#this one’s extra sweet gang

[darksigns-exe]

A little birthday themed Jolly fluff for the lovely @circle-with-me 🩷🩷🩷 I was going to drop this into your inbox but it got a little out of hand 😅

Jolly on your birthday. Sweet boy has made plans in advance bc you can’t tell me that he doesn’t go all out for his loved ones.

Step one of his master plan is breakfast. He’s getting all of your favourites onto the table. Whatever you like he’s got it. Fresh juice, cookbook pretty pancakes, a very beautifully arranged assortment of fruit, croissants truly whatever you want. He bought flowers and there’s a little wrapped box right in front of where you’ll sit. Just a little thing (the real thing comes later)

For step two he’s pampering his darling. While he’s planned a whole day for you, he hasn’t stuffed it too full because he doesn’t want it to feel as if there’s no room to breathe. He got the face masks you like but never buy because they’re just a little bit too pricey and a brand new scented candle that fills the bathroom with that soft freshly washed linen scent.

Next stop is the second hand store you like for a little browse. Even if it takes a little convince you eventually let him pay for the pretty dress you’ve been looking at for a while.

After that he’ll take you to a cosy little café for a mid day treat.

You’ll head home for a bit after that. Watch a little movie, maybe get a little comfy and cosy if you catch my drift.

Later in the day he’ll take you out for a nice dinner. Jolly made a reservation at one of your bucket list restaurants as a special treat. It’s pricey but nothing is too expensive for his love. The food is fantastic, the service is excellent and the man next to you is the cherry on top of all of it. His hand doesn’t leave your thigh the entire night. He steals kisses once in a while and it always makes you giggle a little. God you’re so in love with this man, even though this is far from your first year together.

After dinner you’re going on a little walk together. You’re perfectly content with how the day went but of course Jolly has one more thing up his sleeve. Just when you think that things can’t get better he hands you another wrapped box. This one feels lighter than the first one.

You unwrap it and maybe you already knew that it would be that but actually seeing it makes your heart skip in the best way possible.

“Jolly?” You ask, not wanting to assume that it’s more than just a very beautiful ring.

“Yes, älskling?”

And when you look over to him he’s already down on one knee and how could you possibly say no to him.

[amiableness]

hiii!

first, i’m loving this dad!james series its genuinely so heart fulfilling so thank you for taking time out of your day to write

now i’m not sure if this will spark any interest but maybe dad!james and r have been dating for a like a month but no one knows and then the whole gang (or just rem and sirius) come over and like James is like extra touchy with her which like he was before but more so now so they’re both kinda like ??? until james is like she’s my girlfriend

ily

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 977 words

thank you sm babe! i love writing for you all! hope you like it <3

“Do they seem off to you?” Remus murmurs, his gaze following James as he heads into the kitchen. He had muttered something about helping you with the tea, but it wasn’t like you really needed the help.

The whole afternoon, Remus had noticed how James couldn’t keep his eyes off you, his gaze filled with that familiar, adoring warmth. That in itself wasn’t unusual—James had always looked at you that way. But what really caught Remus off guard was how openly you were returning those looks, your eyes just as soft, filled with the same affection. It wasn’t just the casual brush of his fingers against yours or his hand resting briefly on your lower back as you passed. It was also in the subtle, consistent touches—his knee brushing against yours under the table or the way his hand would linger on your arm during conversations.

You both appeared entirely and undeniably in love.

Sirius, however, is lost in his own world, meticulously taking apart one of Henry’s Lego sets just to rebuild it. “No,” he replies, not even looking up, his fingers expertly snapping the pieces back together. “Why? Did you notice something?”

“He hasn’t stopped touching her since we’ve got here.” Remus continues to stare at the doorway, as if expecting it to provide an answer somehow. The wall separating the kitchen from the living room blocks his view, but he can’t shake the feeling that something is different.

“He’s always like that with her.” Sirius says, focusing on a new Lego piece that refuses to snap into place. His frustration is clear as he twists and turns the piece, trying to make it fit.

“No,” Remus replies, shaking his head with a hint of uncertainty. “I’m sure I heard him call her ‘baby’ earlier.”

Sirius finally looks up, curiosity piqued by Remus’s tone. “When did you hear that?”

“When we first got here,” Remus says, his gaze distant as he recalls the moment. “James was talking to her in a more intimate way than usual.”

Sirius considers this, his frown softening slightly. “Oh, he probably did. He’s always calling her something sweet,” Sirius says with a casual shrug. “Lovesick is what he is.”

“He’s never called her ‘baby,’” Remus insists, his brow furrowing. “It’s different, I swear it.”

Sirius sighs and shakes his head, still engrossed in his Lego project. “We’ve thought that for years, and nothing’s ever really changed. Maybe this is just another nickname of his.”

Remus swears he hears you sigh James' name from the kitchen, light and airy, and before Sirius can react, Remus is on his feet, tugging at his shirt with a sense of urgency. Sirius starts to protest, a frown forming on his face, but Remus doesn’t bother with an explanation. “C’mon,” he insists, pulling him toward the kitchen without another word.

“Nothing’s different, Rem. They’re just—” Sirius’s words die in his throat as he catches sight of you both.

James has you perched on the edge of the counter, his body firmly nestled between your legs, the warmth of him pressing against you in all the right ways. One hand cradles your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he tilts your head just so, deepening the kiss. His other hand grips your hip, fingers curling into the soft flesh where your shirt has bunched up, his touch pulling a gasp from you. The kiss is slow, unhurried, every brush of his lips against yours filled with a lingering desire, like he’s savoring every second. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him closer, and the way your body arches into his, seeking more of him, makes it clear that neither of you wants to let go. The heat between you is palpable, each movement charged with a quiet intensity that speaks of just how much you want each other.

This is not the first time you’ve kissed clearly.

Remus clears his throat, a sound that cuts through the charged silence. You pull away from James, your breath coming in short, startled gasps. Your lips are swollen and pouty, still tingling from the intensity of the kiss. You clutch at James, reluctant to let go, as if the contact alone is grounding you.

James quickly tugs your shirt back into place, his hands lingering for a moment as he smooths out the fabric with a touch that’s both tender and possessive. His gaze flicks over to the boys, a mix of surprise and awkwardness crossing his face as he registers their stunned expressions. The heat in the room seems to intensify, the once-private moment now exposed under their watchful eyes.

“What the hell?” Sirius exclaims, his voice sharp with disbelief. “We’re out here building Legos—” 

“I wasn’t building—” Remus begins to protest, but Sirius cuts him off.

“—as we wait for our tea, and you two are in here snogging?”

“No, we weren’t sno—” You start to protest, but Remus and Sirius cut you off with pointed looks.

“When did this happen?” Sirius demands, clearly miffed. “Because that’s obviously not the first time you’ve kissed her.” His tone reflects his hurt that James, his best friend, hadn’t mentioned anything about this development.

James clears his throat, his face a mix of embarrassment and defensiveness. “About a month ago,” he admits.

“So you two are just messing around?” Remus asks, raising an eyebrow. James’s expression turns from defensive to offended, his brows knitting together.

“No, you prat! She’s my girlfriend.” James snaps, his voice tinged with frustration.

“Bloody hell, it only took you about eight years.” Remus retorts, a smirk playing on his lips. You let out a laugh, unable to help yourself at Remus’s quip.

Sirius, his annoyance settling, lets out an exaggerated sigh, “I expect another niece or nephew as compensation for making us all wait this long for you two to get together.”

please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write! 💌

[suugarbabe]

omg ok ok ok, I love your Sirius, so, I'm wondering if you could write a sirius x fem!reader who is maybe the grumpy to his sunshine? he's the one who is always super flirty and outgoing and the life of the party, and she would sort of rather die but begrudgingly puts up with it for him? OH but maybe one day she has a bad day and he gets to see a softer side of her 🥹 IDK idk I'm too excited to request this is so bad sorry my love xoxoxoxo kisses for youuuu

I am *living* for this okay. l i v i n g. because Sirius is my sunshine to my grumpy. I am the grumpy reader. okay let’s do this baby. kiss kiss kiss yoooou <3

Opposites attract right? At least that’s what others seemed to deem as the explanation for your relationship. Sirius was in a category all his own as far as you were concerned, but that category was nearly the opposite of where people would place you. Sirius was a people person, it came so easily to him it was like he never even had to try. It annoyed you to no fucking end when you first met him.

Being a descendent of the most noble and ancient House of Black had its advantages. Like incredibly sharp cheekbones, beautiful alabaster skin that contrasted perfectly with onyx locks and eyes so deep and blue you could drown in them. Sirius exuded this energy that seemed to pull people towards him; like he had his own force field. He could walk into a room and everything shifted, like he breathed extra life into the area and everyone was desperate to live.

Most people when asked about you would say you were…short-tempered. Your housemates tended to steer clear of your presence. Which was fine with you because you were easily annoyed by most of them. Ravenclaws were known for being know-it-alls and truthfully you found it rather repugnant. Thankfully you had Pandora as company. Usually her overly sweet demeanor would drive you insane, but you knew more than the rest. Being a Rosier sorted into Ravenclaw essentially meant she was the black sheep of her family. But that seemed to be your soft spot.

Pandora would tease that this was why you started falling for Sirius. Despite your more grumpy demeanor, you were never quite as grumpy when it came to Sirius. Hearing the ins and outs of what was going on over breaks from Pan made you want to take care of him.

The first time Sirius brought you around the rest of the marauders it was not without sideways glances. “Er, Pads, you seemed to have picked up a shadow,” James nodded towards your frame just behind Sirius. “Sod off, Potter,” you’d grumbled, Sirius’s palm big and flat against your back moving in slow circles. “S’alright love, he’s just teasing. Be nice, Prongs or she’ll hex you into next week and I won’t be able to stop her.”

“Not that you’d try to stop her, would ya mate. I’m Remus, but all these miserable gits call me Moony,” Remus gave a small fingered wave as he plopped onto the couch ceremoniously. He would eventually turn into the one that’d help you gang up on Sirius, if ever needed.

On this particular night, though, you were feeling just…down. It wasn’t often you felt like this, despite outward appearances. However when this feeling did hit you, there was only one person that could fully get you out of it. You knew that the Gryffindors were having their annual Halloween party. Which meant if you wanted to find Sirius that’s where he’d be.

You had of course agreed to come to the party ages ago; much to do with Sirius begging and pouting his pretty pink lips and sucking you in with his pretty blue eyes. Sirius had insisted that costumes were required, “Even for an angel like yourself” which earned him a particularly large eye roll. Thus, you threw on some fishnet tights and a black minidress with your signature black boots. Atop your head a small pair of black cat ears, thanks to Pandoras charm work.

She was dressed as an actual angel, charmed halo floating above her nearly white blonde locks. Any muggle would think they were truly hallucinating if they would have seen her. You greeted the fat lady with the password, “Hiddlypunks,” and she swung open. Within the first few steps one would be none the wiser. But two steps into the commonroom and the barrier was broken, music and singing and murmuring filling the room.

“Drinks yes? Please yes,” you nodded at Pandora who found her way to to the drink table to create what you were hoping were very strong concoctions. You didn’t need to look around in order to find him. That magnetic pull leading you closer and closer until you heard the boisterous laugh of Sirius Black. You were quiet in your approach, not drawing any attention to yourself on purpose. Even though you yearned for his touch you knew how much he enjoyed entertaining and didn’t want to interrupt.

Remus spots you of course, the observant bastard. He throws a playful wink in your direction; you responding with a middle finger and a forced smile. Sirius is in the middle of recalling “a truly amazing play, great play” from the last quidditch match, but Remus’s low chuckle from your display of affection towards him causes your boyfriend to turn around in search of who could have possibly pulled attention away from him.

His furrowed brows disperse as you catch his sights and smile lights his face, “Well, hello there, Kitten.” You give a weak smile in response, “Hi Siri.” His brows are furrowed once more. The others try to greet you but immediately you’re swept away to a farther corner of the room. Sirius swirls his wand around you both, muttering a quick muffliato, coating you both in silence. “Okay, out with it what’s wrong?” Sirius’s hands were laid gently on your waist, head dipped down to force your avoidant eyes to keep contact with his. “Come now, pet. You know I can’t do anything without knowing what’s wrong,” he urged, giving your waist a small squeeze.

You met his eyes and yours immediately began to brim with tears. In an instant Sirius has engulfed you, one hand grasping your head and holding you close to his chest while the other wraps around your back, squeezing you as close to him as possible and hoping the pressure of his pull is soothing. His heart breaks ever so slightly at the muffled sobs against him. Your emotions seem to be everywhere but embarrassment is toping the list as you begin to pull away, aggressively wiping your face with the heel of your palms, hoping no one but Sirius is noticing you in this state.

"I-I'm sorry Siri, 've just..." you trailed off, choked breaths causing your intake of air to stutter. Sirius's touch has yet to cease, one hand cupping your cheek gently while the other finds solace in the dip of your waist, "Rough day, love?" You nod once, looking to the ceiling and willing any tears to fall back into your head instead of trailing down your face. "Alright, let's go," his head tilts towards the spiral staircase that would lead to his dorm.

You sniffle quickly, shaking your head, "N-no, I'll be okay. I'm not going to take you away from the party, Siri. Not gonna steal you from your friends like that." Sirius can't help but scoff, "Fuck my friends." You laugh a little at his brashness and the sound makes Sirius grin again, "There you are, love." He takes a quick peek over his shoulder, "Now. Let's just go tell the others we're going up, Remus will make sure we're left alone for a good few hours then, hmm?"

You nod, agreeing, knowing that there's no use in arguing with Sirius when he's made up his mind. His fingers laced with yours and the cool feeling of his rings are such a contrast the the heat in your body that it's calming. He gives your hand an extra squeeze as you approach the group. You decide to try and stay hidden behind Sirius, almost burying your face against his shoulder blade, barely peeking one eye out to see the others.

Sirius explains that he's feeling tired and wants to go back to the room with you. James does not look convinced in the slightest. He looks even more confused by your seemingly shy and reserved demeanor. He doesn't think he's ever seen you look so...vulnerable. Remus is the only person you make eye contact with and he gives you a simple wink and a nod. The reassurance from the smallest action making you sigh in relief.

It's almost like Sirius can feel you relax slightly, turning to you and asking if you're ready to go. You give a feeble nod and a shy wave to the others, most of which look a little skeptical but say no protests in return.

When you make it to his dorm Sirius immediately goes to his trunk, pulling out his favorite concert tee and handing it to you. You take off your outfit slowly, pulling his shirt over your head and letting it consume you, the additional scent of Sirius now enveloping your body and adding to your relief. Sirius changes himself and then pulls back the duvet, "In you go, pet."

You oblige, going and getting comfortable on your back. Sirius climbs in after you, crawling over your form and placing two soft kisses on either apple of your cheek before giving you the most gentle yet firm kiss. He rests his head against yours, asking you almost in a whisper, "D'you wanna talk about it?"

"No," your response so soft it would've been missed had it not been only you two in the room, "Will you just...lay on me?" Sirius kissed you softly once more, scooching down just enough to lay his head on your chest. He wrapped his arms around your, relaxing himself and allowing his full weight to now lay on top of you. The weight of your boyfriend was the grounding you needed, your breathing now finally able to even out.

[blondwhxrewrites]

Hello! This is my first time writing in and I just want you to know how much I love love love your blog!!

I was wondering if you’ve ever written anything about brothersbestfriend!Mattheo. I just imagine he’d feel super guilty at first, fooling around with his best friend’s sister. Maybe he’d try to break it off but reader would get all sad and pouty, insisting that her brother will never find out.

Whether the reader is biologically related or adopted is up to you. I also did not intend for it to be this long—ANOTHER ADDITION TO THE PRINCESS MULTIVERSE

Oh my god—You being Theo's pretty younger sister and Mattheo just being absolutely obsessed with you!!! He always thought you were interesting. You've always just kind of been there, kind of tucked in a corner, watching as he, Theo, and Draco played together. You were weird in your own little quirky way—quiet, introverted, but not shy. No, you weren't at all shy, just simply quiet. 

Mattheo always felt drawn to you in a way he really couldn't understand. You two just coexisted with each other, and it stayed that way until his sixth year, when you suddenly became 'beautiful' in the eyes of society. He always knew you were gorgeous, the most beautiful girl he had ever met, but now other boys and even some girls were starting to realize it too. The whole Slytherin gang becomes your impromptu guards on the orders of Theodore Nott. Suddenly, Mattheo is walking you to all of your classes and being forced to watch over you at parties—and that's when it really starts to go downhill for him.

You're the most wonderful being to ever exist, and holy shit, does it hit Mattheo HARD. You tend to ramble about the weirdest things like human anatomy, and your army of stuffed animals, and he's just nodding along admiring you like you're some sort of goddess. You give him little trinkets as gifts and he has a whole entire box full of them because he wouldn't ever dare throw them away. He's in love—there's no denying it. He'd done the one thing he swore he would never do...he fell for his best friend's sister. You immediately notice because, A, you've been watching Mattheo your whole life, and B, you know how to read people like a book. So, being the little shit you secretly are, you one day put on your prettiest outfit and waltz on down to one of the infamous Slytherin get-togethers, which is basically just a secret rave with how intense they can get. 

Of course, Theo is huffing and puffing while being forced to watch his little sister flirt with some random girl and Mattheo—oh dear lord he is FUMING. At that point, he knows you know because the whole entire time you're sending him little glances and faux innocent smiles.

You're strewn across his bed, crying and whining as he brutally thrusts into you not even caring if you're a virgin or not because you had the absolute audacity to be a brat and he made sure you were absolutely okay with him being rough beforehand. He's whispering just the NASTIEST things into your ear. 'yeah—you like being fucked by your brothers best friend? If I had known you were such a slut I would've done this a lot earlier' His hand is wrapped around your throat, he's got you in doggy style, pressing your head down against the mattress and watching your eyes roll back. Your cunt is just gushing around him and he knows if he doesn't stop he's gonna become addicted to your pussy—which isn't really saying a lot since he's already addicted to you. By the time he's done with you you've cum more times then you can count and you are one second from just passing out.

It's like his whole entire personality switches because he's suddenly cooing sweet praises as he cleans you both up. He's pressing soft kisses to your lips as he tells you just how much he adores you, and Mattheo just knows he can't let this go—he can't let you go. He eventually, and very hesitantly, lets you go back to your dorm after making extra sure nobody is around.

That night, he just stays up, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He's in a messy situation and he knows it, but honestly he doesn't really seem to care about how Theo would react if he ever found out about you two. In fact, the next day he pulls Theo into an empty classroom and locks the door. Theo doesn't even have time to react before Mattheo just spills everything. He could've ranted about his love for you for hours on end, and he's prepared to do that—that is, until Theo yells at him to shut up and is like, 'Mate, I knew this would eventually happen, so I've had years to prepare myself for this. My sister has been in love with you for years, and I'm sick of it, so please, for the love of Merlin, just take care of her and we are good.'

You are in your dorm reading about how bodies rot over time when Mattheo just busts in and grabs your book, placing it down, and kisses you silly. 'You're mine' he states as if you don't have a choice in the matter—and you really don't. The rest of your day is just spent in your dorm with him in blissful domestic peace.

Theo can finally rest in peace because HOLY SHIT—Mattheo is as dumb as rocks because how the fuck did it take him LITERAL years to realize he has feelings for you 😐

[angelbaby-fics]

Cg stucky x little reader x little Peter where he is the older bro and very protective about his little sis and they go to the avenger tower but she is in babyspace and non-verbal and he won't let anyone near her and is like "nooooo she to tiny you make her owie" and when someone else than their caregivers try to pick her up he Hit the person and get punished by daddies

Baby's Bodyguard

Word Count: 800

A/N: This is such a sweet idea!!!! I love big bro Peter & there's gonna be a lot more of him coming in the future I think 💕 Also nobody yell at me but I haven't actually watched Hawkeye & I don't know anything about Kate imsosorry enjoy!! 💕

Joining the Rogers-Barnes family as their precious and littlest baby was the greatest thing that happened to everyone involved, but nobody took on a greater pride than your big bubba Peter. Steve and Bucky had been worried at first that he wouldn’t take it well, no longer being an only child and the absolute center of their attention. To their surprised delight, however, Peter took on his new older sibling responsibilities with a soldier’s pride. 

Any time you were out on an errand or playing in the park, Peter took it upon himself to keep a watchful eye on you, even though your daddies were more than capable. Whenever you weren’t in your daddies’ arms, you were holding Peter’s hand. At the playground, he’d go down the slide first to make sure it wasn’t too fast, and then wait at the bottom to catch you as you followed. When you ordered food in a restaurant, Peter always took the first bite to make sure it was safe. Well, maybe that one wasn’t as much about protection as it was getting an extra bite, but still. At parties and playdates it was a little easier for him to get distracted, but he always made sure you were within earshot.

That’s how you found yourself now, in one of the common rooms of the sprawling Avengers compound, stacking blocks into a castle while Peter half paid attention to Wanda’s game of pretend on the other side of the room, his focus divided between her and you. Steve was standing around the snack table talking to Bruce and Tony, while Bucky and Sam cracked open a couple of beers on the balcony. It wasn’t a party so much as a lively get-together, team members and family only. 

It also happened to be Kate’s first party with the gang. Kate had been kind to you the few times you had met her, engaged with you in your pretend games and played hide and seek around the compound with you and your friends, but you didn’t trust her all the way yet. She was new here, she didn’t know that the only ones you allowed to carry you were your daddies. When Tony announced that dinner was ready, she was the closest to you, so she picked you up to carry you into the dining room with everyone. She meant well, she handled you gently, but that meant nothing to you at this moment. 

Peter’s spidey senses noticed it first, the sharp intake of your breath as you started to wail. Poor Kate didn’t realize what was happening as everything unfolded. A sticky web splatted into the back of her shirt as Peter ran over to the two of you. 

“No! You put baby down!!” He shouted, smacking the side of Kate’s arm like a cat batting a toy; not enough to hurt her.

Kate let go of you as you flung yourself into Peter’s arms, now sobbing from both the fright of being picked up by a new person and the commotion that had followed it. Peter barely had time to comfort you when a strong voice rang out over the noise. 

“Hey!” Steve shouted, not needing to say anything else to get everyone in the room silent and staring at him. Even you had stopped crying when you saw your daddy enter the room. Peter immediately spoke out in your defense. 

“She was scaring baby!” He cried out, pointing an accusatory finger at Kate.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t! I was just bringing her to dinner!” Kate defended herself, desperately hoping the super soldier would understand. It wasn’t Steve she was worried about, though; Bucky was glaring at her with ice cold eyes. 

Steve placed a calming hand on his husband’s shoulder, calming him instantly.

“Alright, everybody calm down,” Steve said, his face softening as he turned to meet your eyes. “Are you hurt, babydoll?”

You shook your head, reaching out for your daddy’s arms. 

“I promise,” Kate said, “all I did was pick her up!” “I believe you.” Steve nodded. “She just doesn’t like getting picked up by anybody but her family. It's okay, you didn’t know yet.” Kate smiled, grateful for the forgiveness. Your tears had dried, your breathing had calmed, and your tummy had started to rumble. Steve gave you a kiss on the head, and with the chaos settled, everyone began to shuffle off to the dining room. Peter mingled in amongst them until he felt a cold hand on the back of his shirt. 

“Uh uh, not so fast kiddo,” Bucky warned, pulling the youngster aside. “I saw you hit Kate. That’s not nice and you know it.”

Peter looked down at his sneakers. “I’m sorry Baba,” he said dejectedly.

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to Kate. Bucky let Peter go, following him into the kitchen before adding: “and no dessert tonight!”

[bella-goths-wife]

What would happen if Ballerina reader started to take a liking to Belch more than the others? Like the others can't find her one day and now that they think about it they haven't seen belch either. They find them just having time together ballerina reader doing sweet things for him?

(I love Belch, he's my favorite.)

Yandere bowers gang reactions to ballerina reader preferring belch

Warnings: physical abuse, verbal abuse, forced relationships, sexual abuse, psychological abuse, injuries

I do not intend to romanticise or encourage any of the following warnings, my writing is solely for entertainment and informational purposes. I do not support or condone any and all abuse and I do not believe in any of the various themes I write about

Henry bowers:

Henry is the first to notice that you and belch had been spending a lot of time together

At first he brushed it off as belch being the ‘safest’ option for you

After all, Henry was physically abusive and unpredictable, Patrick was a sexually abuse sociopath and vic was a possessive and obsessive abuser

So Henry justified the amount of time you spent with belch as him simply being the least likely to hurt you unpredictably

But it’s when you start putting up more of a fight he becomes more aware of the fact that belch could actually be a threat

Henry had made it clear to the group from day one that even though they all were in a relationship with you, Henry was the one who owned you

And he made it clear that he would be the one to eventually marry you and have children with you after high school

And one of these ways he made it clear was that he would demand that every now and again that you would have a night with just him and you

The nights could be random or they could be a set in stone date, it depended on the month really

It mostly depended on if he thought he was losing control, he would force the command in place to remind everyone of where they stood on the hierarchy

So when he set a date in stone for a private night of just you and him, and you came and asked for the night to be rescheduled because it was belchs birthday? Let’s just say he wasn’t pleased

He didn’t even know it was belchs birthday despite knowing him since childhood, so why on earth would he let you reschedule if the cause was unimportant to him?

He denied your request and made it a point to be extra rough with you as a punishment

After that he made it so you and belch didn’t get to spend as much time together as usual by sending belch off on pointless errands and keeping you close to him at all times by optimising PDA

He will also act extremely cold and rude to belch

And because belch is sickeningly loyal and utterly manipulated by Henry, this will make him desperate to please Henry

So Henry will use this as an advantage to slowly build a wedge between you and belch to avoid belch getting the idea that you could be taken away from Henry

Patrick Hockstetter:

Patrick remained uncaring of your preference to belch until it directly affected him

Sure, he saw that you were more affectionate with belch and that you hung around him more than the others when you could

But he didn’t care about that

For the early days with your forced relationship, Patrick just views any affection as foreplay

So he saw this as belch completing the meaningless tasks of a relationship while Patrick got to enjoy the rewards

You were doing your best to manipulate Patrick for a while, so whenever he sought you out for sex you would act enthusiastically

Patrick was loving your new attitude about having sex with him, until you suddenly stopped being enthusiastic

It was like reverting back to day 1 as he had to force himself onto you to gain any sexual pleasure

During this instance, he spotted something on your thighs

There were dark, hickey like bruising around your thighs along side what looked like bite marks

Now, he knew they couldn’t be from Henry because of the night he got so high and admitted to Patrick that he tried to force himself onto you but couldn’t because the act reminded him of what happened to his mother

A confession that Patrick had been threatened to secrecy about

And he knew that vic couldn’t have done it because he was on the receiving end of Henry’s punishment of not being able to see you for a month after he got mouthy about how Henry hogged you

So that left, belch

It all clicked in Patrick’s mind

For weeks now you’d been denying Patrick’s advances and made up excuses to make him adverse for a short time

All that time, you’d evidently been fucking belch and you didn’t want Patrick to know

This enraged him

You gave something up to belch enthusiastically and happily that Patrick had to force you to give to him and you were always so withdraw during the act

It wasn’t fair to Patrick

He was higher than belch in the hierarchy, so why was belch receiving all the benefits even though he was a third tier member of the group

He thought over the possibility that belch had forced himself onto you, but Patrick knew that was highly unlikely because of how much belch adored you

The entire situation prompted Patrick to punish you with extremely rough treatment during sec and also running to Henry to report his findings

This gained belch a ban from seeing you for two months because of ‘disrespect to the hierarchy’ and it gained you a harsh beating off of Henry for not acting ‘pleasantly’ with Patrick

Patrick couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of belch pathetically trailing his eyes up and down your beaten figure with the same look as a kicked puppy who just got put outside for the night

And he couldn’t help the even smugger smirk spread across his face when Henry ordered for you to spend the night with Patrick to apologise

Because Patrick could always trust that his place as second in command in the group would always gain him more benefits

One of which would be making Henry do his dirty work, while he patiently waits until he finds out something of interest to tell him

Vic criss

Vic noticed your preference for belch the minute it spawned

He noticed how belch was the only one allowed to touch in you in certain ways without you flinching, how you would fix him up after he got a punishment from Henry

You never did that for vic

He noticed how you would smile for belch

That smile, the smile that could launch a thousand ships to battle

A smile you rarely gave to any of them

But you gave one to belch after he asked you about your newest ballet routine

How come belch got a smile and vic didn’t? That’s not fair!

It brought back the constant memories of when him and belch were younger and belch would break all of vic’s toys just to spite him

Is that what belch is doing now?

Is he using you like vic’s old toys? And is he going to break you the same way he broke them?

He deludes himself into thinking that you needed to be protected from belch

Obviously belch just wants to use you, he doesn’t love you like vic loves you

None of them do

He’d become frantically violent with you, you’d end up with bruises covering your arms from his desperate grips on them to keep you by vic’s side

Vic’s not stupid by any means, he knows that belch being the muscle of the group puts him above vic in the groups hierarchy

That puts vic in fourth in command, only above you

He knows that demanding Henry do something wouldn’t work because Henry trusts and likes belch more than him, all it would do is get vic punished and let belch know of his motives

I’d say that out of all the boys, he is the one to take his anger out on you mostly because he knows the groups dynamic doesn’t grant him the privilege of taking out his aggression on belch

That mixed with his constant possessive behaviour makes me believe that vic is the most likely to try and kill belch out of a jealous and possessive rage

He’d either end up killing belch and the other boys would turn on him or belch would end up killing him and the other boys would help him cover up the murder

Either way your wants or needs would not be factored into the equation, you follow them like a stray dog and you’ll spare yourself an isolated and painful few months

Belch Huggins

Belch already adores you

You were practically the first person to acknowledge him in a positive way, the first person to make him feel awestruck just a the sight of your pretty smile

So when you start to act sweeter to him and you do small things for him that you don’t do for the others?

He’s over joyed, literal heart eyes whenever he looks at you

But he isn’t as stupid as he knows everyone thinks he is

He knows that your preference is dangerous to both you and him

He’d try and be crueler to you in the hopes of pushing you away slightly, but without Henry’s command he doesn’t have the strength to hurt you

It would be like a lion playing with his food, so the proud lion would let the fearful mouse run back home

Now just because he’s absolutely head over heels for you, does not mean he’s not still very manipulated by Henry

So if Henry spotted the preference, he’d make belch the person to carry out your physical punishments

It would kill belch to hurt you but he had to, didn’t he?

Small seeds of doubt would enter belchs mind, and they would grow bigger and bigger as the other boys became ruder to him out of jealousy

If we were going down the route of reader manipulating belch for personal gain, they would encourage the doubt until belch felt resentment towards his friends

And if he didn’t escape with you, he’d eventually snap

And he’d definitely snap during one of your punishments

He’d watch as one of the boys hurt you and his usual sorrowful aching feelings would be replaced by an unbridled rage at your cries of agony

It would be an instant reaction to protect and defend

He’d kill all of them or he’d die trying

If he survives, he’ll escape with you and live on the run

And while he’s still abusive, it’s mostly psychological and emotional so he’s the lesser of two evils

If he dies trying, Henry would force you to dig belch’s grave and would claim that it was all your fault

And you’d be in for the roughest punishment you’d ever received

So you’d better pray that belch wins

[pedrito-friskito]

hey kay bb!! hope you're doing well 💖

mando has been on the brain lately so i'm requesting fluffy smut with him pls 🥺😫 (the yearning is *extra* today)

niiiiiiiiik my darling my dear hope you are also well 💗

ok…this got away from me. I blinked and suddenly a plot! exposition! SMUT! (multiple scenes at that) all the things. I’m a slut for Din Djarin and it really jumped out on this one.

(smut below the cut, a full plot, the helmet comes off, a bit of inexperienced!din, reader is kind of a bad ass, descriptions of bodies, unprotected p-in-v sex - wrap ur shit even if ur in space ok)

sleepover saturday

uncharted territory

(word count 9.1k - it REALLY got away from me okay)

gif by @aceofwhump

Then you are a Mandalorian no more.

Din Djarin aches in a way he has never felt before, much more powerful than any injury he could ever sustain. His Creed, demolished. His son, gone. His life, upended. As he staggers out of the Covert, trying to think of where to go next, he cannot shake the feeling of lost that settles around his shoulders like a cloak.

Maybe coming to Glavis was a mistake; maybe he should have stayed back on Nevarro, kept taking jobs from Karga until he finally had enough credits to take the old man’s advice, get himself a camtono full of spice and disappear into the Twi’lek healing baths until he forgot the whole thing.

The truth of it? He knew he could never forget. There wasn’t enough spice in the galaxy to help him forget it all. It wasn’t possible. And the larger part was that Din didn’t want to forget.

His leg aches as he walks. The bacta Paz had sprayed him down with had helped some, but the ache runs deep, and the drills the Armourer had forced him to run with the Darksaber had only made matters worse. He should find a place to lie down, to hide for the night before he decides what he plans to do next, where he plans to go.

Where will he go?

You are a Mandalorian no more.

The echo of the words make his head split, and for a moment, he has half a mind to wrench the helmet off, to launch it off the ring, let space swallow the beskar whole. But he stops himself; it feels as though his armour is all he has left.

His armour, and the Darksaber. The right to the throne of Mandalore.

Maker, he can’t think straight. The ache only worsens, his limp more prominent, and it gets to the point where he can take no more. He falls onto the nearest crate, his injured leg stuck straight out in front of him. His body feels twice as heavy, his head even more so, and he tips it back against the wall to lighten the load. He’ll rest just a moment, he’ll just shut his eyes for one—

“Mando?”

Din pulls his blaster from his holster as his eyes shoot open. There’s the sound of shuffled steps, something metallic hitting the floor, a murmured dank farrik! He hits a button on his vambrace, turns off the thermal setting on his visor.

“Sweets?”

You look exactly the same as he remembers. It’s been ages, but he could never forget your face. He knows what’s underneath your clothes, too, and the memory speeds to the surface of his mind faster than a pod-racer.

+

Before he had an in with Peli on Tatooine, the Razor Crest routinely parked and tuned up in Hangar 3-5, he had you. You were well-known within the Guild, had more than a few contracts with different gangs and hunters in the galaxy. If something on a ship broke, you were the one to fix it, and you had enough heavily-armed thugs on your side to make anyone think twice about trying to mess with you.

Some called you the Mechanic, simple and descriptive. Others, those you let a little closer, knew you as Sweets, a moniker earned by your penchant for candies and treats. You’d let your favoured clients off easy if they were short a few credits, but had something sweet from the far reaches of the galaxy to offer in lieu of the missing cash.

Din knew he was one of your favoured clients, perhaps your favourite. Or, had been. You’d crowed endlessly about the Crest, desperate to get your hands on it any time he hauled it in for service, whether it actually needed it or not. Sometimes he genuinely needed something fixed, some times he’d found some candy or sweet in a far off corner of the galaxy that he’d brought back just for you.

Other times, he just wanted to see you.

You were sweet in other ways, too. He knew first-hand. And he knew he was the only client you let into your bed. He’d been drawn to you the first time you’d been introduced — a common contact between you and Din sent him your way when the Crest was in serious need of a tune-up, and you were the closest mechanic he could get to without doing more damage to the ship.

Your knowledge astounded him, to start. You were barely into a diagnostic and you knew exactly what needed to be fixed, what parts you had and didn’t, how many credits it was going to cost him. And you hadn’t even set foot on the ship yet. Your competency drove him wild, only spurred on when he brought you aboard the Crest to give the interior a once-over, eager to see if he’d kept everything original, or if you had any modifications to offer that he might be interested in. Din followed you around the ship silently, answering whatever questions you had, mostly just watching you work. It was intriguing beyond belief.

“That’s not much of a bed,” you’d commented, cocking your head to the side when you hit the button that opened the bunk. “When’s the last time you had a new mattress?”

He just shrugged.

“One thing you should know,” you said over your shoulder, descending the Crest’s ramp, heading back towards the entrance to your shop. “I don’t use droids.”

Din nearly fell over. “That’s not a problem.”

“Good,” you replied, tapping at your data pad, your brow scrunching. “It’ll take longer than your usual hangar; I do everything myself.”

“I’m happy to wait,” he said, dipping his helmet, thankful it was hiding the way he was raking his eyes over you. I don’t use droids. Had someone made you in a lab somewhere, on some backwater planet, just for him? “I know she’s in good hands.”

The grin you’d offered him was sweeter than anything he’d ever seen, and you shooed him out a moment later, muttering something about getting back to work.

When he returned three days later to retrieve his ship, he almost didn’t recognize it. You’d repainted most of the outside panels, replaced all the ones that were missing, and the engines were so shiny Din could see his helmet reflected in them. Inside the Crest was another story; you’d outfitted him with a carbonite cell system, top of the line and primed for use. That meant no more mouthy bounties, no more wasting durasteel cuffs and gags when he could just hit a button and have a quiet ride back to the Guild.

And in the bunk, a new mattress, complete with a pillow, and bolted on the wall, a mount for his helmet.

“You don’t sleep with that thing on, do you?”

“The carbonite system,” he nearly sputtered, rubbing a gloved hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t have the credits, I didn’t—”

You poked the toe of his boot with your own. “Call it a gift, Mando. Let’s just say I shouldn’t have had the thing hanging around to begin with.”

“Is that gonna cause me any problems?”

“Nope,” you replied, popping the p. “Wiped all the identification numbers from the system. No one will know where it came from. Except you.”

He stared at you a long moment. “Except me.”

He was sure to pay you in full, plus the candied flowers he’d found at one of the vendors in the markets. You’d smiled again at that, and while Din committed the sight to memory, he also promised himself that he wouldn’t let it be long before he saw your smile again.

And he kept that promise. The next time he landed the Crest in your hangar, it wasn’t because he needed a tune-up or new parts. He’d struck gold at a black market on Coruscant; his bounty had lead him into the belly of a sweet shop, and after the Gungan had been dealt with, Din did some hunting of his own. He took as many boxes as he could carry, trying to take one of each flavour, a few extra of the ones he’d seen on the shelf in your shop.

“What in Maker’s name are you doing here?” you’d called as soon as he landed, stepping out of the shop and into the hangar, your hands on your hips, cocked to one side. “You ruin my handiwork that fast?”

“Not exactly,” he’d replied, walking down the ramp, his arms laden with goodies. Your eyes had gone huge. “I come bearing gifts.”

“For me?” you cried, gasping as you took the boxes from him, tongue poking between your teeth. “Mandalorian, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.”

He’d never been so grateful for his helmet at that exact moment. He might have crumbled to dust if you’d seen how red his cheeks were. “I-I owed you,” he stuttered out, “for the carbonite.”

“You didn’t owe me anything,” you quipped, swaying from side to side on your feet, staring down at your treats. “I told you, it was a gift.” You gave him one of those smiles again, and Din felt his stomach twist at the glitter in your eyes. “Why don’t you stay a while? I’ll feed you and everything.”

You disappeared into the shop, and Din paused a moment before following.

He saw you disappear behind a dark curtain that had definitely seen better days, and Din followed your further to discover there was an apartment of sorts attached to the shop. Apartment was perhaps too kind a word; it was one large room, a kitchen to one side, a large futon spread in the middle. Trunks and boxes and crates stacked along the far wall, a few grease-stained jumpsuits littering the floor. You stumbled over your feet trying to pick them up, tossing the offending fabric into a nearby crate, before you turned back to him. “What are you hungry for?”

You served him first. Noodles with dark sauce and some kind of shredded meat you thought was bantha but weren’t quite sure. But, as you stated with a shrug, “it’s good, and it hasn’t killed me yet.” After you slid the bowl across the table to him, you turned back to the stove and stayed that way. After a moment, Din wasn’t sure what to do, but then your head turned slightly, your eyes trained directly to the left, not wandering towards him over your shoulder. “I won’t look. Swear.”

He lifted the helmet just enough to shovel the food into his mouth. You were right, the mystery meat was good, and the sauce you’d made to go with it was even better. He nearly inhaled the food, not wanting to keep you too long, and when the helmet slid back down, the mechanism hissing back into place, your head turned again, still not looking at him.

“You’re safe,” he said, sliding his empty bowl back across the table.

You turned fully, serving yourself, and he expected you to sit across from him, keeping a bit of distance between you, but instead, you rounded the table and plunked yourself down on the stool right beside him. You ate much slower than he had, and Din let his eyes graze over you. The streak of engine grease on your cheek, the scar that split your lower lip, the intricately messy way you wore your hair. A silver chain sat around your throat, strung with a tiny silver ring. It disappeared down the front of your shirt most of the time, but right then it sat awkwardly, the chain caught on your collar, the ring sitting in the hollow of your throat. He resisted the urge to reach out and fix it.

The jumpsuit you wore was nearly identical to the ones you’d hurriedly swiped off the floor. Torn on one knee, zipper unfurling beneath your chest, a symbol he didn’t recognize patched onto your thigh. You’d tied the sleeves around your waist like a belt, a dirty rag tucked in at your hip. The Mechanic, herself. Sweets.

He thought you were beautiful. He had a feeling you’d look beautiful in anything.

Or nothing.

Din was distracted by your thumb at your lips, swiping a drop of sauce from your chin and sucking your finger into your mouth. His flight-suit was tight beneath his beskar to begin with, and you weren’t helping matters. “So,” you said simply, reaching for your food again. “Tell me a story, Mando. A good one. Best bounty you ever caught.”

The conversation filtered between you two easily. You were a good listener, easy to talk to, and Din felt like he couldn’t stop talking to you, telling you about his first kill, his first bounty. His first ship, before the Crest. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you about the before, before the Guild, before he was just the Mandalorian, when he was just Din Djarin. A foundling. Part of him wondered what you think, what your reaction might be to his past, but a larger part forced his mouth shut.

At some point, he turned himself towards you on his stool, one arm braced on the table, the other resting on his thigh. After you finished your food, you leaned heavily on the table, your head pushed into your palm, legs crossed at your ankles, swinging slowly, the toe of your boot tapping his shin every once in a while.

He could see you were tired, the way you started covering your yawns and rubbing at your eyes. “I should go,” he said, starting to get to his feet. “You’re tired, and I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Your hand flashed out quick — not quick enough to startle him, though — and wrapped around his wrist. You’d managed to wedge your fingers right into the space where his glove met his vambrace, and he felt you against his pulse, against his bare skin. “You don’t have to leave, Mando.”

Din. He wanted to tell you. My name is Din.

Slowly, his own hand reached out, hovering in the air, shaking more than a vibroblade. He saw your eyes trace its path, watching until it lowered, dropped until the flat of his palm met the curve of your thigh. His gloved fingers wrapped around the meat of your leg, his thumb pressing towards the inside. 

He heard you gasp. 

He moved forward an inch, and his hand moved higher, thumb riding the seam of your jumpsuit. You hummed, fingered squeezing around his wrist, and Din moved closer, until he had one leg between yours. He let his hand wander higher, listening carefully to the changes in your breathing, the hitch in your throat. The heat between your legs was almost stifling, and something feral in the back of his brain screamed for more.

Whatever snapped in him, it seemed to break in you at exactly the same time. You both shot to your feet together, and Din’s hands moved to your waist, to where your sleeves were knotted at your waist. Yours roamed his chest plate, fingers tapping along beskar until you hooked them in his cloak. He halted his own hands, ready to help you remove the fabric, but you handled it just fine on your own, finding the hidden snaps with ease.

His blood turned to flame when he felt your fingers along his throat, seeking his pulse in another spot. “You should stay,” you breathed out, your voice barely above a murmur. “Please, Mando, I want you to stay.”

He forced himself to nod, his mind now preoccupied with ripping his gloves from his hands. He needed to feel you, no barriers in between.

He needed to see you, something in him screamed, no barriers in between.

He silenced that voice before it could spur him further. Busied himself with diving his hand beneath the waist of the jumpsuit, the broken zipper catching on his wrist. You were even hotter beneath, and he sucked down a breath when he found you wet, slick coating his fingers.

Your body leaned into him, chasing his touches, and he hooked his other hand around your thigh, lifting you up and backwards onto the table. He could feel you watching, your eyes moving from his helmet down his front, to where his hand was jammed beneath the jumpsuit. He crooked one finger, testing, pressing it into you, and grinned beneath his helmet when you moaned.

Din hooked his arm under your waist, lifting you just enough that he could maneuver the jumpsuit over your hips, down your legs. His cock jolted between his legs at the sight of you bare, leaned back on the table, your chest heaving. Even though the visor, he could see how slick you were, the evidence shining on the insides of your thighs.

He wanted to taste you.

He pushed the thought away again. Another time, when he wasn’t smearing the inside of his flight-suit with precum, when you weren’t keening into his touch as he dragged his fingers against the sensitive skin between your legs, when he could turn the lights off and shed his armour, bare himself to you the same way.

You moaned again when his fingers found your clit, drawing a sloppy circle that had your muscles tensing against his hand, knees closing against his hips. “F-fuck, Mando,” you ground out, tipping your head back on your shoulders. “You’re good with those hands.” Another stuttered breath as he twisted his wrist, curling two fingers just inside your entrance, thumb stretching up to swipe over your clit. “Really good.”

He was grinning beneath the helmet again, eyes glued to your face as he pressed further, fingers threading deeper into you. He could feel everything, the twitch of your thighs, the clench of your cunt. You reached out with one hand, using the other to balance yourself, and closed it around his elbow, your fingers digging into the thick fabric so hard he was shocked your nails didn’t bite right through.

“How do you like it, Sweets?” he asked, leaning forward until he was nearly hovering over you. Your hand moved from his elbow to chest, fingers hooked in his armour. “Tell me what you need.”

Your hand moved again, this time moving straight down his front, past his waist, right between his legs. His cock throbbed as you palmed him, a cat-like grin on your lips as you tilted your head level with the visor. You leaned up slightly, pressed your lips to the beskar edge that mirrored his jaw. Another squeeze, and the slow pace of his fingers faltered, his head nearly smacking into yours. “I need this.”

Din couldn’t hold back anymore. Something in the way you stared up at him, eyes tracing over the helmet, told him you didn’t want him to.

“I like it rough.”

It all happened in one fluid motion. He pulled you closer, right off the edge of the table, and you spun in his grip, leaning forward over the table, planting your hands flat. The jumpsuit slid further towards your ankles and you arched your back, your ass grinding against his hardness, and Din groaned audibly, tilting his head towards the ceiling. Your legs spread as much as the jumpsuit would allow, and Din worked his own zipper down, freeing himself from the flight-suit. You made the most delicious noise as the tip of his cock smacked against your ass, the tip dripping with precum.

Your head turned as he took himself in hand, tapping your ass with his cock again. “Maker,” you breathed out, your eyes widening. “I knew you’d be big.”

Beneath the helmet, Din turned crimson.

He planted his other hand between your shoulders, tipping you forward. You went willingly, eyes rolling back as he pushed his hips against your ass. He could see how wet you were as you bent, slick still dripping down your thighs.

There was nothing stopping him from dropping to his knees right then and there, lifting the helmet just enough to drag his tongue through your cunt. The thought alone made his cock pulse.

But then your hand reached back, twisting in the fabric covering his hip, and he couldn’t wait any longer. He bent his knees slightly, notching himself at your entrance, and pushed inside.

The noise you let out was nearly enough to make him cum right then and there. He knew he wasn’t gonna last, and judging by the sounds you continued to make and the way you were bearing down on him, hands clenched into fists on the tabletop, he didn’t think you were either. He set a fast pace, the space filling with the slick sound of him driving in and out of you, your moans echoing each move. Din’s gaze dropped, trained on the sight of his cock disappearing to you. Your hand flapped at his hip, scrabbling for purchase, and he wrapped his fingers around your forearm, groaning when you did the same.

He was right; you didn’t last long, and neither did he. Your entire body clenched as you came, one hand slamming against the table, nails digging deep into his wrist. It spurred his own orgasm, that coil at the base of his spine snapping, and he pulled out, cumming hard across the curve of your ass.

Silence settled over the both of you as you caught your breath. Din couldn’t help himself, rubbing his bare fingers over the expanse of your back, tracing over your spine. You arched a bit into his touch, making a satisfied noise before you lifted yourself off the table. You turned to him, leaned up to press a hot kiss to his bare throat. It made him shiver.

“Think we could do that again?” you murmured, lifting a finger and dragging it along the edge of his helmet. “Maybe you take all the metal off.”

Din cleared his throat, trying to ignore the way his cock twitched, already wanting a second round. “Helmet stays on.”

You stared at him a long moment, smile on your lips. “Helmet stays on.”

+

He kept close to you after that night. He rarely took bounties that took him to further reaches of the galaxy, loathe to admit that he was always within a few parsecs of your hangar. He brought you a long-distance commlink so he could tell you when he was coming back, so you could contact him if you ever needed him. He didn’t worry about you, per se; you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, and he knew for a fact you knew how to shoot the blaster you kept holstered on your thigh when he wasn’t around.

But then the comm went quiet. He called, you didn’t answer. A lead weight formed in his stomach, and he pushed the Crest’s engines are fast as they’d go. Carefully, though — he wouldn’t dare ruin any of your handiwork.

When he landed in the hangar, the lights were all off. It didn’t help his worry, and it only grew worse as he sprinted off the Crest, heading straight for the shop door.

It was locked, but the lock was no match for his vibroblade and a bit of brute force. Inside, the space was empty. no trace of you left inside. There was no sign of a struggle, no blood smeared on the floor or the wall, but it didn’t ease his mind any. What if someone had come for you, spirited you away in the dead of night to some backwater planet? Dank farrik, what if someone had put out a bounty on you? His mind reeled, raced, chewed him up and spit him out.

He never meant to get so attached to you.

Din switched the settings on his visor, finally determining that all the footprints he could make out on the floor were your own. Then he saw it, sitting on the edge of one of the shelves in the kitchen. The commlink, perched precariously, just enough out of sight that no one else would think twice, but not Din.

He thumbed through the screen, saw the icon flashing with a recorded message. Your face lit up the screen instantly, and he stifled the way his stomach clenched. You looked…scared. Not hurt, not injured, but scared.

“Someone sold me out,” you said, your voice distorted and warped. “I can’t give you details. I can’t really tell you anything. Just know I’m going somewhere safe, and I’ll miss you, Mandalorian. Take care of yourself.”

Your eye were shiny as you reached out to cut the recording, and Din’s heart sank into his toes.

He put the commlink in his pocket, and returned to his ship.

He’d watched the message so many times the words were engraved into his brain. The change in your voice, the way you’d blinked harder the more you spoke. The way you paused in the middle, glanced over your shoulder with a shock of fear in your eyes.

And now here you are, standing in front of him, a pile of metal spilling out of a crate tucked beneath your arm, that same streak of fear in those big eyes. Eyes that have haunted him all these years. You nearly drop the crate as you crouch, your gaze zeroing in on the wound on his leg. “Maker, Mando, what the hell did you do?”

“Long story,” he groans out, wincing as you adjust his leg slightly, leaning to the side so you can get a better look. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” you reply, getting back to your feet, retrieving your crate of parts. “C’mon, let me clean you up. You look like hell.”

Din goes willingly, not sure what else to do, his mind racing from the combination of the Covert and you appearing out of nowhere. He lets you pull him slowly to his feet, tuck yourself under his arm. “Sweets,” he starts to protest, but you drag his arm around your shoulders.

“Shush,” you whisper, glancing around as you start to lead him in the opposite direction he’d been going. “Lean your weight on me.” He does as you say, nearly crumbling with relief. “There you go.”

The ache only worsens as you go, Din resisting the urge to lean his head against yours. When you finally turn him towards the door, he thinks he may topple over completely, but you’re quicker, producing a remote from your pocket. The door slides open, revealing the inside of a hangar, and you all but carry him through, discarding the crate of parts the moment you’re through, hitting the button again once you’re inside. The door slides shut, and Din lifts his head enough to look around. It looks nearly identical to your old hangar.

Then he hears a curious little beep, and looks down to see a tiny droid scurrying towards you. A BD-1 unit; he recognizes it from Peli’s, though yours is a little more rusty around the edges, the cleaner bits of metal painted grey and yellow. “Not now, Shrimp,” you grit, waving at the droid. It beeps loudly back at you, like an arguing child, and Din stifles his laugh.

“I thought you didn’t use droids,” he mumbles.

“He came with the hangar,” you reply, moving him across the hangar. Shrimp follows a few more steps before darting off, disappearing into a pile of crates. “Couldn’t bring myself to scrap him. Besides, not like he’s much help; tiny thing can’t even lift a socket wrench.”

He laughs out loud this time, and when you pull him into the shop, he laughs again, despite himself.

There’s a shelf of sweets above the workbench.

There’s no curtain between the shop and the apartment, instead another sliding door, another remote. Din lets out a low hum when he sees the apartment beyond. More than one room, furnished with actual furniture. It’s…nice. It’s really nice.

You deposit him on the couch, propping his leg up on the table in front of it. “Wait here,” you mumble, pointing a finger at him before disappearing into another room. 

He doesn’t move, but hooks his fingers into the edge of his helmet and yanks it off, depositing it on the couch beside him. He sucks down a breath of unfiltered air.

You gasp as you walk back into the room, nearly dropping the silver case in your hand. “Mando, you—”

“Din,” he says instantly, reaching down, tugging his gloves off, tossing them onto the helmet. “My name is Din Djarin.”

“Din,” you repeat, slowly, like you’re tasting his name on your tongue. The corner of your mouth quirks. “Din…Djarin.”

He just nods. You approach him carefully, like you’re walking towards an injured animal instead of a man, the silver case clutched against your chest.

“Your helmet,” you start, gesturing vaguely. A memory sparks. He told you before — not in so many words — about his Creed, his upbringing. You’d asked, and he’d answered. It wasn’t information he gave willingly. The second time he had you, when you were sprawled out completely naked on that old futon, writhing and moaning beneath him, when he’d shed almost all his beskar, felt the warmth of your body pressed up against all of him. Afterward, when you’d both been sated for the time being, you’d peered up at him from your place on his chest. “Do you ever take it off?” you asked, your voice laced with sleep.

And he’d answered.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says now, eyes darting towards the curve of silver. “I’m not a Mandalorian anymore.”

“What?” you ask, your brow furrowing. He wants to reach out, let his thumb ride the space between your eyebrows, feel it smooth over as he kisses the spot. “What does that mean?”

“It means…” He trails off. Loaded question. What does it mean? Truly? “My name is Din Djarin.”

There’s still confusion etched into your features, but you don’t question him further. Your brow doesn’t loosen, and you perch on the table.

“What’s in the case?” he asks, jutting his chin towards the silver case still in your hands.

You look at him for a long moment, eyes sweeping over his face, over his features. Like you’re committing him to memory. He’s doing the same, almost scrutinizing your face, trying to remember what it looks like without the filter of his visor, what you truly look like, with no barriers in between.

He could taste you easily now.

The thought catches him off guard, the throb between his legs a welcome change to the pulsing of the wound on his thigh. The bacta the Covert had given him has worn off almost completely, and the pain is climbing. 

“B-bacta shot,” you stutter out, shaking your head slightly as you flipped open the case. Your eyes moved to the wound on his leg, peering at the plates of beskar, the flight-suit, the discarded helmet on the couch. “That needs to be cleaned.”

Din just nods.

“Think you can walk to the bedroom?” you ask, shoving the silver case into the chest pocket of your jumpsuit. He recognizes it — the tear in the knee, the patch on your thigh. You fixed the zipper. “It’ll be easier.”

It’s slow-going, getting him back to his feet, shuffling carefully to the bedroom. You ask him if he wants to bring the helmet; he just shakes his head.

What does that mean?

Your bed is unmade, but Din barely notices. The scent of you is amplified in here, and he’s sucking down breaths like he’s been deprived of oxygen. You help him lower to the edge of the bed, and he starts on the armour. You sink to your knees in front of him, setting the bacta shot on the mattress beside him. He removes a pauldron with shaking fingers, and you’re right there to take it from him, your movements sure, setting the metal carefully onto the floor, waiting for the next piece.

“You disappeared,” he says, after more pieces of beskar have been removed, when you’ve moved onto his boots, setting them both carefully at your side.

Your brow had just smoothed out, and it pinches again. “I had to. I left you a message.”

Din pulls the zipper on his flight-suit, reaches into the pocket sewn into the lining, and produces the commlink. “I know.”

Your lips part as you look at the piece of metal, dwarfed by his hand. “You found it.”

“I did.”

Bottom lip caught between your teeth, you look back up at him through your lashes. “It wasn’t safe.”

“You’re safe now,” he says, and you reach for the bacta shot. “Tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” you reply, your voice bordering on stern. “Somebody sold me out.”

“I knew that much,” Din mumbles, and you shoot him a glare.

You sigh. “Let’s just say, there were some parts in the hangar that shouldn’t have been there, someone wasn’t happy with some work I did, and then next thing I knew, there were Imps on my tail. So I disappeared.”

“You could have told me where you were going.”

You shake your head. “They were listening. Tracking every message I sent out. I couldn’t let you get roped into it too.”

“You could have gone to the Guild,” he says. He’s too distracted to notice you pull the syringe out of the case. He doesn’t see the needle until you’re pushing it into his muscle above the wound. He grits his teeth audibly, hands curling hard around the edge of the mattress. “Dank farrik.”

“Sorry.”

“I would have come for you,” he says, breath hitching in his throat as you push the plunger down. It feels like his body has been flooded with ice water, his teeth chattering for a moment before the cold turns to a woozy sort of warmth that spreads through his chest like Corellian fire whiskey. He blinks hard, slow, one eye than the other.

“Can you stand?” He nods. Or thinks he does. “The bacta will help, but I need to put a bandage on that wound, at least.” More nodding. He’s vaguely aware of you draping his arms around your neck, your arms sliding around his waist to haul him up. He plants his feet beneath him, forces his weight over his ankles. His movements are slow, languid, like he’s moving through water. You manoeuvre one arm out of his flight-suit, pushing the fabric down his shoulders, until it settles around his hips. The metallic sound of the zipper seems to echo through his brain, and he knows you’re touching his waist, moving the fabric slowly over his injured thigh. But it doesn’t hurt.

All he can feel is you.

You sit him down again, work on pulling the suit off completely. Your hands are warm, soft, gentle against his bare legs, and he nearly buries his nose in the crown of your head when you bend down. Once the flight-suit has been removed, leaving him in his boxers and undershirt, you disappear again, and Din’s not sure if it’s thirty seconds or thirty minutes.

Something cold presses against his thigh, and he flinches. “Does it hurt?” you ask instantly, and your voice is clear, then muffled, then clear again. “It shouldn’t.”

“Nuh-uh,” he slurs out. He hears you laugh, and the sound is like tinkling bells. He wants to hear it again. “Sweets.”

“Yes, Din?” Clear, muffled. His name is a song on your lips.

“You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.”

“Mesh’la,” he mumbles, and then his eyes fall shut, his body slumps back, and he thinks you laugh again. He’s not quite sure; sleep is too busy yanking him under.

+

Din wakes to the sound of running water.

He’s disoriented, confused, not sure where he is until he pushes up on his elbows, looks around, drinks in the sight of your bedroom. The memory floods back; the Covert, then the hangar, taking the helmet off, the bacta shot that knocked him out.

But more importantly: you.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes. How long was he out? He can’t be sure; there’s a window on the far side of the room, but time on Glavis is different, artificial nighttime and starlight instead of sun. His armour has been moved from the floor, neatly piled on a dresser against the wall, his boots on the floor underneath. His flight-suit is spread out on a worktable in the middle of the room, and he can see from his spot that you’ve tried to mend it, patching the spot the Darksaber had cut open with a square of fabric. It’s looks to be the same kind of material, but the colour is darker. Beneath the sheets, his leg is wrapped in cotton bandages, and there’s no sign of blood seeping to the surface.

His head turns in the direction of the noise of the water, and he pauses, waits for some kind of pain to prick through his body, but it never comes. He feels…good. Well-rested. His eyes follow the sound, and then he sees it.

The door to your bathroom is wide open, and from his spot on your bed, he can see directly into the shower. You’re inside, steam pouring over the top of the glass wall, and Din’s whole body jerks. He never forgot what you looked like naked, and it’s been a long time, but somehow it still feels like the first time. He can feel the blood rushing south, and his hands clench in the bedsheets.

He just stares, watching the water move over you, cascading down your spine, rolling in rivulets over your curves, following the lines of your body. He wants to follow them too, wants to read you like a map only he knows the key to.

Dank farrik, he’s missed you. He hadn’t realized how much.

The water shuts off, and he sees you reach for a towel, wiping your face first. He sinks back down on the bed, wondering if he should feign sleep, feeling like a kid caught doing something he’s not supposed to. But before he can— “You’re awake,” he hears you call, and looks back just as you wrap the towel around your middle. “I thought you’d be out for the night.”

Din coughs, shifting the blankets, trying to hide the tent that’s formed in his boxers. “You don’t close the door?” He doesn’t know what else to say.

You laugh. “I live alone,” you say, stepping out of the bathroom, walking towards the dresser his armour sits upon. “Force of habit.”

He clears his throat. Loudly. Pauses. “…it’s a nice view.”

Your tongue peeks between your lips as you walk over to him, still in just the towel. Your hair is still dripping, water droplets dotting your shoulders. You sink slowly onto the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“G-good,” he spits out, adjusting himself, making more room for you. “Really good.”

The corner of your mouth quirks. “I’m glad. You scared me, Man—” You catch yourself. “Din.”

A drop of water splashes down from your hair, starts a path down your upper arm, and Din reaches out, catching it on his finger. You watch his hand, lips softly parted, and he continues the path, drawing his hand up and down your skin, the backs of his knuckles against your bicep.

“I wondered where you were, all these years,” you whisper. There’s longing in your voice, he notices; the same feeling sits like a weight on his chest. “I never stopped wondering.”

“I’ll tell you sometime,” he whispers back. There’s something forming in the air between you, thick like the steam that still foams from the open bathroom. Din can almost taste it, and the thought he’d had in your living room resurfaces, making him twitch beneath the sheets. He could taste you so easily now. “It’s a long story.”

The corner of your mouth quirks. “I got nothing but time.”

So does he, he realizes. He’s without a ship, without his son, without anything anchoring him to one planet or another, to any sort of path. He’d been wandering already, trying to find the Covert, and now he is unmoored once more, yet somehow managed to find his way back to your hangar.

To your bed.

His hand stops chasing water droplets, and he sees your teeth sink into your lower lip. He lowers his palm until it rests on your bare thigh, and he can feel how your skin is still hot from the shower. “I never kissed you,” he rasps. “Before.”

Your head shakes slowly, and you turn towards him more fully. The towel is loose around your chest, your hand holding it in place, and he reaches for it, slowly uncurling your fingers from the fabric, until your grip falls slack, and the towel goes with it. “You should fix that,” you murmur.

“I’m out of practice.”

Your lips twitch again. “How bad?”

“Few decades,” he says softly. “Since before I swore the Creed.”

“You were a child.”

“It was a childish kiss.” He pauses, moves his hand again, brushes dripping locks of hair from your face. “I don’t want to kiss you like that.”

“Just…” Din leans in slightly, tilts his head to the side. “Do what feels natural.” You mirror his movement, and his eyes are glued to your mouth, to the way your lips stay parted even when you’re done speaking, the way your collar lifts with shuddered breaths. He sees your hands move the towel out of the corner of his eye, pulling the fabric away from your body completely until you’re bared to him, head to toe.

You’re just as beautiful as he remembers. If not more.

The tip of his nose drags along the slope of yours, and his hand slides from your thigh to your hip. “I need you closer, Sweets,” he murmurs, and you nod against him, your foreheads tapping together. There’s a bit of shuffling, the blankets moved back, his tented boxers exposed but barely acknowledged as you climb into his lap. He revels in the way you look above him, your knees pressed either side of his hips. You’re hesitant to lower your weight onto his leg, and he guides you slow, giving you a quiet it’s okay as you settle onto him.

He doesn’t feel any pain; he just feels you.

Once you’re comfortable, your hands clutching at his shoulders, he adjusts his grip on you, palms skimming up your spine, mapping out your ribs and the curve of your ass. You make a quiet noise when he squeezes one cheek, the movement propelling you forward, making your hips roll into his, your core pushed against his hard cock. It makes him hiss with pleasure, and he slides one hand up to your hair, knotting his fingers in it and dragging your mouth down to his.

It’s not artful; he’s sure it doesn’t look pretty from the outside. There’s a lot of teeth and tongue, the fumble of hands as he tries to get you even closer. He’s sure you’ve been kissed better than this, and it makes his cheeks heat, makes him pull away, tucking his chin towards his chest. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Hey,” you say softly, your hands moving to cup his cheeks, tilting his face back up towards you. “It’s okay. Just…follow my lead?” You say it like a question, your thumbs swiping over his face, through the smatter of facial hair along his jaw. “I got you.”

Din nods, lets his lips part as you cock your head to the side, leaning in slow. You kiss his top lip and then his bottom one, giving him just enough teeth that he wants more, wants it harder. He grips your hips as you move, but your kiss stays tender, slow, your tongue a wet heat against his own. He’d dreamed of this, of kissing you, and this one — albeit the second attempt — is everything he ever imagined.

Finally, your mouth grows more insistent. He’s hard as steel between his legs, and he can feel how hot you are, your wetness spreading across his boxers with every roll of your hips. Your mouth is sweet, almost sugary, and he finds himself chuckling against your lips, still trying to get you closer. Your stomach presses to his as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him harder, your tongue licking into his mouth.

“Sweets,” he grinds out when you start pulling at his undershirt, insistent to get it over his head. He lets you, and when you lower your head again, your mouth moves to his throat instead, and it makes him moan. “Mesh’la, wait, please, I need—”

You pull back instantly, your eyes bright with worry. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I want…” His eyes drop, tracing a path down your body, his throat growing dry when they land on the apex of your thighs, the glistening wetness he knows he’s caused. He lets one hand follow the path his eyes made, rubs his thumb over your clit. Your whole body shivers. “I want to taste you.”

Your eyes go big, pupils blown with lust, and Din uses your momentary shock to his advantage. He’s stronger than you, perks of the bounty hunting lifestyle, and he flips you easily with one arm around your waist, his other hand hitching your thigh over his hip. You squeak as your head hits the pillows, clinging to him until you’re laid out beneath him.

It’s his turn to kiss his way down your throat, and he does, laving his tongue against your pulse as he makes his way down your body. He pauses at your chest, moves to the side to close his lips around your nipple. It makes your back arch, a high-pitched noise falling from your mouth, and he grins against you, giving you just the edge of his teeth before he’s wandering across your chest to give the other the same attention.

You’re a writhing mess by the time he’s settled between your thighs. He can’t keep his eyes still, raking over every inch of you, trying to remember every part. He can see the muscles in your legs jump as he traces his fingers over them, the more sensitive parts of your skin making you keen.

With your legs spread, he can see everything, and his mouth waters at the sight of your wet cunt, walls fluttering around nothing as he teases you with his fingers, collecting your wetness on the tips before drawing them to his mouth.

He moans at the taste. Of course, you’re sweet. Deliciously so.

“Din,” you groan out, propping yourself up on your elbows. He can feel you watching, and his gaze flicks up to yours as he drops his jaw, lowers his mouth to you. Your eyes roll back for a moment, one hand moving to knot in his hair, and Din moans into you. His tongue explodes with the taste of you, sending shocks down his spine, making his hips rolls into the mattress, seeking relief.

Just do what feels natural, your words echo in his head. So he does. He licks into you, wide stripes with the flat of his tongue, smaller kitten licks to your clit. He can’t get enough of your taste, hooking his hands around your thighs, pulling himself deeper into you. And you guide him some, your hand in his hair an anchor of sorts, tugging slightly to get him right where you need him, a gasped oh fuck, right there! reaching his ears.

It’s not before long that you’re smacking at his shoulder, muffled moans on your lips with your teeth sunk into your lower one. He detaches from you, gets one more good look and lick in before he’s following your grip, kissing every inch of you he can reach as he makes his way back up your body.

“I need you inside me,” you slur, your hands reaching down, pushing at his boxers. His cock springs up against his stomach and he groans, the sound growing louder when you wrap your fingers around him. “Please, Din, I want to cum on your cock.”

It’s a miracle he doesn’t cum right then and there, hearing your words turn filthy. And filthier still as he hauls himself over you, plants one elbow beside your head, looks between you, reaches down to line himself up and—

Freezes.

He can feel your eyes on his face, features pinched with anticipation. Your hands have found homes along his ribs, fingers tapping out rhythmless patterns. Hips lifting, you must see something in his expression, because you move a hand to his chin, lifting his eyes to yours again. “Din,” you say, and a shiver shoots down his spine again at the way his name sounds on your lips. “It’s okay. We can stop, if you need to.”

“No!” he nearly shouts, and feels himself flush, lowering himself slightly, careful not to drop all his weight on you. “No, that’s not what I…I don’t…”

“Don’t what?” you murmur. Your voice is quiet, understanding. You give a soft laugh. “I know you’re not a virgin, but if you don’t want to, it’s okay, I won’t say any—”

“It’s not that,” he cuts you off, petting his hand over your still-damp hair. “I want to. I want you. It’s just that…” He chews at his lip. “No one’s ever seen my face, while we…when I…”

Realization slides through your features. “Oh.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t have to look,” you say quickly, skimming your knuckles along his cheek. “I can turn over, if you like, if that’s easier than—”

“No,” he says, not a shout this time, but firmer. “I want you to see, Sweets.” He drops his chin, emboldened by your softness, your understanding. He kisses you soundly. “I want to kiss you while you cum.” His words pull a silky noise from your throat.

He breaks the kiss as he takes himself in hand, pushes into your dripping cunt. You’re hot, clenching down on him instantly, arms draped around his neck as he lowers himself further, latches his lips to yours. He hitches one of your legs high on his hip, drives into you deep. He had you close on his tongue already, and he rolls his hips hard, catching something deep inside that makes your entire body seize.

“Yes, Din, please, oh gods, please, please, please,” you’re babbling against his lips, one hand pressed flat between his shoulders, the other knotted in the back of his hair. “Yes!”

Just as he said, he kisses you while you cum. He feels it pulse through your body, your limbs taut and then lax, still holding him close. Your hips chase his, cunt clenching tight as a vice, and Din’s not far behind you, pleasure lighting a fuse down his spine.

You pull your lips from his just as he starts to spill in you. Your hand moves to grip his chin, and you force his gaze to yours. He gasps and your mouth mirrors his, lips parted in a soft o, turning to a grin as he grinds into you, painting your insides as deep as he can go. It feels like an implosion, his bones rattled in his body, but then set on the softest bed of silk as he collapses into your chest. You hold him close, petting one hand through his hair, breathing deep and slow until his own evens out, matches yours, until your heartbeat syncs with his.

“Mesh’la?” he calls after a moment, cheek still pressed to your sternum.

“Yes, Din?” you reply, your voice scratchy as your nails start to drag along his scalp. His eyes are heavy.

“I missed you.”

He can hear the smile in your voice. “I missed you too.”

+

Din wakes alone in your bed again.

He thinks it’s the next morning — the rest of what he assume to be evening was spent in your bed, both of you naked and wrapped in each other. Again and again and again, he pulled pleasure from your body, let you pull it from his, found your bliss together. By the time you were both too tired to move, sprawled on the mattress, your head on his shoulder, you’d whispered, “You’re a good kisser, Din Djarin.” And then you were asleep, Din not too far behind.

He dresses quickly, boxers pulled back on, undershirt in his hand as he pads out of the room. He finds you standing in the kitchen, a steaming cup of caf in your hands. The droid — Shrimp, he dimly recalls — is perched on the table, beeping out a message to you. You’re nodding along, blowing the steam off the top of your caf, and your eyes flick to him as he steps into the kitchen.

“You know Peli Motto?”

Din’s brow crinkles with confusion. “You know Peli?”

You scoff. “That woman taught me everything I know.”

“You’re joking.”

“Swear on my hangar.”

Din just laughs, walking around the table. He slides an arm around your waist once he’s close enough, leans into kiss the side of your head. You lean into him. “Why are we talking about Peli?”

“She sent me a message,” you say, offering him your caf. He takes a sip, only feeling more confused. “Asking if I had any spare ships laying around my hangar. A replacement for her Mandalorian friend.”

Din balks. He hasn’t told you about the Crest. “Sweets…”

You step away from him, pressing a hand to his chest as your eyes go wide with realization. “Din Djarin, what did you do to that ship?”

“I didn’t—”

“Din.”

“It was Imps,” he says, trying to reach for your hip. “It wasn’t—”

“Where is the Razor Crest?”

He sighs heavily, and reaches out to take the cup of caf from you again. “Now it’s nothing but a scorch mark on the planet Tython. It was the Imps. They took my son.” The words are out before he can stop them.

Your eyes go so wide he’s worried they might pop out of your skull. “Your son?”

“It’s a long story.”

You pluck the caf out of his hands, walk around the table, pull out a chair and sink into it. “I got nothing but time.”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Girl Dad! Javier Peña

Girl Dad!Javi who was once terrified to be a dad to daughters, wondering how in the world he could ever be the right person to raise and protect his sweet girls from the dangers of the world he knew all too well

Girl Dad!Javi who hopes that his girls grow up to be just like you- tough, strong and independent

Girl Dad!Javi who loves spoiling his daughters, and will not stop buying them cute outfits and accessories (especially when they're younger) because of how adorable they'll look in them

Girl Dad!Javi who will happily play anything his daughters ask him to- Barbies, princesses, tea parties, unicorns? You name it, he'll do it. He'll even dress for the part, too, just to make his girls giggle when he puts on a tutu and sparkly tiara

Girl Dad!Javi who loves his girl gang so much, he's always asking if you want to have another baby and give your daughters another sister to play with

Girl Dad!Javi who always lets everyone know how much he loves his girls. His friends and co-workers always used to ask him if he wishes he had a son, or if he gets sick of dealing with his daughters, but they learned to stop asking that real fast after Javi gave them an ear full about how much he loved everything about being a girl dad and what a stupid question that was

Girl Dad!Javi who keeps every single piece of artwork his daughters have ever given him. He's got a file folder in his desk overflowing with scribbles of puppies, rainbows, and god knows how much glitter, but he can't bring himself to get rid of anything

Girl Dad!Javi who constantly sings Disney Princess songs to himself, because after the 74th time of watching The Little Mermaid this week, how could they not be

Girl Dad!Javi who learns how to braid so he can help do his daughter's hair before school in the morning. He'll admit, it's not perfect, and he hates those little clear elastics, but he loves getting to spend a little extra one on one time with his girls. He even practices on you when the two of you are hanging out in bed before you go to sleep

Girl Dad!Javi who loves taking his girls to Chucho's ranch to do chores around the farm, teaching them all the in's and out's of how to take care for the animals, use tools, problem solve and work hard. He's also not above bribing them with extra pony rides as incentive to work a little longer

Girl Dad!Javi who shows up to every single practice, game, recital, and school event the girls are apart of, because there is nothing more important to him than making sure his girls know he'll always be there for them.

Girl Dad!Javi who has to remember to not get too upset when his girls give him sass, knowing damn well they inherited all of their stubbornness and strong will from him

Girl Dad!Javi who has absolutely zero tolerance for any misogynistic bullshit he encounters, trying to do what he can to make the world a better place for his daughters to grow up in

Girl Dad!Javi who teaches everything he would have taught to his son to his girls- how to change a tire, mow the lawn, fix things around the house, toss a football, throw a punch, the list goes on and on. He never wants his girls to feel like they need to rely on anyone else to get things done

Girl Dad!Javi who desperately tries to keep up to date on all the things his girls are into, even if it means listening to one too many boy bands on their trips to and from soccer practice (He'll never admit how much he secretly loves One Direction). Not because he necessarily needs his daughters to think he's cool, but because what's important to them is important to him

Girl Dad!Javi who always encourages his daughters to stand up for themselves. Even if they may end up getting in trouble for something questionable, Javi still can't help be proud of the little badasses his girls are

Girl Dad!Javi who tries to act all cool and tough the first time his oldest daughter goes on a date, but has to keep from crying once she leaves, wondering how his little girl has grown up so fast

Girl Dad!Javi who wouldn't trade being a girl dad for anything else in the world, and is so proud of the amazing daughters he's raised with you 🥹

A/N: I will personally fight anyone who doesn't think that Javi is the king of girl dads. You know that man is SUCH a softie and would love his daughters with his whole heart. I will not be taking further questions at this time. Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Long live Girl Dad Javi 🫡

[satoruxx]

PARACOSM OF THE GODS. (THE CANON AU)

✧ SUMMARY : a collection of oneshots about your life as a part of the 2006 gang. this series follows the canon path of jjk, except with a whole lot more angsty romance involved. while these are all standalone installments, they are semi connected and often refer to each other. additionally, these fics almost always involve satoru and suguru having feelings for reader, and vice versa—but they're all their canon emotionally reserved selves.

✧ INCLUDES : gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader, canon au, angst, fluff, best friends being in love but cannot express it, timeskips, canon typical violence, death, longing, mutual pining, bittersweet, emotionally stunted teenagers, unresolved feelings, banter, literally just very canon !!

INSTALLMENTS :: the steps that led us down this road.

i. PARACOSM OF THE GODS :: YOU THINK YOU WILL ALWAYS FIND COMFORT IN THE SHADOWS OF THE STRONGEST.

the orginal fic. focuses on how your relationship with satoru and suguru changes throughout the years, and how the three of you end up walking different paths. goes through many canon events of jjk and how you deal with each one of them.

ii. SAUDADE :: YOU ARE MORE BITTER THAN SWEET.

in the span of a few years, you've realized that you have changed how you celebrate valentine's day. somehow, the blame always falls on the two of them.

iii. DEAD RECKONING :: MORE TROUBLED THAN I COULD'VE EXPECTED.

(coming soon...!)

EXTRAS :: on another page.

i. ANGEL ON MY SHOULDER :: TILL DEATH DO WE PART?

satoru isn't crazy. he's had time to recognize the events that have unfolded. he stood at your funeral with an impassive look on his face, hands shoved deep into his pockets. he'd put a bouquet at your grave every afternoon since that day. you're dead and he knows it. and yet somehow you're right in front of him, translucent and opaque, and yet so pretty. suddenly he doesn't know what's real anymore, but he doesn't want to question it. not when you've come back to him. not when he's missed you so much. (aka ... how the au would change if you died in high school.)

[tojisun]

biker simon who picks you up and drops you off to uni im js dizzy at the thought of it 😵‍💫

yeahhhhhHHHHHH

you signed up for that year-long discounted parking in campus and gave simon the little tag for when he picks you up. he teased when you gave it to him, saying that this whole backpack thing was just a one-time ride, but you and him both know that he’s just joking. hell, he won’t even make you take the commute to home because of how tedious it is, saying things like he’ll always pick you up so you better hang on tight.

which is why you just rolled your eyes at his drawled tease before waltzing away because your class is about to start.

thinking about how simon’s got his rucksack packed with essentials—extra protective gear from the jacket to the helmet, then some snacks like cookies and gummies. he’s even got a travel-sized tube of lotion just in case you forgot yours.

and it’s sweet, yes, but just the inherent softness in being picked up and dropped off without hesitation nor prompting. how he follows your schedule, easily taking in the change of routine just so he can be with you.

you told him that he didn’t have to, but he’s insistent. excited for it, even. so you fall into the idea of being pampered; getting used to being his backpack to the point that you’ve even began getting to know his biker gang—his usual friends, kyle and johnny and mr. price—but also those he just met in meets—konig and ajax.

it’s exhilarating.

every ride fills you up with giddiness, triumphing over all your worries and problems because, well, in the dead of the early morning or late night, as the city becomes a blur in your cruising journey, you feel suspended with just simon there for you.

he’s always been there for you; always caring for you; always protective of you. and every time, even with the silence, you feel the tension seep out of your body. then, you’re looking forward to the next day again, even if it’s just so you can reunite with simon when the afternoon bleeds into the sky.

.

there’s a certain curl in your shoulders that lets him know that you’ve had a bad day. he wants to ask, to comfort you, but you’re already snagging the helmet from inside of his bag with your lips jutted out just for the smallest of frowns. he bites the desire to croon and instead reaches forward to take the helmet away from you. you let him do so, huffing quietly, but turning to present your face to him because this—simon helping you with putting on the helmet—has become a tradition of some sorts now.

with him, tugging at the straps and then tapping at the casing when he’s done, and you, waiting with infinite patience because you know he loves doing last minute pokes. like today, he shakes your head as an extra step, and basked in the sound of your surprised giggles.

with your laughter petering out, simon reaches forward to cup your jaw. “ready?”

“yup!” you reply, popping the ‘p.’ you’re bouncing on your spot, eyes shining with excitement, and simon almost laughs because he knows. he gets it.

he gets the way you look forward to the thrill of a ride; of feeling the warm air turn into whipping wind; of going great speeds and dancing between traffic. of feeling like you’re untouchable (ironically, this is the most you will be vulnerable while you’re on the road, but simon has always been extra vigilant; never one to trust the dead silence of intersections or often unused roads because he knows how difficult it can be when one tests fate.)

but on its own, in its entirety, the ride is truly a unique experience, one that simon’s glad he gets to sure with you.

the travel back home is longer tonight, and that’s alright. you know that simon took the longer route back, anyway. that he purposefully took the wrong exit just so he can loop back in and extend your time together. you couldn’t thank him enough because this, just like this, you feel like things would end up turning for the better.

biker!simon mlist

[klausysworld]

Pet Puppy

Klaus wasn’t easily fooled. He knew that the Salvatores, Elena & co were hiding something from him. So he did what anyone would do and investigated the matter.

He figured it out to a person, originally he thought that perhaps it was another Gilbert sibling but then one day he caught her scent.

She must’ve been a wolf, meaning she must be Tyler’s sister or another werewolf family was in town. So he went straight to his first sired hybrid and fired 20 questions at him. He watched as the boy struggled to find any possible loopholes to answer the questions in a a way that told him nothing. And yet by doing so it told him just about everything.

He figured out what she must look like, how she dresses, things she liked and what things meant to her. She was the perfect omega in his mind, a sweet little girl who would behave well and have a soft, innocent persona.

He knew she must if she had been hidden away this long, been compliant to the rules the Mystic Falls gang had set for her.

It wasn’t the easiest task as he searched through the Salvatores house and spied on the Gilbert’s. He checked Bonnies too but found she barely stayed there herself now that she had her mother back. Klaus had nearly forgotten that he was able to get into Caroline’s house after the whole biting situation.

But when he noticed the blonde coming to the grill and picking up an extra plate of food his curiosity peaked. He followed her home and that’s when he spotted the pretty face he had pictured so well as she came and pulled the curtains closed with a bright smile on her face as Elena beckoned her into her arms.

He had to come back another day, get her alone and see if she truly was the perfect omega.

His wolf already thought so and even if she wasn’t he might just take her for the fun of it, piss off everyone in town while having a pretty thing to entertain him.

Though that perspective changed when he got inside the house the next morning. He watched as she nearly jumped a mile when he came up behind her resulting in a pillow launched at his head and a chuckle to erupt from him.

He chased after her as she darted around the house, taking much enjoyment in the hunt before ultimately pouncing at her and tackling her to the ground.

His wolf could have purred at the instant submission she offered once he had caught her, the way her neck arched for him to bite if he so pleased and the little whine she emitted was delightful.

He looked down at her, keeping her pinned against the carpeted floor as he looked her over. She were smaller than he originally imagined but it only added to his attraction, her eyes big and fearful and yet a swirl of lust within them as his wolf produced a strong alpha scent to entice her in. His head tilted to the side and in response so did hers making the corner of his lips pull up.

She wriggled beneath him slightly in an attempt to get him to weaken his hold which he did after squeezing her neck gently. He moved back for her to sit up, he watched as she twitched in anticipation, as she got ready to bolt again. But she didn’t, just remained on edge as he trailed his fingers along each curve of her body. Certain spots he touched gained different reactions, mostly whimpers and little squeaks if he pressed down too hard.

But she didn’t shy away from him, she allowed him to touch and feel every inch of her skin that he could reach and shuddered or shivered in reply. Her wolf’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as his hands left a path of fire in their wake. Both amusement and lust mixed through him as she practically crawled her way into his lap and he rubbed all along her thighs, hips, back, torso, chest, shoulders.

His lips brushed along the side of his neck as she whined quietly to herself before stopping just behind her ear and kissing the spot tenderly.

“Pretty puppy” he murmured as a soft purr rumbled through her. Her head leant back against his shoulder as she sat between his legs. His teeth nibbled her earlobe lightly making her lips part and a soft moan to leave her.

Another 20 minutes went by of his kisses growing rougher, her sounds getting higher and louder as her body arched and clung to him.

Of course until a loud shriek tore his attention away from the swell of her breast which he had nearly gotten completely out of her bra cup. He glanced up to find Caroline looking horrified at the display of hickeys and bite marks in her friends throat, let alone her enemy with his mouth around the omegas tit.

Y/n was entirely out of it though and still moaning softly as his hands groped her gently, his eyes daring Caroline to do or say anything.

She practically ran out of her house, straight on the phone and screaming down it to Damon in a fit.

But by the time Damon had arrived, Klaus had Y/n back at his house.

Her legs around his waist and arms around his neck as he buried his face in between her breasts while he carried her up the stairs.

He nipped and sucked along them greedily before dropping her onto his bed and crawling on top of her. And he was entirely ready to claim her right there and then, until he looked down and saw her sweet face.

Her eyes completely black and her body almost vibrating from how loud her purr was. The backs of her fingers brushed over her chest as he hummed gravely.

“You’re such a sweet omega aren’t you puppy?” He muttered seeing her pant and tug at his henley like a dog in heat. His lips pulled into a smile and he leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. “Oh I think I’ll be keeping you my lovely” he smirked.

———————————————————————

And he most definitely intended on it.

He didn’t care how many times Stefan, Damon, Elena, Caroline, Bonnie, Jeremy, Tyler, anyone came to try take her away. He had a firm grip on her at all times, keeping her at his side or pressed to his chest.

She was such a good girl for him, always doing as asked and curled up on top of him.

He would kiss her head and smooth his hands down her sides while feeling her face muzzle into his chest.

He carried her just about everywhere, whether it was to the kitchen or across town. There shouldn’t even be the slightest risk that she would be stolen from him. And he made sure of it.

Hands on her, arms around her, scent rubbed all over her and a range of sweet nothings and dirty somethings whispered in her ears.

She was his little pup until the day they both died, she would never leave him, not with how good he was for her.

He always kept her safe, protected, happy, loved and cared for.

“Hungry? Don’t worry puppy, I have your food on the way and your snack drawer is full.”

“Thirsty? Would you rather drink my blood or I bring you something different?”

“Sleepy little pup? That’s okay, you can curl right up here.”

Anything she needed, he could and would provide. Always…and forever of course.

[spideyhexx]

Billy knew he didn't actually hate you, but it was the only front he'd been able to put up.

Ever since you joined his gang, you've been a thorn in his side. Your constant teasing and that sickeningly sweet smile that played on your lips every time his jaw clenched at your words would send him into a spiral. It's like you always knew the right way to thread words together to make him mad.

He admits to himself he's taken with you. He sees your beauty and understands the intrigue that other men express with ease towards you, but there's just a coil inside him that tightens with anger whenever words fall out of your pretty mouth.

Billy felt poisoned by you. You occupy every part of his mind. He isn't even sure how he's supposed to do his job when he's only thinking about your voice. Or the way you called him out for staring while you sipped on your drink. Or when he saw you come out of your tent, buttoning your shirt up and you just had to comment on his blush.

This morning would be like any other. Everyone is scattered, eating their breakfast. Billy leans up against a post and does the same.

"Mr. Bonney, I recall being promised an extra piece of bread," he hears you from behind him and you swoop in, taking his already half-eaten piece of bread from him. "I reckon that was Jesse, not me," his eyes pierce daggers into you, but it somehow never phased you. At least on the outside.

On the inside, you wanted to melt from his gaze but you're smarter than that. You knew how to keep yourself composed, so all Billy saw was a calm expression and a smile as you ate what was left of his bread.

He'd roll his eyes so hard, you'd think he wanted you to hear it. He stalks off towards a small group of his men who've gathered around to talk. You trail behind him, watching his arm flex as he reaches for his hat and puts it on his head, adjusting it only slightly before leaving it. You always like his hat and the way his little brown curls would peek out in tufts from it. The attraction you had for him was overwhelming at times but the power you felt when you got him so pissed off was enough to fuel your aching feelings for him.

A wild thought enters your mind as he comes to a halt, you a few paces behind him. Annoying him was the epitome of fun for you and why not start the day off strong? Without another thought, you sneak up behind him and yank his hat off of his head, backing away quickly as he turns on instinct, his hand at his gun. He relaxes when he notices it's just you.

"Give me that back," he snaps as the other boys whistle in amusement.

They were all used to your antics by now and loved it when you challenged Billy. You seemed to be the only person to really get under his skin so it was for their amusement too.

A taunt plays at the tip of your tongue like venom. "You gonna catch me?" You tighten your grip on his hat, a smile still on your lips as his mouth opens to say something, but nothing comes out.

Billy's mind is racing. He's still tired and he only got to eat half of his food cause of you and now you have his hat of all things. All he feels like he can do at that moment is let out a little chuckle, shaking his head.

He begins to walk towards you and you both circle one another as all attention is focused on the two of you. "We both know I can run faster than you, sweetheart," Billy tries. He tries so hard to not come off as irritated as he is but it's so obvious. You loved that about him.

His brow is knitted and his lips purse in frustration when you shake your head. "You think so little of me, Bonney."

The two of you circle one another for a bit. You want to just run but you're waiting to see his first move. Billy on the other hand doesn't think you would even run. He knows he can very easily get a few steps closer and grab his hat from you. He's trying to study your face like he wants to read your thoughts, but he just can't. You're too good, too concealed.

"You too scared, Bonney?" A few of the men around you snicker at that and you feel your smile turn into more of a smirk as Billy's face emits more anger. He swallows hard, nose flaring as he watches you like prey. But then again, maybe he's the prey. He takes two steps to move forward and you tsk before turning heel and dashing away.

"Fuck!" He curses as the men laugh and he takes off after you. Billy had to admit that you were faster than he thought, but he still caught up enough to try and reach out his hands to grab you. You spin out of his grasp, his fingers barely grazing your waist before you run off again.

You don't miss the way he lets out a groan and you so badly wish you could turn around and see the look on his face, but you book it. The land is vast where you are, so much room and you take that advantage.

When you're a decent distance away, you stop, "you're pretty slow, Bonney!" You watch him heave it as he keeps running after you and you decide to slow your pace as you continue. Maybe he's had enough. And maybe you wanna see his handsome face up close again.

The lake comes into view as you run and Billy nears closer to you. It's like the adrenaline kicked in for him full-time as you feel your own heart pounding, just waiting to feel him catch you.

When Billy gets close enough to grab you, and he does. His hands grip onto your waist hard and he's tugging you close to him as you let out a shriek. The force of this, however, with both of you running and the hold he's got on you makes him lose his footing. He falls onto the ground, bringing you down with him.

He takes most of the fall and you land on top of him, his grasp on you so fucking tight. Despite the wind being knocked out of him for a moment, Billy's made aware of how your ass is now pressing right against his crotch and it takes every nerve in his body to not just buck his hips up against you to continue the sensation that's rocketing throughout his body in that instant. He knows he's digging his fingers tight on your hips and it gives his clouded mind all the more reason to grind against you, but he doesn't. His grip loosens.

He tries to sit up after a moment and that's when he realizes you're...laughing? Laughing so hard as you roll off of him onto your back next to him in the grass.

You both pant from exhaustion and you place Billy's hat on his chest, patting it before continuing in your fit of laughter. He looks at you with his brow raised. Billy's never had such conflicting emotions course through him before, but he knew he loved the sight of you laughing this hard. And that it was him and only him.

He really did his best to keep his lips from quirking up into a smile, but you were already looking at him. "oh don't hide it, Mr. Bonney, you loved that," you get out as you continue to laugh and that's when Billy noticed you were crying from it.

And all Billy could do, despite whatever had been holding him back, was smile and laugh along.

He drops his head into the grass as you sit up and wipe at your eyes. Billy can't take his eyes off of you. The morning sun hits you perfectly and he's even seen you laugh like this. For this one moment, any anger you've caused him dissipates, and he's left only with some sort of happiness.

You finally look back at him and notice the slight flush on his cheeks as he stares up at you. You try to return your breathing to normal as you glance at his hat, but then you see something else.

"Are you hard right now?" Billy lifts his head up, moving his hat from his chest, and sees his arousal from the situation had been more than he might've expected and he looks at you as you try to hold in your laughter.

"Sweetheart, don't-" but you're already cackling and Billy accepts his defeat in the matter, watching you with a squint in his eyes due to the sun and a smile on his lips.

let's chat about billy, here :)

[serxinns]

Hi! If you do see this I am wondering if you can do baker x Yandere mha (like Class 1A) or aged up reader (baker still) x Pro hero’s

But as in Mafia Au :3

Ooooo mafia drama I like your style

There is a city that is labeled as the mafia's playground yes the town was pretty well known for its famous buildings and activities and spots with beautiful views but everyone is terrified of the mafia, so bad that pro-heroes are useless against them heck they're even terrified themselves of going into that town knowing they're Mafia's main targets

but that didn't scare you into moving and opening your new bakery there! Your parents ofc were worried but you reassured them that you were fine and you'd protect yourself! Plus a dangerous city won't push you away from your dream job!

A month after settling in your house and giving out sweet treats to customers you were slowly but surely getting a bit popular around the city your bakery would be always crowded during the day, especially in the afternoons but strangely at night you understand at 1st since its night and some people have curfews and work it was the behavior that most customers would look panicky desperately trying to rush you to finish their order and once you did they quickly grabbed their order and leave

One day a group of people maybe about 5-6 showed up one night all dressed like they were at some fancy bar or some party there was an angry blonde, a goofy redhead, a bubbly pink-skinned girl, a calm and beatiful purple hair girl, another blonde dude with a blacklighting strike on his head next to him was a short black haired male with a playful grin, they were all chatting and joking around with each (well mostly the blonde and the black hair) but you didn't mind it one bit not noticing what kind of people you were talking to

"Hello Welcome, what would you ladies and gentlemen like?" They all stopped and looked at you your adorable smiling face and doughy eyes with adorable soft hair and a cute little baker outfit with a Cute apron to top it all together the gang was memorized by this untill one of them cleared their throat "yea sweet thing I'll have a taiyaki with a side of your number on it~" he said with a wink you mentally rolled your eyes and wrote down the order, the other blonde pushed him out the way to tell his order "I'll have some cinnamon apple pie with extra cinnamon" "I'll have some dango please!" "Cupcakes for me please.." After the gang shouted out their order you happily went headed to the kitchen

The gang watched how you happily hummed to yourself putting all the ingredients in the bowl pouring in the pans and putting them in the oven "It might take a while if you all don't mind?" "Nope not at all!" The pink haired girl said withna bright smile matching yours it wasn't like they wanted to go they want to know more about you "so whats a little baker like you doing in this here city?" The red head said with a toothy grin "Oh I always wanted to run a bakery on my own ever since I was a child-"

The more you talked about your experiences and fun adventures of being a Baker the more obsessive and possessive they became the mafa gang just wanted to protect you and your bakery a person like you shouldn't be running a bakery alone in this dangerous city you just screamed to be protected that's when they decided they're gonna protect you and your bakery! No matter what! During the time you found out who they were the guy who was trying to flirt with you was Denki the redhead, Kirishima or Eljijou, the gruff Aah blonde was Bakugo the bubbly pink skin was Mina the black-haired man was Sero, and cool purple head was jirou

"Here's your order" you happily handed them their sweets the package design for the sweets was even more cute with bows and Sanrio characters with a cute little bow on top! "So cute.." they all thought as they grabbed their orders "Goodbye have a good night!" "Wait you're not gonna go home as well street this time is dangerous" you gasped "Oh I am your last customer!" "And your dumbass is gonna walk all alone defenseless?" Bakugo eyeing you "I'll be fine I'll fight 'em off!" You confidently said as they all waved goodbye at younas you did the same "Such nice people!" You said obliviously

"We're totally following them back home for their safety right?"

"Right" the rest of the gang said

And from this day forward your mafia friends would come over every night trying to try and meet you they rarely ever come here for the sweets but you didn't mind they were your friends it was nice to talk to people without them scaring out their minds and rushing you makes you feel like this city isn't dangerous!

Until one day another group of people went into your store and it wasn't your friends they were dressed up like your friends all tator up and well dressed but they were different people one green headed boy with freckles, a brown haired girl, a man with glasses that look very stern, a man wit no expression with red and white hair, a girl with a ponytail, and a green haired girl with her tongue sticking out, "Oh this might be their friends? Or do they alao go to the same area bakugo and his gang " You thought curiously

"Hello welcome to the cafe how can I help you!" You smiled once again everyone stopped what they were doing to look at you, you were just so precious just so cute! Why is a little darling like you working in a dangerous city like this? The brown hair spoke up excited to meet you "Hello! You must be y/n!?" The brown hair girl said as she smiled, you were a bit shocked wondering how she knew your name but shook it off as they probably heard it from somewhere else "Yes I am nice to meet you!" The girl later introduced herself as Ochako, the glasses dude Iida, the green-haired, Deku the pony girl Momo, and the green frog Tsuyu but she prefers Tsu and that's how you all became friends!

Izuku and you would ramble on and on about who your favorite heroes are,Ochako and you have a passion for baking, tsuyu talking about retirement facts, and Iida being a gentleman as he is offering to help with the dangerous stuff! momo offered to buy more supplies for you which you told her she didn't have to but she insists

After you bid goodbye to your friends you bid them goodbye and happily walk to your home!

"We're gonna follow them are we right?"

"NO CAUSE WE DECIDED THAT 1st"

Out goes the bakusquad and gang along with Takoyami and Sato who you didn't meet yet but will soon

"Kacchan! What a lovely suprise! What do you think ur doing here"

"We should be asking you the same thing Midoriya back off theyre already ours"

"Oh please like yall can take any good care of them"

"I might as well you watch that mouth four eyes our darling we saw them 1st and we get them 1st

"And what makes you think you decided that?"

The members kept bickering among each other untill Izuku calm quiet them down

"It seems like we can't decide a solution so why don't we just share them !"

The other members looked at each other and then at their group bakugo didn't want to do it at 1st but after some very hard convincing he was in (for now) and that's how it settled they all Decided they were gonna protect you

"No matter the cost~"

[hurts2think]

Hi! This might be a bit complicated but can I request a Young!Bridget x Goddess!Reader (sister of Hades, she’s either his age or a year older than him, just not younger)

Initially, she doesn’t study at Merlin Academy cause she finds it stupid to study amongst mortals. But due to her brother Hades causing trouble along with his group of friends, she was forced to go to the said school and keep an eye on him.

She arrived the same moment Bridget was being mocked by Uliana and decided to step in. Ever since then, reader always kept them away from the princess and Bridget made it her habit to constantly be around the goddess and spoil her with treats. Overtime, they eventually developed feelings for each other but is too afraid to admit it. (The ending is up to you)

Pure fluff pls, Thank you!

🎀Young!Bridget Hearts x Reader🎀

Reader pronouns: She/her

Pairing: Young!Bridget Hearts x HadesSister!Reader

Plot: Being only a year older than your trouble maker of a brother, you were often held responsible for his actions. So once he starts getting in trouble at school, you have no choice but to attend too and find yourself defending an oddly pink colored girl.

Word count: 2.7k

Extra: I'm sorry this took so long, but in my defense it's almost 3k words. I hope you guys like this even though it's long...🫶🎀

Attending highschool really was not something on your bucket list of anything you actually had to do. Who ever heard of gods going to school? Even as a teenager it was absolutely not necessary.

That was, until, your brother got a girlfriend and they started following each other around like sad puppies. So he decided to go to Merlin Academy, the same school she attended. You didn't attend the school, naturally. Why should you? Studying amongst all of the tedious mortals sounded exhausting and not something you'd enjoy. But if your brother liked it, who were you to judge? You’re just happy if he’s happy.

And of course, like anything he did, you as the older sister were held responsible. Hades was apparently causing too much trouble up there so you were forced to go make sure he stayed out of trouble. You really couldn't understand why it was your responsibility. You were only a year older than him afterall, and he should be the one suffering for his actions, not you. There wasn't a single good thing that could come of this.

Everything up in the world felt so overly bright and annoying. You couldn't even look at someone without the color palette of their clothes straining your eyes.

But you just kept telling yourself you only had to get through the year and hope Hades fixes his attitude. You didn't even understand why he was getting into so much trouble for messing with other students. What's the point in picking on others? Your brother confused you in a lot of ways like that.

You typically kept to yourself, only getting involved when absolutely necessary. However, the other day, you found yourself in a situation where you had no choice but to step in. A girl, who seemed almost overly sweet, was happily handing out her homemade sweets to all of the other students. She had a type of genuine kindness about her that made her a target of bullying. Your brother's gang noticed this and started picking on her, mocking her innocent gesture and trying to steal the cupcakes, though you weren’t entirely sure why? Nor do you really care.

You stepped in, confronting the VKs and somehow managing to defuse the situation, standing up for the girl in a rather threatening manner. You were pretty sure that if it weren’t for the fact that Hades was your brother, Uliana would have definitely shifted you to be a new target to mess with. But you had seemed to call some kind of uneasy truce, though it was likely they’d still pick on the pink girl not far into the future.

And you really were just glad that was the end of that and hopefully you could just go back to minding your business and only pulling Hades aside to tell him to get his act together rather than actually getting involved. But just your luck, you were never let off so easily.

———

You find a spot in the courtyard, away from the hustle of the over energetic students. The sun shined down into the grass and onto your face, making you squint. You settle onto a bench, the sounds of distant students chatting faded in your mind. A gentle breeze occasionally threatens to turn the pages of the book you had opened in front of you.

You felt almost at peace for a second before your calm moment was abruptly interrupted.

“Hey! You’re Hades’ sister, right?” The obnoxiously pink girl you defended the other day asks with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

You looked up at her, hesitating as if you were unsure how to respond. You settle for a nod.

Somehow she took this as an invitation to sit next to you on the bench, “Well, I’m Bridget.” She introduced, somehow keeping that bright smile on her perfect face, “I just wanted to thank you for the other day.”

Letting out a small sigh you shook your head, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You shrugged it off, rather shrug it off than worry about it and have some kind of stupid situation where she thinks she’s indebted to you or something.

“No, really! I mean… Not a lot of people just stand up to Uliana and her crew like that, especially for me.” She giggled, but the giggle came off as a little awkward.

A puzzled expression took over your face and you tilted your head, “You mean your friends don’t stand up for you or anything?” You raised a brow, almost suspicious of her claim.

Bridget fiddled with a small box that was in her hands before answering, “Well, my best friend Ella does. But they pick on her just as much as I do. And… other than her I don’t really have any other friends.” She explained with almost too much of a light hearted expression for someone who just said they’re bullied and have hardly any friends.

Subconsciously you let out a small scoff, looking her up and down, “I find that hard to believe. You’re practically bursting with that ‘friendship is magic’ type energy.” You say jokingly but Bridget’s expression showed she couldn’t really tell if you were being serious or not.

“Anyway, I just wanted to give this to you. I made them this morning.” She smiled, opening the small box she was holding to present to you small homemade pastries she made. The were some kind of cookies in the shape of hearts.

You were a little taken a back by the gesture, “Oh, uh, no. It’s okay. I’m not really a sweets type of girl… I mean, I never even had anything sweet like that before. I probably wouldn’t like it.” You explain but it mostly sounded like you were a little flustered by such a kind and personal gesture.

Bridget’s smile grew but her face also showed that she was surprised to hear this, "What? Really? You've never tried anything sweet before?"

"Nope. Really you don't want to eat anything in the underworld..." You trail off.

She tilts her head slightly, "Well then how do you know you won't like it if you've never tried it?"

Really you couldn't argue with that. You wanted to but maybe if you had one of her little treats she'd leave you alone, "I guess you're right..." You take one of the small pastries from the box, staring at it for a short moment before taking a bite.

The outer layer of the cookie crumbles, a little dry at first, and then suddenly, your teeth sink into the jam. The flavor spreads across your tongue in a wave, something between fruity and rich, a sensation that catches you completely off guard. At first you weren't sure how to feel about it, but once it really sank in it was like the most delightful feeling in the world. You facial expression definitely shifts to a little more surprised at how good it was.

"Do you like it?" Bridget asks in anticipation with a smile.

You nodded quickly before taking another bite, a bigger one this time. "You made these? Can I have another?" You suddenly ask, your attitude suddenly brightening slightly for the first time the whole time you've been here.

Bridget giggles, “Of course! I did make them for you after all,” she says, handing you the whole box, her smile brighter than ever before. She was very happy you liked them so much.

You took the box from her before clearing your throat and regaining your composure, "Thank you, Bridget..."

-----

The next couple weeks were not really what you were expecting. After you stood up for Bridget and your little interaction with her, she started coming around and talking to you more and more often until it got to the point where she approached you everytime she saw you.

What was even less expected was that she kept bringing you treats and things she made, insisting it was 'because you need to try out these things you've missed out on!' which honestly... You weren't really complaining. The sweets were good and Bridget was nice enough... You never really planned on making friends, your only real friend was your brother anyway. But she seemed like she really wanted to be your friend.

"So, you and that Bridget girl girlfriends now or something?" Hades asked, unprompted as he sat back into his chair.

The two of you unfortunately had to share a dorm since you were related and not many of the other students were willing to share a dorm with literal gods of the underworld.

"What?" You ask, looking up from the book in your hands, a little shocked by the question, "No. Of course not... I don't date anyone." You huff, looking back down at your book.

You don't know why but the question made your heart suddenly feel like it was speeding up and your face warm.

"That's probably because no one likes you." He rolled his eyes, "I know that look. You totally have the hots for her." He smirked teasingly, standing up and pulling his chair to sit on front of you

You shot him a glare before closing your book, “I do not.” You refuted.

But he just ignored you, “Look, If you want her to like you, I can tell you exactly how to get that boat sailing,” he offered

“What do you know about girls? You and Mali fight like everyday,” You raise a brow, not convinced by your brother’s offer.

He shook his head and sat up, “It’s simple. Castlecoming is soon, right? Ask her to go with you. But you gotta make it all romantic like get her flowers. Girls like that. Makes them feel special.” He said confidently.

“You say that as if I’m not a girl. I know what girls like.” You insist. But really you were totally clueless when it came to romance in general. Not that you actually liked Bridget or anything… right? “Besides! I don’t actually like her.”

Hades looks unconvinced, “Okay. But I’m gonna say I told ya so once you two start going out.”

You only sigh and roll your eyes, looking back down at your book. But you couldn’t stop thinking of the subject now. Bridget was pretty cute. Well, she was really cute. The way her big curls bounced with every step she took and the way she twirled around when she was happy was adorable. And it was like everytime she brought you a treat it was harder and harder to stay away. It was like she had you trapped in some kind of spell every since you had that stupid pastry she gave you.

Your face only burned hotter as you thought about it, burying your face deeper in your book so Hades wouldn’t notice.

———

The next day you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Asking Bridget to the dance. You didn’t even intend on going at first, but ever since Hades put that stupid thought in your head you just couldn’t drive it out.

“Do you have any plans for Castlecoming?”

That was the last question you wanted to hear. Especially from Bridget, “Uh. No. I don’t think so.” You mutter.

Bridget gives a small frown yet somehow still seemed full of bubbly energy, “Yeah, me either.”

You paused for a moment. Now felt like the best time to ask her. Maybe you should. You didn’t have plans… she didn’t have plans… maybe she’d want to? No. Probably not. She was sweet and hung around you but would she ever want to go out on a date? You two were total opposites. She was literally bright and full of color while you were a goddess of the underworld. Someone like her deserves someone who’s as happy and bright as herself.

“Castlecoming is stupid anyway. It's just a school dance. It won't really matter in the long run..." Was all you managed to say.

Your words seemed to make her expression deflate slightly, "Maybe... But it would still be fun, wouldn't it?"

For the rest of the day you found it hard to even look Bridget in the eyes. You felt like hitting your head into a wall. Why were you suddenly so flustered about this? All because of what Hades said.

What if he was right? Maybe you did like her... She just felt so perfect and amazing. You never felt so safe and comfor with someone, you never felt yourself holding back a smile so many times in one day.

After some long consideration and staring off in your class, you ask Bridget to meet you after school by the gardening club. You felt it was secluded enough and far from anywhere someone might see you two. Just in case this went horribly wrong.

You stood by the entrance that was covered in bushes of flowers and fruit. An arch stood tall that you stood under, pacing back and forth, waiting for her to arrive. While you were very anxiously awaiting, last minute you decided to pick a rose from one of the bushes for her, absent mindedly picking off the thorns on the stims. And then you heard foot steps approaching.

"Hey! Sorry I took so long. Ella and I had to finish a project," Bridget giggled, walking into the garden as you quickly hid the rose behind your back.

You clear your throat, "It's fine..."

Bridget smiled and stopped in front of you, "What was it that you wanted to talk about."

You felt it was even harder to look her in the eyes. You looked down at your feet and stumbled through your thoughts to find the right words before you just started spitting stuff out, "I was just thinking, uhm, ya know. You don't have any plans for Castlecoming. And I don't have any plans for Castlecoming." Your words tripped a little as you felt your heart beat faster, like it was about to leap from your throat, "Do you want to go to Castlecoming with me?" You suddenly blurted out, holding the rose out to her.

Before she could even say anything or before you could even look at her face you immediately realized your nerves may have accidentally triggered your powers and set the rose on fire... "Oh! Shit—!" You frantically waved the rose until it went out, your expression ten times more embarrassed than before.

You suddenly felt Bridget's hand over yours, making you suddenly look into her eyes for the first time, "Wait, are you serious? Do you actually want to go with me?" She asked, a smile slowly appearing on her face.

You look back at your hands that she was now holding. Her hands were so soft, gentle, and warm compared to yours. You hesitantly flip one of her hands over and placed the now crisped rose into her palm, "I've never been so serious in my life." You say, a sense of calmness finally settling into your tone.

Her grin grew brighter and she squealed in excitment, jumping and suddenly pulling you into a tight embrace, "I would love to go with you!"

You were shocked by the sudden embrace but a small smile crept onto your face, slowly wrapping your arms back around her. "You're the most amazing girl I've ever met. I know you don't like to show it but you're so caring and kind. I love everything about you..." She admits with a grin.

She pulled away slightly to plant a kiss on your cheek, making you return to that flustered state.

"You're adorable," she giggles, holding the rose in one hand and taking your hand in the other, "We need to try on dresses right now!"

"Oh, uhm, okay." You say, still processing this turn of events. You really expected some kind of rejection. But now you were being pulled away by the pink girl to start preparing for your first date.

You couldn't calm your heart beat or the way you felt like your cheeks were on fire from how flustered you were. You couldn't believe she actually liked you back... And she thought you were caring and kind... Not even something you could see in yourself, but she saw it. This made you smile.

[babydollitzel]

Hii 🎀 i was wondering if you could write head-canons for Dallas with a shy reader like someone who finds it hard to stand up for herself or has a hard time ordering in restaurants

𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐒𝐡𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Dallas Winston x Shy!reader

warnings/extra; like one swear word but it’s kinda censored

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ hii! and I’m afraid this is so me I always make my mom order for me😭

𐙚 Relishes in your shy personality since it’s easier to make you flustered and get a reaction out of you

𐙚 he thinks that the fact you can’t stand up for yourself makes it all the easier to mess with you

𐙚 likes being all touchy in public just to embarrass you

𐙚 But at the same time he gives you a whole little speech as to why you shouldn’t let people walk all over you

𐙚 He teases you a lot but gets mad when other people do it

𐙚 Also gets pretty protective, specifically in social situations. He takes glances at you to see if you’re comfortable or not

𐙚 Also gets really defensive whenever people tease at you for being quiet or make you uncomfortable

𐙚 Tries to get you out of your comfort zone, especially when it comes to communicating with him and other people

𐙚 For example, when yall are ordering food at restaurants, you’re too shy to order for yourself. Me fr

𐙚 Before the waitress/waiter gets there you tell him what you want to order and he always says he’ll do it for you. But when the waitress comes by that little sht just says his order

𐙚 When yall are in public and he notices you getting nervous or anxious he wraps an arm around you or gives your hand a little squeeze

𐙚 When the gang met you for the first time they thought you were real sweet

𐙚 they were also surprised that such a hardheaded guy like Dallas scored a shy girl like you.

𐙚 P.s. you and Johnny get along especially well since you both have pretty similar personalities

𐙚 Overall I feel like the relationship would work out pretty well since you’re quiet so you guys don’t really argue

𐙚 Plus you know what they say, opposites attract!

[alaskan-wallflower]

the gang would fuck up chicken wings. darry straight up puts it in his mouth and pulls it out like-with the bone being pristine. soda likes the spicy kind and pony likes the mild ones-johnny likes sweet and sour with blue cheese, dally actually has no spice tolerance but claims he loves the extra spicy ones, two but will eat just belly anything and steve loves spicy as well

They would love Buffalo Wild Wings