#the yellow helmet is back I’m going to throw up

[mywritersmind]

ULTIMATUM - LN4 

summary : Maybe you know he’ll win no matter what, maybe you hope he’ll do it for you. Either way, a silly ultimatum may be the best thing that happens to him the night his team becomes world champs.

listen up : MCLAREN IS WORLD FUCKING CHAMPIONS!! landonorris x zakbrownsdaughter!reader <33 just a short blurb to end the season with 🍾🏆🧡

words : 623

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I downed the rest of my cocktail, slamming it back onto the table in a fit of blushing tipsiness. “I’ll tell you what, Norris…”

Lando’s eyes met mine, mischievous and glinting in the club lights. It was dangerous, I knew that. Lando was dangerous but the way he had been leaning into me all night, why not have a little fun?

“Abu Dhabi. It’s the last race of the reason.” He nodded slowly, “If you win, no…” I took back my words, “If you lead every single lap on that circuit… I'll give you what you want.”

He started smirking again, “And what do I… want?” his arm slips around the back of my chair, leaning in. I can smell his cologne as his fingers drift against my back.

My brow quirks as his gaze flicks down to my lips, then to my eyes. “Me.” I say simply.

He bit his lip, a smile pulling through, “Dangerous…”

I twirled a piece of his hair around my finger, whispering in his ear, as he breathed softly against my neck. “Win, and you get me.”

I knew that look in his eye, the same look he’s given me a hundred times before a race. Lando hates losing, but this is different. He would try for his team, but he would win for me.

⋆༺

The flash of orange zooms past me as my team screams, the garage going absolutely nuts. “We’re fucking world champs!” my dad hugs me, screaming and jumping up and down.

The adrenaline is up as papaya runs and screams, celebrating the team win. I laugh as Lando gets out of the car, shaking my head as he finds his family, his visor up and cheeks squished against the helmet.

He rips the black and yellow off of his head, his curls free as his smile shines bright. The crowd is going crazy and as Lando waves to them, I push through the sea of orange. “Norris!”

He turns at the call of his last name. His face is dented from his helmet and his hair is a mess. He points at me, throws his helmet on the floor, and runs. He doesn’t say a word, just grabs my waist as if I'm the trophy. His lips are on me in an instant, hungry and almost knocking me off my feet.

He's hot and sweaty and I wouldn’t want it any other way. My arms move to his shoulders to pull him in tighter, people around us whistling and clapping as he slips his tongue in my mouth. I’m so happy that I genuinely start crying.

Lando’s thumbs wipe my eyes as he smiles down at me. We get ripped away in a frenzy of cameras and team members congratulating him.

His hands find me again though, pulling me into a hug and laughing in my ear, “Maybe you should give me an ultimatum more often, Brown.” I teasingly push him away, shaking my head and rolling my teary eyes.

I can’t help the smile on my face, pushing against his chest I yell, “Every fucking lap! You did that, Lan!”

He kisses me again, his breath heavy and his lips smiling against me. I pull back the second I feel a stern hand on my shoulder, one I know all too well.

My dad eyes us both, “You two are lucky I’m in a good mood!” Lando’s still smiling, shaking hands with his team manager after he just kissed his daughter on live television. Twice.

I laugh, “Congratulations, dad!”

He narrows his eyes on Lando before waving us off, “Yeah yeah, go live it up or whatever! Lando! We have a podium to complete.”

[luxaofhesperides]

Accidental Bride Sacrifice ; requested by @starlightcat04!

Danny has long since gotten used to the feel of summonings. They don’t happen often, but sometimes the right components are put together to force him into answering, and he’d have to go as the new Ghost King.

Which no one told him was a thing! He hadn’t protested too much about the whole Ghost King deal when they finally told him about it after he graduated high school. It gave him a good excuse to ditch life in the living realm and not worry about college or a career, and let him really embrace his ghost side. 

The summonings are a problem, though. They always feel staticky and bad, like a dumpster that just got struck by lightning. The taste of iron on his tongue, a clear sign of blood being spilled, lets him know that it would be one of end the world for us summonings, because some people can’t put in the effort to do it themselves, apparently. 

But this time, the summoning feels different.

Danny pauses, eyes going unfocused in the middle of his conversation with Jazz. He had been looking forward to spending the week with her, now that she’s on winter break, but his luck is as bad as always.

“I’m being summoned,” he tells her, cutting off her rant about a transphobic professor she had. 

“Oh, no. Do you need me to do anything? Should I go with you to beat up whoever it is that’s summoning you?”

Danny tilts his head to the side, considering. The taste of blood is noticeably absent. In fact, this summoning pull doesn’t make him feel sick at all. It makes him feel warm, as if he’s just been wrapped in a hug.

“No,” he says. “I think I’m good. This one feels different.”

“A good different?” Jazz asks, worry clear in her voice.

“Yeah. A good different. I’ll come back soon, okay?”

“Alright. Be careful, Danny.” Jazz pulls him into a quick hug, then steps back to watch as Danny stops fighting the pull of the summoning and disappears into a swirling white rings that flashes into existence behind him, blinding her for a moment, and is gone when she manages to blink the spots out of her vision. 

For a minute, Danny drifts in a void of stillness, traveling through the realms as the summoning draws him closer to the correct realm. And then he’s rising out of the ground in a dark building made of concrete, candles of green flame scattered all over the place.

“Great One!” someone in a hooded cloak cries, raising his arms in jubilation. “Our calls have been answered!”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” a mechanical voice yells from farther back. When Danny looks past the cultists’ heads, he spots a man in a red hood and leather jacket chained to a pole, along with a bunch of other people in strange costumes tied up, desperately trying to free themselves. 

“Silence!” The leader of the cult, or who Danny assumes is the leader, snaps at the hooded man and gestures to the people off to his left. They force another costumed person forward, this one in yellow armor. He can see the blood running down their face from beneath their helmet and from their nose, dark lines of blood cutting through their brown skin. 

The cultists throw the armored person forward, forcing them to kneel. Then they bow to Danny and step back.

“Great One,” the leader says, voice unpleasantly reverent and grating, “Welcome to the mortal realms. We offer you this sacrifice to feed your strength. He will make a fine general for your undead army in your crusade to rid this world of its filth.”

The people in the back begin shouting all together, panicked voices overlapping, and Danny is left staring down at the cultists in shock.

The summoning had felt so nice. What the hell was this? He did not sign up for another ‘end of days’ insane cult. He just wanted to be hugged. 

His silence makes the cultists nervous. They begin to shift uneasily, whispering to each other, and the leader clears his throat, then pulls a large crystal dagger out of his cloak. “We shall prove our devotion to you through an offering of a hero’s blood!”

And then he moves towards the sacrifice and Danny snaps out of his shock to yell, “Wait!”

The entire room freezes. Even the costumed people in the back go still. 

Danny winces, then tries to smother his power, make himself more palatable to the humans of this dimension. “Wait,” he says again, and he sounds closer to human now. If he could, he would drop his ghost form entirely, but he knows better than to endanger himself like that. “What, exactly, did you summon me here for?”

The cult leader stares at him for a moment. “To… To rid the world of filth and allow your loyal followers to spread word of your power. You will be worshiped again, Great One, and serve as a reminder to man that Death shall always prevail.”

“Okay, I get that, but I was talking more along the lines of the summoning. What ritual did you use? What specifically were the summoning requirements?”

Normally, he’d be able to figure it out himself, but these cultists didn’t use a summoning circle. So they did something else, something less visible and therefore harder to figure out, in order to bring him here.

A woman standing off to the side speaks up, stepping forward hesitantly. “I had pieced together a few summoning spells from this book to bring you here. You had to accept our chosen sacrifice to your side in order for the summoning to work.”

“Hold up that book for me, please?”

She does, and Danny flies down to grab it from her hands. “Point out which lines you used,” he says, already reading a few of the words written down. It’s definitely ghostspeak written down, which should be near impossible for living humans to translate without being skilled in magic.

“Ah, these ones.” She points to each line, reading them out for him, and Danny starts understand what, exactly, went wrong.

“Is there a problem, Great One?”

Danny returns the book then floats over to the sacrifice and picks him up. The costumed people make alarmed noises, but quietly quiet down again when all Danny does is move him away from the cultists.

“Okay,” he says, “So. The lines you used to summon me were not translated properly. What you interpreted as ‘accepted to stay by the king’s side in loyalty and strength’ is not meant to be, like, him being part of my undead army or whatever. It’s a royal marriage vow.”

“They married us?” the sacrifice shouts, disbelieving. The cult leader buries his face in his hands and sighs.

“My deepest apologies, Great One. We meant no offense. We simply wanted to aid in your destruction of this depraved world.”

Danny scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna fly with me. I do not do the biding of random people, especially those who are ready to murder innocent people for no reason. Frighty, if you would.” He snaps his fingers, calling up Fright Knight who always enjoys getting to torment the people who summon Danny for murderous reasons.

Fright Knight appears in a swirl of darkness and screams. Shadows swallow the room, and when they recede, no cultists remain.

“Thanks, Frighty. Have fun with them. I need to figure out all… this.”

Fright Knight bows to him, then disappears. Danny lets out a breath, then floats down lower to be eye level with the sacrifice. “Hey,” he says gently, with a smile, “I’m so sorry they did this to you. I’m Danny. What’s your name?”

“Du— Uh, Signal,” the sacrifice says, sounding rather dazed. 

“Signal,” Danny repeats. “Like… a traffic signal?”

“No. I mean, maybe? But it is Signal. That’s my hero name, not my real name.”

“Oh, you’re a hero!” His getup makes more sense now. Danny checks him over for any signs of injuries. So far, only his head and nose seem to be injured, but his wrists are tightly bound behind his back. Carefully, Danny calls upon his ice and shapes it into a sharp knife, then cuts through the zipties.

He helps Signal up to his feet, floating by his shoulder. “All good?”

“Yeah, man, all good. Let me just get the others free.”

“Oh, I can do it!” Danny flies over to the other costumed people, who must also be heroes. All it takes is one link in the chain being frozen and broken for the entire thing to go lax, allowing them to free themselves. Hooded guy spares Danny a single glance, then hurries over to Signal to check on him. The other three, a man with a blue bird across his chest, a blond girl with a yellow bat outline on her chest, and a guy with bandoliers and a golden bird emblem, all watch him warily as he floats back towards the center of the room.

“So,” the blue bird man says, “If they summoned you with a marriage vow, and you accepted, does that mean you’re planning to steal Signal away from us?” He’s smiling, but it’s not a nice smile.

“No! I had no idea they did this! I am so sorry you all got caught up in this. You most of all, Signal.”

Signal shrugs, nudging hood guy away from him. “Nah, man, it’s all good. This is definitely the better outcome.”

“I don’t know, being married off isn’t really a good thing.”

“Hey, at least they married me off to a decent guy.”

“You don’t know that,” Danny says, “What if I’m secretly evil?”

“If you were secretly evil, you’d be destroying the world right now. I think you’re fine.”

The blond girl waves at him, demanding his attention. “Quick question! They were calling you ‘Great One’. Are you a god or something?”

“Not really? I’m the Ghost King. So I’m a ghost who rules over other ghosts and also a majority of the Infinite Realms.”

She nods as if this is all totally normal for her, then shoots Signal a grin. “Congrats on bagging a king! Not the worst way to spend a night, right?”

“Can you break the marriage?” blue bird man asks, the lines of his shoulders tense.

Danny awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, not looking any of them in the eye. “I honestly don’t know. I can look for a way! But I genuinely have no clue. This was unexpected.”

“But you accepted.”

“I didn’t know what I expected! It just felt like a hug, and I wanted a hug! I thought I was being summoned for something nice for once!” Danny curls up, bringing his knees up to his chest, and hides his pout behind his hands. He knows he’s being childish, but he can’t help but be upset that he couldn’t have this one good experience from being Ghost King. 

It’s always responsibilities and death cult summonings and fighting ghosts who don’t think he should be king. Sure there have been some good things, but they’re comparatively few when looking at all the other stress and pain that comes with the crown. Sue him for wanting to have a nice night for once. Hell, at this point, he’d take being summoned to help with some kid’s homework, because at least then he could have a quiet night helping someone.

“Hey, man, can you come down here?” Signal asks. 

He wants to stay out of reach, hiding himself away for a bit longer, but Signal is his new, surprise, accidental husband, so Danny lowers himself to the ground and peeks through his fingers to look at him.

He tenses when Signal hugs him, soft and warm and comforting. It takes a moment for him to realize what’s going on, and then he’s melting into Signal’s embrace, dropping his hands to wrap them around Signal’s back.

Distantly, he can hear the other heroes talking quietly amongst themselves. He blocks out the sound as much as he can, determined to enjoy this hug while it lasts.

Which is… fairly long. Signal makes no moves to end the hug, so Danny closes his eyes to really savor the moment. 

“So,” Signal murmurs into his ear, “As newlyweds, how about we get to know each other a bit better before we start working on fixing all this?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Let’s ditch these guys and take some time to ourselves.”

“I promise I’ll get this fixed,” he says, just to make sure Signal knows. “Genuinely, I am so sorry to have married you through an old Realms vow when you had no say in it.”

“Hey, if it lands me a very nice, very attractive king, then I don’t mind at all. I could have done without the murderous cultists, though.”

Danny huffs out a small laugh. “Oh, for sure. Thanks for being so cool about this. Want me to fly us out of here?”

“Yes please,” Signal says. Danny smiles and tightens his grip on Signal, then lifts them both up. “I’ll see y’all later! Have fun with the rest of your patrols!” he calls out to the other heroes, who start shouting at him.

Danny flies them right out the roof before the other heroes figure out a way to kick his ass. The city they’re in is smoggy and dark, tall buildings rising up into the cloudy sky, and police sirens ring through the air. There’s no where that looks like a particularly nice spot to land for a conversation, so he asks Signal where he’d like to go and follows his directions from there.

They end up phasing through a building, then into the floor, which leaves them in what Signal calls The Hatch. 

Danny takes a quick moment to freak out over being in a hero’s secret hide out, the composes himself and finally pulls away from Signal.

“So,” he starts, looking around The Hatch and taking in the giant computer, the workstation, the motorcycle farther down the way, “What did you—Woah!” Danny spins around, slamming a hand over his eyes the instant he realizes that Signal is taking off his helmet, leaving his face bare.

It’s not like he’d know who Signal is anyways, being from a different dimension, but it’s the principle of the matter.

Signal laughs when he sees Danny’s attempt to keep from looking at him. A warm hand wraps around his wrist and gently pulls it away. “It’s okay, Danny, you can look,” he says. “It would be pretty weird if my own husband didn’t know my face.”

Slowly, giving Signal to change his mind, Danny opens his eyes. He moves his gaze up, going from Signal’s armor to his face, his very cute face and his warm brown eyes, and Danny stares for a moment. 

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” Signal says, fondness coloring his voice. “My name’s Duke. Are all Ghost Kings as cute as you?”

“Duke,” Danny repeats. “Hi. Um, no. The last one really sucked, actually, which is why I fought him. He was so bad the Infinite Realms didn’t want him anymore, so though I technically didn’t beat him in single combat, it was enough for the Infinite Realms to kick him out and get me on the throne.”

“Man, I can not wait to hear more of your stories. Think we got time for that while we search for a way to undo that marriage vow?”

Taking his chance, Danny says, “Sure! It’s a date.”

He’s awarded by Duke’s bright smile and idly wonders how long he can keep them married. Hopefully long enough for them to get into a real relationship where he can propose properly. And then he can get Jazz’s blessing too—

“Oh shit,” Danny realizes. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell my sister or she’s going to actually kill me.”

Duke winces. “And I should probably tell the others before Spoiler makes a mess of things… B is not going to be happy with me.”

They share a despairing look, already dreading the amount of scoldings they’re both going to get. He’s not looking forward to it.

“...Put it off until tomorrow?”

Duke nods. “Yeah. That’s a tomorrow problem. For now, how about a late dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.”

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

[redflagshipwriter]

Check yes ch 11

masterpost

Jason repressed honest to god giggles until Danny phased them out of the building and to ground level. Then they started running back to where he had left his bike, laughing with adrenaline as Jason’s footsteps beat down on the pavement. They ran through a thick cloud of smoke outside a barbeque place, bathed in spice and meat essence. “The look on his face!” Jason gasped. “Why did that looney tunes plan work?”

“That’s how my battles go,” Danny defended himself, grinning so hard he glowed under the yellow tinted streetlights. Jason wasn’t sure he was actually running, per se. Was he touching the ground? “I do shit like enter video games and physically fight firewalls. You people are not prepared for me.”

“No shit, Bugs Bunny.” Jason snickered and wiped tears of laughter away before he unhooked his helmet from his bike. Danny shied away like he was worried Jason would force him to take head protection. Jason had fought enough of those battles for today, so he let it go when he never would for a normal passenger. After a moment Danny skittered back into grabbing range and Jason jokingly snagged his arm to reel him onto the back of the bike. “Where to, Prince Charming?” he teased.

Danny went stiff and cold behind him, which was really on brand for a corpse. But it also made it very obvious that he was trying to suppress some kind of reaction.

Okay. That nickname was either really good or really bad. Jason kept his body language loose and open, not really concerned but very aware that he did have an interdimensional monster guy on the back of his bike. “Brr,” Jason complained mildly. For real, it was like having a big ice pack pressed up against his back. How did it permeate his leather jacket and layers of tactical material so easily?

“...Sorry,” Danny said, voice flat. He reached out and gripped onto Jason’s front pockets. “Please don’t call me that one, for mysterious reasons.”

“...Alright.” Jason took that on board. He’d stepped near some kind of trigger. He made sure to remember it. “I have questions that are answered by the ‘mysterious reasons’ clause at the end of your sentence. Fair play. Let’s go to the arcade. It’ll take him a while to follow us.” He latched his helmet and kicked up the stand. “Hold on.”

Danny snorted. “Hang on,” he said scathingly, but there was a teasing lilt under the words. “You cannot possibly throw me off. Grungier men than you have tried.” 

Grungier? Not bigger or meaner or whatever? Jason choked down a laugh. Danny sounded so serious about it, too.

“Odd flex.” Jason turned on the engine and started off before Danny could do more than sputter at his deadpan response. They weaved between heavy Gotham traffic, protected from car fumes by Jason’s breathing filters and Danny’s nonchalant attitude regarding reliance on oxygen. 

Click

Danny jerked behind him, a clear indication that he heard the tiny sound of Jason’s helmet mic turning on. 

He hadn’t done that, so the list of suspects was very short. “Hello, Barbie,” he drawled.

Her unfiltered voice rang out in his ear. “Let’s go party,” she dead panned. Danny pressed his palms a little harder into Jason’s stomach in what might have been proprietary. Was he jealous? “Terrible of you to set a fox in the henhouse when I am off work.”

“Dick started it,” Jason whined honestly. He hit the brakes as the light ahead turned a yellow that cast eerie shades across lingering puddles. “I’m just trying to have a nice night out, and he wants to bother us.”

A female voice faintly floated across the background of Barbara’s call. “Poor baby,” Babs cooed mockingly. “Are you really so innocent? No instigation?”

“Not a word,” Jason lied. He put his feet down to brace the bike. Danny was the weirdest passenger he’d ever had, by virtue of being weightless and having no wind resistance. It was like driving alone except that there were hands on his front and a face pressed against his left shoulder blade.

Someone laughed in the distance. “I want to play,” Barbie sighed. It came across crystal clear into his ear.

“On my team?” Jason asked hopefully. 

She snorted. “Depends on how the chips are falling when I’m done with this presentation. Right now, it’s two to one, isn’t it? Dick’ll look for someone to play on his team before too long. It won’t be me, at least for an hour.”

Information was never free. “Thank you,” Jason said, already mentally allotting a couple hours next Saturday to moving heavy things around the Clock Tower. “Damn decent of you. Wanna say hi to Danny?”

Babs paused. “He’s not wired in, is he?”

The light turned green. Jason kicked up and breezed through the intersection. “No, but he can hear you.”

Danny’s chest became a little more solid against Jason’s back and he- slithered? Was he slithering?

“Hello, Barbie,” he said, politely and somehow inside Jason’s helmet.

Jason was very still. Wow. Bad. His hindbrain did not like this. 

“Call me Barbara, please,” she said. “Danny, right? Are you boys having fun at Dick’s expense today?”

“I dumped water on him,” Danny said happily.

There was a long moment. “How?” Barbie was hiding it, but she was a little disturbed. Jason got it. Dickie was one of the best in the game. 

“I phased through the ceiling when he was distracted, talking to a waiter.”

“Ah, you can fly. That’s pretty ghostly.”

Danny made a grunt. “Well, yeah, but actually I went zero gravity and made it look like I was lizard-crawling on the ceiling with glowing eyes.”

“...Can you hand the helmet back to Jay?”

“I’ll just back out,” Danny said, and slid back down Jason’s back. He suppressed a shiver. It was like- it was like being partially overlapped with some kind of cooled gel. It wasn’t just on his skin, it was sliding easily against the first layers of muscle or something underneath.

‘Interdimensional monster,’ Jason reminded himself. ‘Hot interdimensional monster.’ He put his questions away for later. “He’s fabulous, right?” he drawled. “We’re about to our destination, if it’s alright to get off the line.”

“Stay safe out there, loverboy.” Babs cut the call abruptly.

“She seems nice,” Danny lied. Or maybe he was just a bad judge.

“She will become our enemy real quick if it’s more amusing to her,” Jason corrected. “She’s a terrible enemy to have. I hope her date goes so well she doesn’t check in.”

Danny sulked against his back and slid his cold fingers through Jason’s jacket to rest of his skin directly. Jason suppressed a yelp, barely. “Boring,” he moaned. “If she’s powerful, she should fight me.” “Don’t buy that trouble,” Jason muttered. Jeeze. This dead guy had no self preservation instinct.

[dvrcos]

more mic’d up andrew minyard when?? mic’d up AARON minyard when?? other mic’d up fox when??

Aaron Minyard Mic’d up

Hes reluctant to do it for a long fucking time

He thinks its kinda dumb

But he mostly doesn’t wanna get scolded for what his mic would pick up

Because my boy is a shit talker

He’s saying everything and anything he can to rile up the other team

He’s even trying to rile up the other foxes tbh

So when he finally agrees he makes coach promise he won’t get in trouble

He body slams the opposing striker (because if there’s one thing Aaron’s gonna do it’s put his all into a body check)

And the opposing striker is mad like visibly fuming

He’s all up in Aaron’s space, a moment away from starting a fight

And Aaron thinks it’s the funniest thing ever

He’s laughing his ass off while loudly crashing their raquets against each other

‘What you’re upset I hit you? I’m five foot nothing dude sounds like a you problem’

And he’s lucky the striker gets pulled away by his teammates cause he’s over 6 foot

And Aaron is all bark, no bite

*whispering into the mic as he walks away* ‘I’ll be honest guys, he would’ve kicked my ass but that was to good of an opportunity to pass up’

His best moments come from when he trips up a striker

*sends the striker sprawling onto their ass* ‘womp womp’

*body slams one into the wall* ‘maybe next time man’

*slams the ball out of their racquet* ‘that’s not yours cmon now’

He flirts with the opposing team but in German

Because he’s discovered that when they can’t understand what he’s saying it really gets to them

And he’ll slip in a word in English so they figure out he’s flirting

And they’re even more pissed and distracted that they mess up what would’ve been a solid play

‘What the fuck did you just say to me!?’

‘Hey, hey sorry just trying to have a nice conversation’ *winks and walks away to start up play again*

*Opposing striker, absolutely baffled and fuming*

His striker accidentally trips him up and gets past to Andrew

And Aaron doesn’t even have to look at Andrew to see the heavy bored expression he’s giving him

Aaron knows he’s probably plotting where to hide his body if he does it again

*Andrew, shaking his head in disappointment as he smacks the ball away*

*Aaron rolling onto his knees and pleading for mercy while laughing* ‘my bad, let’s just talk this out I promise it won’t happen again it was Nicky’s fault’

This happens a lot whenever they’re both on the court

Because making a joke out of Exy is one of the only ways they both actually enjoy it sometimes

And it’s something they can actually bond over

But oh god forbid if someone on the other team says something about Andrew

That’s when Aaron just looses it

Doesn’t matter if the player is ten times his size, he becomes all bite

‘Put your psycho pet brother on a leash already’

And Aaron’s helmets already off and he’s going for his gloves next

*Matt grabbing him and holding him back* ‘cmon Matt it’ll be good, he asked for it, it’ll be good’

‘No Aaron, no red cards’

‘But it’ll be fun’ *tries to throw his helmet at the other player*

He gets a yellow card for it but he proudly displays it by tucking it into the front of his jersey

‘I’m gonna frame this one coach’ he tells Wymack as he sits on the bench for his penalty

Kevin’s always the most annoyed by Aaron’s shit talking because it threatens the game and Aaron’s wellbeing

And he also gets the most riled up whenever Aaron’s turns it onto him

*Kevin storming over to Aaron after he almost gets ejected* ‘Stop saying shit that’ll get you kicked out of the game you idiot’

‘Oh cmon Day I know you like em a little feisty, I’m just trying to make you happy my Queen,’

And Kevin just smacks the top of his helmet and turns to walk away

‘I can get on my knees to apologize if you want, I know you like me on my knees’

And Kevin just has to tune him out cause Aaron won’t stop if he feeds into it

He gets really into the game sometimes though (because he’s competitive and he can’t help it)

Like he’s screaming and cheering so loud at certain points the mic is crackling

*Kevin and Neil scoring the goal that pulls them into the lead* ‘LETS FUCKING GO’

When he’s on the bench he’s the one banging on the plexi glass

He’s screaming at them to get their heads out of their asses or cheering them on even though they can’t hear him

And then he gets out of his competitive streak and he’s lowkey embarrassed

‘If that gets posted online I will never recover’ he mutters after he’s just jumped into Matt’s arms in celebration

When the foxes listen to his recording later they’re shocked by how creative Aaron gets with all of it

And they find it hilarious

And endearing

And they like that they’re getting to see a new part of Aaron as he gets more comfortable with the team

He is by far one of the most aggressive of the foxes when he’s on the court, both physically and verbally

And the fans absolutely eat it the fuck up

But Wymack doesn’t mic him up often because he is lowkey a liability because of what he says

[slimybeth69]

Touch: Part 10

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist

Din Djarin x f!reader (no physical descriptions, no use of y/n)

Explicit: angst, dark humor, smut, some talks of violence.

warnings/tags: protective!din, mentions of throwing up, unprotected P in V, painful/uncomfortable sex.

Chapter Summary: Part 2 of the Mines of Mandalore

a/n: this is when I start taking VERY creative liberties- so, I hope you stay having fun. if you read this on ao3 no kinda did, but not really. it's unbeta'ed, poorly proofread and written excitedly. I LOVE YOU ALL FOR STICKING WITH ME.

Previously- You’re plummeting back down to the bottom and you connect with a muted thud. It’s not as soft and sandy as you remember. You look down and instead of white gray sand it’s–scales? You look around as you empty the last of the bad air out of your lungs. You look directly into one giant yellow eye. It’s so close you can see your reflection in it. The eye itself is bigger than you are. You have no idea what you’re seeing. Horns? It’s a hallucination. Something your brain came up with to try and comfort you while you die, surely this isn’t real. The eye blinks at you twice. Din lays beside you, still unmoving as your body instinctively takes a breath in. Water fills your lungs and everything is suddenly warm and quiet.

It’s so bright. And it’s wet. Everything is wet, including inside of you.

All of the water ejects from your lungs and your belly as you sit up. You heave twice and throw up copious amounts of water. It’s being hacked from your lungs as you roll onto your stomach. You choke again, gasping for air, sucking more water back into your body. You hoist yourself up onto your hands and knees and choke it out of you. The skin on your face feels like it’s being ripped away from your skull as you throw up again and continue to cough. Your shoulder is still on fire, hurts worse now than it did before you got into the water. 

“Maker.” Din whispers from beside you. “I thought you died!” Din sounds like he was upset with you. “You wouldn’t breathe! You wouldn’t move! I tried for so long to resuscitate you!” Din’s yelling at you. Really yelling. “What were you thinking going in after me like that?” More yelling. 

You don’t even know what’s going on right now. Why is everything wet? What is he even yelling at you for? You sink back down onto your belly directly into your own wet expulsion– doesn’t matter, you’re dead. Din’s yelling and everything is wet. Definitely dead and this is definitely hell. 

“I’m talking to you!” Din rasps from his modulator. “You could have died!” You roll over onto your back and frown at him. 

“Am I not dead now?” You ask, very seriously. “I definitely died on that giant monster in the water.” You try to roll onto your side, take a nap because you are…exhausted. You didn’t know being dead would be so tiring. Fuck, you need a nap.

“What?” Din asks, not yelling anymore. “What— where?” 

“Big yellow-eyed monster. Horns.” You sigh sleepily. You wonder if dreams in hell are as good as they were when you were alive. Din’s kneeling beside you now, his hand on your bad shoulder. It jolts you into a sitting position and you're pushing yourself away from his touch with your feet. “Don’t! It hurts so bad.” You groan and hold your arm in your other hand. “I’m dead! Why does everything hurt!?” You shout at him angrily. 

“You’re not dead!” He shouts back at you. 

The tears just come from nowhere. Either you're overjoyed…scared…upset. Unable to believe you’re not really dead? Who knows, the tears are coming though. Din doesn’t care about your tears right now though. 

“You saw what in the water?” Din asks, taking a crawling step towards you. His helmet is dripping with water and you can see yourself in his reflection and you’re also a wet soaking mess in the worst sense. 

“It was a monster! It was big and had horns and yellow eyes and it saved us! It had to be the monster because Grogu left us to die in the livin– Those are not living waters! Those waters are dead or dying or I don’t know but the living waters sounded beautiful and that is fucking terrifying!” You’re sobbing, pointing to the water with your good hand. 

“A mythosaur?” Din’s head flicks between you and the water multiple times. “You saw a mythosaur?” 

“What the fuck is that?” You groan. Everything in you hurts so badly. Even your hair hurts. All of it. Everything. “Did you bathe? Did you do the thing with the transgressions? Are you no longer exiled? Can we please go back to the ship!?” You try to stand up but you lose your balance and end up back on your butt. Din walks over and helps you to your feet and steadies you carefully. 

“Are you saying that a mythosaur…saved us?” Din’s helmet is staring at you. You stare back at it, cradling your elbow in your hand because it makes your shoulder hurt less. 

“If I knew what a mythosaur was I could tell you.” You snap back but then hiss in pain as your shoulder throbs and now your back. What the fuck happened to your back?

The ship is warm and inviting when the three of you crawl back into it. You drop to your knees as the ramp shuts and you start to sob again. You were able to keep it together the entire walk back from the living waters. Din and you didn’t say much, he just held on to your waist and helped you limp back to the surface. The tears and the gasps flow freely as your hands touch the cool metal of the ship's interior. Din’s kneeling beside you, his hand rubs you back gently. 

“Do you still want to go to Bo-Katans?

“She could have died down there!” Bo-Katan yells at Din from outside the room you're in. “I warned you that something like that would happen and now look at her! Bruised, almost broken! And what happened to her face? Did you do that to her?” She’s shouting and hissing at him like you herself are Bo-Katans wife. It makes you feel good that she cares about your wellbeing but why does she care so much? 

“Are you really asking me that?” Din doesn’t sound impressed or amused with her. “She saw a myhtos-” 

Bo-Katan comes into the room, stops in the doorway and stares at you. 

“You saw a mythosaur? Impossible.” 

Din and Bo-Katan sit around the bed you’re laying in and they listen carefully as you explain the plan you made with Grogu to go save Din. The explanation about the creature you saw was hard though because you didn’t think it was real. It looked like something out of a scary story your aunt would tell you as you grew out of being a scared child and into an interested young adult. 

“It had a giant yellow eye. Bigger than me– Me and Din together! It was that big. And it had horns coming out of it’s mouth I think. And it was scaly. We were right on it. I think it moved us up to the surface because I watched Grogu float right back up to the surface. I watched him go. How else did we get back up there, Din?” You can tell that they don’t believe you. Bo-Katan gets up and leaves the room. You and Din look at each other for a moment. 

“Are you okay?” Din asks quietly. It’s hard not to turn your nose up at him right now. For multiple reasons. 

“Fine.” You grumble and touch at the new sling Bo-Katan’s medic droids put on your right arm. Din doesn’t say anything else and neither do you. You’re frustrated. He yelled at you, really yelled at you for almost dying.

Bo-Katan returns with a book in her hand, it’s already open to the page she needs to show you. She doesn’t even have to say anything before you’re pointing to a picture on one of the pages she has open to you. 

“This. This is what I saw down there.” You tap the picture a couple times with your finger. “This is it.” You look at Din who is also trying to see what Bo-Katan is showing you. 

“It's a mythosaur.” She says to Din as she snaps the book closed. “Were you too indisposed to see it for yourself?” She asks Din snappily. 

“I was unconscious .” Din says it like he might be embarrassed that he lost consciousness. Bo-Katan turns back to you with a smile, a real one. 

“At least we get to have that slumber party. You’ll be stuck here for at least the night. Medics order. ” She snaps her head back to Din. “I’ll let you rest now and we’ll have a good time later. Drink. Eat.” She says making her eyes wide with the last two words. 

Yes. Yes. You haven’t had a drink since the night you left Canto Bight and you would love one right now, actually. Several. 

Bo-Katan leaves the room. Now it’s just you and Din again. Quiet. Like before. Way before. Before he ever even touched you, kind of quiet. 

“I’m sorry I shouted at you.” Din says suddenly. You weren’t expecting that. “I…” Din trails off and now you look up to him instead of the strap around your shoulder. “Seeing you like that. Dead. I didn’t like it. Hated it.” Din slides his chair closer to your bed. “I don’t want to see you like that ever again. It scared me.” He places his hand in yours gingerly. 

“I’m sorry-” Din stops you.

“Don’t be sorry. For any of it. I wouldn’t be here without you and I’m so thankful for you. I just don’t want to lose you. Lose you, because of me.” Din shakes his helmet. You don’t really know what to say. You think in your heart you want to tell him that you love him and would have died for him if he needed you too. But that makes you sound…dumb, right? You don’t know. You were happy to lay down and die on the mythosaur when you took in all that water. You never even panicked. 

Din holds your hand in his for a long time and you two are just quiet. It’s not a bad quiet. Almost a reflection, kind of quiet.

“I don’t want…” You swallow hard and Din’s helmet snaps up to you. “I don't want you to start leaving me on the ship again. Even after all of that… I still would rather be with you out there,” You point out the window of your room to the stars. “-then be stuck on that ship waiting for you to come home to me.” Din shakes his head and squeezes your hand gently. 

“I can’t protect you when I’m too worried-” You furrow your eyebrows and pull your hand away, despite the pain in your shoulder. 

“You didn’t need to protect me” You growled at him. “I protected you!” Now you’re shouting. “ I saved you from that cyborg bug. I rescued you when you sunk down into the bottom of that wet hell. I saved you. ” You chew at the inside of your lip and you can feel your nostrils flare in anger. “Both times.” 

Din stares in your direction for a long time. He’s probably working on some argument that’s going to keep you locked up on that ship but you won’t do it. Nope.

“You’re right.” 

“Huh?” You look at Din with your upper lip curled. Din nods his head at you.

“You’re right. You did save me. Twice. I don’t need to worry about you. Having you around would be beneficial to me, actually.” Din tilts his head up like he’s thinking about the future and what you two could do together and eventually Grogu, when he stops being scared and will actually help. Okay. Flew a little too close to the sun there, didn’t you? Because now you’re his bodyguard?! What!? 

“I want drink. More drink. I want a lot of drinks.” You look out of the door Bo-Katan walked out of. “Can you tell her I need a drink–I want a drink. I would like a drink please. Please.” You look back to Din. “Do you drink? Can you get drunk?” 

“I could. I can. It’s hard with the helmet.” You nod in understanding, can’t drink in public or with your friends. 

“Right, who wants to get drunk alone?” You sigh at him. “I would. Right now.” You look back at the door. “Can I go do that? Please?” Din chuckles. 

“Bo-Katan was right. You need to rest.” Din squeezes your hand again and leans back in his chair. “We both should.” 

 “This is so good.” You slur softly at the blue glowing drink in your hand. “Better than the ones I would get on Canto Bight.” Bo-Katan smiles at you sweetly. She’s so damn pretty. You hate her for it but not really. She’s just so nice and so pretty and her armor is so shiny. 

“What did you used to do on Canto Bight?” She asks, leaning back against her throne. You’re both sitting on the floor in front of it. 

“I was a waitress mostly. Talked to tables. Wore a dumb little outfit.” You wave your hand up and down your body lazily. “I would tend to the machines sometimes if they needed credit refills or to be emptied. I hated that job though. Being a waitress wasn’t too bad. At least I made tips then.” You sip your drink slowly. 

Din was here… you think but he’s not here anymore. You and Bo-Katan have been talking for hours, drinking and her servant droids just kept bringing in the best snacks you’ve ever had. Different kinds of meats and cheeses and fruits. 

“Have you ever had Mandalorian Wine?” Bo-Katan asks as the droid hands her a glass bottle. You shake your head and she hands you the bottle. “Try, it’s from before the purge.” She explains as you take it in your hands. 

“You lived on Mandalore? You saw it before…” You trail off as you pull the top off the bottle. You look around for a glass but Bo-Katan motions for you to just drink it out of the bottle, so you do. It’s delicious. Not too sweet but not too dry like some wine you’ve had. 

“It was beautiful there before. My family ruled that tomb you walked through today to the mines.” She explains while you sip on the wine slowly. Nothing hurts anymore. You feel all good throughout your body. 

“You're royalty?” You’re amazed. “I guess that explains the castle, huh?” Bo-Katan smiles and then laughs with you. She has a nice laugh. 

“You’re from Cantonica then?” She asks as her laughter subsides. You sip the bottle of wine but don’t answer immediately. You take another sip while you think. 

“I don’t really know," you shrug. “I grew up with my aunt. My mom died when I was really little. I didn’t know my dad. My mom didn’t live in Canto Bight though. I got taken there by a nanny droid after my mom died.” You explain it quickly, it’s not something you normally talk about. You and Din don’t really speak about the past. Never have. It was fine with you. 

“So you don’t know where you're from? Where was your aunt from?” She asks like you haven't thought about it before. You laugh at the simple missed communication. 

“Kethra wasn’t my real aunt. She was just an old friend of my moms. She didn’t know where my mom came from. I stopped asking after a while.” Bo-Katan looks at you with sad eyes. 

“I’m sorry. It’s got to be hard not knowing.” She reaches and places a soft hand on your knee. It’s so comforting that it brings tears to your eyes. Or it's the wine. One of those two things makes your eyes water. 

“It’s not hard. I don’t really care. No one ever really asks so I don’t usually talk about it much.” You say quickly, the lump forms in your throat. “Sorry, think the wine got to me.” You wipe your eyes as Bo-Katan squeezes you gently. 

“You can cry if you want. It’s good to cry sometimes.” 

So you do. And Bo-Katan hugs you the entire time. You weep about how alone you felt in the Jedi temple and how you were so cold to Din when he got back and how you still feel so guilty about it. You sob when you tell her how scared you were when you thought you were going to lose Din forever. Then you laugh through your tears when you tell her about how comforting it was to think you were dying next to him. 

Bo-Katan looks at you as she pulls away. 

“You love him.” She looks disappointed. “Din’s a good man, but he’s devoted to his clan. The Children of the Watch.” She’s angry now, not at you but at Din, you can tell. “You’re devoted to him, and he’s devoted to his clan. Just be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt anymore than you already are.” She sighs. You don’t say anything, you pull a Mando special and just stare at her. “Don’t take it the wrong way. He cares for you deeply –I would even say he loves you too– but he loves the creed and his clan more. Din would die protecting you, as you would him, apparently. You’re safe with him, yes. But his first priority will al–”

Din clears his throat from the doorway. 

“This is why you wanted a slumber party so badly, Bo-Katan?” Din’s rasp echoes in the large room you two are in. 

“Get over yourself. I’m looking out for my friend. It’s not like anything I said wasn’t true, Din Djarin.” Bo-Katan calls out to him. She turns back to you and gives you a small kiss on your good cheek. “Just remember. Remember where Kalevala is too, if you ever need a friend.” She stands and holds her hand out to you. 

“So, what did Bo-Katan Kryze say was my first priority, if not you?” Din rasps as you walk back to the ship. It was late and you were going to stay the night but… apparently not after that. So, you’re hobbling back to the ship beside Din. 

“You creed. Your clan.” You don’t look up at him. You don’t want to see what his helmet is doing. 

R5 bleeps happily at you. The last time he saw you, you were sobbing on the floor of the ship, almost broken. You touch the top of his head softly as you walk past him.

“Let me show you how devoted to you I am.” Din takes your good hand and leads you into the sleeping quarters. Din takes the blankets off the floor and puts them onto your bed. 

“It’s too small for the both of us.” You whine quietly. Din presses his helmet to the top of your head. 

“You need a bed. Not the floor. Your back and shoulder.” Din tries to sit you down in bed but you’re a little drunk and being stubborn. You hmph softly and close your eyes. 

Din sighs loudly and you open your eyes and he’s throwing all the blankets and the mat on to the floor. He throws his blankets and his mat on the floor next to yours. 

“Stubborn. Perfect. Broken and beautiful.” Din rasps as you hobble over to the makeshift bed on the floor. He helps you down and carefully removes your pants and gets you tucked in.. 

“Touch me.” You whisper softly into the dark after he returns from closing the sun shields and putting Grogu to bed, putting R5 into sleep mode. 

“You’re so hurt.” Din sighs unmodulated as he rubs his hand along your thigh. 

“How ever it doesn't hurt me. I need it.” Your eyes are already closed and you have your good hand in his hair, twirling the curls gently in your fingers. 

Din spreads your thighs with his hands gently and crawls between your legs. He lays on his stomach and brings his mouth to you carefully. The warm breath he lets out against your pussy sends a painful shiver through you. You don’t care, after the day you had you needed him. You need some sort of release and you need Din to give it to you. You did save his life after all. He kisses your slit gently before pushing his tongue inside your folds. He wraps his mouth around you and slowly swirls his tongue around you in those lazy meaningless spins. His arms wrap underneath your legs and he rubs the tops of your thighs with his fingertips gently. 

“Din.” You breathe out as your fingers continue to twirl around in his hair. “Yes.” Din laps at you lazily, just making you feel good, making every bad pain go away with his tongue. You try rocking your hips against his mouth but it makes you whimper in pain when shooting stabbing pain rips up your spine. You settle your hips and just let Din work on you. 

Din’s hands grip the top of your thighs and he spreads you open a little more, listening for any sounds of discomfort before he continues. Now, Din leans forward and puts a little more pressure against your clit with his tongue. He flicks the muscle against your nub fast, you can hear it in the darkness of your bedroom. Your hand grips his hair tighter as he pulls you against his mouth as he pushes forward against you. 

“Fuck.” You moan softly, tugging gently on his hair as he tightens his mouth around your clit and starts to suck gently. “ Yes.” It’s exactly what you wanted. Your words make him work a little faster, suck a little harder. His hands stay gripping your thighs as he licks your soaking cunt. 

“So wet.” Din pants before returning to your middle. His flat tongue drags along your opening and back up to your clit before he wraps his mouth around you again and moves in those tight circles you love but slow. All of his attention is focused right on your clit but he’s moving so leisurely. 

“Please.” It’s begging, it comes out throaty and desperate as he’s compelled to grant to your plea, he quickens his pace. “I need it so bad.” You groan as that warm feeling inside of you starts to grow. “Yes, please don’t stop.” Din had no plans to. He wanted to make you feel good for what you did for him today, you can tell in the way he’s about to make you come. He can tell he’s about to make you come the way you're panting and pulling his hair. 

Din pushes into you a little harder and his hands grip your thighs tighter as he spins fast, tight circles around your clit. You want to lift your hips to his mouth so bad, push back against his tongue. You try again and it’s still stabbing pain, you groan but the pleasure is building. It’s like Din can feel your frustration in your pussy and so he starts to moan against you and those vibrations from his mouth are what send you over the edge.

All the pain, all the sad wash away— even if it’s only for a couple moments it's amazing. The bliss washes over you and now the stabbing pain in your back doesn’t matter for forty seconds. Din keeps licking you, keeps swirling around you as you praise him breathlessly for what he just did to you. 

“Yes. Din. Yes…  You’re amazing.” You’re panting as you let your hips carefully find the mat underneath you. “You’re really amazing.” You pant again. You are waiting for him to come and kiss you but he stays between your legs, licking and slurping the orgasm out of you noisily. 

“Can I do it again?” Din asks from between your legs in the dark but you’re already half asleep.

“Mhm.” You mumble with your eyes closed. Din starts to sit up but you stop him. “No, do it. I want you to do it while I sleep.” You murmur, Din hesitates, like doesn’t know if he can trust you in your sleepiness but you reach for him in the dark with your good arm. You brush up against his stomach. “Do it.” You whisper as your fingers drag down his thousand-degree skin. “Please.” 

You’re asleep when Din’s mouth finds you again. He licks you slowly and carefully, not wanting to wake you. You do only wake up again on the verge of another orgasm. Din’s fingers move against your clit while his tongue pushes inside of your entrance. You wiggle your hips against his fingers and mouth as you come softly half asleep. No words come out of you, just breathless sleepy sounds of pleasure. 

Din takes his place beside you. He rests his head on your chest and wraps your good arm around his shoulders before he settles down into you. 

You’re asleep or you think you could be asleep when he’s planting kisses along your collarbone. He’s whispering but you can’t hear him… or can’t understand him.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. Kyr'am Kelir kis'wa mhi. Pal'vut ratiin.” 

Din’s whispering in Mando’a. The words beside ratiin mean nothing to you. You know ratiin means always but you’re also still dreaming so you go back to dreaming about Din speaking Mando’a to you. 

Din was awake and was whispering to you in the dark in his native language and he was professing his love to you. 

“I love you. Death will part us. Mine forever.”  

You fall asleep thinking it was all a dream.

“I have to tell you something. You’re not going to like it.” Din rasps to you as soon as you open your eyes. Your shoulder is aching and your back is as stiff as the beskar on Din’s groin plate. “I’m sorry for upsetting you. In advance.” You groan and attempt to roll over but it’s your bad shoulder side and you can’t. So you just stare into the galaxy in the windows above you. 

“It’s too early.” You groan. Every single fiber inside of you is being torn apart right now. “How do you do this all the time? I cannot move. Not even a little.” You try to turn your head to look at him. 

“I don’t normally get slammed against rocks with no armor on,” Din says flatly. You could punch his helmet. “You should have broken your back with a hit like that.” You do turn your head as much as you can to him and stare. Blinking. 

“It’s not broken?” You’re one hundred percent sure it is. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He shakes his helmet. “You’re sure?” He nods. 

“You had a scan done at Bo-Katans,” Din starts to explain but you widen your eyes. 

“When did we go to Bo-Katans?” You ask Din very seriously. He tilts his helmet at you.

“I should not have let you sleep so long. You have a concussion.” Din rasps and now you’re trying to sit up and everything is telling you to lay back down but you can’t. You have to sit. Din is helping you up with your good arm. You whine softly as you sit on your ass. That’s broken too. Sure is. Everything is. 

“I’ve been asleep for like an hour or two.” You stretch your one good limb which is your non-dominant arm. Wonderful. Feels brand new. Never seen a day of battle in its life, apparently. 

“More like seventeen hours. I’ve been trying to wake you and this is the first time you actually opened your eyes. In seventeen hours.” You blink at Din. You haven’t been sleeping that long. What? “I had to go back and help Bo-Katan. She was attacked by TIE bombers shortly after you fell asleep.” 

“Is Bo-Katan alright?” You’re worried for your best friend. She was so nice the last time you saw her a couple of days ago when she told Din where the mines were. Or apparently seventeen hours ago. You don’t really remember. Everything is blurry. Really the last thing you remember is dying on a monster down in the living waters. There sure was something fucking living in there. You knew it! Called it a while ago and you did jump in, just not for the reason you thought you would have. 

Din nods and holds on to your good shoulder. His helmet, the way it's cocked to the side slightly, looks worried about you. His rasp snaps you out of a trance you're in, looking at yourself in the face visor. You have more cuts now. Ones you don’t even remember getting. One on the bridge of your nose and now a small one just under your right eye. Now you’re cut on both sides of your face. You also have a bruise on your forehead. You do remember that. Din gave you that one by accident.

“She’s alright. She’s following us right now on her ship.” 

“Where is Grogu?” You ask as he stands to leave the room. Din says nothing and just opens the door to your room slowly, only a crack. 

“Remember what I said? You have to be nice to her. Hey!” Din snaps his fingers at the crack in the door. “And be very careful with her.” Din nods down at the crack before he slowly starts to open it. You can hear the child garbling. “Okay. Be gent–” Din can’t even get the words out before Gorgu is through the door and clinging to your waist. That hurts too. It doesn’t matter, you’re so happy he’s safe and that he missed you. Din returns with rations and the biggest canteen of water you’ve personally ever seen. 

As appreciative as you are, you’re so thirsty. You show him how you would need two hands to lift that thing. He sighs and with one hand he lifts it easily and carries it out of the room and returns with a much more manageable sized canteen and you eat every ration crumb.

“Okay. Bad news," Din says, sitting down on the floor next to you. 

“Lay it on me, I’ll probably forget anyway.” You shake the crumbs out of the packet of crackers into your mouth. 

“We have to go see my clan,” Din explains. You sigh. Not the angry scary helmeted woman again. She was not as nice as Bo-Katan was to you. She didn’t even acknowledge you. Din didn’t introduce you but whatever, same difference. She wasn’t very nice. She basically yelled at Din. “You’re going to have to talk to The Armorer.” 

“Which one is that?” You raise an eyebrow, afraid of the answer. 

“The one who I spoke to last time we were here.” His helmet is looking right at you. You groan loudly and sigh. 

“She’s the scariest one!” You groan again. “Okay. What do I have to tell her?”

“What the planet looked like. That you were my witness to redemption.” Your jaw hits the floor. Why do you have to tell her about any of that? She’s probably not even going to believe some pipsqueak like you. Din pushes your jaw closed with his fingers. “It’ll be okay.” 

“When do we have to do that?” You ask curiously. 

“Right now.” 

Din lands the ship while you attempt to get dressed the best you can. You need his help to fasten your pants and your robe but you did everything else by yourself. Even though it hurt. The ramp of the ship drops down and Bo-Katan is standing at the bottom of the ramp with her helmet on. She looks so nice. It’s all so shiny and pretty just like her, Maker, you might want to be Bo-Katan. 

“I’m glad you’re doing alright.” She rasps down to you through her voice modulator. “I hope I didn’t upset you with our talk that night.” Din is so many paces ahead of you he can’t hear. 

“I don’t remember that night, honestly. Din says I have a concussion.” You smile up at her innocently. She nods and touches your back and tells you everything she said that night. In your concussed state, it makes you sad. You think it would have made you sad even if you weren’t concussed. 

“Come no further.” A new unfamiliar voice rasps out from behind the modulator of a man who is bigger than Din Djarin himself. This Mandalorian is standing in front of the mouth of a cave as more Mandalorians appear from within as Bo-Katan helps you up to where Din is standing. “You are an apostate, Din Djarin.”

“No longer.” Din rasps. “I have been to the mines of Mandalore.” Uh, hello, so have you. You went all the way down. To the very fucking bottom and planted your feet right into the wet sand. 

“Impossible. The mines were collapsed in the purge.” The bigger man crosses his arms across his chest and shakes his helmet from side to side slowly. 

“No. They’re still there. Way far down.” You say from behind Din. Every single helmet including Din’s and Bo-Katan’s turns to look at you. You give everyone a small wave. 

“I saw them. I was there too.” You smile happily. Something… is wrong with you. The medic droids at Bo-Katan’s obviously did not scan you because if they had, they would have seen that your brain fell right the fuck out onto that bug-robot’s sandy floor. Is probably still there right now. 

“The planet is cursed, dala.” The man speaks a word of mando’a to you but you don’t know that word. What the fuck did he just say to you? You reach with your left hand for the lightsaber on your waistband and every single Mandalorian there pulls a weapon and points it at you. Din holds his hands up and steps between you two. 

“Dala is a woman,” Bo-Katan whispers into your ear through the modulator and now everything is fine because you are a woman. You remove your hand from your lightsaber and stand as tall as you can but your back hurts so you stay hunched over, just a little. 

“They speak the truth. Both of them.” Bo-Katan speaks up, trying to diffuse the situation. 

“And who are you, Night Owl.” The bigger man asks, arms crossing over his chest again now that he knows you aren’t a threat with Din between the two of you. He does peer over Din’s shoulder at you twice though. You stare at him each time. 

Your brain is broken. Bro-ken. Why are you looking at that man that way? 

“I am Bo-Katan. Of Clan Kryze.” She steps forward, away from your side and next to Din. You’re now blocked away from everyone. Hidden. You hate it and move your way to Din’s other side and now, you are closer to the bigger man. He takes a step to the side, closer to Bo-Katan. 

“You are both apostates. Your House has fallen from The Way.” The bigger man shakes his head from side to side at her slowly. He better back away from your best friend, seriously. He’s getting too close to her and you are itching to use your lightsaber. You got a taste of it and now you’re hungry for more. 

Okay, calm down. You’re angry. Angry about what Bo-Katan re-informed your broken brain of. Now, here you are standing in front of a Clan that made him an apostate, just for looking at his son. So devoted to them. It made you mad… and jealous. 

“I have proof.” Din holds out a little silver tube. Did he get that while you were dead on the rubble of the mines before or after he tried so long to resuscitate you? Hmph. Din looks down at you. Did you make that sound out loud? You didn’t mean to. 

The clan led the five of you, everyone came along. Grogu and R5 too, further into the belly of the cave. It’s a long walk like before and you’re tired. You could honestly lay right down in the sand and sleep for another seventeen hours. Finally, they lead you through the room you were in before and even further into the cave. 

Finally, a place to sit. You sigh as you sit before everyone else. No one else ever sits beside The Armorer. Her helmet is faced right in your seated direction. You’ve known helmets long enough to know that when they’re looking in your direction this long, they are one hundred percent staring at you. Din sighs as you lean back in the chair he’s standing beside. There are enough seats for everyone, you don’t know why everyone is so happy standing. 

“Din Djarin claims to have bathed in the Living Waters.” The bigger man who Din called Paz while you walked, says like Din is lying. You lean back as far in your chair as you can go to look at him angrily. Din is not lying and Paz better shut his mouth before you get your lightsaber out.

“I have proof.” Din holds out the silver metal tube to The Armorer. She takes it in her hand and inspects it carefully. Then Din points to you. “She’s my witness.” You nod your head and smile like you’re proud of yourself. 

“I jumped right in after him when his ass sunk to the bottom.” You nod again and rest your good arm on the back of the chair you’re in. It’s very comfortable. Din places the forehead of his helmet in his hand. While you spoke the woman poured the water from the silver tube into a machine that showed a hologram that you couldn’t understand because it was backward and also in Mando’a. 

“These are the Living Waters.” The Armorer sounds a little dismayed. “He speaks the truth. Din Djarin you are redeemed.” Then she looks at you and cocks her head to the side. “And who are you, honorable dala?” The Armorer sounds so sweet now. What is it with the Mandalorians and their scary raspy voices? They all are just a bunch of softies under those helmets really. 

“She’s a burcyan.” Din speaks a word of Mando’a to The Armorer. Bo-Katan and The Armorer herself snap their helmets up to Din's helmet in shock almost. 

“A friend .” The Armorer repeats his words back to you so you can understand. “And where is your helmet?” Your jaw drops and Din places his forehead back into his hand. You think you hear Bo-Katan chuckling. 

“I’m not Mandalorian.” You gape up at the helmeted woman in front of you. “I don’t have a helmet.” The woman looks back to Din and tilts her head. 

“You didn’t bring her here to swear into the clan?” 

Your jaw actually breaks your sternum; it drops so far down from the rest of your face. 

“What!? I could do that right now?” You exclaim. Bo-Katan is laughing beside you now and Din is actually walking out of the room. You turn your head to see where he is going because this is good. Is it not? 

“You bathed in the mines of Mandalore. You could swear the Creed now, in the lake. You could get your own helmet.” You are flabbergasted right now. Where the fuck is Din? Why does he not want to be here for this amazing news? You look at Bo-Katan who is trying to settle her laughter. 

“Why are you laughing and why did Din leave?” You whisper up to her. She leans down and rasps in his ear. 

“Because I warned him of this and he didn’t listen.” She starts to laugh again. That is kind of funny, actually. You don’t really know why but you chuckle. 

“I would love to. But I have a pretty bad concussion right now from saving that guy out there.” You look back to The Armorer. “I think I have to go… ask permission… from my friend.” You blink at her. She motions her hand to the door and you need Bo-Katan’s help getting out of the chair. 

Din isn’t in the big room or the walkway of the cave. He’s back at the entrance, looking into the lake. He doesn’t move or look at you when you stand beside him. 

“Why’d you walk out? Isn’t that good news?” You ask, looking up at his helmet. This was something to be celebrated and he's acting like someone just kicked him in the beskar groin plate. 

“I don’t want you to wear a helmet or swear the Creed into the clan.” Din rasps. Oh. That’s not what you thought he was going to say. It makes your heart hurt a little. 

“Why?” It’s asked simply because how else would you ask? Sob on the ground like a child? No. 

“I don’t want you to. It’ll change you. I like who you are without a helmet. I like to look at you” That’s very bold coming from a man in a fucking helmet. Anger bubbles within you and the words Bo-Katan spoke to you come to your head. Devoted to his clan and his creed. 

You pull the best Mando Spesh you got and say nothing. Absolutely nothing. People start to emerge from the cave after a while and carry about their normal day-to-day routine. You end up going back to the ship because why hang out with a bunch of Mandalorians if you can’t spar with them and they all look at you with their cool helmets and it makes you sad. 

The ship is so quiet with no one else on board. Just you and R5 now. Hanging out. You get sadder. This is your future. Alone with the droid probably. While Din and Grogu and probably Bo-Katan go and do cool Mandalorian things together. You’ll be stuck here, giving R5 an oil bath.

The rumble of Bo-Katan’s ship makes you run to the cockpit to look out the window and she’s leaving. Where is she going? 

“There you are.” A familiar rasp says from behind you. It’s The Armorer. “I wondered where you limped off to.” She sounds like she could be smiling under the helmet. You don’t know. You’re concussed. “Did you talk to your friend?” She asks, sitting down in the co-pilot’s seat as you sit in the big Pilot’s chair. Din’s chair. 

“Yeah. He said I can’t.” You look over at her with a disappointed smile.

She shakes her helmet from side to side as if she is disappointed. “Shame. Bo-Katan told me of all your amazing feats down in those mines. The cyborg. How you saved Din Djarin. It was very brave.” The Armorer’s helmet looks over to you now. “You’d make a good Mandalorian.” She nods her helmet once.

“Someone once told me I’d make a good Jedi if only I had the force in me.” You smile at her innocently because Ahsoka did tell you that, and you don’t know what else to say.

The Armorer chuckles at you. “I heard that you trained with the Jedi. That you have a lightsaber made of beskar .” She sounds intrigued. You hand unhook the saber from your belt and hand it to her to inspect. “It’s beautiful. And your friend got it for you?”

“Why do you keep saying it like that?” You look at her through squinted eyes. “ Friend.” You’d like to know why she keeps saying it like you aren’t actually friends. And why Bo-Katan and her looked at Din when he called you that? It definitely didn’t feel great, knowing that’s what he’s calling to people but she didn’t have to keep saying it like that. 

“It was just an interesting word choice, from what I’ve heard—”

“You keep saying you’re hearing things and I’d just like to know who is telling you this stuff?” The Armorer laughs at you. A real laugh. 

“Small one, do you not think you’re spoken about throughout the galaxy? The human girl who trained with Jedi? Who wields her own saber?” The Armorer continues to inspect your lightsaber in her hands. “Special girl. Din Djarin hid you away for a reason. I must know what it is.” She hands the saber back to you and stands. “The choice isn’t his to make, by the way. Follow me.” 

She leads you further into the cave than you’ve ever been. 

“Where did Bo-Katan go?” You ask while you and Grogu follow behind her. 

“They had things to take care of.” The helmeted woman says simply like you should know. 

“They?” Who the heck is they ? 

“Din Djarin and Paz Vizsla went with Bo-Katan.” She’s not interested in talking about them anymore. 

“This is the forge.” She leads you and Grogu to a large stone circle with blue flames shooting up from around the edge. You pick Grogu up and watch as she begins to forge beskar right in front of you. “This is the heart of Mandalorian culture.” She tilts her helmet to look at you. “Just as we shape the Mandalorian steel, we shape ourselves. We all begin as raw ore… We refine ourselves with trials and adversity. ” She turns her helmet back to the forge. 

You think of all the trials and adversity you’ve faced in your life. A mother who died poor on the streets of Coruscant. An aunt who wasn’t your aunt who kicked you onto the streets of Canto Bight once you were old enough to care for yourself. No father. Sleeping on the streets yourself most nights until you scraped together enough money to rent a room. Then you worked at the casino, barely making enough to get by. Now all these things you were doing would be counted as trials and adversities, right? 

“It is Mandalorian culture for each to donate a small portion to the foundling. It is with these scraps that I forged your next piece of armor.” The Armorer hands Grogu a round flat piece of beskar. “Mandalorian armor will help you grow stronger. You will grow into this roundel as you grow into your station, foundling Grogu.” He holds it in his hands carefully and nods up to the helmeted woman in thanks.

You love that she brought you in here to witness Grogu get his next piece of armor. It makes your heart feel full. You love the child more than you ever thought you could. It was as if he was your own. 

“I forged this for you with my own beskar.” The Armorer says but you don’t bother looking up because you want to see Grogu receive his next piece of armor. She clears her throat after a moment and when you snap your head to her and she is holding out a black beskar helmet.

It looks nothing like Din’s, and you like that. Yours has three small slashes going across the left cheek, just like where your mechnosutures are on your face. The visor, instead of a T across the forehead and down the nose, is just a straight black line across the eyes. You can barely tell it's there. It's just pure black beskar with three silver scratches down the cheek and when you move the helmet from side to side, there is another under the right eye as well, where a new scar will form. It’s so shiny and even has a light on it. You can see it from here like Bo-Katan’s helmet. 

“Why?” You ask her, still not reaching for it because you don’t believe that she’s actually handing it to you. 

“For when you swear the creed.” She says simply. Your heart dies inside because you know you can’t. Din would be mad. So mad if you did that. Do you even care though? Do you really even care what Din Djarin wants? “Take it.” 

Your hands touch it for the first time and it almost feels like it might still be warm from the Forge. It's so heavy in your hands. You've never held one, only worn one on your head the one time. The helmet shines in the light again and you can see your reflection in the whole thing. Not just the visor. All of it, it's that shiny. It'll look so good with your freaking lightsaber, holy shit. It's the coolest thing you've ever touched besides the fucking darksaber. That was unmatched, unparalleled power in your hands. This feels special. It feels good as you hold it.

“It was mine once. I redesigned the outside for you. More fitting.” You look up to her and she’s scratching at her cheek with three fingers and one under her eye.

You can't hide your smirk because that is your least ferocious battle scar, but it works because you’re stuck with them. Maybe you should tell her that. Would she think it was funny? Because it kind of was now, after the fact. Sometimes. Most of the time you're still upset that he scarred you. The bacta therapy did not work as well as you had hoped. 

“I’m so honored.” You sigh disappointedly. “I can’t accept this. I don’t think I can swear the Creed. I care about Din and I don’t want him to be mad at me and possibly lose the gig I got on the ship and everything.” Your concussed brain is just letting it all out.

She shakes her hands at you, motioning for you to keep it anyway, she doesn't want it back. “It’s a gift. From me to you. Creed or not; you are brave, honorable, and loyal." She touches your good shoulder. “Don’t put it on until you leave, small one.” You nod and hold the shiny black metal helmet in your hand excitedly. You turn and see the monster on the wall behind you.

“That’s a mythosaur. I saw one of those down in the Living Waters.” You point to the black skull hanging on the wall. “The one I saw was way bigger.” You sigh and carefully put the helmet under your good arm. 

“You’re lucky to have seen a vision. It’s a very noble one to have.” She keeps her hand on your good shoulder as you two turn to leave. Noble? Vision? She just called you honorable and brave and now she's trying to downplay this amazing thing you saw. Din and Bo-Katan could barely believe it.

“I don’t think it was a vision.” You explain to her that when you slipped off Gogu’s orb and sank back down to the bottom, you didn’t land back on the sand and rubble. You landed on the mythosaur and it returned you and Din to the surface.

“It sounds like a vision, small dala.” She walks with you slowly, keeping with your pace. “The mythosaurs are all gone.” She sounds like she feels bad for you, for seeing things with your dumb, dying brain.

You don't blame her. You thought it was a hallucination until you awoke and started throwing up the Living Waters. You wonder if you should tell her that you ingested some and see if that makes you already sworn into the clan, like if you drink it does that just make you a part of the whole culture? Surprisingly you keep that to yourself. She's still pretty scary even though she was so much nicer this time. You wonder if it has anything to do with the state you're in. Battered and bruised. Partially dislocated and then fully dislocated and then popped back in again. Broken.

“I saw it. I’m telling you,” you turn to look directly into her helmet. “On all the honor and things you said I had back there; I saw it with my own eyes. I laid down and died for a moment on its scales. My hands touched it.” You're not sure if you're doing enough to make her believe what you saw down there.

She stays quiet just like everyone else in a helmet. The Armorer says nothing as she escorts you back to the ship.

Din never even said goodbye? And now you’re on the ship with Grogu and R5 without him. And it’s dark out. You and Grogu eat dinner together quietly and you walk him to his room, cradling him in your good arm. 

“I love you.” You coo the words down to him for the first time since you’ve known him. When you speak it to him it feels like a weight’s been lifted off of him and he sighs softly, nuzzling into your hand as you pet his forehead. He grabs your fingers with his little razor claws and pulls your hand closer and kisses the palm of it softly. It melts your heart. You’re glad you told him. 

The floor bed feels so empty without Din beside you. Exhaustion was threatening to make you fall asleep in the sand earlier and now, you can’t even close your eyes because you don’t know where Din is. The next morning he’s still gone. You lay on the closed up ship most of the day, looking at your new helmet. You thought you’d be more excited when you got one but it doesn’t feel good. It feels sad. Everything does. 

The sound of the ship's ramp opening makes your heart flutter. You can hear Din walking down the hall before you can get off the floor to go meet him. You’re working on pulling yourself to your feet with a little help of the bed next to you when he rushes in to help you up. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye yesterday. A foundling was taken by a raptor.” Din explains while you get to your feet. He presses his helmet to your forehead softly. 

“It’s fine. Is the child alright? Did you get him back?” Din nods at your question and sees the helmet on the ground next to you.

“You didn’t.” His rasp sounds shocked. “And you already took it off?” He sounds mad now. You furrow your eyebrows at him. 

“I didn’t swear the creed, you swamprat.” You shake your head at him from side to side. “It was a gift from The Armorer when I told her my friend wouldn’t let me.” You frown at him now and remember all the reasons you’re upset with him. 

“Bo-Katan told me that you’re devo-” 

“I know what Bo-Katan told you. I overheard that night.” Din rasps and you sigh loudly. You’re becoming more angry with him. “Come on. I have to move the ship. Come with me.” Din grabs your hand before you can protest and leads you into the cockpit. 

“I hope you know that you are… high on my list of priorities.” Din rasps softly after you sit down in the co-pilot’s chair. You grimace, not wanting to think about it. You had almost just forgotten about your anger watching him hold your hand and because you’re still concussed pretty badly.

“We don’t have to talk about it.” You look out the window while you say it. “We really don’t.” Din sighs from under his helmet and looks over at you. 

“I just want you to know that what Bo-Katan said is–” 

“True? I know. I’ve known for a while. You are devoted to your creed and your clan and that’s fine with me. I don’t have anything but you and the child and now R5 to be devoted to, it’s just frustrating to think of it that way. It makes me feel… useless. What good am I if you three aren’t around?” More non-filtered word garbage that falls out of your mouth because you don’t know how to control yourself with this concussion. All the thoughts that would normally just stay thoughts are piling up in your lap as they fall out of your mouth. 

Din is silent. You don’t say anything back either. Bo-Katan used that word devoted. Devoted to his creed, his clan. It hurt you when she said that. Both times you think. You had nothing to be devoted to. Not a religion. Not a clan. Not even a family up until now and you just feel stupid for it. Stupid for being so devoted to a man who isn’t even as devoted to you.

“I like you being devoted to-” Din rasps but you snap your head to him even though it hurts. 

“Of course you do.” You snap. “Who wouldn’t!? You trapped me in the Razor Crest and never let me leave and made me fall in love with you and now, I’d follow you down into the mines of Mand’alor apparently and get my back broken by some giant robot bug.” You sigh and look forward out the window again. “ You like me being devoted to you.” You audibly hmph from next to Din, loud enough for him to hear. He stays quiet for a minute, just looking over at you. 

“Trapped you?” Din sounds confused. “You asked–” 

“I know what I asked for. You still locked me up for ages and wouldn’t let me leave.” You snap at him angrily. “I have no friends! Just Bo-Katan! She’s the only one and I just got her.” You snap angrily. You were missing him so much last night and now, you wish he’d stop rasping out of the modulator and just let you go back to sleep. Din brought it up. You would have forgotten with your concussed brain had he not said anything. You would have sat down in the cockpit all happy and stupid. 

“You love me?” Din asks after a while. You look at him with your eyebrows furrowed.

“Who told you that?” You snip, still angry with him for whatever reason your broken-brain is telling you to be angry. None of that bothered you. Not until Bo-Katan opened her mouth. Din’s helmet turns rapidly side to side like he can’t believe what you just asked him. Like he was looking around the room for a witness that wasn’t there. It was just the two of you in this stupid cockpit.

“You did!?” You raise an eyebrow at his questioned statement. “Just a second ago.” 

“No I didn’t.” You turn your head forward again, looking out the window. Did you? You don’t remember saying that. You just remember… angry. Only the emotion, none of the things you just said. “I did not say that.” You snap. 

“You did too.” Din snaps back at you. “Said it yourself.” He turns his head to look forward as well and then it’s just quiet in the cockpit.

“Didn’t . I’m upset with you–” You go to turn your nose up at him but he cuts you off. 

“You can’t be upset with me. It’s one of the rules, remember?”

You stare at him now, blinking. He must be practicing for his new comedy set at the casino tonight. You do love him. Right now and for a while you have. It makes you sick to your stomach now for some reason. You hate that you love him. 

“I don’t follow the rules.” It comes out quick so he can’t interrupt you and now, you turn your nose up to him and look away. Another hmph comes out of your mouth. 

“You’re a brat.” Din shakes his head and presses a button on the dash for the first time since you guys sat down. You pretend to not be paying attention. “Pretty. But a brat.” You try hard to hold back the smile curling on your lips. Because if you’re a brat, Din made you one. You didn’t expect anything from him besides the credits you earned at the end of the week before you started doing it for free. You were not a brat two years ago when he dropped you off at the temple. Nope. If you were, it got beaten out of you by Ahsoka. 

You stay silent. Mostly because you don’t have a good comeback for him. Also, you don’t want to hear his rasping modulator voice in your ear anymore. Din presses buttons on the dash and checks meters and screens and looks so dumb while he does it. Not really. You’re just still mad, for whatever reason. You need a nap. You’re just grumpy. Or are you really upset? It’s hard to tell your brain feels like it’s covered in a thick layer of Grogu’s mouth slime. Everything feels kind of fuzzy and slow. You feel heavy. Your mouth feels like it has marbles in it most of the time. 

“Are you still upset with me?” Din says after a while. You shrug your one good shoulder but it’s on his side so he can see at least. 

“I don’t even know if I was actually upset with you to begin with. I don’t know what I’m feeling.” You want to say more but you hold back because a new thought just came into your brain but nothing about saying it would be constructive to your relationship with Din or to yourself. “I just thought you’d care about me more one day. And I think I just realized that is not going to happen.” You say it anyway, because of your broken fucking brain. You could die right here, you hope you do, you hope your brain is bleeding out and you don’t have to hear the response from the helmet to that stupid fucking thing you just said.

You stand up slowly from the chair you're in with a groan. Din watches you but says nothing. Of course. It’s good though, you didn’t want him to say anything. Maybe he didn’t hear you. You leave the cockpit in silence and make your way back to your room. You take all the blankets and your mat back to your bed and crawl into it and lay looking up at the sky above whatever planet you're stuck on with the Mandalorians. 

Tears come. Big, hot stupid tears that roll down the side of your face and into your ears. You do your best to keep them from reaching the canals but you only have the one hand, and they’re coming from both eyes so fast. You feel so stupid. A fool for opening your mouth and a fool for even ever having that thought in your head. 

Happily you would go back to Canto Bight if that’s where he wanted to take you. The thoughts of meeting someone and getting married and having children one day is always something you wanted. It obviously got put on the backburner when you decided to take this new job– a traveling job. You thought you’d get a night off every once in a while or you’d get to meet people– to possibly meet and get married to and have a child of your own with one day.

Din DID keep you locked away, starved of touch and attention and now you were mad at him for that. He showed you his face, yes, you know he cares for you but were your feelings for him true and real? You would have died for him, you almost did trying to save him. You don’t know if that constitutes love or insanity. Nothing feels right anymore and your head hurts now, your brain hurts. It’s broken and you’re trying to use it for the first time apparently and it hurts now. 

Grogu babbles from the side of your bed. You let your left arm dangle and he crawls up it. It hurts, he’s using his little claws but you don’t care. You bring him into your side and snuggle into him. 

“And one day you’ll be devoted to the creed and the clan too and it’ll just be me and R5.” You whisper down to him as tears continue their path down into your ear canals. You don’t even try to stop them anymore. This was worse than when Din shoved credits into your chest after the market. You wept that day, all day long you remember it like it was yesterday. You’re sobbing now. You can’t help it. Everything hurts and now you’re sad. Grogu crawls onto your chest and nuzzles into your neck gently. You bring your good hand up to his back and hold him while you cry. 

When you wake up, it’s dark in the ship and Grogu is gone. Din’s not in your bed. The tears are in your eyes before you even open them. The lack of body heat next to you hurts worse than any of the physical pain you feel. You swing your legs out of bed and wrap the blankets back around you the best you can. 

Silently, in the dark you feel your way to the door. It’s dark in the entire ship when the door opens. You sigh and shut it before you turn the light on so you don’t risk taking a peek at Din who is asleep in his bed. You get your orange candy from the cupboard and sit at the table in the dining area. You don’t even really want to eat anything but your mouth is so dry and you need something other than the fuzzy feeling on your tongue. 

You woke up still loving Din. The anger has left you and now you’re just sad. Full of it. It’s consuming you. What does your future with this man hold if he won’t let you swear the creed or join his clan? What does that mean for you?

“Can’t sleep?” Din’s rasp scares you from the hallway that leads to your bedroom.

You shrug your one good shoulder and pop another candy into your mouth.

“Well I can’t sleep.” Din walks to the table and sits down across from you.

It’s hard to avoid looking at his helmet, but you do your best because you don’t know what to say and if you look at him, the words you don’t want to say will start to come out. 

“What are you expecting of me?” Din asks softly from behind the helmet. The response you want to give and the one you actually give are two different things.

“Nothing.” You whisper, you still haven’t looked at him. “Literally, nothing.” You roll a candy in between your fingers slowly. 

“You’re lying.” Din rasps softly. 

“What do you expect from me?” You return the question back to him now. Because you’re not really sure anymore, honestly. You finally look up at his helmet and he’s shaking it from side to side slowly. “Right. Also nothing.” You huff softly and roll your eyes. 

“I expect you to be on the floor when I come to bed. You were not.” This curls the corners of your lips into a smirk when he says it. “I was disappointed… to not sleep on the floor.” You smirk now and Din reaches across the table. “Do you still want to be here? With me? On the floor?” You nod at him. Din is the most lovely man you’ve met and maybe it was just Maker’s plan for you to meet the way you did. “Then let us go sleep on the floor together. Like always and until forever?” It’s a question as Din holds his hands out to yours. 

Din unwraps you from the blanket you’re in after he sets up your mats on the floor alongside each other. His hands guide you down to the floor carefully. 

“Can I make you feel good?” Din’s unmodulated voice in the dark whispers into your ear. 

“Please.” You need to feel his heat against you. You miss it. 

Din places his hips between yours and slides his already erect cock along your slit. He moves so slow that he’s quivering above you. His chest drops down to yours gently and he kisses your lips softer. 

“I love you.” It’s barely a whisper against your mouth. “I’m devoted to you.” Din kisses you again before you can register what he’s just said to you. Din rocks his hips forward inches at a time while his cock nestles harder against your quickly soaking slit. He’s ten-million-degrees like always and it feels so good. He passes his heat along to you as he pulls back, just as slow. You’re kissing Din harder than you’ve ever kissed anyone in your whole life and he’s fighting you for dominance, he wants to kiss you harder, his tongue needs to be further into your mouth. Din is winning, hes’ overtaking you, pushing your head back into your pillow as his tongue swirls around yours. 

The head of his cock drags down into your folds and presses up against your entrance, he hesitates. Din is still kissing you, he’s dropped down to his elbow and has one hand in your hair, holding it so gently as his tongue swirls around yours now lazily that he’s got you pushed back into the pillows, on top of you. Din slips the tip of himself into you and then stops. He pulls away from your kiss reluctantly at the sound of your protest. 

“I love you too.” You whimper up to him as his lips leave yours. “So much.” You wrap your left arm around the back of his neck and snake your fingers up into his hair. “I’m sorry I’m a brat–” Din pushes the rest of himself inside of you and kisses you again before you can finish. He goes back to those slow lazy kisses. He’s timing the swirl of his tongue around yours to his hips thrusting inside of you and something about it has your head spinning as you try and pull him closer into you. It’s impossible, Din is as close to you as he can get, he’s literally inside of you but you arch your back so you can press your chest into his. You don’t care that it hurts, you need to be closer to him, need to be pressed into him as tightly as you can be. 

This wasn’t like the last two times he was inside of you. No, the last times he was inside you it was like the man couldn’t be contained, couldn’t control himself. These were the gentle and patient movements of a man who cares and loves the woman below him. These kisses were unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You two were just sharing each other's breath while you embraced. 

Din’s hips start to thrust slowly. He’s panting when you pull away from the kisses to moan softly. You’re also panting, all of your air is in Din’s lungs. You’ll share your air with him forever, you don’t care. He can have it. All the puzzle pieces just fell into place when Din said those words you were so desperate to hear. You didn’t even know you needed to hear them so badly. 

“I want you to have my Mandalorian children.” Din whispers to you as he rolls his hips into you gently. “ I want that. Badly. ” The words quiver as they come out of him, like it’s something he’s wanted and now could possibly get, if only you said yes. You push your hips up into his and nod against his forehead, pushing your lips against his. You let out an agreeable moan against his mouth. Everything about how your body reacted to his statement screamed yes. Din felt the yes come out of you silently in his hands and against his chest and in his hips when you pushed back against him. 

Din rocked his hips like that against yours, his head moving from between kissing your neck and shoulder to kissing your lips and jaw. He kisses you everywhere he could reach while still being inside of you. He’d whisper Mando’a into your ear; what he whispered to you the night when you thought you were dreaming. Then he repeated it back to you so you could understand him. 

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.  Kyr'am Kelir kis'wa mhi.  Pal'vut ratiin. I love you. Death will part us. Mine always.” It’s whispered so softly you think you might be dreaming again and have to pull away to look at Din in the dark even though you cannot see him. “Death is the only thing that could keep me away from you.” He coos down to you through the void. 

“I’d follow you into the afterlife.” You murmur back as his hips start to rock into yours more forcefully. “I’d follow you anywhere. ” Your hand in his hair tightens gently as he presses his face into the crook of your neck. Din’s panting as he tries to hold back. 

“I can’t anymore.” Din groans into your neck like he’s frustrated. His hips start bucking into yours with more force. “It’s too good–too p-perfect.” It’s strained like he’s been holding it in for so long. Everything inside of you is telling to stop but the feeling between your legs is roaring to keep going. It's drowning out all the pain as he drives himself into you now with more speed. “Y-You’re too b-beautiful.” 

You find release in those hard, fast thrust into your aching cunt. You didn’t realize how badly you needed this. Your cunt clenches down onto him as you come and it pulls the most vulgar sound you’ve ever heard out of him. You have to bite your lip at the noise he just made because it made another wave of pleasure wash over you as he drives his hips into yours one last time. 

“Fuuck.” Din growls into your shoulder. “It’s so good.” He’s groaning, and you can feel him coming inside of you, pumping you full of his Mandalorian seed with meaning. “Fuck. I’m going to do that forever.” He declares as he slowly pulls himself from within you. “Are you hungry? I’m starving.” Din sighs down at you in the dark. You’re still reeling from what just happened. 

You and Din just had a whole conversation while you got nailed in the most romantic fashion. Professed your love for one another, and now, he’s asking if you’d like to share a ration? There is so much you want to say. So much you want to talk about. Din’s padded footsteps in the dark, and then the door are the only sounds you hear until he’s back, sitting on the ground next to you handing you a cracker. 

“Eat. You need it.” Din is munching on something in the dark, talking over whatever he’s got in his mouth. 

“I honestly didn’t think you actually ate anything. Ever.” You say into the void as you take the cracker he’s nudging all around your hand trying to find your palm. Din chuckles and you hear him take another bite of whatever it is he's eating. 

“I eat your orange candies while you sleep.” Din chuckles again. You gasp before you can take a bite of the cracker.

“Are you serious?” You ask into the dark and await a response. Din just laughs. “Because I’ve been blaming Grogu. Every day I blame him for it. You’ve listened to me blame him for taking it!” You exclaim. 

“He’s the perfect cover. Can’t talk. Is a child. Loves candy. ” Din admits to you from within the darkness through more chuckles. You gasp again. 

“You really are a big beskar-wearin’ lying sonofabitch!” You are in shock. It’s such an innocent thing to lie about. Grogu never got in trouble, just a ‘really?’ when you hold up the quickly dwindling bag of candy in front of him. “What else do you lie about, Din Djarin?” You leer into the darkness, waiting. It stays quiet for a long time. “Liyin’ Din Djarin should be your name.” You tease. 

Din can’t even stifle his laugh, he tries but it doesn’t work and you too laugh in the darkness together for a couple minutes. It feels good to laugh with Din like this. 

“I’m sorry for the things I said to you. You didn’t trap me. I stayed because I liked being on the ship. I liked my mat.” You’re honest with Din, you did love being on the Crest with him and Grogu and as mean as he was in the start you did miss him when he was gone. You always felt safe when he was around. “You’re very good to me. Keep me safe.” You reach for him in the dark and touch his shin. “I appreciate you very much. I don’t think I tell you that, ever. Thank you.”

Din lets you speak and crunches on what sound like crackers in the dark while you talk to him. “Anything for you.” Din says as he crawls into the sheets beside you. “I'd do anything.”

tag list: @thereaperisabitch @pedrospookie @furiousmushroom @creepycorbeaux @harriedandharassed @realmamabear79 @blahkateisdone @picketniffler @cheekychaos28 @lilac-boo @pedrostories @wandamaximoff4578 @probablyreadinsmut @katw474 @cowboy-like-m3 @gummy-dummy

[laswells-ashtray]

I’m scrolling through your blog like a creeeeeeperrrr just yeah and I saw the autism Kate and motorbike Rudy and can we get more?

AUTISM KATE WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Okay, I'm calm and collected.

Like it is for a lot of women, Kate's autism goes unnoticed by anyone who doesn't know her closely. She prefers it that way. hell, Shepherd doesn't know and she works far too closely with him.

But some of the others know.

John had never really considered it until the porridge incident years back, Kate had stayed at his and he made them both porridge for breakfast [at 11am, they'd been drinking the night before]. Kate had taken one spoonful of it and looked positively revolted but she'd swallowed it down without complaint. John asked her at the time what the issue was and if she preferred it sweeter or had a specific taste. She had insisted it was fine. He'd watched her force down two more spoonfuls before thieving it back from her until she fessed up that it was a texture issue.

John stared at her blankly for a solid forty seconds and she mentally prepared for some lecture about how she was too old to be complaining about things like that. The Englishman simply responded with "Toast?"

He didn't care, he was more offended that she didn't feel like she could tell him. He'll never judge and he has thrown a punch at a man once while drunk in a pub because the guy had been casually throwing around an ableist slur while talking about autism and other things.

Will get her started talking about birds when they're drunk and will leave remembering none of it, they have the same conversation every time and it's great fun for both of them.

When Simon learns she's autistic he says nothing, and then when John lets it slip that Kate's birthday is coming up he perks up but says nothing. That year she gets a weighted blanket in a nice blue with no note. Eventually, Simon lets it slip to John that it was him. Joseph had been autistic and he's always liked the soft texture with the weight to keep him calm and comfortable. He thought Kate might like the same but he wasn't sure if they were close enough to give it to her so he sent it anonymously.

John tells Kate and a while later Simon receives a thank-you note with no name and a picture of several cats lying on top of a blue weighted blanket. He keeps them both.

Soap learns Kate has autism and it's a very short interaction.

"Is this why you know so much about The Muppets?"

"Maybe."

"Who was the first every guest st-"

"Juliet Prowse."

"Cool."

Gaz doesn't care, working with an autistic lesbian is just casual to him given that he works with a man in a skull mask, a man with the gayest haircut of all time and a man with the gayest facial hair of all time. Kate is the most competent of all of them, nothing changes that.

Motorbike Rudy, I'm so glad you asked.

He buys an old one second-hand from someone he knew growing up, the man is getting older and can't go out on his bike anymore. He tries to give it to Rudy for free, but Rudy pays him the asking price only doubled. He replaces a few parts just because they're older and he can, he likes the work. It gives him something to do when he isn't working and he likes manual labour. If he sits around aimlessly for too long it makes his skin crawl.

When he finishes fixing the bike, he decides he'll take her for a spin. He'll only be gone for maybe twenty minutes and it's just to get used to her so he doesn't need to tell anyone he's leaving.

Five hours later when he comes home, Alejandro smacks him over the back of the head.

He loves going out in the morning when the sun has just risen and the sky is a picture of oranges and yellows. It's his favourite thing to do outside of the job.

Whenever he gets on the bike [Salma, her name is Salma] Alejandro glares at him until he puts on his helmet. he'd never ride without it, he likes his skull intact, thank you very much. But until the helmet is actually on his head, Alejandro is standing with his arms crossed, glowering at him.

At one point the 141 are back in Las Almas, for casual reasons this time and they see him on the bike. John asks him about the make and model, any work he's done to it and how he takes care of it. Gaz asks him if two people can ride or only one, he isn't jumping for the chance to but he's curious. Soap checks out the bike but he's more curious about Rudy's opinion of it, how he got into bikes as a whole and how he learned to ride.

Ghost turns towards Alejandro but his eyes are glued to Rudy as he stands next to the motorbike.

"Your man looks good on the bike."

"Watch your tongue, hermano."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Ghost likes men on bikes, sue him. It helps that it's Rudy and there's no denying that Rudy is hot.

[punk-in-docs]

🕸️ Pretty Girls Make Graves 🕸️

Eddie x Pencils - 🎃 Halloween 🎃one shot

2.7k words

Summary: pretty much what it says on the tin. Halloween one shot with our dearest Eddie x Pencils. Enjoy. Pure fluff. A tiny suggestion of smut at the end. Inspired by this lovely photo set & this prompt post that got me off my ass to write again.

Also another shoutout to the gorgeous @tvserie-s-world who made this amazing Eddie x Pencils edit that I’m still gooey over. 🖤

“So, what brings you to my dark and creepy neck of the woods?”Came a cocky taunt as soon as the trailer door swung open after your knock.

It’s usual rusty-screeching melody preceding its occupants flirty remark. The sound of the Smiths comes slithering out the creaking door behind him. The tape you bought that got lost in the avalanche of both your cassettes that slide and slip, congregate on his passenger seat.

He will not smile for anyone. And pretty girls make graves.

The lanky shadow of your boyfriend cuts across the warm yellow glow of the lights that slant out the doorway behind him. His costume makes you grin. Sheer moronic love.

You stood halfway up the steps. Candles flickering and throwing dozy pools orange in Jack-o-lanterns across the toes of your boots. They’re all wonky and have imperfect slanted mouths and jagged eyes. Loping together on the uneven porch steps. Fat orange gourds all drunk with gravity.

The very same pumpkins you’d helped him carve a week ago, after a misty morning weekend trip to Merill’s pumpkin farm. Eddie had the rather dastardly and determined habit of choosing pumpkins bigger and heavier than his actual van tires. You ended up with so many.

Your kitchen has smelt like squelchy pumpkin innards all week. You’re still finding seeds cropping up under the toaster or in the corner of the cabinets. As per Eddie’s way with most things, It wasn’t exactly a neat process.

You can’t help but laugh at his greeting too.

“I distinctly remember making plans to invade the spooky neck of your woods tonight, my little death trap.” You smile as you edge your way up the sloping steps. Holding a huge pumpkin shaped bucket of candy in your arms. The contents rustle as you move.

Everyone’s touting pumpkin buckets tonight. Driving in and even on the street back home, you saw a load of elementary kids walking around the park in their costumes. Ghosts in bedsheets. Aliens. Bats. One very ambitious papier maché pumpkin. Superhero’s. Clowns. Home made astronauts clad in crinkly tin foil and bulbous helmets. All wandering with an adult in tow and buckets clutched in their hands, ready to be filled.

You opted for a simple witch costume. Stripy tights and your dark thrifted docs. A black dress with a little cape tied around your shoulders and a witches hat. You applied dark purple-plum lipstick and dark smudgey grey eyeshadow, and liner. Your eyelids glitter like purple constellations. He finds stars to gaze at so often in those pretty eyes.

Eddie had gone for an Alice Cooper inspired look. Top hat. The dripping dark eye makeup that you’re amazed he managed all on his own. Hair it’s usual long rocker mess. Gothic black and lots of it. A huge goth belt with studs and buckles. You spy a cane grasped by his side too. A fake toy snake looped around his neck. Just like the man himself. He really does go all out.

The fringe benefit being he looks hot as hell to your eyes.

“You’ve got me under your spell, O’ bewitching one. How could I possibly resist.” He opened his arms out to you as you came to the last step.

“Bet you say that to every witch who shows up at your door on hallows eve.” You smile. Unashamedly grab the snake that’s looped around his neck and reel him in by it.

“Only ones who bought me jolly ranchers.” He preens. He can see the multi coloured hue of the wrapped candy in the huge bowl you’re carrying.

At the same time, he plucks the flimsy pointed witches hat off your head so the brim doesn’t get in his way. You unconsciously move towards the same goal together. It’s spooky. Sometimes it’s like you have the same brain. You’re one entity mashed together in a frenzy of melding hearts, music mania and relentless adolescent infatuation.

He lopes forwards and gladly slots his slanting smirk onto yours. Tasting of orange sweet candy corn and beer. His thumb and forefinger meet on your chin. Your hand slid for his neck. Fingertips along his jaw as you share a giddying kiss. You mouth at the plushness of his lips. He does the same to you.

You pull back before he makes you swoon dangerously down these steps. His kiss should come with a warning sign; dangerously addictive metal head. May possess body and soul.

You can tell already that you’ll have to wave goodbye to this lipstick. It’s now smeared all around your mouth and most of his. Now he looks like Alice Cooper doing nine to ten in Arkham Asylum.

“Hello.” You beam. Rubbing smudged purple off his lips. Vamptastic Plum the colour name.

“Hi.” He smirks like a lunatic. End of his nose rubbing into yours where he gazes at you.

He does it a lot. It’s honestly so lovesick you should be kinda nauseated.

When you’re studying. Watching a movie. Eating popcorn or pizza. Every now and again he’ll just rest his chin in his hand and smile all warm and stupid at you. Cheeks bunched and crows feet at his eyes. Even when you have paint flecked across your forehead. Or pizza cheese slung in a string across your chin. Or when you’re frowning at your fingers when you smear your nail drying polish. He loves watching you just be near him.

It always ends the same way. You’ll feel his eyes burning their fond cinnamon gaze into you. You’ll turn and meet his eyes. And that smile lopes even wider. He’ll loop a pinky though yours and kiss the back of your hand. Or your forehead.

“Permission to enter your lair?” You seek.

“Thought only vamps had to ask permission to come in?” He flirts with you. Eyes on your mouth again. Your lips all kiss bruised makes him ache. In fact, makes another sort of serpent twitch in his jeans.

“Misdirection. I am actually a vampire. The witch outfit is a clever disguise to work my cunning way into unsuspecting trailers.” You raise your brows naughtily.

He grins. “Clever subterfuge.”

He slips aside from the door to let you come in. Another kiss pressed to your lips before he lets you sidle on past him. He hangs your witches hat on the coat rack with his spare jacket and Wayne’s denim.

“Need me to park your broom?” He jests.

“Left it in the car with my black cat. You’re safe.”

“How many more witchy jokes could we stretch this out too?”

“I reckon I’ve a few left knocking around…” you guess. Placing the bucket of candy on the kitchen counter. Hopefully Eddie doesn’t pilfer the whole lot before Wayne’s home. You hope he leaves his uncle a treat or two. And doesn’t scarf the lot like a damn seagull.

This trailer hugs you any time you enter. You thought that when you and Eddie started dating. And you still think it now. Capital H home. This place. Filled with his and Wayne’s memorabilia. And a few more other things tonight;

You haven’t seen your boyfriend as much of late. He’s been out hitting the teenage party circuits with his metal lunchbox. Making a healthy chunk of change by the looks of it. He’s strung up plenty of decorations to help pep this place up with Halloween spirit.

There’s pumpkin paper garlands arced in loops up high. Orange and black twisting streamers over the mug shelves. Fake rubbery bats hanging down from the kitchen island cupboards. Dancing skeletons hanging on the little spare space the walls have to offer. The coffee table is cleared of its usual junk and absolutely heaped in candy and snacks.

Butterfingers. Butter popcorn. Pretzels. Red vines. Cheez balls. Mallomars. All of which happen to be your favourites. He has two cold beers side by side. And a fat tight joint sits waiting in the ashtray too.

He’s even bought those fake filmy cobwebs to spread in a few places with fake plastic spiders - to join in with the real ones dusted around in forgotten corners.

All your tensions melt down right to your toes. All is right with the world. Halloween night. No school tomorrow. And Eddie. And a whole uninterrupted night of movies and bliss. You’ve lost count of the amount of times a movie night has ended up getting dirty on his couch. Tape flicking to the end whilst you’re attached lip to lip with wandering hands.

You sigh gladly as you stand to toe off your shoes. Putting them aside. Heat slides into your stomach all squirly and scorching as he stands from behind you and his hand reach around and skilfully undo the cape around your shoulders.

“Let’s get you comfy my temptress of the night. Beer?” He seeks. Throwing your cape over his shoulder. It lands nowhere even near the coat rack.

“Yes please my lovable nightmare.” You sass. You walk over to the couch. Spying an absolute mound of VHS’s ready to go by the TV. The colour seemed to dip in and out sometimes. The set was old. Eddie had to whack the side sometimes to get it to behave. You find it more endearing than a set that worked seamlessly.

You pluck pieces of popcorn out the bowl and throw them onto your tongue. Crunch them down as you sit with your knees tucked under you.

Eddie kills the music and slings himself down next to you on the lumpy couch. Frame squeaking and rattling as he settles.

“Damn. You got a great selection, Munson. What did you do, bribe Harrington with your soul to score all this?” You remark as you peer at the videos on the coffee table.

1941 Wolfman. Christopher Lee’s Dracula. The Fog. Halloween. House on Haunted Hill. And Friday the 13th. You loved old school movies as much as he did. The old swelling suspense of a good black and white.

“Nothin major. Just a little selling of my body and charms. Deviant sexual acts. Just so you know I’ll have raw knees for a month.”

“Mm you filthy slut.” You hush. Impressed.

“Finest slut in the Midwest.”

“So I’ve heard.” You grin. Leaning in to kiss him. Seemed too infeasible not too. He cups the back of your head as you do. Keeping you close as he dares. Sweet kiss like icing sugar dusted across your lips.

He makes a small ‘mmm’ noise before you pull back.

“Besides. I consider The Fog a film that makes me think fondly of our very early courtship.” He remarks.

Snoopy bed shorts. A tin of Campbells. His lunatic escapades of climbing in your window late at night.

“And, well, only the best for you, Pencils.” He grins.

You tilt your head. A sigh caught in your throat.

“You must’ve busted your ass to get all this. You didn’t need too. You know I don’t need all this. I’m happy just to watch crappy reruns with you and order a pizza.” You tell him.

Concerned about the cash he would’ve laid out for tonight. The decor. The snacks. The primo shit from Rick. All must’ve cost a pretty penny.

“You’re worth every damn cent. When you’re dating a spooky awesome girl you gotta put in the ultimate spooky effort.” He tells you. Gripping his beer bottle and leaning back.

You clink your beer bottle to his.

“Please tell me you overcharged those meathead jocks for your product.”

“…. And then some.” He winks.

That’s my boy. You couldn’t be more proud.

“I’ll drink to that.” You murmur. Taking a pull on your cold beer. Cool heaven sliding down your throat.

“Thanks to Tina’s party last week, I mean, man, I scored big time. So many stoners invited. Walk in the park.” He smiled.

That deserved a kiss. Which you gladly give.

“Kinda love you for that.” You suppose. But there were no two ways about it - you were completly head over heels for him.

“Good to know.” He supplies. Hand rubbing your back.

“We better put a video on before I maul you.” You threaten with a great deal of flirt. Dragging your purple painted fingernails down the front of his top.

“Mmm kinky.” He grins. Leaning over to press a spitty kiss to your cheek. Before diving for the pile of VHS.

“Ok, roughly how long do you wanna argue about which one we watch first?” He seeks.

You narrow your eyes. Taking a sip back of your beer. “Depends if I win or not.” You look at him all cunning.

“House on haunted hill?” He bargains. Crouching and pointing the VHS at you.

“Don’t point that thing at me.” You smile. Stealing another handful of popcorn. Eating it with a grin.

Let the bickering commence…

~

The credits rolled to your third film of the night. Halloween the 1978 original. Orange twinkle lights flicker in the warm yellow lights near the kitchen. The rest of the trailer in dozy darkness. The sounds of kids trick or treating and laughing, batter against the trailer side in the night air.

You magnanimously let him pick the film. Maybe you’re growing soft in your old age.

This found you and Eddie slumped down together on the ratty couch. Limbs tangled. Joint smouldering in the ashtray. Verdant smoke in the air. Beer bottles empty. Only popcorn kernels left in the bottom of the bowl. The snacks had been pilfered and pinched at your leisure.

Eddie was pressed down onto you like a lanky weighted blanket. Snoozing happily with a belly full of beer and cheez balls. Socked feet hanging off the end of the couch. Hands slung all over you like a gangly octopus. He’s currently letting out content little breathy snores with his head cushioned against your boobs. A little spit of drool by the side of his mouth.

He’d nodded off sometime around Michael Myers fifth victim with the boyfriend and the blonde pigtails. You’d been carding your fingers through his hair. Scratching his scalp. Made his eyes flick back in his head.

You swear he was one step away from twitching his foot in contentment like a canine at the work of your hands. Made his brain short circuit.

More so when he was on Indica. Just the kinda hit he needed for a slow sleepy and spooky night in. You can’t deny you’re fighting the effects of it yourself.

A couple of puffs. Eyelids drowsy. Your limbs feeling like cotton stuffed pillows. Indolent and slow. And now you’ve got your perfect metal head keeping you pressed down.

“Guess the party circuit wiped you for six, huh babe?” You smile. Thumbing his cheek. He mumbled something incomprehensible.

You shift your leg up. Which tumbles his knee more into your lap. He snuffled. Nuzzling his head further onto you. His breath was all sugary red vines, and fruity weed.

You kept on stroking his hair. Leaning forward to nuzzle a kiss to the crown of his messy hair. Apple shampoo and that lost tang of American spirits.

“Edward?” You ask.

You get a sleepy, sticky gurgle from him.

“I’ve got a really nice bra and panties set on under this dress, y’know.” You whisper at him.

Another mumble. You smile and rest your cheek on his warm head.

“You’ll have to let me move to put the next movie in, babe.” You tell.

“No. S’comfy.”

Then you hear him grumble. “Boobs.”

“Great boobs.”

You chuckle. Honestly.

“Knock yourself out. Munson. You smile.

Shifting down to let sleep come and gently take you too.

“Oh, and Happy Halloween.” You add. Letting your eyes close. Letting the static at the end of the video ebb you softly into dreams. Along with the sound of wind kindly rattling the roof. Brushing along the walls outside. All the trick or treaters have been coerced indoors. Safe inside with their candy spoils.

Much later on. You hear the rustle of clothes and feel the heat of his breath. The warmth of his limbs leeches off you when he moves. Coldness sneaks in.

You wake with bleary-sticky eyes to those brown ones staring back at you. Cheeks all flushed. The tell-tale sign of a tented zipper bursting at his crotch.

That dripping eye make up looks smeared and downright dangerous. He looks absolutely ravishing and you suddenly shake off your tiredness to see him looking so good like this.

“You said something about a bra, Pencils…” he smiles. “Be a shame not to show it off now-“ He beams. Waggles his brows.

“Heard that did you?” Your brow crooks.

Happy Halloween, indeed.

This is for everyone; but especially for @tvserie-s-world @lunatictardis @heyndrix @callmeloverr @joequinnswhore @atabigail @thewrathoffemalerage @lurkingprincess @songforeddiemunson @palomahasenteredthechat @babybluebex

[dedeinthewild]

PEPE WON THE SPRINT RACE OMG proud gf right here lmao jk (i’m not) can you do an imagine where they celebrate his win and it’s just so cute and there’s tears and all and he dedicate his win to the reader.

It's always so beautiful to see a first win, and Pepe's one was really something. I totally get you on the proud gf part 'cause I felt it in Quatar with Paul's amazing weekend (jk as well lol)💫

I swear I'll work on the other requests but I couldn't let this one sit :)

pepe martí x reader, established relationship

~ “That’s P1! You’re an F2 race winner!”

summary : Pepe’s first F2 win in Abu Dhabi capped off a tough season. It was more than just a race—it was about proving himself. Celebrating with his mom and girlfriend, he realized the win was a shared triumph, built on love and support.

A flawless start.

A flawless race.

A flawless end to a season that had been anything but generous to the Spanish driver wearing number twenty-one. A season mired in crashes, gravel traps, and botched strategies.

For so long, he had watched his teammate dominate, triumphing over a grid of twenty drivers, all chasing the same dream. And now, under the fading light of Abu Dhabi—a circuit that looked upon him like a loving mother—he was about to take his first step toward that very dream.

He was defying the expectations of those who didn’t know him.

Defying the machine that had dragged him to yellow flags and the back of the pack.

And defying his own hands, which he had often blamed for his failures, as they gripped the wheel that now guided him through the curves of the circuit.

Because, for the first time from start to finish, no one had anything to say about him. No critiques. At the green flag, he’d pulled off a textbook overtake on the first two cars. Lap after lap, he had continued to hold his ground, even as titans clashed behind him in the battle for the championship.

Because he wanted to stand on that podium step, to hear his anthem play, to hear his name echo through the circuit as the sun set behind the grandstands for the season’s final race.

Joseph Maria Martí.

That enormous smile that lit up the entire paddock, the hands that whispered to the car even when it didn’t seem to understand, and the fun facts he memorized late at night just to keep the briefing rooms alive. That boy, only nineteen years old, was about to claim a victory that didn’t matter for points, rankings, or team standings.

But for him, it meant everything. It was his way of climbing back to the top.

“Last lap, Bortoleto two seconds behind,” his race engineer informed him, eyes fixed on the telemetry, waiting impatiently for Pepe to be declared the winner.

Two seconds.

They could have been two tenths, hundredths, or mere thousandths.

But it wouldn’t have mattered. Pepe would’ve claimed this track as his either way.

Because waiting for him, just beyond the finish line, were three people:

His mother, the most important person in his life, his other half, and the child version of himself—the one he’d promised to bring to the highest step of the podium.

“That’s P1! You’re an F2 race winner!” the team radio crackled, and Pepe felt his chest swell with a joy he had rarely known.

One of those feelings so profound, so overwhelming, that it made him feel like he could fly.

He screamed, letting go of all restraint, throwing his head back inside the helmet as he focused on completing his cool-down lap at Yas Marina.

His Yas Marina.

Behind him, three championship contenders had fought tooth and nail for every last point.

And maybe what made his victory even sweeter was the fact that he hadn’t carried the weight of their pressure on his shoulders.

Only wings—the wings that had allowed him to soar.

On the main straight, team media staff and families had already gathered behind the barriers, waiting for the cars to return.

And there was no better feeling than parking behind the marker labeled with a bold “1.”

“Woah, woohoo!” he shouted again, throwing his arms toward the sky as dusk descended. He closed his eyes for a second, savoring the enormity of the moment.

Him, his passion, his talent—towering over everything.

Jumping out of the car, he saw Gabriel and Paul already embraced by their families and trainers while photographers turned their lenses toward him.

He raised his index finger to display a “1,” a number that, today, belonged solely to him.

Then, his gaze landed on two familiar figures.

One, with long blonde hair and a radiant smile—his mother, her pride shining through as she stood next to Paul, who was chatting with someone nearby.

And the other, with carefully styled hair and soft features—the woman he loved, who probably felt the same exhilaration in her chest that he felt whenever he looked at her.

He ran toward them, wrapping his arms tightly around the women in his life, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath to keep his emotions in check.

“Mi bebé,” whispered the stunning señora Martí, patting the blue helmet of her son before stepping aside to let his girlfriend have her moment.

Her hands trembled slightly, and if it hadn’t been for the cameras, she might’ve shed a tear or two. She was so proud she couldn’t find the words to express it. All she wanted was for Pepe to climb that podium and lift the trophy high above his head.

“It was about time,” he said, lifting his visor to reveal the dark eyes she loved so much.

“That I won in front of you.”

She smiled, pulling him into another embrace, letting herself be enveloped by the tall, lean frame of the Campos driver. He rested his head gently against hers.

Minutes later, as they stood under the podium, she watched him step onto the highest tier and accept the trophy beneath the Spanish flag.

Beside her was Isabella, Gabriel’s other half and reigning Formula 3 champion, equally emotional as she struggled to hold her phone steady for a photo.

“It’s comforting to see someone as emotional as me,” she joked to the Brazilian, while señora Martí recorded a video of her son’s celebration.

“I could never get used to this,” the blonde replied, dabbing a tear from her cheek, her exquisite features glowing with emotion.

They both looked up.

And Pepe was smiling. Smiling so much his cheeks must have hurt. He knew, somewhere in the crowd, there was a familiar blue shirt and the most beautiful pair of reading glasses.

His victory off the track.

He never would’ve imagined that, beyond his family, someone could be so proud of him. Someone who would wait for him at the barrier, their heart full.

But she had been there—even on the days when he came home feeling unworthy of his team, the junior program, and the category that had once believed in him.

“I love you,” she mouthed before he could pop the champagne alongside the other two drivers.

And after the celebration and the traditional photos, he leaned against the podium railing, drunk on happiness, with the trophy in one hand and the champagne bottle in the other.

“I love you too,” he replied, pressing the trophy hand to his heart before dashing down the steps to rejoin his team—the team that had never stopped believing Pepe was the right gamble.

Later, as he walked through the F2 paddock flanked by the two women in his life, his mother exclaimed, “You won!” making him laugh as he imagined her group chats, likely brimming with photos of his triumph.

He ruffled her hair affectionately, then glanced at his girlfriend, who was reading the inscription on the trophy he’d handed her earlier.

“Yas Marina Circuit, FIA F2 World Championship, Sprint Race Winner.”

She raised her proud, joyful eyes to meet his.

“The way you’re smiling says it all,” she said, weighing the trophy in her hands while observing just how happy he was.

“How do you always say it?” Her smile widened into a grin.

“Everybody knows who Pepe is.”

He chuckled, cupping her cheek to stroke the skin lightly flushed from the sun as night began to consume Abu Dhabi.

“But only you know the Pepe who won that race,” he replied in his deep voice.

He was talking about the child standing behind the barrier, the boy who never lost hope, and the young man who had pushed to the very end, unseen but always leading.

“Because the only person who could cry under that podium was you.”

She— The one who had stood by him beyond his family.

The one who, in such a short time, had become his compass, guiding him home no matter how far Barcelona might be.

“You managed to get me here.”

“Your talent did.”

“But what would talent mean if I had no one to win for?”

He ran his driver’s hand through her hair, never breaking eye contact.

“This was our win, yours as much as mine,” he said.

“I finally got to the top step, but you’ve shown me what it means to have someone who loves unconditionally by my side.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead before wrapping his arms around her one last time.

No helmet now.

With his face and heart laid bare.

Knowing they would never let each other go.

- not proofread or anything, so there might be a few errors💫

(I really like this one, that makes up for the mediocre last ones lol)

[disneyprincemuke]

first podiums * aa23

it’s her first win in formula one as a female driver and her boyfriend can’t be any happier for her

pairings: alex albon x reader!driver

notes: NOT in any way, shape, or form related to vettel reincarante calm ur horses.. i also sincerely apologise to all the anons sending in requests while i just keep posting logan shit 😭😭 i’m genuinely trying my best please forgive me!!

also um… this is VERY like… so mediocre… i’m so sorry for this babygirl… i will post another fluff alex fic tomorrow i sweaRRR I’M BETTER THAN THIS

(f1 masterlist)

you hadn’t even realised you’d won the race. all the cheering your engineer and team principal had screamed into your ears through the radio hadn’t fully registered. not until you drove into parc ferme and you were guided to the signage with the number one on it.

you couldn’t even climb out of your car, until a figure towered over the halo, causing you to look up. the driver you’d held off for the better part of the last ten laps of the race greets you with a wide smile, gesturing for you to get out of the car and says something about celebrating.

once you climb out of you car, you’re immediately greeted with a tight hug and praises from the veteran driver.

“oh, you raced that so well! i couldn’t find a way past you in those last laps,” max says to you, patting your helmet firmly. “you deserve this. congrats.”

“thank you,” you’d answer him before he walks away to greet other drivers driving into parc ferme.

but you waste no time. you quickly run over to your team, held back by the barricades, and throw yourself into the sea of arms where they sing you praises and pat your back. it’s exhilarating to be on the receiving end after a long weekend.

it’s not been kind to you: starting the race in the midfield, only to fight your way up and be graced by a yellow flag to chase after max for that fight to your first win in formula one.

and being the first to do it other than max this season, it’s a good look for you and the team that’s brought you here today.

you thought the hugs would never end when you tried to pull away but the only wrapped their arms around you tighter, until there was a pat on your shoulder. your feet touch the ground and you’re immediately twirled into another warm hug.

you had no idea who it was until you opened an eye to meet the bright blue race suit you’ve known and loved the entire season. you had no confirmation until he spoke: “i’m so proud of you.”

"alex," you manage to squeak against his race suit, your helmet uncomfortably being held in alex's arms.

you can hear him giggle as he reaches beneath your helmet, unclipping the harness before he helps you to pull off your head. "hey, race winner! you were amazing out there!"

"how'd you get here so fast?" you laugh, looking around for his car.

"i finished p4 today," he smiles.

you throw your head back in a softer laugh, yanking off your balaclava. you tear away the hair tie that held your hair up, fluffing it out after it'd been stuck to your head for the better part of the past two hours.

"that's amazing, alex! that's a good race!"

"yours is even better! you won!" he beams. "speaking of that, i do have a surprise."

"what are you talking about?"

alex reaches for something behind him, probably held onto by somebody else. you try to move your head around his body to see what it is, but he's quick to counter your gaze by moving himself to where your eyes wander.

"congratulations," alex smiles, moving his hand between your bodies, presenting to you the biggest bouquet to flowers you've ever seen in your life. "these are for you. there will be more later after the podium."

"aren't we going to the nightclub with the guys after the podium and press?" you whisper, taking the flowers into your hands and taking a step towards him. "you guys have got that new race winner tradition, don't you? since you guys kinda run the grid now?”

"you're not much of a drinker - i'm sure they'll understand," alex shrugs with a small smile. "besides, would you rather spend the evening with tons of drunk losers, or just one sober loser - whom you're very much in love with?"

“i guess the latter does sound very romantic,” you smile sweetly, letting him pull you in with a hand on your waist. “you are planning something romantic, right?”

“of course. it’s my baby’s first win in formula one,” alex smiles, leaning down with puckered lips.

you wrap a hand around his neck, reeling him in to connect your lips. the moment is so intimate that you almost don’t notice the flashing lights that surround you.

but it doesn’t go past alex. if he could have all the privacy in the world and do whatever he wants with you, he would. so, he does the one thing he thinks would help him avoid headlines and your pictures plastered everywhere in the morning.

he lifts his helmet to hide your face away from the cameras, allowing you to share whatever’s left of your intimate moment. he pulls away and rests his forehead on yours. “you’re a race winner. when we get back home, we can make our trophies kiss.”

“that’s cute. they’re like our little kids,” you giggle, nudging his nose with yours. “i’ll see you in the car after i’m done with everything? look cute, okay?”

being on the top of that podium step was more exhilarating than you could ever imagine. to hear the crowd chant your name, to listen to your national anthem being blasted for everyone to hear and to watch your loved ones huddled together in the crowd for you is a feeling you’ll never be able to shake off.

in the far corner, you could see alex forcing logan to take a video of you, probably telling him off about which angle to hold the phone at to make you look flattering.

you almost burst into tears when you watched the rookie shove the phone back into your boyfriend’s hands and walk away, shaking his head in disappointment.

with every step you took in the paddocks thereafter, somebody is quick to stop you in your tracks. whether it’s for a picture, a short greeting for your performance, or just a hug. it’s all managed to make you feel a little overwhelmed.

and tired. because by the time alex managed to get you all to himself, it’s practically midnight and all the remaining energy had been squeezed out of you.

you weren’t even able to make a friendly appearance at the nightclub that max had invited you out to. your boyfriend had to practically drag you out of your driver’s room before you passed out in there entirely.

here you are, in your hotel room surrounded by takeout and a pint of chocolate ice cream. your ipad is propped up by several pillows with a random youtube video playing in the room.

“love,” alex hums, reaching out to pause the video. he rolls on his stomach, tapping your shoulder. “i hope you were able to enjoy your first win. i know you’re quite tired.”

of course, you’d been dozing off with the takeout box in your hand. but alex had put in so much effort in making his hotel room feel like a celebration after all your efforts throughout the evening that it would have felt rude — illegal, even — to politely decline from how drained you are.

“love, of course, i enjoyed everything,” you smile, putting a hand on his cheek. you tilt your head and let your hair fall past your shoulders. “i’m sorry, i wish i had more energy to go out and do something. we could have gotten some drinks and celebrated with the guys.”

alex leans into your touch, closing his eyes momentarily. “i hope my simple setup didn’t disappoint. i would have gotten us some wine, but ya know… you don’t really drink.”

“hey, i love cranberry juice,” you grin, pinching his cheek very slightly. “thank you. for all of this, and the flowers. you really didn’t have to — it’s not like i’d won the championship?”

“oh, you’re aiming for that next,” alex smiles with a nod. “not before me, though! you’re going to have to fight me for that championship.”

“ah, i wouldn’t speak so much for someone who can’t beat me in mario kart,” you roll your eyes playfully.

alex raises his eyebrows, sitting up in disbelief. “yeah? you got the energy to beat me in mario kart right now?”

“i always have the energy for that!” you shriek when alex yanks you into his body, trying to avoid spilling the food onto your white bedsheets. “alex, the food!”

“eat faster so we can play mario kart! come on!”

[chukys-mouthguard]

victory lap -sj24

Current Mood: an NHL moodboard series

-> seth jarvis- race car driver au!

-> genre - nothing but fluff

race prep…

The week leading up to race day was always the craziest week in Seth’s life. Well, yours as well considering you had to deal with Seth during race prep.

He’d grown into a top driver in the racing circuit, how you weren’t sure because his track record for being the driver with the most wrecks surely would’ve gotten him cut in your eyes. But he also managed to be quite the fan favorite, which led to lots of sponsorships, which equaled the league not wanting to lose him.

His team had plenty of things scheduled to keep him busy leading up to race day. On top of normal media appearances, Seth had practice runs with his new car and fittings for the new racing suit they’d designed. His signature red and black colors with pops of yellow tied in. You were sure you’d never seen the color red look so good on anyone.

This race, though similar to so many others, was set to be the start of a new era for Seth Jarvis and Hurricane Racing. At least, that’s what his team was advertising it as.

The rollout of a new vehicle, new uniforms, they were ready to turn Seth into a winning driver for years to come.

late nights in the garage…

After a couple practice runs in the new car, you could just tell by Seth’s demeanor that something was off. He’d climbed from the vehicle, throwing his helmet as he screamed. His emotions were high as this race was supposed to mean something. It was supposed to change everything for him. But that couldn’t happen with a car that was having issues.

Issues with the car meant a late night in the garage, troubleshooting and testing anything the team could think of to solve the issues. You hated leaving Seth’s side on nights like these. Not because there was really anything you could to help, but because you knew it helped calm his nerves and keep a level head.

The spot on one of the couches at the back of the garage was your go to spot. A clear sight on the team as they worked, your eyes never leaving Seth’s figure as he paced. Hands moving from his hips to run through his hair, then arms crossing over his chest, all before he’d rub his face in frustration. Never caring that they were covered in grease and it would all transfer to his cheeks and eyes.

You’d watch as he would sigh, his shoulders slumping as he’d begin to think the issues were too much to fix. But as he glanced back at you, a soft smile would appear on his lips as he’d mouth the words “i love you”.

Hours would pass before the team would make a breakthrough on the vehicle, to which you weren’t awake for as you’d passed out in your place on the couch. Seth is always telling you that you didn’t have to stay, but you’d insist.

He makes his way to you, tucking some hair behind your ear as he smiles. Waiting for you to react to his touch before saying or doing anything.

“Baby girl…we’re almost finished, I promise this time.”

You softly smiled as you curled up with his jacket, nodding your head as you hummed in response before closing your eyes once again.

“Hey, in case I haven’t told you lately. I love you.”

His hands held your sides tight as you leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips, before leaving a peck on your forehead.

“Really Seth?”

Your tone was playfully annoyed as you opened your eyes, looking down to see greasy handprints on the sides of your white tank top. Shooting a glare to Seth as he rubbed his face in embarrassment. His face now matching the look of your top.

“Fuck, I’m sorry babe. I swear I’ll never learn!”

You rolled your eyes as you snuggled up with his jacket, a smile on your face as he rested his hands on his hips. The top of his racing suit pulled down and tied around his waist. His muscular arms fully on display as you couldn’t help but notice how hot Seth looked in moments like these.

“At least for once it was my top, do you know how many pairs of pants have been ruined with your greasy handprints on the butt?”

race day…

The final lap was approaching and you could feel your heart rate increasing by the second. Seth had been inching closer to the lead and was just two cars back from the top spot and from winning his first race in over a year.

So much was riding on this final lap, not only for Seth but also his team. His career and future could all change in an instant should he be the one to pull across the finish line first.

As Seth and the other two drivers made their way into the final lap, you noticed things getting more intense. Cars trying to pass one another as the second place driver attempted to make his move. But as they hit the gas, the driver in first swerved, hitting the opponent's tire causing them both to spin out.

You held your breath as you prayed that Seth could avoid the wreckage, covering your eyes as you couldn’t bear to look. The roar of the crowd didn’t give you any hints as you knew fans would cheer for just about anything and everything. But as your girlfriend next to you grabbed your arm, her cheers ringing loudest above the noise, you were sure it was too good to be true.

Pulling your hands from your face you watched as Seth avoided the wreck and pulled across the finish line first. Tears filled your eyes as you cheered, jumping and hugging your girlfriend as your emotions were getting the best of you.

You’d pushed through the crowd to make your way down to the track, running as fast as you could through the tunnel to find your way. The only thing on your mind was Seth. Getting to see the smile on his face as he lifted the trophy while his team showered him with champagne. To know that all the practice runs, hours in the garage trying to fix up the car, all of it was well worth it.

[blaxcunicorn]

One-shot

Heeey! I just wrote something random as I felt a bit inspired after reading Just kids by Patti Smith. I have been busy with my exams which is why I've been gone for so long but we back!

Content: fem!reader, NSFW warning, Rockstar Eren before fame, friends to lovers, poverty

You hissed as you cut your pinky finger on a thorn while making a flower bouquet for a customer. You sucked it up and gave the sweet lady her bouquet with a smile. “It’s perfect, thank you. My daughter is going to love it.” She smiled. Her smile warmed your heart. Being a florist wasn’t the most fulfilling job, but making people like her smile motivates you. Well, that and putting food on the table. You grew up in the city's poorer side, so there weren’t many opportunities for you after high school. The florist job was the best thing you could find, it isn’t all bad, the owner has been nothing but kind to you. You heard the doorbell ring as Mrs Johnson came walking into the shop with bags that smelled like heaven. She and her husband owned the bakery next to the shop, and they would always bring you the leftovers of the day. “Here, my love, it’s not that much, but hopefully, it is enough for a day.” She smiled gently. You opened the bag; it was a sandwich, a croissant, and a whole loaf of bread. “This is more than enough, thank you.” You said gratefully, setting the store ready for closure. 

You walked into your tired apartment building, greeting the tired landlord who was seated at his usual desk spot. He gave you a sad smile as you stood outside your brown door with an eviction note taped on it. They were increasing the rent, and you were already struggling to meet the current increase of the last one. You had to sell your bed in order to afford last month’s payment. You opened the door to your small yellow-walled studio. You put the bakery bag on the counter, grab the sandwich, and cut it in half, leaving the other piece on the plate. As you sat down with your sandwich, you noticed a pair of pants with holes on the left knee on the table. You shook your head and pulled out your sewing equipment. As you almost finished stitching the pants, you heard the familiar sound of the heavy steps of construction boots.

Eren entered the room, greeting you with a warm grin. “Man, I’m exhausted, Gold, but how was your day?” He asked, putting his yellow helmet on the counter. He has called you Gold since childhood, which you never entirely understood. You and Eren grew up as neighbours in the very same building. You lived in another apartment with your grandmother, and Eren lived with his parents. Life dealt the two of you shitty cards, and Eren’s mother was killed in a robbery gone wrong when you were only five years old. His father passed away from a heart attack when he was fifteen, and he had to drop out of school to find a job. Your grandmother didn’t have the financial means to help him, but she would cook him meals as often as possible. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long, as she passed away when you were sixteen. Eren offered you to move in with him so that you didn’t have to drop out like him. Mrs Johnson, who was your grandmother’s friend, helped you get a part-time job as a florist. You managed to finish high school, and well here you are. 

“Hello, Gold. Are you okay?” He asked, looking concerned. You jump a little as you had zoned out, I mean, how could you not? The construction job had made Eren quite built, he literally looked like a Greek God. “I’m fine, sorry. Just a little tired, that’s all.” You smiled while finishing the pants throwing it at Eren. “Thanks, you’re the best!” He grinned, caught it, and grabbed the other half of the sandwich. His smile disappeared the moment he came closer. He held your hand and stroked your finger with his thumb. “Don’t worry, I just cut myself a bit at work”, you smile, trying to ease the tension. Eren doesn't respond, his eyes are focused on the scar. “I will provide you a life where you don't have to take jobs that will leave you scars” he muttered. “Huh?” You said, looking confused. “Nothing..Hey, I brought a surprise!” He grinned, pulling out two bottles of cheap white wine. “What are we celebrating?” You smile, folding his pants. “The guys and I finished fixing the van! We are leaving for LA  by the end of next week!” He said excitedly, pulling out two plastic cups. You swallowed hard but tried to put on a smile for him, although your eyes were stinging. 

Eren learned how to play guitar from Armin’s grandfather at the age of fifteen. He owned an instrument shop and noticed that a couple of kids were interested in the instruments. It was first Connie who came in looking at the drums. Armin’s grandfather sat the bold boy down and taught him how to play the instrument. The second time Connie came, he brought his friend Jean. Jean was mesmerised by the beautiful black and white bass. Which after a few weeks, it became his best friend (after Connie, ofc!).

 Lastly, we have Eren, he was on his way home from work when he saw Armin’s grandfather struggle with some boxes. He offered to help, which the elderly man accepted. One of the boxes contained a black electric guitar. Armin’s grandfather offered Eren to try it out as he saw his green eyes glow at the sight of it. Weeks later, he introduced the three boys to his grandson Armin who could play both keyboard and guitar. The boys quickly became friends and started playing together in the evenings. Armin’s grandfather believed that it was better for the boys to be distracted from the crimes in the city, and what better distraction than music? The elderly man passed away four years later. From there on, the boys knew that they wanted to start a band and make it out of the city. They found an abandoned van that they spent a year fixing with the help of Jean’s mechanic background. The plan was to use the van to drive to LA and sleep in it if they couldn't afford a Motel. Now it being done meant that Eren would soon leave to follow his dreams. 

You took the cup, he offered you, “Cheers to you for making it in LA!” You said, smiling. “Cheers for the two of us making it in LA!” The Chestnut-haired man said, correcting you. “Us? As in..” 

“Would you think that I would leave you behind in this shitty city?” Eren asked, looking at you like you had stated something silly like the moon was made out of cheese. “Yeah, I mean…ehm”, you played with your fingers. The guys always referred to you as their fifth member. You weren't a direct member of the band, but you had sewed them a few pieces to wear when they’d do free bar performances. “I could never leave you behind, it’s you and me against the world. Like it always has been.” He grins, toasting his wine before downing it in one go. It warmed your heart to know that Eren would never forget about you. After finishing the bottles, the two of you are pretty drunk. “Eren, could you please play something for me?” You ask, batting your eyelashes.

You look so damn cute drunk. How could he say no? “Sure, what song?.” He says, picking up his guitar. “This Charming Man!” You say excitedly. You danced to Eren’s angelic voice, “Ah, a jumped-up pantry boy who never knew his place!” You shout, and Eren gets up and dances with you. One day, I will write you a song that will make you dance like that, he thought to himself.  The two of you danced like you had no care in the world, as putting food on the table was not an issue, as you weren’t surrounded by crime and death. 

The two of you lie in bed, dizzy and out of breath but happy. You turn your bodies to face each other. “Eren, did you mean it when you said that it was the two of us against the world?” You ask for reinsurance. “Of course I did, I can’t imagine any other woman by my side but you.” The alcohol in his system was exposing him. You smiled while massage his ear lobe. “Is that so?” You whispered, dying of happiness on the inside. He doesn’t respond but looks at you like a lovesick crackhead. Your cheek burned, and you turned your head to face the cracking roof in embarrassment. 

Eren cupped your cheeks, forcing you to face him again. You leaned into the warmth of his rough hands. “What am I to you, Eren?” Your lips were almost touching, and the smell of wine filled your nose. He leans in and kisses you passionately. His lips were a big contrast to his hands. You felt a needy heat growing between your legs, it seemed like Eren was reading your mind as he slid his two fingers under your dress. “Already wet for me?” He whispered. “Yes,” you whined.

 Eren removed your dress and underwear, and you hissed in the chilly air. Eren doesn’t break eye contact with your as he spreads your legs and gives your cunt a long lick from the bottom of your vulgar, covering his tongue with your sweet juices. “God, Gold…you…taste…so…good”, he whispered, diving into your cunt. “Ah, Eren” you moan. You were confident that your neighbour Eric on the other side of the wall heard you.

 All Eren cared about right now was to make you cum, to release you from all the stress from your everyday life. "'I’m gonna cum," you whimpered, realising all over his mouth. “Good girl”, he whispered, kissing you, letting you taste yourself. “Eren, can you please fuck me?” you asked pathetically. He flipped you on your stomach. He leaned over and growled in your ear, “You don’t have to ask me twice. Get on all fours,” and kissed your back. You did what he demanded, feeling shivers all over your body.

 Eren collected cum from your vagina and smeared it all over his veiny cock. He gripped tight around your hips and hissed as he was entering you. Eren pumped slowly back and forth, the air was filled with your moans as your pussy was getting used to Eren’s colossal size. “Fuck”, he moaned as he started speeding up, digging his finger further into your flesh. “Gold, fuck me back. Fuck your cock back, it’s all yours”, he growled. Being the obedient woman you were, you threw your ass back. “Harder” he demanded, spanking you. “Ah, fuck Eren”, you moaned as your arms gave up on you and collapsed on the bed. That didn’t stop Eren as he lifted your hips and placed his cock inside of you. “Fuck, your pussy feels good. Keeping this from me for six years,” he groaned, continuing fucking you. Your face was on the pillow, which was a good thing as you were a moaning mess. 

Your eyes teared up as you felt your second climax blossoming. Eren could tell as you clenched around him, “Give it to me, give it to me.” He growled, feeling you squirt all over him. “Gold, I’m not finished. Take this cock.” He demanded, filling the air with your whimpers and the sound of your skin slapping. You used the last energy to get on all fours again, fucking him back “Ah, fuck! You want me to get all out, too, all this fucking frustration. Fuck it all into you.” He groaned. “Yes”, you moaned, throwing your ass back. His thrusts became rigid and slow as he was filling you up. 

Eren collapsed on the bed next to you while catching his breath. He kissed your forehead before you went to the toilet to pee. You walked out to see Eren comfy in bed. You lay down beside him, and he wrapped his arms around you. “Eren, you never answered my question, " you said, turning to face him. I’m in love with you, silly. Always has been, and always will be.” He said, yawing.

[jk-kiwi]

Quick fast (heavy wheels)

Characters - biker/racer!Jungkook X reader (f) Genre - drama, angst and a tiny bit of fluff. Word count - 2.1k  Warnings - suggesting in some parts but no actually written smut, JK smoking, a bit of an abusive ex but not for long. Summary - Red, Yellow, Green and race. Who’s going to be faster? My bike or the heart that beats for you? Author’s note - This is one of my wattpad stories written in another language that I translated, I hope you like it! Excuse my mistakes. ^^ Red

I adjust my helmet.

Yellow

I take a deep breath trying to calm my racing heart.

Green

I speed up and let the adrenaline fill my veins.

The race finally begins.

I speed up and ferociously pass all the participants. The road is a little steep, but I’m too engulfed with the sensation of pleasure to feel anything. I focus on the road, already feeling the sweet nectar of victory.

Passing the last participant, I start accelerating even harder, leaving a big cloud of dust and sparks behind me.

I see the victory line in front of my eyes and without fail I cross it. I abruptly stop the engine, a lot of coloured dust being thrown into the air when I pass the finish line. After some time the rest of the participants arrive, but the only thing they can see is my winning silhouette and the writing on the back of my jacket "Jungkook 7" gold letters engraved on the matte black material.

I take off my helmet and get off my bike immediately being surrounded by a sea of girls who are stopped by the massive guards who were making sure things go according to plan.

The crowd screams my name, and the envious faces of my competition make me feel like a king raised on a pedestal. 

I love victory.

“Good race Jeon, another day reminding me why I am your manager.” Kylo says patting me friendly on the back, his smile showing me how satisfied he is with my victory. “No need to worry, as long as Jeon Jungkook has hands and feet, victory will flow like a river.” I say confidently. “Good, that's the spirit, don't let anyone get to your ego. Go and rest now, champion.” He waves me goodbye and holding tightly my helmet I go towards my locker hearing the girls scream for me “I love you, Jungkook! You're my life!”, “I'll do anything for you, Jungkook, please look at me!” I wave and smile at them and their screams start to ring out even louder. Entering the locker room, I am greeted with unpleasant looks by some other competitors. “I see you've done it again, Jeon. I'm sure next time you won't get away with it.” says my biggest enemy, Sung. “If I was interested in your story maybe I'd let you at least get close to me during the race, but you like to eat my dirt anyway.” Sung holds up his fist ready to punch me, but he’s held back by several people that are around. “We'll see, Jeon. Someday you'll bite it and I'll be the first to laugh in your face. I'm gonna come up to you, punch you and make sure I'm gonna mark your prince face forever.” I roll my eyes at him and walk past them knowing they can't do anything to me, I'm number 1 here and anyone who messes with me would have serious 

Problems to deal with. I quickly throw my sweaty gear in the closet, get in the showers and wash away my sinsfor the day. 

By the time I step outside the place is enveloped in silence. I go towards my locker to see my street clothes neatly folded there. I get dressed quickly, step outside where I am hit by the cold air and see parked just for me, my beautiful motorbike.

I get on it and begin chasing through the silence of the night. 

I love the feeling the wind leaves on my skin and the blood pumping through my veins the moment I start accelerating.

But my bliss doesn't last long when a red light appears in the dashboard and spoils all my plans. I'm out of gas… I have to stop, however the bad luck doesn't last long and I see a gas station in front of me. I stop in a drift, then park quietly and start to fill up my tank.

Around me the atmosphere was calm, after all who comes to a station in a near deserted place, in the middle of the night? I close my eyes, tired but filled with satisfaction. 

I wait until the tank is full and then I go in to pay, the cashier, almost asleep, jumps up when he sees me. I immediately throw a pile of money on the counter and ignore the cashier who started calling for me because I've given him too much money. In a rush I am outside and lighting a cigarette, I take smoke filling my lungs with nicotine. 

I'm ready to take one more, but a distant scream catches my attention.

I throw my cigarette on the ground and put it out with my foot and with slow steps I walk towards the place where the sound is heard.

I pass my bike and a little further in the distance I notice a female figure being pulled abusively hard by someone. “Let me go!” my feet started getting faster all of a sudden. “Shut up! You draw attention towards us.” The man starts pulling the women more towards him “ I don’t care! Get your hands off me!” I get so close that the girl's back makes contact with my chest, my hand wrapping around her waist. “What problems do you have with my girlfriend?” The man finally stops and I raise my eyebrow at him. The lost girl looks up at me and I almost lose myself in her big, glossy eyes. “Why didn't you tell me you found someone else? Is it that hard to talk to me?” His hand was still gripping the poor girl's arm disgustingly tight so I pulled her towards me and held her tighter. “I asked you a question, what's your business with my girlfriend?” He finally gets the sign, clearly becoming intimidated by my presence, maybe even the fact that I was a head taller than him and much more muscular, not to mention that the biker outfit made me look even more threatening. 

“Sorry dude, I didn’t know she found someone else” “Get lost before I run over you with my bike” The man raises his hands in defense and walks away, figure disappearing into the night. 

I look at the tiny girl I was still holding and ask her if she’s okay. The girl peels herself away from me, rubs her arm, which subtly turns from red to purple, and looks at me once again with the same enchanting gaze. “I'm grateful, thank you. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here.” “Who was that guy, do you know him?” I ask curiously. “Yeah…my ex…” “I think he has a hard time understanding that if you’re asking me.” She laughs at my statement leaving me mesmerized by her beauty. Without wasting more time I stretch out my hand to her “My name is Jungkook.” “Y/N, glad to meet you” She reaches out and I gently take her hand in mine, but instead of shaking I bring it closer to my lips and leave a kiss on the back. Y/N giggles and smiles even more brightly at me. “Wow, what a gentleman we have here.” “Then can a gentleman like me drive a beautiful girl home?” I don't usually make such proposals to anyone, especially girls I meet randomly on streets, but something about her makes me dive even deeper, she was alluring. “I'd be delighted.” with her arm linked to mine I show her the way to my bike. “I didn't know that's how I'd get home.” she sais while I place my helmet on her head. “What, you don't like motors?” “I couldn't say I dislike them, but I much prefer the person who rides it.” She winks at me and climbs on the back of it, her body sticking to mine, hands clutching tightly at my waist. Her touch lighting a flame inside me.

“I hope you're not afraid, because I don't know the term brake, speed defines me.” “Don't worry, I like the taste of adrenaline too.” She whispers seductively in my ear, sending shivers down my spine, and without hesitation I start the engine. …

Once in front of her house, I stop and let her get off. Y/N takes off my helmet and hands it back. “Thank you my “two-wheeled” knight for this wonderful ride.” “Anytime, my lady.” Y/N moves dangerously close to me and in a second I feel her soft lips caress mine, gently running her bottom lip over my piercing, I don't stop her, instead I catch her lips in a deep kiss.

After a good few minutes, I let go of her, we exchange numbers, and I watch how she goes inside her house. Once I'm sure she’s in I lean my head back and with two fingers touch my slightly sore lips. I smile like an idiot and place my helmet back on, the smell of her perfume still lingering in it. I set off on the road again and once I reach my house, I throw myself on the bed and remember my victories of the day. After all, I was lucky I stopped at the gas station. … Time flew by quickly, my days were spent sleeping and resting my bones, and my nights were spent dominating the race course and a woman named Y/N. 

I considered myself an even bigger winner than I was before. Victory after victory later consumed either in my bed or hers, a story ripped from the fiction books. Lying in my  way-too-familiar bed, with a cigarette between my lips and a woman dear to me in my arms, only city lights lighting the room.

Y/N's slender fingers touched the tattooed skin of my arm, occasionally tracing the lines with her fingernails. “And when did you say your next race was?” I turn my head towards her, Y/N smiles seductively at me and moves closer to leave a kiss on my lips, her sweet aroma mixing with the taste of tobacco.

“Tomorrow, wanna come?” I put out my cigarette and lean down to leave hot kisses on her bare chest. Her hands tangle in my hair tugging it gently. “Am I invited?” she asks while playing with the strands of it “You always were. When you're out there and I see your face in public, I feel the desire to win even more.” “I don't think winning races makes you feel like a winner anymore, I see you want something more.” she says with lustful eyes, while her hands start tracing my back. “You're right, now I need you to make me feel victorious.” My hands slip under the sheet and begin to caress her naked waist gently. “I'll be there, as usual.” “Good choice, I do need you.” “Now or then?” she asks and I look deep into her eyes. “Always”. And with that our lips join again in a new night of passion. … Red, yellow and …Again…I wait, this time even more impatiently for this race to start.

My hands are tightly placed on the handlebars of my motor, ready to accelerate and take, once again, the face of the suckers I was playing with all along. A tough game where a sweet victory awaits at the end is about to unfold.

Green Once the lights turn a shade of green, I turn the handlebars and start the race first, my wheels spinning like never before. 

I turn my head shallowly and lock eyes with Y/N for a few seconds.

On her a jacket in the same matte black and in front of it engraved a large gold number 7 followed by the initials JK.

Pushing my way along the winding roads, but untouched by any other competitor, I make my way through the crowd of obstacles. 

Seeing once again the familiar finish line I lean forward a little and cross it in a rush without any problems. I stop my bike in a spectacular drift, but in a second the atmosphere changes.

Instead of hearing voices calling my name and seeing the wave of coloured dust, I am knocked off my seat and kneeled down. 

“Jeon Jungkook, you are under arrest for participating in illegal races, you have the right to remain silent because anything you say can and will be used against you.” In front of me two female feet stop, I feel my helmet being taken off my head and I look up, my breath raging and my heart pounding in my chest. In front of me are displayed the same sparkly letters "7 JK", this time the jacket unbuttoned and under it a shiny police badge.

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook.”

That's what she tells me before turning around taking both my helmet and my heart with her.

[cozzzynook]

Can we have more of when the team found out about murderbot bee? I'm very interested!

-ratchet wanted to do a full diagnostics scan on him to make sure he was okay but bee refused because he knew what that meant. It was when he was asleep did ratchet do a full scan and found bee’s frame was covered by the one they see now. Bee is pretty pissed when he finds out but Ratchet smiling throws him off guard. It’s when Ratchet shows he’s been working non-stop to remove the current frame so bee can have his original back.

-leaking lots of leaking on Bee’s part but he hides in his room when he does because he doesn’t want anyone to see him leak.

-surprisingly its prowl who goes in to comfort him. He’s not really afraid of bee being a murderbot since he’s run in with them before. Not to mention him & bee having a steadily growing connection and bond. Bee was annoyed at first but a hug from prowl was like candy to a kid for him and bee ended up spilling he could get his original frame back.

- out of the group it’s surprisingly optimus who is the most weary about bee. The moment he sees him in his original frame, more black than yellow, sleek frame with claws and sharp fangs not to mention door wings showing he was a hybrid murder bot and no autobot insignia. Optimus was on edge.

- bulkhead still saw bee as his little buddy. He gave him a big teddy bear hug and was the first to tell bee he had pretty optics. His original optics are orange and they really are very pretty. They’re still big and have an innocent look to them especially when bulkhead pats his head careful of his sensitive floating antennas. Ratchet even gave him a hug which bumblebee returned immediately.

- its prowl who helps bee get used to his frame again. None of them are educated on wing culture so they don’t know bee is pretty nervous by how his door wings stay low. Eventually prowl figures it out and in true familial bond fashion takes bee out to the forest to talk.

- bee still doesn’t want to share that part of himself or the reason why he still hasn’t gotten the autobot symbol put on his chassis. Prowl doesn’t push but lets him open up about how he can sense optimus being weary even frightened by him. He thought it would be ratchet who would be prejudice of him not optimus.

- Prowl doesn’t take well to that information not one bit.

-optimus gets a very frightening wake up call the next cycle when its prowl hovering above Optimus as he lays in berth and covers his intake while holding a shuriken to his neck cable.

- “either you work out your fears towards bee being a murder bot or i do it for you. I trust you’ll make the right decision?”

-Optimus after a long days thinking and still remembering how frightening prowl looked hovering over his berth many many hours ago, he sits and talks with bee.

-“ i- i’m sorry bee. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just-never expected you to be a murderbot or a hybrid. I can tell by your claws and door wings. I didn’t mean to look at you any differently i just couldn’t stop myself. I was wrong to treat you different. If you can forgive me i’d love to go sparring with you.”

- a dazzling smile of innocence and door wings fluttering before resting facing out, bee forgives him even hugs him. Optimus really was trying when he said he’d love to spar with him. No one except decepticons would trust sparring with a murderbot so he really appreciated Optimus saying that.

-later that night when Optimus was half in recharge Prowl crept down from the ceiling and nodded at him smiling before leaving to go check up on bee.

- optimus had a new fear and it wasn’t bee. It was cyberninjas. Terrifying, silent, calm overprotective cyberninjas.

-“ you know you didn’t have to threaten him.”

“Someone needed to get his helmet out of his aft.”

“You’re a really good older familial.”

“Heh, I know.”

- protective younger familial bee on the battlefield when they face the cons for the first time since he went back to his original frame. Prowl got hurt by Lugnut smashing his arm in and Bee locked his sights on Lugnut only. His face shield came down and his optics burned orange just like his arm canon. His arms were small but his canon packed a punch.

- surprise from the team. Pure shock and surprise as Bee went pede to optic with Lugnut. Literally. Bee smashed his optic in and tried to claw off his servo in retaliation for hurting his familial. He was halfway through the war plating till Blitzwing grabbed him and his hot head face plate declared his spark for him.

- that knocked out all the fight in everyone, bee included.

- blitzwing was serious he was literally offering his spark to bee and bee alone.

-prowl was not having that.

- a shuriken to the optic and blitz is only half aware of bee being snatched from his servos before the autobots disappear.

- prowl getting patched up by Ratchet who keeps making jokes about prowl being an overprotective big familial.

- bee telling prowl not to worry but prowl sees the blush on his cheeks and no. Bee you can’t not him. Anyone but him.

-“jazz & lockdown are courting you. Don’t even start.”

“Thats different!”

“No way he’s a bounty hunter!”

“I can beat him!”

“Yeah cause he’s too busy being charged to actually think!” “Don’t deny i’ve seen it!”

-prowl trying to pull the “you’re too young to court,” servo and Bee just “i’m 10,000 years old i can court who i want.”

- prowl wants him to wait until he’s 1 million. Its ratchet who breaks up the argument by just telling them to go to bed in separate berths until they can settle this like grown mechs. That snaps them out of it.

- familial’s always sleep in the same berth no matter how many bots in their family. Ratchet knew this. He gave himself a pat on the back watching the two talk things out like grown mechs instead of sparklings.

- bulkhead trusts bee to make his own decisions but backs prowl up in threatening blitzwing.

- just bee assuring them if blitz tries to hurt him he’ll slit his neck cables before he even knows its coming.

- blitzwing falls more in spark and the autobots are both happy bee is safe but disturbed at how casual he said it.

- just bee being very comfortable with offling and blitz offering his spark again that same cycle.

Hope you like this, sorry i took so long to respond

[ivanttakethis]

Post Row 2 [Pt. 1] - Tov’s Log

————————————————————

Tov blocked the guard’s only exit.

If they wanted to leave without answering, they’d have to go through her first.

She was well aware that she wasn’t much of a fight physically, standing only 150cm (151cm, if she rounded up) and weighing 40kg soaking wet.

But her glare had made people twice her size flinch more than once.

At the very least, the guard looked nervous.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” They said quickly.

“You’re a terrible liar.” She hissed.

They held their hands out like they were trying to calm a spooked animal, “Tov… let’s not do this.”

The guard failed to realize that they had already yielded.

“So you do know what I’m talking about?”

“I-I never said that!” Their voice cracked, “Now let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what I want to know.”

The guard moved their hand to the radio on their left hip, “I’m not afraid to call backup on you.”

They’re definitely afraid of calling for backup on me.

“I’ll tell them about the notes.”

“They’ll just throw you in isolation!”

“And I’ll take you down with me.” She said. “Start talking.”

A growl of frustration ripped its way out of their throat and they threw their hands up, “I can’t!”

Now we’re getting somewhere.

Tov pushed, “Why not?”

“Because he told me not to!”

The guard’s outburst shocked them both into silence.

They made an aborted move to slap a hand over their mouth, but it was already too late.

He?

“He?” She repeated, “Who’s he?”

They shook their head fervently, “I’ve already said too much—”

Their holstered radio crackled to life, “Prem? Come in, Prem. Have you resolved Subject-020547’s medical emergency?”

The guard — Prem — looked between Tov and their radio.

“Don’t answer.” She ordered.

“They’ll come looking for me if I don’t say something. Then we’re both fucked.” Prem’s tone was just shy of full on panic.

Nope.

You’re not getting out of this that easy.

“Tell me who wrote the notes and I’ll cover for you.”

“And if I don’t?”

Tov raised an eyebrow, “Do you really want to find out?”

She could almost see the scale in Prem’s head weighing the pros and cons.

They couldn’t rough her up to get her out of the way. Someone would notice new bumps and bruises on their “Star of the Season”. And any sort of altercation would draw too much attention.

They couldn’t threaten her either. She wasn’t scared of them. If anything, they seemed to be scared of her.

Tov’s hostage was out of options, and they both knew it.

Prem’s shoulders slumped, a sigh hissing out of their helmet, “Fine, fine. I’ll tell you.” They grumbled. “The guard’s name is Elias; he’s a medic.”

Elias…

Tov didn’t know anyone named Elias.

Though apparently he knew her.

But how?

“Where do I find him?” She asked.

“He takes the night shift standing guard outside your room.” Prem said. “Our code word is ‘Stargazer’.”

How nice of them to stick to her theme.

“Good.” Tov nodded, satisfied with the new information. “Now you can answer your call.”

Prem unhooked the radio and pressed a yellow button on the side, “This is Prem responding. Subject-0202547’s medical emergency has been resolved. No further action required.”

The radio crackled again, “Copy that. Return to your post as soon as possible.”

Tov finally stepped out of the way of the door.

Prem looked like they wanted the floor to swallow them whole.

“At least tell Elias I put up a fight.” They muttered as they passed her.

“Sure thing.”

The door shut behind Prem, once again leaving the two of them on opposite sides.

They both knew Tov wasn’t going to tell Elias any of that.

———

When Tov returned to her room after dinner that night, a different guard was posted outside her door.

They were taller than Prem, with strong shoulders and a toned frame.

The quintessential build of a soldier.

Tov could see the medic patch on the back of their right arm.

This must be Elias.

She’d had all day to think through a strategy. In the end, she settled on something simple.

Once in her room, Tov clicked on her bedside lamp and pressed the medical emergency button next to it.

A few seconds later, the guard opened the door and came inside.

She held up her arm with the medical band fastened around her wrist, “I need my band recalibrated.”

The guard didn’t miss a beat, nodding once, “Follow me.” His voice was deeper than Prem’s, a little more mature too.

Could he be Prem’s superior?

Tov let the guard lead her down the hall and around the corner, into the service elevator.

He pressed the button for the clinic floor after she stepped inside. The doors slid shut and the elevator slowly began to descend.

Aside from the faint whirring of the cables, the car was silent.

Tov wasn’t even sure if the guard was breathing.

“So,” She started, keeping her voice even, “I hear you’re a fan of mine.”

No reaction.

She was expecting that.

She hadn’t used the code word.

“I don’t have a name for my fans yet, but I want it to stay consistent with my theme.” She continued, looking over at him. “How does Stargazers sound?”

The guard’s arms tensed.

Tov suppressed a knowing smile.

Got you.

————————————————————

Tov may be a little unhinged, but she gets results.

Everyone say hello to Prem (Tov’s hostage) and Elias (Tov’s #1 fan*) 👋

*Elias heavily disputes this claim.

I had to split this log into two parts so it’s not crazy long. Next part is in the works right now.

[wizardofarles]

LYKMC Ch.16 Sneak Peek

Laurent’s rage was a cold thing; a dead weight he dragged behind him through the shadowed streets of Arles like a corpse. It made no noise, offered no insights. It wanted only to be still and fall apart—to lie down and rot. But he dragged it onward, scraping down the sidewalks toward the one place it wanted least of all to go; home.

The house was dark when it came into view. Only the lamppost out front remained on; a lighthouse beacon burning through the dark. This way to shore, it screamed, this way to wreckage! So that way Laurent went. Home. There was nowhere else to go.

A shadow grew from his feet, stretching out in front of him on the driveway. Laurent glanced over his shoulder just as the roar reached his ears, and saw a single round light like a fallen star shooting down the road right toward him where he stood. He stepped out of its path just in time to avoid being struck by the motorcycle as it careened to a stop, tires squealing as they skidded against the asphalt in the place he’d just been standing.

The rider killed the engine and ripped off his helmet, releasing a spill of shaggy hair that dimly reflected the yellow lamplight. “Jesus! I almost hit you!” Auguste exclaimed, the wide whites of his eyes glittering faintly. “What the hell are you doing skulking around in the dark?”

“Shhh!” Laurent hissed, glancing back toward the house. The windows remained dark, no sign of life behind the glass.

“Ohh, I get it,” Auguste said, dismounting clumsily. He lowered his voice to a loud whisper, his teeth flashing proudly as he grinned. “You snuck out!”

“You’re drunk.” Laurent could smell the alcohol on him from six feet away.

“Did you go to a party?” His brother took a wobbly step toward him, reaching out with a gloved hand. “C’mon, you can tell me.”

Laurent dodged his hand with a backward step. “Yeah, Auguste,” he said dryly. “I was at a party.”

“Cool,” Auguste said awkwardly, his excitement all dried up. He scratched the back of his neck, the leather of their father’s jacket creaking as he moved. “Did you have fun?”

“No.”

Silence fell between them like a curtain. Nicaise’s ring was burning a hole in Laurent’s pocket. It took all his conscious control to resist the urge to touch it; to close his fist around it.

He crossed his arms and looked his brother up and down, from his wrinkled jeans to his greasy hair to the dark bruise staining his jaw. “You look like shit.”

Auguste let out a breath of laughter, looking down at himself with a shrug. “Yeah.”

“What are you doing here?”

“What am I …?” He blinked in confusion. “I’m coming home.”

“I thought you lived with Jord now.”

“Laurent, I—”

“Or aren’t you planning to move in with your new girlfriend and her fiancé?” He expelled a sharp laugh, throwing his head back to gaze up at the winking stars. “What a fucking mess.”

Auguste’s brow furrowed. “I’m not dating anyone. Where did you hear that? Did Damen say something to you?” The tension in his brow suddenly released as something appeared to dawn on him. “Have you been spying on me?”

“Do you think she loves you?” Laurent said. There was a tightness in his chest, behind his ribs. He pushed his words through a constricting throat, and they cut like shards of shattered glass on their way out. “You’re nothing to her. You’re a plaything. And you’re too stupid to even see it.”

He turned away and started down the stone walkway, leaving Auguste to work through the anger and confusion that battled for control of his face.

“Hey,” Auguste called out as Laurent was climbing the shallow steps up to the door, halting him. “Were you there, in Eden? The club. Was … oh,” Laurent glanced back to see a look of horror take hold of his brother’s face. “Was Torveld there?”

Laurent did not answer, just walked into the house and closed the door behind him, remembering the need for stealth only just in time to press the latch in gently. With numbness in his heart, he seemed to float up the stairs on muscle memory.

Once in his room, he hid Nicaise’s ring in his jewelry box, tucking it into a small velvet-lined box that held another ring—a gold band with a blue sapphire that matched his earring. After a moment of hesitation, he reached under his collar to grab the pendant of Saint Michael and pulled the necklace off over his head. He dropped that into the box too, and locked it back up before returning it to its hiding place amidst the shadows under his bed.

A knock on his door sent a jolt through him. “Laurent?” His brother’s soft call was muffled through the wood. “Can I come in?”

Laurent didn’t panic; he’d locked his door. He still had a few seconds before he would have to answer. He rushed over to his desk and taped the jewelry box key to the underside of it—where he’d been hiding it since the day Auguste tore his room apart—then took one last glance at his bed to make sure the box was fully concealed.

Auguste’s fist was raised when Laurent opened the door; poised to knock again. He lowered it when Laurent motioned for him to come inside. In the overhead light, Laurent could see the flush staining Auguste’s cheeks and creeping down his neck.

“Laurent,” his brother began when the door was safely shut. “I know I seem … I’m not mad at you, I promise. Please, just—has Torveld behaved inappropriately with you?”

Laurent leaned back so that he was almost sitting on his desk and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What do you mean ‘inappropriately’?”

“Has he,” Auguste said haltingly, clearly fighting to keep a grimace off his face, “you know … made you feel uncomfortable, or touched you anywhere he shouldn’t be touching you, or—”

“No, Gus. Jesus,” Laurent pushed up off the desk and crossed to his bed, where he began moving the remnants of his homework off the bed to the nightstand. “Why would you ask me that?”

Something in Auguste’s eyes hardened, and he placed his hands on his hips. “So I didn’t see Torveld kissing you at that club?”

“What? You’re delusional. I haven’t been to any club.”

His eyes narrowed, searching Laurent’s face. “Are you lying to me?”

“No,” Laurent snapped, “I’m not fucking lying to you.”

“Hey, watch it,” Auguste said, throwing up his palms. “It’s just something I thought I saw. And … something Kastor said.” His brow furrowed in thought. “He said it was you who told him I was with Jokaste. How did you know that?”

“Intuition,” said Laurent, straightening his spine.

“Intuition?” Auguste scoffed. “You expect me to believe that?”

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “Honestly? No.”

Auguste shook his head. “Why did you tell Kastor? How did you even get in touch with him?”

“I didn’t. I told Uncle.”

“Uncle.”

“I told him what I suspected, and he tracked your phone to the club. We were worried about you. You’ve been acting strange, not like yourself. Drunk at all hours, getting into fights, disappearing for days on end,” he said with a blistering look that made the color in Auguste’s cheeks deepen. “Uncle must have told Kastor. Maybe he was trying to stop it before it got out of hand. To protect you.” Or to protect himself.

Laurent suddenly recalled something his uncle had said about Damen. He is circling too close to our walls.

“Why is Jokaste so interested in you?” he asked Auguste.

[ceilingfan5]

An AU, you say? Werewolf bike gang!

“Where were you?” Merle needles, hardly waiting for Taako to take his helmet off. Taako spites him with a long slow motion shake of the hair first. Bitch can wait. 

“Yeah, Taako, we can’t start dance practice without you,” Magnus says, folding his stupid beefy man beef arms. 

“Sorry, I thought I joined a fucking werewolf bike gang?” Taako sets his helmet on his motorcycle and gives them both the stink eye. “Not fucking, Twinkle Town.” 

“What the fuck are we gonna do, not dance?” Magnus says, like there is a response to something like that. Taako rolls his eyes and goes inside, forcing them both to follow him. “Hang on, what’s that smell?”

“What smell, no smell.” Taako’s heart starts pounding. “I went to Arby’s. There, I admitted it. Cease the Hague.” 

“No cessation without explanation!” Merle declares, pumping his fist in the air. “I smell it too.” 

“There’s no fucking smell!” Taako hurries in and knocks open his locker. “I smell regular! It’s a regular dude smell!”

“It’s a dude smell, alright.” Magnus hustles right after him. Taako’s nerves are going to make him transform, and they haven’t even started yet. “You’re with a new guy?”

“Yeah! My main man Arby! Can we fucking dance, Jesus???”

“Oh, now he wants to dance,” Merle teases. 

“I want to eat your heart and get blood all over the wood floor, is what I wanna do,” Taako growls. Merle laughs, but his eyes are a steady, wolfy yellow. 

“You don’t have to tell us!” Magnus throws his hands in the air. “I just thought you would!! Cause we’re a pack, is all!”

“Some fucking pack,” Taako grumbles. “He’s-”

“Oh, so he is real.”

“Merle, shut up!” Magnus hisses. 

Taako’s going to start biting. He feels like a cornered animal. 

“He’s fine, and he’s- sweet. Okay? And he’s not going to bother us, so stop fucking- thinking about him at all, you hear me? If I even hear you thinking about him, I swear to god-”

“Aw, he’s sweet?” Magnus’ eyes may as well be heart shaped. “Can he ride?” 

“Not yet,” Taako admits, his face warming. “But he loved it when I took him ‘round the loop on Garyl.”

“Did you go fast?”

“Jesus, Merle, did I go fast? What am I, a ken doll? OBVIOUSLY I went fast, where’s the sex in following the speed limit? Who the fuck do you think I am?” 

“Did he hold on tight?” Magnus literally bounces with excitement. 

“...Yeah,” Taako has to say, fighting back the smile. “I’m gonna get another helmet for him.” 

“Gross,” Merle says, with deep love and affection. 

“Oh man, when do we get to meet him???” Magnus puts his pleading face on. Taako refuses to look at those puppy dog eyes. 

“NEVER! Fucking never. Never, ever, ever, ever, ever. Can we dance now? I’m going to die. I’m in hell and you two idiots keep turning up the thermostat.” 

“Let the flames begin,” Merle says ominously, but he goes and starts the music, and Taako’s burning face gets a temporary break from scrutiny. 

“I hope he’s perfect,” Magnus sighs. “We needed some more romance.” 

“ROMANCE IS DEAD AND I ATE ITS BONES,”  Taako hollers, embarrassed beyond belief. 

“Bones??”