#tip: use your tall friends as a ladder

[dooblebugss]

this idea wouldnt leave my head

[astroboots]

EVERY YOU EVERY ME: Issue #2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Your streak of bad luck continues as you find that the universe is not done putting you in harm's way. Luckily, you have grouchy Spider-man to save you.

Word count: 3,500 words.

Content: Slowest of the burn, near death experiences, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara being a rude bastard and a total softie.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

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According to an article that ran in the New York Times: one out of every 40 New Yorkers will have a run in with a Superhero in the time they live here.

That might not sound like much, but considering that nearly 8.5 million people live in this city, it adds up to a lot of people. In fact, most in your friends circle have their own anecdotal story to tell.

I ran into Tony Stark at the Brandy Library and he asked me for my phone number. Bit of a sleaze but he bought our whole table a round of drinks.

Captain America landed on my Fiat on Manhattan Bridge. He dented the roof, but he was very polite about it.

Daredevil was hanging out at the fire escape ladder above the Meatball shop. Gave me tips on what to order.

It's nothing short of a miracle that having lived in this city for as many years as you have that this is the first time you've had a Supes encounter.

It'll be a great story to tell at parties. You fell out of the Chrysler building and were rescued mid-air. It blows all the other stories out of the water. Though, you'll probably leave out the part where he wished he'd left you to die.

You stare blindly at your computer screen. There are endless rows of cells on your excel sheet no matter how far you scroll. Uninterrupted numbers and reference codes for insurance claims that are waiting for your attention. But the numbers and letters all blend into an indecipherable sludge soup. All you can focus on is: 'I should've let you fall.'

Heat prickles your cheek, as you replay his words in your head.

What the hell.

That was entirely unnecessary.

You didn't deserve that.

Over the course of the last 24 hours, you've played the scene on an endless loop in your head, until the memory is worn and scratched like a used up VHS tape.

Did you do something wrong? You must've. Who has ever heard of a Superhero treating a civilian in this manner? You’re just a hapless innocent bystander who fell out of a building due to a supervillain battle they started. To blame it on you and then call it a mistake. Isn't that something a supervillain would do?

Gritting your teeth, you feel yourself seething of the memory of the windows next to you breaking and shattering out of nowhere as a bird-person villain with mechanical wings tumbled past you. Next thing you knew you were tumbling out the window. 

And then he saved you.

Did he mean to save someone else? Is that why he was so annoyed? But, you didn't see any other people falling from the building on your way down.

You replay the memory. Again.

The looming silhouette of his towering frame over yours as he sneered down at you.

He looked at you like he knew you. Like you had offended him with your mere existence. But you don't understand how. You've never met him before. Never met anyone who looked even remotely like him. You would've remembered a man with red eyes, they're not exactly common. Plus, you don't think you've ever met someone quite so tall. Your neck hurt with the angle you had to crane just to look at his face.

What could you possibly have done in your lifetime to piss off a Superhero you've never met before?

For that matter what Superhero is he anyway? You think back at the dark navy suit clinging onto every inch of skin, embellished by that bright angry red in the emblem of a spider.

Spider-man... 

Except Spider-man is known to be a swell guy with a great sense of humor. Not a rude asshole.

Aren't his colors inverted too? You pull up the browser on your screen and google "spiderman outfit". There's over 800 million hits. In all of them Spiderman's suit is primarily red with blue embellishment.

Whoever the guy is, you don't think he's your friendly neighborhood Spiderman that every New Yorker knows and loves.

With a hapless sigh, you click aimlessly on your screen, trying to look busy at work for the next twenty minutes until you can go on your lunch break. You go through the motions of your soul sucking tasks. Tagging each insurance claim into one of the following categories: approved/rejected/further missing information required.

Peering over your cubicle wall to the wall of windows, you spy the section that has been zoned off since yesterday. The broken window you were knocked out of has already been replaced, but there's still shattered glass and debris nearby.

Your stomach drops, the phantom sensation of the ground beneath you giving way. For a brief second you swear you can feel the weightlessness of soaring through the skies without anything catching your fall.

You stand up from your desk, solid ground meeting the soles of your feet to remind you where you are. 

The office.

There's a monotone drone of workers all around you grumbling and sighing just as unhappily. The quiet tip-tapping of keyboards of the working masses.

Is this the life you managed to escape death for?

Is this it?

It's kind of sad isn't it? You nearly died and lived to tell the tale, only to return to a life so unremarkable your brain didn't deign it necessary to provide you with any highlights (cause there are none).

The most exciting thing that has happened to you the whole of this year was being insulted by a grumpy superhero. The most you've wanted to live was during that span of ten seconds when you were falling out of a building to your death.

You glance at your clock, still 15 minutes before noon. You log out of your desktop anyway.

You barely make it across the street from your office. The light is green as you cross Lexington Avenue when the screeching noise of tires tears down the street and rips through your eardrums.

A yellow taxi hurtles towards you at full speed. Through the car window separating you, the cab driver is staring up at you with wide-eyed horror. In that fraction of a second before the hard metal is going to collide and shatter every bone in your body, you only have one thought: Oh god, this is going to hurt.

Life doesn't flash before your eyes. All you see is the familiar blur of shiny blue and red.

Go figure that's the only moment extraordinary enough for your brain to think it's worth replaying before you die.

There's a blunt and forceful shove to the side of your ribs. Softer than you would've imagined a two tonne vehicle slamming into you would be. It doesn't hurt. It reminds you of that time you played football with your cousin and he body slammed you to the lawn. You've heard about this phenomena, the brain will try to protect itself by going unconscious if the pain is too extreme.

But there's no bright light, when you open your eyes all you see is the familiar shiny blue fabric.

A firm weight wraps around your shoulders, and you recognize this, the feeling of being held as you're pulled into their solid chest. There's not enough time for you to look up, you're slammed onto the ground, the solid warmth wrapped around you, absorbing the fall.

The pressure wrapped around you shifts then lifts away entirely. When you open your eyes for a second time, there’s no one there holding you. 

There's no one else there with you. Just the standstill traffic of cars and pedestrians gawking at you.

A concerned woman runs over to you, bending down to help you up on your feet. "Are you okay? That car came out of nowhere."

Your legs feel unsteady, wobbling as you put weight on it to stand up. 

“I’m fine, I think,” you respond, and look down on yourself. There are no scrapes, just a bit of dust on your work-attire from traffic.

"You're so lucky, Spiderman was there to save you."

You blink up at the woman in dazed confusion and it takes your brain a few seconds to process what she's telling you.

Spider-man...

In your mind's eye the flashes of blue and a vivid red invades your vision. It wasn't just your life flashing you by. Not just a figment of your imagination.

He was here. He saved you. (Probably not) Spider-man saved you (again).

A wave of gratitude washes over you. You take back every unflattering thought you had about the man not five minutes ago. Rude? Would a rude man save you, not once but twice in one day? No, of course not, you probably just misunderstood him, or misheard. After all, if he truly regretted saving you, he wouldn't have done it a second time... right?

--

When you get back at your desk, there's a post-it tacked to your computer screen, with an angry scrawl of a handwriting.

'Look BOTH ways before crossing!!!!!'

You stare at the note, and the way the word "both" is capitalized and aggressively underlined.

Rude.

The universe is out to kill you. You're sure of it.

They say that death comes in threes after all. So no one can blame you for being a little bit on the edge after you've gone two for two within the time span of 24 hours.

You stay away from windows in tall buildings. You look both ways, twice, before crossing the street. You try to go straight home from work the minute you clock out from work, turning down any and all initiations with friends to go out after out of precaution. It's just not worth the risk.

And for a while it seems to work. For a while, there are no more incidents. A week goes by and your nerves start to settle and you are lulled into a temporary sense of security before it all goes to shits.

A ceramic flower pot on a windowsill tumbling off the sixth floor of a brown house by Chelsea that would have dropped on your head and split your skull if someone hadn't bumped into you from behind that you weren’t able to catch sight of.

A piece of scaffolding that comes loose and falls from a construction site in West Village as you happened to walk past, and would have been crushed under if you weren’t tackled away at the last second by someone who fled the scene before you could thank them.

A hot dog cart runs amok, hurtling downhill towards you between 184th and 190th street in Manhattan when the cart suddenly out of nowhere, against the very laws of physics like it’s being pulled by an invisible force and changes direction mere inches in front of you, hurtling through the air and crashing into the windows of a bodega instead.

Each and every incident leaves you with an ever growing sense of paranoia that this cannot be explained away by being merely pure bad luck. There are cosmic forces at force that clearly want you dead.

On Thursday, there are leftover cupcakes from a client conference. Mary, the secretary in your team, boxes up four of them for you and tells you to take them with you, because, "you've had a rough week, toots."

It’s not a flattering assessment of you, but when you see your own reflection in the mirrors of the office toilets, you can’t help but think it’s an accurate one. You look rough. Eyes bloodshot with deep furrowed lines underneath. Your face is gaunter than you remember seeing it too. 

You take the cupcakes. 

It's the first good thing that has happened to you all week, and as small of a comfort it is, you take it as a win.

You eye the box from your desk the rest of the day, squirreled away in your tiny cubicle. You are determined not to eat one while at work. Because you'll be damned if Matt from accounting catches a whiff of your cupcakes and asks you to share one with him. You want to properly savor them in the comfort of your home at the end of the day.

But as often is the case when you have something to look forward to, the seconds, minutes and hours tick away with a reluctant drag as if time itself knew you wanted the day to end faster and decided it'd be fun to flip yet another cosmic middle finger in your direction. 

When it's finally time to end work, you get off your chair so forcefully it knocks it to the floor. You are practically jogging through the lanes of cubicles to get to the elevator, and nearly smack the security guard on the other side with how hard you swing open the front door. 

It's pouring outside, which, of course it is. You take off your jacket and cover your cupcake box with it, because you're not going to let the universe ruin the one good thing you've got going for you this week, as you run towards the station.

The moment you step into the damp and sticky station any remaining sense of joy in you evaporates. There's a hoard of tourists swarming the subway paying no attention to their surroundings. Tourists wearing their caps and backpacks and wheelies knocking over a 'Caution Wet Floor ' sign as they gather in a throng in front of the subway map, blocking the way as you hear the train approach.

It's not that big of a deal. A train comes every two to five minutes, and if you miss this one, you'll just get on the next one. It's not the end of the world. Logically, you know that. Emotionally and spiritually however, the world around you has just taken a little bit too much from you for you to concede to this minor little loss.

You are going to make this goddamned train.

Taking a determined step forward, you shoulder and push your way through the throng of people to fight your way to the front of the track.

You push a little too hard. Your feet skid across the slippery tiles, leg buckling from your own weight and you lose control, tumbling forward.

In your peripheral view there's a blinding light approaching. There's wind beating the sides of your face, and you can hear the screeching metal of the train right next to you. Your foot drops into empty space and you are falling into the tracks. 

Oh god why...

Why?

You just want to live.

The cupcake box flies out of your grip, splattered somewhere across the front pane of the train. There's a hard tug on your shirt as an invisible force you cannot see yanks you back, hard.

Your head whips back and for a fraction of a second, there are crimson eyes staring back down at you, you blink and then it's gone.

You land on your ass with a bruising force to your tailbone with a bone-breaking thud. The subway whizzes by with a demonic roar past you, inches from where you're sprawled on your ass on the dirty tiles of the subway station.

In front of your feet, there's a long streak of white frosting trailing down from your feet to the tracks of what looks like a crime scene.

Maybe it's the stress. Maybe you've just had a bad night of sleep (after many successive bad nights with little to no sleep). But something in you breaks at the sight of the frosting smeared across the dirty subway tiles.

Your eyes sting with exhaustion. Chest drawing in tight with a crumbling ache that makes you want to curl up on the cold tiles. You're just so tired.

There are people around you staring at you. No one in their right mind who lives in New York would sit on the floor of the subway.

But your legs are heavy and numb. You can’t move from the spot. Everything tastes like bile. You try to swallow and force it back down but it's no use, your throat has swollen shut. Your cheeks run wet and you press your palms to your eyes to make it stop but that only seems to make it worse. Snot runs down your nose and drips down your wrist. You're crying and you don't know how to stop.

Is this the rest of your life?

In the morning, you wake in your bed with a sore ache that gnaws at your bones. Swollen eyes and a soreness that scratches the lining of your throat.

Your back hurts, and as you try to turn to your side to get out of bed a sharp pain surges up along your entire spine.

Fuck.

It's too bright. The sunlight is offensive. It stings your eyes and makes you sick to your stomach. You only have vague memories of how you made it back home. Feet shuffling through the subway in a daze like the walking dead.

God is that what you are? A dead man woman walking?

You crane your head and catch a glimpse of your clock on the bedside table. 9.13 You're late for work. But that's mind as well, you don't have it in you to make it in.

What's the point anyhow? You hate that place.

Besides, if the subway on the way over doesn't finish off the job this time around, then eventually a taxi will. Failing that the universe is probably going to send over a ninja assassin rat from the subway to come after your life.

There's a soft breeze coming in from the open window that grazes the back of your neck and you turn your head towards it. All you can see from your window is the brick wall of the neighboring building. Even though your apartment is on the sixth floor, you can't see a speck of the New York skyline.

Still the breeze is nice, though you don't remember opening the window last night. You never usually do. It is silly and paranoid. No human robber could possibly climb up your six storey building just to climb into your window and rob you. If they could, they’d find that there isn’t much to rob in your apartment, the most valuable thing you own is a complete Le Creuset Cookware set. 

Your eyes glaze over your work tote bag on the floor next to the window, drifting upwards and spot the pink box sat on the window sill and you stop. 

You didn’t put that there. 

You sit upright in your bed, setting your feet to the floor and force yourself to leave your bed as you pad over to the open window.

It's a fancy looking thing. Baby pink, and chiffon ribbon on its side. Wrapping your pinkie around it, you tug it loose. You perch your thumb against the corner of the lid when you stop.

It's not another one of the universe's assassination attempts is it? You're not going to open it to find a bomb ticking down are you?

You hesitate for another moment, taking a deep calming breath before you gather the courage to finally lift the lid. Inside, there is a gorgeous display of cupcakes adorned with white and pink frosting, topped with strawberries, chocolate shavings and on two of them there's mini macarons.

Way fancier than the day old Costco cupcakes you'd lost yesterday.

Picking up one, you take a bite. The frosting is light and zesty. The refreshing lemon melts on the tip of your tongue as the buttery cream floods your mouth with the rich flavor. It's the best thing you've ever tasted.

Lifting the box, you check the sides of it to see if there's any note left behind, but there's none.

Gladis Bakery. It's from a bakery you've never heard of before. When you google the name the place is outside of New Jersey, 58 minutes away and you would need to take a subway then switch to a tram.

There's no note attached, but you don't need one. The list of candidates who would be physically able to climb up six floors up the bricks of your apartment building to leave cupcakes on your window isn’t a long one. 

Something warm blooms in your chest at the thought, and your fingers linger on the top of the box, savoring the taste of lemon and sugar still lingering on your tongue.

You put your head out the window, not sure what you're expecting to find but find yourself disappointed all the same when there's nothing there. No people in the quiet street below, and nothing unusual above.

"Thank you for uhm... saving me,” you say into the silence with nothing but the traffic noise below to answer you. 

 “And the cupcakes," you add. 

There's no reply. 

~ To be continued.

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[2baabbies]

skz bingo; #7, she/her pronouns, with chan?? maybe some sort of bookstore meet cute where reader can't reach a certain book that's on a shelf just out of her reach, but chan is a little taller than her so he manages to crowd against her back and grab the book for her?? 👀 I don't mind either sfw or nsfw, whichever feels like it fits the fic best!

my dear, I couldn’t make chan taller for fear of excluding the tall girlies ;w; but I think I still worked it in well. and I hope you like hyunlix, because they’re in the background fulfilling my bookkeeper/florist couple fantasies. I also split the difference between n/sfw with extraflirty!chan, enjoyyy 🫶🏻

🖤 read me like a book (bangchan x reader) 🖤

Pairings: chan x reader, background hyunlix

Words: 1170 (I gave up on the world limit)

Humour + Suggestive (no smut) + Fluff

fem!reader

Request guidelines here!

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

Felix has been flirting with Hyunjin for over ten minutes, which is only a problem for you because he is sitting on the only ladder in the entire bookstore. The shop owner sits on the middle rungs as the florist leans against the wall and dramatically tells him about his morning. Felix clutches the bundle of white and yellow daffodils Hyunjin brought for him to his chest with a dreamy smile.

Residing on one of the upper shelves, out of your reach, is a new romance novel that you came to purchase. You steal a glance at Hyunjin and Felix, then continue glaring at your target. Now, it was not just the minor inconvenience souring your mood, but the envy of seeing the two men together. You felt incredibly unlucky in comparison to the perfect couple chatting away in the corner. You were tired of reading about romance, and more than ready to find it for yourself.

The tips of your fingers just brush the spine of one of the copies as you try again, and you sigh in defeat. Climbing the shelf would be entirely too hazardous, although you are getting desperate enough at this point to try it. You had been waiting for this book for months. But, as miserable as you were, you refused to interrupt Felix and Hyunjin.

“Hey there,” You look over your shoulder to face the man that speaks to you, “You, uh, look like you could use a little help?”

“I’ve got it.”

The speed in which you turn away is criminal. The stranger is incredibly handsome, and you would be damned if you let the cutest man to ever walk into this bookstore see the smut you were trying to pull off the shelf. He clears his throat gently and you peek over your shoulder at him.

“Hm, are you sure? I’ve got to grab something up there anyway.”

“O-Okay. I-If you wouldn’t mind…”

You are about to move when the man drops a stepstool behind you and springs onto it with ease. He braces one hand over your shoulder and leans in, his chest brushing against your back as he grabs the books. Your breath catches as he hops down again, and you will yourself to breathe as you turn around. You inhale sharply as he does not hand the book over to you, but flips through it instead. He then reads that lovely little page of content warnings- mainly kinks- listed by the author at the beginning of the book.

Your face burns as he hums and casually places it in your hand.

“Here’s your book.”

“It’s not mine,” You blurt quickly.

“Oh? Did you want a different one?”

You clutch it to your chest.

“N-No! I-I’m buying it… for my friend. I don’t read this stuff.”

“Oh, I see,” There is a troublesome little glint in his eye, “That’s a shame. That author is quite popular. Maybe you should give it a try?”

You squirm under his playful gaze. You wish you could just melt into the bookcase to escape this conversation.

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

“It’s not… realistic…”

His eyebrows quirk but he looks satisfied with your answer. Felix interrupts the tense moment as he begins leaving the bookstore with Hyunjin.

“Hey, Chan, I’m taking my break now. You got an eye on the cash?”

“Yeah, mate, you’re good. I’ll see ya in a bit.”

Hyunjin gives you an excited wave, which you return shyly, as Felix adds:

“Oh, y/n, I put a book aside for you. It’s behind the counter. Chan, her name is on it.”

“Alright.”

“Thank you,” You murmur.

The doorbell chimes as the door falls shut behind them, and you are left alone with Chan. He kicks up the stepstool and catches it one hand.

“Well, y/n,” He coos in his lovely accent, “I’ll be at the cash if you need anything. Give me a shout if you have any questions, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah, sure.”

He winks and walks behind the counter, settling in and opening the book he pulled from the shelf. You stall for a bit, then steel your nerves and approach the checkout. Chan sets his book aside and smiles as you set yours on the counter. He finds the book Felix set aside for you, and it is the exact same book you pulled from the shelf.

The road to Hell is truly paved with good intentions.

Chan pauses then coyly asks, “I guess you don’t want two of these, hm?”

You puff your cheeks.

“No.”

He chuckles and begins ringing up your purchase.

“Okay, I won’t tease you anymore. You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know?”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

He side-eyes you playfully.

“Alright. Are you paying with cash or card?”

“Cash.”

You quickly pull the bill from your pocket and hand it to Chan. You are both quiet as he makes your change then hands it back to you. You count it then furrow your brow gently.

“Something wrong?”

“Um, it seems… You gave me extra.”

He checks the receipt then looks at your hand as you hold it out to him.

“No, it’s right.”

“You gave me a discount?”

You drop the change in your pocket and accept the book and receipt as he hands them to you.

“Of course. Pretty girls shouldn’t have to pay full price.”

You fluster.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to tease me anymore?”

He rests his chin in his hand and leans his elbows on the counter with a smirk.

“That wasn’t teasing. That was flirting.”

You clutch the book to your chest and duck your blushing face.

“Well…”

He giggles and the charming sound startles you to look up again.

“Sorry. I’ll stop.”

“I-It’s okay.”

“Hm?”

“Uh, you don’t have to stop.”

Chan smiles warmly.

“Only if you like it.”

“I, um, I do.”

“Okay then. Well, I hope your friend likes the book.”

“It’s almost worse when you pretend you don’t know…”

“Well, for the record, I believed you a little bit.”

“Sure.”

“I did,” He purrs, “And I would agree with you. I tried to read those books but they weren’t really my thing.”

“You did?”

“Mhm, like you said: it wasn’t realistic. If you’d like an example of something more realistic though, I’d be happy to show you.”

You roll your eyes as a grin breaks out on his face. Although he delivered the line with confidence, his whole face is flushed like yours.

“I’ll keep that in mind…”

Chan winks as you walk away.

“Have a good day!”

You rush out of the bookstore and pause outside as you notice something sticking out of the book you just purchased. You flip it open to see a scrap of paper with a phone number written on it. You look through the window of the bookstore to see Chan, giving you a fluttery wave as you piece it all together. You huff and cover your face as you stomp away, but you cannot suppress your charmed smile.

[divinexmight]

Home, sweet home

Wrote this fluffy little #BkDk fic for my precious friend, @Blu3Dragonfruit, who finished her exams a while ago and got ✨perfect✨ scores on all of them!! I’m so proud, yall 😭

CW:// Fluff, mostly SFW but implied NSFW, kissing

---

"--HA! I WIN!!" Izuku gasps, startled by his Kacchan's sudden bark. The screw he was lining up with the bedpost fumbles through his fingers and falls into the pile of other screws at his feet.

Sunlight floods the bedroom, bathing a pile of moving boxes, a half-assembled bed frame, and a now (victoriously) completed bookshelf in an aura of soft golden light.

A sigh falls from Izuku’s nose as his head drops forward; emerald curls dance as he shakes his head. He crouches, a small smile betrays his exasperation; annoyance and affection colliding in this delightful moment of domesticity. A moment they have both fought, both personally and professionally, to achieve.

Izuku knew full well what he was getting himself into when he fell in love with the hyper-competitive Pomeranian of a man.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but it’s not a contest, Kacchan. We have one day to set up as much of this place as we can before we are busy for 6 days straight.” Izuku sighs with a hint of amusement; sifting his fingers through the carpet, scavenging for the fallen screw. 

His boyfriend scoffs, the smug triumph in his voice rich as chocolate and dripping with arrogance. “Bet ur ass it wasn’t..”

Izuku side-eyes his symbol of victory, standing tall, arms crossed over his chest that’s puffed out like a strutting peacock. A pompous grin adorns the blonde's supple lips and ruby red eyes strike a fiery orange under the sun's glow.

He really is a devilishly handsome man, a fierce Adonis made even more enchanting in the gentle light.

"-'cause you never stood a chance, Nerd." his Kacchan victorious laughter fills the small room. Izuku smashes his lips together, pushing away the sassy comeback that springs into his mind. Instead, he focuses his attention back onto the bed frame- though his features twist into a knowing smirk. 

Izuku didn’t use to be like this. 

Over time, his childhood best friend turned boyfriend’s behavior has upgraded from bullying to insufferable teasing. Before, Izuku would never think of retorting. He would just take it on the chin, knowing his Kacchan had the best intentions.

However, now that the beast has been domesticated, getting on his Kacchan’s bad side has gone from scary

-to exciting.

Every drawing of his Kacchan’s ire a dangerous little game. How bratty can he get before he catches those hot, explosive hands on his thighs, wrists

-around his neck.

Izuku teeters on the edge of danger, the taunt balanced on the tip of his tongue as his Kacchan cackles in the background. 

He knows he shouldn't say it.

Izuku has been slowly climbing the ladder since he defeated All for One and saved Shigaraki. After graduation, he was #1 hero within a matter of days. In the years following, his Kacchan has fought for the #2 spot with their dear friend, Shoto.

Shoto and Izuku stopped caring once they discovered the reality of hero culture and the Hero Public Safety Commission.

-but his Kacchan’s ambition remained unquenchable.

It's a sensitive subject with his Kacchan

-And a prompt way to get exploded.

And Izuku, with his mind buzzing and Kacchan's laughter ringing in his ears, was playing with the detonator.

The urge to knock his Kacchan down half a peg boils over; off the tip of his tongue and out his mouth-

“Guess if this whole being a hero thing doesn’t pan out, and you are perpetually stuck in me and Shoto’s shadows, Ka-cchan~*,” Izuku muses, sarcasm dripping from his words. “You can always fall back on being Japan’s number one IKEA furniture assembler.”

The laughter abruptly cuts off.

Ominous silence- other than the soft breeze drifting in through the window past slowly twirling curtains.

A foot falls towards him.

Izuku cannot help the amused, wry smile that creeps wide across his face. He doesn’t even need to look, his Kacchan’s quiet fury like a roaring furnace looming ever closer.

Another.

The air becomes thick with his Kacchan’s presence. The familiar pop and snap of Nitroglycerin igniting sends a shiver down Izuku’s spine- wait.

/ahh no! The bed!/

His Kacchan’s rage is undiscerning and widespread. The hapless wooden frame surely wouldn’t survive. 

Unless he wanted to sleep on a couch for the next week, Izuku needed to douse the approaching roaring furnace before it blew up in his face, literally.

"Ah hah, Kacchan~*! I'm so slow! S-since you /won/ and finished the bookshelf first, why don't you start putting our p-pictures and stuff up?!"

Yet another foot falls; the snap of sparks now tickling the shell of his ear- 

"-y-you know, because the s-sooner I get this bed up-! The sooner you can break it, and me~*, in, Kacchan..." Izuku holds his breath, waiting for the explosive reaction.

Instead, a low "mmm" from the blonde's throat confirms he'll forget the comment for now. His hand and intensity retreats towards the stack of moving boxes near the window.

Nothing pacifies the Murder God like the promise of playtime

-but he knows he’ll pay for that later.

The room lapses into silence as his Kacchan looks through framed newspaper clippings, advertisements, and various hero achievements. As Izuku steps back to admire his handiwork on the bed frame, a pang of guilt gnaws at Izuku’s heart.

“I'm sorry, Kacchan” Izuku breaks the silence. “The hero comment..that was..uncalled for. I shouldn’t have said it.”

Without missing a beat, his Kacchan grumbles, “If you’re gonna talk shit, /Deku/, own it,” adding under his breath, “like I’m gonna own yur ass later”

Yea, he’s definitely paying for that later.

Izuku’s hearty laugh echoes through the room over his Kacchan’s quieter chuckle. Izuku finishes putting the sheets on the bed, playfully wiggling his shorts-clad thicc peach knowing full well his boyfriend’s delicious predatory gaze was still fixated on him. 

His Kacchan must be rubbing off on him. Izuku loves teasing his Kacchan. Loves capturing his gaze; holding his attention. He had no idea how good that hot carmine stare would feel over his flesh until they got together and he couldn't shake it.

The domineering voice that matches his favorite carmine stare interrupts the warm caress of Izuku’s thoughts. "This all that goes on this shelf?..We don't have any other pictures?" His Kacchan's brows furrow in confusion, a framed news article in his hand.

"Yea Kacchan, just that box." Izuku says without diverting his attention. Just the pillowcases and then he’ll be done with the bed. He's fluffing a pillow when he feels his Kacchan's presence behind him.

A powerful arm wraps around his midsection and snakes up his torso to his neck; a strong, but controlled, hot grip wrapping around his throat.

And in an instant, before he can even think

-his body surrenders on its own.

Izuku’s mind goes completely blank as his head lulls back into bulky shoulders. His eyes close to make his other senses sharper. 

A buttery, cinnamon sweet musk envelops his nose, reminding him of the safety and submission; pain and pleasure that come along with it. 

Izuku drapes his body along his Kacchan’s front, his back molding to fit his Kacchan’s adonis-like form. The saccharine promise of intoxicating, maddening, euphoric fullness.

Soft lips bury themselves into Izuku’s wild curls; his Kacchan’s gravelly voice whispering that familiar vow-

“I love you ‘Zuzu. Smile for me, Angel”

While Izuku called his Kacchan “Kacchan” almost exclusively, “Angel” was a name that Izuku only heard when they were alone. 

When it was safe. 

When his Kacchan felt safe to show a side of himself that only Izuku was privy to. 

A gentle, pure smile spread wide on Izuku’s face.

This is heaven. If they didn’t have an entire apartment to set up and only one day to do it, Izuku would probably already be on his knees for his Kacchan.

“I need to go out for something, ‘Zuzu. I’ll be back soon.” His Kacchan pulls back, releasing Izuku from his warm embrace and dropping his mind back into reality.

“Out? W-wait, where are you going?” Izuku blinks his eyes, trying to turn his brain all the way back on as he follows his Kacchan out the bedroom towards the front door.

“I won’t be long.” The blonde grabs his keys off the kitchen counter and slips on some loafers. 

“T-that’s not what I asked, Kacchan. How long is /long/?! And where-” Izuku doesn’t even get to finish before Kacchan is mostly through the front door.

“I said I’ll be back!” The door slams.

-and he’s gone.

An annoyed pout forms, scrunched up to one side of Izuku’s face- but quickly fades. Izuku cocks his head to one side and shrugs. He heads back to the bedroom. Might as well start on the nightstands.

His Kacchan knows how much they have left to do, so he’s sure whatever he ran out for must be important and quick. 

~*~

All For One better have resurrected. 

Godzilla better be real. 

The Earth /itself/ better be falling into a black hole.

In fact, all three of those scenarios better be happening simultaneously, or Katsuki is sleeping on the comfy new sectional couch for the foreseeable future.

The comfy new sectional that Izuku had to set up /by himself/.

Izuku sits on the edge of the now organized kitchen counter facing the front door. Legs crossed, arms crossed, and not amused in the slightest. 

By the first hour, Izuku had finished up the bedroom. Even organizing the closest, hanging all of their clothes up and folding the garments that needed to go in the dresser. He then got the bathroom all situated so their morning routine wouldn’t hit any snags. 

By the second hour, Izuku had tried to call Katsuki but noticed a ringing coming from the victorious bookshelf. Slightly annoyed, he moved into the livingroom to get the dining area and TV set up so they could watch a movie or something with dinner tonight. He saved the couch for last, since he thought Katsuki might have wanted  input on where it went.

Not that Izuku gave a crap about what Katsuki wanted at this point.

As he sat and stared a hole into the front door, Blackwhip took dishes and other kitchen items out of their boxes and put them away. It wasn’t that he needed Katsuki. Using his quirks, Izuku could do multiple tasks at once with ease. 

But this was a big step for them, moving in together. And they were supposed to do it together…

Izuku clicks his tongue, watching as the clock that /he/ put up /by himself/ chimes to signal the passing of another hour.

Three hours.

-and as if on queue, a key turns in the deadbolt of the front door. 

Katsuki startles seeing Izuku sitting right there as he stumbles and huffs into the entryway. Bags in the crooks of both elbows and chest heaving from running.

“Enjoy your day out, Kat-su-ki?” Izuku quips, his voice as cold as ice.

Katsuki stiffens and swallows at the sound of his government name rolling off Izuku’s tongue. 

“Izu, I didn’t mean to-- I brought din-” Katsuki starts to hold up the bag in his right arm.

Izuku cuts him off. "What? You didn't mean tooo..?? Leave me here all day to do- whatever!?”

Katsuki’s eyes scan the decorated and clean apartment. The blonde smiles timidly,“It looks great..”

Izuku’s fists and teeth clench. Bright red veins and gashes come to life and flicker in his flesh as green lighting snaps and whips around him. 

He takes a single step towards Katsuki; the blonde mouthing a curse as his back hits the wall behind him.

Emerald curls float before Izuku gets a hold of himself. 

/You love this man, Izuku. Maybe not right now- or tomorrow- or next week, but you love him. Don’t smash him./

Izuku breaths in and out; One For All subsides and his curls settle.

"Uh, w-what I meant to say was- it- I'm sorry. I should've been here and-" Katsuki's voice wobbles as he tries to rectify his poor choice of words.

"Na, don't worry about it. Here-" Izuku purrs. He gets out a plate, a bowl, and a cup and shoves them into his somber boyfriend's arms. "-/You/ can go enjoy that at the table that /I/ set up. /By myself/. I'm going to go take a shower in the bathroom I organized. /By myself/." 

Izuku spins on his heels and storms into their bedroom. "Feel free to watch TV tho, Kacchan. I set that up /by myself/ too!" He shouts while throwing his shorts and shirt off before stepping into the modest bathroom. 

He passes the sink area before stepping into the shower and tub area. 

A large tub sits to the right in the shower area under an obscure glass window; a potted plant adorning the window seal.

In front of him, a small stool sits in front of a ledge with some toiletries on either side. Katsuki's on and left, Izuku's on the right. A shower head hangs next to a wall mirror above the small ledge.

Izuku plops down on the stool. He props himself on his elbows and rakes his fingers through his hair.

He hates being mad.

Izuku is about to turn on the shower when he feels that heat again. That familiar presence.

Izuku floats up and turns towards the door. His displeased scowl a full head above repentant scarlet eyes.

"Ouuut" Izuku whispers, motioning towards the door Katsuki just walked through.

"Izu, I'm sorry- mmm, what can I do? How do I fix this?" Katsuki desperately tries to maintain eye contact- prompting a devilish smirk from Izuku.

He takes great pleasure knowing that the blonde, despite them being in the midst of a fight, is struggling to keep his eyes from drifting below Izuku's bare waist.

Izuku pretends to ponder Katsuki's question for a minute before snapping his fingers in a faux realization.

"There is one thing, Katsuki.." Izuku gets real close, their noses almost brushing. The blonde having to grab onto his pants to stop himself from pulling him closer makes Izuku giggle. "/You/ can try out that lovely sectional you choose, tonight." Izuku says.

"Oh my /God/, Izuku! Come on!" Katsuki groans. Exasperated, he rolls his eyes, turns on his heels, and accepts his fate.

"Don't worry, Katsuki. It's super comfortable! I would know. I took a break on it after I put it together. /By myself/." Izuku watches as the normally cocky and smug hero mopes out of the bathroom. 

As Izuku turns the shower on, he hears Katsuki putting something on the bookshelf. "Oh look who's helping." Izuku mutters. The scoff from their bedroom letting Izuku know his message was heard loud and clear.

~*~

  Izuku steps into their moonlit bedroom and drops his towel. He sulks at the neatly made, and completely empty, bed.

Katsuki should be in it with him..

"What was so da-, what was so important that he had to leave for three hours?!" Izuku plops down in the bed while mumbling to one in particular.

Seriously though, Katsuki knew how important this was to him. Izuku wanted their apartment to be a cozy place they could come home to and part of that is it not looking like a storage unit. 

While he got a lot of it done on his own and there honestly wasn't much left to do, they could have had it all done if Katsuki stayed. 

They also could have done it together..as a couple. 

Choosing how the living room is set up together, deciding which side of the closet they want, or talking about breakfast options for the next day while they organize their kitchen. All those little moments

-they mean something to him.

Izuku knows Katsuki probably doesn't care about them at all but..for him to just disregard his feelings..

Izuku throws his back; blinking his eyes and regulating his breathing. Trying desperately to hold back tears. 

Their relationship needs a lot of work.

A glint of red catches Izuku's eye from across the room. For a second, Izuku thinks Katsuki was standing there the whole time. 

But it's just a picture frame- placed prominently on the victorious bookshelf. 

Izuku puts on his bathrobe and walks over to the shelf. He's never bought a red picture frame…

Dead center on the middle shelf, an ornate ruby frame catches the pearlescent moonlight. It's flanked on both sides by Izuku's numerous old hero notebooks. 

And there, on the right, all together sharing a frame, Katsuki's bloodstained All Might card, Izuku's flawless one, and a picture of them hugging as children. 

Izuku looks down to the base of the bookshelf- all their framed newspaper clippings and agency photos still piled on top of one another in a box. 

/Why would he only put 3 things up?/

He picks up the unfamiliar red frame and examines it..! Verdant eyes go wide and start to well as realization washes over him.

Displayed behind the new glass was a photo of the couple. His Kacchan; eyes closed; face buried in his green curls while his strong, venous hand clasps around Izuku's throat. 

And Izuku, leaned back onto his Kacchan's shoulder. Lips parted in a soft smile. Nothing but blissful vulnerability on his face. 

"He was taking a picture..!" Izuku leans in close- an imprint of a kiss on the glass right above his face.

Lip trembling, Izuku rushes out of the bedroom and into the living room where his Kacchan is eating his Katsudon alone. 

Izuku, clutching the picture to his chest, stops halfway to his Kacchan, unsure of his mood.

"Kacchan?" Izuku sees his Kacchan's shoulders drop, head lulls back slightly, and air re-enter his lungs upon hearing his childhood nickname. 

Izuku notes never to stop using it again.

"Kacchan, did you take this today?" Izuku turns the phone around to show him.

"Yea." his Kacchan stuffs more Katsudon into his mouth. "You should come eat something."

Izuku joins him on the couch. He starts to reach for the bag of take out but his Kacchan beats him to it and places it in front of him. 

"It's so nice..I didn't know." Izuku takes a big mouthful of Katsudon, not realizing how hungry he was.

"I know." his Kacchan takes a napkin and wipes the rice from his freckled and full cheeks.

"Is thus wha u wen out today?" Izuku says through stuffed cheeks, unable to pull himself away from his food.

His Kacchan sighs. "Yea- and I'm- I should have- I-I just wanted a picture that wasn't a press release or a brand deal or a photoshoot! We didn't have one. You said you wanted a.."cozy home" and all that work shit ain't cozy so I took one. Have to see that shit all day out /there/." His Kacchan motions out the window to the bright, bustling city. "Here, it should just be you. Us. No heroes. No villains, no agency…and it took longer than I thought..and it could 'ave waited till ta'morrow so,..sorry."

Izuku sets the picture and his empty takeout dish down and throws his arms around his Kacchan, burying his tear-dampened face into the crook of the blonde's neck.

"I'm so sorry Kacchan! Im so stupid!" Izuku sobs.

His Kacchan separates them and holds Izuku's face in his hands, confused- and amazed at how he took his mistake and turned it back on himself. "Izu-"

"I was so concerned about setting up the apartment and /my/ idea of a nice memory with you that I completely missed…our first non-work picture together..I would have gone with you, Kacchan! Why didn't you tell me?" 

"..I don't know.."

He knows. They both do.

Feelings and words have never been the blonde's strong suit.

"I should have…" Izuku leaps back around his Kacchan's neck, surprising his relieved boyfriend.

Izuku cringes into his Kacchan's shoulder, his prior behavior flashing through his mind. "I'm kind of a sassy brat when I'm mad huh?"

Strong arms flop Izuku back on the couch cushions; his curls framing his soft, round face. 

Two strong arms and carmine pools pin Izuku against the fabric sofa. His Kacchan lowers himself to his forearms; his soft lips brushing over Izuku's chapped ones. "Hah, I kinda like it." 

"What?!" Izuku Laughs. 

The blonde leans down low, humid breath filling the shell of Izuku's ear. "Makes me wanna tame you…" His Kacchan growls, angling his chin forward to plant a deep kiss on his lover.

Their lips caress in a passionate embrace. Lips part; soft gasps escaping their entangled mouths. Tongues dancing, deepening the tender kiss. Each moan and nibble an apology given or accepted.

But then, with a hypnotic allure, his Kacchan slowly withdraws, teasingly sucking on Izuku's top lip, a velvet caress that stirs a heat low and deep in Izuku's groin. Their connection preserved by a sloppy string of desire as they part.

Scarlet and emerald lock, sparkling with a mix of intensity and vulnerability, silently conveying a craving that words can never fully express.

In that moment, they exist in a realm of shared secrets, where the world fades away and only their connection remains—a connection fueled by the heady blend of trust and longing, forever binding their hearts.

Home.

"Wanna go to bed?" Izuku purrs.

His Kacchan cocks his head and an eyebrow, "I don't know, Angel. This couch is pretty comfortable and-" his Kacchan leans in close, planting kisses and nipples on Izuku's jaw; eliciting giggles from him. "-it was picked out by /the/ #1 IKEA furniture assembler in /all/ of Japan."

Izuku giggles; arching his back and running his fingers through blonde spikes that are trailing kisses lower and lower down his chest. 

As his Kacchan's lips linger around the waist they weren't allowed to touch earlier, Izuku gazes upon the photo. 

A low moan slips past his lips when his Kacchan reaches more sensitive flesh. He can't believe he forgot that home isn't where it's cozy or even where their pictures are.

Home is wherever his loving blonde pomeranian is.

{The End}

Thank you so much for reading! I know it was a long one 😅 If you liked it, give me a follow over on Twitter @Divine_Might ! I post over there more offten! :D

[blu-joons]

When He Uses An Insecurity Of Yours In An Argument ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

Your eyes immediately shot across at Jin as you realised what he had said, feeling your heart pound with frustration before he even finished his sentence.

“Not all of us enjoy being the centre of attention,” you warned him in reply.

Jin shot a glare back across at you too, “where did that come from?” He asked you, “I only mentioned that you were quiet tonight, and you say that to me.”

“I’m sorry that I don’t shout when we’re around your friends,” you told him, “it’s alright for you when you enjoy all eyes being on you, but I don’t like that.”

“Y/N, I don’t have a problem with you being quiet, I was worried.”

Your eyes looked away from Jin, “you know that my shyness is something that I hate Jin.”

“I would never tease you for it,” he promised, trying to get your eyes back to look at him, “I just wanted to make sure you were alright because you were silent.”

Your eyes eventually glanced across to look at him, “if you’re going to say something like that, don’t be so serious with it, you worry me that I’m doing something wrong like that.”

“You did nothing wrong,” he smiled back at you, “just as long as you were alright there tonight?”

“I was fine, it was good fun.”

Yoongi:

Your head shook in disbelief as Yoongi spoke, unable to quite believe what you had come from him as you were trying to catch up with him whilst on tour.

“I can just go,” you reminded him, “if this is how things are going to be today.”

Yoongi’s head shook as he realised just how serious you were, “I shouldn’t have mocked you; I was just being stupid, I didn’t really realise what I was saying to you.”

“I was calling to see how you are, not to be ridiculed,” you snapped, struggling to look past what Yoongi had said, “I’ve got better things to do then be insulted.”

“I promise I won’t say anything about it again, let’s just move on.”

Your head slowly nodded, “are you sure that you’re going to be able to bite your tongue?”

“Y/N,” he frowned, frustrated even though he knew you had a point, “I suppose I’m just trying to deflect from the fact that I’m missing you, by joking around.”

You continued to nod, slightly understanding where Yoongi was coming from. “If you miss me, tell me you miss me, because insulting me doesn’t show me that you miss me.”

“I know,” he assured you, “I need to be more careful with how I express my emotions with you.”

“You’re right, you really do Yoongi.”

Hoseok:

You glanced helplessly across at Hobi as you tried to place the box back on the shelf, unable to quite tip it up high enough to be able to get it up on there.

“Can you help?” You questioned, breaking the tension between you both.

Hobi glanced around to look at you, “so now you want my help because you’re too small to reach? Why don’t you just jump, do it yourself instead of rely on me?”

“I can’t help how tall I am,” you quickly reminded him, “you could just offer to help rather than deciding to carry things on and insult me a little bit more.”

“Why would I offer to help? Why don’t you just grow a little?”

Your head shook back at him, “why do you have to try and make things ten times worse?”

“Move out of the way then,” Hobi sighed, placing the box up on the shelf with ease, “maybe I’ll have to invest in a ladder for you or something so you can stop relying on me.”

You quickly moved away from him once the box was up, “thank you so much for being understanding Hobi, it means a lot that you’re so worried about me.”

“Y/N,” he sighed, but you had already began walking away, “you can’t just walk away from this.”

“Just watch me do that Hobi.”

Namjoon:

Your head shook as you felt the bed dip beside you, refusing to budge as you knew that it could only be Namjoon who had entered the room to check on you.

“I want to be alone,” you spat, but Namjoon refused to move away from you.

His hand rested gently down against your waist, “I’m not going anywhere, I came to say sorry, you can’t stay hiding up here all-night Y/N, it’s not good for you.”

“I don’t want to irritate you by talking all night downstairs,” you retorted in reply, “you either want me to talk to you or you don’t, can’t you make up your mind?”

“I didn’t mean to tell you to be quiet, I do want to talk to you Y/N.”

You scoffed under your breath, “you’ve got a real funny way of showing that these days Namjoon.”

“Look, I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I know that,” Namjoon spoke, “but I don’t want us to carry this on, I really am sorry for what I said to you Y/N.”

You slowly rolled around so that you were facing Namjoon, “you usually do this after a day at work, but I’m not going to keep being the one you take your frustration out on Joon.”

“I know, and I really am sorry.”

Jimin:

You immediately froze as you heard Jimin speak, staking a step away from him as soon as you realised what Jimin had said, knowing that he had realised too.

“Go away,” you spoke as soon as he tried to take a step closer to you again.

His head nodded, turning his eyes away to look down at the ground. “I didn’t mean to say what I said,” he spoke, “I was just angry and decided to lash out at you.”

“The one thing I’ve always told you not to say,” you reminded him, shaking your head, “what did you think I would do? Is this the sort of reaction that you wanted?”

“I mean it when I say that I wasn’t thinking, I can’t say sorry enough.”

Your head continued to shake, “I think I’m going to go; this isn’t where I should be right now.”

“I know that you’re mad at me, but just tell me where you’re going to go?” Jimin asked, “I hurt you, but I care about you, especially when you’re leaving angry.”

You took several steps further away from Jimin, “I’m going home to somewhere comfortable, a place where someone doesn’t make me feel bad for something I hate about myself.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Jimin defended, but you walked away anything, “be careful on your way home.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”

Taehyung:

You jumped back as you dropped the bag of shopping on the floor, watching as several of the items spilled around you whilst Taehyung walked in behind you.

“Watch out,” you called as Taehyung walked into the kitchen to see the mess you made.

His head shook as you scrambled to pick everything up, “honestly, I have never met someone as clumsy as you Y/N, you really do know how to make a mess.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you frowned, feeling your heart sink as you placed the items on the kitchen top, “it’s hardly as if I meant to drop all of this on the floor.”

“You never mean to be clumsy, but you are, it’s crazy.”

You began to walk towards the door, “I’ll leave you to it so that you don’t make a mess then.”

“Y/N,” he called out, sensing that his comment had upset you, “I was only joking about how clumsy you were, I didn’t mean to upset you at all.”

You spun on your heels to look back at him, “I try my hardest not to be clumsy Taehyung, I would appreciate if you weren’t so hard on me for when I have my moments sometimes.”

“You’re right,” he smiled, “I should have helped you rather than mock you about it instead.”

“I’m trying, you can do the same.”

Jungkook:

A loud scoff came from you as Jungkook ripped you over the fact that you had failed to get yet another question wrong on the quiz show you were watching.

“It must be hard dating someone so dumb,” you spoke up, using his words against him.

Jungkook’s eyes widened as he realised that you had heard what he had said, “Y/N, you’ve got to admit that that was a really easy question to answer, come on.”

“You know that I’m not good with stuff like that,” you snapped back at him, “how often do you insult my intelligence by muttering underneath your breath?”

“It was only a one-time thing, I just thought you weren’t listening.”

You shot yet another glare across at him, “if you think I’m dumb, then why are you here?”

“I don’t think you’re dumb, it was a stupid thing to say,” he tried to assure you, “I wasn’t thinking at all I just reacted to your answer in the wrong way.”

Your head shook back across at him, “I think I’ll just keep quiet for the rest of the programme; I don’t want to give you even more of a reason to make me feel bad about myself.”

“Don’t say that,” Jungkook requested, “I really don’t think you’re stupid at all Y/N, honestly.”

“I want to believe you, but I can’t.”

---

Masterlist

[beskarberry]

Blue Orchid

Flowers for Ishtar, Chapter 1

(Nonhuman!Mando x f!Reader) [+18!]

You’d had to bite down on the corner of your blanket when you thought of him pinning you to the wall or bending you over the dashboard, stuffing you full of his length while he groaned his praises in your ears until you were soaked.

This was not at all what you had imagined.

Next->

Summary: You discover your hunting partner isn't human, which in a galaxy far, far away isn't that strange until his alien needs become too much for him to hide.

Rating: Explicit as FUCK

Word count: 9.2k

Content warnings: Major kinks: breeding and pregnancy, eggs and oviposition, mpreg/fpreg, alien genitalia. Minor kinks: praise, eating and weight gain. Kink sprinkles: threw some things in like just a tad of sex pollen, hair pulling, spanking, a very brief daddy kink, the idea of a/b/o. There's a few more but if you're familiar with my writing you know what's up. Negatives: body horror, dysphoria.

A/N: Yeah... um... hm... So this is some weird shit but if you enjoyed Garden of Ishtar this will be right up your alley. If that was weird and creepy for you then this is not for you! You have been warned!!!

There’s something strange going on with your partner.

Mando, as he insisted on being called, even though that was clearly not his real name, had been acting differently recently. Though he was an odd one from the get-go, the burly, short-tempered, efficient hunter took some getting used to, but now something about him was off.

It was a strange partnership you’d gotten yourself into, ever since that day you had been sitting in the same cantina booth as him on Nevarro, arguing with Karga over the last available bounty puck.

“Karga, I’m not splitting a puck with this guy.” You’d barked, crossing your arms and leaning back with a huff. Next to you, the armored stranger grunted in agitated agreement, his plated shoulders catching the light as they stiffened. You didn’t know each other, and as far as you could tell the only thing you both had in common was that you both worked for the Guild.

“Well that’s too bad!” The old agent stated, shaking his head. “This is the last one I’ve got until next month, so unless one of you wants to wait until then, this is all I have left. You're going to have to work together as a team.”

“Unless I kill her first.” The iron giant said coldly, not even looking your way.

“I’d like to see you try.” A knife flew from your belt to the table as you buried the tip of it in the faux wood counter, glaring daggers with your eyes at his shiny metal head.

“Easy now, we’re all friends here! Can’t have my two best hunters fighting, or killing each other…”

“Bullshit, I’m the best hunter here, Kargsy, and you know it.” Fury seethed from your words, but it was seemingly lost on the other man. “Tinman here can go fuck himself.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“No, but I fuck yours with it!”

Greef slammed a fist down on the table, making the trio of spotchka glasses bounce and spill. “That’s enough, either you two figure out how to play nice or neither of you will be getting this puck, or any other pucks for that matter! And that’s final!”

That was six months ago.

Despite your differences, the pair of you made for a terrifying duo, between his heavily armored body and your quick, nimble blades, it was like hell itself had released its most deadly demons. The bounty was found, hunted, and captured so quickly and easily that the minute the Razor Crest touched back down on Nevarro you were both excitedly harassing Karga for more.

Your newfound companion didn’t talk much, but what he didn’t say with his words he made up for with his actions. He gave you a little backstory, filling you in on his Mandalorian heritage and what that meant regarding his helmet and armor, and you were fine with the condition that he would never show his face around you. What he did show you was how lethal he could be, a whirlwind of blasters and beskar, an immovable object that coupled neatly with your unstoppable force.

It was poetry in motion.

Bounties fell at your feet like wheat before the scythe, wracking up credits like Kessel-running smugglers which you both blew on firearms and vibroblades as if the galaxy was ending tomorrow. What didn’t go towards guns and ammo went towards food and fuel, the Crest blasting off of Nevarro again and again and again.

As time went on, you slowly started to warm up to each other. You couldn’t really say you were friends, just work partners that happened to be flawlessly efficient at what they did. It was a fine arrangement, but over time small, but significant changes between you started to catch your attention.

You’d pinned a bounty, a large, malodorous Twi’lek that nearly squirmed out from your grasp, only to earn themselves a vicious cold-clocking to the back of their tentacled skull. Breath heavy and eyes burning with aggression, you’d slogged the captive into the carbonite freezer like you were taking out the trash, your wanton strength not going unnoticed by your companion.

“Good job.” Mando had said with a tilt of his helmet, watching your chest heave with adrenaline. “Such a strong verd’ika, can’t wait to see what you do to the next guy.” He’d never complimented you up to that point, if he spoke to you at all. It’d caught you off guard, but in a good way, and you knew right then you wanted to hear him say it again.

So you kept doing a good job.

And you did it on purpose.

The next bounty you held in place while Mando punched their lights out, holding steadfast against the living sledgehammer that was your partner, wincing every time you felt his fists explode against the Aqualish’s exoskeleton. When they’d keeled over, you let them fall to the floor, jumping slightly when Mando patted your shoulder, impressed with your ability to hold your own.

He seemed kind, when he wasn’t retaliating against your snide remarks or beating the living shit out of a bounty. Often when it was just the two of you he was almost soft spoken, asking you if you got enough to eat or if your wounds needed tending to, but not once did he ever make a pass at you.

That was somewhat of a surprise, but you didn’t even know what species he was, so there was a good chance you weren’t even on his sexual radar. He looked human, he obviously wasn’t a Togruta or a Twi’ with that helmet, and he was too tall to be a Rodian or Ugnaught. Too broad to be Gungan.

He was humanly proportioned to a sinful degree, his wide armored shoulders and cinched waist giving you wicked thoughts in the late hours. Even his fucking voice did something to you, the deep, gravelly husk of it almost reverberated in your chest when he spoke, and more than once you wished it would vibrate for you somewhere else.

But you were just two hunters making a living, nothing more.

Recently, however, something had started to change; and it wasn’t something that you liked. You weren’t buddy-buddy, but in the recent weeks his demeanor had started to wane. Mando was always private, taking his meals alone and keeping the fresher door locked when in use, but even when he wasn’t dealing with the necessary inconveniences of being alive he was starting to avoid you more and more.

At first you let him have his space, it was none of your business what was bothering him if he wasn’t going to speak up about it. But as the weeks seemed to drag on his temper began to flare more often, his sentences getting even shorter than they already were, his words sharp and vindictive.

You let it slide until he was rude to a merchant in a Bespin market, demanding more food rations than what he was being offered. Mando had left the market with so much dried meat and canned vegetables that it was falling out of his satchel, leaving a breadcrumb trail of bantha-in-a-can as he stormed back to the ship.

He was eating more often, too, squirreling himself away from your campfires or tucking himself up in either his sleeping cubby or the cockpit; whichever was further away from you at the time. You had your own space in the upstairs part of the Crest where he’d strung a ramshackle hammock for you, but it was so close to her reactors that you frequently woke up sweaty whenever you were in hyperspace.

On one such occasion you decided to sneak over to the ladder hatch when he thought you were sleeping, carefully peeking into the hold below. You could see him in his alcove, but just barely, only his back visible to you from your vantage point. He was eating, a lot. You watched his back and shoulders heave with each desperate bite of food, gorging himself as if he’d been lost in the desert for weeks.

The next cycle he kept his back to you almost constantly, like he was trying to hide something from view, but there were very little private spaces in the ship, especially while the stars streaked by overhead. Try as he might, he couldn’t hide his secret from your prying eyes, though you weren’t surprised with what you saw after watching him eat like there was no tomorrow.

He was gaining weight.

It was just a little at first, maybe just an illusion brought on by some extra layers of clothing; hyperspace was chilly, after all. However it soon became obvious as his extra warmth began to pudge over his belt and upset his armor that it wasn’t all fluff. You checked the larder after he went up to the cockpit to work on the navigation, and you were alarmed to find that almost half of your rations were already used up after having left Bespin only three cycles ago.

Something was definitely up with your partner.

You were watching him now from where you sat on one of the supply crates, toying with a vibroblade while he rigorously cleaned a plate of his armor, his back turned to you. His beskar was spotless, nary a drop of blood or spec of dust remained. He was just trying to distract himself from his newfound curves, but you were starting to get frustrated.

It was time to get to the bottom of this.

“Hey, are you feeling alright? You’ve been acting-”

“I’m fine.” he barked, the aggression behind his words making you jump. You weren’t afraid of him, or he of you. Your partnership was mutually beneficial and respected, and it wasn’t like him to be so short with you in close quarters. You weren’t having any of it.

“That’s crap and you know it, something's up with you, I can tell. You wanna talk about it?” Though he wasn’t looking your way, you cast your eyes at his pudge muffin, hoping he would catch your implications without you having to put it into words.

He said nothing, instead he rose from his seat and hurried up the ladder to the flight deck, sealing the airlock behind him.

You didn’t see him again until the ship dropped from hyperspace.

It was a quiet couple of days, and fucking boring too. Mando didn’t even come down to use the fresher or grab food, which made you nervous after seeing him stress eating like he had been. The Crest touched down on Jedha not far from an enormous crater that the Empire had put there in its heyday, but even when the engines went quiet, the blast door remained sealed.

“Mando? You still alive in there?” You asked tentatively with your ear pressed to the door, rapping your knuckles against the durasteel.

“Fine.”

“Are you coming out?”

There was a long pause, then: “...No.”

You grumbled and donked your head against the door. “Are you gonna make me go get this bounty myself?” He didn’t answer, which unfortunately meant the answer to your question was ‘yes’. You sighed heavily like you’d heard him do innumerable times. “You suck. Do you need anything before I head out?”

“No, thank you verd’ika.”

He was still alive, and talking, so those were both good signs, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with him during your entire hunt. The bail jumper you were after came quietly, which on a regular day would make you angry that you had even wasted fuel for such a lame chase, but you were anxious to get back to your partner.

You marched the delinquent up the ramp and goaded them into the freezer, filling the little cabin with carbonite fog. Though you were making a hell of a racket, you still hollered up the ladder before climbing it, only to find the cockpit empty. Nervously you searched the upper floor, checking everywhere from your hammock to the fuselage, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Jumping down the ladder, you quickly scanned the hold, only to realize that you’d run right past him. The door to his cubby was closed, like it always was even when he wasn’t in it, but outside on the floor near the entrance were piles of empty food tins. Horrified, you checked the larder, your eyes going all the way to the bottom of the crate. He ate everything!

“Mando! I’m back! Open up!” You yelled, pounding your fist on the door, not giving a flying fuck if he was asleep. Something was very, very wrong.

“You’re back already?” He called, his voice weak and hoarse behind the door, making your blood run cold. Oh Maker no, don’t tell me he’s sick.

“Yeah, and I’m worried about you! Open this damn door before I rip it off its rails.”

“You need to leave. You can’t be here.”

“‘Scuse me? Fucker I live here! I’m not-”

“Please, you’re not safe.” He pleaded, his voice sounded broken and desperate, like he was trying to choke something back.

“Not safe? Mando you’re not making any sense, I already took care of the bounty, they-”

“You’re not safe from me!”

A weird mix of emotions flooded through you, first the worry for the health of your partner, the confusion at his panic, and suddenly the rage that burned behind your eyes at the mere notion of him thinking you couldn’t peel him apart like a can of sardines.

You’d had enough.

“Fuck you, chum bucket, this ends right now! Hope you’ve got pants on because I’m coming in!”

“No! Don’t, please!”

“HERE I COME!” You bellowed as you slammed your fist into the glowing button panel on the wall, deaf to his fretful protests. The metal grate rattled as it rolled upwards, and briefly your eyes caught the back of his head right before his helmet sank down over the dark curls that he kept secret. The fact that he even had hair was the least startling thing of all.

What hit you first was the smell.

Inside the sleeping cubby where the Mandalorian was hurriedly scuttling into the deepest reaches, the pungent scent of...something hurtled through your synapses. It didn’t stink, quite the opposite, it smelled delicious. Warm and rich, like honey on fruit sitting out on a beautiful summer day, the alien aroma making your mouth water.

“What the fuck is that smell?” you roared at the man huddled as far away from you as he could get, his body lost to the shadows behind the scattering of armor he had discarded. You didn’t like that one bit, feeling something akin to pity at his doubled-over, armorless frame. You sniffed the air again, taking deep, greedy inhalations and trying to decipher what the fuck was going on. “Are you eating starfruit?! You fuckhole! You’re snacking without me!”

“Please leave me alone.” He grumbled, wedging himself even harder against the back wall. “I’m fine, really, I just want to be alone.”

“Well that’s just too fuckin’ bad, you’re sick, and the least you could do is tell me what’s wrong. I have a right to know if my partner is gonna up and die on me.” He pleaded again, his voice sounding whiny even through his vocorder, but you were having none of it. “I’m coming in.”

“Dammit all, why won't you leave me alone?!” He was yelling now, but in his anger he turned enough towards you that you could see his front, making you gasp.

Big.

“Holy fucking shit, Mando, are you… are you pregnant?!” Hidden by his broad backside no longer, his protruding belly caught the light, jiggling a bit when he wrapped his arms around it.

“No! I mean… sorta…”

“The fuck do you mean sorta?!” you were screaming now, blown away by his swollen guts and the fact that he was very much not pregnant only a few days ago. “What the hell is that then?!”

He was caught now, you’d seen his shame and there was no going back. “They’re… they’re my eggs.”

You stood a moment, staring at him while your mouth flopped uselessly like a dying fish. Welp, there’s your answer, he is not human. There were lots of sentient species in this great big galaxy you called home, many of which produced offspring via eggs, so you weren’t as surprised by that as you were by the suddenness of it. Of... him.

Mando rubbed at his belly, curling in on himself as if doing so would shrink him down into nothingness where he could disappear into oblivion. “Please, it’ll pass, I’ve just… I’ve never had anyone around me while I...grmph... deal with it.”

His groan of pain broke your stare, pumping determination into your legs along with the burn of adrenaline. “Do… do you need help? Is there anything I can do for you?” You leaned forward into the alcove, reaching for him. “Are you in pain?”

“...I-I’m f-fine.” He shirked away from you, avoiding your touch. “Happens every couple of years, just...hmmph… it’s not usually… so much.”

Now you were just plain fascinated, climbing up slowly on your hands and knees, trying to be delicate. “Mando, I’m your partner, I’m not just gonna stand around while you suffer. Tell me what I can do to help.” The warrior flinched hard when your fingers found his shoulder, reflexively protecting his belly. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Cyar’ika, please, I don’t want to...hmmph… do anything that I-I’ll regret.”

“You already ate all our fucking food, what more could you do to piss me off?” You said with a laugh, trying to break the tension. Carefully you brushed your hand along his clothed shoulder, a thin smile dancing over your lips when you felt him shudder.

“You shouldn’t touch me, I’m dangerous.”

“You ain’t shit, and I’ve seen how you’ve stiched my wounds closed, you won’t hurt me. I know you.”

“No you don’t!” He screamed, flipping around all the way to try and shoo you out of the cubby, but his hefty gut kept him rooted in place. You couldn’t help but stare at his rounded middle, his flack coat straining to keep zipped shut as the weight of him wobbled delightfully. It made you laugh.

“Mando! You’re gonna be a m... da... parent! You’re gonna be a parent! Why didn’t you tell me?! I would have baked you a cake.”

“It’s.. it’s never been this bad.” he stuttered, consigning himself to the fact that he was stuck with you. “I grow a clutch every year or so, but it’s usually just a handful of... them.” he hissed with an air of disgust, shame creeping into his voice. “They pass without much issue, but it’s never been this much.”

“What do the other Mandalorians do when this happens?”

He shook his head, guarding his middle. “Mandalorian isn’t a race, it’s a creed. The Mandalorians rescued me after an army of droids killed my parents and everyone else in my village. I… I don’t know what species I am, and neither does my clan. There’s no record of my village, or where they found me, and I can’t find anything on the holonet about… this.” His visor tilted down to his tummy. “I might be the last of my kind.”

“Mando, that's terrible, but I’m sure there’s more of you somewhere. There’s gotta be! Maybe if you took off your helmet I could see-”

“No, helmet stays on. I don’t need to add the indignity of a broken creed to this mess. Now please, mesh’la I’m begging you, lock me in here and let me ride this out alone. I don’t know if I could live with myself if I hurt you.”

You scuttled closer on your knees until you were right up against him, cautiously reaching out towards his swell. His visor snapped at you, his body flinching harder into the corner, but he was trapped. “Why do you think you’ll hurt me?” You whispered as your palm met the straining fabric cradling his shameful secret.

He grabbed your wrist so hard you felt your bones grind from the strength of his grip. “Because…” he growled, the timbre of it so low you felt a shiver run down your spine. “Because I don’t know what I am, but I know I need to put these eggs somewhere, and I want...I need to put them… inside…” He trailed off when a painful contraction shook his body, making him let go of you to hold himself together. “Get out now! It’s starting… please I can handle this alone but if you’re near me… I don’t know what I’ll do!”

“Shut’cher gob and tell me what to do, and don’t tell me to leave because I won’t!” You didn’t know jack shit about human births, let alone alien gestation, but you’d been through some fucked up situations, what’s one more for good measure? “I’m guessing you need to get your pants off.” His breathing was heavy, his helmet tilting with each laboured heave, but he nodded and started to fumble with the zipper of his trousers.

Your heart leapt to your throat. In the darkness of your hammock you’d imagined what it would be like to undress him, taking each of his beskar plates off and trailing your fingers down his tight clothes, revealing the man underneath like unwrapping a gift. With your fingers lost between your legs you’d pictured his muscular shoulders and broad chest, maybe even a trail of dark hair that led you all the way down his beefy abdomen to his thick, heavy cock. You’d had to bite down on the corner of your blanket when you thought of him pinning you to the wall or bending you over the dashboard, stuffing you full of his length while he groaned his praises in your ears until you were soaked.

This was not at all what you had imagined.

His gloves and his girth were giving him a hard time, so diligently you stepped in to help him undress. Your nimble fingers found the button and zipper with ease, the heat of his groin making your cheeks flush rosy pink, and then red when you pulled the zipper across the bulge in his pants and flooded the tiny nook with the perfume of his sex.

The hair surprised you, you didn’t think that an egg-bearing creature would even have curls, but there they were. Dark brown and soft against your fingertips, growing from lovely, sun-bronze skin, but that was the last of his human traits from there on. Ultimately, you were expecting a cock, horrified by the implications of what that meant in this situation, but as the zipper’s teeth continued to split, your eyes were greeted with something that made your guts flip.

It was fucking blue.

The thing sitting heavily between his legs was the prettiest ocean blue you had ever seen, with coils of deep indigo veins running up it’s length between bands of bioluminesce. Long, thick, and glowing, Mando’s half-hard trouser meat sprang out of his open pants, a relieved sigh wheezing through his modulator. It was shaped like a wang dangler all the way up to the head, but there it was something else.

At his tip a circle of petal-shaped protrusions cinched together like the blossom of a flower right before it bloomed. The knobbed end of his thingy wept with clear juices, beading deliciously from between each little bud. Your eyes were locked to a particularly fat drop of precum as it slicked down his length to his base where you found another feast for your eyes.

A hole.

He didn’t have balls, you guessed they were somewhere inside him, instead he had a fat, juicy cunt, his quivering cock growing from where a clit would be on a human. It was just as alien as his length, a dark cobalt that lightened to vibrant teal around sharp teeth that lined his widely spread folds. Those rightfully made you nervous, and fucking confused. What the hell are those supposed to latch on to? Me?!

“I’m disgusting, I know.” He whispered, turning away from you to study the wall while you studied his excitables.

“What? No you’re not, you’re… you’re beautiful.” He snapped back towards you, his visor searching your star-struck eyes for the hint of a lie, but there wasn’t one. He was looking at you, but you weren't looking at him, you were looking at him, straight through his groin into his vulnerable soul. There was just so much, and you wanted to touch all of it. Reflexively you licked your lips, wondering if he tasted as good as he smelled. Your fingers crept forward, hovering inches from his cerulean length. “Can I?”

A sharp inhale echoed in the cubby, followed by a stark nod. “Be gentle… it’s... argh… sensitive!”

“Shhh, Mando, I’ve got you. I’m gonna take good care of you.” Your fingertips met his heated flesh, making him shudder and groan. His strange length twitched from your touch, making another pearl of precum shimmer from the tip. You wrapped your hand around him, stroking the velvety length that weighed heavily against your palm. His helmet hit the wall with a deep, guttural moan, sending molten waves of heat to your own growing need.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck mesh’la...your hands are amazing.” The man purred, letting his arms fall from his belly to his sides where his fists tangled in the threadbare sheet. His hips thrust upwards into your slow tugs, rutting into your palm. In the tight quarters the mouthwatering scent of honeyed fruit grew stronger until you were sucking down your own spit to keep it from flooding your mouth.

“Hehe, yeah? You like this?” You flicked your wrist in languid spirals, running your thumb over the weeping blossom to drag warm slick down his length and towards your second goal. His toothy slit parted for you as you got closer, the pearly white fangs curling away from you safely. With one hand still on his beef, you rubbed your fingertips around his flushed hole, sinking a digit down to the knuckle.

“Yes.” he moaned breathlessly, his womb jiggling when he convulsed from your touch. You sank another finger inside, scissoring him open while you fisted his cock. “K-keep doing that and... and…” His heels scooted on the mattress when he clenched around you, his swelling length pulsating in your hand. A needy whine busted out of his modulator, and between your sunken digits you felt something grow.

“Go ahead, Mando, come on my hand, or in my hand, I don’t care. That’s a good boy.” He bucked into your steady thrusts, lost in the combination of filling and being filled. His walls fluttered around your fingers, and you felt something press against you when he bore down, but instead of something popping out of his cunt, something went up his length.

*Pop!*

From the tip of his spear, a bright orange ball sprang from him, surprising you so much you let go of his throbbing shaft and pulled your fingers from his slit. Excitedly you plucked the egg from where the halo of petals parted, presenting the orb to you like a priceless gem. “You did it! Look, Mando, it’s a… ball! Congratulations.” You were beaming, so proud of yourself for midwifing him through the process, but he was shaking his head.

“There’s more… and… and I’m starting to get desperate. You got me started, I can take it from here. Thank you for your help.”

“I’m not leaving til you’re done, but let me go find a bucket or something to… oh no!” In your hand the soft shelled egg started to dissolve and wither in the dry air, turning into goo that dribbled down your arm. “Oh shit! Oh shit Mando I’m so sorry! I-I don’t know w-what happened!”

“No no… It's alright.” He shook his head, bringing a hand up to caress his swell. “They never make it. It’s ok though, it's not like they’re fertilized. Please leave me now, your hands aren’t going to tide me over for long, and I don’t want to do something I’ll regret.”

“You keep saying that! I don’t understand, why do you think that you’ll-”

“Because I want to breed you.” The singular black eye of his visor snapped viciously towards you, making you pale. “I’m sorry, but it’s all I can think about. It’s been getting worse the closer I’ve gotten to my heat, but I don’t want to do that to you, I respect you too much. Please… forgive me.” He looked away from you shamefully, but his luminous length was still pulsing with the rapid beating of his heart. “I think being around you is why I’m so full, you’re just so damn beautiful… a-and I want you.”

Maybe it was the sickenly-sweet spice that he was putting off, or the cum soaking your hands, or even the vulgar fantasies that you imagined to yourself in the night, but you were intrigued. “You wanna do what now?”

“Breed you.” He growled, his voice so dark and sinful everything inside you clenched around nothing. “Fucking stars ever since you stabbed the cantina table I’ve wanted to be inside you. Feel your pretty little pussy squeezing me, hear those sweet moans you make when you’re alone at night… yes I can hear you. You’re louder than you think you are. But I want to be the one making you scream.” His growls turned to forced laughter. “I wish I’d gotten to before...this.”

“I don’t mind this…” You hummed, dragging your fingers along his velvety length, but he caught your wrist again, shaking his head.

“Stop, before I can’t hold back anymore.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to hold back.” You batted your lashes at him and bit your lip, leaning seductively towards his hunkered body. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t know what I’d do to you, what my… ugh… eggs… would do to your body.”

“Maybe we should… find out?”

“You don’t know what you're asking.”

“Neither do you.” With that you rolled forward to kiss at his big blue eel, making him curse out your name and grab a fistful of your hair.

“Mesh’la…”

You hummed and lapped at his crown, his nectar tasting even better than it smelled. Sweet and succulent, driving you crazy with need. Your venomous tongue could be so kind when it wanted to be, swirling around his knobbled head and flicking at his frenulum. Beneath you he was a mess, writhing and bucking with desperation. Lips slick with spit, you sank your mouth as far down as you could take him without gagging, fisting the rest with one hand and teasing his cunt with the other.

Fingers digging into your scalp, Mando fought the urge to fuck your throat raw, your obscene sucking threatening to toss him right over the edge. You hollowed your cheeks and spun your tongue, lapping around each sensitive bean and plunging into his slit to drink him down.

His muscles swelled and clenched with another pass, and you barely were able to pull your mouth away when a new sphere spat out his tip, rolling away from you to melt elsewhere. “Mando, they’re going to waste, what are we going to do about that?”

“Take your fucking clothes off so I can fuck them into you, pretty girl.” He was gone, the husk of his voice making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. “Let me breed you properly, make you mine. Show you what it means to be mated by a Mandalorian.”

You obeyed, rocking back on your haunches to peel your shirt away, releasing your breasts into the hot, steamy space. The black swath of void where his eyes should be drank in the sight of you as if you were the last glass of water on Tatooine, his hand coming up to pinch at your pert nipple. “These are beautiful. I’ve dreamed about these for so long, but they’re so much better in person.”

“They taste better, too.” You crawled over top of him, your knees in between his, waving the heavy dewdrops in front of his armored face. “You wanna?”

“My creed…”

“Party pooper. Fine, then you better help me open up, you’re packin’ more than I think I can fit.” You’d taken lovers before, once you’d even taken a Wookie on a drunken dare, and if it wasn’t for the persistent wet dog smell it might have been the best sex you’d ever had. But Mando was thick, and even thicker when his cock swelled to push out an egg.

“Are you really ok with this? You’re not just saying…”

“Mando~” You purred, pressing your softness against his pulsating length, shivering when you felt his fangs scrape your thighs. “Breed me. They’ll just melt back out anyway, what’s a little...fun?”

He reached a hand up tentatively to your face, his helmet shaking slightly from side to side while he hunted in your eyes for any resistance, any clue that you were just saying that to make him feel better, but he found none.

“How did I get so lucky…”

“You’re about to get even more lucky.” You teased, taking his hand from your cheek to pry the black and yellow glove off, chucking it somewhere behind you. The flesh of his hand matched the flesh of his groin, a soft golden tone that looked like it was kissed by the sun, but not once had you ever seen him bare an inch. It was also very human, looking much like your own, save for the length and thickness of his fingers and the dark hair that grew from his knuckles. They were very much the hands of a man.

Yay!

Your pants fell away next, disappearing out of the cubby and onto the floor with the collection of empty ration tins and discarded armor. Naked as the day you were born, you clambered over him and flopped against his side, letting your legs fall open. “Touch me, Mando, get me nice and ready to be bred.” He growled against you, rolling on his side and cradling you to his chest so he could easily sink his fingers into your fluttering heat.

“Fucking stars, you’re soaked. This all for me?” You nodded and whined, your eyes rolling back when he dove one finger inside, then a second, curling them upwards to find that hidden patch of nerves you could never really reach on your own. “Gonna get you nice and open, make you cum so you can take my clutch. Would you like that, mesh’la, want me to fill you up? Swell your belly full?”

You mewled at the debauchery of it all, blissed out of your mind as he finger fucked you relentlessly. His fingers sank into you all the way to the knuckle, his thumb drawing tight, diligent circles on your clit. Mando snaked his free arm under your neck, pulling you in close to his muscular body and leaning his helmet against your brow. The cold metal burned against your sweating forehead, the steam of his breath coiling out from under the sharp iron edge with every ragged breath.

“That’s it, come for me, beautiful. Almost there.” Your nails dug into his clothed shoulders and made you realize he was way more dressed than you were. Need to fix that. With shaking knees you squirmed and writhed on his slick hand until he brought you over the edge, your walls trying to break his fingers as you came, drenching the thin sheets. “Good girl, such a perfect little cunt. Give me one more, cyar’ika.” All his gentleness evaporated as he thrust into you, his thumb pressed to your sensitive button and making you fall apart all over again.

“Fuck me, Mando, please! I want you in me, you’re not the only one with wet dreams, y’know.” He rumbled a laugh and pulled his arm out from under your neck and his fingers from your sopping mess, dragging the wet of it across your bare thigh. Hauling himself up, he moved until he was between your legs, pulling his remaining glove off and working to undo his flack.

With bated breath you watched him hurriedly undress, wondering what other fun alien treats he was keeping from you. As the dark fabric fell away, your eyes were gifted with the sight of his body, though besides the wandering blue tiger stripes and his obvious non-human bits, he was remarkably close to a man.

Except for the parts of him that were glowing.

Strings of faint teal lights followed the flow of his body, mixed intermittently with yellow stars. It wasn’t enough to illuminate the little alcove, but it was a beautiful sight nonetheless, a constellation of stars you could call your very own.

His chest was wide and muscular, a trail of dark brown hair dusting down his sternum and over the swell of his middle. His arms and shoulders looked like tree trunks, ribbons of countless scars marring his flesh with shimmering whites and pinks. Pushing his pants all the way off gave you an even better view, though he had considerably more glow streaks further down his legs, spanning from the sapphire spire around his hips.

He was fucking gorgeous.

What does his face look like, then?

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you, right?” He asked sweetly, grabbing his beast and dragging the leaking head against your thirsty little cunt. You bucked your hips up to him, trying to notch him in your entrance, but he pressed his tip into your clit to make you writhe. “Tell me, I need to hear it.”

“Yes, Mando, now please please fuck...me!!” He snapped forward and thrust his appendage into you, bottoming right out even though his full tummy was in the way. He held himself still, his body shivering with delight as your excited walls rippled around him. Deep inside you felt the little buds at his tip teasing at the tight ring of muscle that protected your innermost sanctum, politely asking for entry.

“Fuck-ing Maker, I knew you would feel good, but...ah… so much better than I ever imagined.” You giggled at him, reaching out and rubbing the taut flesh of his abdomen where it sat heavily against your own, rocking your hips side to side. His fingers dug into the skin of your knees with a broken curse, trying to hold you still. “Keep doing that and I’m gonna…”

“What? This?” You arched your hips into his, trying to coax him into gear. “I didn’t know you were such a tease, tinman.” His helmet vibrated with a growl before he was sliding himself out, making sure you felt every inch of his length drag along your walls. The head of it almost managed to drop out, sitting tantalizingly at your gates before thrusting into you with reckless abandon.

You shrieked, impaled on his otherworldly spire again and again, the noise of it wetly echoing in the cubby. Above you he grunted with the strain, hooking his elbows under your knees and going to town. You were helpless, head rolling back, eyes fluttered shut as he filled you over and over again, moaning out his name.

Though he was lost in the heat of the moment, he wished the name on your lips was his real name, the one he had sequestered away when he took his oaths. Din. He fantasized about it in the night, the short syllable tumbling from your full lips, wet from sucking him dry. Din! He wanted to snuff out the sound of it with his own mouth, capturing your tongue and tasting you fully, plundering the hot wet hole that would so beautifully sing his song.

“Din!”

But Mando would have to do.

For now.

Both of you could feel he was getting close to something, his thrusts quickening with his breath. You felt your heartbeat gallop in your chest, thundering against the walls of its cage with excitement. He was gasping, struggling to pull oxygen in through the iron that protected his face. Hips snapped against yours, the slap of skin sounding obscene in the little space. You arched your back and bore down on him, your coiled muscles milking out his release.

And then you fucking felt it.

The clever little buds on his tip stuffed themselves into the cradle of your body, teasing your cervix open and leaving something behind. Inside you felt the soft little ball swell your womb sweetly, giving you a feeling of fullness you’d never experienced before. You keened from the sensation, bringing your hands up to your belly, searching for your treasure.

“Are you alright? Am I hurting you?” Mando asked urgently between broken breaths, a weathered palm coming up to caress your face. You tittered and nodded, his relieved sigh felt through your legs and stomach.

“Got any more for me, big boy?” You purred, dragging your nails through the soft hair on his bulging abdomen where he obviously did.

“You’re going to ruin me, cyar’ika.” The pulsating length stuffed inside you slid out slowly, stringing a line of precum from your slick heat to his flushed blue tip. “Get on your knees and I’ll show you how much more there is.”

Scrambling out from under him, you flipped yourself over like a slutty little pancake, presenting your ass in front of him to feast on with his eyes. The rough pads of his fingers dug viciously into your fleshy globes, making both of you groan. “Gonna give you all of me, beautiful. Tell me you want that?” He was trying to be dirty, but the sincerity in his voice made your heart flood with honeyglow.

“I want it, tinman, I wanna be full!”

A dark, lecherous laugh rumbled behind you while he lined himself up, rubbing himself over your slit before plunging in. Stars flashed behind your eyes when he hit your deepest reaches again, making you drop to your elbows. He circled the bones of your hips with his hands, squeezing and rubbing at your waist while you adjusted to the new angle. Impatiently you clenched around him, earning yourself a stinging swat on your backside that made you squeal.

“Bad girl, you have to wait.” He growled behind you, making you whine and earning yourself another spanking that was followed by a soothing palm. “You gonna be a good girl while I breed you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“‘Scuse me?”

“-snrt!-” You were having too much fun now, begging underneath him for friction with a roll of your hips, giggling through the cock-dumb grin on your face. “I’ll be good~”

“I know you will.” He slid forward, the angle hitting something destructive inside you, and you could tell he felt it. Memorizing your insides, he rocked forward again and again, building you up higher and higher to make you squirm. Fisting the sheets you cried when the lightning cracked up your spine, your cunt squeezing the life out of him and soaking him through. Your orgasm sucked another egg from his cock, the gentle weight sitting pretty next to the first.

“More…” you mumbled into the mattress, curving your ass up and brushing the underside of his swell. “Please…”

“You’re fucking perfect, mesh’la, so perfect for me.” His voice behind you sounded wildly different, lacking the gravelly modulation you’d grown used to, replaced with a rich baritone that tied your guts up in knots. Curiosity almost got the better of you, but before you could turn around to look at his bare face he covered your eyes, his broad palm spanning the entire width of your face. “No peeking. Be a good girl or you won’t get any more.”

He set his empty helmet down by your head, giving you something to look at if you could keep your eyes open, but his filthy cadence made your eyeballs roll back til they were gawking at your brain. Mando plowed you like his life depended on it, his fuckstick swelling inside your walls with each pass of his spend.

Reaching back, you rubbed your steadily-filling middle, the weight of his brood already making you show. Your devious digits kept going, fingertips teasing around where he melded into you, your lips stretched tightly around him. He jumped when you stuffed your hand back even further, careful not to catch on his goddamn crotchteeth to finger his cunt.

“Mesh’la!” He cried, bucking into you and pushing at least three more eggs into your womb with a single thrust. Above you he curled against your spine, his belly flattening while yours continued to swell. His arms left your hips to snake up your body, crossing between your breasts like a seatbelt and hauling you up off your elbows to his chest. Buckle up, buttercup! His sweaty pecs stuck to your spine while he kissed at the side of your neck.

You wanted so badly to look.

Instead you closed your eyes and let yourself get lost in the passionate kisses he pressed to your skin, his teeth grazing the tender flesh under your jaw. The fact that he even had lips crossed a few dozen species off of your list of possibilities, and even more when you felt the tickle of facial hair. Mando’s heated kisses tracked up your throat to nibble at your ear, his thrusting getting messy behind you.

“Can you cum for me again, beautiful? I wanna feel it.” The hand between your breasts slid up to your throat, pressing ever so gently while the second found your clit and spun devious little circles. His scruffy beard scraped your shoulder as you writhed on him, tears springing to your eyes with your crashing orgasm. “Mmph, that’s my good girl. So fucking perfect!”

His hips stuttered, slapping against your ass with a final burst, the fill of him swelling your middle to capacity, bouncing with fullness. Heavy, desperate breaths puffed against your skin as he came down from his high, caressing you with his hands and the sharp point of his chin; mumbling praises in your ear. “I didn’t think you could get any more beautiful, look at you…”

At his purring you flickered an eye open, looking down past your breasts at where you were swollen with his clutch as if you were swollen with child. His broad palms danced along the taut flesh, sliding from your precious tummy to the drops of your breasts, his hums of contentment rumbling between you. His chest and abdomen were flush with your spine, his body returned to its natural shape while yours had changed so drastically.

Between your legs his spent cock throbbed, making your combined arousal drip down onto the destroyed mattress when it softened and released. You whined from the loss, whining louder when he sneaked his fingers inside, feeling your stretched walls and musing about how wonderful you felt.

You reached forward for his helmet, handing it back to him and trying not to look at the warped reflection of his face in its sloping surfaces. He took it from you gently, letting it sink over his face so you could get off of your knees. You flopped heavily over on your butt, sitting upright and petting your full womb with a blissed out look on your face.

He laid next to you, holding you close to his body as if you were his cute little wife expecting your first baby together, and not a pair of interspecies hunters giving in to your primordial needs. You leaned against him, sighing contently and watching his serpent retreat into his body, the rows of teeth biting together and showing you why he didn’t wear codpiece with his armor.

“That’s fuckin’ weird, dude.” You laughed, brushing a fingertip along the glistening enamel.

He winced behind you. “I know, I’m sorr-”

“No, I like it.” you crooned, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. “That was fun. How often did you say this happens?”

“About once a year, but… uh… I can still get hard, without a clutch, if that’s what you’re asking?” You nodded with a laugh, curling up against his side so your full womb rested on his hip. He sighed contentedly, drawing circles on your belly with his fingers. “How does this feel? Does it hurt?”

“No, not at all, actually feels good. Feels full. I like it, I’m almost sad that it’s not gonna last.”

“Me too, you look so good like this. I could get used to it.” You hummed in agreement, shifting your legs apart so that when the eggs withered and turned to goo they could easily make their way out.

Should be any second now.

The two of you waited, laying together in post-coital bliss, just enjoying the feel of each other’s bodies, tracing scars and stars, exploring the wonders you’d kept secret from each other.

You waited.

And waited.

The minutes ticked by, at first it was a blessing, giving you time to bask in the afterglow together, but as the minutes turned to quarter hours, then halfs, you started to get worried. “Mando? I can still feel them, they’re not breaking down.”

“I’m sure they will, they always do.”

“Ok…”

They didn’t.

Hours went by, and even after waddling to the fresher shower and trying to squat them out, the eggs remained. You got washed up, half morbidly, half exuberantly watching the way the fresher water dripped from your belly while you cleaned up.

Outside the shower you toweled yourself off, taking extra steps to dry under the swell of your womb, but you struggled to reach all the way around. Mando knocked on the door politely before letting himself in, dressed only in his helmet and pants. Dutifully he took the towel from you and got to the places you couldn't reach while you were carrying his potential young.

It was surprisingly intimate, maybe even more so than being stuffed full of his length. He started on your legs, between your thighs and up to their apex, then softly wiped at your tummy and hips. His deft hands dragged the towel under each breast, then your shoulders and arms, then lastly your neck; draping the wet fabric around you like a cloak when he saw your bunching brows. You looked nervous.

“We’ll figure it out, mesh’la, I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” He stated with determination, brushing his thumb down the curve of your cheek and turning your eyes to meet his visor. Your hair was still wet, and now so were your eyes, the first twinges of fear creeping into their corners. He didn’t like what he saw. “Close your eyes, lovely girl.”

You did, squeezing back the mist that was starting to form. He let go of you, and you heard the sound of something heavy and metallic being set down on the sink. The towel around your shoulders was lifted over your head, draping it over your face. You were about to give him hell, mad that he would want to hide your face when you were clearly getting emotional, but instead you felt the wet fabric being lifted as he joined you underneath.

Then he kissed you.

Warm, petal-soft lips pressed against your cold wet ones, suddenly surprising you before you melted into him. His kiss was as gentle as his hands that were making their way up to your jaw, holding you steady while he slotted his mouth to yours. He felt human, the edges of his teeth dull like yours, thankfully not sharp like the ones between his legs. Tasted human, too.

You kissed him back, darting your tongue out with an experimental flick, licking his plush lower lip. He inhaled sharply, caught off guard by your forwardness. His fingers coiled around the back of your head, tangling in your wet hair as his kisses grew in intensity. The smooth muscle of his mouth danced with your own, letting you both taste each other for the first time.

“Ner cyar’ika, I’ve waited so long for this.” he purred against your lips, his words heavy with adoration. He kissed you again, pulling you into himself hungrily and tickling your nose with his mustache. Your own hands came up, slowly dragging over the expanse of his chest to the sinewy length of his neck, and finally to the edge of his jaw.

“Can I touch your face, Mando? I won’t look with my eyes.” He nodded against your lips, his nose bumping the side of yours. Cautiously you wandered your fingertips along the edge of his jaw, the stiff bristles catching under your nails. He shivered with need when you scratched him, carding through his scruff like you were taming a massif.

His sharp jawline led you up his cheeks, their softness dusted with erratic bristles. You ran your thumbs under his eyes, exploring his cheekbones and the creases that bordered his large eyes. Pressing your forehead to his and pulling your lips away, you circled your thumbs down the sides of his well-defined nose to the line of hair above his lips. The creases that your hands found told you he wasn’t a young man, but he probably wasn’t too far beyond your age either.

And you imagined him to be very handsome.

It wasn’t until your hands found his ears that you remembered he wasn’t the same species as you. They were pointed, and sensitive if his little moans of pleasure were anything to go by.

“I don’t ever want you to see those, they’re ug- oh!” You cut off his self depreciation to tilt his head between your hands, pressing a kiss to each of his ears with a seductive puff of steam. “St-stop, you’re giving me goosebumps.”

“Stop being so mean to yourself, buckethead, only I can be the judge of that, and I bet they're cute!” He laughed, the sound warm and brassy, but not enough to distract you from your current predicament. “What… what are we going to do about… this.” You took each of his hands in yours and set them on your full belly, letting him caress his handiwork.

He sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead in the dark of the towel, his lashes brushing your skin when he dropped his brow to yours. You heard his lips part with a smile, imagining the way the wrinkles around his eyes would bunch, wistfully hoping that one day you could see them for yourself.

“Mesh’la I-… I have no idea."

Next->

If you liked this fic, check out Garden of Ishtar! It's chapter 9 in a series but can be read stand-alone. Enjoy~

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[rubysunnday]

she could be the one | c.b

The house was quiet. The household staff had finished their duties for the day and had blown out the candles, shut the windows and curtains and had migrated down stairs to their quarters. Y/N had forgone the ball occurring that night in Greenwich, choosing to stay home and finish her embroidery.

She looked up from her sewing as something clattered against her window. Y/N frowned, dismissing it as a stray branch and turning back to her sewing but looked up again when something clattered against it again.

Y/N stood up and walked up to her window, pulling back the thin, net curtain and looking out.

Colin Bridgerton, the bastard, was standing in the side garden of the house looking up at her smugly whilst holding a bunch of pebbles in his hand.

Y/N scoffed out a laugh and pulled up her window, opening it wide and poking her head out the window.

“Colin Bridgerton, what on earth?!” Y/N exclaimed, staring at him as if he’d gone insane which, in all fairness, wasn’t a difficult assumption to make considering his seven siblings.

“No one was home,” Colin replied, “minus Hyacinth and Gregory but they're both too engrossed in attacking the other to notice me disappearing.”

Y/N laughed, leaning out her window further. “That doesn’t explain your presence here. In my garden. At night.”

“I missed you,” Colin said, beaming. “And I wondered if we may have a stroll around your surprisingly large garden.”

Y/N gaped at him, astonished by the nerve and gull of the man who was not only her best friend but also the man she’d shared her first kiss with at the start of the season underneath the cherry tree at Hastings House.

“Colin... I-”

“Come on, Y/N/N,” he said, stepping closer to the window and giving her a the smile that made her knees weak. “Please?”

Y/N sighed, clutching the window sill tightly as her knees wobbled. “Alright. I’ll come down.”

Y/N turned around and grabbed her shawl, missing Colin’s celebratory punch in the air. She turned back around and began climbing down from her first floor window, using the rose trellis as a ladder.

Colin’s hands snaked around her waist as soon as she was within arm’s reach and he gently lifted her down onto the ground and spun her around, pressing her back against the wall and kissing her. Y/N’s feet were still yet to touch the ground.

“Colin,” Y/N said, pushing him back slightly and looking at him. “You can put me down, now.”

Colin smirked and gently dropped her to the floor. He leant down and kissed her again, pushing her back against the wall.

“I thought we were strolling,” Y/N replied, smiling, pushing him back again. She reached out and entwined her fingers with his. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

Y/N began walking, gently tugging Colin’s arm so that he followed after her.

The gardens of Chantry House - Y/N’s childhood home - were even bigger then those at Bridgerton House. The central feature was the fountain at the centre of the garden with a statue of young woman holding a water pot in the middle. Behind it, through the cherry trees and behind the hedges was a beautiful white marble pavilion.

Y/N lead Colin around the fountain, through the trees and behind the hedge and walked up the stairs and came to a stop in the centre of the pavilion.

“No one will see us here - unless they come back early, that is,” Y/N explained, pulling Colin close and grabbing his other hand. “It’s also about to rain so, I thought we could hide in here.”

Colin frowned. “How do you know it’s going to rain?” He asked, letting go of Y/N’s hand and resting it on her waist.

“You can smell it in the air,” she replied, fiddling with his collar. “Petrichor - the smell of dust after rain. It travels on the wind from where it’s rained which means its coming this way.”

Seconds after she finished speaking, the roof above them began being battered by heavy rain, the wind blowing stray drops inside the pavilion. Y/N sighed happily, tilting her head back as the late summer heat broke and the wind swept away the humidity and heavy air.

Colin smiled at her as she spun in a circle, his eyes focused solely on her and nothing else. He’d become known as a flirt and a bit of a rake over the years and almost any woman he laid eyes on knew he was there for a short time and not a long one.

But when he looked at Y/N... he felt as if his world was complete. As if he had no need to travel in search of fulfilment because it was right in front of him. Because his fulfilment was her.

The thing he'd spent so many months travelling to find had been in London the entire time and he just hadn't realised it until their stolen kiss under the cherry tree back in May. Ever since then he’d needed her in his life. Needed her smile, her laugh - the way her eyes lit up whenever she spoke about history and museums and anything else she liked.

He needed her like he needed air to breathe.

“What?” Y/N asked, finally noticing the way Colin was staring at her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Colin smiled and shook his head fondly. “Nothing, darling. You just look beautiful tonight. You look beautiful every night.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up and swished the skirt of her dress. “Why thank you, Mr Bridgerton.”

The gardens lit up as a flash of lightning cracked across the sky followed by the low rumble of thunder echoing above. Y/N smiled and grabbed Colin’s hand, pulling him closer.

“Can I interest you in a dance, Mr Bridgerton?” Y/N asked, taking the lead - a move usually reserved for men in a dance.

Colin let out the cutest giggle that didn’t sound like it could possibly come from him - the handsome, tall third Bridgerton brother. “Of course, Miss Y/L/N.”

Colin took up the women’s position in a waltz whilst Y/N took up the man’s. Y/N softly hummed under her breath the traditional rhythm for a waltz and the two began dancing around the pavilion, the rain being forced in by the wind and causing the two to get damp as they spun around.

Y/N giggled as Colin spun her away, spun her back to him and took up the normal pose of a waltz, taking the lead. 

It wasn’t often that they were allowed to be alone - society and tradition dictated that there should always be a chaperone around should a man and woman want to be alone. But the intimate moments between her and Colin - when no one else was around and it was just the two of them in a dark corner of a ballroom or in the centre of a maze. 

Dancing with him in the middle of the night, in the rain was magical. Y/N, dressed in nothing more than her morning dress, barefoot with her hair down, felt free. No one was watching her. It was just Colin’s eyes on her.

Colin had lost his jacket when he’d walked into the pavilion and had rolled up his shirt sleeves, exposing his forearms. They both felt free and away from the piercing eyes of the Ton.

Colin put his hands on Y/N’s waist and lifted her up into the air, spinning her around and the gently setting her on the ground again, the two impossibly close.

“Y/N,” Colin said softly, their foreheads touching, “I -”

The sound of a carriage rattled past the back gate and Y/N lurched away from Colin, her eyes wide.

“Oh, that’s -” She turned around in a circle and spotted Colin’s jacket and threw it at him. “My parents. You should go, Col, or... well, god knows what your brothers will do to me.”

Colin laughed. “Alright, I’ll go, but not after a kiss.”

Y/N shoved Colin out of the pavilion and stood on the top of the stairs, leaning down and kissing the tip of his nose.

“There,” she said, stepping down until she was on the path. “Now, go.”

Without giving him a chance to argue, Y/N dashed off down the garden path in the direction of the back door before her parents returned and found her in the garden with Colin Bridgerton.

Colin stared after her a stupid grin on his face. Anthony was going to be in for a shock when he got home that night. Colin Bridgerton was finally ready to settle down with the woman who had become his world. 

[saltybaltic]

Natasha Romanoff X Reader - FIVE FEET WORTH OF PROBLEMS

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow X Super Soldier Reader

Synopsis: Natasha isn’t the tallest member of the team which leads to her needing help sometimes (for clarity this is based on MCU Nat when she is just little and I’ve made the reader a super soldier simply to be more inclusive cause we’re not all 6 feet tall)

Warnings: language

Words: 1435

(1 ft)

One of the things you’d noticed about Natasha from the word go was her stubbornness. Especially when it came to asking for help. She was a firm believer that if something needed doing, there was no reason she couldn’t do it herself. Even so, you couldn’t help but laugh at some of the situations she tried to handle by herself.

For example when you walked into the kitchen one morning and saw Natasha straining to reach the ceiling from a set of step ladders, you couldn’t hold in a small chuckle as you went to pour a coffee.

“Need a boost?” you joked, grinning up at the other woman over the rim of your mug.

Natasha didn’t seem in the mood for your humour, shooting you a quick glare before continuing to try and reach upwards, “This damn lightbulb has been out for three days now and not one of you idiots has had the inclination to change it.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” you stated, taking a swig of your drink before placing it down and stepping closer so you were able to look up at the other woman, “You’re never going to reach.”

“Shut up.” shot back Natasha, huffing out a growl of frustration and standing as tall as she possibly could on her tip toes, “Why in the hell have we got the shortest step ladders in the world when the ceilings are this high?!”

You laughed, seeing Natasha’s frustration getting the better of her as you gestured for her to move, “Come on before you break your neck, let me do it.”

“If you were going to do it you would have done it by now!” snapped Natasha, “I can do it.”

“Okay but I mean, clearly you can’t.” you teased, not in the least bit put off by Natasha’s blatant irritation. Seeing she wasn’t going to move from the step ladders, you hopped up onto the kitchen counter beside her and stood up straight. The counter was about the same height as the ladders but you were still head and shoulders above the other woman as you reached up with ease and unscrewed the lightbulb.

The fact you had not only made it look so effortless but had also done it in a matter of seconds only seemed to annoy Natasha further, her jaw working as she narrowed her eyes in your direction, “And yet you still couldn’t be assed doing it three days ago?”

“Like I said,” you started, holding your hand out as Natasha begrudgingly slapped the spare bulb down into your palm so you could reach up and put it in place, “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Sorry I didn’t realise you suffered from blindness.” grumbled Natasha sarcastically as she made her way down from the ladders, “My condolences.”

Even with the snappy attitude from the other woman, you had to grin back at her, “I think the words you’re looking for are, thank you for your help.”

“Kiss my ass.” muttered Natasha, folding up the ladders and making her way back out of the room.

Hopping down from the counter you shouted after her, “Any time.”

You just about caught the rude finger gesture she sent your way before she disappeared down the hallway.

(2 ft)

The next time you had to help Natasha you found her much more accepting of your assistance; seeing her in the gym one evening and staring between the punching bag on the ground and then back up at the hook on the ceiling with a frown.

You had to smile, seeing the other woman obviously trying to figure out a way to get the equipment where she needed it but unable to find a solution. “Seems I’m always in the right place at the right time these days.”

Turning to see who had joined her, Natasha folded her arms and tilted her head with a small smile, “I suppose you are, yes.”

You walked over to join her, bending down to grip the chain at the top of the punching bag before lifting it carefully towards the ceiling and clipping it into place. Natasha watched intently as you did so, her eyes drawn to the flex and strain of the muscles in your arm with the action. Instinctively she swallowed, feeling a small lump in her throat and a dryness to her mouth that she hadn’t been prepared for. Of course it was no secret that you were enhanced but she couldn’t deny it was impressive to see an example of your strength. Especially in such close proximity.

Turning back from the punching bag, you didn’t fail to notice the way Natasha’s eyes were focused on you and the slight flush to her skin. You broke out into a smirk, flashing the red head a wink for good measure as you gestured to one of the corners of the gym, “I’ll be just over there if you need help with anything else.”

(3 ft)

Getting a knock at your door one afternoon, you weren’t particularly surprised to see Natasha on the other side of it. Granted you weren’t the closest of friends but you felt like your relationship with the other woman had been improving over the last few weeks. There was a sort of ease that had settled over the pair of you, finding it almost effortless to be in one another’s company. Comfortable silences were becoming more common and playful, flirtatious banter had quickly replaced the usual indifference towards one another.

Despite not being surprised to see the other woman, you couldn’t help but be a little shocked by what came out of her mouth when you answered the door.

“Can you come and help me with something?”

Leaning against the door frame, you thought for a moment and shot the red head a playful smile, “Is there a please in there somewhere?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Please.”

“Lead the way.”

Following behind Natasha, you were even more surprised when she took you to her bedroom, having never seen the other side of her door before. The room was predictably nice and tidy, not to mention tastefully decorated.

Natasha didn’t give you much time to take in your surroundings, clearing her throat to get your attention, “I um ... I need this mirror hanging.”

You looked down to where the red head was pointing, seeing a large, tall mirror leaning against one of the walls, “And what? It’s too heavy?”

“I can’t reach.” admitted Natasha, her words quiet as if she didn’t want anyone to actually hear what she’d said as she motioned over to the far wall, “It’s like a six foot mirror and well ... that’s a little out of my reach. Plus, yeah, it’s really heavy so I didn’t exactly want to be stood on a ladder with it.”

Nodding your head in understanding, a small smirk made it’s way across your face, “So you, Natasha Romanoff, need my help?”

“Don’t be an ass about it, this is exactly why I didn’t want to ask one of the boys.” grumbled Natasha.

Laughing quietly, you gave her shoulder a small squeeze as you walked over towards the mirror and assessed what needed to be done, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

Natasha settled herself on the edge of the bed, neither one of you speaking as you worked silently at setting the brackets up on the wall and making sure everything was in place. You could feel her eyes on you the whole time, occasionally looking up from what you were doing and receiving a small smile in return.

When you were finally finishing up, you had to admit that Natasha wasn’t lying and the mirror was indeed very heavy. You huffed out a breath as you lifted it into place, straining slightly as you tried to get it level and hook it onto the brackets, “Jesus Nat, what’s it made of? Solid gold? This thing weighs a tonne.”

She chuckled at your comment, laying down on her side and resting her head on her hand as she watched you hang the mirror in place, “But you make it look so effortless.”

“Oh so that’s what this is,” you laughed, turning to face the other woman, “You just wanted to check me out.”

Natasha clutched a hand to her chest in mock horror, “Me? I would never.”

“Sure you wouldn’t.” you teased, bending down to scoop up the few tools you’d used and placing them on the bedside table next to Natasha. Giving the other woman a grin, you stepped close enough that you could gently pat the side of her cheek a couple of times, “Don’t worry though, I don’t mind checking you out too if that makes us even.”

For a moment it looked like she didn’t know what to say, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she was trying to work out if you were being sincere. By the time she spoke you had already stepped back and made your way towards the door.

“Not sure I have nearly as much to show off about.”

Turning back to face her for a moment, you let your eyes trail over her body slowly and purposefully before looking back at her with a smirk, “Oh I would have to disagree with that.”

(4 ft)

“What you making?”

Your words seemed to startle Natasha, the spoon she was stirring her food with dropping against the side of the pan with a clatter as she gasped and turned to glare at you, “It’s rude to sneak up on people!”

“Well I didn’t exactly sneak.” you chuckled, walking around the breakfast bar to stand beside the other woman and peer down at the stovetop, “So what is it?”

Natasha shrugged, “Just pasta.”

“How exciting.”

Pushing you in the arm playfully at your tone, Natasha gave you a mock scowl, “I was going to offer you some but now I’m not so sure.”

“Well how do I even know you’re a good cook, it might be awful.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, dipping the spoon into the sauce in the pan and scooping some of it up. She held her free hand underneath it so not to drop any as she moved the spoon towards your mouth and raised her eyebrows expectantly, “Open up then.”

Looking down at the food cautiously, you blew on it for good measure before opening your mouth and taking the sauce from the spoon. You swallowed, running your tongue over your lips as you assessed the taste before pulling a face, “Needs more salt.”

“I know.” sighed Natasha, stirring the sauce again with a defeated slump to her shoulders, “But it’s in the top cupboard.”

At her words you had to laugh, running your hand over her back comfortingly, “Aww can you not reach the salt?”

“Don’t be a dick.” scolded Natasha, hitting you gently in the stomach but not shying away from your touch on the small of her back.

Reaching up to the cupboard above her head, you pulled it open and looked inside to retrieve the salt, earning you a quiet thank you from Natasha in return. It didn’t pass either of you by that even as the pair of you had settled into silence and the red head busied herself with adding the salt to her food, your hand remained on Natasha’s back, your thumb occasionally brushing delicately over her shirt.

The fact she seemed to enjoy the contact, almost leaning back into you to get closer, made your next words fall easily from your lips.

“How about for dinner tomorrow, I take you out somewhere?”

Natasha paused her stirring of the pan for just a second, your question taking her a little by surprise. You both knew that things had been leading this way, with every day that went by you seemed to be getting closer. The flirting, subtle touches and lingering stares were common place now and it was no secret that you were both clearly attracted to one another. Natasha supposed she just hadn’t expected you to ask her so casually and boldly. Still, she couldn’t deny it was what she wanted.

“Okay. I’d like that.”

(5 ft)

“This was nice.” offered Natasha, her arm slipped in to link with yours as you walked through the doors and back into the compound.

You nodded, tilting your head to look at her with a smile, “It was.”

“Thank you for dinner.”

Walking the red head down the corridor towards her room, you shrugged nonchalantly, “Thank you for joining me.”

The rest of the walk was silent until you reached Natasha’s door, the other woman reluctantly removing her arm from yours and taking a step back, “Next one’s on me.”

“Next one?” you asked with a grin.

Natasha nodded her head, reaching forward to smooth her hand over the front of your shirt, “If you want there to be a next one.”

“I think I could handle that.” you joked, bringing your hand up to join Natasha’s and brushing your thumb over the top of it.

The two of you stood in silence for a few moments, a small smile on your face as you simply enjoyed being in one another’s company for a little while longer.

Natasha smile widened as she watched your line of sight drop for just a second to her lips, now certain enough that you were probably thinking the same thing that she was. Giving you a playful grin, she took a step closer, “You know I would kiss you but, you’re a bit out of my reach.”

With a small laugh, you nodded your head slowly and reached down to cup the side of her jaw with your hand, “How about I come down to your level for once?”

Allowing you to tug her closer, Natasha smiled into the kiss as you ducked your head and brought your lips together. Neither one of you felt the need to rush or deepen it, happy to move your lips slowly together as her hands came to rest around your waist and your fingers brushed the side of her cheek. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but when you pulled back you were pleased to see that Natasha looked just as happy as you felt. Giving her hand a final squeeze, you nodded to the door behind her, “Go on, get inside before I change my mind and don’t let you leave.”

Laughing at your comment, Natasha reached up to grip the back of your neck and pulled you back down to her level so that she was able to press a kiss to your cheek, “You know, I see a lot of leaning down in your future.”

“Honestly? I really don’t mind.”

[summerrainwinterbreeze]

Rebel for the night

Pairing: Hueningkai x reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: swearing, mentions of jail, vandalization, my terrible sense of humor

Word count 0.5k

"C'mon!" You scream for the fifth time, patting the damp, moss-taken concrete. It's a high jump that he has to make, more so, his first, but you're fully confident that his long legs can be used for something. "You can do it, I believe in you, babe!" Your boyfriend, standing over six feet tall, does not mimic this assurity.

Kai says, "This was a stupid idea." Stupid? Yes, absolutely. Would you do it again? 100% no questions asked.

A harsh beat of frost-kissed wind slaps your face, threading through your hair, and tinting your cheeks burning red. Kai looks to you, then to the glorious neon-green dick you spray painted upon the wall that you now sit on. Some of your best work. You even bothered to give it tiny pubes, and pretty veins, and a little piercing at its tip. Halfway to drawing the Jacob's ladder up it's shaft, your beloved blaring blue-and-red siren bearing friends were heard approaching.

With a fiendishly wild smile spreading your lips, you say, "If you don't hurry up the cops'll cuff your ass."

"Don't curse," he says, voice strong in comparison to his near-freezing body, his hands frantically rubbing heat into his skin. He looks to you, then to your masterpiece, then to the blaring lights a few minutes behind you. "I hate everything."

You smile. "Pussy bitch!"

He scowls, "I told you not to!"

"Yeah?" You stand, nearly toppling over against the barrading wind and taking a few steps forward, then pivoting and walking back. Kai blanches. "That so?" Sardonic. Completely smug. "Then get up here and make me."

The cops are getting closer, and throwing Kai a middle finger full of love, you sit back down and watch him contemplate, swinging your legs. "Y'know, jail's a bitch. We should leave."

You laugh when his face screws, he doesn't dare to mimic your gesture. "I never wanted to do this!" He has to yell over the wind. "I just wanted some dumplings!" True, true, that was how you coaxed him out of bed at two am in the first place.

"Just jump! The fuck you got those long legs for!" He sweeps his hair out of his face, a useless thing to do. "Look!" You crawl over to the little white bag you left on the far side of the wall, lifting it for him to see. "Got your food!"

His grimace bathes you in a rush of satisfaction. "This is terrifying!"

You smirk, "Scream it with me! Silencio Bruno!"

"You can't be serious."

"Silencio Bruno!" You scream to the wind, the stars. "Scream it, babe! Silencio Bruno!"

Kai suffles from foot to foot, you stretch a hand towards him. "Silencio Bruno," he says in a voice so soft.

You swallow a large gulp of air. "Jump! Silencio Bruno!"

"Silencio Bruno!" His legs shake, but he runs, leaping with all his anxiety-filled might and you catch his hands, his face landing on your thighs, the two of you working to pull him up.

"You did it!" You throw your head back, grinning at him from ear to ear, cheeks hot and aching from the relentless stretch of a smile. You swing your legs to the other side of the wall, peering fondly at the likely dew-slick grass beneath. "You ready for another one?" The sirens are only a few blocks down but you grip the bag in your right hand and Kai's arm in the other. "Let's go! Jump!"

[sadlysoulx]

Haikyuu boys going to IKEA with you

Bokuto, Kuroo, Kenma, Atsumu and Tsukishima

I know, I know the idea is so random but my head is full of ideas so please do enjoy😩💓 Go Stan the double post 😏😏😏 i need to post a lot bcoz I need to make over those 2 weeks when I haven't post

📜REQUESTS' ALWAYS OPEN📜

⚠️ Warning⚠️: not proofread

Bokuto

This guy has a weird case of touching anything and everything when the two of you pass by the shelves.💀💀💀

He always picks up those Ikea stuff- toys and bring them around while holding onto you.😩💖

But then he drops them sometimes because he's complaining about how they smelled like drools💀💀💀

Please he joins the other kids play in that one playground when you stopped by to eat😭😭😭

You have to feed him.

when stops playing, he comes over to you to open his mouth wide, letting you feed him and then return to play with the other kids.

He likes those kiddie meals where nuggets and french fries where placed in a colored plate.

Bo complained that he wants his plate yellow but instead he got purple😬😬😬

You returned back to stroll in Ikea, checking out the furnitures.

He likes that area in Ikea where there is full of lamps and light bulbs.

Bokuto keeps playing with the switches, continuously trying them and turning them on and off and on and off and on and off until he breaks one😃

He nervously walks up to you and said and I quote "Baby, let's go I need to go to the toilet,"

You suspiciously nodded and made him go to the toilet.

Once he got out, he said that he's tired and wants to go home.

He doesn't want to return to IKEA for a whole month, thinking he will get arrested if someone recognized him as the guy who broke the bulbs.🙂

Kuroo

I swear Bokuto and Kuroo share the same brain😭😭😭

Kuroo also touches everything he sees and picks it up and puts it in the cart😩

BASICALLY BUYING THE WHOLE STORE

He is the type to borrow a pillow in Ikea, hop in the cart and sit in there while you struggle to push the cart because of his hefty weight.

he collects Ikea pencils and paper rulers😭😭😭

Like everytime he saw one of those pencil and ruler stalls he walks over and take a other batch of those.

Kuroo likes to play hide and seek in Ikea😬

Like really, you were getting worried where he went and then suddenly he pops out infront of you scaring you to death.

When he sees those books displayed in the house models, he tries to read them and complains why are they in a different language or why r they blank😭😭😭

He likes the area where there are full of chairs.

Kuroo keeps on sitting on them and then spinning and spinning around.

(I swear why is the fandom making him like a Playboy and badboy. . . He is the hugest dork❤️)

When it's lunch, he likes to get a lot of those butter in small platic containers, saying how much he liked them☹️💓

He also gets those jams and takes a lot because he said:

"it's free so why not take many?"

Btw,like Bokuto, he likes those kiddie meals, where you are given a colored plastic plate filled with nuggets and french fries.

He doesn't want to go home and it takes a full hour to make him convince to go in the car.

Kenma

He doesn't want to go out until you made him dress up and shove him into the car.

He was all grumpy grumpy

But then he actually had fun😃👍

Kenma likes to throw himself on the couches and beds until you have to drag him out of it.

Please he likes that area where there is full of kitchen tools✋😭

He would pick up a weird looking tool and try to figure out how to use it😖

Until he used it wrong and a screw hit his eye😭😭😭

Mood😃

Mood😃

Mood😃

When you were in the bedroom section, he likes those double decks displayed

He curses at the people who ever put up those plastic stuff on the ladder to keep people from trying to get to the top👁️👄👁️

You see those yellow banners hanging from the wall where the prices are labeled?? Yeah that

He likes to jump and hit those with the tip of his fingers

And when he successfully did, he looks at you with a smug face look on his face.

He likes to impress you so husshh🤭

When lunch rolls by, he likes holding the food cart for you, for some reason it excites him when he controls the food cart👍

He always asks you what you want and that not to worry, he'll pay for it.

Kenma also likes those free butter in little containers because they taste good👅

Anywayss he likes the soups served in Ikea 🥣 (I did too, they r just tasty)

In the end, he enjoyed the day in Ikea with you✌️

I mean duuuuh reader-senpai is just irresistible✨

Atsumu

He was actually the one who dragged you in Ikea

Please he would pick up weird things and try to figure what is it for but then ending up hurting himself😭😭😭

(I mean c'mon when I was in Ikea there r a lot of weird things, and when I tried them, I ended up hurting myself💀)

He likes those small wooden kitchen toys for kids placed in the house model

'Tsumu would play for a while with that kitchen by himself.

He would also talk to himself as he cook a plastic egg✨

You: 👁️👄👁️

Atsumu: ✌️😗🍳

Everyone: 😕

Hotel: Trivago

You had to drag him away from the kitchen toy stall.

Atsumu really really likes to collect Ikea magazines, even tho you have one at home, he would still insist on getting 2 or 3 more

One time, he picked up a plastic flower from outdoor/garden area, placed it between his teeth and playfully flirted with you.

He took it out and gave the flower to you🌻(it's those ridiculously huge ones)

But then he snatch it back and out it on the rightful place saying:

"oh you want it? Buy it yourself,"

You spanked him with the broom beside you.

When it's lunch, he is ✨fancy✨

So he takes mushrooms, mashed potatoes, meat with some sauce in it.

💅💅💅

It was night time when you both went home.

What do you expect?😕

Tsukishima

Ohmaigawshhh, I don't want to be biased here and have favorites but here we go🤩

He wants to stay in the parking lot and make you go alone💀💀💀

But then he insists to go when you said "Huh? Fine! But what if a man asks my number and still insists 'coz he doesn't see my boyfriend around?"

He is just like a lost baby but in a tall boy's body, you have it hold his hand and drag him around.💀💀💀

When you stopped by to check something, he doesn't know what to do and stands there clueless like🕴️🕴️🕴️

Tsukishima really throws a tantrum saying he's tired and want to rest.

But reader-senpai needs to shop💅

He actually shuts up when you gave him an Ikea dinosaur plushie, so he's hugging it with his one arm and the other holding onto you hand.

The boi is so bored so he randomly glares at teenagers passing by😾😾😾

When you were in the bedroom section, things went out of control 😔😔😔

He was getting lazy to walk around the rest of the Ikea passage way so he keeps on laying down the beds.

But when you finally got him up, he would lay down again on another bed💀💀💀

He finally decided to listen to you and walk again (thank God 😌)

Saltyshima was so desperate to escape, he went out the emergency door and pushed it open

But when he did, the alarms went off🚨💀 (inspired by Jungkook)

He got real scared and ran back to you, hugging the dino plushie.

You were laughing your head off😭😭😭

You decided to eat lunch and you know he is a 👑Royal👑 so eats fancy foods like Atsumu.

And yeah btw, you ended up buying the plushie for him because he won't stop getting salty about it.

But he shyly said thank you atleast¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Oof that was really long to writeಠ_ಠ

But I had fun bcoz I can literally imagine them doing all of those stuff, let me know if you want to have part 2 c:

Please follow @xmochaberryx

That's my best friend^^

📜REQUESTS' ALWAYS OPEN📜

Follow for more!✨

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Here’s what I have done of that other fic I started. I want to make it a much longer one-shot, and I will if anyone likes it. It’s based on this post that has stuck with me for ages, but I only really started thinking about recently.

~^~

Lucas didn’t know what to expect.

Realistically, he didn’t think his parents were suited to this type of responsibility. His dad made the indisputable point that they could do with the extra money. Lucas didn’t bother telling him that might not work out if the student left them within a week. They could barely take care of their own child, and yet they thought it was a perfect idea to bring another into the house.

Well, not exactly a child. He couldn’t decide if that fact was better or worse. Lucas got along fine with people; he had a good group of friends, and most of their classmates liked him. He could mesh with people he had just met at parties or the skatepark or even school. Acquaintances were easy to make. People his age didn’t really scare him.

Maybe he didn’t have the best confidence around pretty boys. But none of them scared him as much as Kes, and Kes was his best friend, so he thought he was probably doing pretty well in that case, too.

He wasn’t sure how living with someone else his age (and a stranger at that) would be. His confidence and his comfort levels were feeling low. Someone from another country, someone that he’d have to live with and go to school with and exist with on a very regular basis—that was a little frightening. That had Lucas feeling unprecedented levels of stress in the week before the exchange student arrived.

It didn’t help that they ended up being the most beautiful boy Lucas had ever seen.

~^~

Lucas could admit on sight that Jens Stoffels was one of those pretty boys that left him tongue-tied and sweaty-palmed any time he was forced to interact. Which, considering their situation, happened to be quite often. On the other hand, he didn’t want to admit that Jens Stoffels scared him more than Kes. (But Lucas was starting to think he most certainly did.)

He had been standing in the hallway, lingering awkwardly, when his father had opened the door for the first time. He caught sight of the tall boy with the dark hair and sharp jaw and instantly felt his breath catch. He watched the boy stumble through a greeting, a clunky mister-and-surname hello that was met with a too enthusiastic response of, “Please, call me Hugo. You must be Jens.”

Lucas didn’t have the strength to tease his father that of course, this was Jens, they’d been expecting him for the past month. He was too busy staring to do much of anything else. He had no right, in the moment, to tease anyone.

Then Jens’s eyes met his, and Lucas watched him falter.

Then Jens smiled, and Lucas was gone.

Hugo took it as a reminder to beckon his son forward and urge him to take Jens’s bags. They both ignored Jens’s protests, which trailed off rather abruptly when Lucas’s fingertips traced the back of his hands when grabbing the handles.

Lucas didn’t think he imagined the way Jens’s breath hitched as he glanced up at the boy, but he didn’t know what to do with it. The moment went ignored.

“Hey,” Jens greeted, low and hesitant, and Lucas realised he was scowling.

It was easy to soften his expression in the face of Jens’s nerves, but it was harder than he expected to smile. The horde of butterflies in his stomach and buzz of static in his head left him able to do little more than nervously lick his lips and nod. “Hey.”

“This is Lucas,” his father introduced him, as oblivious to his son’s state as ever. “He’ll show you to his room. We have your bed already set up, and he cleared some space. I hope you really don’t mind sharing.”

Jens offered Lucas another smile, wider than the first. “No, I really don’t mind.”

~^~

Jens took in the bunk beds with a mixture of confusion and amusement. He glanced over at Lucas. “I thought you were an only child?”

“I am.” Lucas gestured vaguely. “It’s for—we changed it.”

“You went out and bought bunk beds?”

Lucas couldn’t help but smile slightly, now. “Well, I didn’t, no.”

Jens’s cheeks reddened, and he shifted the bag he still held onto to his other hand. “You know what I mean. Your parents.”

Lucas shrugged. “Another separate bed wouldn’t have fit. It doesn’t—you don’t mind, do you? I’ve been sleeping on the bottom, but we changed the sheets so you can take whichever—“

“Cool,” Jens cut him off, tossing his bag onto the top bunk and then hoisting himself up onto it. He barely avoided knocking his head into the ceiling. He raised his brows at Lucas. “Cosy.”

“Seriously, you can take the bottom.”

“I certainly can.” Jens nodded his agreement, and the glimmer in his eyes made Lucas shuffle on his feet. “But if it’s where you’d rather be, I won’t argue.”

Lucas stared at him for a moment, then realised he was doing it and quickly dragged his gaze away as Jens became more amused. He cleared his throat. “Okay,” he said loudly, ignoring Jens’s grin. “Cool. I can, uhm, show you the rest of the house, if you want.”

Jens nodded and lithely took two steps down the ladder to the floor. “Cool,” he repeated.

~^~

Dinner was a less awkward affair than Lucas expected. His mother was doing well and seemingly intent on proving it, brushing off Lucas’s offers of help and glaring at his looks and questions. He could tell Jens adored her instantly, and seemed more comfortable referring to her as Tess than he was using Hugo. Lucas had to admit, though, that his father was also on his best behavior, and Lucas himself was probably the most awkward person at the table.

It was just that, Jens was right beside him, the chairs tucked so close together at the small table that Lucas could feel his radiating warmth. He held himself stiffly in place so as not to lean towards it, and felt silly and uncomfortable in doing so.

“Are you nervous about starting on Monday, Jens?” Hugo asked, cutting through his food with half of his attention.

Tess huffed. “Of course he is. But that’s normal. And he’ll have Lucas looking after him.”

Jens didn’t seem to mind being spoken for. He glanced over at Lucas again instead, and Lucas diverted his gaze, cheeks flushing. He wasn’t, however, overly embarrassed. Jens had snuck just as many sideways looks at him.

“Actually,” Lucas said, then had to clear his throat. “You skate, right? I saw you brought a board.”

Jens nodded. “A little.”

“I was thinking we could go to the park tomorrow. You can meet Kes and Jayden.”

Hugo snorted, and Lucas shot him an unimpressed look. “What?” he demanded.

“No, nothing, nothing,” Hugo said, hasty. “It’s just a funny choice, if your goal is not overwhelming him on his first day here.”

Lucas rolled his eyes. “He’ll be fine.” Then, to Jens, “Really, they’re cool. Just a little excitable. You’ll be fine.”

Jens nodded again and smiled, small and secretive. “Sure. You’ll be looking after me, right?”

Lucas smiled down at his plate.

~^~

Lucas still hadn’t fully realised how awkward it would be until they were expected to go to bed. It became fairly obvious when he was standing lost in his own bedroom and Jens started stripping in front of him.

He made a noise in his throat, high and startled, and quickly looked away from sturdy shoulders and lithe legs. He curled his hands into fists and crossed his arms over his stomach, breathing carefully. After a second, he realised standing there like this was probably worse, and forced himself to move to his wardrobe, digging through the drawers for something to sleep in. When he turned around with a worn t-shirt and sweats, Jens was wearing a t-shirt and shorts and staring at him.

“Sorry,” Jens said, curious. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Lucas shook his head. “No,” he tried, then cleared his throat. “I just wasn’t…” He shook his head. “Why would I be uncomfortable?”

Jens eyed him for a moment, then shrugged. “Some people prefer their privacy. There’s nothing wrong with that.” He scratched at his arm, then added, “I hope you don’t feel put out. It’s probably weird opening your space like this.”

“It’s weird for you, too, isn’t it? You just got here,” Lucas shrugged again. He was being a terrible host. He was being terribly obvious.

“I mean, yeah. The whole thing is stressing me out more than I expected,” Jens admitted, laughing slightly. Lucas was terrible. “But I guess—I don’t really do awkward? I know we’re supposed to be a good match. So I guess I came with the idea already in my head that we’d be friends.”

Lucas stared at him.

Jens shifted awkwardly and gave a dry, lopsided smile. “But I guess it’s not the same on your side.”

“No,” Lucas blurted. Then, realising how that sounded, rushed to explain himself. “No, I—I hoped we’d be friends, too. We will be. I mean, I still want to be. Friends. You’re cool. It’s just that we only met, and it’s like, right into the deep end. But there’s nothing to say we won’t be friends.”

He was rambling. Of course. Jens didn’t do awkward, and Lucas was being the most awkward person on the planet. That wasn’t the way this was supposed to go.

How was this supposed to go again?

He’d never had a plan to start with, but considering all thoughts fled his mind at the first sight of Jens, he doubted it would have been much help. He was a mess.

And they’d just met.

Despite everything, Jens seemed pleasantly amused by his disastrous attempts at connecting. There was a lovely curl to his lips and an adorable tip of his head as he returned, “Okay. Good.”

He sounded so genuinely relieved, so contented at the thought of Lucas agreeing on his hopes of friendship, that Lucas couldn’t help but smile back.

Then Jens added, “Better to keep my pants on, though? At least until there’s a little more familiarity in place.”

Lucas wanted to die. He was going to die. Why was he so embarrassing? So clueless and so obvious at the same time? This was only the first day.

Jens could be here for the entire year.

“It’s sexist to assume shoulders are only sexual when they’re women’s,” Lucas said, trying to keep Jens’s jokingly serious tone, and quickly realising the response sounded better in his head. And that it probably didn’t seem all that joking, if his cheeks were as red as they felt.

But Jens laughed, and his eyes sparkled, and Lucas was truly and seriously fucked. Jens wiggled his eyebrows, said, “Can’t argue with that,” and pointedly squeezed Lucas’s shoulder on the way past, and oh no, Lucas was truly and seriously gay, wasn’t he?

Lucas mustered a tiny laugh in return, looking over his shoulder to watch Jens go. His sight caught on the still exposed calves, the dimples in the back of his knees, the ends of strong thighs, the curve of—

He whipped his gaze away and took another careful breath, and Jens simply continued down the hall to the bathroom, oblivious. Lucas stripped off his hoodie, recognising that this was the safest time to change, and told himself to get a grip.

Friends, he thought, with another breath.

Cool.

[sergeantsporks]

Moving On

General Audiences

Gen, with some background Staja and Jlaire

Everyone seems to be moving on after the battle against Bellroc. Douxie seems to be the only one who can’t

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32747662

Or read under the cut

Jim had the chance to fix it all—to go back in time and keep everything from happening.

And he chose not to.

He said they had to soldier on. To carry the burden, respect the dead. He’d destroyed the time stone.

Douxie knew, in his heart of hearts, that he was right. That time travel would only bring more heartache—he knew that from experience. He knew that meddling with time was a bad idea. He knew that knowing the future was a responsibility, he knew that you couldn’t just “fix” everything. Jim was doing the right thing.

But JIM hadn’t lost everything.

Jim still had his girlfriend.

Jim still had his mother.

Jim still had Blinky, and AAARRRGH!!!.

Jim had lost Strickler, yes. And he’d lost his best friend. He hadn’t made it out unscathed, Douxie knew that. He knew he had no right to be angry at Jim for his choice, his RIGHT choice.

That didn’t make it any better.

That didn’t stop the raging, sick feeling in Douxie’s stomach as he thought about a future without Archie. Without Nari—even though he’d only been with the demigod a year or so, she was FAMILY. He’d put off his feelings for the fight—he’d moved on fast because he’d had to move on fast—but those feelings were catching up to him.

Claire was comforting Jim. Douxie stumbled away from the scene.

It wasn’t fair.

Krel and Aja hadn’t lost anyone—in fact, they’d gained about 7 someones. Good for them—at least they’d gotten out of this unscathed.

Jim and Claire had lost their friend. Jim had lost Strickler. But they still had others, their families.

Douxie had lost everything.

He still had Claire, of course, and Jim, and Steve.

But he’d never been their top priority—Jim and Claire had each other, and Steve had Aja, and Eli. And that had been FINE, he didn’t NEED to be everyone’s top priority. He’d had Archie and Nari, and he’d made them HIS top priority. And he’d been theirs.

But now?

Now, he’d lost them.

Nobody seemed to notice him go. They were mourning Toby. Of course they were mourning Toby, of course they SHOULD mourn Toby. It wasn’t fair to put his feelings over theirs—this wound was fresh. Of course they should have time to grieve. That was only fair.

Fair, fair, fair, fair.

Nothing was fair.

When he was far enough that he wouldn’t disrupt their mourning, Douxie finally gave out. He collapsed to his knees with a scream, a burst of magic breaking anything nearby that the titan hadn’t already destroyed. He pounded one fist into the ground, his vision blurring with tears and blue magic.

Nari.

Archie.

And he’d lost others, too, some time ago, but the new grief brought up old loss.

Merlin.

Morgana.

His parents, who he’d never known.

It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair!

Douxie punched the ground again. His knuckles slammed into broken glass and stone, but he didn’t care. He screamed out a sob, pressing his arms to his stomach, bent over double. Magic was emotion—and his was out of control. Blasts of energy were pulsing out of him in random bursts, clearing the area of rubble.

The magic and screaming faded to ugly, heaving, sobs.

No one had noticed.

No one had come to see where he’d gone.

Nobody noticed that he was hurting, too. That his whole life had been torn to shreds in the last 18 hours, and there was no fixing it.

Well, there had been a chance to fix it. But even that chance was gone, now.

Douxie would have given it all up—his staff, Merlin’s approval, everything—to see Archie and Nari again.

But he didn’t have that option.

The funeral passed in a blur. When his friends asked what happened to his hand, Douxie shrugged and said it must have happened in the fight. Everyone cried when they talked about Toby. About Strickler. Even Nomura got a few tears. Everyone cried for Archie and Nari.

Everyone but Douxie.

He didn’t think he could.

They asked if he wanted to say a few words for them, since he’d been the closest to them.

He couldn’t do that, either.

That would mean accepting that they were gone.

Archie wasn’t even dead. He just had to find him, he just had to—

“Douxie?” Claire took his bandaged hand. “You know we’re here, right? You don’t have to do this alone.”

Right. But he was alone. Archie had been there for him before—Archie had been his confidante, Archie had been the one he’d brought his feelings to. Archie.

Douxie clutched Claire’s hand so tight the tips of her fingers turned white. “You can—Archie’s not dead, you can find him. We can portal in, we can—”

“Douxie—Douxie, we can’t. The den is protected against my magic. Remember?”

He turned desperately to Krel. “The wormhole—they wouldn’t know to protect against that, you can open up a wormhole into it, then, right?!”

But Krel was shaking his head, too, “Not without coordinates—which we don’t have. I can’t lock in on feelings like Claire can.

If Nari had been here, her empathy magic would have been able to find coordinates.

But Nari wasn’t here.

And neither was Archie.

Jim wandered over, wiping his eyes. “Douxie. I’m sorry. I know you lost people, too.”

That didn’t even begin to cover it, but Douxie nodded and said thank you, and left.

The world went on.

Everyone else seemed to be moving on.

They had a memorial service every anniversary.

Jim, Barbara, and Claire brought flowers to the graveyard every weekend. Douxie planted some live ones on the empty grave that marked Nari’s date of death and let them grow wild.

It was what she would have wanted.

Everyone else seemed to keep going.

They went to work.

They finished school.

The learned to laugh again.

Everyone but Douxie.

Douxie scoured Merlin’s grimoire for clues that could bring Nari back—bring back Nari, bring back Archie with a wormhole. Easy. But there were none.

So he raided what was left of the bookstore. He read and read and read until he was sick of words, until his eyes were strained and he couldn’t see far away anymore.

But there wasn’t anything in the bookstore, either.

He moved on to the Camelot libraries.

He forgot to eat most days. Even on the days Jim showed up and cooked for him, Claire would clear away untouched plates.

And who needed sleep anyway?

Years passed. Years. He’d made it halfway through the Camelot library.

Except he couldn’t summon the energy to climb the library ladder anymore. He brought books down from the top shelves with magic, and discovered it was easier. So he stayed at his table, magic cycling books through.

He had to tie his hair back in ponytails and braids to keep it out of his face. The blue color had faded out of it, leaving it its natural black.

He missed Jim and Claire’s wedding, despite the fact that it took place a few doors away.

He missed Steve and Aja’s children growing up.

But he’d waited 900 years for Merlin. Surely he could work at least that long on getting Archie and Nari back.

Some days, he broke down and threw books across the room, angry at himself, at the Order, at Archie and Nari.

Other days, he’d stare at the wall for hours at a time, his magic waiting to clear away books he wasn’t reading.

Some days, he ran through the empty halls of Camelot, sure he’d seen Archie’s tail whipping around a corner. Sure he’d seen a flash of green.

He never really had.

On those days, he couldn’t make it back to the library. He’d collapse in the hallway, trying to summon enough energy to get up and keep going.

It was on one of those days that a shadow portal opened underneath him, dumping him neatly on a couch. Claire was waiting, her arms crossed. When had she gotten so mature and beautiful? And when had Jim, who was standing next to her, gotten so tall?

“Enough,” Claire snapped.

Jim put a hand on her shoulder. “What Claire is trying to say,” he said gently, “Is we’re worried about you. We have been for a while.”

“We were giving you time,” Blinky said quietly, “Time passes differently for wizards and trolls than for humans. We thought if we gave you a few years, tried to support you, you’d move on. Like the rest of us have—even AAARRRGH!!! But you cannot go on like this.”

Looking at the troll made a revelation drop on Douxie’s head. “I’ve been looking in the wrong place! Blinky, I need all of your books, I need to find out how to get into a troll market without the bridge, there is a way, I just—”

“NO!” Claire yelled, “No more research! No more books! Stop! Just… stop.” Her voice broke. “Douxie, you’re not okay. You’ve wasted away, and you can hardly walk. You don’t sleep. You don’t eat. You just read, and read, and read, and for WHAT?! Archie and Nari wouldn’t want you to waste your life like this!”

“I’m fine!” he protested.

Claire swiveled a makeup mirror towards him. “Look at yourself! Do you look fine?!”

Douxie stared at the reflection. It was a stranger. Claire and Jim had gotten older, had changed.

He’d stayed the same age.

But he’d changed, too.

His face was pale, gaunt, cheeks sunken in. The shadows under his eyes had always been prominent, but now they were so dark Claire could probably use them to make portals. His hair had gotten long, and dull.

And his eyes.

They were desperate. Tired. Strained.

And so, so sad.

Claire sat down next to him, taking his hands. “Archie and Nari are gone, Douxie,” she said, her voice cracking again, “Toby’s gone, Strickler’s gone, Nomura’s gone—we get it. It hurts. But they’re dead, and they’re not coming back. It doesn’t matter how much you destroy your health. It doesn’t matter how many nights you stay up, how many meals you skip, how many books you read. They aren’t coming back. You can’t keep going on like this. You said you hoped Archie would be happy. Don’t you think he’d want you to do the same?”

And Douxie finally broke down crying.

He hadn’t cried like this since the day it had all gone wrong. Since he’d first realized that he was alone.

He sobbed into Claire’s shoulder, ugly, heaving sobs that made his chest hurt. He cried all of the tears he couldn’t cry at the funerals. He cried all of the tears he’d held in on frustrating nights when he’d nearly given up. He cried until he didn’t have any tears left.

And Claire let him. She hugged him tightly—she’d gotten older. His student had become an adult. And he’d missed it. He’d missed so much.

“What—what do I do now?” he hiccupped, “They’re gone—and if I can’t get them back, what do I do?”

Jim put a hand on his shoulder. “The same thing we all did, the same thing we should have helped you do at the beginning, instead of letting you go this far alone, the same thing we’re going to help you do now. Shoulder the burden. Heal. And move on.”

[awanderingdeal]

Good things come to those who wait.

So, a while back I wrote this fic for the Wolfstar Games 2021, and it ended up being really rushed at the time, but I have been through and edited it so I thought I'd share.

It's a wolfstar oilrig! AU and is one of the angstier things I have written, although there are a lot of moments of levity.

Content warnings: Past character death (sibling), Sirius grew up in a cult, trans! Remus, mentions of transphobia, very brief mention of queerphobia, racism, sexism and poorphobia (basically Snape is an asshole), storms, and nightmares.

I think that is it, but let me know if you want me to add anything.

Rating: T+ (No adult content, but some parts are on the heavier side)

If you like to read it on ao3, the link is here

The sky had taken on an angry grey colour, air thick with the upcoming storm. The wind was still a light breeze for now, but Remus could already feel a dull throbbing in his temples from the increasing air pressure. Tonks grabbed his wrist, pushing the bright orange jacket of his uniform up to reveal a battered looking watch. Remus let her read the time; he’d long since given up trying to convince his friend she needed a watch of her own at this point.

“A couple more hours before things get really bad,” Tonks hummed, squeezing his wrist reassuringly before she let it go. “Are you sure you don’t want to hide out with me in my room? Start some rumours?” She wiggled her eyebrows playfully, the dancing hairs seemingly unconnected to the rest of her facial muscles as they moved.

“Not worth the hassle of Snape finding out I’d been there,” Remus said, a sad smile on his lips. “I’ll be fine.” He knew he shouldn’t care about one transphobic assholes opinion, especially when Snape had proven he would’ve just found some other 'flaw' in his existence anyway. Tonks was too queer, Frank wasn't manly enough (whatever that meant), Dorcas was too Black, and Fabian and Gideon were too poor. Remus had come to learn there was nothing wrong with any of them, and everything wrong with Snape. Still, he didn't have the energy to deal with it today.

“Snake incoming,” Frank drawled from a few feet away, his chin resting atop his girlfriend Alice’s head.

“Speak of the devil,” Remus sighed.

Most of the crew were tight-knit; for some, a second family, for others, the family they had always desired. Most, that was, except for a select few who had decided they were superior. These individuals were informally known to the rest of the crew as 'The Snakes'. They didn't care who they stomped on to climb their way up the ladder. Thankfully, Snape was the only Snake who hadn't been evacuated, a fact Remus found suspicious, but at least it meant there was minimal idiocy to contend with.

“I'm locking up," Snape snapped, hands poised on the heavy door that led downstairs. "Any of you idiots still out here in five seconds are getting shut out. I hope you have a strong grip."

“Petition to shut him out by popular vote,” Tonks quipped, nudging her shoulder against Remus’ as they turned their backs on the sea to head inside.

“If only,” Remus snorted, falling behind Tonks so they could walk in single file past Severus, neither of them wanting to get too close to him.

“He makes me feel so gross.” Tonks shivered dramatically once they were out of Severus' line of sight, doing a perfect imitation of his greasy sneer. “Do you want to come and raid the kitchens with me?”

“I’m going to see if I can catch some sleep. Who knows when this thing will be over, and they’ll expect us to be ready to get back out here straight away,” Remus said. He tipped his head towards the lounge where a tall, blonde woman sat with her eyes fixed on the TV screen. “Perhaps you should invite Fleur?”

“Perhaps you should stop trying to be Cupid,” Tonks huffed, rolling her eyes. “Go. Sleep,” she admonished, smacking Remus lightly on the arm. “And remember, my Uncle will be in there with you, so try to keep those sweet dreams to yourself...unless…. you’ve finally got your head out of your arse and decided to tell him about that mammoth sized crush you have.”

“I have never denied that Sirius Black is unfairly attractive, but even those eyes do not compensate for the fact he is an arrogant prick.”

“He’s not -”

“I just need to get to know him better, you’ve said,” Remus interrupted, the words mangled around a yawn. “Excuse me if I wait for him to show his sparkling personality before I make any moves."

"Re -"

Remus shook his head with a small laugh. He and Tonks had discussed this more than he cared to count, but her persistence was admirable. “I’m going to bed. Try not to get yourself into too much trouble whilst I’m gone.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound fun at all.” Tonks coiled a strand of her electric blue hair around her finger, pouting, and then letting her expression fall back into something more neutral. “Sleep well, Remus. Hopefully this will all be over soon.”

***

The weather off the Scottish coast could be harsh on any given winter day, brisk winds whipping up the sea around them into a foamy chaos, until they were forced to down tools for a day or two. It usually happened at least once a season, a disgruntled crew furious at the delay - their bonuses were linked to completing jobs on time, after all. They could be annoyed, because they weren’t afraid. If they were still allowed on the rig, they knew the danger was relatively minimal. Ordinarily, at even the slightest hint of trouble, they were flown inland.

Sirius hadn’t wanted to be upstairs with the others, where worry permeated their stilted conversations. They'd been caught off guard, but Sirius trusted the people making the decision to keep them here. They were his family. In a predictable display of motherliness, Euphemia Potter had already text him. Sirius knew she must have been unimaginably busy, yet she had still found the time to reassure him that whilst it would get windy out here, they would all be safe.

'We'll see you next week xxx'

He read the sign off from her last text again. There was no doubt in it.

On any other given day, Sirius would just be waking up now. However, he'd worked through his normal sleeping hours to assist the rest of the crew with getting the rig prepared for their departure. His eyes burned and his muscles groaned with exhaustion, but Sirius knew he wasn’t likely to get any rest soon, not with the amount of caffeine currently coursing through his system. Resigning himself to being awake for quite a bit longer, he grabbed his e-reader and tucked himself under the sheets.

He’d forgotten about his roommate until the door opened, a long creak echoing through the room. He and Remus worked opposing shifts, so Sirius knew Remus more as a lump under his duvet than as a person. He was a very attractive lump under his duvet, but even Sirius was not shallow enough to believe that constituted knowing a person. Maybe Sirius knew that Remus was an incredible driller, that he was wicked smart and had a cutting sense of humour. He knew Remus always signed the logbook in blue ink amongst all the black, so he could easily find his entries if he needed to. He knew that Remus preferred curly fries to normal chips, and that he always carried a folded paperback in his jacket pocket. There was nothing special about any of that though; you couldn’t live on a rig without learning the basics about somebody, even if you only interacted in brief passing. Besides, Sirius had always been told he was observant.

***

Remus had been falling asleep on rigs for the last seven years. Each rig had its own quirks, and this was an older one that moved more with the waves than the newer designs. It was a nightmare for any of the crew prone to seasickness, but over the last two weeks Remus had come to find comfort in it. Today the rocking felt different though. It felt threatening.

He rolled over onto his left hip, hoping the adjusted position would help bring sleep quicker. The backpack he’d dragged up with him fell forwards onto his feet as he turned. Earlier, having it on his bed and ready to go had made him feel more at ease, but now the weight was just a stark reminder of the fact he should have been bedding down in a hotel somewhere in Aberdeen.

“Will you stop moving? You’re giving me anxiety.”

Remus jolted at the harsh tone of his roommate’s comment, an incredulous snort escaping his nostrils once he'd recovered. "Sure, because being stuck on a floating platform in the middle of ‘the worst storm to reach the UK in 100 years’ is not anxiety inducing either.”

“You heard Mad-Eye,” Sirius sighed, his voice laced with sympathy now. “It’s not going to be as bad as they thought, and everything is shut down. We just need to wait it out.”

“Wait it out,” Remus repeated, passing an irritated puff of air through his nose, He sat up, pulling his sheets tight around him and tucked his legs against his chest. Mad - Eye was their safety officer. Remus was sure Sirius had mentioned the superior due to his reputation for never taking even the smallest of risks. ‘Constant vigilance’, the young roustabouts on board would mock his motto as they repeated a safety check that had been deemed inadequate. However, Remus was no greenie. He was well aware that even if Mad - Eye was concerned, not a flicker of it would be detectable to them.

“Think we should be concerned about that sway?” Sirius asked, swinging his legs off the mattress, letting his feet hit the floor with a thud. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and peered up at Remus.

“Who’s giving who anxiety now?” Remus replied through gritted teeth.

“You’re really worried, huh?”

“Shit. What gave that away?” Remus flopped back against the pillow. “I don’t want to die here. I was just getting my life together.”

Day 15 of a 21 day hitch. They had all been counting down the days until they would get to see their loved ones again. Remus had been looking forward to seeing his Mum. He’d just been mending his relationship with his Dad. Things had been looking up for once.

“Nobody is going to die.” Sirius said it with such certainty that Remus had no choice but to believe him.

***

Sirius was getting restless. He didn’t like waiting for things. Growing up, everything had been waiting. His family had been in the inner circle of a cult, and that meant there were always eyes on Sirius. Waiting for hours, weeks, days. Waiting for his parents to fall asleep so he could sneak down to the kitchens. Waiting to sneak out the house so he could use the mobile his friend James had snuck to him. Waiting for the other cult members to leave their house so he could at least have the illusion of privacy. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. He’d had enough of it for a lifetime.

“They think the worst of it will be over in twenty-four hours.” Remus said. His roommate had stopped spiralling, the intense thrum of anxiety dulled into something less cataclysmic.

“Longest twenty-four hours of my life.”

Remus huffed a laugh. “You were the one who said we just had to wait it out.”

“I believe in the great truth of do as I say, not as I do”

“Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished,” Remus chuckled, glancing at the photo he’d stuck on the wall next to his bed. “That’s what my mom used to tell me when I would ask how long I had to wait for my tomatoes to grow.” It was a younger version of himself, limbs too long for his pre-growth spurt body, holding a wooden bucket brimming with that year’s first crop of tomatoes. He smiled, knowing that on the other side of the camera stood his mom, greying hair pulled into a messy bun and her work-worn hands covered in dirt.

“Well, fuck nature.”

Remus laughed again, louder now. He rested his head on his arm, the guard rail digging into his skin as he looked down at Sirius. He was tired, but each time his eyes fluttered closed a particularly violent gust of wind shook the rig and woke him.

“Just come down here,” Sirius patted the mattress next to his bed. “You’re going to injure yourself and wouldn’t that look stupid on a medical report.”

***

Remus thought about arguing, but the hesitation only lasted a second, plucking the photograph from the wall before he climbed down.

“You were so cute!” Sirius gasped, pulling the photo from Remus’ hand to look at it closer. “Wait,” his gaze flicked back up to Remus’ face. “Why are you still wearing your work clothes?”

Remus glanced down at himself. Oh. “I guess I forgot,” he shrugged. “I just wanted to get to bed.” He felt grimy now his exhaustion induced delirium was slightly less than it had been when he’d stumbled into the room. The day's work was evidenced on the bright fluorescent material, and he wanted nothing more than for it to be gone.

Sirius blinked at him slowly. “How do you forget - In fact, no, I’m not even going to ask.”

Remus blushed as he gathered his favourite soft plaid trousers and hoodie from the cupboard his possessions resided in. The communal showers were volatile, either blisteringly hot or icy cold, yet Remus longed to stand under the water. There was no way he was risking it though. Visions of his naked self stranded in the shower, unable to evacuate, flashed through his mind. No, clean clothes would suffice. He cleared his throat, steeling himself. “Erm...can you look away? I don’t really like getting changed in front of people.”

Sirius had already shoved the duvet cover over his head before Remus could finish his sentence. “Go ahead,” he said, voice muffled through the material.

Remus smiled as he pulled his work clothes off. Perhaps Tonks had been right about Sirius after all.

***

“Who’s that?” Remus asked, pulling the sleeves of his too-big hoodie over his hands as in climbed onto the bed, pressing himself close to the wall.

“That’s…” Sirius almost started regaling the romantic tale that was James’ and Lily Potter’s relationship, closing his mouth abruptly when he realised Remus wasn’t indicating the more obvious photo of himself and Lily, but rather one that was tucked near the headboard, mostly obscured from view by his pillows.

“Sorry, I was being nosey. You don’t have to tell me,” Remus said, pulling his lower lip between his teeth.

Sirius laughed at that. “Well, you do have a reputation for needing to know everything.”

“I do not,” Remus frowned, obviously affronted.

He might have found the tunnelling stare intimidating once upon a time, but now he lifted an eyebrow, meeting the challenge easily.

“Alright, so maybe I do. But that’s just because I’m a nerd and I like to know how things work. I don’t need you to tell me personal things if you don’t want to,” Remus said, the tips of his cheeks reddening. Sirius was beginning to realise how easy it was to make the blush appear.

“The one you pointed at is me,” Sirius smiled sadly. “This is my little brother.” He leaned back, plucking the photo from the wall and indicated the smaller of the two individuals. Regulus was sat between Sirius’ legs, hands outstretched to grab the book Sirius was holding. He could almost hear Regulus’ protests at the attempt to skip a few pages. It was out of focus, taken on a cheap film camera, but even with that, Sirius loved it.

“You look so similar.”

“We did. I guess we still do. Or would.”

Remus looked at him, his head slightly cocked, his frown a confused mix of curiosity and sympathy. “Is he? When was…”

“Yeah, he’s dead.” Sirius put Remus out of his misery. He’d always found it funny how even the most intelligent people seemed to become bumbling idiots when it came to discussing death. “He was 18.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t kill him,” Sirius shrugged. He’d heard the apology time and time again, and usually he bit back the irritated quip. Something about Remus made him feel comfortable though, the retort slipping through his carefully tuned filter.

Remus looked at him again, quiet just long enough for Sirius to worry he’d caused offence. “It’s just a saying but I know you know that,” Remus said calmly. “You can be an arsehole about these things though. It’s kind of allowed.”

“It’s been a long time, I’m not sure that’s true anymore,” Sirius ran a finger over the photograph.

“I don’t think grief comes with a time limit,” Remus rebutted. “Do you want to talk about him?”

“Not today,” Sirius shook his head, closing his eyes tightly to will away the tears. He turned and stuck the photograph against the wall again, letting his fingers run carefully over the grainy image for a second. “That would involve telling you about my birth family and me running away to the Potter’s and so much stuff I just don’t want to talk about right now. Thanks for asking though.”

“That’s…” Remus paused. “A lot. Of course you don’t have to talk about it. Can I just ask if by ‘The Potter’s’ you mean -”

“James Potter. That crazy engineer you consult with all the time. Yep,” Sirius grinned at the thought of his friend, his brother. “The one and only. And his parents. My parents now.” He waved his hand vaguely. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you one day.”

“I’ll always listen if you want to, but no pressure.”

God, Sirius really did want to kiss this man.

***

“Tell me a secret,” Sirius said, cutting the silence that had fallen between them. At some point Sirius had ended up back under his sheets, Remus was lying down now too, legs curled close to his chest in what should have been an uncomfortable position, but he was prone to contorting himself into weird shapes. It had been commented on before. “Not a big one. Just something I wouldn’t know about you.”

Remus hummed. He felt safe with Sirius, but really, he didn’t know him that well. A thousand secrets ran through his mind, a lifetime of closely guarded thoughts to choose from. “I used to pretend to be a wolf.”

“That’s...interesting,” Sirius chuckled, tipping his head back and releasing a hauntingly accurate wolf imitation, kicking his legs in a child-like fashion. Just like that, Remus began to question whether the suave, aloof impression he had of the man was accurate at all.

“Thought I might as well get the really weird stuff out the way before you decided to like me,” Remus deadpanned.

“Well, if that’s as weird as you get then buckle up sweetie, because boy, oh boy, do I have some stories for you.”

“This is a test. If you pass that then I might let you learn some more,” Remus admitted. He found himself wanting to spill his entire life story, every bit of gritty trauma included, but he’d learned a long time ago, that would be a mistake. Most people couldn’t cope with him.

“I’ll smash it,” Sirius grinned, his features smoothing out into something more serious. “For real though. You don’t ever have to tell me anything, but if you do, I won’t run away. I promise.”

Don’t make promises that you can’t keep, Remus thought. “Thanks,” he said.

“So, the wolf? Is there more to that, or were you just a weird kid?” Sirius teased.

“I was a weird kid,” Remus laughed. “There is a story though. When I was little, I loved wolves, and when I had nightmares, my dad would tell me to pretend I was a wolf and nothing could hurt me. Sometimes we’d lie in my bed and howl until I was laughing too hard to be scared anymore. I never grew out of it. Not really. Sometimes, when I just need a break from things, I just go into my head and imagine my wolf pack and what we’d be getting up to.” He flexed his toes, a phantom pressure building within them whenever he was nervous, or embarrassed, or in this case, both. “See, I told you I’m weird.”

“That’s not weird,” Sirius protested. “I think I’d want to be a dog though. I guess they’re not that different when you think about it, but yeah, a dog that has a nice family and goes on all these adventures and gets spoiled.”

“Padfoot.”

“What?"

“That’d be a good name for you. When you’re a dog.” Remus didn't quite know where it had come from, but he liked the idea of getting to name Sirius' alter ego. He had stolen the idea from him after all, so it was only fair.

“Padfoot,” Sirius nodded. “I like it.”

***

“It’ll be over soon,” Sirius soothed, resisting the urge to tug Remus closer as he felt the other man tense with the latest bout of angry wind. Remus had no such qualms and burrowed himself into the heat of Sirius’ chest.

“You don’t know that.”

The words were distorted against Sirius’ chest, still, he heard them clear enough. Sirius shook his head with a fond exasperation. “I do know that you’re incredibly infuriating.”

“I only speak the truth,” Remus countered.

“Fine, I don’t know that. It’ll take however long it takes, just like those tomatoes of yours and it doesn’t really matter how long that is, because we’re safe. Trust me.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“Well, I would ask that you wait until we’re not having a near death experience before you shout at me,” Sirius laughed.

“Noted,” Remus nodded sleepily. “No shouting at Sirius whilst we’re drowning.”

Sirius refrained from letting the retort on the tip of his tongue loose, mindful of the fact it would probably just engage Remus in further conversation, and Remus needed to sleep. Dammit, Sirius needed to sleep too. A not - so - small part of him wanted to prod Remus awake, to ask him the myriad of questions Sirius had. What was this? Did Remus want to go on a date? Can I kiss you? Sirius would just have to wait. If he’d learned anything tonight, it was that. Guiltily, he hoped they didn’t wake up to still skies and a return to the normal business of the rig, where this conversation didn’t continue.

“No rush, okay, Mother Nature?” Sirius whispered into the dark. “No rush. We still have things to accomplish.”

[bangtanloverboys]

exposure therapy // ksj

summary - going on a ferris wheel as a way to get over your fear of heights alone, may not have been the best idea

paring - seokjin x female!reader

genre - fluff; strangers to lovers

prompt - meet-cute

word count - 928

warnings - reader has acrophobia (fear of heights), anxiety, seokjin is a sweetie, mentions of therapy 

authors note - while this is seokjin, don’t trust random cute strangers

bts ghostie drabble marathon

All your life you’d been afraid of heights, couldn’t even look out a window to enjoy the view from a second story window. Your therapist had the brilliant idea of exposure therapy; normally that would entail going up a small ladder, looking down a staircase from the second floor. Nope, your therapist decided to go straight to the extreme and recommend going to the carnival that was going through town that week and going on the ferris wheel. At first, you thought the idea was pretty okay. Losing control of the situation and forcing yourself to look out over a wobbly seat 40 feet in the air. Yeah, it seemed like a great idea!

So here you were, a mere few feet away from the front of the line and despite the burning urge to turn on your heels and run in the opposite direction, you continued forward. You were up next and your eyes fell on a sign that caused your whole plan to burn up in flames: no single riders. You came to the carnival alone. As the next seat opened up, the rider operator looked at you and pointed to the sign, about to repeat the rule but a voice from behind you cut him off.

“I’ll ride with her.” Your head whipped around to see a very tall and very handsome man behind you. “If that’s alright with you, that is?”

“Y-yeah,” you nodded.

With a shrug, the ride operator pulled the railing up for you and the stranger to walk up on the platform. You heard him say a few words to his group of friends before joining you up to be seated on the cart. He gestured for you to sit down first, you gave him a shy smile in thanks. As you were strapped into the seat, you were immediately reminded of what was going on. Panic spread throughout your body and before you even vocalize wanting to get off, the ride started and you started moving backwards. Your hands gripped on the railing, you weren’t even maybe 10 feet off the ground yet and dozens of scenarios of the ride malfunctioning ran through your brain. You shut your eyes, praying the ride would be over soon.

“Hey. . . you doing okay?” Concern laced the stranger’s voice as he spoke to you.

“I uh, I’m afraid of heights.” You chuckled lightly, feeling ridiculous. 

“And you decided to go on a ferris wheel alone?”

“Yeah, I know it was stupid, but I didn’t think and my therapist recommended exposure therapy so here I am and I’m regretting everything.” You rambled off to him, squeezing your eyes closed even tighter. 

“It’s okay, uh-” He shifted in his seat, causing the cart to tip forward.

“Please don’t move.” You gripped on tighter to the metal. 

“I’m sorry, my name is Seokjin.”

“I’m Y/N-!” The cart pushed upwards again, startling you.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” He asked.

You could feel his eyes on you, and with the thought you had in mind, you felt your cheeks begin to burn. “Uh, could you hold me? Please?” When you were met with immediate silence, you started to back track. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to-” The feeling of an arm wrapping around your shoulder had your brain freeze.

“You’ll feel more comfortable if you lean back.” 

You shook your head no.  

“I got you.” He assured you. “I know we just met and all, but I promise you I won’t let anything happen to you.” His voice was stable as his free hand covered one of yours.

“O-okay,” you loosened your grip on the railing, slowly leaning back. As you did so, the cart began to title with you. “No, I can’t. We’re gonna fall.”

“The cart is designed to shift with the weight. You’re gonna be okay. Just move slow. I’m right here.”  Taking a deep breath, you leaned back again, letting the cart shift as you moved back and settled into the arms of a complete stranger. “Alright, that’s good! You did awesome!”

“Thank you.” You whispered as one of your hands found his, squeezing onto it as a way to ground yourself.

“We’re almost at the top, do you wanna open your eyes? Conquer your fear?” Your heart melted at the kindness of Seokjin, who was a complete stranger to you, yet was holding you and even encouraging you to work on your acrophobia. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, only if you’re ready.”

“No, I-I don’t think so.” You muttered.

“Okay, do you want to continue talking or would you like me to be quiet?” He asked as a breeze blew past you. It wasn’t strong enough to move the cart, but it was just another reminder that you were far above the ground. 

“Keep talking. Please.”

“Alright. Well I’m here with my friends, Yoongi and Namjoon, I think they’re behind us. We were thinking about maybe getting some funnel cake after this, then playing some games.” As he spoke, his hand that was over your shoulder traced circles into your sleeve; you could tell he was doing anything he could to keep you from freaking out. 

“That sounds like fun.”

“Yeah? Maybe. . . you’d like to join us?” You could feel him tense up, nervous about your reaction. 

Turning your head to where his voice was coming up, you opened your eyes. Locking onto his face, you watched as a look of shock on his face burst into a grin. “I think I’d like that.”

[ilovebeingcalledawhore]

ABOUT YOU | JISUNG

Content: Fluff, Arranged Marriage Au, Angst

Summary: Fate works in wonderous ways and you believe in it, you just didn’t expect it to have the person you’ve been wanting to actually be yours.

Note: not proof read, comment the corrections

Let me start this story off with a little description of my crush, Park Jisung.

Tall, talented, funny, and hellishly handsome. Everyone in the year group has tried to get his attention, become his friend or girlfriend, they wanted to be involved with the particularly lonely boy.

Unfortunately for them, he ignored every single thing they said, he didn’t even give a nod, a smile, or a quiet reply. He just stared straight into the wall or the window as he tapped his fingers to the beat of the music playing on his headphones.

No one knew why he did the things he did but not one of them was planning on stopping. At this point, I reckon people have already made bets on who’s gonna make him talk first.

I did like him like most of the girls in my year group but I didn’t have the guts to do what they do. I couldn’t walk up to him and give him a ‘hi’, I couldn’t even give him a little grin because the moment I see him, my body seems to freeze.

I’m slowly getting over it, I don’t look at him as much nor think about him as much, sometimes he’s way too quiet that I forget he’s in my class. I guess that’s a good thing, right? Liking a guy who hasn’t talked to you for two years straight isn’t that hard to get over.

September 20, 2020 [9:00 am]

“Crap” I muttered, my brows furrowing and my heels dropping to the ground. There was no ladder near me, not even a stool. I tried again, I tip-toed and tried to grasp the red paint bottle but its plastic coverage just slipped against my fingers.

“Come on” I muttered in disbelief, my hands falling to my sides and the little strands of my hair falling against my face. “Thud!” My ears perked and my eyes widened at the sudden sound, the red paint bottle was now in front of me.

I turned my head wondering who helped me and the first person I saw gave me doubts...Jisung. He was just a meter away, his back facing me, his hands in his pockets and his earphones on full blast making me hear little bits of the song he’s playing.

“Did he just....” I started but didn’t continue, realizing that no one would answer my question anyway. I ignored the little incident and turned my body back to face the red paint. I flicked the cap open and squeezed a bit onto my palette.

“Y/n!” My body straightened in shock. “Geez, Soobin you scared me!” I replied to the tall boy beside me and he grinned, his eyes disappearing while his dimples deepened. “I was just going to ask you something” he started, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“Are you friends with Jisung?” The question was indeed out of the blue. “What are you talking—“ I was just about to reply when a deep, low, quiet voice replied for me. “What if we are?”

I turned my head around and his close presence made the hairs on my body stand. His neck just before my eyes, making me tilt my head back to really see him. It was Jisung.

Soobin’s eyes widened at the sudden interaction and even I couldn’t help but wonder what was happening. Beomgyu, the class president called Soobin over, so before he could say anything, I was left alone with the mysterious boy.

“Wait...why are you talking to me?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowing and my voice faltering. “Your father is the owner of Elite Studies isn’t he?” Jisung asked, pulling his earphones off his ear. “Yeah” I muttered, wondering if he was going to ask for money, especially since my father is pretty known.

“Well, I’ll say it now before you get the news at home”

“What?”

“We’re getting married”

-

September 20, 2020 [3:45 pm]

“Mom! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I asked in disbelief, my parents just sighing at the ruckus I made. “It’s just for a year, show the media you’re together then file a divorce” my father replied, the plea in his eyes making me stressed.

I don’t mind getting married to him, hell, I’d love to but I don’t know him, not a single bit of him and he doesn’t know me! Are we going to start talking at school? Is he going to give me rides? Will he propose? Is he going to hold my hand?

I don’t know and I'm scared that he’s not going to like me.

_

September 28, 2020 [11:30 am]

I tightly gripped on my royally white dress, the beautiful silk and lace being something I’ve never found myself in. I took deep breaths calming my pounding heart, the sound of cameras were already filling the magnificent venue and I didn’t know whether that was our paid photographers or the paparazzi.

“You’ll be fine” my dad whispered as I hooked my shaking hands around his arm. I nodded to him but I guess it was more directed to myself, I hope that I’ll be fine.

“Please welcome the bride” I heard someone say and the big double doors of the church opened, I slowly walked in with a smile, trying to convince everyone that everything was alright and I was having fun on my wedding day. The sound of the piano, violin, horns, and cheers entered my ears as I waltzed into the venue. It was gorgeous but what else did I expect from my perfectionist of a mom? “Focus” I hear my father whisper and my body straightened.

Jisung looked magnificent.

You know when you like someone and you start creating scenarios in your head? Well one of them was this and it was actually happening. I was getting married to him. The pounding of my heart worsened but not from nervousness. I was scared that if the butterflies in my stomach flapped their wings even harder I would fly.

I stood in front of him and the music stopped. Calmly taking my shaking hands, I give him a half hearted smile. I hear the priest speak but I can’t even register his words, one second I see my mom crying, the other I already have a ring on my finger and moments after that, his lips were against mine.

October 2 2020 [7:47 am]

“How’s it feel to be married to me?” Jisung asks with a grin, taking a sip of his coffee. We were at a famous coffee shop in the business district and we were well aware of the paparazzi inside and outside the store. I roll my eyes at him, looking out the window, giving a sneaky glance at the photographer inside her car, acting as if she was checking her camera's gallery.

“In all seriousness though, how is it?” Jisung asks and I turn my head to face him. I didn’t know if I should reply with a joke or with a normal phrase but I had to answer one way or another. “It’s...” I hesitate, not wanting to say the wrong word. “It’s interesting”

“How so?” He asks, his eyes connecting with mine. “Well, it's not everyday you get to marry someone you genuinely like” I replied feeling a little brave and I watched as his eyes widened. “You liked me and you didn’t even talk to me?” He said in disbelief and I chuckled nervously at him. “Well you already had like....millions of girls talking to you, what would I be compared to them?” I uttered out and he shook his head with a little grin, one that made my heart flutter.

“I swear Y/n, you should really start telling what you feel, I can’t believe I spent 2 years wondering if you liked me back”

"Stop tripping" I roll my eyes. After the time I've spent with him, I learned that he was one hell of a funny lad and what I liked most about that was how he laughed. The sound of it echoing through my ears before I sleep giving me the best dreams.

“But I’m not” Jisung replied, his eyes not leaving mine. I chuckle, looking away, taking a sip of my drink.

October 5 2020 [6:03 pm]

Today, we had to put on a show. A public dinner with the Park family could go either extremely smoothly or horribly but it was part of the deal.

“Ah welcome!” Mr. Park greeted us as we entered the venue. Mr. Park was still sitting on his chair because only his black crane kept him standing. He wasn’t that old but he was weakening, sometimes I’d see Jisung holding him up, even on the wedding day, I watched as he sat still on his chair, chatting away, only having his wife fetch food for him.

He couldn’t stand, so I walked towards him and gave him a smile. Greeting him out of respect.

Here’s the thing, the place was wrapped in velvet and gold. It was a ‘private’ room away from the other customers but its wall was made of glass. Once the people from outside look up the second floor of the fancy restaurant, they’d see us but that’s exactly the point.

I immediately gave a light hug to Mrs. Park and walked towards Jisung. As if it was natural, he stood up and wrapped me in his arms, leaving a peck on my forehead. I let him finish his act then I sat on the fancy chair beside him.

“Go and order whatever you want” His dad welcomed us, so I gladly took the menu and as I read through the thick black and gold fonted paper, I felt Jisung’s hands go over my shoulders, pulling me closer to him.

“What do you want?” I asked pertaining to the menu and warily sending a look to my parents just to see them chatting away. “I want you” he leaned into my ear as he whispered that and I glared at him. Well correction...I tried to glare at him.

“You’re stupid” I whisper and I felt him reply with a little peck on my head. “Stupid for you babe” I cringed at the name. “Don’t call me babe” I complained and he smiled. “What do you want me to call you?” he asked and I thought about it. Might as well get a special name for each other since we're doing this for a year.

“How about…...love?” I questioned, raising my brow at him. “I like that...love” he replied and I chuckled. Suddenly I felt eyes staring at me so I looked at Jisung just to see him going through the menu, his arm still wrapped around my shoulder.

So I looked up front and I found my parents and his parents staring at us with a smile. “Maybe it isn’t so fake after all” his mother whispered to my mom but I heard and...I felt chills running down my spine.

October 17 2020 [1:07 pm]

You were having lunch at his home, this being something you’re now used to. It was quiet and calm, your parents discussing about making a joint building and adding more staff meanwhile you were there reading a book as you shoved the pasta down your throat.

You hear Jisung laugh so you turn your head to side to see what he was laughing at, turns out it was you. “What are you looking at?” you scrunch your nose and he chuckled a little louder. The boy leaned closer and placed his lips on your ear, it was something you were used to at this point.

“That’s not the only thing you can shove down your throat, love” he whispered and your eyes widened. “Jisung!” you squealed making both your parents stop and give you guys a look. “It’s nothing” Jisung laughed so they disregarded it and continued their conversation.

November 10 2020 [10:06 am]

Today we were visiting Jisung’s family to say a little goodbye to them since they were going on a holiday trip in Greece. I wasn’t really in the mood since I was enjoying binge-watching this show called “I-land” but my mom had to interrupt and stop me.

“Where’s Jisung?” I asked Mrs. Park and she pointed towards his room. “Ah” I nodded and walked towards the white double doors of his batcave. I calmly walked towards it, making no sound and no fuss but I heard something that made me halt.

I heard sniffles, loud ones and a sad groan that made my heart beat fasten. ‘Was he crying?’ I thought to myself and I hesitated. Do I still walk in? Or should I wait for him to calm down? Maybe he’s just watching a video with someone crying? to say it simply. I didn’t know what to do.

So I decided to just talk to him anyway.

I knock on the door then hear him shuffling, the sniffles come to a halt and the tension inside the room emitted outside his door then seconds later, it clicked open.

-Narrator’s POV-

You noticed the way he wiped the dried tears on his skin and how he splashed water on his face to make him look livier. The redness of his cheeks and eyes still said otherwise so without a word you open your arms and wrap it around his torso.

The boy softens against your touch.

You get inside the room and shut the door, guiding the shaking boy to the bed. “What’s wrong?” you asked and he shook his head. “Please tell me”

“I can’t handle seeing you in pain” you feel sadness bubbling up your body and you feel him melting in your arms deeper, if he softened even more you’d fuse into one another. The boy sobbed into your neck, the tears dripping down your skin, painfully slow.

Still, he didn’t speak.

“You’ll be okay my love” the words rolled off your tongue easily like you were meant to say it. “Now, can you tell me what’s wrong?” you ask and you feel him nod into your neck. “I…” he starts. “I have to take my father’s place as the CEO…’cause he’s ill...he’s dying”

The world seemed to stop at that moment, he feels your body turn tense and worried. “My goodness” you mutter and he cries harder. You shut your eyes, sighing in frustration but still trying to keep calm for him.

“Fuck it” you mutter, gently cupping his face, raising it, making your eyes meet. The tears rolling out his eyes landed on your hands but you didn’t mind. You didn’t break eye-contact, you stayed there and drowned yourself in his tears.

“Jisung….I know you and you’re strong, I’m here for you...I love you”

You feel his jaw clench and the tips of his lips lifting, you expect him to say something as his mouth parts but instead he pushes your hand off and kisses you.

And you kissed him back.

[f0rever15elf]

I hope this weekend finds you well! I was hoping you could write hcs on the guys with a short s/o. Who would tease? Who would find it adorable? Who has a size kink? Teasing doesn’t bother me much when it’s from close friends but sometimes people can be jerks, especially when they’re not someone your particularly close with. Anyway, love your blog!

I’m so sorry that this is so late! Things have been rather wild lately with the holidays, but I hope that you still enjoy this! I’m on the short squad so this made me really happy to write! <3 

Head Canon Masterlist

When you’re short

Whiskey: Oh my LORD he thinks you’re just the absolute cutest thing he ever did see!! You’re so small and he can just wrap himself around you completely and he will go on and on and ON about how adorable you are. I don’t think he would be the kind to tease you about your size, he’s just too overwhelmed with how cute he finds you. And you look so pretty in the little outfits he buys you. One of his favorite things to do is come up behind you and rest his chin on top of your head while he wraps his arms around you. It does give him a heart attack, however, every time you climb up on something to reach something up high (”We have a ladder, why are you climbing on the counter?!” before lifting you off to get whatever you need)

Javi: Javi would tease, absolutely. He like seeing how flustered it makes you, but he also knows how to read you so he knows when to ease up on the teasing and praise you instead. He really does love how small you are, and that comes from his protective streak. You’re easier to shield away from things when he can hid you behind him. He does tend to panic sometimes if he ever loses you in a crowd, however. When he finds you again, you’ll be glued to his side. Your size brings with it endearing name related to your smallness, including a few that you’re pretty sure he made up. 

Frankie: SIZE KINK YESSIR. He didn’t know he had a size kink until he met you. He can remember the day it happened too. You came out of the bedroom wearing one of his shirts and it reached your knees and something inside him snapped. He likes being in positions where he’s over you, partially because of his desire to keep you safe at all times, and partially because he loves seeing how small you look under him. Frankie wouldn’t really tease you about your height, he loves it way too much. You do notice that when you move in, he moves the things you use more often down to the shelves you can easily reach without being prompted. He also doesn’t call attention to it cause he’s a sweetie like that. 

Ezra: He definitely has a size kink too. But it’s more of a torturous slow burn type thing. He loves watching your reach for things up on your tip toes, the way your shirt rides up and the look of focus and determination on his face just really gets him going. He has this nasty little habit of sneaking up behind you (how is he so quiet?!) and pressing himself against you while you’re stretched out before whispering the most profane and poetic things you have ever heard in your ear and he’ll take you against that counter if you’ll let him. Of course, after the fact, he always helps you get down whatever it is you need. He also will straight up ask you to wear his shirts because he loves seeing how small you look in them. You’re adorable and sexy and he wants you to feel confident in that. 

Oberyn: If the gods made it, then it delights him. Size doesn’t really matter to him, but he does like how small your hands are in his when he walks the courtyards with you. He also likes being able to wrap around you so easily when the two of you are lazing about as he is wont to do. Any insecurities you ever show about your small stature are instantly washed away the moment he opens his mouth to speak to you. He adores you, treasures you, and he will show that to you in any way he can. He won’t ever tease you about your height, especially if you’re insecure about it. He does make sure that all your gowns/robes are properly hemmed by the castle’s seamstresses so you never risk tripping. 

Din: He likes your shortness. You’re easier to protect, and you can reach into smaller spaces that he’s too tall to weasel his way into. But he also fins you exceedingly adorable. You can curl up in his chair like a loth kitten and he’s found you numerous times sleeping there with Grogu. I wouldn’t say he has a size kink necessarily, but the fact that you can curl up in his lap so easily makes his heart do a weird stuttering thing that it’s never done before. He’s a protector, and he likes feeling like he can completely protect you. 

Pero: You’re small, so he has to help you with many things. Not that he minds, especially with you what him so closely when he’s doing a task that your height makes difficult. He preens under the attention. He’s DEFINITELY into the size difference. He’s a man of few words, expect when you’re being intimate with one another, then it’s a slew of words about how small you are and how beautiful, how you fit so well beneath him. He’ll go on and on while he’s pleasuring you and he loves to see how small you look beneath him. He’ll occasionally tease you about it, but more often than not it’s an exasperated sigh when he walks in on you trying to get something up high while balanced precariously on some stacked stools. He’ll pick you up off of them, set you to the side, and get whatever you need. You’re stubborn. But he likes that too. 

Max: He. Will. Tease. You. All the live long day. He’s taken to making his own coffee all the time because one time you got so fed up with him putting things up out of your reach like you’re some overgrown toddler that you started putting garlic into his coffee. He was sick all day after that. But that didn’t stop the teasing. He doesn’t really verbalize it in an endearing way, but he really does like the size difference between the two of you. Especially in bed. You’re already fragile compared to him, so it’s not that that he’s worried about, he just likes how tiny you are. It sends him on a very odd power trip, especially since he knows that once all other things are equal between the two of you, he’ll still have height as an advantage. And he talks about that. Often. Jackass. 

Maxwell: (Disclosure, I haven’t seen ww84 yet, so I’m going with the characterization I have of him for my fic until I see the film) Oh all the better to dress you up when you’re short and adorable! All your clothes will be perfectly tailored to your figure, nothing to long for you. He wouldn’t tease, that’s not really his thing. He does like the feeling of power or control that being taller than you give him, though, and that ends up riling him up sometimes at home, especially if your traipse around his his clothes. But mostly he just like dressing you in nice things and seeing you smile when they fit perfectly. 

Marcus: He’s the perfect mix of the occasional teasing peppered with praises and adoration. You height makes you perfect for cuddling and he takes full advantage of that quite often. A lot like Frankie, when/if you move in with him, he moves your more frequently used items to the lower shelves and you notice a new step ladder next tot he washing machine that wasn’t there before you moved in. Marcus has less of a thing for your height, and more of a thing for when you wear heels (if you wear them, please wear them, oh god please wear them). If you don’t wear heels, that’s ok too, what’s most important to him is your comfort. His favorite thing to do with you, however, to compensate for your height is to pick you up and sit you on the counter so your faces are more level with one another. then his lips are on yours and time loses all meaning.