizes him and gives him space for his tongue to taste her mouth.

They both lose themselves in the kiss for a few seconds longer than necessary and then slowly separate. Y/N grinning from ear to ear as she tries to wipe some of her lipstick off Luke's mouth. He just smirks, as happy as ever.

"Sorry guys, do you need something?" He plays the innocent card. After that kiss, most of the people at the party are watching the scene, so Diego, who looks furious, chooses to leave without saying anything. Right away they can hear a long restrained breath from Reggie and Alex.

“You are a cocky genius, I'm not sure we could have won that one.”

“I’m not sure? Did you seriously think we had a chance?” Alex asks, clearly anxious after what had just happened.

Y/N stands in front of them and throws herself into their arms, whispering how many thanks she can say in a row. They return the hug and begin to relax in each others arms. Bobby and Luke join in the hug, and Luke whispers his own thanks to his friends.

The band decides that it’s time to go and to their surprise, when they let people know that they are going to play at a small club in the center of the city, some decide to follow them. On the way, Y/N spends her time wiping her lipstick off Luke’s face with some wipes she had in her bag, struggling not to press her lips against his every time he made her an adorable grimace or a flirtatious smile.

“You know the drill, beautiful.” Luke turns to see her directly in the eyes, concern on his face just like every time before.

“Front row, not a second out of your sight, so if I need something better wait for you guys to finish performing to get it. Better safe than sorry." She recites, proud to remember every word.

“Thank you, baby.” He smiles a little more calmly, gives her a light kiss on the cheek and starts to help take out the instruments.

They are only doing a few songs from their repertoire, but the energy they transmit drives everyone in the little club crazy. The Sunset Curve members look at a Luke they haven't seen in a long time. The energy and passion in his voice dedicated entirely to the little woman in the front row who sings with all her strength every word and melody, imitating Luke's guitar solos or Alex's drums with her arms.

The 15 students who decided to attend are close to Y/N, trying to get her attention from time to time but nothing can take her eyes off her friends. Not even she knew how much she had missed seeing them play. The look of maximum happiness on their faces.

The last song is one that the little club seems quite familiar with, but she had never heard it before. So it must have been written in the last six months.

“Had my chances, could've been where he is standing.

That's what hurts the most, girl, I came so close

But now you'll never know. Baby, I loved you first.”

The lyrics leave her breathless. Luke, who had made contact with her practically all night, now seems to avoid her eyes like a plague. She definitely has to ask Alex about this song before getting any ideas.

The four bow and get off the stage, Luke launches immediately for Y/N, some of the girls try to get his attention and even try to grab him by the arm or waist but he remains firm until his hands meet his girl's hip.

“What do you think?” Luke's fingers shaking in the grip on her waist tell her he's nervous. The fact that her opinion of them matters so much to him that it makes him feel insecure makes her heart skip a beat.

“It was amazing as always, rockstar.” A huge smile appears on the guitarist's face, who gently takes her face with his hands and kisses her nose. After all, he has to remember that they are only pretending to date and for now he has no good reason to push his lips against hers. It doesn't matter how much he needs her.

The way home is uneventful, Y/N sleeping in Luke's arms while Alex puts the guitarist's red flannel over her.

“Will they ever stop pretending they're ridiculously in love with each other?” Bobby asks Reggie as he turns his head to see the couple.

“They are both stubborn and allergic to real feelings. Especially love. They are so terrified that they have to sabotage themselves somehow.” Alex answers for Reggie who just nods without taking his eyes off the road.

"Do you really have to talk like I'm not here?" Luke asks, resting his chin delicately on the head of the woman in his arms.

Tonight felt unreal. Felt practically like one of the many dreams he has had with the girl throughout these months. Seeing her in his clothes was enough to make the night special, but without a doubt dancing in her arms, savoring every inch of her mouth and seeing her energetically sing each of his songs to end the night with her in his arms is just perfect. Reggie parks at Y/N’s after dropping Alex and Bobby, and as Luke decides how to get her to bed without waking her she sinks deeper into his chest.

"Carry me to the door hotstuff, I like to be in your sexy arms." Luke lets out a cheeky laugh in surprise, another laugh coming from Reggie.

“She’s so asleep, I can’t. Adorable though.” Luke agrees and takes her bag before walking down with her in his arms and carrying her effortlessly to the door.

“Thank you for tonight. I didn’t think I could ever feel this happy and complete again.” She murmurs in his ear before giving him a sweet peck in the lips and enter the house.

What the two of them took from tonight is that indisputably, they are both still head over heels for each other. But it was like that the first time and it just wasn't enough.

Days go by with the couple being the school's favorite gossip. People talking in the hallways about the special way Luke looks at his girlfriend, comparisons about the dry way Y/N used to be with Diego compared to how she is with the guitarist, always touching him somehow and spending all the time with him as possible, visibly much happier. Some also talking about how good the band sounds and wondering why they hadn't heard it before. Everything going according to plan.

On Thursday afternoon, Luke arranged to pick her up for the two of them to find him something formal enough for the dance. When Y/N opened the door she met his beautiful greenish hazel eyes, and swears that for a second she forgot how to breathe.

She knows this scene. He smiles sweetly at her, takes her hand and opens the door of the car for her. Multiple interesting memories inside this car coming back to her mind. His firm hands on her legs, his tongue testing her mouth, his hot moans after biting his lower lip...

“Beautiful? Whatcha thinking?” Luke's voice brings her back to the present, his hand goes directly to her thigh as all that many midnight drives and without saying anything he plays the girl's favorite album.

That’s it. If she wants a chance with him, she needs to make this right. “I- We really need to talk.” Hearing the tone of her voice, Luke senses what is coming. He was here before. So he turns off the car that hadn't even started to move yet and turns to look at her.

"I know we've been putting it off, but we have to talk about how it all ended, I-"

Luke interrupts her before she can finish, his voice sounds broken, sad, angry. "I really don't want to talk about how you preferred an idiot for whom you don't feel the remotest thing just because he'll get a football scholarship and this perfect future.”

She spends a few seconds processing his words. Did he really say what she thinks he said? "It wasn't like that, Luke."

"I know it looks like I can't compete with him, but I would have done anything for you. And I thought you knew that.”

She doesn't know what to do or say. She was so unconscious, so selfish, so heartless, that she didn't even think about how he could have understood the situation. In how much he must have suffered these months watching her with Diego, believing he wasn’t good enough. Believing that she chose someone who wasn’t him, because he wasn’t good enough.

He stays quiet, examining the girl who seems about to cling to tears. The anger evaporates instantly and he leans into her seat to wrap his arms tightly around her. She starts sobbing, but seems determined to talk.

“R- Remember the night we met? It was the first Sunset Curve presentation. I had just entered the little club, but your voice dragged me to the front row like a magnet. And when I was finally in front of the stage, I knew it. It was you. The butterflies that everyone talks about for the first time in my stomach. I knew I could never feel again something even close to what I was feeling at that moment.

I got carried away in your voice, dancing to the rhythm of the melody and recording every sound in my head. And when I opened my eyes again, yours were staring at me. And I understood that you felt it too. It was me, and you knew it. It was so natural, powerful, magnetic, deep. I loved you since the first day, Luke. How is that not going to scare me?

When the feelings started to get so strong they burned, I knew I had to run. You always made it very clear that relationships were not your thing, I could not continue to wait for something that from the beginning you made it clear you could not give.

Then Diego arrived at the right time to give me an exit, and I took it. I knew he just wanted to have me around to raise his good boy status, and feeling nothing was safer than feeling too much. So I lied. I lied to you, to me, to everyone. And I’m sorry, but I was so scared. I was a coward who should have done things differently.”

When she finally finishes pulling out what she's been saving for months, she pulls away from Luke to see his face. His eyes look crystal clear, his cheeks red. But his beautiful white smile lights up his face.

"Next time you love me so much that you can't bear it, let me know, please? I can step on your foot or sneeze in your face. I was literally going to ask you to be my girlfriend that weekend. I even wrote you a song."

“You were? The one you sang the other night?”

“Okay, I wrote you a lot of songs. Maybe too many. But the one I'm talking about is different. Maybe I'll let you listen to it one day. If you stick around long enough this time.”

She smirks and kiss him lightly on the lips, enjoying the feeling of being able to. He knows he reacted way too chill. But he also understands her feelings. What is the point of reproaching her for something they can no longer change? A bad decision made by a love so immense that it left her blind. He is simply not willing to waste any more time. They are finally going to do things right. Neither of them is going to self-sabotage it this time, and since he doesn't trust it, he'll put Alex and Reggie in charge to make sure.

The night of the dance arrives. Y/N is wearing a beautiful black dress and her classic red lips. Luke tried his best to look fancy and he's wearing a pretty cool suit but in a sleeveless version. His still fake girlfriend couldn't stop smiling when she saw him. Just perfect.

Dancing in his arms, letting him go only once in a while to dance with the other three members of Sunset Curve made the night amazing. The rest of these two weeks they spent it talking, laughing... making out. Enjoying the most of the time they lost. Even completely forgetting why they were faking it in the first place, until they ask the candidates to take the stage.

"And your king are queen are... Y/N Y/L and Diego Hernandez!"

They all turn to see Luke in shock. Just hearing their names together is enough to make him frustrated, but there's not much he can do right now. And that's when he remembers what he asked the boys to play for the king and queen's first dance. Great, now dance they’ll dance to his song together. Just his damn luck. He sabotaged himself again without imagining it.

They are crowned and Diego offers her his hand, not without first throwing a face of superiority to the guitarist. She walks but continues straight until she is in front of her lover.

Luke looks at her strangely, she smiles at him.

“But I don't wanna dance, If I'm not dancing with you. Remember?” She sings happily in his ear, and offers her hand.

“Dance with me?” He looks at her adoringly and takes her hand.

“Always, beautiful.”

They walk to the center of the floor, Alex begins to sing the first verse. Y/N rests her head on Luke's chest, her hands around his neck, as he presses her against him by the hip, wrapping her in his arms. His head bent to sing the song in her ear.

“I swear to God, I can see... you're still the girl in the club.”

Tears of happiness begin to flow from Y/N, the words that she never had the opportunity to know, finally getting revealed. Luke's sweet, soft voice in her ear. The perfect melody and the beautiful voice of Reggie and Alex in the background.

“And I need you to know that we're fallin' so fast

We're fallin' like the stars, fallin' in love.”

The moment he sings in love, Y/N lifts her head to meet his eyes. He lifts his hands to her cheeks to wipe her tears, gently holding her face to make sure she sees him recite every word.

“And I'm not scared to say those words. With you, I'm safe.

We're fallin' like the stars, we're fallin' in love.”

The second Luke finishes singing, Y/N stands on tiptoe and pushes her lips against his. Tears of happiness continue to fall from her face, wrapped in a passionate, slow, deep kiss. He's all she wants. Her heart chose him since the very first day.

“I can’t believe one of Luke’s random ideas it's what made them find their way back to each other. Reg, we tried for 6 months and we were never even close. Two weeks ‘pretending’ and bam! they are just fine.”

Both watch the happy couple dance now that they are official.

"You know what they say, Fake it till you make it.” Reggie smirks while watching Luke happily kiss Y/N.

“Fair. At least everything was fixed before we shoved Luke into the pool to see if Y/N would rescue him with a mouth-to-mouth kiss."

“We still could try, you know... for science.”

“Cool. Monday works for me. Do you think that even though he didn't win, we still have a chance to win some more fans?”

Reggie raises his head before answering, a smile appears when he sees the bunch of girls and boys who are spying on them just a few meters away. Probably waiting for them to finish talking to get closer.

“I think Sunset Curve will be just fine too, Alex.”

Thank you for reading✨

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