#what’s your favorite comic to read and relax to?

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK Men React to Seeing You in Their Clothes

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader; Yuta x fem!reader; Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: fluff over fluff, I'm pretty sure I already wrote something like this but I can't find it anymore lol, all scenarios talk about the clothes of the said jjk men being big on you so please don't read if this isn't what you vibe with (but feel free to let me know if you want a version in which their clothes actually fit reader quite well!)

Gojo Satoru

The apartment is unusually quiet as you move through the living room, your bare feet padding lightly across the cool floor. Gojo had left early this morning to deal with some “business,” leaving you alone with nothing but a mess of his belongings scattered around. You’re not one to complain though - cleaning up after him has become second nature after spending so much time together.

As you tidy up his place, you come across one of his oversized hoodies. It’s sprawled across the back of a chair, still slightly wrinkled from when he wore it the night before. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the fabric, and for reasons you can’t quite explain, you find yourself reaching for it.

It’s soft, much softer than you expected. You hold it for a moment, staring at it thoughtfully before a mischievous grin tugs at your lips. You slip the hoodie over your head, the fabric swallowing you whole. The sleeves are comically long, almost covering your hands completely, and the hemline reaches down to your thighs. It’s so big that it feels like you’re wearing a blanket, and despite yourself, you giggle at the sight of your reflection in the hallway mirror.

You sit down on the couch, pulling your legs up under the hoodie, and let yourself relax into the comfort of wearing something that smells like him. His signature cologne that follows him around wherever he goes, that makes your heart skip a beat every time you smell it. To be honest, you really miss him. These past weeks were so busy that you didn’t really get the chance to see him more than 2 hours before passing out sleeping. What you’d do for a whole afternoon, just you and him…

Not long after, you hear the oh so accustomed sound of the door unlocking, followed by the familiar voice of Satoru calling out, “I’m home!”

You stiffen for a moment, wondering how he’ll react, but you can’t hide now. Fuck, you never wore his clothes before. After all, they belong to him and you have no right to grab his stuff as you please.

Before you can say anything to defend yourself, Gojo steps into the living room, his bright blue eyes immediately locking onto you.

There’s a beat of silence. Then, a slow, amused grin spreads across his face.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he teases, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

His sunglasses are perched on his head, revealing his crystalline eyes that seem to glow with delight.

“Did you raid my closet while I was gone?”

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool despite the sudden warmth creeping up your neck.

“Your place was cold. Figured I’d borrow something.”

Gojo doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he walks over to you, crouching in front of the couch as he eyes you up and down. His grin widens as he takes in the way the hoodie completely engulfs you, making you look even smaller than usual.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, laced with something playful but undeniably affectionate.

He reaches out, tugging on one of the oversized sleeves gently.

“In fact, I think it suits you better than it does me.”

You scoff, though your heart skips a beat at the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world.

“You think everything looks good on me.”

“That’s because it does.”

His grin is infuriatingly confident, but there’s a softness in his gaze that makes your breath catch.

“But you, wearing my clothes? I think that might be my favorite look.”

He leans closer, his nose brushing against your temple before pressing a soft kiss there.

“You can keep it if you want,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

“I don’t think I’m getting it back anyway.”

Megumi Fushiguro

It’s early morning, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting a soft glow over Megumi’s small apartment. He’s still asleep, his dark hair a mess of unruly strands as he breathes softly beside you. You’ve been staying with him for the weekend, a rare break from the chaos of jujutsu sorcery.

As you quietly slip out of bed, careful not to wake him, you feel the cool air hit your skin. Without thinking, you look around the room for something to cover yourself with. Your eyes land on one of Megumi’s plain black shirts, tossed haphazardly over the back of a chair. It’s oversized, much bigger than anything you’d typically wear, but you shrug and grab it anyway.

Slipping it over your head, the fabric is soft and familiar, carrying the faint scent of him. It hangs loosely on your frame, the sleeves too long and the hem falling halfway down your thighs. You glance at yourself in the mirror, a small smile tugging at your lips. There’s something comforting about wearing his clothes, like having a part of him with you even when he’s asleep.

As you turn back toward the bed, you freeze. Megumi’s awake. His dark eyes are half-lidded, still clouded with sleep as he watches you from the bed. You can’t quite read his expression -it’s a mixture of surprise, confusion, and something else you can’t place.

“You’re up early,” he mutters, his voice still thick with sleep.

You shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“Couldn’t sleep. I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed your shirt.”

Megumi blinks, his gaze drifting over you slowly. He doesn’t say anything right away, but you can see the way his eyes linger on the way the shirt swallows you, how it looks like you’re drowning in fabric. After a long moment, he finally speaks, his voice quieter than before.

“It looks good on you,” he finally speaks out, a little awkwardly, as if he’s not quite sure how to compliment you.

“Better than it does on me.”

You can’t help but laugh at how flustered he seems, even though he’s trying to play it cool.

“Really? I think it’s a little big.”

Megumi shakes his head, sitting up in bed and running a hand through his messy hair.

“No. It’s perfect.”

He pauses for a moment before adding, almost shyly,

“You should wear my stuff more often.”

His words catch you off guard, and you raise an eyebrow at him, surprised. Even though you know all too well that Megumi Fushiguro has a soft spot for you, you never really thought about stealing or borrowing his stuff. After all, he is the guy who slaps the back of Yuji’s head each and every day over stealing his sandwich or equipment. And now…he’s telling you straightforward that he wants you to wear his shirts?

“You want me to?”

He looks away, his usual stoic mask slipping just a bit as a faint blush creeps up his cheeks.

“I mean... yeah. It suits you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his admission. Megumi isn’t one for big, flowery declarations, but this, this small, almost hesitant compliment, is enough to make your chest warm. You walk over to him, climbing back into bed and curling up beside him like you always do after waking up.

“Well, if you insist,” you mutter teasingly, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“I might just steal more of your clothes.”

Megumi huffs, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Go ahead,” he mumbles, tugging at the hem of his loose shirt.

“I don’t mind.”

Yuta Okkotsu

You’ve been staying at Yuta’s apartment for the past few days, crashing at his place while you’re both on a break from missions. It’s been nice: quiet, peaceful, just the two of you enjoying each other’s company without the usual chaos of jujutsu high looming over you.

It’s late in the evening now, and you’ve just gotten out of the shower, feeling refreshed after a long day. As you towel off your hair, you realize you forgot to grab something to wear. Your suitcase is still in the living room, and you don’t really feel like walking out there in just a towel.

Your groan in frustration over your usual absent-mindlessness, eyes landing on one of Yuta’s old sweatshirts, folded neatly on the chair by his desk. It’s a little worn, clearly well-loved, and the idea of wearing something of his brings a smile to your face. Yuta definitely wouldn’t mind you wearing one of his shirts, right? And even if he did…you’d love to see that little blush creep up his face.

Without thinking twice, you pull the sweatshirt over your head. It’s oversized, the sleeves long enough to cover your hands, and the fabric is soft and cozy against your skin.

You’re adjusting the sleeves when the door creaks open slightly. You look up just as Yuta steps into the room, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees you.

“Oh, hey-” he starts, but then he freezes, his gaze locking onto the sweatshirt you’re wearing.

His face flushes almost instantly, a deep red creeping up his cheeks as he stares at you.

“Uh… is that…?”, Yuta stammers, clearly flustered.

You glance down at the sweatshirt and smile sheepishly.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I forgot to grab my clothes, and this looked comfortable.”

Yuta blinks, his face still bright red, but he quickly shakes his head.

“No! I mean, I don’t mind at all! It’s just… you look… um…”

He trails off, his eyes flicking away as if he’s too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

You giggle softly, stepping closer to him, to tease the hell out of him even more. That poor innocent boy who doesn’t even dare looking your direction when you stumble in the bathroom in the morning with noting but a shirt and panties on.

Even though you’ve been together for over a year by now.

“I look… what?”

Yuta clears his throat, still avoiding your gaze.

“You look… really cute,” he mutters, barely audible.

“In my sweatshirt, I mean.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you can’t help but smile as you reach out and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks, Yuta.”

He finally meets your gaze, his face still red but his expression softening as he squeezes your hand back.

“You can wear my clothes anytime you want,” he says quietly, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

You grin, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I might just take you up on that.”

Yuta chuckles, his arms wrapping around you in return as he pulls you close.

 “I wouldn’t mind,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Not at all.”

Nanami Kento

It’s late, and Nanami is still out on a mission. You’ve been waiting for him to come home, but the clock is ticking past midnight, and exhaustion is beginning to catch up with you. After all, you’ve had a long and exhausting day at work yourself.

You’re curled up on the couch, half-asleep, when the chill of the evening air prompts you to grab something warmer to wear.

Your own clothes are in the bedroom, and you don’t feel like moving that far. Instead, your eyes land on one of Nanami’s neatly folded dress shirts, sitting on the back of a chair. It’s probably not the warmest option, but the idea of wearing something of his feels comforting, like having a part of him with you while you wait for him to return.

You slip the shirt on, the crisp fabric soft against your skin. It’s too big, of course, the sleeves hanging past your wrists and the hem falling almost to your knees, but it’s cozy in its own way. You curl up on the couch again, pulling the sleeves over your hands and breathing in the faint scent of him that still lingers on the fabric.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until the sound of the front door opening stirs you awake. You sit up groggily, blinking as Nanami steps inside, looking tired but unharmed. He pauses when he sees you, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in the sight of you wearing his shirt.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. Then, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of Nanami’s lips.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he observes, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.

You rub your eyes sleepily, nodding.

“It was cold, and I didn’t feel like getting up.”

Nanami walks over to you, his expression soft as he takes in the sight of you.

 “It suits you,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.

“I didn’t expect to come home to this.”

You shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“If you don’t like it, I can-”

“I like it,” he cuts in, his tone firm but gentle.

He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before his hand lingers at your cheek.

“I like it very much.”

You smile, leaning into his touch as you look up at him.

“I might have to borrow your clothes more often, then.”

Nanami chuckles softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek before he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You’re welcome to them,” he breathes out.

“Though I have to admit, you make my clothes look much better than I do.”

You laugh softly, your heart warming at his rare display of affection.

“I doubt that.”

Nanami shakes his head, his eyes soft and filled with affection as he looks at you.

“It’s true. But regardless, you’re welcome to them anytime” he insists.

With that, he sits down beside you on the couch, pulling you into his side as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. You snuggle into him, the warmth of his body and the comfort of his shirt making you feel safe and content.

“Thank you, Kento,” you whisper, closing your eyes as exhaustion starts to pull you back into sleep.

Nanami presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice low and soothing as he murmurs,

“Anytime, love.”

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[mochiwei]

Time well spent! 🪟🐈☕️💕

[strang3lov3]

Lookalike

Soft Dom!Joel x Fem Reader

Summary: Joel stumbles upon your dirty mag, noticing your favorite pages bear a striking resemblance to himself! Takes place in Jackson sometime after TLOU

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI SMUT!!!  This is not fluffy even a little bit, kind of pervy joel, kind of sleazy too, smut, female masturbation, cunnilingus, soft dom!joel, shy reader, consensual PIV sex, humiliation kinda, joel loves a full bush, begging, joel is dominant but not like, aggressive?? let me know if I missed any

A/N: Y’all, I am very very very proud of this one! Please enjoy this depravity. And have a lovely holiday weekend <3 I am just a few shy of 1k followers, but consider this my thank you for all of your support 😸💗 

Edit: we’re at 1k!!! Thank you so much holy shit!!

If you really like this story, please leave me a comment! Check out my masterlist

Javier Peña is Joel’s pornstar doppelgänger. I don’t make the rules.

After a long day, Joel was ready to relax and enjoy a bonfire with you. It’s how you spent a lot of summer nights in Jackson, you and Joel and sometimes Ellie just sitting around the fire, sharing stories and shooting the shit.

Tonight Ellie was at Dina’s having a sleepover, leaving just you and Joel together. It was nice to spend nights alone with Joel. Sometimes you’d talk about anything and everything and other nights you’d just share a comfortable silence. After everything you went through on your way to Jackson, it was nice to enjoy some peaceful nights with Joel. 

Upstairs, Joel changed into some plaid pajama pants and a slim fitting t-shirt and made his way through the hall and to the top of the staircase, his heavy footsteps alerting you of his presence. 

“Joel?” you shouted to him from the kitchen. You were preparing a snack in preparation for the bonfire. “Can you grab me a hair tie please?” 

You were peeling apples and slicing bread to make pudgy pies for you and Joel to share. It’s one of the campfire snacks he introduced to you and Ellie. Back before the outbreak, he said, people would use canned pie filling or peanut butter and Nutella as filling for the toasted sandwiches. Now you had to get more creative, so you opted for spiced and sugared apple slices. You preferred berries, but apples were Joel’s favorite filling for dessert. You didn’t mind. He used to make these for his daughter.

“Where can I find one?” he called back. 

“On my bedside table, right by the lamp,” you stepped closer to the staircase so you didn’t have to raise your voice as much. “It should just be a plain black one.”

Joel nodded and walked to your room. At your bedside table, he didn’t see any hair ties. Just some jewelry and a comic book Ellie lent you that she wanted you to read. Perhaps it was in the drawer? 

 Joel opened the drawer and rummaged around your belongings. There was a bottle of your favorite almond scented lotion from the local soap maker, your journal and some pencils, but no hair tie. He should have called out to you to ask if there was another spot your hair tie might be at, but curiosity got the better of him. He knew it was wrong to snoop through your personal belongings, but he couldn’t help himself.

Joel pulled the drawer out a little further and lifted your journal up. His eyes widened at what he saw. It wasn’t your hair tie, that was for damn sure.

 Under your journal was an ancient porno magazine, probably from the 70s or 80s. Joel didn’t bother checking for a date. He had to know what the hell was in this old ass magazine that you were using to get yourself off. He remembered these kinds of magazines from when he was a teenager. They were often tacky and somewhat over the top compared to the explicit videos he’d watched on the internet before the outbreak, but they did the job. Who was he to judge?

Joel sat on your bed and flipped through the pages of the magazine. There were women in frilly chiffon lingerie with bushy and unkempt pussies, just the way he liked them. That was one nice thing about the outbreak, a lot of women ditched the beauty standards of the 90s and 2000s and went au naturale. Joel loved it as a young man then and he still loves it now, decades later.

The magazine nearly flipped itself open to one particular centerfold. It was a man fucking a woman from behind, her back arched and hair covering her face. They were at the edge of the bed, her fingers gripping the retro floral duvet cover. She was beautiful, but it wasn’t her who captured Joel’s attention. It was the man. 

He was tall, dark, and handsome with a thick downturned mustache, not unlike Joel’s. He had dark hair and dark eyes as well. Even his nose was similar to Joels, strong and sharp with a curve. Joel couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. The pages were worn and the corners were dog eared, leading Joel to believe that these must be your favorite pages. His ego soared, as if it needed to be any bigger. He always had a feeling that you had a thing for him.

Downstairs, you were growing irritated. “What is taking so long?” you muttered to yourself. Joel was taking forever to find the hair tie you had so neatly placed next to the lamp on your bedside table. After turning off the burner of the stove, you paced through the kitchen and up the stairs.

 “You are such a man, you know? You guys are terrible at looking for things. If it was a snake it would have bit you,” you grumbled out, half talking to yourself and half talking to Joel. You opened your mouth to continue speaking as you walked into your room but froze when you saw Joel on the bed, thumbing through the pages of your dirty secret. 

“I found your spank bank,” Joel taunted with sarcasm, not yet looking at you. He flipped through a couple more pages before turning to face you, his intense stare meeting your flustered expression. 

You were frozen in embarrassment, completely unable to speak, unable to move. Your face felt like it was on fire and you could hear your heart pound in your ears. 

Joel’s low and gravelly voice filled the silence. “Didn’t mean to embarrass ya, baby. It’s okay. Human nature,” he winked at you with a crooked smile. 

You quickly stepped over to him and tried tugging the magazine out of his hands, but he held on tightly. “Joel,” you pleaded as your sweaty fingers slipped off of the paper.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chided you. “This dude here kinda looks familiar, doesn’t he?” Joel looked at you with a knowing expression as humiliation filled your chest. Yeah, he looks just fucking like you. Leave me alone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joel,” you muttered angrily. You were about to burst into flames, whether from embarrassment or anger you didn’t know. You didn’t care. How dare your body put your shame and embarrassment on display? You were giving Joel exactly the kind of sick satisfaction he absolutely did not deserve. 

“Oh, baby. I think you know exactly what I’m talkin’ about. Look at how you’ve dog-eared these pages,” he used his pointer finger to trace the bent triangles at the corners of the pages. “Guy looks just like me, doesn’t he? Is that what you like so much about these pages?” his southern drawl had your stomach doing flips. “I know they’re your favorite, magazine practically opened right up to them.”

You ignored his question. “The pages were like that when I found the magazine,” you tried lying, but it was a futile attempt. This was bullshit. Joel was the one who was caught red handed, and yet you were bearing the brunt of the humiliating situation. Only Joel Miller could spin this situation to work out in his favor.

“Sure, sweetheart,” you reached for the magazine again, but Joel pulled it out of your reach. “You know baby, you didn’t have to fantasize with a dirty old magazine if you wanted to fuck me. All you had to do was ask.”

You said nothing, just glared at him. Joel wore a loathsome smirk as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

“Wish I knew this is what you were usin’ to get yourself off at night. All those pretty noises, all this time. They were all for me, weren’t they?”

Any words you could think of got caught in your throat, it felt like dry swallowing a pill. You just looked at Joel with pleading eyes, begging him to stop making you feel like a fool. If you weren’t so embarrassed, you’d be yelling at him for rifling through your private belongings and calling him presumptuous asshole for insinuating you fantasized about him. Of course, he was entirely correct in his assumption. You were completely and utterly infatuated with him. Even when you weren’t using his doppelgänger to get yourself off, you were thinking of him all day long. 

 “Please,” you finally choked out, feeling tears prick your eyes. You couldn’t take any more of this torture. “Just stop.”

“Oh, sweet girl,” he spoke with a soothing tone. Joel placed a hand on your thigh and twiddled his fingers along the fabric of your pajamas. “You know I’m just gonna keep buggin’ you until you tell me what I want to hear.” Joel looked at you with his sparkling brown eyes, darkened with lust. “So what do you like about these pages, baby?”

Turning your face towards your lap, you whispered your response to his prodding question. “I like the way he’s fucking her,” If that’s all it’d take to make him stop, might as well spill your guts.

“Yeah, I do too. It’s sexy, isn’t it?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, glancing at the familiar image. Joel was 100% right. Those were certainly your favorite pages. You didn’t even need them anymore, the picture was tattooed on your brain. “I like how the man looks.” you admitted with bravery.

“I bet you do. Because he looks like me, right?”

You nodded your head shyly. You couldn’t believe yourself, giving up and letting Joel win. He’d never let you live this down. But maybe if you butter him up a little he’ll let you off easier. “You’re more handsome, though,”

“Oh, baby. Gonna make me blush,” Joel replied to you with a saccharine smile. He really did seem genuinely flattered by your comment. “This is really what you look at when you’re playing with your pussy?”

“Yeah, kind of,” you say, feeling some confidence fill your chest. “I pretend it’s you fucking me like that.”

“Is that right?”

“Mhm,”

“You’re such a good girl for me, baby. I like knowin’ you think of me like that,” he praises you for finally letting go of your embarrassment. He doesn’t only want to tease you. If this is what you fantasized about, he was gonna make your dreams come true. 

Joel takes one of your hands in his own and moves it to your center, pressing your fingers against your core. You gasp at the feeling of your wetness on your pajama pants. “Think you can do somethin’ for me?”

“What?” you murmur.

“I want you to give me a show, baby. Show me how you touch yourself when you’re lookin’ at that magazine,” Apprehension fills your bones once again at his words. “Don’t be nervous, sweetheart. I just wanna see how pretty you look when you come. And after you do that, I’ll fuck you just like how he’s doin’. What do you say?”

“Just like, touch myself?” you laugh awkwardly at his request. This cannot be happening. Right?

Joel sets the magazine down and helps you to the top of the bed. He leans you against the pillows and kisses your lips for a second, and every time his tongue mingles with your own your anxiety melts away, little by little. This is all so surprising, maybe he does really want to make you feel good.

He kisses you gently and with care, using his lips to encourage you to let go again. He kisses the side of your mouth, then your jaw, your neck, and down your body before lifting up your pants and looking at you expectedly, asking permission to remove your clothing. You nod and he helps you out of your pajamas. It’s all so sudden and you feel exposed, all naked and laid out for Joel.

“You’re beautiful,” Joel says earnestly as he takes one of your wrists and guides your hand to your needy pussy, encouraging you to show him what you look like when you’re whimpering at the thought of him in the middle of the night. You don’t touch yourself yet, though. You cover your center with your hand, slightly embarrassed by the thick tuft of hair surrounding your vulva.

“I haven’t shaved in forever,” you say sheepishly. It’s kind of silly, worrying about body hair at the end of the world. But you can’t help it.

“That’s alright, sweetheart” Joel says as he reaches for the magazine and flips to one of the first pages he saw, a woman spread eagle with her full bush on display. She’s smiling and radiates confidence. “See? It’s a beautiful thing. It’s how they’re meant to be.”

You’re skeptical. “Do you really think so?” 

“Of course I do. I love your pussy, it’s beautiful just how it is,” Joel grips your thighs and parts your legs, and your fingers gently drop to touch your dripping center. Joel reaches forward and places his hand over yours, helping you circle your clit with your middle finger. It’s slow at first and you squeeze your eyes shut, still feeling slightly awkward. Masturbating for someone else to watch is completely different from sex. You feel vulnerable, like you’re being studied under a microscope. You don’t feel that way for long, though.

Joel continues to help you circle your clit until he senses you becoming more confident, then removes his hand to watch you do your thing. Your fingers swirl around your hole as you gather your slick, then travel up again to rub your clit in those same circles he helped you create. You let out little gasps and whimpers, and it’s music to Joel’s ears. Finally, he has an image to match with the moans and other noises he hears from your room.

Usually you can get yourself off fairly quickly but with Joel in front of you, it takes a little longer. You open your eyes and peek at him. His dark and hungry eyes are focused on your center, but they flick up to your own. He smirks devilishly at you for a half second then goes back to watching your actions, almost obsessively. He is obsessed.

The sight of him pushes you closer to the edge, and he watches your pussy twitch as you finger your clit even faster. His expression changes then. He’s no longer looking at you with adoration and lust. Joel looks angry and jealous, with a furrowed brow and a scowling frown. You tilt your head slightly in confusion but before you can think Joel lunges forward and rips your hand away from your cunt, pinning it next to your torso. 

“Let me taste you?” he whispers. You nod hurriedly in response. Lick me, touch me, do anything.

He presses a kiss to your clit and you gasp in surprise. “This is my pussy now,” he growls. Now that he knows what you look like touching yourself for him, he can’t just sit there and watch you anymore. Joel’s desperate, he needs to make you come. “From now on, you’re only gonna come when I say so. Do you understand?”

You mumble incoherently and Joel swats your thigh, not satisfied with your answer. “Do you understand?” he repeats, his voice dark and serious.

“Yes, Joel,”

“Good girl. You just relax now, let me take care of you,” he instructs you. Your head falls to the pillow, and you let out a soft exhale as Joel wraps his strong arms around your thighs and pulls your pussy to his face. Joel inhales your scent deeply, enjoying your aroma. 

He licks a long stripe from your slick hole all the way to your clit, flattening his tongue against you. He licks every inch of you, memorizing your folds with his deft tongue. When he’s satisfied with the way he’s worked you up, he focuses on your clit, flicking it with his tongue before inserting two fingers inside of you. 

“Joel,” you gasp out, hands reaching for his salt and pepper curls. Your thighs clamp around his head and he removes his hands from your body to spread them out again. 

“You stay open for me now,” he commands. He plunges his fingers back inside you and curls them upward, hitting that spot that makes your knees weak and your eyes see stars. You moan loudly when Joel’s lips attach to your clit once more, this time gently sucking on the sensitive bud. He’s drunk on your taste, completely addicted to your flavor. His tongue continues dancing on your center and you pull him close to you, rutting your hips into his face. Every once in awhile you swipe his nose and he uses the opportunity to dip and twirl his tongue inside of you. 

This is the best way to eat pussy, Joel’s learned. Find out what makes her tick and keep doing that, let her grind on his lips and nose. Right now, your wish is his command.

You reach down and grab his not working arm to bring it towards your breasts. Joel picks up what you’re putting down immediately and trails his hand over your breasts, pinching and twisting your pebbled nipples. That’s all it takes to have you coming in his mouth. 

You cry out his name as you buck your hips into him, fighting the urge to push him away when the feeling becomes too intense. 

Joel doesn’t allow you to catch your breath. He flips you on your tummy and drags you down the bed, his fingernails pressing into your skin. “You did so good for me, baby. You gonna let me fuck you now? Just like you pretend, right?” He pulls his shirt over his head and steps out of his pajama pants behind you.

“Yes, Joel, please,” you whine.

“I like hearin’ that. Keep beggin’ for me,” Joel demands as nudges your thighs apart with his knee. He teases your slit with the tip of his cock, painting his precum on your skin. He pushes the tip inside, not yet dipping all the way inside you.

“I need you,” you sob with desperation. 

“Need me to what?” He knows what you need, but Joel’s gonna make you spell it out to him.

You let out a groan of frustration and back your ass into his hips. Joel chuckles at your annoyance. “Come on now. Tell me what I want to hear,” he repeats his words from earlier. “Put that pretty mouth to use.”

“I need you to fuck me,” 

“There you go. Was that so hard?”

Joel wraps his hands around your hips, his fingers digging into your lower stomach and his thumbs pressed firmly into your lower back and slams his hips into you. His fingernails leave dents in your skin.

You yelp at the sudden contact, not expecting him to go so hard and fast. His thick cock stretches you out and you can feel the tip hitting you deep inside. 

“Always knew this pussy would feel good,” he mumbled behind you, beginning his firm pace. 

You arch your back into him, using your body to tell him what you need. You love the way he feels, so strong and holding you so tight. It really is a fantasy come to life. “Don’t stop, please,” you cry for him.

“Mmmm,” he hums. “You love this cock, don’t you?”

“Yes, Joel,”

“That’s right. It’s all for you, baby,” he continues pounding into you.

Joel stops for a second and flips you over on your back. He apologizes, “Sorry, sweetheart. I know I said I’d fuck you like them in the magazine but fuck, I gotta see you,” he says. “Can’t let you hide those tits from me anymore.”

Joel pulls your legs up and places them over his shoulders, opening you up even deeper for him. He lets out a moan at the change in position.

He admires the way you look, all of it just for him. Your half lidded eyes, mouth open and spilling out moans and obscenities with every snap of his hips. You’re completely fucked out.

You reach down to thumb your clit and he smacks your hand away. “What’d I say earlier? You come when I say. I didn’t say, did I?” he scolded you.

“N-no,” you stutter out. 

Joel takes your wrists into his hand and pins them above your head. “Can’t trust you, sweetheart. Thought you were gonna be a good girl for me,” He snakes his other hand between your thighs and circles your sensitive clit with his thumb ever so lightly. Torturing you with what could be and never giving you more. 

The wet squelching noises of your pussy and the slapping sound of skin hitting skin have your head spinning. Joel fucks you at a merciless pace, frenzied and desperate. He’s savoring the way you’re squirming under him, straining your wrists against his locked grip. He knows it’s agonizing, almost painful the way you’re aching for release. But he’s determined to teach you a lesson. 

“Please,” you choke out. “Just make me come,”

“I don’t know that you deserve it, baby, Touchin’ yourself to that picture of my lookalike? That’s awful selfish of you,” he chided you. “Depriving me of this?”

“Joel,” you whined. You’d do whatever it took to get some release.

“Tell me how long you were needing me,” Joel panted. “Weeks? Months?”

“I don’t know. Forever,” you admitted. “I need to come now, please.”

“Forever? I wish you said somethin’ earlier, baby. You wouldn’t be in this mess,”

You didn’t know how much more you could take. Tears of frustration were streaming down your cheeks, each of his thrusts hitting deep and massaging your insides. You were right there, you just needed permission to let go.

Joel was right there with you, also struggling to hold on. He wanted nothing more than to keep fucking you without allowing you to finish, but he’d never seen something so erotic and sexy. Your body, tangled in his own, your twitching thighs and furrowed brow. And he was responsible for all of it, responsible for turning into this wreck. 

“You’re takin’ me so good, sweet girl. Beggin’ and askin’ me so nice,” he whispered. “You do one last thing for me, and I’ll let you come.”

“Anything,” you gasp. Now his wish is your command. 

“You focus right here. Look at me, and don’t close your eyes. Keep makin’ those pretty noises for me, just like you always do,” You’re not even consciously trying to follow his orders, you just do. You can’t break your stare from his dark and hungry gaze, his lip curled in a nefarious smirk. Breathy moans and high pitched squeals escape your mouth. 

“Always knew you’d be my good girl. Alright now. Let go for me,”

That’s all you needed to reach your peak. The warm, coiling feeling in the pit of your stomach erupts, shooting electricity through your veins. Your vision goes blurry and you hear staticky ringing as you cry out for Joel. It’s all you can feel as wave after wave of pleasure rocks your body. 

Joel’s thrusts are sloppy now as he chases his own orgasm. Your fluttering walls and the way you whisper his name like a prayer are all he needed to reach his peak. His hips are stuttering and his muscles jerk and tremble as he pulses inside you, painting your insides with his seed. Joel hovers above you, placing wet kisses and tonguing your salty skin. He’s addicted to the way you taste. 

It only hits you now how surreal this entire evening is. Joel’s above you, collecting himself and catching his breath and you’re still pinned beneath him. Of course, you imagined fucking him many times prior to this but it was never this way. You couldn’t complain, though. 

Joel interrupts your thoughts with a kiss, sweet and gentle and loving. A stark contrast to the way he fucked your body just moments before. “So apple pudgy pies, right?”

You giggle. Joel is such a typical man, wanting a snack right after sex. At least he’s not already passed out on top of you, the way other men often do. “Yes Joel, just like you asked for,”

Joel backs away from you then with a cute little fist pump, as if he’s winning a prize. “Fuck yeah,” he whispers, walking to the bathroom completely nude. He’s got such a nice and plump ass, you notice. 

He comes back and wipes you off with affectionate care, being extra conscious not to irritate your sensitive skin after the rigorous fucking. He helps you into your pajamas then and kisses you on the top of the head. “I’m gonna get the fire goin’, meet me out there?” 

“Sure, Joel,” you respond with a smile. “I have to finish up with the apples first, though.”

“Take your time. I’ll be out there,”

You sit up and kiss Joel one last time, the way his lips slide against yours gives you butterflies. It’s a little late to feel that way after what you just did. You go to the bathroom then go downstairs and finish prepping the apples, stirring them over the stove. Once they’re finished, you prepare the sandwiches and make your way outside to sit next to Joel.

The warm glow of the fire illuminates his skin and he looks so handsome, his features look so defined by the light and shadows. He helps you put the sandwiches in the pie irons and then places them on the grill above the fire, careful to make sure they’re not getting too much heat too quickly. 

The fire begins to shrink, flames not reaching quite as high as the sandwiches need. You turn your head around you looking for some more firewood, but the sound of ripping paper interrupts your search. 

It’s Joel, tearing out pages of a magazine. Your magazine, from before. You look at him with confusion. 

“I told you, sweetheart. You won’t be needin’ this anymore. You come to me,” he explains with a low voice, flipping the cast iron pans. “I took good care of you, right?”

You smile shyly. “You did,”

“And I intend to keep takin’ care of your needs,” he promises. 

You nod wordlessly, still smiling. A few more moments pass before Joel removes the irons from the fire and removes your pies to cool off, then slices them in half. They’re golden brown and the spicy, sweet, warm smell is sinfully delicious. The gooey apples spill from the bread slightly. Your tummy grumbles at the sight. 

The dessert has cooled enough, you decide. Taking a half of one of the sandwiches in your hand, you bring it to your mouth and take a small bite, the cooked apples are like lava in your mouth. You hiss at the burn on your tongue and lips. 

Joel looks at you with disapproving concern. “Tsk,” he mumbles with displeasure. “You’re terribly impatient, aren’t you?” his tone from the bedroom is back. Reaching forward to take your chin between your fingers, he swipes his thumb along your bottom lip, collecting some of the apple filling. Your eyes widen, you’re startled by his touch. 

“I’ll fix you, though. Teach you some self control,” he sucks his digit into his mouth and pulls it out with a pop, humming at the sweet flavor. “Lord knows you need it.”

 All you can think about is sucking his cock the same way he sucked his thumb. You wonder how the soft skin of his dick would feel on your tongue. How he would taste, how he’d look as you take him deep down your throat. 

God, how you need it.

tag list: @swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @venusdemonroe @guiltgoldglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @kyloispunk

[youronlydarlin]

warning: kinda sad ANGST, Simon losses you :( , ooc kinda?? But he's soft for you only, trust me bro

This was kinda inspired by that one part in the comics where our poor, Si holds his mums skull, n he jus'... Kinda nuzzles into it. I dunno it just bought on some sad feeling, mkay...

Simon who slightly raises the cup of tea he's drinking each time he has one, just to let you know he's relaxing. Or trying his best too, at least. Doesn't know what he'll do if he worried you from beyond the grave. Sometimes he looks at all the belongings you left behind. Saying how they probably miss you, but not nearly as much as he does.

Unlike some, Simon uses your things. He doesn't want the house to go through the pain of loosing you too. So he drinks from your mug, and sits on your chair. Reads your favorite books, but never takes out the book marks in case you want to continue reading them. He also completes your bucket list for you, and even though he's the one doing them he always whispers 'good job, to the wind, hoping they'll carry the messenge to you.

Simon who speaks to your framed pictures. He remembers each, and every memory behind them. "Bet your happy... Now it'll always be my turn to grab the 'bloody groceries.." he jests. He hopes that one made you laugh. Knowing you, you would've. It's a mystery how you always laughed at his lame jokes. Though your laugh's always been better than the awful punchlines.

Simon who passes by that cafe you bugged him to go with you to, and he feels his throat go dry. He never got to take you there because of a sudden call from Price, telling him about an urgent, albeit sudden, mission. He definitely regrets not taking you out on dates more often. There's so many shops opening that he knows you would've loved to see.

Simon who's heart breaks at how quickly the world turns without you. Everything's moving so quickly, leaving him behind like it's already moved on, and he hates it. He hates how there's less clothes to fold now. Food is served, but only for one. The taste of it is flavorless, and dry. It's times like these, that he wishes he should have took the time and learn your recipes.

But what's worse, is that your side of the bed is cold. And it'll remain that way forever. At times he'll reach for you absentmindedly. Nightmares about war traded for dreams about you, but during those dreamless nights where sleep doesn't visit he'll stroke your pillow the same way he'd do to keep your hair out of your face, and pull the covers over the empty space you once occupied. He wonders if it's cold where you are right now. But just know that he's always willing to warm you up if ever you come back.

Simon who...

Stands at the doorway. Bag slinged over his shoulder, full of everything he needs and more for deployment. He knows he can't leave without properly saying goodbye, so he fishes out his wallet, and digs out a picture of you. He holds it up to his face, and it's funny. How you're not even staring at the camera when the photo was taken. No, you were staring at him. This one's always been his favorite. So he clears his throat, and wishes you don't hear the slight shake in his tone.

"..By now you would've told me to be careful.. And I will, by the way. But, m' sorry for all the times I didn't...'

....

" I have to go now. Don't need them gettin' on my ass for 'being late.. so.."

....

"..You just rest now, ok, love? There's nothing else for you to worry about' anymore. I love you, always. Wish me, and the boys luck, yeah?.."

He gives a light kiss to your photo, and it's as if you're with him when he steps outside the door..

a/n: This was a challenge to write, and I don't know what to feel about the results. I'm just polishing my english, I guess. M'not good at writing angst, you can probably tell, also my grammar feels off on this one, again. English isn't my first language, sorry. So please correct me on any mistakes I've made! But putting all that aside, I hope you like this more than I do! And, always remember that you are loved, and cared for! Have an amazing day, my darlings!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

[fuckmymunson]

eddie munson loves when his girl rides his face i will stand by that forever!!!

HE ABSOLUTELY DOES, HE IS THE BEST PUSSY EATER AND YOU CAN'T TELL ME OTHERWISE! It's canon I already sat on his face 🙄👍🏻.

18+ as usual! So minors stay away or ill bite your knees... This is longer than intended but… idgaf imma eat my crepes rn bye lol I'm a whore.

︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ʚ��ɞ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

This man was made to eat pussy, like it's that one secret talent everyone apparently has; cooking? Not his gig, writing? If designing campaigns counts sure, but probably it doesn't, fishing? He can't catch shit, dude… but professional pussy eating? That's right under his belt.

Had a rough day at work/school? Don't worry, just hop on and take a ride.

Feel stressed after a long week? Hold on, boyfriend Eddie it's on his way!

But, he will always prioritize your feelings before going straight to business. Eddie will hold your hand as he listens to you, he will nod every now and then to let you know you still have his complete attention, and even will rub your back soothingly if your ranting becomes too heated.

He will run a shower for you, wait for you patiently reading a comic or boiling some water for your tea, or coffee if that's what you prefer.

He will even dress you if you allow him. This man is on his entirety devoted to you.

Once he sees you are all relaxed, smiling and giggling, he will without any questions drag you to his room (or yours, or even his van, or an empty classroom, anywhere!), he will kiss you as if his life depends on it and shower you with affection.

Eddie's kisses are loving and passionate. Yes, he will kiss you with his soul every time but when he's a man with a mission (and that mission it's you using his face as a chair), he is a true gentleman. He kisses your lips, your nose, your cheeks, your neck, down to your shoulders as he undresses you.

He will settle between your legs, his thumbs tracing your thighs and pulling down your bottoms along with your underwear. Eddie kisses your neck and bites it softly, rubbing your clit in circles with his thumb and using his other hand to pinch your nipple lightly. He's been hard since he met you but this isn't about him at the moment, he wants to make you feel good.

"I know just the thing to cheer you up" He whispers against your neck, tracing his tongue over a purplish hickey.

"Yeah?" You ask breathlessly and his cock twitches at the sound of your sweet, worked up voice. He nods and slides a finger inside you, biting his lip to prevent a moan at the wonderful sensation of your pussy engulfing his digit.

"Sit on my face, gorgeous. Ride me" He practically begs, whiny and needy. His requests makes you moan and clench around him.

Eddie sometimes (always) thinks he definitely won the lottery with you.

"Let me treat you, my lady" He teases as you straddle his face, he squeezes your ass and basically roams anywhere his rough hands can reach.

"Shut up" You laugh and do your best to find a proper leverage.

"Make me" Eddie bites back, making you quirk an eyebrow at his challenge.

"Okay"

And with that, you lower under him, successfully shutting him up by rubbing your wet pussy against his face.

Eddie dives in, eating you like a starved bastard. He moans at the very first taste, holding on your thighs for dear life as he flicks your clit with his tongue. He will pant and whine when your hand comes down to yank and pull his curls, promptly riding his face.

His half-lidded, chocolates brown, pretty doe eyes will look you from underneath as if you were a goddess, and honestly? To him you are. And he is a blessed man for eating this heavenly pussy.

Eddie will fuck you with his tongue as his nose touches your clit. His eyes will roll to the back of his head every time you moan his name and ask him for more— To which, come on; Eddie is a pleaser, that boy is a real pussy pleaser. He will lap you and he will make the most obscene and sinful sounds when he eats you out. His favorite head? Sloppy, with long tongue slides and when his face ends up all drenched and slippery with your slick and his saliva.

So by the time you cum all over his face, he will be pussydrunk, he will be a whining mess, his pijama shorts have a wet stain and he is so hard it literally hurts.

He will nods eagerly when you cum, basically sobbing your name back as he presses you even closer to his face, because he will be damned if he misses a single drop of you.

Eddie could die between your thighs <3.

[hammysando]

"When The Carnations Bloom" Jing Yuan x GN!Reader

AN: Here's the Arbiter General~ Felt kinda rushed at the end, but I'm more or less happy with how this came out! Once again likes and reblogs are appreciated! Don't be shy to leave a comment down below as well! <3 Reader is Gender Neutral!

Wordcount: 1.9K+ words~

Prompt: Reader has Hanahaki and hides it from everyone. (Except for Bailu.)

TW: Major character death (Reader), slight descriptions of blood.

Please read at your own risk!

More below the cut~

You were in the bathroom, throwing up those damned flowers again. They came up and out of your throat quickly and painfully, as you emptied out whatever you could. Tired, you leaned against the wall and glanced down at the bloodied and saliva-covered red carnations in your sink. Crinkling your nose up in disgust, you tried to regulate your ragged breathing by taking deep breaths. It proved to be difficult, but little by little, you calmed your erratic pulse. And little by little, the urge to break out into violent coughs ceased. Moving to get back into bed, you groaned softly as a knock sounded at the door. Vowing to murder whomever showed at your door, you wearily trudged over.

“(Name)! General is slacking off again!” A boyish voice shouted from the other side, drawing a long sigh from you. Ah, it was Yanqing.

Begrudgingly, the door swung open and you scowled slightly at the thought of having to drag Jing Yuan back to the Seat of Divine Foresight. Yanqing stood there, looking just as annoyed as you did, and the two of you shared a knowing look. The general was once again skipping out on paperwork. Stepping out in whatever you were wearing currently, you didn't care for the strange looks you garnered from your neighbors.

“Again?” You grumbled this softly, trying to ignore the flowers that started to tickle the back of your throat, just from the thought of Jing Yuan. Ah, how could you have fallen for someone so frustrating, yet so handsome?

“Again. I couldn't think of anyone to get him to do his work but you.” Yanqing said this apologetically but started to lead you away to where the general slumbered. The entire way, you grumbled about how you should start charging Jing Yuan. You were acting as his very own human alarm, after all.

The arduous journey led you straight to a certain garden. And lo and behold, the snow haired man slept soundly under an arbor of wisteria and an assortment of other flowers. You fought down the flowers that clogged your throat as your eyes found his form. Letting out a strained grunt, you stalked over to Jing Yuan, and prepared to smack him upside the head. Yanqing watched on curiously. He had seen this spectacle several times, but you seemed… Tired, to him. Less eager to smack the general. Though as soon as his thoughts started to wander, a resounding smack of skin on skin drew his light topaz colored eyes to the source.

Jing Yuan rubbed the back of his head, a relaxed and even amused smile on his face as he regarded you. Meanwhile, you frowned at him disapprovingly. It looked like a lion being scolded by a very unhappy sparrow. It was comical to any passerby, if it weren't for said lion being the General of the Xianzhou Luofu.

“Jing Yuan, how many times are you going to slack off?” You scolded him, expression softening. Ah, you could never stay mad at him. Those sincere honey eyes of his made you weak to your knees. Keeping the flower petals at bay, you simply crossed your arms and looked at him expectantly.

“Well my dear (Name)... If I didn't slack off, I wouldn't get a chance to see you everyday.” His deep voice said this with velvety smoothness as he chuckled and smiled at you fondly. “You know how boring it is to do paperwork everyday. What if I want to see my favorite-”

You flicked his forehead and sighed through your nose. His words caused the roots of the flowers in your lungs to tighten and contract. It hurt to hear those words from him. You almost wished he would stop saying such things. And to stop looking at you with such softness. Every action and look from the cloud-haired man fueled the slow agony you suffered.

“Seat of Foresight. Now.” You crossed your arm tighter as he sighed heavily and stood.

“Anything for you, little sparrow.”

The weeks passed on uneventfully, and your routine stayed the same. You coughed up those dreaded carnations, rouge color matching that of your blood. Then tiredly, you would drag Jing Yuan back to his office to fulfill his duties before going about your own day. It was troublesome at times, but it was comfortable. Admittedly, you enjoyed what little time you had with the general. After you retired from the frontlines, you gradually saw Jing Yuan less and less. This was one of the few ways you could see him still, without seeming a bother.

More weeks passed, and you seemed to grow weaker and weaker as the deep red carnations started to bloom. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to tell anyone of your predicament. Of your beautifully cruel disease, as it destroyed you quietly. The flowers came heavily now, blooming delicately in full.

One fairy night in summer, a knock on the door sounded softly. You weren't surprised. In fact, you had expected this to happen. You see, as your condition worsened, you distanced yourself. No longer, did you go to rouse the general from his slumber. No longer did you go to the Seat of Divine Foresight at the request of Jing Yuan, only to end up playing a game of starchess with him. Honestly, you had expected him to come sooner. You opened your front door, revealing the tall man. His golden eyes looked down at you, screaming their worry despite the calm smile on his face.

“Jing Yuan.” You spoke softly, acknowledging him.

“Little Sparrow.” He acknowledged you back, dipping his head toward you.

A silence ensued as you both stood there, gazing at one another. The sun had started to die in its grave in the sky, giving way to a plum sunset. And yet, nothing was said. Eventually, when the plum shades faded into inky indigo, Jing Yuan spoke. His tone was calm, with undertones of hope.

“Will you be there to scold me tomorrow?” It was a silly question that made laughter bubble up in your throat. The petals accompanied it, however. Fighting them back, you managed to crack a smile at the general.

“I'll be there.” His smile widened and his eyes melted into pools of honey, uncontrollably fond.

“Then I shall look forward to tomorrow. Until then, Little Sparrow.”

You sobbed softly to yourself that night as the stars made their nightly travel across the dark expanses of space.

Lady Bailu frowned at you deeply, anger and sorrow pooling in her eyes. Looking ready to cry, she turned away and sniffled violently. The Vidyadhara healer had just examined your condition, and her conclusion was not a favorable one. Fists clenched, she turned back to you.

“You're going to die very soon, (Name). If you don't do something. The carnations are in full bloom.. At this rate you'll suffocate on them and-.” The tears started to slide down her cheeks as she glared up at you. Your only response was a sorrowful smile.

“I'm a coward, Lady Bailu. I could never burden Jing Yuan.” You sighed.

“Then let me treat them. Let me get rid of them for you-” You cut her off, shaking your head gently.

“And lose the ability to love? To be considered alive?” Bailu could not fight against you. Instead, Bailu sobbed into your shoulder, gripping you tightly as you bent down and gently hugged her small, quivering form. You would miss her. Miss Yanqing. Aeons, you'd even miss Fu Xuan and her nagging. And Jing Yuan and his lazing about.

The following days, you spent packing your things into boxes and labeled them with names of the ones you wanted them to go to. Your precious sword collection would go to Yanqing of course. Qingque got your prized mahjong board made from the finest jade. And Jing Yuan received the first tea set you ever got. It had been a gift from the man himself. A retirement gift, as he would have put it. You knew he'd take good care of it. Saying goodbye to these things were bittersweet. But, you couldn't bring yourself to bear your soul to Jing Yuan. And you couldn't undergo Bailu’s treatment to rid yourself of these carnations in your lungs. All living things were built to love. Platonically or not. If you lost that feeling, could you even consider yourself ‘alive’, anymore? You sighed softly as you finished the last of the box. You were certain that they would be treasured and treated well. The last thing to do, was to pen the letters.

News of your death spread through the Xianzhou Luofu like wildfire. Many were in disbelief, while some mourned for you. Jing Yuan had been shocked by this, not wanting to believe it. His footsteps echoed on the pavement of your home’s walkway. No, he needed to see you. He needed to put the worries and fears in his mind to rest. You couldn't die. You were General (Name) (Last name), the Blade Singer. The one who slayed thousands of abhorrentions of abundance. There couldn't be a possibility you had died.

The air of your home was already going stale without your presence. Though it also carried the faintest wisps of your scent. Jing Yuan’s chest tightened with pain as he stared at the boxes with names. At the letters. At you, so still in your bed. Your eyes were shut peacefully as red carnations surrounded you, in full bloom. One could almost mistake you as simply sleeping. Bailu was at your side, sobbing, along with a Yanqing who clung onto your hand, head bowed as hot tears slid down his face and hit the floor with a dull thunk.

Your funeral was one lush with flowers, and held on a day as sunny as always. The summer fairy lights seemed to gather around your starskiff, adorned with different blooms, to send you off. A silent farewell. Jing Yuan watched with unsteady honey eyes. He had lost so much already. To the point where he assumed that losing would no longer hurt him. Alas, he had been wrong. Losing you, brought an indescribable hurt to him. Chest clenching painfully, Jing Yuan excused himself soon after your funeral.

Wandering aimlessly, the General found his feet taking him to the garden you had both met in when you were young. He had fallen asleep, and you were running away from your mentor. A wistful smile found its way onto Jing Yuan’s face before he slipped a letter out of his pocket. In your handwriting, his name was penned. Jing Yuan couldn't bring himself to open it before, scared that if he acknowledged your passing, you would truly disappear from this world. But now, steeped in an indigo peace, he found the courage to open the neatly sealed envelope.

It carried your scent and your presence in every line. Every brush stroke.

To you, who I loved;

This journey has been a strange blessing and curse. Though, I would rather not have had it at all. Unfortunately, it seems unrequited love has been my undoing. I'm sure Lady Bailu has filled you in on everything… And I would like to apologize for being such a coward.

I loved you, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. Perhaps it was my own fears that stopped me. I didn't want to burden you with my feelings. But I think most importantly, I didn't want to relearn the pain of losing someone I loved. We've lost so much, Yuan. I couldn't bear to lose you too. It was my own shortcoming. And it may be selfish and too late to say now, but...

I love you, Jing Yuan.

-(Name) (Last name)

Jing Yuan traced your penmanship with his fingertips. And a single hyacinth flower fluttered from his lips.

[poweringthroughthis]

fever dream | nakamoto yuta

nsfw, mdni

pair: yuta x male reader

desc: Being an avid NCTzen for a while now, you can't believe the events that transpire once you finally get to attend the NCT concert in your country, and meet your biggest bias.

warnings: dirty talk, oral, anal s*x

It was most definitely a fever dream. Korean fans are truly lucky with how often they get opportunities to see their favorite artists perform live. The rest of us, on the other hand, check whether the name of our country has been included in the artist's list for the latest world tour, while we happily cheer them on from the confines of our homes. But as they say, good things shall come to those who wait. You never thought such a day would actually come but it has, and here you are, standing at the entrance of the stadium that NCT was set to perform at today!

For obvious reasons, your nerves were all over the place. You couldn't get rid of the giddiness no matter how much you tried to normalize the day mentally. In fact, the idea of soothing your nerves was what brought you here, at the venue.....four hours in advance. The entry gates were closed and security had barely begun overseeing the arrangements. As you took in the surroundings, two or three vans came to a halt in front of the gate. It didn't take much of a genius to guess the Neos had arrived. Your heart started ringing in your eardrums. You were about to see them in the flesh.

They were surrounded by bodyguards from all directions but you could see a comparatively relaxed formation of their security since no fans were here yet. You were admiring the boys from a distance as they came out of the vans in sweats, not wishing to misuse this opportunity and get in their personal space. Then you saw him, and your heart stopped for a second. Your bias, Nakamoto Yuta. He was absolutely ethereal. You almost missed his brief glance at you, chalking it up to your delusions. But it was hard not to faint when he asked the security guard something, pointing discreetly in your direction before he went in, trailing the other members.

The guard gestured you over but you were still somewhat confused. "Hey, you! You're here for the concert, aren't you? Mr. Yuta said you can wait backstage if you want to." Your eyes widened comically. Did you hear that right? You were afraid you were going to need CPR, this was a little too surreal for a random Saturday.

"um, but can I ask why?" you managed to croak out.

"Kid, do I look like I know that? Get in if you want to, or keep standing in the heat. I have work to do." he replied gruffly and you quickly entered the premises.

Finding the green rooms wasn't much of a hassle, with the halls being void of anyone and a door reading 'NCT 127' in ginormous font. The rooms must be divided based on subunits, you figured. The door made a creaking noise as you you shakily opened it and peeked inside.

Only one person was present, you couldn't see their face since they had their back towards you but it was easy to confirm by their hair color. It was Yuta. He seemed to be busy, either doing vocal warm ups or texting, but you had to clear this misunderstanding. "Hi? Um, I'm sorry if I'm interrupting but-"

"No, it's fine. You can come in." he turned around, smiling at you. He had a smile so radiant, you wondered how many hearts he had already captured with that smile alone. "I told the security to let you in."

"Uh, thanks? I think there has been a huge misunderstanding, I don't know you personally but you're free to correct me if I'm wrong." you replied, slightly more nervous now. He raised his eyebrow at that and motioned you to go on. "But, you're like a celebrity and I'm a nobody. I just want to make sure you're not mistaking me for someone else and you aren't in trouble or anything. It's okay if you need me to leave."

"Well, I've never met a 'nobody' before." he grinned, "You are very attractive, if I'm being honest. And you're welcome to stay as long as you want."

"T-thank you"

He was sitting on the sofa, the one closest to the door and he patted the space beside him, motioning you to sit down. You were unsure if that was appropriate, considering you had met the guy not even five minutes ago but it didn't feel right to deny.

"What's your name, cutie?"

"Uh, it's y/n"

"That's cute. Do you have any social media?"

"Y-yes."

"Let me follow you then, I don't really post but I'd like seeing pictures of you."

"Um, okay. If you want to, I mean." you were a stuttering mess, you couldn't believe this was happening. He followed your instagram handle, liking a few posts before following and you had never felt more self conscious in your life. You wanted to hide, you knew the pictures he was liking were all your cringey photos and selfies from your rare confidence boosts.

"Hey, are you shy around me?"

"Y-yes...sorry, this is really overwhelming. I've just been such a big fan for the longest-"

"A fan, huh? Tell me, is it a big turn off if I kissed you right now?"

You stared at him incredulously. "Um, well...I'm not sure if you're asking for my opinion."

"Oh, but I am." he smirked, moving closer. He had a hand placed on your thigh and his face was mere inches away. "What's the verdict?"

"No, not a turn off. Not at all." you said, barely above a whisper.

"Great. You're a sweet little thing if I've ever seen one." he said before closing the gap and capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. It was slow and sensual. He tasted like strawberry, probably because of the lip balm you thought.

Your hands went up to caress his face, and he placed his hands on your waist, bringing you even closer. You couldn't tell how much time had passed, the two of you were completely engrossed in each other. His hand trailed down to your ass and gave it a squeeze, eliciting a surprised gasp. You didn't want to, but you broke the kiss and stared at him.

"I'm not going to push you if you don't want this, I'd like to have your consent."

"I want it."

"Are you sure? We're complete strangers, you have no reason to trust me."

"I know, but I've had a crush on you for a long time. You can do whatever you want, honestly"

"Fuck, that's hot. I don't know how I'm gonna control myself, but I'm willing to try."

With that, he went back to kissing you. He started getting a little more aggressive with his movements, sucking your lower lip. He slowly trailed his tongue on your bottom lip, asking for entrance and you opened your mouth slightly, letting his tongue in. He was so experienced, you could only melt in his arms. You tried your best to keep up but were mostly overwhelmed. It was..your first steamy encounter, after all.

You broke the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths. Yuta stared at you with lust filled eyes, a smirk plastered on his face. "You're doing so good for me, kitten."

"I am?"

"Yeah, I'm going to make you feel good, so good." He got up and locked the door, turning back towards you and you realized that this was happening. He went back to sit next to you, bringing his lips back onto yours, his hands going under your shirt. You moaned softly as his fingers grazed your nipple. "You're so sensitive."

You broke the kiss. "Yuta, I'm a virgin."

He groaned and kissed your neck. "I can't believe I get to pop your cherry." He continued trailing kisses down your neck, his hands squeezing your nipples. Your hands roamed his back and shoulders, enjoying the way his muscles rippled under your touch.

"Take your shirt off, baby." He removed his own shirt, exposing his well built upper body. You felt yourself grow wetter just by looking at him. His body was truly godlike, his toned muscles glistening. You couldn't help but stare.

"You're so beautiful" he whispered. "You're going to look even more beautiful once I'm done with you." He started unbuttoning your shirt, taking it off completely and throwing it away. Your breath hitched, your body was exposed and Yuta was staring at it like a starved animal. He bent his head down and captured a nipple between his lips, licking and sucking, his fingers teasing the other. You were a moaning mess, the feeling was too much.

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes, god yes"

"Good. Tell me, have you ever touched yourself, baby?"

"Y-yes"

"And what were you thinking about when you did it?"

"You"

He groaned at that and pulled down your pants, along with your underwear. He kissed his way down from your chest to your thighs. His mouth was hovering over your dick and he looked up at you with a devilish smirk, "I'm going to suck you off, is that alright?"

"Please, I've never felt anyone's mouth down there"

"Good." He started by giving a tentative lick and you whimpered. He smirked and licked the underside, swirling his tongue around the tip. He slowly took the whole thing in his mouth and you threw your head back, moaning.

"F-fuck, feels so good"

He was bobbing his head, his tongue swirling around your dick, his cheeks hollowed. The feeling was incredible, you had never felt anything like it. You were bucking your hips and gripping his hair, trying not to cum.

"Cum in my mouth, baby"

And you were a goner. This was the craziest day ever. Yuta just said that to you. You wished you could replay the sound of that a hundred times over.

You came in his mouth, and he swallowed it all, moaning. He stood up and licked his lips. You were a panting mess, coming down from your high.

"You're such a good boy for me"

"M-more"

"Don't worry, we're not done yet"

He started undoing his belt, taking his pants off and throwing them aside. He was wearing a pair of black boxers, and his erection was evident. He pulled them down, his dick springing free and you were in awe. It was big, and thick, and you couldn't help but stare. He chuckled, "Like what you see?"

"Yes, it's so big"

"And it's all yours, baby." He stroked himself a few times, his precum leaking. "Are you ready, kitten?"

"Yes"

"Get on your knees." You obediently got down on your knees, facing away from him. He lined his dick with your entrance, rubbing it against your hole. You nodded. He slowly pushed the tip in, and it felt like your whole body was on fire.

"Fuck, you're so tight"

He grabbed your hips, and started thrusting, slowly. You were moaning and whimpering, the feeling was so intense. You had never felt anything like it. You were being stretched open, your hole being filled to the brim.

"Y-Yuta, faster"

"You like that, huh? You like my cock?"

"Y-yes, I love it"

He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming faster. "Thought you were innocent, baby. Who would have guessed you'd turn out to be such a slut."

"Fuck, Yuta!"

"That's right, say my name."

You were being pounded into the floor, and you were loving every second of it. He was fucking you so good, his cock hitting your sweet spot. You were moaning and whimpering, unable to hold back.

"Fuck, you're so sexy. I'm close."

He chuckled. "My sweet little angel, you can't get enough of me."

You were close to climaxing, the pleasure was so intense, you could barely think straight. You were a moaning mess, Yuta was grunting and breathing heavily. He was pounding into you, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

"After today, I'll make sure you keep coming back for more. Make you feel good, just like this. Gonna ruin you for anyone else. You'll be begging for my cock, and only my cock."

"Fuck, Yuta!" You cried out, nearing your orgasm, his dirty talk sending you over the edge. You could tell you wouldn't last much longer.

"I'll turn you into a dumb cock slut. I'll train you to take my dick in your ass every day. I'll fuck you so hard, you won't be able to walk."

"Please, fuck me harder. Make me yours."

"You'll be walking to the concert ground funny. You'll be so fucked out, you won't be able to function. I'll make sure of that."

"F-fuck, Yuta!"

With that, you were both pushed over the edge, and you came, hard. Your vision went white, and your body was wracked with pleasure. You could feel him filling you up, his warm seed filling your ass as he pulled your head back towards him, neck straining as he sloppily kissed you.

You were both panting and spent. You had just had sex with the man of your dreams. He was still inside of you, and he was still kissing you. It was a passionate kiss, and you could feel his adoration for you. You were so lucky.

"You did so good for me, baby." He whispered. "Such a good boy for me."

You were too blissed out to reply. Your brain was not cooperating with the rest of your body, still in a state of euphoria.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

Yuta picked you up bridal style, taking you to the bathroom, your head resting on his chest. You had never felt so loved.

"Give me your number? I promise we can sneak off to a date whenever I'm off schedules. It won't be that easy, I know."

"I'd like that."

"It's a date then. I hope I didn't disappoint" he smirked.

"I should be asking that. I was a virgin."

"Baby, I'm happy you chose me. And if I may add, you were amazing. If not for the security standing outside, I'd have kept fucking you throughout the night."

"Oh god, please don't make me blush"

"I'll make it up to you."

And he did. The next concert stop, you found yourself on his bed, naked, being ravaged by him. And the day after that, and the day after that. Soon the two of you were something more, and neither person could have asked for more.

Maybe reaching the concert venue too early wasn't as stupid as you'd thought.

[lovers-rck]

little secret | abby anderson x reader.

summary abby anderson likes to read, and you like abby anderson. | friends to lovers, +18.

okay.... this is the longest fic i ever written (i think)

enjoy

but before, help palestine with one click.

☆

You met her in winter. The immensity of the stadium they called home impressed you, a reconstructed civilization within an abnormality hard to ignore.

Even though she was the most respected soldier in the place, your memory ranks her welcome as the warmest. Between fluffy sweaters and worn leather jackets, Abby showed you a warmth that made Seattle's monstrous winter seem like a light summer breeze.

In addition to showing you the place where you would now live, immense and so functional it was frightening, Abby showed you more than the visible. As time passed, shyly, Abby took her time to show you her jokes, her favorite books, (of which there were many, you decided) her strange ways of combining food to kill hunger longer, her wounds; the internal and the external.

The personal library that Abby had begun to assemble when she arrived at W.L.F. was now familiar to you. When responsibilities left and the moon was present in the atmosphere, the two of you spent the night in that place. The bookshelves acted like skyscrapers over your bodies sitting on the floor, filled with books and comics that the W.L.F. soldiers encountered on their daily patrols.

"I think they're going to end up together" Abby mutters, her nose buried between the pages of an old red-covered book.

"You said the same thing about the other book last night" You replied. Youdidn't share the same passion for reading as Abby, but you enjoyed listening to her tell you about her new readings and her theories about what might or might not happen in those pages.

You liked that contrast with the soldier Abby, the one everyone knew, and the Abby you knew. During the day her posture was steady, stone-eyed and scrutinizing every movement nature had to offer, attentive and ready to pull the trigger at any danger, but when night fell, her posture changed completely; usually hunched over, her features softer, more relaxed.

"It's not my fault that everyone writes the same thing" Abby rolled her eyes, putting the book aside but not before folding a corner of the page, marking where it was left "I guess it was a popular idea back in the day"

"You should write a book."

Abby let out a groan, leaning back against the bookshelf behind her. The two of you were sitting on the floor, facing each other, separated by a pile of books scattered on the library's newest acquisition: a worn purple carpet.

"I'm not in the mood for jokes" Abby blurted out.

"Why?" you asked "It wasn't a joke anyway"

"Because of Manny. He was out of control today during patrol. He almost got us killed"

You rolled your eyes "You know what he's like" Abby massaged her shoulder absently, you could see her muscles twitch "I'm sure it was nothing, you just can't stand it when people don't follow your orders"

she looked at you, her eyebrows raised "Excuse me?"

Ypu laughed lightly "It's true. You're a serial controller."

"I'm not a serial controller, for your information" Abby said "It's just not a place for jokes"

"If you say..." you mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest and dropping the conversation; knowing Abby, she would never admit it.

"What?"

You shrugged, smiling graciously at Abby's accusatory look "I didn't say anything."

"You don't believe me" Abby scrutinized you with her gaze.

You shook your head "I didn't say that".

"But you thought it"

You rolled your eyes "Now you're a mind reader? I can see why you're considered the best soldier ever"

"There's nothing wrong with being controlling, Abs. That's the way you get everything you want. Everything you have" you continued.

Abby let out a sigh, her chest heaving, "Yeah, whatever"

The room fell into a deep silence for a couple of minutes. You decided to grab a book, trying to read it and make some sense of the words, but Abby's gaze on you prevented your brain from synapses.

"What?" you said in an accusatory tone, resting the book in your lap and looking at that blonde girl.

Now it was Abby's turn to shrug, a slight smirk planted on her face "I didn't say anything"

"Whatever."

Abby considered picking up her book as well, but saw no point in seeing the very predictable ending that the last few pages held. Your words were still echoing in her head; everything she wanted.

She, in fact, didn't have everything she wanted. Abby thought she lacked a handful of essentials; a reasonable sleep schedule, a meal that with all the proteins, a partner who wasn't a complete idiot on patrol.

But hey, those were luxuries given the circumstances.

To no one's surprise, you caught Abby's attention from the very first moment. She remembers with tenderness the first time she saw you, wet and covered with blood, hidden among the large leaves of a strange plant that had been born thanks to the combination of vegetation and fungus, with a look that Abby would never forget.

She felt the need to protect you, not because she considered you weak, but because a strange feeling led her to position herself in front of you when in the patrols you heard some infected too close, or that time when a Seraphite appeared unexpectedly and hurted you, and Abby kept chasing Mel through the corridors to remind her to be extremely careful with you.

"I know what I'm doing, Abby" she remembered how Mel told her one night "She's going to be fine"

Abby tried to convince herself that it was just that she had grown too attached to you, but something inside her told her it was something more than that, something deeper, more intense.

Abby thought she lacked a handful of things that were essential to her life, like you.

"You know, you read too many romance books" you said, snapping Abby out of her thoughts "Are you in love, Anderson?"

"Oh my god" Abby muttered "You should go to sleep, the lack of it is affecting your reasoning."

"So, is that a yes?"

"I don't choose what to read" Abby replied "I don't know if you noticed, but we're in an apocalypse. I don't have too many genres to choose from."

"You still haven't answered my question!"

Abby's muscles tensed as she could see how you moved from your position and sat closer to her, next to her. Abby could feel your arm brush against hers.

"So..." You murmured, your breath hitting Abby's lips "Tell me your little secret."

"My little secret?" Abby murmured, forcing herself to look only into your eyes.

"Who do you like?" And Abby snorted, rolling her eyes "Is it Nora? I've seen you two together a lot recently."

"No, wait, i know. It's mel, isn't it?" You continued. Your knee bumped into Abby's thigh.

"I'm not in love with Nora, or Mel, dumbass. They're my friends."

You emitted silence for a few seconds, and then:

"Is it Manny?"

"Are you kidding me?" Abby replied with a tone that made you burst out laughing, combined with all those laughs written on worn pages

"I'm sorry. I had to say it" you said with a chuckle.

Abby shook her head slowly, a smile planting itself on her face. Fucking Manny, she thought.

"So?" You said after a few minutes. Abby looked at you, her blue sapphires piercing your gaze. "Who is it?" You muttered, your voice coming out weaker than intended.

Siddenly the library became the quietest place in that giant structure. Every whisper, every sigh felt too aggressive, too loud; something that threatened to break the intimacy that the proximity of your bodies had created.

Abby slowly denied with her head, closing her eyes for a second. When she opened them again, something had changed in her gaze.

"You're not going to tell me?" You whispered. Your hand rested close to Abby's. At some point, you doubted whether your bones had turned to magnet and Abby's to metal because of the way a supernatural force was compelling you to be close to her.

She denied again, but the way her eyes flicked to your mouth for a microsecond gave her away.

"It's okay" you whispered "I think I have an idea."

The first time you saw her, that winter, you noticed that Abby had a tendency to lick her lips constantly. It didn't seem odd to you, as the winter in Seattle was very dry and lip balm was not something they were equipped with at the W.L.F, but as time went on you noticed that Abby had a tendency to lick her lips only when she was with you; when you pretended you didn't know she was looking at you, when you got close to her face to apply a lipstick you found in one of the patrolling days, when you gave her a kiss on the cheek on the morning of her birthday.

And now, just before your lips meet hers.

For the first few seconds neither of you move. Your lips linger on hers shyly, too terrified to move but refusing to pull away. Abby has to muster all her strength to move her hand to your jaw, holding you, and suddenly every shred of fear leaves her.

Your lips instantly reciprocate, too hungry, too thirsty for her taste. Abby thinks that now that she finally knows what it feels like to kiss you, she fears not being able to stop.

Her hand, which initially started on your cheek, travels down your body to your waist squeezing the flesh viciously. Her fingerprints savor every touch your body provides, skin that has been reserved for so long just for her enjoyment.

When Abby's hand makes contact with the exposed portion of skin, the air circulating through the stadium feels insufficient. Your body takes on an inhuman heat, a heat worthy of the iron emanating from the gates to hell, a heat that only she can cease.

"Abby" your lips release, a strangled moan.

"I know" She replies.

Your body was now a mass that Abby could mold as she wished. She is overcome with a sweeping euphoria as she becomes aware of the control your body offers her, and thinks maybe you were right; she likes to be in control.

You try to keep up with her movements. You touch her skin, her arms, afraid to ruin the pattern of freckles that rest perfectly on her rosy shoulders.

In a matter of seconds you end up on her lap, your legs hugging her thighs, clinging to the new sensation that Abby's shyness deprived you of for so long. Between kisses, you can hear the moans the blonde's mouth emits, weak but guttural moans.

"Can I..." Abby murmurs, her mouth on top of yours "Can I touch you?"

Your throat fails to find the strength to elicit a sound, so you just nod, eager for anything that comes from her. Instantly you feel Abby's fingers undoing your belt and unbuttoning the button of your pants, but just as you're ready for the next thing, Abby's fingers linger in place.

"What's wrong?" you ask, strands of hair interrupting your vision. Your hair feels so tousled "You don't have to if you don't want to Abs."

Abby shakes her head, her eyes drift to her hands lying in your lap, fiddling with the button "It's nothing" she murmurs "It's just.... It's been a while, you know?"

And you understand. Your fingers stroke the backs of Abby's arms.

"I understand. You don't have to be nervous" you say, trying to get her to look at you "It's just us."

Abby nods. She looks at your abdomen, the way your t-shirt hugs your waist.

"If it makes you feel any better, I never did this" you whisper, and that's all it takes for Abby to look at you.

"Never?"

you deny "Never"

"What about the redheaded girl last month? You told me things happened."

You stifle a laugh, embarrassed. Now it's your turn to look away from Abby and focus on the pattern on her shirt.

"It was stupid. We didn't do anything, it scared me" you can feel her tuck an unruly lock behind your ear, her fingertips caressing your face "It was just a silly kiss."

Abby nods slowly, her gaze still on you "Okay. Okay."

Behind the library doors, women and children walk the halls, leaders give orders and soldiers disappear behind the massive doors while others return from adventures. The world is functional again.

"Do you think it's stupid?" you mutter.

"What? No" Abby denies "It's not stupid. It's fine. Besides, it's not like we have a lot of time for that kind of thing around here"

Your lips let out a chuckle. "Yeah, that's true."

Your eyes match Abby's gaze, who smiles slightly. Her smile is sweet, friendly, you can feel the warmth that is so characteristic of her, nestling between the corners of her mouth

This time she starts the kiss. This time it is calmer, less desperate, but just as passionate. Her fingers return to what concerns them, and navigate between your pants and the elastic of your underwear.

Her fingers are cold, so you stir in her lap at the sensation and Abby laughs, apologizing softly. You quickly forget about the sharp change in temperature because you have Abby where you want her most.

Even though it's been a long time since the last time, Abby is quick to pull your panties to the side and find a rhythm that has you moaning in seconds. Your lips break the kiss several times, moans seeking air and space to make themselves present.

"Is this okay?" Abby murmurs into your neck, wet kisses planting themselves on your skin.

Your hips move against her hand, desperate "Yes Abs" the hot air of your breath hits against her ear, and Abby almost lets out the most obscene sound ever uttered "Please, keep going."

Abby's free hand massages your breasts, squeezes and fondles them. Her tongue plays with the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking and marking every inch.

The euphoria and pleasure of the moment makes you feel invincible, and your hand darts toward Abby's pants, unzipping them and finding her black boxers.

"What are you doing?" Abby says, choked words.

You ignore her and continue your task, reaching inside her underwear and trying to mimic the move you do to yourself on nights where your body lies too warm on the sheets of some room at the W.L.F. Your movements are clumsy, but they work wonders for Abby, who stifles her moans into your neck.

As her nature defines her, Abby is a competitive girl in every way, so when she feels an immense heat who tries to collapse her under your effects, her fingers pick up the pace and pull desperate moans from your throat.

There was no way Abby would finish before you.

"Abby" you moan, your fingers losing rhythm "Abby"

"I know."

It doesn't take too many seconds before your body shudders under Abby's control and moans and groans come out of your mouth, which you choke on her shoulder.

Pleasure blurs your vision and senses, so you can't anticipate when a trembling, whimpering Abby pulls your hand from her intimacy and her muscles contract accompanied by a long, shuddering moan.

You and her breathing evens out, both of your breasts moving to the rhythm of the beat that is their hearts tuned to the same station.

You look at her. She looks at you.

Abby thinks this ending is better than any book she's ever read.

[fumifooms]

Kabuholm

For me the main appeal of Kabru x Holm is that Holm is 1) dependable and 2) casual.

For 1, we see it throughout the manga and whatnot, with his healer role but also with his composure, so relaxed it’s in turn soothing to hang around him. He’s a bit like a turtle, gentle and takes it at a relaxed pace, slows down your frenzied pace, retreats into his shell if too much is happening hehe… The Mick & Kuro bath comic is a favorite of mine on that front! In that one he complains and shouts, but he still lets Mick crash, he still helps, he still makes them tea and makes sure they have a trashbin and makeshift beds and whatnot lmao, and it’s late too… Reliable dependable Holm.

But also he freezes up when too much is happening <3 Gotta protect him a bit teehee, Kabru coming to his rescue and it’s his chance to show off. Except he doesn’t need to show off, it’s not strategical or needed, neither for his plan or to win Holm over as an ally, but he still will <3 Because he wants to and that on its own, wanting to, feels novel to Kabru… Dungeons is the place where he feels like he can show off the most to Holm because he seems so unaffected in general by his charms, and protecting him is one of the things Kabru knows he can do, and the showing off is because…

… of 2! He has that huge casual vibe to him. Holm still has expectations of Kabru as a leader yes, but he won’t voice them unless prompted and on his face you’ll find the same unbothered calm smile as always. Being around him feels like having no pressure. It feels like being trusted entirely even if your actions seem shady at first, because it’s not a vibe or a persona he trusts in you but it’s you, however you are like in the moment.

Kabru spends time with Holm, around this other repressed guy that has his shit put together (even if Kabru does know about Holm’s flaws, and he feels a special kind of way about that… Collecting that info like pokemon cards and finding that he wished he knew even more <3 so so intrigued and "It’s probably just curiosity. If anything I’m just infatuated" when he realizes it feels a twinge different than with everyone else), and he finds that he feels like he can unwind and show himself a bit. Show some flaws too. Holm being so unconditionally casual AND quietly supportive, even if he doesn’t say anything, would be soo important to Kabru in a kabuholm timeline… A telepathic sort of thing would form where Kabru learns how to read his face, and even if it’s always the same droopy eyed smile he starts understanding how he feels, what he’s thinking, what it means when he nods at him in silence and aughh…

Holm DOESN’T push his emotions onto Kabru!!! Holm keeps that shit to himself!!! Kabru doesn’t have to manage Holm’s emotional needs & states for him, when that’s what he usually has to do for everyone!!! Charm them and keep them happy and if this or that happens then you need to anticipate their needs with this and blahblahblah. Holm is low maintenance, he doesn’t take much emotional energy to deal with, he has his own deal figured out!

Kabru in canon knew about the way Holm freezes up in surprising intense situations, a rare time he’s had to cover for him in any way and he was so quick about it, and again, battlefield with humans both physical and mind games is his specialty so if it’s just protecting him from enemies he’s the man for the job <3 Holm’s the healer to his warrior after all, with an impressive dose of defense and offense thrown into the mix too. I will say also, that scene where Holm hesitates when Marcille says not to hurt Faligon… Kabru stepping in and giving Holm the decisiveness he needed to not falter.

With all that said about Holm’s feelings being something he doesn’t make Kabru’s problem to deal with, in Kabru getting infatuated it should be something that eventually gets him like "I wish he’d rely on me a bit more…" Kabru should massage the stress out of him <3 Always keeping himself composed and being dependable and stuff wears down on Holm (and Kabru)… I do think Holm represses to some degree so 1) the pent up stress he hasn’t been letting out 2) "bro, let’s learn to show our real emotions more together… Bro…"

I’m not sureee how the Holm side plays out in my mind yet but either he falls much later than Kabru or he’s just really good at hiding and being casual about his crush which tbf would be thematic lol. But idk if he’d be that good as that… Thinking. Because with the comic about his sister or even the one about Dia’s fiance or Mick crashing at his place, Holm does like, show a lot of emotion and distaste, some anger, he doesn’t repress that much/everything. He has a sense of duty that makes him want to help where he can, he does have desires like say, Kabru not getting it on with his sister, but also he’s not gonna force himself to be a solemn saint always either… Kabru would also find that fun methinks, figuring out the exact duality in Holm, where he cracks and why. Oh nooo I fell in love with my enrichment and coworker. Them just hanging ouuuut at a tavernnn after everyone else leeeeft… Haven’t done a full Holm analysis yet but I’ve started giving him more thoughts bc of kabuholm and diaholm. Because his religion is important to him and it bars him from meat for example, it’s reasonable to think he sticks to an upstanding moral code with awareness and purpose. Despite having been to jail he’s never shown scorn or shittalked elves or alluded to it, either he doesn’t resent easily or he keeps that part of his past on the down-low for whichever reason. His maturity is actually something that’s often pointed to about him, he’s only the equivalent of like 30, but being close in age (as in they’re both older bc they’re long lived races) is cited as the reason for why he gets along with Dia the most in the party for example. He can be lively, but when he is it’s usually because something’s happening that he doesn’t like lol, also usually off the job, wether it be because of being in a different mind state, doing different things in different situations, or because Kui make so him more expressive in Daydream Hour extras haha.

So kabuholm to me is the casual quiet feel-good get-to-know-each-other slow burn ever. They prob never confess if we’re being honest but even just hanging out around each other fills up their battery somehow, like being at a sauna and feeling refreshed.

So yes sort of, the want to show off someone hard to wow and impress someone who’s very well put together and unfazed, in duality with how that person makes you feel like you shouldn’t or don’t have to try so hard, that you can just catch a break and take it easy for a moment, socially.

He’s observant and composed. I like that he’s able to keep up with Kabru and engage with his points. I do always like when a partner has the capacity to be critical or skeptical, reign in a bit or balance, but Holm is easily swayed with his trust in Kabru, and easily reasoned with to a satisfied degree. He’s low maintenance but still engaging.

Kabru is not only the main character of the group but also his main character point is being good at reading and remembering people: It’s no surprise that the majority of what we learn about Holm is done through him one way or another, but I still like that he’s got Holm’s quirks down pat, like the freezing up thing. Allow me to find that cute idk. And then the reverse of that too below… Underrated how all of his party knows about how he sucks at taking care of himself and his space.

I tried compiling all of their moments but I’m sure I missed some, especially Daydream Hours ones. So yeah my kabuholm manifesto. I’m casual about them but they creeped up on me randomly and have refused to leave my heart. Bromance idk idk

[astralnymphh]

Domestic!Ellie is my addiction.

I need more. You don’t understand. It’s not a want!? It’s a DESIRE A NEEDDDDD!!!!!! Just reading the hc’s, how sweet and soft she is under it all.

When she’s herself again, that goofy dorky nerd we all know her to beeee!!! AGHHH!!!

- 🩵

i see more domestic!farm!ellie than i do domestic!jackson!ellie, and i think the latter needs to be discussed more.

no cuz farm!ellie— as I've definitely claimed before, is very husband coded. on the other hand, a more early–lover, girlfriend who takes care of the child u got knocked up with. which is literally dina, but, i guess if ur' not obliged to the thought of getting knocked up in the first place; gamer dad. i grew up with one, not like he was present 24/7, but like.. ellie? same font alternate story. i also hc ellie does best with boys, idk. just feel it. okay, maybe cause of jj.

stopp staying over at ellie's place for the night n' you bring the lil' guy over swaddled to your chest— legit, sowing two steps upon her doorstep, darkening it, not even getting the chance to knock, nay cast breath over it, and it's swung open and the bundle of wrathful joy nearing the age of two once strapped to you is now ecstatically babbling in your auburnettes arms. tis' fucking magic; how whenever ellie comes in contact with that baby, skies are rainbow–painted and mourning doves are entrancing the whole of jackson with a birdsong. how ur sweet boy, blood of your blood and bone of your bone, weeps gutty murder in the hold of yours truly— but dries of cheek and whorls of smile with ellie, is unfathomable.

"heyy dude, hows my favorite lil' guy in the world doing?" baby–talks ellie, so ooey and cooey as she bounces at the knee, blocking the doorway, "whos' ready to watch mom play the turning? i know mama is, i know you aree." you are but a fragment to her now, a forgotten shadow at her door. that sounds grim but take it literally. she like, literally forgets to kiss you at the door sometimes.

"ellie." comically, you tap your foot, faking a downturned pout left to dry without her kisses, and the cruel wintry air.

snapping her fern eyes up, she jerks a dumbfounded visage— and an even dumber query, "what?"

"my kiss?"

"oh, right.. um," her face relaxes and turns lily–white of innocence, shooting scattered glances at the child as she slants her weight over to you, "hey babe." extending graceful as a swans neck yet devoting you only a measly peck on the mouth measured lesser than a second before she slunk her body back and spun inside, rambling chin–tucked to that child, "ellies' got a new record i think you'll really like.."

lips still baked to a dry, you stare in catatonic quiescence at the eclipsed circle of pale lamp–light streaking around her bun as she paces away from you. step, by step, by hurried step, eager to spill attention with the full force of her coos amusing the easy–to–please mind, garbiling a possible bravo! or huzah!— until nightfall would whistle through the crickets and quiet him to sleep. leaving you, an even larger, tatted up baby now whiny for your attention.

need to see angelgbc photos of jackson!ellie holding jj now

[writerblue275]

Random BF!Heartsteel Headcanons!

Inspiration: You know what, why the hell not? I had these random thoughts and decided to jot them down and expand on them!

Genre: Headcanons

Type: Fluff

Gender: Gender Neutral reader

TW: None besides general swearing (because I swear lol)! This is very fluffy. 💙

Aphelios

Aphelios is an excellent gift giver. It’s not his main love language, but he is SO GOOD at reading people, so finding gifts that he thinks you’d like would come second nature to him. Not necessarily just big or grand things or even clothing. Phel is the type of person to see a cute little thing, like a keychain or pin, and because it makes him think of you, he just gets it for you. (Hehe he’s even gotten you a recepticle/container where you store all your other small gifts from him!

He would absolutely go to Comic Con-esque events and would do a couples cosplay with you if you asked him to and would totally do a professional-level photo shoot to capture your outfits. Aphelios might be cool as hell but this man is a NERD too (hell yeah). Absolutely loves watching an anime/show with you (he won’t even watch ahead because it’s not the same when he’s not watching with you) and gaming with you. He will also gladly game while you’re settled on his lap or whatever.

When he’s tired he’s extremely needy for physical affection. Like if you’re relaxing on the couch, he’ll come over and either lay/sit on you (congrats on your Aphelios model weighted blanket btw. A true one-of-a-kind model) as his way of demanding cuddles. And he’s not subtle about asking for affection either. Alune absolutely has a video of a very tired Phel, who is nuzzled against your neck, taking your hand and placing on his own head to signal he’d like his hair played with (he may or may not have also softly whined).

Ezreal

Ezreal is the king of coordinating outfits with you! And it doesn’t even have to be super overt, like not necessarily wearing the same things as each other. Think more like corresponding colors in your outfits, similar patterns, matching accessories, things that still show off your personal styles, but at the same time, show that you two are a pair. He just really loves to do that. (Also it makes for some extremely cute photos together.)

MUSEUM. DATES. Ez is such a history nerd and it’s so fun to watch his unbridled excitement when you’re visiting museums with him. If it’s a topic he knows a lot about, Ezreal’s going to discuss it with you further in-depth. When he’s traveling he’s even more excited because NEW MUSEUMS OMG. If you’re not with him, he’ll tell you about all the things he saw. (People might think him a bit of an airhead, but nah. Ez is wicked smart for sure.) And he’ll always buy you something cute from the gift shop to memorialize the visit.

The two of you have just the cutest dates in general (even beyond museums). We’re talking amusement parks, arcades, fruit orchards in summer/fall, bowling alleys, etc. All the other super fun shit that you can think of, he plans. Ez just has such fun and bright energy (Hey that’s one of the reasons you fell in love with him!) And he puts so much thought into planning dates for you! As suave as he tries to be, Ezreal still even gets a little nervous before every date just because he really wants you to have a good time. (He’s got those perpetual butterflies for you, fr!)

Kayn

Kayn is a big back hug man. Like it’s his favorite way to hug you and he will do so whenever he has the chance. If you’re hand-washing dishes? Boom, you now have arms around your waist, a chin on your shoulder, and a low voice asking if you want help. Whenever Kayn’s stressed he clings to you from behind and nuzzles your neck and just stays there for a while, blocking out all the bullshit. (Whenever he hugs you from behind he loves when you reach back and play with his hair.)

Whenever he has to leave you for any extended period of time, Kayn always makes sure to bring a clothing item of yours with him. You calm him down the fastest, so when you’re not physically around he wants a piece of you with him to keep himself grounded. Before he leaves, he’ll have you spray whichever item he’s taking with whatever scent you wear. (The opposite is true too btw. Kayn will make sure to leave your favorite hoodie of his with you, and he’ll spray his cologne on it, just so you can always have his comfort with you.

He secretly loves to do skincare nights with you. Listen, Kayn might be chaotic, but you know what isn’t? His skin. Flawless (fucking jealous). The first time you found out your boyfriend had a very rigorous skincare routine, you were shocked. But that shock quickly turned to glee when he asked if you wanted to watch an episode of a show while doing sheet masks with him. Kayn has the good shit too. And so that’s now become a tradition between the two of you. Twice a month you two have a night where you just do masks and serums and all the extra bells and whistles, chatting and watching media while you do. It’s great!

K’Sante

K’Sante loves to discuss art with you. His brain just seems like it would be really interesting to pick on the topic. Especially as someone who is involved in creative endeavors, and uses his sketch pad to design both clothes and other things (take the background effects in the “Paranoia” MV which I believe were designed by him in lore), K’Sante has a deep understanding of artistic concepts (and he’s always happy to show them to you if you aren’t visually artistic). He has a growing art collection and especially loves commissioning local artists to make gifts for you!

K’Sante definitely has a “secret” folder on his drawing tablet dedicated to sketches of you. This folder has both designs he wants to make for you and just sketches of you because he loves to draw you. Often times when the two of you are just quietly spending time together, you’ll notice K’Sante drawing on his tablet, and while he does so, he keeps looking up at you before going back to sketching. Once he’s done with any sort of sketch, whether or not it involves you, he always asks for your thoughts!

K’Sante will absolutely cook for you whenever you ask him to (idc if Sett is the best cook in Heartsteel, you cannot convince me K’Sante can’t throw down in the kitchen almost as well). He absolutely loves to do so, finding it an excellent way to show his love for you. He quickly learns all your favorites so he can make them for you when you need a pick-me-up. And when you let out a happy sigh after the first bite of a meal he makes? It’s lowkey the best reward he could ask for. That wordless praise makes him so happy.

Sett

An odd one, but Sett totally reads romance novels/watches rom coms (though you’re like the only person that knows). If you also enjoy rom coms, then trust that watching a rom com is a very common date night activity for you two. And it’s super fun and sweet to just cuddle with him and watch these cheesy movies (occasionally you just get so comfy cuddling with him you fall asleep before the end of the movie and Sett finds it adorable).

You’re Sett’s guinea pig for new knitting patterns. Whether it’s for a new style of hat he’s making, or if he wants to try a new type of yarn, it’ll always be used in a project for you. Even the experiments that aren’t so successful (which is very rare because he’s a GREAT knitter), you keep because Sett made them for you and that’s really sweet. You always feel how much love he put into each project.

Sett loves when you serve as his work out buddy. You know the cheesy thing where someone lies under a person doing push-ups so that each time the person doing the push up goes down, they get a kiss? He adores doing that with you. Same with sit ups. You waiting to give him a kiss really helps motivate him to do his sit ups properly. Even if you’re not much of a fitness buff, just having you there makes his workouts so much more enjoyable! And Sett’s such an incredible workout partner, always making sure you’re doing things safely and just being so encouraging to you!

Yone

Yone is a big fan of spa days with you. Do you see how stressed this man can get? First of all, the music industry can be BRUTAL. And secondly….his fellow band members are a little….chaotic sometimes. Any sort of relaxation he can get is well deserved. And it can be at an actual spa, but it doesn’t have to be. Yone loves doing at home facials, shower steamers, yoga, and anything else that can help him distress and unwind. And doing that sort of stuff with you makes it 100x more relaxing to him.

Yone is always doing something with his hands. You’ve often caught him tapping out rhythms on his leg with his fingers. Whenever he’s with you, well, you’re somehow involved in that fidgeting. He loves to gently play with your fingers/hands. And when Yone’s holding your hand, he always likes to rub his thumb along your knuckles or gently massage your hands when you’re stressed. He also likes to run his fingers through your hair (if you let him). He finds it soothing when you do it to him, so he wants to return the favor.

Yone has all of your orders/preferences memorized. (I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: The quiet ones are the most perceptive!!!!) Even before the two of you started dating and you were just friends Yone memorized your favorite restaurants so he could help brighten your day. Once the two of you get together that knowledge extends to more domestic things. Like what area of the closet you prefer to keep your pants on. how many blankets you like to sleep with, or which toothpaste or toiletries you like to use. He is just incredibly sweet and thoughtful when it comes to knowing exactly what you like.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed these fluffy thoughts! Things have been so chaotic lately and it was really lovely to get back into writing some more! 💙

[djarincore]

The Name of Love

SUMMARY: You knew him by three names: Mando, Din, and finally, riduur.

PAIRING: din djarin x gn!reader

WORD COUNT: 6.9k

WARNINGS: fluff, angst, canon typical violence, blood, hypothermia, happy ending

A/N: a repost from my previous blog! i've only written 2 full din fics so far but this is def my favorite one <3 thanks again to @xiadeptus for beta reading this

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You first knew him as the Mandalorian, the stoic and aloof bounty hunter that drifted in and out of Tatooine looking for work or ship repairs. The glinting armor was hard not to notice under the scorching twin suns, along with his infamous reputation that followed in whispers—whispers which mainly revolved around the strange, green child he carried around in a bag and the fact that he never showed his face. 

When you first got the job at Peli’s garage, thanks to the favor she owed your mother, the sight of the Mandalorian descending the ramp of his beaten-up Razor Crest had you slipping behind a couple of stacked crates with the rest of the quivering pit droids. He strode down the ramp toward your boss who was already reaching for the green child trailing after him. 

“There’s my little guy!” She exclaimed, scooping him up and cradling him in her arms. The child cooed and clasped her finger in his three-fingered grasp. His keeper watched on with hands on his hips; the helmet remained solely focused on the child. 

“We need a repair,” he said, the rasp in his voice still remaining despite the modulator. 

“Sure thing but, just so you know, it’ll cost you a little extra this time. Got a new hire.” She jerked her thumb in your direction. 

You took it as your cue to reveal yourself, noting the way his helmet turned, carefully looking you up and down, and his hand slowly moved toward the blaster at his waist, like he wasn’t above shooting the harmless mechanic’s assistant and a couple of droids. You lifted both hands, stained with oil, as a show of goodwill.  

“Aw, relax, Mando,” Peli drawled, swatting the air with her nonchalant attitude. “They’re not a droid.” 

His hand slipped off the handle, but remained at his side, ready to draw if necessary. 

You sent him a friendly half-smile and his gloved fingers twitched. 

“Fine.”

The remainder of the day was spent repairing the left wing and engine of his ship, which looked like it had seen the losing side of a gunfight, and you couldn’t help but wonder how he managed to limp down to Tatooine without crashing and burning once he broke through the atmosphere. 

The job would have been faster if you had some assistance from the droids, but Peli made it clear they weren’t allowed anywhere near the ship or the Mandalorian, making his disdain for them abundantly clear. You wondered the whole day what a droid could have done to make him hate even the smallest of droids. The theories you built in your head ran wild, ranging from a nasty betrayal by a trusted ally to tripping him in a crowded cantina, embarrassing him so badly he vowed to never show his face ever again.

You leaned against the rope of the swing suspending you off the ground, taking a break from welding metal back together, and watched the Mandalorian move below your feet. He walked with purpose, something a fearsome bounty hunter with a widespread reputation was expected to do; every step was carefully calculated like a predator hunting prey. Behind him was the child clumsily waddling, as fast as his legs could carry him, after the man. 

Your lips curved into a soft smile while observing the dichotomy of the two. It warmed your heart to see how attached the child was to his guardian. More questions formed in your mind about their relationship; the rumors didn’t contain the exact details of how the two came to be together. 

Maybe the child is his biological son and beneath all the armor is green, wrinkly skin and comically large ears tucked into the helmet, you joked to yourself. 

You pressed one of the buttons on the side of your swing to lower yourself to the ground. Your feet touched the floor, but you didn’t get up. 

“Your ship should be up and running in no time.” 

“Thank you for your help.” 

“No pro- Oh!” You exclaimed when something poked at your leg. A three-fingered hand was tapping your leg; large black eyes gazed up at you. You cooed, “Hello there, little guy.” 

He tugged at the cuff of your pants, waving his arms in the air. You waved back, fighting back the urge to smooth your fingers over his floppy ears.

“He wants you to hold him.” 

“Ah,” you chuckled, cheeks warming. You didn’t have much experience with children; in fact, you didn’t know the first thing about caring for one. They had so many needs, so many different ways of communicating them too. The pressure to mold them into upstanding beings—it was just too much. But, you could definitely hold a child, especially one as cute as him. 

You pulled him into your arms and he immediately found the strings of your shirt vastly entertaining.

“I think he likes me,” you quipped. 

The child’s babble sounded like a positive response. 

“Me too,” the Mandalorian said, leaning against a crate and watching the two of you. 

There were multiple rotations between their visits. Each visit brought a new scratch, ding, or completely wrecked engine that made you look on in disbelief, but you were eager to see the two nonetheless. They brought stories of their adventures, bounties, and new people they met. 

You would be the first to greet them, standing at the base of the ship’s ramp with a wide grin and many questions budding on the tip of your tongue. 

“Hey.” 

The modulated voice made you snap out of your thoughts. 

“Yes, sir?” 

You could hear him huff behind the modulator. He said to just call him Mando the first time you called him sir, but you never picked it up, finding it too entertaining to hear his exasperated sighs. 

“Want to get off this planet? I’ve got a job proposition.” 

Your goodbyes were easy—a hug for Peli, head pats for each droid—and suddenly, you found yourself sitting in the cockpit of the ship you had been repairing for the past few rotations. 

You quickly learned space was cold and you were not prepared. The thin clothes you were used to on Tatooine wouldn’t cut it anymore and it left you shivering in the passenger seat. 

You sunk down your seat, wrapping your arms around yourself to find a semblance of warmth. 

You weren’t sure what your purpose was in the time between ports, but even if you knew, you were frozen to your seat and unable to move without feeling stiff. 

Soon, you fell asleep, lulled by the stars and the sound of beeps and hollow groans of an old ship.

You woke to fabric being draped over your body and a glimmer of beskar. 

The hands over the fabric paused; the Mandalorian stepped back, hands returning to his side, flexing at his waist. “Should have told me you were cold.”

You gripped the fabric and realized it was one of his thick, woolen capes which smelled of caf beans and leather. You resisted the urge to nestle your cheek against the wool and savor the comfort it offered.

“I didn’t want to be a bother.” 

“You’re a part of my crew now,” he said firmly. “We take care of each other.” 

Your heart stuttered, fingers curled tighter around his cape, and you muttered a pathetic, “Yeah.” 

From the kindness he offered, you made a silent promise at that moment; as long as the three of you were together, you would do anything to protect them. 

It wouldn’t be long before you realized he felt the same. 

—

Then, you learned his name, his real name—Din Djarin. It had been a while into your partnership. You learned far more about the two than your theories could have imagined—his Creed, his force-wielding child. 

The three of you had a good routine. He would scout out bounties while you either worked on the ship or found other mechanic work elsewhere if the ship was (miraculously) undamaged. Grogu would be passed between the two of you. If Mando’s bounty was too dangerous for him to follow you’d take him for the day, letting him pass you random tools and praising him for helping. And at the end of the day, the three of you reconvened with separate checks that would go toward supplies and other basic necessities. If it was a particularly rough day, you would be forcing him onto a crate and checking his wounds. 

“I’m fine,” he would insist, attempting to push your wandering hands aside. But, you could see the unsteady shake of his hand and the sliver of skin and blood showing on his waist where he was cut. 

It was a simple routine, but it worked. You had no complaints… 

…Well, just one.

“ Kriff, we’re gonna crash!” You cried, shutting your eyes to avoid seeing your imminent doom that took the form of two towering cliffs of ice far too close together for the ship to slip through. The two tailing bounty hunter ships had followed you from Nevaro, after accusing Mando of stealing a bounty from them, which he rightfully caught. 

You knew working for a bounty hunter wasn’t going to be easy, comfortable, or safe—but, you trusted him. He was good at what he did and you never doubted it. 

The ship turned on its side, jerking your entire body to the right, and left you at the mercy of the belt across your body to keep you in your seat. You could hear the scrape of ice across the bottom of the ship and cringed, knowing you’d have to repair that (if you even made it out of this alive). 

When the ship slipped free from the narrow gap and straightened. you let out a breath and opened your eyes. Snow, miles, and miles of it, touched everything your eyes could see. 

He glanced at you over his shoulder. If you could see his face, you’d guess it was smug. 

You were getting better at reading your faceless partner. He didn’t say much but his body did with every head tilt and shrug. And you would catch yourself spending a lot of time just observing him. 

“You’ve gotta stop piloting like that,” you huffed, cradling your head when you feel the slightest throb. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

“Don’t plan on it,” came his monotone response. 

The ship cruised, his helmet scanning the horizon, and kept low in the meantime. There was no sign of the other two ships. 

You unbuckled your seatbelt and stood; a wave of dizziness had you staggering. When your hand flew out to catch on to something, you found his, already reaching out to steady you in his strong grasp. The brush of his thumb over your knuckles made your breath catch.

“I have to lie down.” To stop your heart from racing at his subtle touches. 

You thought you had gotten used to it by now—the way he made you feel safe. Whether it was his hand hovering over the base of your spine as he guided you through a crowded market or how he would always position himself between you and whatever shady character he had dealings with. The small gestures piled up and toyed with your mind. You understood the signs—heart racing, nervous tension in your chest—the budding symptoms of love. 

“We’re not in the clear yet.” 

You brushed the heat crawling over your neck off and said, “Can’t we land somewhere and wait them out a while? I’m gonna be sick if you start flying upside down.”

The beginning of his argument was cut off by the cockpit door opening. You slipped out and down the ladder into the cargo hold. Some crates shifted to the right of the ship as a result of the sharp turn. You weren’t concerned with them as much as you were with your makeshift bed space, a flimsy sleeping bag and some blankets, which were also flung off to the side. One of your blankets was stuck under a crate, too heavy for you to lift by yourself. 

You groaned, weakly tugging at the fabric peeking out beneath. You were cold, tired, and sick—you already hated this planet. 

You heard a curse from above and Mando shouted, “Hold onto something!” 

You didn’t have time to react before the ship was nose-diving, throwing you against the wall. You clung to the ladder as the ship's sporadic movements jostled your entire body. It continued for a few more seconds before settling and the engines cut out. Everything was finally still, except your heart. 

You heard the creaks of ice settling beneath the ship, then cracks. It wasn’t long before the ice gave way to the weight, shattering into a cavern below and dragging the ship with it. 

You don’t remember hitting your head, just the scream that came before it. But, when you finally came to, numb and confused, Mando was rattling your shoulders with a panicked voice.

“Wake up.” 

You could have sworn in your daze there was a desperate ‘please’ added at the end. 

You groaned, peeling your eyes open, “Mando?” 

He sighed like a massive weight was lifted off of him. “Yeah,” he said, there was a hint of a smile in his voice. He carefully slipped his arms behind your shoulders and knees. “It’s me. I’ve got you.”

You were half aware of him lifting you, too dazed by the cold settling under your skin and making a home deep in your bones.  

The hull was dusted with snow and frost. You spotted a large hole in the side of the ship, crudely covered with a tarp and some crates. 

“Got t’ fix,” you mumbled, leaning your head against his shoulder pauldron. You didn’t even know where to start with something that large on this barren planet. If you weren’t so cold, the dread would have set in, realizing you were stranded on a barren planet with little resources to dig yourselves up from a cold grave. 

“Not right now,” he grunted, kicking your toolbox aside—the one he gifted you on Nevaro after you eyed it at a stall for too long. He approached the small corner beside his bunk, which was caved in, where there was little snow piled. He set you down, supporting the back of your head with his hand as he laid you against the wall. “I’ll be right back.” 

You could’ve protested if your mouth or eyes didn’t feel frozen shut; all you wanted to do was drift off.

“Hey, hey,” he said. He ripped a glove off and pressed his warm hand to your cheek. “Don’t fall asleep.”

You moaned, pushing closer to the warmth, and tried to focus on his visor. 

“There you go. Good.” 

With your thoughts slowly catching up, you glanced around his shoulders, not seeing a floating pram anywhere. You wanted to get up and rush around him in search of the child, but all you could muster was a sharp turn of your head that still sent pain down your neck. “Where’s-”

Mando brought your face back to him. His steady voice pulled you out of your panic. “He’s fine. He’s up in the cockpit; I’ll bring him down after I get you some blankets.” 

“Okay.” You rested your head against the wall and watched as he untied his cape and slipped it over your shoulders, tucking it close around your body. 

He disappeared up the ladder. You heard his faint footsteps, scouring the upper level. He returned soon, a few blankets slung over his shoulder and Grogu tucked in his other arm. 

He set Grogu down and moved you forward just enough for him to sling more blankets over your shoulders.

If you could feel your face, maybe you’d laugh at how ridiculous you looked and felt, like a small child being coddled by a worried parent. But, he wasn’t a worried parent, he was your employer—your incredibly kind and caring employer, who you often dreamt of as more than an employer, more than a friend. 

“Aren’t y-you,” you chattered, “cold, too?” 

You worried about him under all that shining armor; he could be hiding an injury like he always did, pretending he was fine and limping off somewhere else to lick his wounds alone. You wished he wouldn’t be so stubborn all the time. 

Grogu crawled into your lap, playing with the tips of your frozen fingers. Mando said something about his armor keeping him warm, but you didn’t register any of it when his hands enveloped yours—calloused and warm.  

“Try to keep your arms and legs moving,” he said, massaging the palm of your hands. Then he directed his attention to Grogu. “Okay, kid, keep your buir warm. I’m going to repair the ship.” 

“Hm?” You cocked your head at the word. Sure, he liked sneaking Mando’a words into his sentences from time to time—sometimes calling you mesh’la or cyar’ika, which made you blush because of how sincere he sounded—but you just assumed they were nicknames. You assumed buir meant babysitter or something along those lines, too. “Stealing my job, Mando?” you quipped instead. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

When his hands slipped from yours, your fingers twitched, almost asking him not to go. You would warm up faster if he were with you.

He slipped past the tarp, into the cavern of snow. Grogu’s babble drew your attention; his arms were raised.

You apologized, “Sorry, kid, I’d lift you up, but my arms are a bit sore right now.”

He continued to babble as he found comfort nestled in your lap instead. You rested your head against the wall and stared at the opening where Mando left, still feeling the ghost of his warmth on your hand. 

The minutes you spent slowly flexing your hands and feet paid off; your strength was slowly returning. Grogu crawled off of your lap and watched as you, with the grace of a newborn calf, pushed yourself onto unsteady feet.

“Okay, kid, let’s go help your dad.” You scooped him up and braced yourself with Mando’s cape, making sure the two of you were snug beneath the fabric before pushing aside the tarp and stepping outside into the frigid weather. 

The cold winds were the first to greet you; already, your cheeks were growing numb. Grogu let out a disapproving grunt, clearly not favoring the cold either. 

You stayed close to the side of the ship in case your legs gave out and rounded the tail end before finding Mando, with frost coating his armor and hands on his hip, staring at a jumble of wires hanging from an open panel. 

Upon seeing his father, Grogu cheered in your arms, alerting the Mandalorian whose head snapped in your direction. 

He was already approaching you before declaring, “You need to rest.” 

“I can’t cozy up in there while you’re out here all by yourself. Look at you.” You drew a line in the frost coating his chest plate. “You must be freezing under all that.” 

“I said I’m-”

“Fine,” you finished. “I know, I know—you’re always fine, Mando.” 

You were growing tired of his stubborn attitude concerning his well-being and of standing for so long. You were beginning to sway without realizing it, but Mando’s quick hand on your shoulder steadied you. 

“I got you,” he murmured. He took Grogu from you and moved to your side. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, silently guiding you back into the ship’s hull and onto the spot where the blankets were piled. 

Once you were settled, you expected him to wander back out but, to your surprise, he began detaching pieces of his armor. 

You watched, mouth agape, as one by one the shining beskar revealed a dark flight suit that molded with the contours of his body. The helmet, of course, stayed.

He eased himself onto the floor beside you and wrapped the three of you beneath the blankets. Your eyes widened when his arm pressed against yours. You dared to rest your head against his shoulder; you relished in the comfort of his presence, finally feeling warmer than ever. His body began to relax gradually with your head on his shoulder and his chest rose and fell in an even rhythm. 

With Grogu resting in your lap it almost felt like the three of you were a family, settling in after a long day. 

“You’re always protecting everyone,” you said, exhaustion beginning to creep over you once again. “We’re a crew, right? Let me take care of you too.” 

You knew the irony in saying that while he was taking care of you, but you hoped he would remember it. 

He slipped his gloves off to flex the stiff muscles. “I’m,” he started, “just not used to this.” 

“Having a crew?” You guessed. 

“Having someone care.”

Your mouth dropped open with a response dying on your tongue. Instead, you resolved to take his hand and curl your fingers through his. They were stiff from the cold, but relaxed once your thumb ran over the ridges of his knuckles. 

“You’re a good man and I trust you with my life. Don’t think for a second I don’t care about you, Mando. I-” You cut yourself off.

You what? Loved him? Kriff. He just started opening up to you. Telling him you were in love with him right after would surely make him run in the other direction. You doubted he felt the same. You could read him, but not that well. 

“Din.”

You snapped out of your thoughts, relieved he didn’t attempt to figure out what you were going to say. “What?” 

“My name’s Din.” 

He was looking at you now. Maybe if you squinted hard enough you could catch a glimpse of his eyes behind his darkened visor, but you wouldn’t disrespect his Creed and you didn’t think you could handle seeing his strong gaze, boring into you. 

So, you turned your eyes down toward your intertwined hands; you tested his name on your tongue and smiled. 

Getting off the ice planet took work—a mix of frustration and determination—and you swore to get a nice vacation on some far, far away planet, preferably with a warm, sunny beach. 

But, the ship needed heavier repairs, forcing the three of you to find the nearest planet, Trask, for maintenance. A dock worker was quick to offer his services, charging more than necessary, once you landed. 

You frowned when Din agreed without hesitation, dropping the credits into his slimy hands. You could have rolled up your sleeves and got to work yourself with better equipment at hand, but Din insisted on the three of you getting some real rest after the stress of the past three days. 

The place was seedy, smelled of fish, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of unwanted eyes stalking the three of you as you passed through the quiet harbor. You and Din walked on either side of Grogu’s floating pram. 

You, with a scowl glued to your face, pulled your cape, one of Din’s, tighter around yourself. The toolbox Din gifted you was clasped in your hand, deemed too precious to leave behind while strangers fixed the ship. You leaned into Din and whispered, “We should just go back to Tatooine for the repairs; I can do it.”

“I know you can, but the ship’s too damaged and you know it.”

You huffed. 

Grogu mimicked your huff, putting on his best grouchy face, and your frown lightened into a smile, pointing at the boy. “See—even he agrees with me.”

Din let out an amused hum. “When did the two of you decide to team up against me?” 

“We hold secret meetings when you’re out and conspire against you.” 

“Guess I should watch my back,” he deadpanned. 

Night fell quickly on Trask and before you knew it, the streets were oddly quiet, only lit by dim street lights in rounded sections. 

Din’s stride grew cautious; his helmet subtly turned to scan the area. 

You also took caution, straining your ears for anything out of place, but all you heard was the nearby tide pulling in and out. 

There was a shift in the gravel behind you. Din’s hand shot out to shove aside Grogu’s pram, sending him off to a nearby stack of crates, and he could only brush your shoulder before turning and deflecting a blaster shot with his vambrace. The heat from the blast radiated in the air around you. 

“Run!” He barked, ripping his blaster from its holder and firing off a shot into the dark. 

Your feet hesitated and your heart stuttered when another blast hit his chest plate, forcing a grunt from him. But, the sound of worried coos snapped you out of it. You turned and ran toward Grogu who watched the fight with large eyes.  

Three figures emerged from the darkness, dressed like pirates, and armed with unrelenting blasters all aimed at Din.  

“Give up the armor, Mando.” One of them demanded.

“It’s time to hide, okay?” You said, tucking Grogu into the pram. Your thumb brushed over the mythosaur necklace he always wore like a lucky charm and you were praying it would work. You pressed the button on the outside of his pram to shut it. 

The fight was coming to a close by the time you turned back, much to your relief. Two were knocked out cold, sprawled across the floor while the remaining one continued to fight. Both of them resorted to hand-to-hand combat after they managed to disarm one another. 

Just when you thought you could relax, the remaining pirate pulled out a blade and took a swipe at Din, plunging it deep into his side and back out. Your breathing stopped when Din staggered and fell to his knees. 

The pirate grabbed him by his cowl, pressing the bloodied blade to his throat, and sneered, “Give up.” 

Your hands shook. Not like this, you thought. You couldn’t— wouldn’t —lose him. You dropped your toolbox and fell to your knees, wrenching it open to look for anything that would help. You pulled the largest item free, the hammer, and ran. Adrenaline pushed your feet toward the two and, putting all your weight into it, you swung at the pirate's head, sending him stumbling back.

Only dazed, the pirate sent you a menacing glare, lips pulled back into a snarl, and spat out curses, promising you’d regret it. 

Your hand clenched the hammer, heart racing, ready to swing again as he prepared to lunge at you. Not even fear or the promise of death would stop you from saving Din.  

Then, something ignited, cold and droning like echoes of the abyss, behind the pirate. 

You smelt the smoke before the nauseating burnt flesh. It made your stomach roll.

A haunting glow emitted from the pirate's chest before it was sliced clean through. He fell—lifeless—with a thud, crimson leaking from the gash and pooling around him. 

Din stood over him—one hand clutching his waist and the other holding the darksaber. His chest rose and fell; his helmet was fixated on the body. You could hear the leather of his gloves cry as his hand tightened around the hilt of the saber.  

You never saw him use it before. It looked more like an accessory on him rather than a weapon. He once explained its bloody history and how he came to acquire it. The weight of its importance haunted him, a burden he never wished to bear. 

“Oh, Maker,” you cried, rushing toward him. The darksaber unignighted; the heavy atmosphere disappeared along with it and time continued. You dropped the hammer and pressed your hand to his wound. Blood seeped through his fingers and onto yours. 

He grunted, “I’m…” 

Your wavering voice saying his name made him pause. 

“Let’s get out of the street,” he said instead. He waved Grogu’s pram forward with the controls on his vambrace. It opened, revealing the whimpering child. 

The three of you limped all the way to an inn. When the innkeeper sent you a weary look, you demanded the first room available and a medical kit—whatever the price. After slapping the credits on the counter, you snatched up the kit and dragged Din toward the room, not caring about the drops of blood staining the hallway.  

The room was small and gray; a single bed set in the middle of the room, a nightstand on either side, and a fresher. You eased him onto the bed, where he slumped and groaned.

The medical kit was meager; a suture kit, antiseptic wipes, and a few bacta patches, but it would do. You dashed to the fresher to wash your hands. You scrubbed them viciously, watching his blood run down the sink. Tears blurred your vision. The red wouldn’t stop running. 

When you emerged from the fresher, his shirt was already rolled up and he was attempting to clean his wound. Grogu was asleep in his pram, wiped out from all the excitement. 

You released a tired sigh. “Let me.” 

You moved to take the cloth from him, kneeling at his feet and wiping around the area of the wound gently.

“Don’t do that again,” he rasped.

“Save your life?” The playful tone you attempted fell flat. As much as you wanted to be amused, the fear of losing him still suffocated you. He was safe, your thoughts repeated.

Once the wound was cleaned you pulled the needle from the kit. You were in over your head and a bit nauseous. Cleaning wounds was easy, but stitching them up was something else. 

You’ve seen him cauterize his own wounds and pinched your nose when the smell became too much. He didn’t deserve the scars they left behind and this was your opportunity to finally take care of him. 

You willed your hands not to tremble as you notched the needle through his skin, apologizing when he sucked in a sharp breath or flinched.

“I told you to run.”

Your voice was finally firm when you said, “I’m not going to leave you.” 

He was your partner, through and through, and you cared for him. 

When you were finished, you unwrapped a bacta patch and laid it over the suture. You smoothed over the patch and withdrew your hands. 

He was already sitting up taller, no longer hunched over or wheezing. You knew it was a good sign but you still trembled all over.

You raised your head, but your eyes were stuck on his cowl where a sliver of his blood was left from the blade. The tears were returning, flooding your bottom lashes. 

Would that pirate have killed him right there on the street, stripped him of his armor, and left him like trash? You would have had to drag his body back to the ship—would have to tell Grogu his father was dead. 

“Cyar’ika, look at me,” he said, finding your cheek with his palm. “Just breathe.” 

You didn’t realize you were gasping for breath, tears running down your cheeks until your eyes finally connected with his visor. 

“I just can’t lose you, Din,” you cried. “I can’t .”

There was so much you wanted to say—so much he needed to know. You were so close to losing him and losing the chance to admit how you’d grown to feel over the course of your partnership.

He guided you onto the bed and held you until the tears stopped and subsided into sniffles. Your face was buried in his cowl and your arms were thrown around his shoulder. 

“I can’t lose you either,” he admitted, a waver in his voice. You were so close you could almost hear the sound of his real voice. His words were tender and sincere. 

Your breath hitched and a realization washed over you. 

He pulled back and you pulled yourself out of his neck with wide eyes. Cold metal met your forehead. 

“You mean far too much to me.” 

For a man of few words, he still said so much. Your hand brushed below the rim of his helmet. “I love you, Din,” you confessed.

Your heart pounded as you waited for his response—for even the sharpest intake of breath. But, it was silent—all but your heart remained still as he processed your words. Your hand slipped away, back to the safety of your personal bubble, which was beginning to shrink as the silence became an oppressive weight on your shoulders. 

Say something, you wanted to shout. Did you read his words wrong? Was it just appreciation for his… employee? 

“Close the curtains and turn off the light.”

Your brows furrowed and you cocked your head to the side. “What?”

“Please.”

You stood with a frown and shuffled to shut the curtains, then made your way to the light switch. You took one last glance over your shoulder, before flipping the switch and submerging the room in darkness. You could hardly see his silhouette as you shuffled back to the bed with your hands out in front.

A calloused hand found your wandering ones, carefully pulling you down to sit beside him once again, not letting go. Then, you heard a click and a hiss, like he was detaching his—

Your eyes widened when you realized what he was doing and you tried pulling away. Even in the darkness, where shadows fell across the silhouette of his body, you couldn’t risk seeing him—no matter how curious. 

“Din, no-” 

“It’s alright,” he reassured. The low rasp of his voice was no longer modified by his helmet. He chased after you in the dark; his hand moved to the back of your neck, drawing your face closer to his. You could feel the warmth of his breath brushing across your lips. 

The smell of caf and leather drew you closer you and you fell into its embrace. It was your safety, your haven—the home you found in him, along with his son and his beaten-down ship. 

“ Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika, ” he whispered into the darkness, gentle devotion laced in his words. “ I love you .” 

When he kissed you, it was slow, a tender meeting of lips which you both relaxed into. The weight off your shoulders disappeared and all you could do was smile against his lips and draw him closer. 

That night you traced his features in the dark, committing every outline and curve to memory, with a content smile and full heart while he held you close. You didn’t need to see his face to love him; it could wait—forever if it meant you’d still have him.

“You know,” he said in the darkness with you tucked close under his arm, “you wield a hammer well. It reminds me of someone I know.”

“Really? Who?”

It was nearly a full cycle before you met the Armorer, the mysterious figure Din would mention from time to time, a woman he seemed to respect. 

You were nervous. Though he never said it directly, she was like a maternal figure and you wanted to make a good impression. 

Ever since Trask, the two of you were closer than ever. He had no reservations when it came to you. His hand would lay firmly against your lower back as he crowded around you, guiding you through busy markets, pulling you close whenever someone bumped into you. You no longer slept alone, trading out your flimsy sleeping bag for a cozy spot in his bed. At night when the lights were out, you’d finally get to kiss him and share dreams. 

The covert was located on a barren planet. You wouldn’t have guessed there was any life if it weren’t for the scattered Mandalorian sparing at the mouth of a cave. 

By the time you landed near the lake, only two Mandalorians emerged to greet you. 

“It’s been a while.” A large, blue man said upon approaching, greeting the three of you with a simple nod. He towered over everyone, a mass of muscle and armor that radiated intimidation. 

As he approached, your foot slid back as you bent your neck to meet his visor and you bumped into Din. He rested a hand on your shoulder. “This is Paz, my brother.” 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said, sticking a hand out. 

The hand that takes yours is firm; he shook once and let go. The hand on your shoulder squeezed. 

“It seems your clan has grown.” The figure to Paz’s right spoke, her visor trained on the hand over your shoulder. You needed no introduction for her. It was obvious in the way she spoke, authoritative and clear, that she was the Armorer. 

Your lips quirked. A clan, huh? 

She welcomed you briefly and Din requested a private audience in her forge. When Din handed Grogu off to you, he said, “Stay with Paz, cyar’ika.”

“Cyar’ika?” The Armorer paused. “Have you claimed them as your riduur?”

You cast Din a curious glance. Riduur?

“I… haven’t,” he said carefully.

“I see.” She resumed her pace and disappeared into the cave.  

Din followed, not before pressing his forehead to yours. It was like a kiss, he explained once. You were fine with it. You knew as soon as the day was over, he’d make up for all the kisses you’d missed out on.

“He seems to like you.”

“I would hope so,” you quipped, turning to Paz once Din was out of sight. “He loves me, after all.”

You finally got your well-deserved vacation—on a planet called Pabu, with bright blue skies and a sparkling blue ocean—and more than you could have ever wished for. 

Gentle waves lapped at your bare feet as you leaned back against the palm of your hands to soak in the last of the dying sun. 

Relaxing like this felt rare and fleeting; part of you was worried some other danger would rear its ugly head and ruin the tranquility. But, a quick glance toward Grogu, who was splashing in the water, and Din, standing watch to make sure he didn’t snatch up any crabs as a snack, dispelled any worry and replaced it with a warmth that spread through your chest like the sun's rays. 

You cracked a smile at the Mandalorian who was barefoot as well, after you convinced him to step into the waves, with his pants rolled up to the bottom of his knees. 

“Stop that,” came Din’s chastising demand. Grogu was levitating a poor crab toward his mouth before letting it fall back into the water with a grumble, his ears pulled back as he looked up at his father with a pout. “You’ll ruin your dinner,” he reasoned, reaching down to scoop the fussing child from the water. 

You stood, wiping away sand clinging to your thighs, and walked over to the pair. Din’s helmet followed you as you approached, his shoulders were far more relaxed than you’d ever seen them. 

Even when you stood in front of them, finger brushing along Grogu’s ear as he cooed, his gaze did not stray. You just thought it was your bathing suit; it showed off more skin than usual. Which, you admit, you hoped would catch his attention.  

“Problem?” You teased, looking at him with a sly smile. 

He shook his head slowly. He was uncharacteristically quiet, more so than usual. Ever since his private chat with the Armorer, he’d been distracted. Staring more than usual—at you, the controls of the ship, the floor—like he was lost deep in thought. 

You looked out at the sunset, a wash of orange and gold against a glittering sea. You let out a wistful sigh. “I could spend forever here with you two.”

“You mean that?” 

“Nothing would make me happier.”

His hand drifted toward the pouch on his belt, fingering the hem. A nervous habit, you assumed, he picked up after visiting the Armorer. 

You rested your hand on his and asked, “Are you sure there’s no problem?” 

“Marry me.”

You froze, mouth agape.

“M-marry you?”

“I wish for more days like today, too—safe, peaceful days together with our son.” He opened his pouch and pulled out a silver ring that glittered against the setting sun, reminding you of his armor. 

Your hand slipped from his to your mouth, covering up the shock written across your face. Your watering eyes moved between the two who’ve grown so close to your heart. They were your life, your home, and you’d spend forever with them. You knew your answer—you’ve always known, ever since he asked you to join them. In your heart it was always—

“Yes,” you cried, throwing your arms around the two of them. “Yes, absolutely!” 

You stayed tucked in his arms with Grogu nestled between the two of you. And, in the foreground of a golden sky, he asked if you would cite the Mandalorian vows. 

Riduur, he said, you would be mine, and I you. Our hearts will be written together in song.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”

“We are one when together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors.”

Finally, he was no longer just the Mandalorian or Din, he was your riduur. 

[theoceansluvr]

Llyod Garmadon x Reader

warnings; daddy issues and trauma.. it's llyod what do you expect? author's notes; by popular demand, aka one of my favorite ppl told me i should do it, my ninjago obsession !!! was gonna keep this to myself bc this is the nerdiest thing i will ever write on this blog but <9 kind of a mix of relationship hcs and regular old hcs

oooo he's so sweet i can't even describe it

doesn't really know how to do typical couple things i fear

mainly because he's scared that your either with him due to some ulterior motive or you'll get scared of him considering his past and father-

please please reassure this poor boy he's on the brink of a collapse from overthinking it

onto the normal, non sad headcanons !

biggest pillow fort building fan

most of you dates consist of sitting in one and watching really bad horror movies

oh and carmel popcorn !

if we're using the idea of him not being a lil Lego guy, he'd be one of those dudes with the BIGGEST Lego collection

(do i talk about Legos too much in my headcanons ???)

he will actually sit down and tell you about how long each of them took in full detail it's adorable

makes you a playlist every other day fr

i know that's more of a Cole thing but i like to think music is one of his ways to relax so he has some crazy good music taste

you guys have those frog build a bears or just any build a bear honestly

but he reminds me of the frog

you know those cute little Lego hearts ? you guys would have those

his is your favorite color and yours is green

he would totally walk you to class but would absolutely be nervous because he's not exactly the class favorite..

but you don't mind !

really creative when it comes to gifts and whatnot

like handmade cards and stuff like that

sort of went over dates already BUT

COMIC STORE DATES !!!

i will argue with nobody over this one either

probably a Marvel fan

would ironically like green latern though

doesn't really mind pda but absolutely isn't used to it

but in private he's the biggest cuddler

really, really likes when you play with his hair

i have zero explanation for this except for because i said so

based on art from one of my favorite artists on insta he would unironically wear those middle school boy minecraft fits

i love him dearly but the gods know he does

dyed his hair with koolaid once and it absolutely made him want to ACTUALLY dye it

likes when you read to him

it could be the most boring book on the planet and he'd know lay there and listen to you

knows how to play drums ???

definitely would teach you too

likes taking naps with you because he's chronically sleep deprived

fighting your dad and his henchmen doesn't come cheap im afraid

i could write about him for hours and hours but im sure people would get bored of that !!

all in all he's one of my favorite childhood crushes and i missed him so hard

[pretty-red-garnet]

Pumpkins and Candy

Daryl Dixon x fem! Reader • Commonwealth • Fluff

Happy Halloween!

It was Halloween in the Commonwealth. Your eyes danced between all the different venders handing out treats, each one sweeter than the last. The day was warm, the sun cascading over the large street festival. People crowded the streets, kids in costumes followed by their parents.

You never imagined you'd be celebrating Halloween after the end of the world.

You moved your gaze to instead look at Daryl, sweetly playing and talking with RJ. You begin to smile without even meaning to. The sight was unbelievably adorable, you'd even say domestic. Daryl smiling and tossing an apple on a string for little RJ to catch.

Daryl with the kids was always something you'd watched with great adoration. It seemed kids were just drawn to him, and he never minded. He was so good with them. In fact, it was watching Daryl with little Jude that made you realize you were in love with the man.

It was after Rick died, after you'd known him for about a year. Daryl was gone more often than not then, but he always made sure to be there for his niece and nephew. Always hugging and holding them tight first thing when he arrived back to Alexandria for trading.

Judith was young, and jumped into his arms so fast he almost fell back. He smiled so brightly, so genuinely. Your heart fell to your stomach so fast it made you sick. You were down bad, and it wasn't going away any time soon.

     And now that you and him were neighbors in the same shitty building, you were closer than ever. Having dinner together most nights when he was too tired to cook, watching the kids when he was busy, spending most of your free time together. You were both pretty much attached at the hip. You'd even call him your best friend. He was the one person you knew you could count on for anything.

     "You are so smitten," Carol says, breaking you out of your stupor with a startle. You roll your eyes and giggle a little, although it sounds more awkward and tense than you intended.

     "Am not." Her elbow meets your ribs and she grins at you.

     "Smitten as a kitten." You purse your lips at her to stop your smirk, although it breaks through.

     "You're ridiculous," you say, crossing your arms and turning away from her slightly to return your eyes to Daryl. "Aren't you supposed to be handing out cookies or something? Or do you get paid to bother me?"

     Carol laughs and shakes her head. She watches as you— not so discretely— gawk at Daryl. She lets out a deep sigh.

     "Why don't you just tell him?" She asks.

     "Tell him what?" You retort, playing dumb and not meeting her gaze.

     "That you're in love with him!"

     "Shhh!" Your eyes glance around almost comically, making sure no one hears the woman. "I am not!"

"If you weren't, you wouldn't care if anyone heard." She rises an eyebrow, making you scowl and scoff at her. Carol was the type of person that can always read others. She was always watching, she knew how everyone thought. It was pretty scary.

"I didn't want Daryl to hear!"

"Didn't want me to hear what?" Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Daryl stands beside you, watching you with a curious expression. Your mouth opens, then closes. You struggle to come out with a response, mind totally blank.

"Uh," you mumble. "Nothing." Daryl furrows his brows, regarding you with a look somewhere between concerned and straight up confused.

"I guess the secret is out, Y/N," Carol says, melodramatically with a shrug. "You should just tell him."

Your face blanches, your mouth continues to gasp like a fish. Daryl looks even more confused now, looking between you and Carol.

"That you're cooking Daryl's favorite meal tonight!" Carol says, excitedly. You let out a breath. While now you have to make dinner instead of relaxing at home like you'd planned, at least it was a save. Somewhat.

"You don't gotta do that," Daryl says, looking at you with that adorably concerned expression he always has when someone tries doing anything for him. His brow pinched and teeth biting the inside of his cheek.

"She wants to, Daryl," Carol says, placing her hands on her hips. You look from Daryl to Carol, feeling strange and helpless that Carol was speaking on your behalf with you right there. It was a little nice though, since the near-revelation of your romantic feelings for Daryl was still making your mind swim.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," you finally stumble out, awkwardly and with a stutter. "Sorry to spoil it."

"Don't gotta be sorry, I shouldn't have listened in," he says with a shrug and a little half smile that made your heart pound. "We'll go to yours tonight then?"

     "Actually!" Carol buts in again. "I'll take Judith and RJ trick or treating. It could be just you two tonight." Carol's smile is a weird combination of scary and Betty Crocker. She's setting up a date.

     "You sure?" Daryl asks, only to be met with Carol's enthusiastic nod. "Alright, sure. I better get back to the kids." Daryl steps away and once he's out of sight, you immediately wack Carol on the shoulder.

     "What?!" Carol yelps. "You should be thanking me."

     "Thanking you?" You ask, incredulously. "That was so embarrassing."

     "I got you a date, Y/N. Yes, thank me."

Hours later, and dinner is done. Your apartment is warm and humid from the stove, but the delicious smell of seared meat makes the heat bearable. Your stir fry of squirrel meat and rice sit on the counter, awaiting Daryl's visit. You aren't quite sure if the stir fry was Daryl's favorite meal, but he did mention he liked it best of your cooking.

He's a little late. He was supposed to come by yours right after the Halloween masquerade party, but he still hasn't shown. You sit at your table, picking at your fingernails and tapping your foot. Your eyes keep glancing over at your clock on the wall and you sigh at every passing minute.

You know your destress is a little dramatic. You usually wouldn't be this anxious, but Carol's label of a 'date' rattling around in your brain made tonight feel different. Besides, Daryl is a busy man.

He worked all day, he could be tired. Maybe he forgot? Although it did seem out of character for Daryl to just not show up, he wasn't the type to stand people up.

Your worry is quickly cut short by three quick knocks at the door. You smile and quickly make your way to the door, swinging it open.

"Hey," you greet, moving aside for him to enter.

"Hey," he answers, pointing at the little bucket of candy you have beside your door propped up by two pumpkins. There's a little 'take one' sign that you hand painted accompanying it. "I know I ain't a kid, can I have one anyway?"

"Sure, obey the sign," you say, teasingly smiling at him. He scoffs a little, digging his hand in the bowl and pulling out two candies. You gasp, placing a hand on your chest and looking at Daryl with a dramatic expression on your face. "How could you?"

A smirk takes over Daryl's face before he covers it with another scoff, shaking his head. He pushes you aside to enter your warm apartment, immediately pulling at the neck of his long sleeved shirt.

"Ones for you, dumbass," Daryl says before he smacks your shoulder with a candy. You take it immediately to unwrap it and pop it into your mouth. It was your favorite candy that the little shop in the middle of town makes, and it warms your heart that Daryl remembered which is your favorite.

     "Come on, dinners ready." Daryl follows you into the kitchen.

     "Already?" He asks, grabbing his plate that you already made.

     "You're late, Dixon." Daryl grimaces a little, a quiet groan leaving his lips.

     "Sorry, shit went down at the party." You smile and wave your hand in a dismissing manner.

"I'm just teasing you." You and Daryl sit down at your small, round kitchen table. You both eat quietly, Daryl scarfing down his meal like a man starved. Luckily, most are out on the town celebrating Halloween, so the building is quieter than usual. Celebrating. That truly is surreal.

"What're you thinking 'bout?" Daryl asks, having seen the thoughtful look on your face.

"I just never thought I'd ever see Halloween again I guess." You shrug and smile lightly. "I used to love it when I was a kid. Was my favorite."

"Never celebrated it," Daryl mumbles, almost embarrassed. Your eyebrows fly up in surprise.

"No? Not even trick or treating?"

"Nah, no one gave candy. Lotta assholes in my neighborhood," Daryl answers, piling the last bit of rice and meat on his fork. You don't answer and Daryl looks up, shrugging when he sees your saddened expression. "S'fine. Can eat all of Jude and RJ's candy now."

"You've at least carved pumpkins, right?" Daryl looks down, not wanting to sadden you even further with his answer you assume.

You knew Daryl didn't have the best childhood, that his dad was a dick. But you looked back so fondly at Halloween, and it upsets you that Daryl didn't. It made your chest hurt that he didn't have happy memories of dressing up, or getting candy and rushing home to see the goods.

     You look down to your lap for a moment, before getting an idea. You shoot up out of your chair, ignoring Daryl's inquiring gaze. You rush out of your front door and stoop to the ground, grabbing the candy bucket up from the pumpkins and dropping it to the ground. You hoist up the two—rather large— pumpkins before lugging them to the kitchen table, making sure the kick the door shut first.

     Daryl is now awkwardly standing at your table, already having placed your dishes in the sink. He still has that cute, confused look on his face, but when he sees the pumpkins, it dawns on him and his lips quirk up in a smile. You smile back, a huge and bright grin that makes Daryl's face light up even more.

     You're about to grab the knives before another thought hits you, and you jog out of the kitchen to the front door once again. You scoop up the candy bucket, flipping off the light outside your door and bringing that too to the kitchen.

     "Ain't that for the kids?" Daryl asks, jutting his chin towards the candy. He leans against the counter with a teasing twinkle in his eye as he watches you set everything up.

     "Kids are brats anyway, and I paid for it so I can do whatever I want." Daryl laughs at that, just a huff of air escaping his chest. Basically cracking up for Daryl.

     Not five minutes later, both of you are sitting at the table forearm deep in pumpkin guts. The table rattles and shakes with the vigorous scraping of the pumpkin, an attempt to thin the inside of the thick walls.

     Daryl's tongue is sticking out of his mouth in concentration, and you resort by not looking at him because if you do, you're sure you'll pass out from the flip flopping of your stomach. He keeps glancing at you and your pumpkin, his eyes narrow and focused, to confirm he's doing the right thing.

Once both pumpkins are empty and clean, you get a baking sheet ready and begin to separate the pumpkin guts from the seeds. You place them all evenly and sprinkle a good amount of salt on them. All the while, Daryl watches.

     "You like baked pumpkin seeds?"

     "Never had 'em," Daryl responses with a shrug. You pop them in the oven and grab two knives, handing one to Daryl.

     "Now the fun part."

     It doesn't take long for both pumpkins to be carved up, even with the occasional pauses for bites of candy. Daryl is rougher with his knife than you, sticking the knife in and dragging the blade harshly. He does this with great intensity and focus, however, leaning back and moving the pumpkin to look at it from all angles.

     You, on the other hand, are much lighter handed. Precisely moving your knife around the orange vegetable to make it perfect. Your hands trained and careful from years of carving.

     You and Daryl place your carving tools down around the same time. You turn your pumpkin around to show it off, a big grin covering your face. Daryl smiles lightly looking at your jack o lantern, a large toothy grin with big eyes. It looks almost perfect, directly in the middle of the pumpkin with clean cuts. Daryl suddenly looks embarrassed.

     "Mine ain't good," he says lowly, scratching a nonexistent itch at the back of his scalp.

     "I'm sure it's perfect! Turn it around," you assure, persuading him to show you his carved pumpkin. He glances at you for a moment, biting his lip before he concedes and turns his pumpkin around.

     Daryl's jack o lantern isn't as cleanly done. His doesn't look happy like yours, lips placed in a snarl that is a little crooked on one side. The eyes are off center and one is a little bigger than the other. Despite the quirks, it's perfect in your eyes. Almost as adorable as Daryl's bashful expression.

     "It's so cute!" You exclaim, and Daryl shrugs, looking down at his hands tangling together. "I think it's perfect."

     "Whatever you say," Daryl says, a huff of air escapes his lips. He finally looks up from his hands and sees your face, smirking when he does. You frown.

"What?" You ask, self consciously. Daryl shakes his head, smiling even larger at your expression.

"You got a little somethin'," Daryl says, motioning with his finger at his own face. You touch your face briefly, trying to feel what he was motioning to. Before you could get whatever it was off your face, Daryl's fingers replace yours.

     His fingers, calloused by years of hard labor, are surprisingly gentle at getting the mess of your cheek. He wipes off the sticky residue, showing you the stringy pumpkin guts before chucking it at the table. But even after, his fingers slowly and hesitantly return to your cheek, softly caressing the flushed skin.

     It's like he was drawn to you and he can't help it. Two magnets pulled together against either of your wills. You're positive you can't pull away, even if you wanted to. Both stuck in this position, with Daryl slouched in his chair to lean towards you, and you ridged and stick staring at his face.

His face, which you've carefully studied plenty of times, had never seemed so soft. The rugged scar down the center of his eye and cheek at great contrast to his loving expression. He's nibbling at the inside of his cheek, and his eyes cast nervously from your eyes to his hand, which seems to be moving on its own accord.

Before long, you're kissing him. You don't really know who kissed who, just that one second Daryl was staring at you with those pretty blue eyes of his, and the next your lips were on his.

The kitchen table digs into your ribs because of the angle, both you and Daryl leaning forward in your chairs to get to each other. You don't mind, the discomfort barely even registering in your brain. All you can think of is Daryl, and his hand still resting on your cheek and how his lips are chapped, but somehow still soft. How you've been thinking about this for so long, and you can't believe that Daryl is actually kissing you right now.

Unable to take the uncomfortable angle any longer, you stand just slightly without removing your lips from Daryl's. You shuffle closer to him, leaning down and raising your knee to rest on the chair between Daryl's legs. Daryl leans back to accommodate you, and his hand drops from your cheek to grab your waist, pulling your body even closer to his. Your hands meet his shoulders to steady yourself, and you kiss him harder.

     Daryl's fingers tremble, but they slowly slide under your shirt. Your quiet groan is muffled by Daryl's lips, but he heard— or felt— anyway, telling from the smile that curves his lips. You only part for hurried pants of air, before he chases your mouth again. It's a game of push and pull that neither of you want to ever end. It might've never ended, only if you never put those pumpkin seeds in the oven.

     The loud, shrill noise from the oven beeping is a great difference from the quiet passion that was just taking place. You and Daryl startle away from each other. Your hands are still on his shoulders and his fingers still squeeze at your hips, but you're both looking towards the interrupting oven.

     You slowly turn your gaze back to Daryl. He's still looking at the oven, with a anxious look on his flushed face. His hair is messy from your wandering fingers, and his eyebrows are low from what you could only assume is embarrassment. You smile and tap his cheek, and Daryl turns to look at you with uneasy eyes.

     "Ready for those pumpkin seeds?" You ask, smoothing down his hair. His face relaxes at the sweet gesture, like he thought you'd be upset or something for kissing. Daryl can be silly sometimes.

     He nods and returns your smile, and you can't help but place one more hesitant and quick peck to his mouth. He chases you when you pull away, and you giggle. You allow yourself to card your fingers through his wavy hair one last time before you pull away from him completely.

     You pull out your roasted pumpkin seeds and lay the sheet down on the cooling rack. You admire the perfectly done seeds and look back at Daryl to share the feeling. His ears and cheeks are still red, and he has a small bashful grin on his face. Your lips quirk up on their own accord.

     Maybe Daryl didn't have great memories of Halloween to look back on, but you hope you gave him at least one he won't forget.

[shirefantasies]

Congrats on 100 followers!!

What are some of your lotr headcanons?

Thank you so much 🥳 Ooooooh good question 👀 lessee *cracks knuckles* I’m going to do some regular one & some romantic ones, enjoy 😘

Some of my LoTR Headcanons!

*General*

✧ Aragorn may have worn Boromir’s bracers, but he also kept a drawing he found in his pocket. Turns out Faramir had drawn it one day when they were boys and his older brother held onto it until the end of his days.

✧ Legolas is so soft around little ones. He tries to act all like a wise guide but devolves into letting them climb him and carrying them up to rooftops for starlight stories. Doesn’t even care if they grab his hair or his ears, he’s still smiling so gently at them.

✧ Pippin is what would be called in modern days neurodivergent, more specifically with autism and ADHD. His parents and Merry were the most understanding ones, the ones who knew what he needed to hear and how he would process it best when others didn’t always understand.

✧ Legolas and Aragorn had the habit of singing together at fireside, quiet elvish songs, until one evening Gimli decided to put a stop to it with a dwarvish drinking song. In the end, the others find it so funny they learn it and join in, all three of them leaving their troubles for one night of song.

✧ Lord Elrond? Elrond of Rivendell??? Makes the best cup of tea in Middle Earth, fight me.

✧ Faramir teaches Pippin his favorite childhood game, probably something akin to chess, not really expecting the hobbit to enjoy it but Pippin ends up beating him out of sheer luck

✧ Frodo, Aragorn, and Legolas could have totally talked some shit in Elvish to each other and I firmly believe they did

✧ Arwen thinks of Lindir as a friend, but he’s so formal that in his mind such a lady could never see him so casually, leading to comical differences in the way they address each other

✧ Pippin wants a shit ton of kids some day. Sam is happy with around three, Merry wants a boy and a girl, Frodo isn’t sure he even wants children at all, but Pippin? He’s down for five to ten no problem, and he will be best friends with every single one.

✧ Eowyn teaches Faramir a bunch of horse riding tricks and he falls in love with riding as a sport, smiling as he takes in an act he only performed in war during a moment of pure joy and prosperity.

*Romance*

✧ Merry and Pippin are both such passionate kissers. OMG you will be breathless

✧ Elrond is the gentlest lover, handling his partner so carefully as if they were like gorgeous blown-glass in his hands and could break.

✧ Boromir is the type to grab his partner’s booty when they’re kissing in private

✧ Frodo’s ideal partner is not the smartest person or the most well-read, but someone with lighter spirits than his, someone who can never fail to bring a smile to his face and a laugh out of him.

✧ Faramir absolutely adores surprising you with flowers, so get ready to find them everywhere.

✧ Legolas is incredibly shy, inexperienced, and unsure with romance, so he prefers you to lead so that he can respond in kind, learning and studying with each touch, each act. He discovers his favorite thing is tracing a hand up and down your spine as you embrace.

✧ Gimli likes to act so rough and tough for someone who, in modern terms, would be called a massive simp, practically rolling out a red carpet for his partner and worshipping the ground they walk on, kissing them almost reverently unless the mood shifted deeper.

✧ Eomer is so good at giving massages, his partner will feel like royalty whenever he helps them relax

✧ He doesn’t look it, but Sam 100% would be the type to hold you up against a wall as he kisses you

✧ Aragorn enjoys being little spoon quite frequently. Fight me.

[melzula]

The Search

part two

pairing: Zuko x princess!reader

notes: part two is finally here! hope you enjoy, and reminder that not everything from the comics is covered in these pieces so i suggest reading the search to better your experience :) also if you’d like to be removed from the taglist pls let me know!

summary: the group arrives in Hira’a where the Princess’s patience is tested by Azula

~ part of the fire lilies series~

It had been an eventful morning to say the least.

Azula’s frenzied outburst had led to your group having to put out the fires left in her wake, and though it was obvious she was clearly unfit to travel, Zuko insisted that everything was fine. You would continue your journey to Hira’a as planned, and without further discussion you found yourself back on Appa’s saddle flying towards the small town.

This trip was turning out to be much more eventful than you had originally anticipated, but still you tried your best to mask your apprehensions in support of Zuko’s search for his mother. However, you could sense that there was now something different about Zuko, as if a change had occurred overnight while you were sleeping, but if there was such a change he said nothing of it.

“You missed breakfast this morning,” you remind him as you place a mango in his lap and sit beside him on the saddle. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m not sure,” he laments quietly, staring down contemplatively at the fruit. “So far this trip isn’t going the way I pictured it.”

“It hasn’t been perfect,” you agree with a shrug, “but it could be worse. There’s still time to turn it around.”

“I wish I had your optimism.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you counter with a teasing smile, “to balance out your negativity.”

“Two halves of a whole,” he replies with a quiet laugh. Despite the events of this morning and the contents of Azula’s scroll, Zuko’s mood is already beginning to improve. Maybe you’re right, and things will get better before the trip is over, but there’s still work to do, so your group will just have to wait and see.

After finally arriving to Hira’a, Zuko suggests you all work to conceal your identities in order to avoid drawing attention to your group, and so you put on a Fire Nation style dress and remove any trace of your water tribe identity. The act is reminiscent to your time hiding in the Fire Nation after your breakup, but you try not to think too much about that as you attempt to tie a top knot in your hair.

“Allow me,” Zuko offers with a fond smile, taking the ribbon from your hands and carefully pulling back your hair before beginning to style the knot. His movements are gentle in order to avoid pulling your hair, and you’re immediately able to relax at the feeling of his touch.

“Thank you,” you say, ignoring the look of disgust Azula sends your way. It’s obvious she still isn’t very fond of your relationship with her brother, but you try your best to pay her no mind and focus on the task at hand.

“I thought Hira’a was supposed to be a small town,” Aang notes curiously as your group begins to walk into the bustling community, “why is it so crowded?”

“Looks like they’re performing some kind of play!”

“I recognize that scene!” Zuko exclaims with a smile. “It’s the final battle in Love Amongst the Dragons.”

You smile as a wave of nostalgia washes over you at the mention of the play. Though you’d never seen the performance yourself, Zuko often took it upon himself to reenact it for you during his visits to the South when you were children. If she was in a good mood and had nothing better to do, Azula too would sometimes join in on the reenactment as the part of the Dragon Emperor. It was their mother’s favorite play, and it was something Zuko felt he could share with you so that you could know her the way he did. You never got the chance to meet her, but you felt like you knew her from all the times he had talked about her.

When the play is over and the crowd begins to disperse, your group begins asking the remaining locals about any information they may have concerning Ursa. Though you’re mostly given pure rumors and speculation, a man by the name of Noren seems to be your best bet at discovering her whereabouts.

“I’m the director of the Hira’a acting troupe,” he says as he shakes Zuko’s hand. “Ursa was once a member.”

“Really?” Zuko asks with a surprised smile.

“That’s right!” A nearby local exclaims, clearly eavesdropping on the conversation. “She always wanted to play the Dragon Empress, but she never got the chance!”

“We should find a quiet place to talk, away from the crowds,” Noren suggests in response to the eavesdropper. “You’re all welcome to my home. We’ll share some tea and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“It would be an honor. Thank you,” Zuko says gratefully before your group begins to follow the man to his home.

It seems you were right about still being able to turn this trip around for good. Because of Noren, Zuko is one step closer to finding his mother.

Thank the spirits for your optimism.

~~~

Noren’s home is the perfect place to relax after the eventful morning you’ve had, and you’re grateful for his wife Noriko’s tea and hospitality. Your friends sit spread out around the home conversing and enjoying their drinks, and you find yourself being kept company by the couple’s adorable daughter Kiyi and her doll little Kiyi.

“I like little Kiyi’s dress,” you tell her with a sincere smile, “you both match beautifully.”

“Thanks! She likes your dress too! She thinks you’re pretty.”

“Why thank you, little Kiyi,” you giggle. “You’re a wonderful hostess.”

“Hey, do you think your boyfriend would wanna meet my doll?”

“I’m sure he’d love to,” you smile, and when Kiyi holds out her little hand for you to take you graciously accept her invitation to get up and follow her to where Zuko and Azula are seated on the floor.

“Wanna meet my doll?” She asks as you sit yourself beside him.

“Of course,” he replies as Azula answers with a “No” at the same moment.

“This is Kiyi!”

“I thought your name was Kiyi,” Zuko notes with a chuckle as the little girl proudly displays her doll for him to see.

“It’s such a good name I used it twice!”

“It certainly is a lovely name,” you agree fondly much to Kiyi’s joy.

“Yes, but I must admit that little Kiyi has a very interesting… haircut,” the Fire Lord notes with an amused smile, carefully running his finger along doll’s the frayed strands of hair.

“I wanted to make her prettier, but it didn’t turn out very good,” the girl says with a frown.

“I still think she’s pretty,” you console with a genuine smile, “you just need to style her hair is all.”

“Really? Could you do that?” Kiyi asks in astonishment.

“My sister used to do stuff like that,” Zuko says in passing, prompting a sly smirk to form on Azula’s face at the mention.

“That’s right. Only I didn’t give them haircuts, I gave them headcuts!” She remarks snidely. “Would you like me to show you?”

“No!” Kiyi cries, immediately clutching her doll close to her chest and hiding behind you for protection.

“Azula, stop it!” Zuko scolds.

“Haven’t you terrorized enough dolls?” You accuse, recalling how she had beheaded your favorite doll when you were children. It had crushed you, and you weren’t about to let her do the same to poor Kiyi.

“That was ages ago, y/n. Don’t be so dramatic,” Azula dismisses you with a wave of her hand.

“You really haven’t changed,” you huff much to Zuko’s dismay. He feels guilty for having to put you through all of this, and though he had hoped this trip would be a chance for Azula to redeem herself it seemed now that that was unlikely.

“Kiyi,” Noren says as he enters the room with Sokka following close behind him, “are you being hospitable to our guests?”

"I’m trying!” She insists exasperatedly prompting you to frown.

“She’s the perfect hostess, Noren,” you assure him with a smile, your compliment alleviating some of Kiyi’s stress.

“Will you play dolls with me? I have an extra one you can borrow,” she asks.

“Of course, I’d be honored,” you smile, laughing quietly at the way she immediately bolts out of the room in search of her spare doll.

“You’re so… good with her,” Zuko notes quietly. “It almost seems to come naturally for you.”

“Well, teaching a new generation of children to water bend is certainly good practice,” you explain fondly.

The mention of your students has you feeling homesick, and you can’t help but wonder how your tribe was doing without you. You left them in the care of Hakoda and Pakku, so you knew they were in good hands, but a part of you still worried. The last time you’d been away from home things hadn’t gone so well, but you hoped this time would be different.

“I guess that’s true,” he notes with a chuckle, but his heart is full of admiration for you. Your gentle nature and kind heart are what he loves most about you, and seeing you interact with Kiyi only strengthens the adoration he has for you. He briefly begins to imagine what you’d be like as a mother, but he’s quick to remind himself to stay focused on the task at hand.

Your group learns from Noren and Noriko that Ursa was once a famous member of the Hira’a acting troupe, but her career was cut short when she was taken away to the Capital City and married into the royal family. No one truly knows what happened to her or her boyfriend Ikem, but some believe the two ran off to the Forgetful Valley. The story is pure speculation, but it’s enough to give Zuko a sense of what his next step in finding his mother should be.

You all are sure to thank the couple for their help and hospitality, and as you turn to leave a tug at your dress has you halting in your tracks.

“Will you and Zuko come again?” Kiyi pleads. “Please, please, please!”

“I really hope so, Kiyi,” he says with a smile.

“I promise I will do my absolute best to come and visit you again,” you assure her, and with that you and your friends depart from the family’s home and head for Appa.

“Ugh, more than once tonight I was tempted to burn that whole place down!” Azula scoffs in disgust. “But I resisted for you, Zuzu. I hope you appreciate it.”

“Azula!” You exclaim in shock at her words. “What an awful thing to say!”

“How could you even think that about such a lovely family?!” Katara cries angrily.

“Oh please, their charade disgusted me. Nobody’s that happy!”

“Aang and I are that happy!” Katara rebuffs only for Azula to scoff.

“Because you two are idiots,” she states plainly as if it’s the most obvious observation.

“Does that make Zuko and I idiots as well?” You counter, arms crossing over your chest indignantly.

“No, you and Zuko are a mistake,” she corrects you with a snide smirk. “Unnatural and unfit for each other.“

Though you’d learned early on to have a thick skin when it came to Azula, there was something about her words that got to you in a way she hadn’t been able to do since you were children. Your eyes zero in on her cruel smile and your hands begin to clench at your sides as you stare the girl down.

“What did you say?” You utter through gritted teeth, your sudden change in demeanor surprising even Katra.

“You must not be as smart as I thought if you honestly think you’re meant to be together,” she taunts with a sneer. “A Water Tribe Chief and the Fire Lord? What a joke.”

“Azula, that’s enough,” Katara attempts to intervene to no avail as you feed right into Azula’s mind games.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Zuko loves me.”

Your body feels as if it’s on fire as a result of her words, your chest tightening and fingertips beginning to curl instinctually for a fight. You know she’s just trying to get a reaction out of you, and yet you can’t help the anger and despair they bring you. Could it be the reason you were reacting so strongly to her words was because you knew there was some ounce of truth to them?

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Azula shrugs with a passive smile that only infuriates you further.

Sensing the rising tension amongst his friends and Azula, Sokka is quick to approach Aang and Zuko who are having a conversation a ways ahead of the group. “How much longer do you plan to keep this crew together, Zuko? I give it another two minutes tops before something’s either on fire or encased in ice!”

“One more place to visit and then we’re done,” he assures his friend. “We’re going to Forgetful Valley.”

Katara is sure to separate you from Azula as you climb onto Appa’s saddle and attempt to cool off from your spat. Across the way the fire bender sits with a smug smile on her face, clearly aware that she’d gotten under your skin like she’d been trying to do since seeing you again.

“You know she’s just trying to get a reaction out of you, don’t listen to her,” Katara consoles. “Zuko adores you, and nothing’s going to change that.”

“Do you really think the Fire Lord and the Chief can be together?” You ask, a sense of defeat in your tone. “Is it really possible?”

Your lack of usual optimism and confidence catches Katara off guard. She hadn’t heard you sound this despondent since you joined their team after your breakup with Zuko in Ba Sing Se. It worried her, and she wasn’t exactly sure what to say to make it better. Azula really had gotten under your skin.

“You and Zuko are meant to be together,”she says with a reassuring smile, “you wouldn’t have made it this far through everything that’s been thrown your way if you weren’t.”

Sensing her sincerity and acknowledging the truth to her words, your nerves begin to dissipate and you finally find yourself able to relax. Katara was right, you and Zuko had managed to overcome every hurdle in your relationship, and nothing was going to change that.

“Princess,” Zuko calls gently, and Katara takes this as her cue to leave. Taking her place beside you, he removes his cloak and drapes it carefully over your shoulders to ensure you stay warm during the flight to Forgetful Valley. “I’m sorry about my sister, I should have stopped her from speaking to you that way.”

“It’s alright,” you reply with a meek smile. It really isn’t, but Zuko has a lot on his plate and the last thing you want is to pile onto it. You can swallow your hurt and your anger for his sake.

“We should be arriving to Forgetful Valley by morning,” he informs you, “I think you should try and get some rest.”

“I don’t think I can sleep,” you admit dejectedly, contemplatively staring down at your scars. “Too much excitement at once, I suppose.”

“Then I’ll keep you company,” he insists with a gentle smile. “And when you do fall asleep I’ll be here to chase the nightmares away should they come.”

“Thank you, my love,” you utter gratefully, immediately melting into his touch when he cups your face in his hands and pulls you in for a tender kiss.

And unbeknownst to either of you, Azula looks on from across Appa’s saddle with a scowl on her face and a vengeful glint in her eyes.

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