#ok making that gif makes me wanna go back and gif some very self indulgent moments

[residenthughes]

square one

pairing: leon kennedy x gender neutral reader

word count: 1.6K

tags/warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, some angst, leon's dealing with some insecurities (acne) :(

summary: leon's always struggled with acne. a recent flareup brings up more than he bargained for.

notes: think i saw a post about the texture of leon's skin in the re4r, as well as a headcannon that he sometimes picks at his skin and idk, just felt compelled to write this. i struggled (still do) with hyperpigmentation from acne, so this was low-key self-indulgent (and me projecting, sorry leon 😭) so enjoy(?) the fruits of that! one more exam and i'll be active again (in between celebrating any chance that i get that exams are over) hope you enjoy! :)

He feels like a teenager again.

Full of angst and riddled with insecurity. There’s so much curiosity in his eyes, fingers gingerly grazing against the scarlet surface of his cheek with inflamed pimples. Leon thought he outgrew this. Despite the occasional picking at his skin when submerged in the anxieties that live rent free in his mind, his skin remained relatively calm rain or shine. It’s worst was when he was in high school, so awkward and unsure of everything. Redness dotted against his face, he felt like puberty brought out the worst in him, forced him to grow in a body now foreign to him, navigate the unknown territory that were his new feelings. It’s a time that isn’t all that nostalgic for him and when he stands in your shared bathroom, long into his adulthood - 27 years old - staring into his reflection, his life flashes before his eyes. He’s right back where he was. Nerdy and hesitant. 

He feels so small.

“Hey,” your call for his attention is soft, doused in all gentleness you can muster as you quietly observe your partner from the door frame. “You ok? Tea’s getting cold.”

Leon huffs in annoyance, not meaning to but when his eyes catch sight of how inflamed his skin is, it takes him gnawing inside his cheek to stop himself from spiralling. It’s so silly, insignificant even. Leon never really cared much for his appearance as an adult. Reminded fairly neutral in regards to himself, stance never swayed despite those that fell to his feet bewitched by his devastatingly good looks. His stance shifted when you two met. Suddenly, he was a teenager again, but in a good way. Do I smell good? Is my hair ok? Am I overdressed? All these little curiosities combated by the love you embrace him in. He doesn’t become confident - your love is not a fix-all remedy for years of trauma and insecurity. But he becomes more sure of himself, reassured and loved wholly. He picks up his own pieces, slowly but surely. You simply steer him in the right direction. A beautiful thing, a lovely thing.

In spite of this beautiful thing, Leon can get in his own way sometimes. Stares at his reflection too long when he’s been spiralling and simply meets your gaze with a vulnerability reserved only for you. “Skin’s been acting up.”

“Honey,” you approach him cautiously, like he’s made of porcelain and Leon leans into the gentleness without a care in the world. Your hands never make contact with him, knowing any touch might open the floodgates of emotional turmoil that slowly seep into his bloodstream, poisonous and harrowing in nature. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

He grimaces, eyes avoiding yours as he shrinks into himself. “Been a stressful week is all.”

Leon flashes an unconvincing smile, puffing out a beat of laughter that is all but amused. “Guess this is the result of it, huh?”

Your heart sinks. You remember when this came up early in your relationship. You were often seeing each other, whether it was to go out on the town dressed to the nines or lounge around and snack on whatever junk food (of which there was very little in Leon’s apartment) you two could find. He refused to see you, citing long work days and the lack of energy they left him with as his reasons. You respected his wishes, giving him his space and all the time he needed before finding his way back to you. However, you couldn’t ignore the voice at the back of your head, nudging you towards him with pleas of assurance. Reassurance that he was ok and wasn’t deserting you for reasons you could help with.

You bumped into him on his way back from the grocery store.

Against his better judgement, Leon needed to restock his shelves with leafy greens to rid himself quickly of the acne against his cheeks. He knew you were at work, so he took his chance and sped ran through the isles, mask pulled up to his eyes as he simply went about his business. Packing his grocery bags quickly and making big steps towards his car, only to run into you in the parking lot.

He expects you to drop your belongings. Dramatises the whole scene in his head, imagines your face twisting in disgust and murmuring a half-hearted excuse to leave the conversation early to block his number because his insecurities have gotten the best of him and he can’t think any worse of himself than he is now. 

It’s all fiction, the tragic story he paints in his head. Sees you give a small smile, cautious and coy.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he muses, the awkwardness of his predicament leaving him with nothing but the desire for the ground to swallow him whole. “Would have dressed up a bit.”

You laugh a bit, easing the pain but Leon still wants to leave regardless, foot pointed away from you with his body slightly turning towards the direction of his car.

You take note of his body language and make the conversation flow as casually as possible. “Yeah, I got off work early and was actually gonna pick up some things to come see you.”

“See me?” 

“Yeah, think it’s to be expected to want to see your partner.” you joke lightheartedly, eying the tension that leaves Leon’s shoulders as they relax back from his ears. 

“That’s sweet of you,” Leon starts. “But, I’ve gotta head back to the office…printer’s jammed.”

“Again?”

It ‘jammed’ last week. Along with some other atrocities that left Leon MIA all last week and this week too. It’s not too long to question, but the distance between you is growing unlike times before. It unsettles you.

“Can’t work that thing to save my life. So, it’s my obligation to fix it.”

“Leon,” you’re seeing through his act, calling for the denouement to the charade Leon orchestrates. He feels sickly doing this - this isn’t what you deserve, he knows that. But, during one of scarce times in his life that he’s self-conscious, is it so horrible to want to be left alone? “You’ve been a bit MIA recently. You sure you’re holding up alright?”

He questions for a moment telling you. Disclosing his recent flare up because he knows it isn’t a bad deal, especially with you who nurtures a safe space for him to call home. And he does, he goes to tell you, but in a desperate attempt for closeness, you step forwards and he’s stepping back and suddenly there’s a deafening silence between the two of you.

“I didn’t mean-”

“It’s ok,” you reassure, time and time again. His heart hurts from the constant push and pull that plagues your relationship. It wasn’t something you had to deal with. “Just talk to me. Please?”

It’s different seeing you like this. Over text, it’s easier (but not impossible) to tap away at the screen and desert his phone, submerging himself in work to fend off any thoughts that attempt to crawl into his brain. But you’re here, right in front of him. Eyes soft and so unbearably honest with your state of being. It tears him up inside. Makes him acknowledge every attempt to distance himself from you and never do it again if the same circumstances arose.

Leon makes the situation right. Approaches you despite the screams at the back of his head and heads back to his apartment with you sitting in the passenger seat, describing the acne flare ups that in spite of the demons he faces on his missions, makes him react like no other. You comfort him as best as possible, listening to every word he says and not bothering with unsolicited advice or shallow comments that won’t help the situation. You simply craft an evening filled with distractions, all his favourite in-home activities whilst showering him with all the affection he’s missed. And when it comes time to wash up and settle into bed, you make light of the situation, giving him one of the Sanrio headbands you had left in his apartment as you two clean up for the night, the space and comfort you give him enough for him to crawl into your arms under the covers and never let go. It’s an act of service, a day, that he’ll never forget. One that allows him to bare himself to you, years later, and let you take the reins because this, on top of the travesties he’s encountered far too often lately, have made him feel like a shell of himself. 

“It’s hard to keep up with everything when you’re so busy, isn’t it?” He nods. “You’ve been working hard, always have. Saving the world isn’t an easy feat, you know?”

He laughs, this time around humoured. “I wouldn’t exactly say that.”

“Well, whatever you do,” he laughs again and you can see him slowly coming back to you. You flash him a smile, a smile that holds timeless tales of your love story and his heart begins to warm. “It’s perfectly normal to get some R&R afterwards. It’s well deserved, especially in your case.”

He simpers, now having worked up the nerve to look into your eyes and in them, sees that dazzle. The same dazzle from your first glance, from your first confession. Even at his lowest, the dazzle remains. Your love, unwavering. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you, all of which he does when he feels like himself again. Showers you in abundance and more because that’s what you deserve and more.

“How about I run us a hot bath? You can tell me all about the printer jamming whilst I wash your hair, yeah?” 

He feels like a teenager again. This time, abundant in all the love he has for you.

[brinabees]

Up in Smoke (Wild and Eager Pt. 3)

Part 1 | Part 2

3.7k words, dbf!Joel, Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel gets you, his best friend's "innocent" daughter, stoned and has his way with you

Content: 18+ MDNI! Marijuana use, oral (f recieving), titfuck, facial, overuse of pet names

Notes: This one is particularly self-indulgent. Shot out to @toxicanonymity for writing the pervy stoner Joel of my dreams.

You were in Joel’s apartment. Joel’s apartment! You’d never been to his place before, never had a reason to until you’d started... Whatever it is the two of you had started. 

You’d been shocked when Joel had slipped the paper with his address written on it into your hand the day before, when he’d been at your place to talk with your father. It was a refreshing change, having him come to you for once. It seemed, perhaps, as if Joel was no longer avoiding you, as if he’d finally accepted he couldn’t stay away. 

“Come by tomorrow and we’ll have some fun,” he whispered into your ear as he passed you the note when your dad had gone into his room to look for something. 

Getting out of your place proved more difficult than you’d hoped. Your dad thoroughly interrogated you about where you were going, who you were meeting, when you’d be home... For Christ’s sake, you were a grown woman and your father still treated you like you were sixteen. You’d made up a story about going to see a friend from your school days, telling him you’d be home before curfew.

When he’d finally let you go, you’d rushed your way through the QZ, hoping you wouldn’t run into any trouble passing through the FEDRA control point you’d have to pass through on your way to Joel’s. You got by without much fuss, and then you finally found yourself knocking on the door of his apartment. Joel had greeted you without so much as a hello, clearly not in the best mood. Not for long, if you had anything to say about it. You knew how to make him happy, very happy. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

“Nothin’ for you to worry about, just a deal that didn’t go quite to plan.”

“What happened?” you continued questioning him, not about to let it go just because he said so.

“Just a buyer who was low on ration cards. Almost had to teach the guy a lesson about swindling me.” You had a feeling Joel’s methods for teaching a bad customer a lesson were a lot more violent than when he’d taught you a lesson with his magnificent cock. “In the end the guy coughed up a pack of joints to cover the rest, but it still means I’m low on cards,” he huffed. 

“Then why’d you accept joints, if you really needed the cards? Are they really worth it?”

“Sure, the high’ll make the time pass as pleasantly as anything.”

“Oh, ok. I’ve never tried it before so I just didn’t know.”

“You ain’t never smoked pot before?” Joel asked, incredulous. “Damn, your Daddy really has you sheltered, doesn’t he?”

You don’t respond, embarrassed by your own inexperience. Joel always had the upper hand on you when it came to experience, both in a sexual sense and in more general terms. You resented how much your dad held you back from trying anything new, from taking any risks. Perhaps that’s why you enjoyed taking risks with Joel so much?

“That’s ok hun’, lucky for you, you know me. Gon’ open your mind up for ya,” he drawled, grinning at you from where he sat on his couch. At least his mood seemed to be lightening already. You went to sit down next to Joel, your body a little stiff with nerves at the new situation. “None of that, sweet girl, don’t get shy on me now,” he said, grabbing your legs and swinging them over his lap and wrapping his arm around your back so you were held close to his chest. His comfort with this kind of casual physicality surprised you, seeing as he’d always been so reluctant to touch you before. His other hand landed on your thigh, bared below the hem of your shorts, and he began stroking up and down your leg. You felt goosebumps break out over your skin at the pleasure his touch induced. “You’ll wanna be nice and relaxed when you try this, baby girl.” 

You settled further against his chest and smiled up at him. Pleased with your newly calm demeanor, Joel reached forward and picked up the pack of joints off the makeshift coffee table. He took one out, returning the rest to the table and picking up a silver lighter. He put the joint between his lips, and you couldn’t stop staring at the way they looked wrapped around it. He flicked the lighter open with his free hand and proceeded to light the joint, and take a long, drawn out hit. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, and you wrinkled your nose at the unfamiliar scent. 

“Your turn, pretty girl,” he said, offering you the joint. 

“I just inhale, right?”

“Yeah. Start slow or else you’ll cough up a lung, and hold in the smoke as long as ya can.”

You started to wonder if this was such a good idea, letting a man with Joel’s reputation get you high, alone in his apartment where he could do whatever he wanted to you. But, to be honest, the thrill of it made your legs clench together in pleasure. 

You grasped the joint between your forefinger and thumb, bringing it to your lips and taking a drag. As soon as the smoke hit your airway, you began coughing violently. Joel rubbed your back as you coughed, chuckling slightly. 

“Don’t... *cough* laugh.. *cough* at me... *cough* asshole!” You got out as best you could while your lungs were on fire. 

When you’d calmed down a bit, Joel said, “Go on, try again, not so much this time and you’ll be fine.” You took another drag, inhaling as slowly as you could. The fire in your lungs was still there, but more manageable as you held in the smoke as long as you could take it. You finally blew out the smoke right into Joel’s face. “There you go, good girl.”

You could feel your head getting a little fuzzy. You weren’t quite sure if you liked it or not, but Joel smiled encouragingly at you, so you took another hit. You felt your body getting heavier and starting to tingle lightly all over. “What’s it supposed to feel like, Joel?”

“It’s gon’ make you feel good baby, trust me. It’ll make you extra sensitive, and it’ll make you happy too. Might start finding everything a lil’ funny.” You could already feel what he meant about the sensitivity; everywhere your body touched his felt like little sparks were zinging through your skin. You brought the joint to your lips and inhaled once more, already able to take a longer drag without coughing. “Hey now, don’t go gettin’ greedy on me,” Joel said as he plucked the joint out of your hand and took a hit himself. You giggled a little at that as he blew the smoke right into your face. Suddenly you couldn’t stop giggling, not at anything in particular. It just felt good to laugh. 

Joel looked down at you where you rested in his lap, a warm look in his eyes. He leaned down and cut off your laughter with a kiss. That shut you up real quick. His warm, soft mouth covered yours, lips sliding against your own. Though it started off gentle, the kiss quickly heated as he opened his mouth and probed the seam of your lips with his tongue. You granted him access and kissed him back, luxuriating in the feel of it. He tasted good, like his usual flavor, but tinged with smoke. You kept kissing for what could have been an hour or mere minutes, your sense for the passage of time completely thrown off by the drug coursing through your system. 

When he finally pulled back, you looked up at him and asked, “What was that for?”

“Nothin’, you’re just cute when you’re stoned.” You grinned like an idiot. He took another puff off the joint before offering it to you once more. You felt so good already, you didn’t see the harm in taking another hit. As soon as the smoke left your lungs, you felt different. Maybe it was his passionate kiss, maybe it was the weed... Whatever it was, you suddenly felt your cunt pulsating between your legs, your nipples growing hard and sensitive to the fabric covering them. 

“Joel, I feel... funny.”

“Funny how, darlin’?” You flushed with embarrassment as you felt yourself getting wet, your pussy clenching around nothing. You squirmed in his lap, squeezing your thighs together seeking some relief. Joel snubbed the joint out in an ashtray and put it down. 

“I just...” You decided you’d rather show him than tell him, so you grabbed his now free hand and guided it beneath the waistband of your shorts, down to where you were dripping with need. He let out a small, hushed, “oh” in understanding.

His fingers barely dragged through your wet seam, but it was already enough to make you jolt in his arms. He drew his fingers back out of your shorts and brought them to his lips, sucking them voraciously. “So tasty, baby girl.” You gazed at him with wide eyes as he tasted you, the need throbbing between your legs only growing more urgent. 

“Joel, please help me,” you begged, voice quaking with desire. 

“Aw, is my poor baby feeling needy? Weed makes you horny, huh?” You nodded your head, blushing. “If only your daddy knew what a desperate slut you are for me. Does my sweet girl wanna be my little stoner slut?” The hand not cradling you to his chest fell to your thigh, stroking sensual circles as it got closer and closer to the apex of your thighs. It felt like his fingers were leaving a path of fire in their wake, your skin so sensitive to every move he made. 

“Yes, Joel I’ll be anything you want me to be, just touch me.”

“I am touching you, baby,” Joel squeezed you tighter towards his chest, smiling with false innocence behind his eyes. 

“Touch me here,” you placed a hand between your legs to indicate your throbbing mound, fingers brushing against his where they still rested on your upper thigh. 

“My desperate girl needs her pussy touched, huh? I think that can be arranged.” As he spoke, he grasped you in his arms and stood, slipping a hand under your legs to support you. He turned around and sat you where he had been on the couch, before kneeling down in front of you. “Gon’ touch that sweet cunt for you, don’t worry.” Just the anticipation of it made you moan.

Joel's hands came to the front of your shorts, unbuttoning and unzipping them so he could slide them down your legs. Rather than removing your underwear and getting to work, he reached for your shirt, unbuttoning it from top to bottom, revealing your bare breasts and stomach. Your head was spinning too much to protest his detour from your poor, needy cunt. Joel groaned as he took you in, head lolling back a bit, shirt falling open around you, panties growing visibly damp. “Oh sweet baby, you need it so bad, don’t ya?”

“Yes, god damn it Joel! I need you, please please please.” He got up on his knees and leaned forward, dropping his greedy mouth to one of your nipples, rolling it against his tongue as he sucked it between his lips. One of his hands rose to your other nipple, pinching it hard. You let out a delighted squeak at that. His mouth began pressing hot kisses to the underside of your breast, your sternum, moving down to your stomach. As he reached the waistband of your panties, he paused to smile up at you wickedly, eyes flaring with desire. 

He hooked one finger into the crotch of your underwear, pulling it aside to reveal your damp slit. “Damn baby, she really does need me, doesn’t she? So pretty and wet and throbbing for me. Just from a little weed, you insatiable slut.” His words came out with a sense of reverence, as if he couldn’t believe his luck. 

Finally, finally, he dropped his mouth between your parted thighs and placed a gentle kiss to your hooded clit. Even the tender touch made you jump, your senses were so heightened from the drug. His tongue flicked out of his mouth, lapping at your clit before swiping down between your inner folds and teasing at your pulsing hole. Everywhere his mouth trailed, you felt sparks igniting in your delicate flesh. He paused briefly to hook his fingers under your panties and drag them down your legs. 

As quickly as he’d stopped, he was back again, pushing his tongue inside of you, swirling it around your opening. You let out a high, keening noise, overwhelmed by the sensation. It felt so much more than when he’d touched you before. And that was really saying something, considering how hard he’d made you come in the past. Your hands came to grasp at his hair, gently pushing his head further into you as you ground your hips against his tongue. With every roll of your hips, you felt his nose nudging your clit, sending bursts of pleasure through your whole body. 

“Fuck, Joel, feels so good.” Your head rolled back against the couch as Joel continued his ministrations and you kept grabbing roughly at his hair, trying to get him closer. His mouth dragged its way back up to your clit, latching around it and sucking hard. You shrieked in pleasure, unable to contain yourself. When you closed your eyes, you could see stars bursting in the darkness behind your eyelids. You’d never felt so much in your life. As he continued suckling at your oversensitized clit, he dipped two fingers into your wet hole, pumping them in and out, curling them towards the most delicious spot inside of you as he went. You looked down at him, and the sight of his eyes gazing up at you, boring into yours, pushed you over the edge into oblivion. 

You screamed, really screamed, as you came, hands still clenched in Joel’s messy curls. You’d never felt anything quite like it; the intensity of your orgasm shocked you. He kept licking you through it, fingers still caressing your tight passage. As you started to come back down to earth, you pulled Joel’s head back and away from your oversensitized cunt. Fuck. The sight of Joel with your wetness covering his whole lower face was too much for you. He looked so depraved, so self-satisfied, it made your pussy clench all over again. 

“Fuck. Joel, that was...” Words failed you.

“Good?”

“Great. Like, life altering levels of great.” He grinned at that, rising up and leaning into you, dropping his lips to yours and kissing you hard and slow. The taste of your own juices on his lips made you fucking feral with desire for him all over again. As he pulled back, you glanced down at the impressive bulge in his jeans. You wanted to repay him for the amazing experience he’d just given you. But how?

Joel flopped down next to you on the couch, not seeming all too concerned with his own situation. Maybe it was the lingering effects from the joint you’d smoked, or maybe it was the afterglow of your incredible orgasm, but you wanted so badly to please him, to let him have his way with you. When he made no move to do so, you brought your hand to cup his throbbing bulge, squeezing gently. He glanced sideways at you, saying “You don’t need to worry about me, sweet thing, you just experienced a lot, must be tired.”

“But Joel,” you pouted, “I want to make you feel good too.” He smirked back at you. “What have you been wanting to do to me, Joel? I’ll let you do it, whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, eh? That’s a mighty dangerous offer you’re making there, naughty girl. What if your poor dad knew his sweet little daughter would let his best friend do anything to you? Might outright break him.” 

“Well he doesn’t need to know, now does he. So there’s nothing stopping you from taking full advantage of me in my inebriated state,” you argued, flushing at the thought of what he might do to you. 

“Fuck, baby girl, what don’t I wanna do to you? Wanna fuck you six ways to sunday. Wanna bend you over and spank that sweet ass ‘til it’s raw. Wanna bury myself between those tits and come all over your pretty face.” He grinned wickedly as he saw your eyes widen at that last one. You wanted that too. Wanted all of it, too. So, you wordlessly laid down on your back, drawing the two halves of your shirt apart to reveal your breasts to him, squeezing them together enticingly. “Fuck, you really will let me do anything, won’t ya?” You nodded seriously, making sure he got the message. 

He was quick to climb over you on the couch, straddling your stomach and undoing his jeans. He was quick to pull them down far enough to free his cock from his briefs so he could line the tip up with your cleavage. You continued to press your tits together for him as he began to thrust forward, dick disappearing into your soft mounds. He let out a strangled groan as he moved, picking up the pace immediately, fucking your tits just like he said he would. You looked down, watching as his flared head, beaded with precum, appeared and disappeared from the top of your cleavage. Fuck, it looked so good, you couldn’t help yourself from darting your tongue out to lick at his tip, causing him to moan deeply. He slowed his pace a little, letting you get your mouth around his tip each time he thrust forward. 

“God damn it baby, so fucking hot, so eager for this cock. Gonna paint that pretty face of yours with my cum, make you look like a real whore.” You moaned around his tip at his words. Suddenly, he grasped your hair with one hand and tilted your head back, no longer allowing you to get your mouth on him. The speed of his thrusts picked back up, causing your breasts to bounce and jiggle as he fucked them. 

“Come on Joel. Come all over my face, paint me in your cum.” It was your words that sent him over the edge, coming with a roar as he shot ropes of cum up and onto your face. Some of his spend fell on your lips, and you couldn’t help but lick it up, enjoying his salty taste. Even in his post-orgasmic haze, the move wasn’t lost on Joel.

“Fuck, wild thing, you’re just so hungry for that cum, aren’t ya? Bet you couldn’t wait for me to come all over you. Bet you’d walk home covered in me if I asked, like a good little slut.”

You hated to admit it, but fuck, he was right. You really would do anything he wanted you too.

“Too bad we can’t have your daddy catchin’ wind of what a whore his little girl is,” he said as he stood and walked into the bathroom, fetching a washcloth to clean you up with. You smiled as he returned and gently wiped the cum off your face.

“So,” he began, flopping back down on the couch next to you and pulling your legs over his lap, “what’d you think? Of the weed, I mean.”

“What did I think, Joel? I think it’s pretty obvious I fucking loved it. It made me want you so bad, made me so fucking sensitive.” He grinned back at you, matching the dopey smile you couldn’t seem to wipe off your face. 

“Fuck, if I’d known it would make you so insatiable, I’d have gotten you stoned ages ago.” You both laughed at that. This was nice. Relaxing with him after your passionate antics. 

“Thank you Joel, really. I feel like I’ve missed out on so much because of my dad’s stupid rules. It’s nice exploring these things with you.”

“You’re welcome baby,” he answered, reaching out a hand to stroke your hair. 

You didn’t know how long you two lingered like that, cuddled together on his couch. It could have been minutes, could have been an hour. All you knew was you never wanted it to end.

“Shit,” Joel said suddenly, breaking you from your revery. “What time is it?” You shrugged your shoulders at him, too blissed out to worry about anything as silly as the time. “Fuck, baby, it’s past 6, we missed curfew. How the hell am I gonna get you back home now?”

That roused you from your pleasurable haze. “Shit, Joel, my dad’s gonna kill me if I don’t come home.”

“I know, baby girl, but we can’t go sneaking around after curfew and risk getting you caught. FEDRA’ll string you up for that.”

You breathed deeply, trying to come up with a plan of action. “Ok. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna stay the night here, and in the morning I’ll tell my dad I was at a friend’s place and lost track of time. He never has to know.” Joel looked wary at your plan, but nodded his head anyways.

“Ok baby, but you better make damn sure your daddy never finds out the truth.” You sat up and looked straight into his eyes.

“Promise, he’ll never know” You leaned forward to press a quick, reassuring kiss to his lips, before getting up and strolling over to his bed. “And you’ll have me all to yourself for the whole night. Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing after all,” you said with a wicked smile gracing your face. 

Joel’s eyes darkened at that. Yeah, this would definitely be worth the chewing out you’d get from your dad about staying out past curfew. You’d make sure of that.

Taglist (in its infancy, if you wanna be added let me know!):

@bluetattoos

[neoninky]

Ok so I had a thought while working earlier that just led to ludicrousness lolol

And no, no one has sent me a request for Fellow Honest for the bingo game BUT

I have some thoughts on this fox man whose face I have seen all over this site (shout out to main fox waifu/destroyer @wysteriadelights and @nuitthegoddess cuz I harass you with just about every twst related thought I have 😂 but also cuz the oc x fellow art you did recently was gorgeous well done ANYWAY-) so I’m doing an indulgent self ask and answer lolol

here we go:

Alright. So.

His look? He’s got a fantastic character design. Yes I wanna steal his coat lol. I love that there is more beastman characters being canonically introduced. I’m all for world building 👍✨

He is very, very silly. Very entertaining. Shady as HELL, but entertaining lol. I’m looking forward to the event coming to the English server and experiencing the absolute tomfoolery first hand lol. Also I want them Floyd, Lilia, and Ortho cards oh my laaaawd

I - unfortunately or not, take it as you will - did not get hit with the charisma tea that swept through the internet upon his arrival. He is good looking, I do appreciate the overall character aesthetic, but he ain’t my cup o’ tea, y’all sorry…now Divus ��� GURL-ok moving on lol

Alright fuckin FREE SPACE:

If I, Inky, were to make an actual self-insert Yuusona of sorts - I would not make her a student, even like a fourth year, cuz I’m too old lol I am beyond school age years…which is why she would absolutely be the lowkey, resting bitch faced school librarian or some professor of some sort, granted I/she would be the most lax teacher ever until it’s fuckin go time 😂 then shit gets real

Which brings me to my next point/ridiculous shenanigan scenario:

Imagine if you will - I, teacher!inky, just up at the school, doing my thing, and I find out that a handful of my dumbass main character students got shanghai’d by some rando human-trafficking fox man and his kitty cat associate bro-cousin?

To be turned into actual, cursed puppet beings??

And SOLD TO PEOPLE ON SOME SHADY BLACK MARKET ISH??? Listen there’s Overblotting and then there is actual crime-

Lawd, I would go Mama Bear on Fellow’s cane twirlin’ ass so quick, he would magical girl himself into a fur shawl for me to wear like fucking hunting trophy lol and then I’d just adopt Gidel

And then somehow drag them dumb kids back to the school my god 😂

Also note to self, now I have to create LibrarianMom!Inkysona, constantly just being over all the nonsense happening at Night Raven College. I feel that on a spiritual level lolol.

[mrpenguinpants]

Look, but don't touch. [ Harbinger Edition ]

— You're the only one who's allowed to touch him. Likewise, he's the only one that's allowed to touch you.

— Childe, Pantalone, Scaramouche, and Dottore

[Masterlist]

Love Language Series | Touch [ Here ] | Actions | Time | Words | Gifts

This is written before the Sumeru quest. Harbingers are their own warning.

This was a fever dream, incredibly self-indulgent, don't talk to me about this ok. Honestly don't even wanna tag people in this (´。＿。｀)

Tartaglia

Childe is friendly but he always keeps himself at arm's distance from anyone who isn't his family. The kind of guy that acts like he loves everyone but he truly doesn't like anyone. Always polite but never kind. He won't be outwardly hostile if one of the cicin mages decides she wants to try her luck and cuddle up to him, he sort of admires her bravery, but the hardened stare and indifferent response are awkward enough for anyone to bail halfway.

So what a surprise to everyone when it's Childe himself that pulls you into him. It's not a friendly hug either, he quite literally drags you into his embrace as soon as he sees you, locks his arms around your waist, and spins you around. Before he catches himself and gently settles you down and pretends as if he didn't boldly announce to everyone that you're special.

He is a harbinger at the end of the day so any intimate relationships he has need to be hidden lest he puts you in danger. That said, he doesn't do a very good job. He gets agitated and fidgety if he can't hold you, longing gazes in your direction even if someone else is speaking to him about something important. Whether it's shooing specks of dust off your shoulder, a tap on the arm, or the brief brush of your fingers against his whenever he hands something to you. He always finds some way to touch you.

It's always the worst and best time to speak with Childe if you happen to be there. On the upside, Childe is more likely to give his approval to whatever his subordinates ask just so they go away and leave you both alone. On the downside, because physical touch somehow makes Childe drowsy and almost drunk, he's useless.

It wasn't always like this. During your first months as something more than friends, not quite lovers, he kept you at an arm's distance just like everyone else. Only the occasional arm over your shoulder or a hand on the small of your back, just enough to show you that you meant something to him. But over time, those touches began to linger until the dynamic shifted and he began to rely on your touches to keep him sated. On particularly stressful days, he'll pull you aside into his office with a rushed excuse to just hold you in his lap. He's recharging, don't make tease him.

But he's not a selfish lover. If you need comfort or just want to be held, he'll gladly throw his plans out the window just to spend time with you. What's wrong? Did someone upset you? Want me to take care of them? He'll offer anything to make you feel better while you're cuddled up to him and it makes his heart flutter when you say you just want to stay beside him. He has a bad habit of resting his entire weight on top of you if you're both ever lying down. All that muscle is heavy but sometimes it's comfortable until his elbow accidentally digs into your side.

Childe can be polite if someone else wants to touch him but he's baring his teeth at anyone that has the audacity to place their hands on you. If someone bumps into you? He's fine, accidents happen. Someone moves you to the side? Whatever he won't throw a fit over that. He believes in the below-the-shoulder, above-the-waist, hands not included, rule. If anyone touches you, it's the only time when Childe will throw his reputation out the window.

Scaramouche likes to compare him to a dog and he'll gladly growl and bark if that's what it takes for people to get the hint and leave you alone. He'll slide his arms around your waist, tilt your chin up, and without any concern about the scene that this will cause, kisses you deeply. All the while sending the nastiest glare to the person that touched you. Look, don't touch. You're his.

Childe likes to believe that he has self-restraint. He's a soldier first and foremost so he has discipline beaten into his bones. But right now he's close to snapping the pen in his hands and hurling it into that bastard's forehead. He can feel Ekaterina's concerned gaze on him, shifting on her feet nervously, as she struggles to push through her explanation of his assignment quickly. Unfortunately, it's all white noise to Childe as all of his attention is on the cicin mage whose being a bit too friendly for his liking.

"Lord Tartaglia?"

Of course, you don't blink twice at it. He's seen how that loud electro pirate dotes on you and is overly physically affectionate herself. Maybe he should also fight her as well after he's done dealing with this cicin mage.

"Childe?" Ekaterina tries one last time, using a more familiar name to see if that would catch her superior's attention but alas, he was too busy glaring daggers into her college. Ekaterina raises a hand to lightly tap on her superior's shoulder to get his attention but just as her fingertips brush against the fabric of his uniform, Childe's death glare is directed at her. She flinches away from the otherwise easy-going Childe, her mask doing little to hide her startled expression.

"Sorry, sorry, not meant for you," Childe blinks away the hate from his ocean eyes, coming to his senses as he runs a hand through his hair, "What were you saying?"

"There is no need to apologize, Lord Tartaglia, I overstepped," Ekaterina, bless her heart, waves off the sudden aggression but takes a step back. Before she can continue, she overhears you saying goodbye to the mage and your footsteps coming closer. A small surprised noise escapes your chest as Childe pulls you into his arms immediately. If she didn't know Childe, she could almost say his expression was a bit cute with how pouty he was being. Although the look in his eyes says otherwise now that she was just on the receiving end. This seems to be a common occurrence because you just giggle and hug him back just as tightly.

"Please don't harm her. She was just being nice," you mumble into his chest.

"I'll think about it," he says, his eyes never leaving the mage.

Pantalone

On the one hand, the banker always carries this prestige that makes most people stay away in awe. No one wants to get on the wrong side of the man who basically funds the country of Snezhnaya. On the other hand, Pantalone has an ethereal beauty that compels people to come closer and touch. To see if the porcelain skin is real, feel if he's muscular or lean under the heavy fabric, or sneak a peek at what colour the banker's eyes are. It makes you kind of giddy knowing that this man belongs to you. That you know the answer to all these speculations.

You aren't sure when it started happening but at some point, he always ends up sort of mindlessly touching him. Placing a hand on his arm or knee, running your fingers through his hair, or gently rubbing away the stress from his shoulders. There wasn't an ulterior motive, Pantalone was just too handsome that you can't help but touch him just to make sure he's real. He thought you were overexaggerating a bit but he seemed deeply pleased at your confession since it was coming from you personally. That egotistical bastard.

But he always reciprocated your touch. Offering an arm for you to hold onto, brushing the hair out of your face, or rubbing small circles into your hand. Small gestures of affection would occasionally lead to more. The fact that Pantalone of all people let you be this close was something you secretly prided in yourself. You couldn't help but rub his newfound privilege in front of anyone that got too close that this elegant man was yours to hold. Look all you want but you're the only one that gets to touch.

You weren't aware of Pantalone's level of aversion to touch until he almost caused a scene at a gathering. It was meant more for looks and reputation, the occasional business talk, but overall a lax evening. One of the ladies thought it would be a good gesture to place her hand against Pantalone's arm. A bit flirty but innocent enough that the sheer disdain that swirled in Pantalone's eyes made her flinch away surprised. He struck her hand away, the sound carrying through the now-silent ballroom as everyone turned to the sound. You were surprised as well that Pantalone of all people, the image of control and ever-smiling, lips turned down into a repulsed scowl. Your feet quickly moved over to him, quietly excusing the woman for her careless act, and ushering her away before anything escalated. No one spoke of that night.

Ever since then you've always kept your hands firmly glued to your sides lest you feel his anger. If you happened to brush against his finger you would splutter out apologies and scamper away. If you felt his hand hover near you, you always assumed you were in the way and quickly moved aside for him. Overall, you acted as if it was you that was uncomfortable with touch. With each passing day that you fled from his hand, the crease in Pantalone's frown grew deeper.

It comes to a head one night when you get to see how Pantalone's aversion to touch applies to you as well. Occasionally some wealthy noble will host a gala and as one of the Tsaritsa Harbingers, Pantalone will be required to be present for at least one of them. Given his status, most of the attendees flock over to him which leaves poor you to meander about and find something to do with the time. Despite being his lover, you're not privy to what goes on with his work and frankly, the business talk and parties bore you. At least these places have food.

He sees you conversing with a man he knows is from Liyue, hoping to find more investors and trade partners here in Snezhnaya. He's already spoken to the man and rejected his offer so that's most likely why he's speaking to you, the banker's partner to garner sympathy. Although from the looks of things, you don't seem that impressed either. You notice his stare, perhaps his expression betrays him because your eyes grow concerned before giving a polite bow and turning to walk away and to him. If that was all then perhaps tonight wouldn't have ended so badly.

The man grabs your arm painfully enough for you to whimper and that's all Pantalone needs. He doesn't even try to hide his expression behind a smile, his lips set into a straight line. He grabs the man's arm tightly, the leather of his gloves crinkling from the force, and he nearly breaks the man's arm. How dare this inferior social climber put his filthy hands on you. You have to plead with him to let the man go, desperately trying to pry his grip away as the businessman begs the Harbinger on his knees that he didn't know.

Pantalone-

Pantalone is pissed.

You've never seen him this angry before. The lady all those nights ago doesn't even compare close to the anger radiating off him. His fingers flex still as he leads you away into an isolated hallway. You're not even sure if he knows where he's going, completely blindsided by rage. So you quickly step closer and throw your arms around him, stopping him in his tracks as you bury your face into the soft fabric of his suit.

"It's okay. I'm okay," you whisper softly into his back. You're not afraid, he won't get angry, not with you. Never with you. But it still pains you to see him this way. You feel more than you hear his deep sigh before slowly turning around and taking you into his arms. "Thank you. I didn't mean to start anything, you just looked displeased and I got worried. Oh, I'm sorry-"

You quickly move to shuffle out of Pantalone's hold but you can barely get two steps back before his touch grows firm and you're trapped. Despite how strong his hold is, he gently tilts your chin up so you can look into his pretty eyes. He really does have a nice eye colour you think in the back of your mind.

"You've been avoiding me. Care to enlighten me as to why that's the case? Did someone feed your mind with little lies?" Pantalone sounds coy but you can hear the undertone of worry. As if he's done something wrong which you quickly shake your head to.

"W-Well, that incident with the lady from a few weeks ago, the one in the red and black dress, you looked really angry when she touched you so..." you trailed off as your eyes look at anywhere that isn't the man in front of you, nervously twisting the cuff of your sleeve. When you actually hear it back it does sound a bit ridiculous to believe that but you just didn't want to make him uncomfortable. Or make him act a certain way just because you liked physical touch or to uphold appearances.

"And you thought you were comparable to people like that? That I would allow special treatment just because you were mine? That I would reciprocate to anyone but you?"

You fumble a bit at how honest his words are, searching for some way to justify yourself but at the end of the day, you'll knock your head against the wall for how stupid your logic is. So you stand on your tip toes and reach hesitantly up towards his face. Pantalone's face reminds neutral but he slowly leans into his touch, his muscles finally relaxing just by your touch.

Scaramouche

How the hell he tolerates you is anyone's guess. How the hell you tolerate him is Celestia's guess. He has the worst attitude, is quick to anger, flaunts his authority wherever he goes, and is overall a terrible person to be around. Yet every time he looks over his shoulder, you're always one step away from kicking at his heels. Which you have accidentally done before and somehow survived so he must like you a smidge. You tell him it's because it's out of spite that you're still here and spite is a powerful feeling. He of all people should know.

Scaramouche despises anyone being within his personal space, which is already a pretty big range, so the idea of someone touching him is repulsive to him. If he somehow was in danger and someone touched him in order to save his life, he would probably throw a fit and shock them. Their only reward is that he doesn't kill them. It's not like he has to worry too much, no one really wants to be in his presence longer than they have to and any admirers are quickly turned off within the first couple of seconds. Which makes it all the more baffling that you still hang around him and test just how far you can poke his limits.

The first time you touched him was by accident. Someone had bumped into you causing you to fall into Scaramouche. Luckily for you, you managed to put your hands out first and brace yourself against the wall but you had successfully caged the Balladeer between your arms. If you weren't currently fearing for your life you might have laughed at the horrified expression on the Harbinger's face. The only reason you survived that day was that Tartaglia chose that exact moment to waltz in and frankly, he was a far bigger headache than you were.

He's not sure how you managed to worm your warm into his cold non-existent heart but at some point, he got used to your presence in his life. A few words to take care of himself, extra paperwork being filled, or shooing away other soldiers so he could have space. All of these acts of kindness were met with half-baked insults and suspicious looks. Every time he asked you why the hell you were acting like he was some helpless doll you always answered the same, you just felt like it and he looked like he kinda needed it. Which was so baffling to him that you managed to walk away with your head intact.

It started off with small things. Like you're both feral cats that are trying to co-exist in the same alleyway. You always announce your presence, give him enough time to leave, and your touch is barely there. You never do anything close to intimate, never hold his hand or hold his face, and he never reciprocates ever. Although it speaks volumes when he doesn't push you away ever. You're always nearby, sitting close, and you both exist contently.

But just like a feral cat, with enough time and love, even they will begin to grow comfortable and domesticated. The look on his subordinate's face was hilarious when little old you waltzed over to the sixth harbinger, plopped down into his personal space, and literally sprawled yourself over his lap to see what he was looking at. Just to one-up the absurdness, Scaramouche didn't seem bothered in the slightest, only calling you an idiot for not being able to read the document that was right in his hands.

Although there are some downsides to being so close to Scaramouche. He's possessive with the power the enforce his pride. You have to constantly scold him that he can't go frying anyone that comes within two feet of you. It's hardly efficient and it's annoying having to scream just to know what time it is.

The you from years ago would have balked at how casual you were speaking with the infamous Balladeer.

"All I'm saying is you sound like a possessive maniac," you huff, your arms crossing over your chest as you frown down at the sitting man. You doubt he's even paying attention to you because if he isn't throwing spite around then he's filtering you out of his mind. Scaramouche barely acknowledges your words, still fiddling around with the Electro Archon's gnosis. It gives off faint sparks of electro every time he rolls it over his fingers but he doesn't give any signs of pain. Maybe because he's an electro-user? Either way, he's obviously not listening to you. You let out a loud sigh before shrugging and turning on your heel to walk back into the camp. Suddenly, his hand shoots out and latches onto your wrist and he's yanking you down. The you from years ago would have fainted seeing you sprawled over your superior's lap. As your vision tilts to the sky you can't help but think that for such a small body, he sure has a lot of strength. He wears a bored expression, his other hand is cradling his head while his elbow is on his knee, before a nasty smirk makes its way over his face.

"Yeah? So what?" Scaramouch says, his hand stopping to firmly hold the gnosis, though now one of his hands is now settled on your hip. You blink. Huh, you...weren't exactly expecting the ever-prideful Balladeer to blatantly admit that.

"Well, the "what" is that it makes it incredibly inconvenient to talk to anyone. Everyone avoids me like the plague because their scared you're doing to kick down their door and attack them," you pout, grumpily adjusting your head to lay on his knee, "Also you need to eat more. You make a horrible headrest."

"That's fine. You won't need anyone else," he says dismissively.

You open your mouth to say something but the look in his eyes makes you falter. He's serious. A mixture of a past memory, the present moment of you both together, and a far-off dream all dance in his eyes. It's a look you've never seen before on Scaramouche's face despite how long you've worked under him and you can't help but be mesmerized by it. It's likely the first and last time you'll ever see him be honest. But it's quickly over as his eyes morph into snarky glee, his lips pulling into a mean grin.

"You look stupid."

Il Dottore

People are downright terrified to even be in the same room as the infamous doctor. There's never a safe moment and anyone could be the next test subject depending on his mood. It doesn't matter who it is, even his own segments, if someone touches him that means they've just volunteered to be his next experiment. It's suffocating when Dottore is out and not locked in his lab because everyone need's to be hyperaware of where the doctor is located in the room. So to say that Dottore tolerates you is a massive understatement.

He actually quite likes to parade you around, almost like you're his newest addition to his collection. Touch isn't a problem for him if he's the one initiating it given how often he's dragging you around like you're some pet. He's not gentle in the slightest, nearly pulling your arm out in his crazed rush to show you his newest creation. You would joke and say that in moments like these, he's the one that acts like the pet. Too excited to show its owner its newest achievements. But you have a sliver of sanity in your mind so you keep your mouth shut.

Every moment with Dottore is a warped sense of time. You've been with the Doctor for a long time, before he became a Harbinger, and you don't know how your relationship progressed to this stage. You're walking on a tightrope of old colleges that are too intertwined with history to be separated or co-dependent individuals that need death to finally leave each other. So when he touches you softly, affectionally, you stumble and fall off your rope. The mad doctor laughing from above, arms still outstretched from where he's pushed you.

Half of it is madness, and half of it is out of genuine love. Although, to Dottore, madness and love are the same things. His acts of affection are spontaneous and equally as fleeting. One second he's rattling off medical terms and theories, pauses in his rant just to give you a deep kiss no matter who's around you to witness the act, and proceeds as if nothing happens. That's not to say you don't enjoy it when he decides to reward you, you just wished it wasn't in front of so many people. You suspect he does it on purpose.

There's no softness or quiet time aside from the very very few and far between moments Dottore decides to indulge you. He's a busy man, his mind only built for progress, and he has better things to do than to play pretend. But for you, the one who forcibly carved space into his heart, he can make arrangements. Only for a short while. Some days he may hold you as if you'll shatter if he squeezes any harder, other days he'll push your hair away from your eyes quietly, and one day he kisses you as if you're something more.

Unlike Dottore, you don't have an intimidating reputation. People can touch you if they want to. It makes you a bit happy when Childe will pat you on the back or ruffle your hair cheekily. He's also one of the few who can get away with it as well since Dottore can't physically harm him for touching you since he's a fellow Harbinger. Besides, people speak with their eyes more. Since that doesn't qualify as anyone touching you, Dottore won't do anything. So they stare.

They stare at how the Harbinger holds you in a special place. You aren't remarkable, you're the same as the rest of them. Yet you're untouchable and invincible from the man who can change their entire lives. Mistakes occur frequently when Dottore is in the room, the slip of a finger because everyone is too focused on staying out of the Doctor's way. You get to stand beside someone like that.

It's been a hard day. A very hard day. You're absolutely exhausted and ready to curl up into a ball as soon as you get to your room. You aren't even sure what exactly happened. One second you were doing your job and the next your head was on the ground with a pulsing pain on your right cheek. It's not unusual for patients to lash out but under those circumstances, they don't have anything to do with you intimately. You know what people think about your relationship with Dottore. What people who only glimpse into the relationship you have with him think. Usually, they stay silent, only judging you with their eyes but always silent. That is until nearly 10 minutes ago.

"You're late."

You barely react when you hear his voice. Of course, it's him. God, what bad timing. He's the last person you want to see right now, especially in this state. You only give him a nod and mumbled out apologies, stumbling over your feet like a newborn lamb when his hand latches onto your wrist to drag you off again. You think you might have his fingerprints as bruises now. Another thing people can mistakenly think about your relationship. You only know you're crying when you hear the splatter of your tears against the tiled floors and Dottore's footsteps come to a halt. His grip on you has gotten tighter.

You're startled out of your wallowing when warm hands cup your face, brushing your tears away. His gloves are off. When did he take them off? Dottore simply looks at you as you silently cry. You're too tired to apologize, too tired to break down in sobs. Your arms hang uselessly at your sides but you close your eyes and lean into his touch.

"Give me their name."

He whispers it softly. You think back at the girl that struck you. You think she's new, she has to be. You know that if you say her name, you won't see her tomorrow. But you're too tired right now. So with no hesitation, you volunteer her to become the next test subject.

[figgy-bug]

No Reason to Hide

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Characters: G/N reader [they/them], Bruno Madrigal

Warnings: Topics of s/h, mentions and descriptions of scars, all around pretty sad topics with a happy ending! Can be triggering or bothersome, so please stay safe and proceed with caution!!

Summary: everyone is out for the day on a warm summer afternoon, and y/n feels too ashamed to go. An accidental bump in from Bruno provides more comfort than expected.

A/N: I love you guys very much and appreciate all the support as of lately!! This piece is a little more self indulgent, but I thought it might be comforting to some people out there too, since Bruno is a lot of people’s comfort character. Additionally, I hope you, dear reader, are doing ok, having a good day, and taking care of yourself! You deserve the world and you absolutely deserve to be happy. Cheers to you for making it where you have!! <3

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Summer at the Madrigal house was always fun! It was rare to see anyone in their rooms during the warm months, as everyone would normally be outside playing in the grass, swimming in the river, or just being outside to soak up the sun.

Even the most introverted and reserved members of the family found something to do outside.

Today happened to be one of the first super warm days of the year! And not a moment was wasted by anyone getting outside straight after breakfast. Camilo, Mirabel, and Antonio - to Abuela’s distaste - even sat at the table in their bathing suits, planning to run off to the river straight after the meal.

Y/N however, wasn’t nearly as excited. They sat quietly at the table, with only a small portion of food, which was downed hastily. They felt out of place at the table. Everyone was wearing shirt sleeves and flowy dresses, and Y/N was there, dressed as they always were- long sleeves, long pants.

Though no one seemed to really notice or mind, it bothered Y/N to be the odd one out.

As the meal ended and everyone was getting ready to head out for the day, Y/N stood from their seat slowly, and headed the other way, back towards Casita.

“Y/N! Aren’t you coming down to the river?!” Camilo shouted after you from down the path. Y/N froze, cursing themself for not moving quick enough as to not get caught.

“Uh- y-yeah!! I just need to- uh- change first!” They said, waving Camilo off to go join his cousin and brother, who had already run off.

Camilo smiled wide and gave a thumbs up, turned, and ran down to catch up with the others.

Y/N sighed, feeling bad for lying to the boy, but not knowing what else to say. They turned and pushed open the Casita doors and started toward the staircase, heading up to the bathroom beside their own room, and gently closed the door behind them. They went over to the sink and rested their elbows on it, sighing deeply.

“Should I go to the river? I mean- it IS the first really nice day- I don’t know, I don’t wanna worry anyone…” Y/N thought to themself, picking up and toying with a hair tie that laid behind the faucet.

“Maybe it’s… not as bad as I remember…”

Y/N rolled their sleeves up and stepped back to get a look at themself in the vanity.

They sighed. “There’s no way I can go out like this- maybe I ca- gAAH!!” Y/N jumped at the door opening.

“Oh! My gosh I’m so sorry I didn’t know you were here- I mean I knocked and didn’t hear anything but-“ it was Bruno, he stood behind the door guiltily, not sure if he should keep talking or just leave.

“No no! It’s fine I was on my way out- wait you knocked??” Y/N asked, hastily dragging one of their sleeves back down, the other hand still playing with the hair tie.

“Well yeah- I always do- d-did you not hear me? Are you alright?” He asked, straightening up and walking out from behind the door.

“Uh- yeah- I’m ok!” Y/N said, trying to fix their face quickly.

Bruno seemed unsure of their response, but decided not to press on.

“Oh! I was looking for an elastic for my hair- I swear I left one in here-“

“This one?” Y/N reached out without a second thought, presenting the hair tie to the prophet.

“Yeah! Tha-“ Bruno paused, noticing a reddish, recent looking cut on Y/N’s arm

“Oh gosh are you ok?!” He asked, pulling the hair tie over his own wrist and taking Their hand, examining the wound.

As he focused on one, half a dozen other ones, ranging in size and apparent age, became clear. As his eyes widened, finally putting the pieces together, he felt Y/N tug their arm, and he released it immediately, eyes wide.

Y/N pulled their arm back and yanked down their sleeve, beginning to apologize. “I’m sorry- you weren’t supposed to see that- I don’t want to worry you- or anyone I-“

Bruno cut them off, pulling them into a hug.

Y/N began to tremble, tears welling in their eyes, as they buried their face into Bruno’s shoulder and wrapped their arms tight around his middle.

As fear, pain, and guilt overtook Y/N, their knees gave out, and Bruno followed them to the floor, where they both sat on the tile in silence.

“I’m so sorry…” Y/N said after a moment.

“For what? You have no reason to be sorry.” The prophet spoke softly, releasing them from the hug and allowing Y/N to collect themself.

“I- I never wanted you to have to see… them… I don’t want you to worry about me, I don’t want anyone to worry- I can’t go out li-“

Bruno sighed as they spoke, rolling up his own sleeves, and Y/N froze.

Dozens of semi-faded white-ish scars littered the man’s arms. They were all healed, but still visible.

He looked at Y/N as if to ask if it was alright to touch them, and when they nodded, he rolled their sleeves up again, and took their hands in his own.

“There is no reason to hide. I know it hurts, and I know it’s hard. But even when it feels like no one around you understands, I promise you, someone does.” He said softly, raising up one of Y/N’s hands and placing a kiss on the back of it.

“The first step of healing is acknowledging that you aren’t alone. And the next, is growth. Can you promise me you’ll come talk to me if you feel like this anymore?” Bruno asked with a squeeze to Y/N’s hand

They nodded, sniffling quietly, and averting eye contact.

“Good. You always know where to find me.” Bruno said ruffling Y/N’s hair and standing up, offering them a hand.

“Thank you.” They said, accepting the hand and standing up.

“Have you cleaned up those new ones? Bruno asked.

“Mhm. As best as I could at least.” Y/N replied, looking down at the few red marks on their arm, feeling a little safer to talk about them with Bruno.

“Well let’s bandage them up before we head down to the river with everyone else- I’d hate to have them get infected.” Bruno said, swerving his head around looking for a med kit.

Y/N tensed up at the mention of being in front of others like that.

Bruno noticed immediately. “Hey! It’s okay- when I came back, Julieta was the one to heal me up, and the kids just think they’re like- battle scars or something- Luisa and Isabela understand as well. No one is gonna judge you, trust me, they’re all very accepting and understanding. They got me to where I am today!” He said as he covered each new wound in a layer of bandage.

Y/N softened, smiling. It was good to know that the rest of the family was understanding, and seeing how much they had clearly helped Bruno gave them hope for themself as well.

“Ok…”

“Hm?” Bruno cocked his head

“Let’s go meet the others.” Y/N said with a shaky breath.

“Alright!! You wanna change first or would you rather stay in what you’ve got now?” Bruno said, a grin growing on his face as he started for the door.

Y/N pulled open the buttons on their shirt, revealing a bathing suit underneath

“I was planning to go with the kids earlier, before- you know- but I’m ready now!” They said, pushing the door open and holding it for Bruno.

He threw his hair up in a loose bun with the hair tie on his wrist, and started out the door.

“I’m proud of you, you know that?” He said, shoving Y/N’s shoulder lightly as they both walked down the stairs.

They smiled at the prophet warmly, thanking him genuinely.

“Hey, I’m proud of you too.”

———

I know this one was a bit on the darker side, but as I mentioned before, I really wrote this as a self indulgent kind of thing, but decided to share it to maybe give some other people the comfort it gave me!!

I do hope you enjoyed this, and I’ll be back to filling rqs and making happier content soon, so hang in there for that!!

I hope you all have a lovely day!!

[ticklish-n-stuff]

You can count on us

Is this fic self indulgent?...mAybe

Ok so the past few days I've been feeling like shit, I keep going from normal to sad constantly and it's...exhausting. I think it's no secret that tickling is a big comfort for me, and today I woke up with the itch to write somethin so I thought maybe reading/writing about a similar experience to mine would help me feel even if just a bit better.

Anyways sorry for the sad lil rant.

I originally was only gonna write RuiKasa but then I was like...make it poly WxS 'cause it's the only right answer SKAKSJAJS (im kidding obv.)

Well I hope you all like it, I am curious to know what you all think of this sadder fic lolol

___________________________________________

Rui x Tsukasa x Emu x Nene (poly WxS)

Lee: Rui

Lers: Tsukasa, Emu, Nene

Warnings: Tickles! A bit of angst??

___________________________________________

Rui is one of those people whom you can't tell what they're truly thinking or feeling. He always has that stupid teasy smirk plastered on his face so it's hard for anyone to read his facial expressions. After having a hard time making friends he kinda just learned to mask up his true emotions, but now it's different. Now he does have people in his life that he can rely on. His partners from the WonderlandsxShowtime cast have always been so supportive and understanding of him. But you know what they say, old habits die hard.

Even though he knew his partners were genuine, that empty feeling at the pit of his stomach tried to convince him otherwise. These past few days, Rui had been having multiple sad episodes where he just feels like curling up and wanting to disappear even for just a moment. It was very tiring and exhausting having to deal with that constant sadness. His partners had always reassured him that he could rely on them whenever he needed them, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to open up to them. He thought that maybe he could ignore that feeling and carry on like nothing had happened, but as the days went on it became harder and harder to hold it in. It was so bad even his usual smirk was nowhere to be found. He couldn't bare the thought of facing his partners in this state, so he started to purposely avoid them, at school, at work, whenever he ran into one of them he quickly changed direction.

Of course his partners were no dumbasses (even if they looked like it) so they quickly caught onto his odd behaviour. One day at work while Rui was trying to occupy himself with one of his inventions, the other three talked about what could possibly be tormenting him.

"Okay so everyone agrees that Rui hasn't been himself these past few days?" they all nodded their heads.

"Nene you've known him longer than us, do you know why he's been acting this way?".

"I'm not sure, he's never been good at expressing his feelings..".

"And he doesn't seem to wanna tell us either..." Emu looked down to the ground with a sad look on her face. She hated seeing one of her partners struggling all alone.

"Okay clearly something is wrong, but he won't tell us. How are we supposed to help him if we don't know what's wrong in the first place...!" Tsukasa felt frustrated and angry with himself, he wanted to help Rui so badly, but he didn't even know where to start.

As an intense silence settled over the trio, Rui himself approached them, trying to muster up his best smile even if it hurt. He hated being so close and yet so distant from his partners, but what else could he do?

"Uhh so I'm done working on my bot, if that'll be all I'll be heading back home now".

Before any of them could even think of a reply Rui was already marching away. They definitely noticed the way his face instantly dropped as he walked away. The three of them sighed in defeat, until...

"Is that...Rui's drone?".

"Uhm yeah, I guess he must've forgotten it, why do you-... Tsukasa what are you planning?" The greenette questioned once the blonde quickly took hold of the drone.

"Well...I was sorta kinda thinking that MAYBE we could use it to follow him..." he trailed off as he figured out how to opperate it.

"That's kinda weird...".

"B-but he follows people with drones all the time! Even the day we met he had been following me with one. I think it's only fair I get to do it atleast once to him... What do you think Emu?!".

"I think...that yes! I really wanna know what's bothering him, pleaaaase Nene?" Emu got on her hands and knees in front of Nene, trying to convince her into stalking their boyfriend (it sounded much better in her head).

"Ugh...fine...".

Emu cheered and slapped a big kiss on Nene's cheek as they all got around to operate the drone. After some fiddling with it they managed to put it up into the sky.

"Do you see him yet?!".

"Uhm no I don't...- Wait! I think that's him!" cheered out Tsukasa as he watched the small screen on the remote.

"Yup that's him alright, looks like he's heading straight home".

They all watched attently as Rui made his way home, nothing out of the ordinary. That was until he made it into his room, his partners watched in sadness as they saw their boyfriend sitting down on the floor, in front of his bed, and hug his knees to his chest as he burried his face between them. They could all feel their hearts shatter at the scene, but what really sent them over the edge were the muffled sobs that came from their purple boyfriend. They all quickly reacted when hearing the noise without a second thought.

"Okay we have to go, NOW!".

They all ran to Rui's house, with Tsukasa and Nene breaking and entering through the front door while Emu crawled into his room through a window. Rui was so lost in thought he didn't even bother to look up when he heard feet scattering like mad in his room. Suddenly...he felt his braint shut off when he felt three pairs of arms wrapped securely around him as his partners gently reassured him and comforted him.

"It's okay, you're not alone anymore".

"We're here for you, and we always will".

"Let it all out, you're safe now".

And just like that, Rui started sobbing louder. Letting all those held up emotions out as he relaxed in the comforting touch of his parters. He cried and cried until there were no tears left in him. Once he managed to calm down, he slowly lifted his head up to look at his partners. They couldn't help but smile fondly at him once they saw his face. Tsukasa was the first to speak up.

"How are you feeling now?".

"Better...thank you, all of you...".

The three partners smiled, before Rui questioned something.

"By the way, how did you all know I was crying...?".

Tsukasa and Emu quickly looked at anything else that seemed remotely interesting all while Nene rolled her eyes.

"Tsukasa and Emu insisted on using your own drone to follow you around".

"N-Nene!" Tsukasa tried to shut her up but she only looked back at him with a teasy smirk.

They both bickered for a while until Rui let out some soft giggles at their sillyness. They all quickly forgot about the drone incident, instead focusing on the sound of their boyfriend's giggles.

"Haven't heard those in a while" Tsukasa brought up as Rui's cheeks softly flushed at the comment. They all quickly cooed at him, which made Rui burry his face between his knees again, except this time it was out of embarrassment. This action only made his partners coo at him more.

"Aww so cute!".

"Those giggles are like music to my ears~".

"Such a precious boyfriend we have~".

All the teasing only made Rui giggle louder. His shoulders gently shook as he let out flustered giggles. "Nohoho...!".

"Looks like someone caught the case of the giggles~".

They all giggled alongside their giggly boyfriend, until a mischevious yet fun idea blessed their brains. Tsukasa cleared his throat before speaking up.

"Since our amazing boyfriend seems to be in a giggly mood, I say that we help him out~" teased Tsukasa as he poked his side. Rui instantly squeaked at the tickly touch, hugging his knees tighter.

"Oooh? Does Rui want the coochi coos??" Emu asked in a teasy tone as she softly stroked his other side up and down.

"E-Emu plehehehease!" he tried to gently swat away her hand but his arms were suddenly being pulled above his head by Tsukasa. While Nene playfully sat on his legs to keep him from curling up. He smiled nervously, knowing what was to come.

"So...do you think you can keep your arms up?" Tsukasa asked with a teasy smirk. Rui's blush grew deeper.

"I-I can try...".

Tsukasa smiled at him as he wrapped his arms along his neck. Rui tensed up as he braced for impact, he took deep breaths trying to ignore the tickly feeling, but once he felt Tsukasa poke at his armpits it was over for him.

"AHH-! W-WAHAHAIT! TSUKASA NOHOHO!" Rui's shoulders shook as he struggled to keep his arms up.

"Oh alright, I'll spare you that spot...for now~" Tsukasa giggled evily as he gently tickled along Rui's neck and jaw.

"Eep! Hehehehehehe!" Rui giggled himself silly as he tried scrunching up his shoulders.

"Aww, coochi coochi coo~" Tsukasa whispered into his ear, which caused him to squeak.

"EEK! Nahahahaha! Not thahahat!".

"But Rui loves the coochi coos!" said Emu as she playfully poked his sides up and down.

"aHA-! Ehehemu nohoho!" silly Rui shook his head and squirmed from side to side. As flustered as he felt, he was having a lot of fun. Tickling was a big comfort for him and his partners were well aware of that, they were always happy to indulge him in such a fun and comforting activity.

Suddenly, he felt some evil fingers poking at his tummy. He jumped and jolted at each poke delivered by Nene. She only watched in amusement, no teasing or anything, as she poked away at the sensitive spot.

To make matters worse...or better in Rui's case, Tsukasa started to gently scratch behind his ears, earning the cutest giggles and squeaks from their ticklish boyfriend.

"Pffft! Ahahahaha! T-thahahat tickles!".

Rui's partners smiled fondly at him, they enjoyed watching him have some innocent fun.

Not long after, he felt his shirt being pulled up as an evil finger inserted itself into his bellybutton, softly tickling it.

"GAH! N-Nene nahahat thehehere!" poor Rui let out a squeal as he arched his back, surprisingly he managed to keep his arms up at all times.

"Tickle tickle tickle~" Nene softly teased, earning another squeal from the flustered male.

After a bit more of those soft tickles, Tsukasa decided to spice things up a bit.

"You've managed to keep your arms up pretty well till now, but now I wanna hear you really laughing!" without another warning, Tsukasa dug his fingers into Rui's armpits and as he expected, his arms came crashing down in an instant.

"BWAH! AHAHAHAHAHA! TSUKASA NOHOHO!" he tried to squirm away from Tsukasa's tickly fingers but it was pretty hard with Nene in his lap.

The three of them laughed at the goofy and silly sounds Rui made at the armpit tickles, he was so ticklish there how could you not wanna exploit that spot?!

Rui's face went bright red, from the tips of his ears all the way down his neck. His eyes were also pretty watery, but his smile was so big and his laughter so bubbly and bright, it was all worth it.

Once Rui started hiccuping from the more intense tickles did his partners relent their tickle attack. Tsukasa slipped his hands out from under his arms as he gave him a tight hug from behind, Nene remained cuddled up in his lap, and Emu was cozily snuggled into his side...which felt a bit tickly. Rui took big gulps of air as his giggles subsided...or atleast most of them.

"Hehehe! T-thahanks for thahat..!" he looked over at his partners with a genuine smile, the first one in a while.

"No problem! And remember, we're here for you. Next time you don't feel so well please come talk to us".

"Yeah...sorry for not bringing it up sooner...and for becoming so distant..." Rui couldn't help but frown at the tought.

"Don't feel bad! We know you didn't mean to!" said Emu as she playfully blew a raspberry on his side.

"GAH! AHAHA!" Rui did a violent jerk to the other side, but with Tsukasa's firm yet comforting grip on him he wasn't able to squirm much.

"A happy face did always suit you better, you look weird when you're all gloomy" spoke Nene softly, trying to light up the mood. Rui looked down at her with a soft smile and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"I am feeling much happier compared to before thanks to you guys".

"Good!" cheered out Tsukasa as he peppered soft tickly kisses along the back of Rui's neck.

"Pfft! Ahahahahaha! T-Tsukasa thahat tickles!" poor Rui would try scrunching up his neck but Tsukasa would just kiss wherever it was exposed.

Nene couldn't help but roll her eyes fondly at her dorky partners, while nuzzling deeper into Rui's chest. The three of them kept on showering Rui with love and affection...and tickles for the rest of the day. He was glad he had wonderful partners he could rely on.

___________________________________________

As I was writing this it hit me, I think I've been feeling so sad because of...hormones SKAKSKAJS. 'Cause I've been feeling symptons these few days and this sadness basically showed up out of nowhere which has happened in previous months. Soo...yeah SKAJSKAJSJ

Idk about you, but whenever I feel sad for no reason I LOVE reading angst fics (especially from the haikyuu fandom for some reason LMAO, now I wonder if there are any prosekai ones...). 'Cause if I'm feeling sad, might as well get all them tears out once and for all SJAKSJAI

This was fun to write! It was quite the experience, and I'm actually feeling much better now!

[pinky-the-elephant-room]

Restart

AN: Ok so I’ve been gone for a while but I’ve hit a milestone in my followers and I decided to write one for my original anime hubby. He’s an oldie but a classic. Everyone loves Kakashi-sensei. Anyway It’s a long one so I hope you enjoy!

Warning: Implied smut but fairly SFW. 

---------------------

Everyone has read the Fanfiction, and everyone has read the stories. Someone mysteriously dies and gets reborn in a new world. Only to train and become a badass before eventually getting their favorite character to fall in love with them. All while changing the story to prevent people, they’ve never met from dying. It was a wish fulfilment story and it works as entertainment. But real life is so much more difficult than anyone realizes.

Because in the end the person I was before never really changed even when I was reborn into a world of ninjas.

My first memory that I can clearly remember is eating ice cream outside my parent’s farm. I was born in a mundane village a few miles from Konoha. Ice cream was a rare summer treat that my parents occasionally indulged me and my five siblings in. It was on this rice farm where I spent the first five years of my childhood. I went to a civilian school that taught me to write and read before spending the rest of my days helping my family. I remembered nothing from my previous life. Just flashbacks and deja vus that left reminiscent feelings lurking in the back of my mind. Kanji was unexpectedly hard for me versus my sibling who picked it up with ease. Yet, when I finally grasped the language, I kept journals of writings not knowing that it was a passion resembling my former self. I also never understood my connection with cats. I was known as the resident cat girl that went around picking up stray cats to bring back to our farm. And the cats formed a bond, only tolerating me and hissing at everyone else who dared to approach them.

The peaceful years unfortunately didn’t last. Over the years war and bandits took a toll on our quiet town and maintaining a farm was no longer profitable. So, my parents made the decision to sell off their land and move to Konoha. Though, my parents were apprehensive, me and my sibling were ecstatic at living in a shinobi village. Everyone knew of shinobis, the legends surrounding them. Tales of bravery, heartache, and loyalty, it fascinated the residents of the village.

We moved into Konoha early August just before winter arrived and were citizens after 3 months. The process was short due to our lack of shinobi lineage and arriving from a civilian farm town. It was in Konoha that I really got my first exposure to what shinobis actually were. Seeing them jump off the roofs while my father tended his produce stall was mesmerizing. Playing ninja with the rest of the kids and constantly being surrounded by the hype eventually got to the point where I wanted to become a ninja myself. Along with two of my younger siblings, I begged my parents to attend the academy. They eventually relented when they realized the village offered funding for civilian children to attend. I was the only one out of my siblings to pass the entrance exam. I was the only one physically fit enough where they thought I had potential. when I left for that first day, it led to some tantrums and pouting from my siblings who didn’t make it. They eventually overcame their jealousy. They loved to hear about each and every new jutsu that I learned.

It was at the academy when I first saw him. It was him who destroyed my delusions and awakened my suppressed memories. It was Itachi Uchiha. Yet, despite his young age he kept up with the rest of his older classmates. He was only 5 years old, a prodigy amongst prodigies. When I saw his cherub, cute face for the first time, it gave me a headache. It started off as a numbing sensation on the side of my head. I collapsed on my bed from the exhaustion, closing my eyes because the blurred vision made the pain that much worse. I slept off my headache for the rest of the day. And all my previous memories were unlocked.

I was a boring human being. A lazy person who had a multitude of mental issues that barely survived off my paycheck. Got married to an equally mundane individual and by the time we were 30, the passion had worn off. We never got divorced, too afraid of dating again and leaving our two children without each other. The only happiness that kept me grounded was my writing and my hobbies. Growing up I loved anime and lessened as I grew up with more and more responsibility. But Naruto was my childhood and coping mechanism when I got bullied. And out of Naruto was my favorite character, Itachi Uchiha.

I don’t think I need to explain why anyone likes Itachi. From his tragic background and his love for his younger brother. Once as a naïve girl, I wanted to find someone like him or at least wished for a brother who loved his younger siblings like he did. And now somehow those desires came true. Because he sat only 3 rows away. Coupled with my new body’s memories of admiration for the young boy and along with my love and knowledge of what he was going to do in the future, made me yearn for him.

Not in a weird, sexual way. After all, I was still only 8 and he 5, but I wanted to be his friend. I wanted to be his confidant and most of all I wanted to save him.

When I spotted him alone at a lunch break, I decided to go introduce myself. This was going to be the new beginning of a friendship and hopefully more down the lane.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves before approaching the quiet boy.

“Hello, are you Itachi-kun? Nice to meet you! I’m L/N Y/N and I sit behind you,” I cheerfully said and waved at him excitedly.

He blinked slowly and stared at me for a few minutes.

“Yes…. Nice to meet you too,” he uttered.

He stared at me for a few more minutes, making the situation more and more awkward. I let out a nervous chuckle and shuffled my feet at his intense gaze.

Itachi raised his eyebrow as if asking if I wanted anything else.

“Well I-“ I began, but was interrupted by a loud screech.

A boy collided with Itachi and knocked him over. The two tussled for a few minutes, the unknown boy laughing gleefully. While Itachi just sighed and dodged his rambunctious friend.

“Oy! Itachi, did you bring an extra bento that Mikoto-sama prepared?” The boy looked up and I stopped breathing.

It was a clearly healthy and alive, Shisui Uchiha. After a few minutes as the boys conversed, Shisui finally noticed me standing awkwardly in front of them.

He looked at me curiously and asked, “who are you?”

“That’s just my classmate. Anyway, Shisui I have my bento over there. Come,” the solemn boy said. The two boys then left while I just watched wide eyed.

Ok, so the first introduction didn’t go as I planned but I tried multiple times. However, each attempt was just as awkward as the first as I stammered and squirmed in front of Itachi’s inquisitive gaze. Apparently, my inept skills at talking to boys had somehow labeled me as a fangirl, I overheard the young boy tell his cousin.

Once after class, I watched a pretty Izumi clutch a content Itachi as he conversed with Shisui. The three Uchiha unaware of the turmoil in my heart as they went home for the day happily. I realized that day Itachi didn’t have a place for me. This world had no place for me because I was never meant to be here. This story wasn’t mine and it was never going to be.

I never tried again to attempt a conversation, too embarrassed by being called a fangirl. Before I knew it, the year was over and Itachi had graduated early along with his talented cousin. Farther away from my reach than ever, I again realized the difference between myself and the genius. I was still stuck in the academy at 9 years old with my peers. Most of all I knew in the depths of my heart that I couldn’t save him from his fate. Reality was much more bitter than anyone realized.

As for me I finally graduated on my birthday and my parents took us all out for yakitori at a restaurant. I was still going to try my hardest to be the best shinobi I possibly could be. At least if I couldn’t save Itachi and the Uchiha from the inevitable, which I doubt most people in my place could.

Unfortunately for me, my hardest didn’t amount to much. My sensei was a young impatient Genma who ironically had a toothpick in his mouth instead of a senbon. Let me summarize it for you, my team failed. Miserably. I stood there in horror, watching as my hopes and dreams for the future dissolved right in front of me. I rushed after Genma, pleading, and begging for another chance. Even resorting to full on ugly crying while he stood looking painfully uncomfortable.

“Please! I just wanna make a difference!” I begged as tears dripped down my face.

He sighed. “Fine! Just please stop crying. You’re embarrassing yourself and me.”

Genma recommended me for the Genin corps. It wasn’t where I wanted to be, but I also didn’t want to go back to academy. I figured if I spent a year on the corps, I could eventually find myself a Genin team before advancing onto Chunin.

However, once again what actually happened was far from my expectation. I didn’t spend a year or 2 years. I spent 7 years on the Genin corps. S-E-V-E-N. Years. I even spent a year on a Genin team when I was 13 only to realize my potential compared to my peers was very low. Don’t get me wrong my reincarnated body was ten times healthier and in shape than my previous coach potato one. I could barely run a mile in my previous life whereas now I could run 3 miles. However, that achievement paled in comparison to the average ninja. No matter what I did, whether it was taijutsu, genjutsu, or even ninjutsu was dull compared to everyone else. My punches lacked force, I didn’t have enough chakra for the higher level jutsus, and I couldn’t even tell the difference between a basic genjutsu to a complicated one.

Basically, I sucked, so I stuck to Genin corps. For the money of course, it paid pretty well in comparison to civilian jobs. I bought an apartment at 15 and I was able to provide for myself. But the crushing truth took a toll on my mental health. I just spend the time where I wasn’t working in my bed. I barely had energy to feed myself. I didn’t snap out of until I got straightened out by my mother.

“Y/N! When was the last time you took a bath or had a proper night sleep?!” Okasan yelled when she made an impromptu visit to my apartment.

I shrugged and took a bite of my rice ball that Okasan so nicely prepared for me.

“Look, I know being a ninja was your goal. But not everything in life works out. And not everyone has to be a shinobi to have a good life!” she said as her eyes softened.

“But what else am I supposed to do? I’ve been training to be a shinobi since I was 8 years old and none of the other jobs pay so generously,” I replied dully.

Okasan reached over and patted my hand. “Well, you don’t have to quit being a Genin just yet. Try new things or figure what else you want to do before you retire. Hell, when was the last time you had a hobby? You don’t even write like you use to.”

I considered it, maybe I could take up calligraphy or start writing again like I used to. I haven’t written anything down since I made Genin.

“Alright, I’ll think about it. But I’m not promising anything,” I grumbled.

“As long as you snap out of this funk and start taking care of yourself is all I ask for, Y/N” Okasan said with a soft smile.

It took a while after that conversation, but little by little I started to put in effort again. I cut my shaggy hair into an acceptable style, showered every day, and ate my meals on time. I even adopted a little stray off the streets that made itself home in my small apartment. One night coming home after my late shift, I stopped by a bookstore to buy a sturdy journal. I started off by journaling my daily life before letting my creative mind drift. In my previous life, I was a self-published erotica writer that basically did it for fun. Maybe it was something I could attempt again.

There were many drafts before I settled on a topic that I felt passionate about. In the Elemental nations, they idealized a woman who waited. Just take the bestselling Icha Icha novel for example, it involved a ninja who abandoned his wife because he was scared his enemies would target her. He spent the entire novel hoeing his way through the countries, only to realize he was still in love with his wife. The wife, who by the way, spent years celibate and faithfully waiting for her husband. That novel made me infuriatingly mad because it highlighted the double standards of the world I was born in so well. Hell, even in the future Sakura and Hinata would waste their lives, faithfully waiting on the men they love to reciprocate their feelings.

So, for my novel I decided to juxtapose those stereotypes by writing a novel about a woman named Sayaka whose boyfriend would break up with her, unknowing she was pregnant with his child. She spends her life trying to provide for her child, only for him to be kidnapped because he had a rare keikei genkai. She hires a local mercenary (Mahiro) except he’s not interested in her money but rather her. The rest of the plot was not decided yet, but I would see where it goes and plan accordingly.

The more I wrote the better I felt and the disappointment that was my career no longer felt like a death sentence. Without a laptop or anything to help me write, I had to resort to buying a used typewriter. Still I would rush home each day, excited to write another chapter. Or to get lost in the filthy world of the mercenary and desperate mother. There weren’t a lot of people I could trust to edit so I spent months editing and reediting until I had the best version of my novel. And then when I was done, I had no idea what to do with it. Did I really want to become an erotica author in this world? As violent as it was, the Elemental nations were still conservative regarding sexuality. There were many female readers who loved Icha Icha but didn’t show it in public because it was seen as a dirty book for old men. After much deliberation, I decided to contact publishing agencies that weren’t affiliated with Icha Icha.

Waiting for their responses took months and many rejections before my novel was picked up by a small agency that mostly published Nonfiction. The agency would send an editor to talk about contracts and the novel itself to Konoha. So, by my 18th birthday, I was anxiously awaiting where else fate would take me.

The editor and I had decided on a family restaurant to meet up and I dressed in my best clothes to give off the optimum impression. I really wanted this to work out for me. For once.

It didn’t take long before a harried young man in a suit came in and looked around anxiously.

“Nino-san! Over here!” I called out and waved my hand to get his attention.

He looked at me in surprise and sat down across from me.

“Uh, hello. Excuse me can you tell when Y/N-san will arrive? I’m kind of on a deadline.”

I looked at him weirdly. “Um, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you,” I said cautiously.

He stuttered wildly, blushing as he pointed at me. “B-be serious! No way are you her! You’re way too young to be writing such a – “

“Filthy, dirty novel?” I finished wryly.

He shook his head vigorously. “No! I meant such a hardcore erotica! I-I’m so sorry that came out wrong.”

I just laughed. “It’s ok. I’m a shinobi, we age faster than we look due to the trauma.”

We spent the next hour talking about the novel itself and how it would be promoted.

“So, Y/N-san. Our agency usually doesn’t deal with erotica. But your novel has a good chance to sell well if someone promoted it correctly. We want this to be known as the Icha Icha for women.”

I felt my eyebrows furrow. “Isn’t that a little presumptuous? Won’t I just get hate if I don’t live up to the expectations?”

The man let out a chuckle. “That’s true but I don’t think most people will be disappointed by it. Besides it’s very important for new authors to get their name out there. Maybe for future sequels we can tone it down, but for the first one we want to start off with a bang! Any publicity is better than none,” he reasoned.

Realizing the editor might have a point, I agreed and signed a contract with the publishing agency. The novel was due to be out December which is 6 months from now on. For the first time in a while I had achieved my goals. I had managed something without it going terribly wrong.

I got a small sum of money when I signed the contract, but I really wouldn’t be to collect royalties until the book was published. So, for the rest of my time I diligently did my job as a Genin by delivering messages and other nonsense jobs that were left over. As I avoided the shinobi bars that were filled with accomplished Chunins and Jounins, I promised myself that I would never again be embarrassed to walk these streets again. For the past few years, I had kept my eyes down as I walked through the villages as I got older and older, yet I still remained a Genin.

‘Please no more. Give me something to be proud of.’ I begged in my mind. Even if it meant a trashy porn, I was so low on self-esteem, anything would be worthwhile.

Luckily for me, it seemed like 18 years of bad karma was finally going to be turned around as the date to publish my novel got closer and closer. The agency hadn’t lied, they promoted my novel almost aggressively. Every bookstore had huge advertisement declaring the next big hit. Though, I had giggled almost manically when I saw the book’s cover for the first time. It reminded me of the many trashy novels from my previous life with the man’s shirtless abs on display with a beautiful woman clinging. However, for my novel it was obviously a rogue shinobi with his chest on display as a young girl clutched his biceps. Scarlet Heart series was the name I had chosen, and it stood out on the erotic cover. I saw many curious women fluttering around the display, almost shy in showing their interest. I even saw a man pulling away his pregnant wife as she read the synopsis, muttering angrily to himself.  

When the launch of the book occurred, I holed myself in my apartment. I tried to relax and keep myself busy so I wouldn’t be too occupied with the reactions. I even took an entire week off from my usual work, feigning sickness in my family. I hung out with my oldest brother and his newborn son, trying to reacquaint myself with the siblings that I had long neglected.

I met up later with my editor to discuss how the book was faring, hopefully it did decent enough that I could have reason to continue my story. We met up at the same restaurant as before and Nino gave me a brilliant smile that quelled my fears.

“Y/N-san, your book’s sales did amazing in Konoha followed by Iwa and Kumo. The marketing towards women paid off because most of the sales came from women in their 20s to 40s. Heck, there were even a substantial amount from men who were curious. I think you should definitely continue this series. Do you have an idea where you’re going to take the story?” he gushed with excitement.

I sighed with relief, “I’m glad. I was so worried about the response I didn’t even go near any bookstores! As for sequels I have an inkling. I still have to work out everything, but I want to introduce Sayaka’s ex-boyfriend and maybe dabble in a proper love triangle.”

Nino-san nodded and said, “you should be careful how you write that triangle though. Some love triangles can get tedious and annoying, but it does play its part well in keeping the audience’s interest.”

Nino-san and I eagerly discussed the future for Scarlet Heart. I felt a flutter in my heart, knowing that for the first in forever I had something to look forward to.

 Time Skip~ 1-year Kakashi POV:

Really with everything he had endured in his life, you would think the world would be willing to give him a break, right? Nope!

Most think it started with Obito’s death, but he thought it started with his father’s suicide that really began the downward spiral. Nevertheless, after his teammate’s death, he and Rin had rushed into a presumably “relationship”. But really it was a way to keep her close, so he didn’t lose anyone else. They never even kissed though he knew Rin desperately wanted to do all the things that couples do. But he remained closed off in those four months before she was killed. By him no less.

Afterwards included him coping with his trauma by joining Anbu (and for a short while Root). His sensei became Hokage; but even he would pass away along with his wife, leaving behind a tiny blond sacrifice for the village to turn their resentment against.

But he was getting ahead himself months before Rin’s death Jiraiya-sama had approached him with a gift.

Jiraiya gave him an exaggerated wink and giggled. “Here gaki. You’re so depressed that Minato and Kushina keep thinking they might have to stage an intervention. But what you need is a distraction and I have just the thing!”

He had handed over a book with a bright red cover before hopping roof to roof all the while laughing obnoxiously.

He took it with a surge of curiosity, emotions he hadn’t felt in a while since Obito tragically passed away (AKA crushed by a boulder, but he digresses).

That started his love, well more like obsession, with the Icha Icha series. First, he was revolted and ashamed, eager to find the Sannin and perhaps show him the effectiveness of his Chidori. But over time his curiosity couldn’t be contained, and he finished the naughty book in two days. He noticed how when he was occupied with the book, he hadn’t once thought of Obito and everything that was wrong with his life. Of course, he had a girlfriend then so he couldn’t risk being seen with the book outside of his humble apartment. But a year after Rin’s death, he ventured out with his hobby. The reactions of the general public had amused him beyond belief and a strange sense of vindictive righteousness set upon seeing his Anbu kohais’ reactions.

The reactions only encouraged him to read everywhere and anywhere. He even managed to piss off Gai once as the incensed man ran away to do a 100 more laps around the village. It didn’t last long before he reappeared to challenge Kakashi once more, but Kakashi appreciated the brief reprieve.

Anyway, the point of this rather tragic flashback wasn’t to gain sympathy for himself, but to showcase the real injustice that occurred at his tender age of 25. His beloved Icha Icha had a rival apparently. Which was bullshit, obviously. He wasn’t blind to the errors of the pornographic novel. The plot was simple, characters were paper-thin, and as more novels debuted in the series, the more apparent the similarities between each novel became. But the series was fast moving, the sex was incredibly detailed and arousing, and the series was frankly addicting. Once someone became a fan, it was impossible not to reach for the next one.

So, when he heard about this supposed series that was going to rival Icha Icha, he had scoffed and rolled his eyes. Many contenders claimed the same thing before they faded off into oblivion when everyone realized the superiority of Icha Icha. The first four months of the series’ debut he made it his mission to ignore all the hype and kept rereading his collection. After all, when the next issue of Icha Icha released, everyone would forget the hype of this wannabe.

Unfortunately, the world never adheres to his expectations and loves to fuck him over every chance it got. Kakashi, once again, had failed another Genin team because Hokage-sama thought he had potential as a sensei. He must have been smoking that pipe too much lately. The rest of his fellow Jounin invited him to a bar where he reluctantly agreed and was dragged off by Asuma.

They settled in and ordered some drinks, while Kakashi read his book, half listening to the conversation around him.

“I’m telling you this book is really good. I know people say it’s for women, but it’s so much more than that.” Kurenai persuaded Genma who just looked skeptical.

“Even Asuma liked it!” She pointed to the smoker who just looked embarrassed at the sudden attention.

Asuma cleared his voice a couple times. “Well, it’s not that bad at all. It kept me busy for a couple of hours for a few days.”

Kurenai rolled her eyes at him. “He loved it. He told me he did.”

Kakashi’s interest peaked and he lowered his book down.

“Wait, are you talking about that new series that everyone’s losing their minds over?”

Kurenai’s eyes lit up and she looked eager rather than the calm, collected Jounin she usually was.

“Yeah, you read it Kakashi? I never thought for once you would put down that trash and try something else.”

Kakashi felt his ire rise and his single visible eyesmiled at the red eyed kunoichi.

“Why Kurenai doesn’t that book also have porn in it? Doesn’t that mean you read trash too?”  

Kurenai’s cheeks heated up. “Well, it does but it’s also about a betrayed woman who learns to love again and honestly it’s much more nuanced than whatever Icha Icha achieved in its six sequels.”

Kakashi felt his eyebrows rise. He highly doubted that, but he couldn’t help but add in.

“And how do you know what’s in Icha Icha?”

The blush on Kurenai’s face deepened. “I might have read it but only because Anko forced me to. To ‘loosen’ up or whatever that means.”

Their fellow Jounin chuckled as Kurenai tossed back a drink as she tried to cool her overheated face.

The conversation moved on mercifully for the embarrassed woman, but Kakashi also lost his interest and he returned to the passage where Misaki was educating her lover on the preciseness of oral sex.

Kakashi hoped that would be the last time he ever heard of that book. But again, the hype for this novel continued. He spotted more women with erotica in their hands than he ever did in his lifetime. Even kunoichi seemed to have lost their minds as the book was the hot topic no matter where he went. Even the Hokage’s secretary was seen reading the porn while she was on the job. He was sick and tired of hearing about this supposedly incredible book. Kakashi just wanted to read his book in peace can’t the village go back to a time where it wasn’t consumed by porn?

Kakashi sighed as another day passed and yet another Genin team failed. When will Hokage-sama finally get the message he just wasn’t cut out for teaching? He sighed with relief as he flipped the entrance banner of Ichikaru Ramen and sat down on one of the stools.

“Just a miso ramen. Thanks,” he called out tiredly. Kakashi looked around the restaurant and was surprised to see another person at the other end. He barely noticed her; her chakra presence wasn’t much. She was just in a plain white t shirt and some pants. A civilian he guessed. Kakashi turned back when his order was placed in front of him. He stealthily looked around the restaurant and saw no one was paying attention to him. He pulled down his mask and started eating his meal. It was nice not to eat in big gulps for once lest someone saw his face.

When he was halfway through his meal, he heard the sound of someone turning pages and muttering. He turned around to see his neighbor writing in her book and she seemed to be fairly frustrated. Just as Kakashi was about to turn around and mind his business, he noticed that the book was the infamous Scarlet Hearts. He internally groaned. Really? Just how bad was his luck?

“Is the book any good?” He called out to the young girl.

Oh, damn why was he getting her attention? Abort!  Abort! This day didn’t consist of making polite conversations with a civvie.

Just as he was about to maybe perform a last minute shunshin, the girl looked up at him and stared at him in surprise.

He felt nervous when she just kept staring at him for a while. Did she recognize him as the “friend killer” and infamous “copycat ninja”?

“Uh- Hello?” He waved his hands in front of her face.

The girl looked startled and flushed. “Oh, sorry. I got lost in thought. What was your question again?”

Kakashi pointed at her book and asked, “the book, is it as good as the hype says it is?”

She just seemed even more startled by the fact that he was asking about her book. “W-well, I’m not sure about other people’s opinions. But it’s worth reading just for curiosity’s sake. I found it pretty good.”

Kakashi stared at the awful book, wishing he could set it on fire just by glaring at it. “See, I don’t see why people are comparing it to Icha Icha. It can’t possibly be that good!”

“I kind of have to agree on that. The marketing really didn’t do it justice,” the girl muttered.

Kakashi tilted his head towards the younger girl and sent a relaxed smile her way. “Ah, thank you. Finally, someone who understands.”

The girl shook her head. “I meant trying to compare the two books wasn’t a good idea. They’re two different books, the only thing they have in common is that they both have explicit scenes.”

Seeing the confused look on his face, the girl further elaborated. “Icha Icha is intended for a one type of audience and it does its job well. There’s nothing wrong with that after all it has an ardent fan in you. But I feel like Scarlet Heart can be enjoyed by any mature individual. And for me what’s the most important thing is that it portrays its women realistically. Icha Icha is based off this fantasy, ideal type of woman who doesn’t have any drama of her own and goes around solving the male character’s issues. Or she’s a passive victim in the overall story for the hero to win over. This heroine in Scarlet Heart is cynical, hard to get to know due to her past. The male character is a typical chauvinistic guy who thinks he can have anyone he wants. But over time as they get to know each other the layers fall apart to show two lonely people who’ve been waiting for someone to connect to.”

Kakashi looked at the girl critically who sent a tentative smile to him after her long explanation. Her features were quite plain and at first glance she wasn’t anything exceptional to look at. But her smile lit up her entire face.  He thought over her words, no one had ever explained the book quite like that. But then again, he never gave them the time to explain either. Perhaps, he was wrong to do so.

“Here maybe you would like to form an opinion yourself and see if it holds up,” she said as she handed over her own copy of Scarlet Heart.

He grabbed it from her grip, touching her soft hands by accident, quickly pulling away. “Are you sure? Weren’t you writing in it earlier?”

With a cute prominent blush, she replied, “it’s fine I bought that paperback copy to write in. I have another one at home. You can keep it. If we meet again tell me what you thought of it.”

Kakashi nodded and put the book with his Icha Icha in the weapon pouch on his hip.

“Mah, I’m sure we will. By the way what’s your name? After all, when I see you next time, I have to thank the person who will put up with my complaints.”

“Oh, I’m L/N Y/N. Nice to meet you,” she said with another bright grin aimed his way.

Ignoring the unconscious shivers that erupted on his body, he returned it with another one of his patent fake smiles.

“Hatake Kakashi. Nice to meet you as well, Y/N-san.”

The conversation died a few minutes later and he paid for his meal before leaving for his lonesome apartment. Maybe today the lonely dwelling won’t be so bad to deal with, what with new reading material the night might just pass by really quickly.

   Return to Reader’s POV

You know when I began my porn writing journey in the Naruto world, I never for a second thought I would attract Kakashi’s attention. I mean I knew he read porn, but I honestly thought he would stay attached to Icha Icha forever. In the anime, he still read the book even years after Jiraiya’s death, so it just goes to show how much of a devoted fan he was.

When I met him accidently in Ichikaru Ramen, I was in a state of shock. I’m pretty sure he thought I was just another weird fangirl. ‘Just like Itachi.’ I couldn’t help but think.

But him asking about my novel and actually pouting about the attention it gained made me giggle even hours later. Still giving away the novel I was rereading to spot mistakes and plot holes was bold. I genuinely hoped he liked the novel; it would be a huge compliment if I managed to change his perspective. I know I wasn’t ever going to change his mind about Icha Icha, but he had plenty of money to support both series. I probably wasn’t ever going to see him again, but it was nice to interact with a canon character for once without entirely embarrassing myself.

I shook off the excitement from interacting with the scarecrow sensei and tried to focus on brainstorming my second novel. The love triangle was going to become much more integral in this part and I was going have to work extra hard to make readers sympathize and like Shoutaro. Because many of my readers were already enamored with the hotheaded, flirtatious mercenary with a heart of gold, Mahiro. The best way to build the triangle was to showcase pros and cons of both men. Thereby making the triangle stronger and give readers something to root for. While there would be only one man who would get the girl, I wanted readers to feel conflicted between the two men. However, to keep the choice from happening out of nowhere, I also had to hint throughout the novel why Mahiro and Sayaka was the best choice. So, by the third novel when Sayaka made her choice, it wouldn’t seem like it happened out of nowhere. Indeed, the sequel was harder to write than the first one because I had high expectations to overcome this time. Brainstorming even took longer than normal. Though, it was challenging, I decided needed a break and took a trip to the markets to finally restock my empty fridge.

Slowly I made my way through the vegetable stalls and tried to pick out the ripest ones. Most people usually tried to barter the prices. However, since the massive royalties I had more money than I knew what to do with and so I paid the full amount at each stall. Most of the produce stalls were run by elderly couples and they needed the money for their livelihood.

I bowed to an obasan and thanked her when she gave a few extra tomatoes after I paid.

“You know most people would try to barter the prices down to a fair price,” a deep voice interrupted just as I was about to walk away.

I jumped and almost dropped my produce. A steady hand gripped my hips and set me right. I looked up to the masked, silver haired Jounin. I blushed, feeling his strong hands on my body. His single eye widened a bit before he relaxed and let go of me.

“You ok?” he asked.

“Y-yes, thank you. Hatake-san,” I stuttered and bowed my head.

“Ma, no need to call me Hatake-san. That makes me feel older than people think I am.” He said as he waved off my gratitude.

“Hai, K-kakashi-san then. What are you doing here? No offense but I didn’t realize that elite shinobis had time to shop and cook for themselves.”

It was true from what I heard. All elite shinobi, especially men, rarely cooked for themselves relying on easy to make or restaurants meals to get them through the day. Some even ate rations to forgo meals in a rush.

Kakashi raised his eyebrow at me. “Well, I was actually looking for you. I’ve finished the book you loaned me after a week. It’s only right to return it.”

I shook my head. “It’s alright. I told you to keep it didn’t I?”

I felt my head get hit lightly by something. I looked up to see it was my paperback novel. When did he pull that out? Did he have it on him all this time and I didn’t noticed it until now?

“You’re quite stubborn, aren’t you? Let’s just say I needed an excuse to find my partner in crime and tell her my opinion of the book.”

I sighed, realizing that I couldn’t get away from his rant that he will no doubt tell me with relish on how much he hated the book.

“Alright, but I have to put my groceries away.” I said lifting my bags.

“It’s fine. As long as it isn’t milk or meat it wouldn’t be spoiled for a few hours. Come on, I’ll treat you to some dango.” He walked away slightly slouched and relaxed with his hands in his pockets.

I looked after him helplessly, hesitating on whether I should follow or not.

“You better follow him, jou-chan. He’s quite handsome,” the obasan said as she helped another customer. A few giggles slipped out from the customer and I felt my cheeks go hot from embarrassment. I bowed and thanked the elderly lady again before following the Jounin.

I caught up to him in no time, we both walked silently before we came onto the small stand that was selling the sweet.

Kakashi told me to take a seat on a bench nearby as he grabbed the sweets. I put down my groceries near me as I waited for my companion to return.

He came back with two skewers of dango and handed me one while he held onto the other one.

“So, what did you think of the novel?” I asked as I took a bite of the dango.

“I hate it to admit it but it’s good. Not better than Icha Icha of course, but it’s better than some of the others that tried to ride the coattails of Icha Icha.”

I felt a burst of butterflies inside my stomach and I leaned forward eagerly. “Really?!! What did you like it about it specifically?”

He seemed amused at my enthusiasm. “Ah, well I liked how the author built up the romance. They didn’t have sex right away, but when they did it made sense-“

I felt my heartbeat increase and my ears felt hot when I heard the word sex come out of Kakashi’s mouth. How did I ever not know how nice his deep voice was? I bet he would be really good at dirty talk—Ahh, nononono. That was not a good topic to think about while you’re talking to the man. I bit my lip to concentrate on what Kakashi was trying to tell me.

“And I like how the female characters made smart decisions and acted cautiously instead of getting kidnapped all the time. It made them seem like real people instead of plot conveniences.” He finished with an eyesmile.

I returned his smile, liking that he appreciated the portrayal of the female characters. Some of the detractors apparently didn’t like the more rounded characters and felt they should just be used as sauce instead of being the main dish.

“Do you prefer the woman in Scarlet Hearts or Icha Icha?” I asked playfully.

He narrowed his eyes at my tone. “Weeeell, the women in Icha Icha are much more beautiful, but the women in Scarlet Heart are more attainable than the ones in Icha Icha.”

I let out a laugh. “That’s nice to hear. But I’m pretty sure that Sayaka isn’t a real person. Sorry, Kakashi-san.”

He let out a disappointed sigh. “I guess I will have to safeguard my heart until I can find someone close to her then.”

I snorted knowing Kakashi would remain single even at the end of the series where everyone was getting married and having kids.

“What? You think it’s hopeless?”

I just sent him an innocent smile and said,” I have no idea what you’re talking about Kakashi-san.”

Me and Kakashi stayed for a few more minutes before I decided to head home. Kakashi stuck close to me, telling me he would keep me company until I arrived. He looked surprise at the neighborhood I was living in. The small apartment I was previously inhabited was now upgraded to an upscale three-bedroom apartment. It was a safe neighborhood that was occupied by wealthy merchants and high-ranking shinobis. I ignored his reaction and continued to walk toward my apartment.

When I had trouble trying to juggle my groceries and trying to grab my keys from my purse, Kakashi stepped in to grab my bags. I thanked him and opened the door. He casually walked in and left the bags in the kitchen at my directions.

“Would you like some tea? I think some tea would be good with the sweets we just had.” Kakashi just nodded in agreement as he looked around my apartment. The tiny stray who I adopted became a giant, fluffy monster who was now sniffing Kakashi’s feet and rubbing against his legs.

I giggled and left to make some iced sencha green tea. I tried not to let my excitement that THE Hatake Kakashi was standing in my living room, distract me from being a good host. I filled the glass with tea and dropped some ice cubes in it before putting it on a tray and bringing it out to the living room.

“Kakashi-san? Here’s your tea,” I called out happily and looking up to see Kakashi’s back.

I furrowed my eyebrows when he didn’t respond. “Kakashi-san?” He was still turned around and looking at something.

I put the tray down on a coffee table and approached the unresponsive Jounin. I looked down to see papers in his hand and felt my face pale drastically.

“A-ahhh! That’s not for your eyes!” I laughed hysterically and snatched my papers from his hands. I quickly took all my notes and notebooks which I brainstormed in and dropped them off in my bedroom. With a head full of excuses as to why I had Scarlet Heart’s sequel on the sofa, I made my way back to Kakashi.

“You’re the author of Scarlet Heart?”Was the first thing he asked when he saw my face. I felt my face heat up.

“U-um, no! That was just me amateurly writing as to what I think will happen in the future!”

He shot me a serious look. “Do you think I’m stupid? That was the first chapter all neatly written down. And the character profiles of future characters like her ex-boyfriend are all filled out accurately. Plus, you’re a single young girl that’s living in such a rich neighborhood which many people can’t afford unless they have some serious cash. Cash from a recently released erotica maybe?”

His intense gaze made me sweat profusely and I couldn’t hold eye contact for more than a minute.

“Yes. Yes, I’m the author of Scarlet Hearts.” I whispered, looking at the ground.

I quickly gazed back at him when I heard a snort. Kakashi gave me an incredulous look.

“I can’t believe it. Even though I saw it with my own eyes. You’re so young! How old are you, 16?”

I pouted, puffing out my cheeks. “I’m 19! Besides you’re a shinobi what does age even matter? You’re a legal adult when you’re a Genin!”

Kakashi let out a chuckle and softly patted my head. “I know that but you’re a civilian so it’s different.”

I bit my lips deciding whether to tell him I was actually a former Genin corps. Deciding I didn’t need the genius looking at me in pity, I didn’t correct him.

“Well, now that you know. Please keep this a secret, ok? I just want to live in anonymity and write my books. Hence the pen name.”

Kakashi agreed and messed with my hair some more.

“You got it, Y/N-chan.” I blushed at the added chan in my name.

He downed his iced tea in a hurry when an Anbu appeared at the window with a mission for him. I watched with amazement as Kakashi disappeared with a shunshin and then scowled heavily looking at all the leaves on the floor of my apartment.

“Note to self. Do not let elite shinobi shunshin in and out of my apartment,” I grumbled to myself as I swept up.

Kakashi’s POV 2

You know how once you find out something about someone it changes how you look at them. He was now intensely curious about Y/N. He figured she was a normal innocent girl, but boy was he wrong about everything. How was he supposed to know that the sex scenes that had him riveted to the point that he took a shower to calm himself before he resumed reading was written by a cherub slip of a girl? After his discovery Kakashi was unable to leave her alone. He frequently took time out of day when he wasn’t on a mission or training his helpless cute team (he had a team now!!), he was spending time with Y/N. It was kind of weird at first after all he went out of his way to avoid human contact, but in this case, he wanted to know what made her tick. All her favorite things and her habits. Kakashi wanted to know what made her sad or what made her be flushed with happiness.

Most of all he wanted to know how she came up with all the scenarios in her novel. But even he knew that if he asked her bluntly, she would no doubt kick him out of her apartment and refuse to speak to him again. It also didn’t help that his imagination went wild each time he saw her. All those scenarios would inappropriately pop up in his head and she would star in all of them. The blush on her face gave him a good idea on how she would look with her eyes dilated and with him on top. Whenever that happened the excitement coursing through would become prominent and he had to take a few breaths to calm him down. Imagining Gai in a bikini always did the trick for him.

Kakashi, after months of speculation, came to one conclusion as why Y/N was so fascinating. He wanted her. He wanted her in a way that men who were attracted to women did. In a way that meant commitment and all the mushy feelings. He groaned at that idea, Kakashi so didn’t want to act like Minato-sensei whenever he was around his hot-headed wife.

He could just ignore the feelings; he was quite good at ignoring all the turmoil inside of him. But his crisis shinobi therapist said he could no longer do that. He had to solve his lingering issues if he wanted to move forward with his life like his survivor’s guilt and his unresolved issues with his dead father. So that meant he had to make it obvious to Y/N that he liked her. Should he shout his youthful love on the top of the Hokage mountain at early in the morning like Gai would do? Kakashi chuckled at the novel idea. Ok, he was trying to get her to date him not run away from him. Luckily for him, fate decided to not be a bitch this time and give Y/N a nudge.

Kakashi was inside of her apartment like he usually was nowadays with her round monster of a cat on his lap. He absentmindedly patted the feline as he purred away like no one’s business. His ninken weren’t happy with him lately, but they will have to put up with it because Y/N was going to be around him for a long time if he had anything to say about it. He looked at Y/N who was hard at work on her second novel, typing away at the machine she called a typewriter. No matter what Kakashi did today, he wasn’t able to get her attention. She was intensely focused on the sex scenes apparently, which was a shame. Because he was right here, and she could be doing much more than just imagining it.

A mischievous idea popped into his head.

“So, Y/N-chan,” he called out.

She responded with a distracted “hm”.

“Do those explicit parts have any truth to them?”

That got the attention of Y/N and she turned around with a confused look.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean most people write about what they know. So, I’m asking if you have attempted anything from the books you write?”

Kakashi had pride within himself for the many ways he made Y/N blush. But the flush on her cheeks, ears, and her neck had no rival with the way her eyes seem to swirl with embarrassment.

“Kakashi-kun! I-I-. You can’t just ask that!”

“It’s true though. Everyone does research for their novels. Especially Jiraiya-sama,” he stated nonchalantly despite his eyes beaming with amusement.

She pressed her hands against her overwhelmingly hot cheeks.

“I’m not like that Sannin! I’ve never had sex before! I’m still a virgin. I just write whatever pops into my head,” she mumbled out.

Kakashi got up and made his way to Y/N. He leaned into her face as Y/N tried to scramble back, trying to get some space in between them.

“Y/N, if you ever need inspiration for your book. I’m right here and I’m happy to volunteer for such a good cause,” he said cheekily.

Her eyes widened and she gaped at him. She blinked several times as if she couldn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth.

Kakashi touched her cheeks, breaking her out of the stupor she was in. As he stroked her soft skin with one hand, the other pulled down his mask to reveal his face.

Y/N let out a squeak and gazed hungrily at his exposed face. Kakashi never considered what people thought of his face honestly but her reaction was gratifying.

He leaned in even closer and her eyes fluttered closed at his proximity. Knowing she was anticipating as much he was, Kakashi wasted no time in connecting their lips. She tasted heavenly and she let out a moan when he gently nipped at her bottom lip. He’s kissed plenty of willing partners, but none excited him the way she did. Her scent and the way her breath hitched when he brought her into his embrace intoxicated him further. It was obvious from the way she was responding; Y/n didn’t have a lot of experience. But he held her face gently and slowly swirled his tongue around hers, guiding her through what might be her first kiss. When she got the hang of it, Kakashi removed his hands from her face to her hips. Not wasting another moment, he gripped her ass tightly and appreciated the thickness he had been admiring for a while. She was an eager little thing and greedy. Every time they separated for a breather; she came back with more intensity than before. It’s like he awakened something, and she was willing to take whatever she could get. Unfortunately for Y/N, he didn’t just want to spend his time kissing. No, he wanted to inspire a very, very naughty section that would light the imagination of every woman in Konoha.

Kakashi pecked her pink, swollen lips one time before removing himself. She looked earnestly at him, trying to reconnect.

“How about you and I head to your room. And I could show you the benefits of a chapter on oral sex,” he huskily whispered.

Apparently, Y/N didn’t need further prompting because she dragged him into her room and swiftly closed the door.

Kakashi spent the rest of the night fulfilling his promising words. And when the second novel of Scarlet Hearts came out, chapter 13 became infamous amongst all. And all the practitioners of oral sex cursed the author because they could not live up to the fantasy that chapter inspired.

[hidden-otaku-stuff]

Connection

Word count: 1061

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Daichi x gn reader

AN: This has been on the back-burner ever since @neonghxst​ wrote that cute-ass match-up for me and Daichi so major S/O to the sweetest anon for requesting that I write something self-indulgent 🥺🥰 

“Come on big guy, let’s go!” You grinned, looking down at the chocolate Labrador beside you.

“That’s a bit casual, don’t you think?” A male voice had you shooting up, straightening your back. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know there was someone there.” Your cheeks felt hot as you took in the male who was leaning against the counter. He was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans, a pair of shades propped onto his head. “Can I help you?”

“Ah yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just moved here, and I’m used to having company. My friends were always at my house and stuff. I was hoping to check out some of your animals?” He widened his eyes, averting his eyes as his cheeks began to glow. “I’m so sorry for oversharing.”

You giggled, patting the lab’s head. Daisuke’s tongue lolled out as he wagged his tail faster. “You’re fine! Let me walkie someone to come take care of you, okay? I’d do it myself but I gotta take this big guy out on a walk.” 

He leaned down with a hand outreached. Daichi paused, looking up at you, “may I?” 

“Yes of course!” You squatted down, letting the dog lick your face before Daichi caught his attention. “This fella here is Daisuke.” You pulled the walkie out, “Hey, can I get someone in the lobby?” 

“Be there in a bit, (Name)!”

“Thanks!” You watched with amusement as Daisuke kept licking the male. 

“So, you’re (Name)?” The stranger looked up, his brown eyes sparkling. 

“Yeah,” you fiddled with your bag. “Sorry, I should’ve introduced myself earlier. I’m (L.Name, Name).”

“I’m Sawamura Daichi,” he stood, extending a hand. “But you can call me Daichi.”

“Well Daichi, hopefully I’ll see you later. Welcome to town!” With a cheerful smile, you tugged on Daisuke’s leash. “C’mon big fella.”  

After twenty minutes, you lead Daisuke back to the center. The dog was still bouncing around as he sniffed every single thing that you came across on your way back. As you re-entered the building, you were surprised to see Daichi still around. The male was once again leaning his back against the counter, his focus on his phone. You clear your throat, catching his attention. “Oh hey, you’re back.” Daisuke bounds over to Daichi, tail wagging furiously. Daichi offers you a blinding smile, patting Daisuke’s head. 

“I’m sorry, were you waiting for me?” 

“Sorta?” You raised an eyebrow at that. A pink glow overtakes his features. “I didn’t really connect with any of the other dogs. Do you think I could spend some more time with Daisuke?” 

“Oh! Yes, of course.” You beam. “Here, we can head to the meeting room.” You click your tongue, causing Daisuke to come back to your side. 

“You seem to have a lot of experience with dogs,” Daichi comments as you head down the hallway with a spring in your step.  

You look over your shoulder at Daichi, flashing him a grin. “Just a bit. I’ve grown up with dogs all my life and have trained most of them myself.”

“Is that difficult?” 

Shrugging, you swing the door open and let Daichi enter the gated yard. It was a nice shaded grass area with a bunch of toys and even a bench for prospective adopters to sit down at and discuss their lifestyle with volunteers. “At first it was. But after a while, you get used to it.” You gaze fondly down at Daisuke. “It’s more difficult trying to get knuckle-head dogs to listen to you.” 

Daichi laughs - a deep baritone that warmed your heart, “I can only imagine. I used to run a volleyball team, and there were four strong-headed guys on the team that made it really difficult for me sometimes.”

Giggling, you nod. “That’s the worst.” Closing the door behind you, you release Daisuke’s leash. The lab just looks at you for a moment before you make a ‘shoo-ing’ gesture, giving him permission to run off. Daisuke darts to the toy bin, grabbing a plush duck. The lab sprints back, blinking up with puppy eyes at Daichi who chuckles. 

“How long have you been working here for?” Daichi takes the toy, throwing it for Daisuke who barks excitedly.

You hum, taking a seat. “Three years now. I started off as a volunteer and climbed the ranks.” 

“That’s a very long time. You must enjoy your work.”

“I do.” You cleared your throat as Daisuke trots back up to Daichi, trying to egg the male into a game of tug-of-war. “What about you? What brings you out here?” 

Daichi looks over at you as he’s tugged around by Daisuke. “Me?”

Chuckling, you nod. “Yeah you. You said you just moved here, right?” 

A soft glow warmed his cheeks. “Right!” He cleared his throat now, stumbling as Daisuke gave an extra hard tug. Daichi grunts, falling onto the ground. 

In an instant, you’re on your feet, making your way towards him. “Oh my god, are you ok?” Just as you reach him, Daisuke smashes into your legs causing you to fall forward with a yelp. You land awkwardly on top of Daichi, his hands falling onto your waist. “Oh sweet lord,” you mutter, your face inches from Daichi. Eyes widening, you try to scramble back to your feet only to slip on the duck toy and fall back on top of Daichi. As you guys stare at one another, he can’t help the laughter that overwhelms him. His laughter drives you into a fit of giggles, your bodies shaking with mirth.   

“I really like you.” You raise an eyebrow, and he swore as he realised what he just said. “I mean, I like Daisuke. I’ll take him.” 

Daichi helps you to your feet. You send the male an amusement smile before your eyes trail back down to fondly gaze at the dog beside you. “Aw, I’m glad you will. I’ll miss the big guy.” Daisuke wags his tail aggressively as he stares up at you both.

“Got any dogs of your own?”

You glance over at him. “Yeah, two.” 

“Wanna have a doggie-date?” He grins, scratching the back of his neck.

“Is this your way of saying you want to see me again, Daichi?” 

His eyes twinkled with amusement, “and if I say yes?”

“Sounds like fun. I’d love to.”

AN: ‘Daisuke’ means ‘great help’! 

general taglist: @scrappydaisies

Please feel free to send me an ask if you’d like to be a part of my general taglist 💞

[the1918]

(The actual ask reply got fucked up with the read more cut, so posting here!)

Alright, so.

Set the scene: Steve and Bucky pined like crazy but did not have an actualized relationship in the 40s. But it’s the 21st century now -- and Bucky has worked through enough of his issues post-Hydra recovery that he’s pretty stable, mentally -- and they’re still pining, still clueless idiots for each other. They touch and scent each other a lot more than average friends do, but that’s been the case with them since they were kids. Oh, and this pining is  e-x-t-r-a tropey because they share an apartment in Avengers Tower, because of course they do, and of course they were room mates omgggg.

Ok, now that we’ve set the scene, give me allllll the A/B/O tropes:

Steve Rogers is a virgin -- because of course he is, I’m exactly that self-indulgent

Steve Rogers is a virgin because he was too sickly before the serum to have heats (wasn’t promiscuous besides), was given suppressants by the army during the war, and after he woke up from the ice and started to have actual heats he never found an alpha he trusted enough to help him through it

Steve Rogers is a blushy as shit virgin

 But Bucky doesn’t know any of this.

And yes, in this ABO universe it is painful as shit for an omega to go through a heat alone, but Steve Rogers is nothing if not a stubborn idiot. I think Bucky just assumes that Steve probably found heat partners in the past. As much as Bucky wants it, the fact remains that he’s not Steve’s alpha, so even though the mental visual of another alpha touching Steve is too much for Bucky to handle, he tamps the thought down to be a good friend.

When this all starts to go down, I think that it probably takes Bucky a good bit longer than it should for him to pinpoint exactly why it is that Steve smells so different, so extra good--but in Bucky’s defense, he’s never actually smelled the scent of Steve in pre-heat before.

It’s probably not until Bucky notices his own behavior -- hovering around Steve, keeping an eye on him to make sure he’s eating plenty, taking mental stock of every alpha in every room that Steve walks into -- that Bucky finally puts two and two together and realizes that Steve is going into heat, soon. And then once Bucky does realize it, he probably tries to avoid being in tooclose proximity to Steve, especially as Steve gets closer to entering full heat. Bucky doesn’t want to overstep or make Steve uncomfortable.

But then one day, Bucky’s in their kitchen and Steve comes in, says he wants to ask him something. From the smell of him, Bucky gives Steve maybe 24 hours before he’s in full heat. He wonders if he should make himself scarce for a few days or if Steve is going to be the one to go, go find whatever heat partner he’s got and get fucked for a week straight, take another alpha’s knot one or two dozen times, and-- and Bucky has to put his coffee mug down before he crushes the ceramic handle to dust.

He maintains his cool, lets Steve talk. But Steve is nervous, nervous and blushy and adorable (trope!) like Bucky has never seen him before.

“Bucky, I…” Steve begins. He looks down nervously, and Bucky thinks that the way Steve’s lashes kiss against the flushed tops of his cheeks should be illegal.

Steve’s anxious, a lot; he can’t quite meet Bucky’s eyes. Bucky doesn’t like things that make Steve anxious.

“What is it, Stevie?”

Steve finally gets to talking but he stutters, is flustered. “I was wondering if—and it’s okay if you don’t want to! I know everything must still be really weird for you, and—”

Bucky can’t stop himself from reaching a hand out and cupping the side of Steve’s neck like he does sometimes, wrist against Steve’s scent gland.

“It’s okay, Stevie. Just tell me, you can tell me. Ask what you wanna ask.”

Steve lets out a shaky breath and visibly steels himself, anxious, still, but brave enough to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“I wanted to know if you might wanna, um.” His bottom lip is so damn pink where he’s biting down on it. “If you might wanna help me through my heat?” And it’s mumbled and fast but Bucky can hear every word--even though he can’t believe a damn one of them.

Bucky’s awestruck but he’s gotta say something, can’t leave Stevie hanging.

“Stevie, oh, you... fuck, you perfect little doll.” Not something he’s called his friend before. He brushes Steve’s smooth jawline with one thumb and looks at the omega with such fondness that it makes the room feel a little sticky. “Of course I do.”

And a surprised smile lights up Steve’s face, like he wasn’t expecting Bucky to actually say yes. Bucky can’t stop talking.

“Of course I want that. I’m so happy you asked, baby.” Another endearment he’s never used for Steve.

But Bucky needs to know some things, too. Information

“You’re sure about this, Stevie? Why me?” And he doesn’t wanna ask this next, but he’s gotta. “Where’s the alpha—alphas, whoever—that usually stay with you?”

“What?” Steve looks genuinely confused for a moment before he gets it, understands what Bucky means, and the blush that covers his face looks like it must extend far below the neckline of his thin t-shirt. “Oh! Um, no, there was no…”

And then as Steve trails off his eyes get all wide like he’s just realized something, and he looks even more nervous than before. He’s breathing harder, and the anxiety in his scent is back. He shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispers. He diverts his eyes and makes his whole body smaller.

“Sorry?” Bucky repeats, “why? What you got to be sorry about, baby?”

The endearment slips out again but it does something to the omega this time, makes his eyelashes flutter and his anxious scent mellow a bit. Still, Steve’s nervous; he can’t quite meet Bucky’s eyes.

Again, Bucky does not like things that make Steve nervous, and he gives into the protective urge to crowd Steve in against the kitchen island with his body, hands on either side of him, holding onto the countertops. Steve lets out a little whine that Bucky’s not prepared for, and his hips press into Steve’s before he can stop them.

It’s not actually sexual; Bucky’s just pinning him, keeping him grounded. But still, Steve moans a little, tries to breathe through it.

“I—I’ve always… just.”

And that’s when it clicks with Bucky, that Steve has always toughed out his heats alone.

Steve might be a virgin, he realizes, and he’s asking Bucky to fuck him. Bucky might get to be the very first person to fuck Steve (and the very last, if Bucky had his way). The thought alone makes Bucky want to groan and grind into Steve right there in the kitchen but he keeps it contained, keeps his focus on what Steve needs from him right now.

And besides, it’s just a hunch. Bucky needs to hear it, needs to confirm some things with Steve first and hear Steve really say it.

“Stevie, tell me you want this with me. With me. Don’t say it if it isn’t completely true.”

Steve’s demeanor gets a little frantic at the question. “Yes—yes, Buck. I want it. So much. Please.” And Bucky has to stroke his sides to calm his nerves.

“Okay, thank you. I want it, too. I’m so happy you asked, sweetheart.” Another sweet name, and Bucky just can’t seem to hold them in anymore. “But I’m going to ask you a question, and I need you to be honest with me. No matter what you answer, I promise that I’ll still want to do this.”

Steve looks wary and still nervous but also a little curious, nods.

“Has anyone ever taken you before?”

[ Author interlude: “Taken you” -- not “fucked you”, not “knotted you,” even, yet. Bucky would say it like that because it’s an older way of phrasing it, more polite, something people would have said in the 40s before you could say things like ‘pregnant’ or ‘knot’ on television. ]

Steve’s face is on fire. He shakes his head. ‘No’.

Bucky wants to be a good alpha, needs to keep his omega calm, but it takes everything he’s got to keep his visceral reaction to Steve’s admission contained inside:

Because all Bucky can’t stop imagining how damn pretty Steve is going to look all spread across the sheets, all spread out in the nest that Bucky is definitely about to go build for him

Because Bucky can’t stop planning out how he’s going to take Steve the first time while he’s got Steve’s on his back, looking up at Bucky the first time Bucky makes love to him. Bucky wants to gauge every little expression on Steve’s face when he’s getting fucked, wants memorize every detail about the way Steve looks the first time he takes a knot-- takes Bucky’s knot

Because Bucky can’t stop thinking about all the many and varied ways he’s going to make Steve wail with pleasure, how many times he’s going to fuck the come out of him before the week is over

Because Bucky’s got plans but he’s also got an overwhelming number of lizard brain thoughts--ProtectFuckFeedScentMateBreedBiteKeep

But Bucky keeps it all inside as much as he can because Steve looks anxious about his confession, and that just won’t do.

“Sweetheart.” Bucky leans in even more and presses his forehead against Steve’s, and their lips are a ghost of breath away from touching but he still hasn’t kissed Steve, yet. “Sweeter than sugar, you are.”

Steve brightens at the praise, smiles shyly (trope!). “That-- that’s okay?” he asks, “that I haven’t done this before?”

“Okay?” Bucky repeats. “It’s more than okay, baby. So amazing, saving yourself for me.”

And then Bucky finally closes the gap between their lips. It’s closed-mouth and chaste and both of their lips are the barest bit chapped, but it’s Bucky’s silent promise to Steve, Bucky’s promise that he’s going to be good to him and careful with him but he’s going to give Steve what Steve needs and fuck him silly; fuck him tender.

Bucky’s going to do everything he can to warrant the amount of trust Steve has already given to him.

Other heat thoughts:

Biting/Bonding: They’re not technically a ‘couple’, with the words, but neither one of them has any doubts that this is not something casual, not just a friend helping a friend. They don’t have to say it out loud; Steve is Bucky’s, and Bucky is Steve’s. But Bucky wouldn’t bite him this first time, because that’s a big deal even for ‘Till the End of the Line’ couples, and he wants it but he’d want to wait until Steve’s heat is over to have a clear-headed conversation.

Birth Control: Steve probably gets that sorted out with whatever Avengers medical establishment there is. He does it almost as soon as Bucky agrees to spend the heat together, because as hormone-addled as he is in pre-heat (as much as his lizard brain absolutely wants him to get bred up with Bucky’s babies), he knows that Bucky’s still got some issues to sort through and he’s not ready to be a father, but also, fuck: the thought of Bucky having to wear a condom, of not filling Steve up with every drop that he’s got, is practically painful.

Woosh... that’s a lot of thoughts. @glide-thru thank you for the idea, hope you liked this!

My Masterlist [x]

UPDATE 5/12/20 - This is a fic now!!! [x]

[7to3sorcerer]

Of Waltzes and Sugar Plum Fairies

rating: explicit hehe

word count: 11.5k i am so sorry

warnings: fluff! angst! daddy!kink if you squint, loss of virginity, uhhhh sexy times? porn WITH plot because i can. this is truly filthy and totally self indulgent, enjoy at your own risk.

a/n: ok so first fic on here, yay! also, i recommend visiting this page to give you some context about Arkanians if you don’t know about them. idk if the nutcracker exists in star wars, so just go with it. listen to this if you wanna get immersed in the sounds of the dance scene.

ao3 link here

-

Din Djarin knew exactly what he was doing bringing her to Chandrila in the winter.

His princess - a literal one at that - from Arkanis, had missed the taste of home. Not in so many words, but he could tell by the wistful look on her face whenever they passed a shop with dancing gear or a music store.

He also knew that Life Day was her favorite holiday.

“It’s perfect,” she had said one day in the cockpit, her eyes starry as she watched the planets fly by. “You just spend the day with your family, dancing and eating and celebrating. Some cultures even give presents.”

He didn’t know what to say to that then, just gave a grunt and kept his eyes on the nav chart.

But since that day, he’s thought of what that would be like, spending a Life Day with his foundling and his crewmate who he wished would be so much more.

Ever since she dropped everything and ran off with him and the child, his life has been so much...brighter. Full of color when she skips around the ship, the child in her arms as they play dress up with her seemingly endless wardrobe (Din still doesn’t how she manages to keep her quarters clean). It’s full of sound when she plays her holorecords from her favorite ballets, the child following behind her as she does allégros and arabesques.

When she agreed to join his crew to take care of the child and give her extensive knowledge of cultures and history that she gleaned from university, he also made a pact: he would give her firsthand experiences of the galaxy that her life as a royal had robbed her of. 

Her first wish was to visit a cantina, a wish that was fulfilled within her first three days aboard the Razor Crest. Though the dingy, thin clothes she bought from a merchant blended her in well, her stark white hair, white eyes, and ethereal beauty caused a bar fight, one that may or may not have ended with Din breaking a man’s arm, simply because he looked at her suggestively.

In the year that she’d been traveling with him, he’d tried to accommodate her wishes as best as he could, but with the Empire constantly on their trail, their time had mostly been devoted to tracking down the child’s people. But it seemed that the galaxy was on his side for once.

Life Day was rapidly approaching, and Din was scrambling to try and make it special for her, and with the information that Bo-Katan had given them about Ahsoka Tano, Din was torn about what to do. That was, until he charted a path to Corvus and realized it sent them right by Chandrila - the dance capital of the galaxy. A couple of holonet searches later, and he found a showing of The Nutcracker.

He knew it’d make his princess happy, he just didn’t know how to tell her that there weren’t anymore tickets left. He wasn’t surprised really, after all, it was already Life Day Eve, and he knew The Nutcracker was wildly popular, even though it was a Wookiee ballet that was centuries old.

The rapid beeping of the proximity indicator dragged him out of his thoughts. He disengaged and the ship lurched into real time, the blue streaks of stars fading into black mottled with blinking white. He made up his mind in that moment. Squaring his shoulders, Din set the ship on autopilot and made his way down to the cargo hold.

Stopping in front of her room, he could hear giggles and her soft voice as she spoke to the child.

“...and then he transforms into a handsome prince, and leads Masha away into the forest!”

He hears the child giggle again, and can only assume they’re playing with the wooden toys she had crafted once while bored when Din was on a hunt.

Steeling himself, Din knocks.

“Hey, we’re landing...put on something...nice,” he says through the door. He moves to return to the cockpit when the door whooshes open, revealing the princess’s glowing smile.

“Why?” She asks, her eyes wide.

His hand itches to brush the wisps of hair that got displaced from her bun when the door opened.

“I um, I have a surprise,” he says tentatively, suddenly feeling unsure of himself. He shifts his weight as she turns to the child.

“You hear that? Daddy has a surprise for us!” She coos, sweeping him up into her arms as he laughs. She turns back to Din.

His stomach does flips hearing that word come out of her mouth, no matter how innocent the context.

“Well, what is it?”

“That kind of ruins the point of the surprise, don’t you think?” He says, a hint of humor in his modulated voice. He finally gives in to his urges and gently tucks he hair behind her slightly pointed ear.

Din’s heart feels as though it might burst out of his chestplate as she tries to hide her blush behind the baby’s ear, playing it off as though she’s giving him kisses. She hums before looking back up at Din.

“Okay, well what should I wear?”

“I don’t know, something nice.” It comes out a little rough, and Din mentally kicks himself, seeing her face turn into a slight frown.

“Din, I’m a...” she pauses, covering the child’s ears before continuing. “I’m a fucking princess, Din. You can’t just say ‘wear something nice’ expect me to know exactly what you mean by that.”

He huffs. “Move.”

She complies, and he enters her small quarters, stepping over the various toys that litter the floor. He opens her closet, running his gloved fingers along the plethora of lush fabrics inside.

Life Day, Life Day, Life Day, he thinks to himself. What colors go with Life Day?

He pauses on a silky green gown, thinking about how good it would contrast with her skin tone. He hesitates a moment before removing it from the hanger and holding it out to her.

“Here.”

She sets the child down before taking it from him and examining it, a slightly confused look on her face. 

“Din, this is...this is one of my nicer ones. Are we doing something quite fancy?”

He says nothing for a moment, watching the way her milky eyes scan the dress before deciding on his answer.

“I just think...that it’ll look good on you,” he says, so quietly that the modulator barely picks it up.

Her head shoots up to stare him straight in the visor, the very faint grey of her irises making her expression unreadable. Everyone likes to think he’s intimidating, but they’ve obviously never never made eye contact with an Arkanian. Arkanians that belong to the oldest bloodlines have pure white eyes, but if you catch them in the right light, you can barely make out grey irises and darker grey pupils.

Experiencing second thoughts, Din quickly exits her room without another word and the door whooshes shut again.

He leans on the wall next to the ladder leading up to the cockpit feeling like he’s just run a marathon. His heart races as he begins to worry that he was too forward.

“Fuck...” he mutters, leaning his head on the wall behind him. “Too late now I guess.”

Sitting back down in the cockpit, he guides the Crest into the docking bay that air traffic control instructed him to, and sets the ship down as gently as possible, not wanting to disturb anything the princess may be doing to get ready.

If she’s even getting ready at all, his conscious supplies. She’s probably gonna bolt as soon as the cabin depressurizes. 

But as he descends back into the hold, he’s pleased to hear her puttering around in her room. He checks the time on his chrono.

“Hey, I’m going out for a few. I should be back in a bit...make sure you’re ready by then, okay?” He calls out, holstering his gun and attaching his jet pack.

Something in her room clatters to the floor, causing her so let out a string of curses. He hears her give the child an apology, who just giggles in return before he himself gets a response.

“Yeah! Sure, sure, yeah I’ll be ready!” She says from behind the door, but her voice is unsteady, like she knows she won’t be ready in time.

Din just huffs out a slight laugh before exiting the ship.

...

He returns to find her heels click clacking back and forth between the ‘fresher and where the child sits perched on a box, wiping his face down with a rag and the spots of food on his clothes. She turns to Din, who stands just inside the ship, a dumbfounded look on his hidden face.

Her hair is in a low, loose bun with a few pieces of hair framing her face that he can only assume came out while she was getting the child ready. The matte maroon lipstick she wears gives the allusion that she’s much older than 23, but the subtle blush and highlight adorning her cheeks and nose do well to bring back her youthfulness.

“I tried to get him cleaned up as best as I could. I also fashioned this little hat to fit his head as best I could. I don’t want him to be spotted, and I know it’s cold out there,” she rushes out breathlessly, running back into her room and grabbing the beanie and smushing it on the child’s head. “I know it’s not perfect, but I just want us to be able to have one night where we’re not constantly looking over our shoulders.”

She runs back into her room and returns with a small scarf, wrapping it around the child’s neck. Din wants to reassure her that everything’s okay, but he’s speechless, admiring the way the silk hangs on her body, accentuating her curves. His eyes are first drawn to the slit that exposes her leg almost to her hip when she bends down to pick up a toy the child dropped.

She speaks again, but he still can’t answer. He’s transfixed by the way the neckline plunges down her sternum, just shy of where her ribs start. Her tits are unbound, supported by the fabric that stretches up and over her shoulders, turning into yards of thinner fabric that cinch the dress up across her back.  The straps criss cross her exposed back and end in a bow just below the dimples of her lower back, highlighting the expanse of tight muscles that she’s earned in her tenure as a crewmate, and from her earlier days as a dancer.

He watches as that enticing triangle of missing fabric on her chest gets closer and closer until it’s right in front of him.

“Hey, laser brain! Are you listening to me?” She says, waving her hand in front of his visor and snapping him out of his trance.

“What?” He asks, his voice cracking and making it sound like he hasn’t had anything to drink in days.

She huffs, before saying “I was asking if you were ready to go.”

“Oh,” he coughs out. “Y-yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

“Are we taking the pod, or just carrying him?” She asks, holding the child on her hip.

He thinks a moment before saying “The pod.”

The princess sets him in his pod before slipping on a long black coat and following Din out of the ship. They head out into the busy streets, the child floating in between the two of them.

“Soooooo,” she drawls out, clasping her hands and giving Din doe eyes. “Where are we headed?”

“Uh uh,” he tuts. “Don’t even try that on me. That’s cheating.”

“Why?” She asks, jutting her lip out. “Because it works every time?”

“Yes,” he sighs. “Because it does work every time.”

She just hmphs and says nothing else as they walk along the sidewalks dusted with a light covering of snow. The streetlamps above cast an orangey-yellow glow on the pedestrians that pass them, many of them carrying parcels covered in paper, or large sacks filled with delicious smelling food.

The child makes grabby hands at some of them and the princess chuckles. Din glances over at her and sees the corners of her eyes crinkle as she laughs. They make eye contact for a brief moment before she looks at something above his head and her eyes go wide.

Din flinches, looking up for the threat, but all he sees is snowflakes beginning to fall from the sky. He looks back down at the princess and watches her stick out her tongue to catch a snowflake. They make eye contact again, but this time, she doesn’t look away. She keeps her tongue out until a small fleck of snow lands on it, then she pulls it back into her mouth. She throws him a sideways grin and then looks away, facing her eyes forward.

Din feels his hands get clammy as blood starts to flow south. Fuck, nononononononono, he thinks, balling his hands into fists and trying to think of literally anything else besides they way that snow looked on her tongue. He grits his teeth and looks around, hoping they’re close to the theatre. Thank the Maker.

Just ahead across the street sits the theatre, its twinkling lights and marquee sign dazzling in the white snow. He peeks at the princess without turning his head, and comes away satisfied when she doesn’t seem to notice it yet. He quickly grabs her elbow and pulls her into an alleyway on their right, covering her mouth with his gloved hand when she lets out a yelp.

“Do you trust me?” He breathes out, his chest mere inches away from hers. She nods her head and he lets go of her mouth. He looks down and presses some buttons on his vambrace, quickly recalibrating the child’s pod before shutting its hatch. “Hold onto me.”

She arches her eyebrows before stepping forward and pressing her chest against his, hissing at the frigidness of his beskar against her clavicle. She wraps her arms around his neck as he hooks an arm just below her ass.

“Din...” she warns, not sure where this is going.

“Just be quiet and hang on.” He commands, and with that, they shoot up and into the sky, the baby’s pod going up with them. He feels the princess bury her face into his cape and groan. In his excitement about the surprise, he forgot she doesn’t care for heights.

They land on the rooftop of the theatre, his knees and his back protesting from the extra weight that he’s not used to. Din gently sets the princess down and opens the child’s pod to make sure he’s okay. He smiles up at Din, who waggles a finger in his face.

The princess still hasn’t let go of Din, and Din still hasn’t entirely let go of the princess.

“Hey,” he says softly, and she pulls her head back from his shoulder but keeps her eyes squeezed shut. “It’s okay, we’re done with the flying.”

She exhales a breath he didn’t know she was holding and lets go, opening her eyes. Din reluctantly lets go of her and she takes a step back, looking at their surroundings. The faint sound of instruments taking their final warmups can be heard through the duracrete below them, and the princess finally puts two and two together.

“Din,” she gasps, shaking her head and covering her mouth with her hands. “You didn’t...that’s like, impossible. These are impossible to get. There’s no way...”

He grimaces behind his helmet and sighs. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I couldn’t. But I came by earlier and figured out another way for us to get insi-oof.”

He’s cut off when the princess envelops him in a hug so tight, he feels his back creak in objection.

“I thought you forgot a-about Life Day,” she says into his neck. “You didn’t have to do all this. N-no one’s ever-”

This time, it’s his turn to cut her off. He gently pulls her back until he can see her face, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“You can thank me later...it’s cold out here, and we don’t wanna miss the show.”

She nods and sniffles, dabbing under her eyes and motioning to the roof access. “Lead the way then, captain.” She says with a blinding smile.

A wall of warmth greets them as Din slices the door open. He glances around to make sure no crew members are up this high before motioning the princess in. The door zips shut behind the three of them and they’re sheathed in darkness, save the warm glow coming from the theatre below them. Catwalks stretch out in either direction, one going across the crowd, the other going adjacent to it toward the stage. They have to be at least 20 meters above the crowd.

The princess rushes toward the railing on the catwalk above the crowd and peaks down and Din finds himself surprised she’s not fainted yet. She answers his question before he asks it.

“This, I’m fine with. What I’m not fine with is careening up 100 feet into the air and 60 miles an hour with no warning and no seatbelt,” she says, fixing him with a glare that could cut durasteel.

This time, he doesn’t hide his chuckle, moving to stand next to her as she removes her coat and drapes it over the guardrail. He leans against the railing, the child floating just to his left, the princess on his right.

“You’re sure no one will see us up here?” She asks, lowering her voice as the lights begin to dim and the music starts.

“Would you be looking up to the rafters during this show?” 

“Fair point, but I meant the dancers...”

“No, I think we’ll be fine, it’s dark up here.” 

She just nods in return and keeps her focus on the stage as the curtains draw up and reveal the setting of Act I.

Din looks down at the child whose eyes light up at the glimmering tree on the stage. Underneath it sit huge presents wrapped in patterns of paper that Din couldn’t even think up. Multicolored garland hangs from the windows on the backdrop. Fairy lights dangle from the ceiling, bathing the stage in a magical light. He sees the children on stage laughing with each other as their parents dance to the music and suddenly feels the urge to cry,

His heart sinks at the thought that he could’ve had all this if the Separatists hadn’t invaded Aq Vetina that fateful day - and maybe he did have all of this, he just doesn’t remember. Did he have brothers and sisters? He hardly even remembers what his parents look like, just blurry features, sad eyes as they locked him away in that cellar to save him. What did he used ask for for Life Day? Did his parents dance with each other like that? 

Resentment burns so hot inside of him that he has to tear his eyes away from the ballet and stare down at the crowd below. He grits his teeth and wills the tears threating to fall away. His bitterness flares briefly toward the princess as he catches the gleam in her eyes, the joy on her face as she looks on with glee as the act progresses. But it fades as quickly as it grew, his features softening under his helmet.

Who am I to be spiteful toward her for something I had no control over?

He looks down at the stage again, having not even noticed that Act II began. The music crescendos as the Nutcracker, having just turned into the Prince, begins to dance with Masha. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the chlid giggle in delight.

Just because I don’t have happy memories of my parents, doesn’t mean he can’t. Woah shit wait fuck. No, Din, shut the fuck up and don’t overthink the weight of that. 

Carefully, Din removes both of his gloves and tucks them into his belt before gently resting his hand on the princess’s lower back.

He feels her gasp before she melts into his touch. She looks over her shoulder at him, the light from below causing her features to look sharp and dangerously beautiful. He leans forward so that his helmet is right next to her ear.

“Show me how you’d dance...if that were you on that stage down there,” he whispers, and this time the modulator doesn’t pick it up, so all she hears is his raw, unfiltered voice.

The princess looks up at his visor and smiles before nodding enthusiastically and backing away. She leans down and ties her dress in a knot at her knees before unbuckling her heels.

Din finds himself thinking that she wanted this all along, that she was made for this. His little wild fairy, stripping herself of the titles and the pageantry, barefooted and relaxed with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.   

She hasn’t taught him much, but he’s tried to listen as best as he could when she’d be doing a routine on the ship.

That’s a pirouette...I think. Okay, okay, plié. That’s first position? No...? Okay, yes, that was first position because this is second position, and now she’s in third.

Din finds himself swaying back and forth and nodding his head to the sweeping instrumentals, and the princess seems to smile when she notices this. She completes an attitude devant before slowing and giggling at him.

“What?” He asks, not quite laughing, but the smile in his voice is evident.

She just shakes her head, her own brilliant smile still plastered on her face before holding out her hand.

“Come on...look, he wants you to,” she says, pointing at the child who has long forgotten the ballet below, instead focusing on the ballerina in front of him.

Din watches the child for a moment more before pushing himself off the railing and taking her outstretched hand. He would be lying if he said this wasn’t the outcome he was hoping for, but when she pulls him into position, he realizes he’s in way over his head. 

“I...I really don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing...” he murmurs, trailing off when she places his hand on her waist, his fingertips meeting the bare skin of her back. She grabs his other hand and holds it up at a 90° angle and it completely swallows her own. He watches her eye their conjoined hands for a moment, an almost awestruck look on her face.

“I’ve never...I’ve never touched you before,” she whispers, looking into his visor where his eyes are. “Like this at least. Your skin.”

He leans in closer to her before whispering “Would you like this to be the last time?”

She slowly shakes her head, keeping her eyes trained on his visor.

“Me neither,” he breathes out. “Now show me what to do.”

She inhales as if falling out of a haze. Clearing her throat, she adjusts Din’s legs by tapping them with her feet before getting into her own position.

“Okay, now I’m not going to tell you it’s simple but you are a fast learner, so I expect you to excel, unless you have two left feet,” she chuckles, straightening her back. “But I’ve seen you in a fight, and fighting and dancing are actually more similar than you’d think. Just like in fighting, if you’re not doing a practiced routine, you have to predict your partner’s moves, and for you, this isn’t a routine.”

“Mmm, cocky are we?” He teases, her reassurance easing a bit of his tension.

“For good reason,” she purrs, giving him a smirk. He doesn’t have time for a smartass reply because she’s already moved on. “Now, the music should be at a good tempo for us to start at any moment if I remember correctly. We’ll take it slow, just remember, feel me, okay? Anticipate my movements, and you’ll be fine. Nothing fancy for now until you get the footwork down.”

She taps her foot and looks out over the balcony, and Din swears he can see the notes swimming in her brain. He notices that in this light, he can see her irises better than he ever has before. But again, before he can complete the thought, she begins moving.

He follows her feet, feeling the way her muscles tense and flex underneath the tips of his fingers. Her eyes move back to his visor from their position over his shoulder and it’s like it clicks for him. If he weren’t going to sound crazy, he’d say it was like she transferred her consciousness to his.

They glide together like that across the catwalk, the child’s giggles following them as the pod, still connected to his vambrace, moves with them. The princess moves to twirl them around and Din’s foot catches a little, but he quickly corrects himself, getting back into step with her. 

She suppresses a laugh before asking “Ready to step it up a notch?”

He just nods and she - seemingly reluctantly - lets go of her grip on his hand and twists so that her back is facing his chest. He readjusts so his grip is on her opposite hip, and she guides him to take her other hand.

“Same steps as before...yeah, good job,” she instructs, and it kindles a fire in his stomach that he thought he had quelled about an hour previous. “Okay, when I tell you to, keep stepping but lift me as you do a 180°, got it?”

His heart stutters, mostly out of fear of his poor, abused back. At 37, he shouldn’t be groaning every time he gets out of bed. But when he glances over at the kid, who is excitedly clapping his hands, he decides he’ll do it.

“Sure, but you’re gonna have to give me a few bacta patches on my shoulders later,” he says, slight amusement in his voice.

“I’ll do whatever you want...now!”

He falters for a moment, his brain short-circuiting like a C-1 series astromech before he realizes she means the lift is now, not...everything else that he wants. She pushes off of her right foot and he lifts her into the air, spinning counter clockwise before setting her down just as the music crescendos and finishes with a loud clash of cymbals and flutes.

They’re both breathing heavily as she turns in his arms to face him, and neither one of them go to move away. The tension is palpable at this point, with Din wanting to just bend her over and take her right there. His helmet tilts down to where her chest heaves and he swears he can see her heart beat in the pulse point on her neck. The thought of sinking his teeth into it and marking up her skin is suddenly overwhelming.

It’s only when the child squeals in delight that they’re snapped back to reality.

“I...I think we should go,” he says, catching his breath and tightening his grip on her waist. “Y’know, because the show’s over and crewmembers are gonna be up here any minute.”

She nods.

“Do you wanna take the elevator this time?” He asks her, hesitantly removing his grasp on her.

Again she shakes her head. “No,” she says hastily, donning her coat and looking like a ball of nervous energy. “Just do whatever gets us to the ship faster.”

They exit the way they came in, the princess clinging to Din, but he notices she’s not nearly as stiff as she was on the short flight up. They land near the same alleyway as before. The princess immediately exits the alley, setting course for the ship as Din struggles to keep up with her brisk pace.

“Hey,” he says, grabbing her arm. “You okay?”

She huffs air out of her nose before crossing her arms and shifting her weight. The snow has picked up since they entered the theatre, big enough now to cling to her hair and eyelashes. He watches as she leans over and snaps the child’s pod shut.

“I don’t know how to say this...” she begins, and Din’s heart sinks.

Dank farrik, I’ve gone and fucked this up, he thinks, his thoughts so loud that he only catches onto the last part of her sentence.

“...a virgin because of tradition on Arkanis, but I’ve wanted you to fuck me on every surface of the Crest since you asked me to join you. And I know this is forward, and maybe too brash, but I can’t stand it anymore and I just think that...I think I lo-”

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. I...” he licks his lips under his helmet and lets his brain catch up. “You want to...you want to have sex with me?”

She fixes him with a look that says “duh, weren’t you listening, dumbass?”

He sighs before responding. “Okay, look, I want this too, I have since the first time Karga, Dune, and I saw you at that library on Coruscant. But listen, if you’re...if you’re a virgin, then this is something I don’t want you to just decide to do on a whim, you understand me? That’s something that should be done with s-someone you care about.”

“Is that how your first time went?” She questions, narrowing her eyes. It’s a low blow because he revealed the answer to her one night while they were both drinking up in the cockpit. In this light, he can’t see her irises at all, and it’s extremely intimidating.

“I, well, no, but you’re missing the point-”

“Am I? I care about you, Din. Do you care about me?”

There’s no trepidation in his voice when he answers this time. “Yes.”

“Then what’s the holdup, hm?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you!” He shouts, earning furtive glances from the few last minute shoppers out and about. He sighs. “I’m not a prince, okay? I’m not some nutcracker that turns into a handsome prince and runs away with you into the forest. I’m not what you were taught to look for in your happily ever after. I’m not supposed to be your forever. I’m not even supposed to be the kid’s forever...”

The princess glares at the sky, clenching her jaw, and Din can tell from past experiences with the cauterizer that she’s trying not to cry.

“And don’t even try to tell me that it’s not about that. I know you. You crave connection, you feed off of it. You just deserve someone better than me. After I find his people, I’m gonna go back to the only thing I was ever any good at: killing.”

She sniffles and he suddenly, selfishly wishes he hadn’t been honest with her. That he would’ve just lied and whisked her back into the ship so he could fuck her every day until he inevitably broke her heart.

She looks back down, and the placid look on her face terrifies him more than the thought of someone ripping his helmet off (though his faith in the Creed is becoming increasingly shaky). She just sets her jaw and nods, turning on her heel and getting back to her brisk pace from before. It’s then that Din realizes he’s turned the sexual tension into the need for a nasty, ugly fight, having denied his feelings for so long that he’s used to feeling anger and frustration after a close encounter with her.

“Since when are you one to run away like a Corellian hellhound with your tail tucked between your legs, huh?” He says, grabbing her elbow again once he’s caught up with her.

She yanks her arm out of his grip and faces him with a scowl on her face. “Since you decided you were so unlovable, that’s when. You think you’re this horrific, terrible person. Well, Din, I’ve got news for you; plenty of people all over this galaxy do what you do for a living, and then go home and eat dinner with their partners and kids. It’s you,” she says, jabbing a finger into his chest. “That has decided you’re so unlovable. Not this galaxy, not your profession, you. You can’t even call your son yours because you’re so afraid of what? Commitment? Someone giving a damn? And guess what? Even more bad news; you’ve failed so fucking miserably at that, because he loves you. You’re his father, Din, and he loves you. I love you. And you’re not doing yourself any favors by ignoring those two blatantly obvious facts.”

The unshed tears in her eyes start to fall and Din wants to rip his helmet off right there and kiss them off her face, but he doesn’t even know what to say except that she’s right. She’s exactly right and oh, Maker, he’s a dumbass.

“To have you sit here and say that you even might possibly feel the same way about me but in the same breath say that you’re afraid of breaking my heart is...well it’s fucking stupid!” She exclaims, tossing her hands up in the air. “I’d be stupid not to love you, I would know, I literally have three degrees, Din. You risked your life to save your son, you’ve risked your life to save me, Karga, and Dune on multiple occasions. You’re trekking halfway across the galaxy to find some fabled wizard, all for your kid to be reunited with his people. You are one of the most selfless people I’ve ever met, and the only person you’re convincing that you’re some bad guy is you. You’re the good guy...that much is true.”

“I’ve done...I’ve done bad things, sweetheart. I can’t even begin to name them all...” he mutters, looking over at the child’s closed bassinet.

“Okay? We all have. My parents were grooming me to be a politician for fucks sake. What could possibly be worse than that?”

She turns and walks away then again, while he sits there staring at her before his brain, reliable as ever, finally does the mental math. “Oh, Maker, I insulted you, didn’t I?” He calls out.

“Yes!” She barks without turning around, stomping through the snow that builds up on the sidewalk. “If you got me a present for Life Day, I’ll consider it forgiven. Come on, it’s cold, we can talk in the ship...after you’ve fixed that.”

Things Din Djarin needs to stop forgetting: 1) don’t ever insult an Arkanian, or you’ll spend your whole life savings trying to get back in their good graces.

...

They don’t speak a word until they get back to the ship, and even then, words spoken aren’t to each other, only the child. The princess gets him fed and tucked in for the night before disappearing into the ‘fresher. Din fiddles around, unsure if he wants to keep going on their journey or stay on Chandrila for the night. Eventually, he decides to keep going, knowing that the temperatures will drop too much overnight on Chandrila to keep the engine off.

He hears her emerge from the ‘fresher just as the ship lurches into hyperspace, and he reaches over and grabs a parcel from underneath the control panel before heading down into the hold. He gets a strange sense of déja vu, except this time, he knows where he stands.

She’s in her quarters, but the door isn’t shut, so he takes that as an invitation to enter. He sits on her bed, watching her wrestle a chunky knit sweater over her wet hair.

“That’s more like it,” he says, and she turns to face him, a quizzical look on her face. She spots the parcel in his hands, but says nothing of it, just looks at him expectantly. “Your look, I mean. You looked, incredible tonight, but this feels more authentic, more you. You look freer.”

She just nods and bends down to slip on some socks. He holds the parcel out to her when she’s finished and she takes it without a word, sitting down next to him and unwrapping it.

The paper reveals a box. Even though her irritation at his earlier behavior rolls off of her in waves, he can almost feel her excitement piquing.

She opens the box to reveal a pair of pointe shoes in a blush pink color, delicately wrapped in red and green paper.

“...does this make up for me being a fucking idiot?”

She holds the shoes up to the light to inspect them, a revered look upon her face.

“I...I don’t even know what to say.” She whispers.

“Well, you could start with ‘thanks’.” He says, which earns him a light punch on his pauldron. 

“I hope you know it’s customary to give the present on Life Day, not the night before, so don’t think this means you get yours tonight. But how did you know?” She asks, finally turning to look at him.

“Well you only drool all over the sidewalk every time we pass a store that sells them, so I picked some up a few rotations ago when we stopped to fuel up.” He answers softly.

She smiles bashfully and tucks her hands into her lap, suddenly finding a spot on the floor very interesting. Din gently takes her chin in between his pointer finger and thumb, guiding her to look at him again.

“I’m sorry...for everything I said. I’m not used to this, any of it. I didn’t mean to insult you in anyway, but you understand that you and I come from completely different worlds, different realities...” he trails off, trying to find the right words to say. “The truth is...I’m scared, terrified of you leaving me. Everyone I’ve ever loved has...has, well, left. I know the kid is gonna have to leave at some point...I don’t want you to, too.

“After we left Nevarro, before we came here, I wanted nothing more than to take off my helmet and tell you...tell you how I love you face to face, and I’ve wanted to do it so many times tonight, but I don’t think I’m ready yet...to take off the helmet, that is. I-I don’t want you to think less of me for that, but I do love you.”

The princess, his princess, cocks her head to the side.

“I knew what I was signing up for, silly. I never expected you to take it off in front of me, not now and maybe not ever. That doesn’t make it any less meaningful.” She tells him with a smile, resting her hand where his cheek would be. “Even though I would really like to kiss you right now.”

“Well, that I can make an exception for.” He says, and removes his hand from her chin, moving it to the lip of his helmet and pulling up slightly.

He knows she’s staring at his bronzed skin and three day old stubble when he says “Well, kiss me then.”

It’s awkward at first when their lips meet, the angle of the helmet meaning that she has to tilt her head almost sideways to avoid a large gash on her nose from the sharp edge, but after a second or two, it’s like magic. They move in sync, chapped lips moving against perfectly moisturized ones. After a moment, Din takes the lead and deepens the kiss, keeping one hand on the helmet and moving the other to the back of her neck. He tentatively pushes his tongue into her mouth, but his eyes almost pop out of their sockets when she starts to suck on it. He groans and she moves her hands up to the sides of his neck.

“How’d you get so good at this?” He asks as they both pause to take a breath.

“Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I wasn’t a horny teenager once. I spent plenty of summers at the Young Senators Retreat and-”

“Yeah, okay I get the picture,” Din huffs.

She laughs a full bellied laugh, the kind that crinkles the skin around her eyes and shows her teeth.

“Aw, is someone jealous?” She teases, poking the sliver of his cheek that was revealed to her.

He slips the helmet down and moves to stand up, and she does the same.

“Wait I didn’t mean to-”

“Sit down. I’ll be right back.”

He exits her room and takes a deep breath. He’s wanted this for so long, to be touched by another...to touch another. To touch her.

He returns moments later with a strip of thick black cloth in his hand and shuts the door behind him.

“As much as I want to see the look in your eyes when I make you come, I’d much rather be able to see the pretty little expressions you make when I eat you out.” He says moving to kneel on the edge of the bed. Her mouth drops into an “o” shape, her face flushing as bright red as it possibly can.

She clears her throat as he ties the cloth around her head, sheathing her in darkness. “You’re, um, good at complimenting.”

He laughs darkly, removing his helmet all the way and setting it on the floor at the foot of the bed before placing his lips next to her ear. “I think you mean dirty talk, angel.”

If it was possible for her to flush anymore, she would’ve, he thinks. He suddenly stops when a thought flashes across his mind that maybe she’s just doing this because he wants to.

“Hey, is this okay? I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with or not ready for, so if you want me to turn off the lights, or we can just stop altogether, just-”

“Din,” she whispers, reaching her hand out until she finds purchase on his knee. “It’s okay. Please, just touch me before I melt into a puddle of goo.”

Din just hums and stands, beginning to remove his armor. The pieces clank to the floor by the edge of the bed one by one, and he swears her face gets redder and redder from the anticipation. Finally, he’s left only in his underwear. He reaches out and grabs her hand, pulling her to stand. His fingertips move down to brush against the hem of her heavy sweater.

“Is this okay?” He asks, tapping his finger over her stomach and he feels her muscles flutter. She nods her head and he tries again.

“No, you have to use your words, sweet girl. Is this okay?” This time, his tone is more firm.

“Yes,” she replies breathlessly. “Please, Din.”

“Please what? What do you want?”

At this point, he knows he’s just riling her up, making the tension palpable before she snaps. He hears a whine in the back of her throat before she responds.

“I-I want you t-to do what you said you’d d-do to me earlier.” She mumbles, looking down at the ground as if to avoid his gaze, even though she can’t see anything.

“Mmm,” he tuts, stepping closer to her and leaning down to nuzzle his nose against the pulse point in her neck. “Which was?”

She huffs. “I want you to eat my pussy until I cry, and then pin me down and fuck me however you want.”

He pulls back at her sudden forwardness, not expecting her to be baited by his teasing. Her hands are balled into fists at her sides and her chest heaves. She huffs again and starts pulling at her clothes.

When her sweater comes off, Din’s cock gets ten times harder at the sight of her bare chest. He’s so caught up in the way her nipples harden and her chest flushes that he doesn’t realize she completely naked until she gingerly steps back toward the bed and flops down.

“Are you even still alive?”

When Din catches a glimpse of wet slick in between her legs, he decides that he’s not.

“N-no, I’m still here...you’re just. Looks like you were sculpted by the Maker himself. I’m not ever gonna to be able to keep my hands to myself around you.” He murmurs, stepping in between her legs and drawing a finger up her calf.

“You haven’t even hardly done that yet.” She grumbles, twitching as his hand trails behind her knee.

“Mmm, that may be true, but I’m never gonna want to leave this room ever again.”

She smirks and he leans over her to plant a kiss on her mouth, his body not yet touching hers. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in closer, winding her legs around his torso. When Din feels her wet heat touch the skin just below his bellybutton, his patience thins. He deepens the kiss, carding his hands through her hair and holding her flush to him. She lets a soft moan out and he thinks he might explode.

He pulls away and moves down her body, leaving wet kisses in his wake that have her shivering. He licks a long stripe with the tip of his tongue from just above her clit to her navel and she claps a hand over her mouth.

He stops himself from drowning in her cunt and reaches up to pull her hand away from her mouth. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that I wanna hear you, sweet girl.”

As soon as she says okay, he dives in, immediately attaching his lips to her clit and sucking gently. Her hands fly to his hair and tug, which makes him groan at an ungodly loud volume into her pussy. He releases her clit and licks figure 8′s on her fluttering hole and back up to her clit. 

She squeals and brings her thighs up to cage his head, and Din resolves that if he dies, this is how he wants to go; devouring her pussy and soaking up the cute little noises she makes, getting his head squeezed by her thighs and his hair pulled by her tiny hands.

He sucks on her clit again and she lets out a long moan.

“Din, please, s-something put something-”

He cuts her off by slowly wedging his pointer finger into her and starting to thrust. Her back arches off the bed and she lets out an even longer moan than before.

He lets go of her clit and asks “Is this what you wanted, angel? My thick fingers? Or just my mouth?”

She hums before shaking her head. “I-Is both an option? I w-want both, please.”

“Good job using your manners. And yes, both is an option.” He says before diving back in.

This time, instead of hearing her moans, he’s not even sure he can hear her breathing. He inserts a second finger and she exhales, letting go of his hair to fist the sheets. His dick jumps at the loud squelching sound his fingers make in her pussy as he picks up the pace.

“Ohh,” she groans out, and his eyes flick up to see her tits moving slightly with the force of his fingers. “Din, that feels so good.”

“Mhm, I’m gonna have to give you one more finger, sweet girl. Do you think you can take one more?” He asks, his voice muffled as he keeps slurping on her clit.

“One more? B-But it already feels so...so...” she trails off into a whine when he curls his fingers up and gives her the ‘come here’ motion.

“Tight? Yeah, angel, I know. But I’ve gotta do one more if you wanna be able to take it.”

Her pelvic floor contracts at his words and she squirms, bringing her hands back up to his hair and tugging.

He slowly gives her a third finger and watches her face to control his pace. It scrunches up into a frown that wrinkles her nose, but relaxes when he uses his tongue to lick a flat stripe across her clit. She uses her purchase on his hair to guide him to suck her clit again, and shortly after that, she’s moaning again.

He scissors his fingers on every thrust, trying to get her as relaxed as possible for the real thing. He curls his fingers up one more time and she’s inhaling loudly, her thighs shaking around his head and her fingers tightening around his locks. She screams as she meets her release, the sound coming out rough and scratchy. She curls in around his head, refusing to let go of his hair as he continues to suck on her clit.

She finally lets go and Din keeps thrusting as she exhales and it turns into a whimper. He slowly removes his fingers and crawls back up her body, pushing her legs back up to his torso as he goes. Her chest is still heaving from her orgasm as he leans down to give her a thorough kiss.

“Suck,” he gently commands, bringing the three fingers that were just inside of her to her lips. She hesitates a moment before opening her mouth and doing as he says. He groans as her tongue slips in between each digit and she licks off her come.

Din feels his heart stutter as he watches her.

“You look so perfect like this, all open for me, being a good girl.”

She hums around his fingers and he removes them, shucking his underwear off and fisting his cock with her spit.

“Are you on the implant?” He questions.

“Yeah, it’s against the law not to be on Arkanis...is it going to hurt?” She asks softly, clutching her hands to her chest.

“I think I’ve got you pretty wet and worked open, but we’ll go slow. It might hurt a little,” he answers, rubbing his thumb on the inside of her thigh while his hand spreads her spit around the head of his dick. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” she says, nodding her head, but she replies again, seemingly remembering his warning from earlier. “Yes.”

He adjusts her legs so that her calves are resting on his hipbones. He brings his thumb back to her clit and rubs gently as he starts to push the head in.

Now, Din is a cocky bastard by any means, but he’s not surprised when she starts to scrunch her face up and hold her breath when his cock gets about an inch in.

“Uh-ooh uh Din...Din it’s thick. Let me...can I feel...” he slows his movements as she trails off, grabbing her hand and bringing it down to the rest of his length that isn’t inside of her yet.

“H-how is the rest of this supposed to fit in me, what the fuck?” She asks incredulously, barely able to wrap her hand around the diameter.

Din laughs lightly, reaching up and grabbing one of her pillows before lifting her hips up and sticking it under her.

“This might help. Just relax, the more relaxed you are, the quicker you’ll adjust.” He tells her, leaning down to give her a lingering kiss. He stays there, hovering over her as he gently pushes in some more, kissing her again when her face scrunches.

He gets about halfway in before she finally relaxes and Din’s cock doesn’t feel like it’s being strangled. He sits back up and watches as her pussy swallows the rest of his length.

“Oh, sweet girl you’re doing such a good job already. I wish you could see how good your little pussy takes this dick.” He tells her, choking on his words when her muscles flex and squeeze his dick. He pulls out a fraction of an inch before pushing in again and she mewls. “It’s like you were made for me.”

She brings her arms up to drape over her already covered eyes.

“I-it feels good...go faster, please, I want it.” She whines and Din can’t help but run a hand up her stomach and to one of her tits, pinching her nipple lightly before pulling back and giving her what she wants.

“I love it when you beg,” he breathes out, enunciating each word with a thrust that’s not too hard, but just hard enough to redden her chest and make her tits bounce. “Look at you, I’ve got a little princess speared on my cock, hardly able to even talk. Have you thought about this? Huh? Thought about how my cock would feel? I knew you were wearing those tight little leggings and those little tank tops with no bra on for a reason. Dancing around my ship like I didn’t want to bend you over a crate and take you right there.”

She moans, long and loud, and he picks up his pace, lifting up her legs and holding them against his chest.

“K-keep talking, please, please, ple-” Her voice turns into a whine when he angles his hips up and hits a spot inside of her that has her legs locking up and her ankles tightening behind his head. He has to grit his teeth to stop himself from coming too soon because of how much tighter her velvet heat gets.

“Yeah, you like that? This pussy feels so good, baby. I-I wanna spend the rest of my life just fucking you.” He grunts out, emphasizing his last few words with a hard thrust.

She lets out an absolutely pornographic moan when he does that, but it turns into a whine when Din abruptly pulls out. He pulls away to grab his helmet and slip it back on before plopping down on the bed next to her and pulling her hips up and over so she’s straddling his. He reaches up and yanks off the blindfold, causing her to reflexively cover her eyes.

“I have the helmet on, it’s fine,” he tells her, watching her shoulders deflate. “I want you to watch the way I fuck you, angel. Uncover your eyes.”

She tentatively does as he asks and when she looks down at his cock that rests on his stomach, her eyes bulge. When she takes it in her small hand, Din wants to burn the image into his brain. She looks back up at him with a look of amazement.

“There’s no way this was in me...” she trails off, lightly stroking it.

“Mm, yeah, well you can have it back in you if you’d stop talking. I like it more when you beg.”

He watches as the look of amazement turns to mischief, similar to the look she gave him earlier at the theatre. Her milky eyes pierce his visor as she licks her hand and then rubs her pussy, dragging her other hand up her body to grab a handful of her tit.

“Then why don’t you put it back in and keep fucking me?” She asks, looking down at him through her lashes.

“Every fucking day you’re full of surprises, angel,” he groans, grabbing his cock and teasing her clit with it before pushing up and into her. She throws her head back and Din suddenly wishes she had the blindfold back on so he could fulfill his earlier wishes of marking her up.

He grabs her hips and pulls her down to meet his thrusts.

“Look,” he barks, causing her to jerk her head down to the place they meet. “Look at how this cock stretches you. Look at how well you’re doing, such a good girl. Always such a good girl for me, doing what I ask you to.”

He rambles as his thrusts get harder and faster and the princess starts to clench around him again.

“Are you gonna come for me? Gonna come all over this cock? One of these days, I’m gonna make you squirt all over my armor and then I’m-I’m not even gonna clean it, I’m just g-gonna go pick up a bounty.”

The princess lets out a laugh at that, clapping a hand over her mouth as she does and Din slows his pace.

“I’m sorry this feels really good still, but that was just funny. Hot, but also funny. I-I think it was just your delivery,” she giggles, removing her hand from her mouth and placing it on his chest.

Din’s heart skips a beat at the sight of his girl straddling his cock with a smile on her face, looking at him so lovingly. It’s a gaze he hasn’t been on the receiving side of in a long time. He finds himself thankful for once that the helmet is on because of the tears that spring to his eyes. Crying during sex? Not Din Djarin.

He sits up then, holding onto her back and folding his knees under him, hearing them protest as he does. He pushes her shoulders down so that he’s bottomed out inside her pussy and she groans.

“Please don’t ever leave me,” he pleads, looking up and fixing his visor on her face. “Him and I, we need you.”

“I-wh-where did that come from? Are you okay?” She asks, placing her hands on either side of his helmet and looking concerned.

He ignores her question, opting to bury his helmet into her chest and hug her tight while starting to thrust back into her.

“Din...” she warns, but hugs him back anyway.

They stay like that for a few minutes, just slowly moving back and forth together until Din’s patience breaks and he can’t help but start thrusting harder and faster. His hand snakes down her front to rub at her clit and he can feel her start to come undone. Her cunt clenches around him as she’s quickly and quietly tipped over the edge, her thighs and back spasming. She says nothing, just pants heavily above him, clutching his shoulders and brushing the strands of hair at the back of his neck that have escaped his helmet.

“Can I-can I come inside? Please-”

“Yes,” she cuts him off breathlessly. “Please, Maker, yes.”

He thrusts in a few more times before speaking again.

“Tell me you-mmm. Tell me you love me, cyare.”

“Oh, Din, I love you so much. You’re so special, you’re such a special man. I loveyouIloveyouIloveyou.”

He comes inside of her with a long groan, burying his face further into her chest as she repeats herself over and over.

Eventually, Din flops back onto her bed and she follows. He notices she takes extra care to make sure his cock doesn’t slip out of her.

“Wanted to keep all that come in there, huh?” He jokes lightly, giving her a soft pat on the butt.

“Shut up,” she huffs with a laugh into his neck. “I’m gonna have to get up eventually though to turn off the light. Are you...will you stay with me? If the lights are off?”

He rubs his hands up and down her back before exhaling deeply and responding.

“I would sleep in all of my armor just for the honor of falling asleep next to you.”

“Mmm,” she hums, tracing her finger along his collarbone. “Well lucky for you, I have a strict ‘no armor’ policy in my bed. It reads like this: ‘No beskar? No problem.’.”

-

Din awakes with a start to a loud thwump, thwump, thwump from somewhere in the ship. Immediately fearing the worst, he throws his undershirt and pants on and rushes into the hold.

There she sits, his princess, in one of his long-sleeve tunics and a pair of his underwear that fit her like shorts, banging the absolute shit out of one of her pointe shoes. The child, his son, he reminds himself, sits across from her holding the other shoe, trying to mimic her and bobbing his head along to the music playing softly in the background.

He calms his racing heartbeat as he goes to take a seat on the floor next to them.

“Happy Life Day,” she says, leaning over to place a kiss where his cheek would be.

“Happy Life Day to you, too,” he responds tenderly, booping her nose. She looks down to return to her work and Din turns to his son. “Happy Life Day, buddy.”

He babbles in delight, holding up the shoe to show Din all the work he’s (not) done on it.

“Sorry if I woke you up...actually, no I’m not. He told me to,” she says without looking up, nodding her head toward the child who just laughs. “He wants his presents, daddy.”

Din clears his throat and stands back up while the princess just smirks, knowing exactly what she does to him.

“Oh, and while you’re at it, there’s one for you underneath my bed.” She calls out to him as he leaves to go retrieve the Life Day presents.

“Alright, but next time I sit down, I’m not getting back up for at least 20 minutes.” He calls back from the ladder.

When he returns, he sees that they’ve switched shoes.

“So what does that do anyway?” He asks, setting the presents on the floor in between them. The child immediately makes grabby hands.

“Oh, it just breaks them in, but trust me, you’re not gonna want to see my feet for at least a week once you see what pointe shoes do to them,” she laughs.

Din’s helmet tilts, trying to gauge if he should have even bought them.

“Hey,” she says softly, placing a warm hand on his shoulder. “Thank you. They’re perfect. You have to do this with all of them, I promise.”

He just nods and pats her hand before reaching over and handing the child his present.

“This one’s mine?” He asks, holding up a large box wrapped in purple paper with a silver bow on top.

“Mhm,” she responds with a smile, tossing the shoe aside to pull his son into her lap and help him unwrap his present. “There’s a few things in there, but I could only do one box because the paper tax on Vardos was high.”

“That’s rich coming from the princess,” he teases, gently tearing into the paper.

“Hey! You know I don’t like using my parents’ capitalist credits,” she frowns.

He laughs, the modulator making it sound raspy. Their attention is grabbed by the child, who finally gets the box open and squeals in delight at the objects inside.

“Show dad what you got!” She tells him.

Din ignores his own present for a moment to watch as his son shows him a red shirt and black pants.

“Wow! That’s cool! Do you like them?” He asks.

The child babbles and Din looks at the princess. “Where’d you find something that small?”

“A maternity store,” she responds with a shrug, still looking down at the child. “Show him the next one!”

Din’s thoughts are swimming with the idea of her walking around a maternity store when the kid shows him his next present. The mental image has his blood rushing south until he reminds himself where he is and what he’s doing.

He clears his throat for the second time that morning because of explicit thoughts. “Oh, that’s neat!”

His son holds a tukka doll close to his chest with bright eyes and a beaming smile that shows his little teeth.

“Tell your dad to open his present,” the princess leans down and tells him, giving him a scratch on the head. When he babbles at Din again, his heart melts.

“Okay, okay, I’m on it hang on,” he responds, gently peeling open the cardboard.

In the box sits a camera, a photo, a cushion of some sort, and a folded piece of deep red fabric. The first thing he pulls out of the box is the photo. It takes him approximately ten seconds to realize that it’s a picture of him, smiling, as a boy. Next to him sits a girl, about four years older than him, and behind them stand his parents. There’s a tree with lights and ornaments decorating it in the background.

“Do you like it?” She softly asks him, placing a hand on his knee.

“I...how?” Is all he can muster.

“Well, I did some digging...a lot, actually. I found this on the holonet on an Aq Vetina tribute page,” she says, scratching the back of her neck and looking away. “It’s sad how many of those there are. Anyways, I saw your last name, your family’s last name, and figured it had to be you guys. I, uh, had it printed out because having to boot up a piece of technology every time you want to see that seems silly.”

“Is that...did I have a sister?” He whispers, drawing his finger over her picture.

“Seems that way. I could probably do some more digging if you’d like...maybe teach you how to use the holonet while I’m at it, old man.” She softly teases, squeezing his knee.

He’s scared that he broke something when he practically tackles her in a hug. His son hoots in delight, crawling his way up her front to be in the middle of the embrace.

“Thank you...so much,” he whispers in her ear, this time doing nothing to stop the tears that roll down his cheeks and catch on the lining of his helmet.

“It’s the least I could do,” she replies, giving him a soft smile when he pulls away. “If you need a moment, we can take a break before you-”

“No, no it’s okay. I’m fine,” he reassures her, the barest hint of a smile in his voice. “I’m right here where I want to be.”

He pulls the camera out of the box and inspects this.

“This is an older model,” he comments, looking through the viewfinder. “This must’ve been hard to find.”

“Yeah, but I wanted one that prints the photos out so you can keep them on you,” she responds.

“What’s this?” He asks, holding up the cushion.

She laughs. “It’s for your butt. For your chair in the cockpit. It’s supposed to help with back pain.”

He gently pops her on the head with it and she giggles. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“Mhm...pull out the last one.” She tells him, nodding to the box.

He removes the fabric from the box and it unfolds as he holds it up.

“It’s a new cape. I got it so you guys could match.”

The smile on Din’s face threatens to break his helmet in half. “Hey, buddy, look...we’re matching.” He says, holding the cape out to his son.

The child giggles and wraps it around himself like a cape, and goes parading around the little half circle they’ve formed.

“This is...this is nice,” Din compliments, scooting over and slinging his arm over the princess’s shoulder. “All we need now is a tree.”

She leans her head into the crook of his arm and sighs contentedly. “Yeah, well they don’t survive in extended periods of hyperspace...trust me, I already thought about it.”

“I feel bad I only got you the one present,” he remarks, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

“Mm, I’ve got everything I want right here,” she singsongs, poking him in his side. “Now lets get all this paper cleaned up so we can eat.”

She holds her hands out and he follows her up.

“What if we...uh, can we recreate that picture? The one of my parents?” He asks tentatively once he’s fully standing.

“Like...with the three of us?” She inquires, her eyes widening.

“Yeah.”

“Of course,” she answers with a soft smile. “It’d be best to do it after breakfast before his nap though.”

He watches for a moment as she starts cleaning up the multicolored wrapping paper, thinking about how peaceful and domestic this moment seems. He almost brings up getting their implants removed and having a few more monsters running around the ship, but he decides that maybe that’s a conversation for next Life Day, where hopefully they won’t have to live in the ship anymore or be on the run.

Even if there aren’t any more kids in the picture, or if we never settle down somewhere, this is more than enough, he thinks before joining his princess and his son in the kitchenette for a Life Day feast.

And for a day, all is well with the Mudhorn Clan.