#which is why we hired u. please help us'

[hirookouji]

Aomine and kise are the type of people to end up accidently married in vegas.

oh most definitely!! thinking abt aomine and kise drunkenly getting married in vegas and then posting it to their stories, giving their pr teams simultaneous heart attacks

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-two

(gif created by me, the fallen nightmare. feel free to use, simply give credit)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Authors Note: Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13

"How is she?"

I clutched my phone between my shoulder and ear as I carried the box of merch to the table that was set up inside the venue.

"This morning was rough, but we managed."

"Yeah it was like that the other night," I sighed.

Three days ago, after I came home to the lingering smell of gas in the house, I decided that no matter how much it cost I would hire a live-in nurse to stay with my mom while I was on the road. It would only be for one month then once the tour was over, I would quit and find a job that let me be home with her. That night, I woke up in the middle of the night from screaming coming from the front yard and that's where I found my mom only wearing her underwear standing in the middle of the yard. It was cold and her blue lips were trembling, guilt ate away at me because I didn't know how long she was out there. I think she must have been in a catatonic state and woke herself out of it with her screams.

Then the night before I left for tour, I woke up to my mom looming over me in my bed with a bat clutched tightly in her hands. She didn't recognize me and threatened to beat me with the bat if I didn't get out of her house. It took a soft voice and calmness but I coaxed her back into bed, the fear of my life eating away at my insides.

Of course, when I hired the nurse, I was one hundred percent upfront with her about all the bad. The nurse, Lana, never cringed or ran out like I thought she would. She was a few years younger than my mom and worked with Alzheimer's patients for longer than I'd been alive. She was used to patients like this; it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. Which is why in one week, I needed to send her first paycheck.

$850.

Every week, for five weeks.

It may have not seemed like a lot but for someone who struggles to pay their bills already, it was a lot. My pay for being a merch girl barely covered it and I didn't get paid until the tour ended. To say I was stressing about how to pay Lana was an understatement.

"She's resting in her room right now." Lana's voice brought me back to our conversation.

I chewed roughly on my bottom lip. "Is the door locked?"

"Don't worry, dear. I'll take good care of your mother while you're gone. Enjoy the time away."

"Please call me for anything, no matter the time," I stressed while letting the box fall to the floor at my feet.

The sound echoed through the room and I waved off the stares from Davis and Matt, who looked at me with raised brows. Lana and I talked for a few more moments before I reluctantly hung up, knowing I had to get to work. Noah was already upset with me being late getting to the venue, the last thing I needed was to get caught slacking off. It took me a long while to gain the courage to leave my mom, much to the pushing from Lana, and I ended up missing the call time for the bus to leave. I texted Davis an emergency came up and I would take a cab to the first city. It was only two hours away but the hole that burned in my wallet because of how much it cost continued to gnaw away at me.

So instead of dwelling on it, I focused my attention on getting my area set up. The table with our credit card machine, a jar for tips, and then the fence-like wall where I'd hang up every merch that we had while the boxes lined the floor at my feet. I set my area up on the other end of the ballroom where the guys would perform in which meant I could watch their set. It was like that sometimes but other times, I would be placed outside the room and wouldn't get to watch; not that I ever cared too in the past. It was our first show of the tour and I wanted everything to look perfect, not giving a reason for anyone to get upset with me being late.

No one cared, I knew that, but the nagging voice in my brain wouldn't shut up.

"Need any help?"

Turning on my heels, I gave a small smile to Bryan and shook my head. "I'm all finished, thank you though."

He returned my smile with one of his own, his camera slung around his neck. "Mind if I snap a few pics?"

"Not at all," I shook my head. "Just don't get any of me, I haven't showered yet."

Since I was late, I had the cab driver drop me off at the venue, not having time to check into the hotel we would stay at tonight to shower. Our next show was in two days about ten hours away so we weren't in a rush to get there.

Bryan chuckled while snapping a few pictures of the merch area.

"Well, I'm sure you can sneak away for a bit."

I groaned, the thought of a shower making me smile. "Tell Matt if he needs me to text me?"

With a quick wave goodbye, I gathered my things and quietly slipped away from the hustle and bustle of everyone setting up for the show.

With the two trays full of coffee in my hands, I entered the venue through the back way and made my way towards the ballroom where I knew everyone would be. I was only gone for less than two hours, using that time to get a quick nap and freshen up for tonight. Davis texted me a long order of coffee, almost everyone wanting some sort of caffeine. Thankfully, he also sent me the money to cover paying for it.

I made some small talk as I handed Matt, Bryan, and Davis their coffee. Ruffilo and Folio came by to grab their orders while Jolly, who opted out of coffee with a shake of his head.

"Who's the last coffee for?" I asked.

"Noah," Jolly answered. "He's up on stage if you want to bring it to him."

I'd rather pour this hot coffee over my head than go talk to him.

I haven't seen him since I got the call from the fire department. He over heard the conversation, knowing something happened with my mom, but I didn't know if he would bring it up. Hopefully, he'll take his coffee and go back to whatever he was doing.

"Sure," I forced a smile on my face.

With his coffee in hand, I walked up onto the stage where I saw Noah standing looking over to the empty floor. Hearing me walk up, he peered over his shoulder at me. I did my best to not to gawk at his bare tattooed arms; the muscles tensing under his white tank top.

"Your coffee," I raised it towards him.

As he took it, our fingers brushed and the spark that shot through me made my toes curl. If Noah felt it too, he gave nothing away. With my back turned to him, I was about to walk away when his voice halted me.

"How's your mom?"

That's a loaded question.

"Uh, she's fine," I did my best to have a straight face, not wanting to give anything away. "She locked herself out of the house the other day and tried getting in through a window. A neighbor thought she was breaking in."

I was shocked in myself at how easily I came up with that lie.

"Good," Noah nodded.

Silence fell between us for a few beats and deciding that the conversation was over, I walked back over to the merch stand doing my best to ignore the burning gaze at my back as footsteps followed close. Noah was following me not stopping when we reached the merch stand.

"What are you doing?" I asked when I saw him riffling through one of the open boxes on the floor.

His eyes roamed over me, taking in every inch of me with his static gaze then pulled out a shirt and handed it to me. When I didn't take it, confused on his actions, he let out an annoyed breath.

"Either you change into this shirt or I'll do it for you, angel and I don't think you want others to see you," Noah said nodding to the group of guys a few feet away from us.

My cheeks burned hot as the blush spread everywhere over my skin because of that damn pet name. But I still didn't take the shirt from him, unsure why he wanted me to change.

"You never cared before if I wore one of your shirts during a show," I pointed out.

He shrugged. "Be a good girl and go change."

The way something rushed straight to my core shocked me. I never thought being called a good girl would turn me on the way it just had.

Licking my lips, something Noah watched intently, I carefully took the shirt from him and stalked over to the bathrooms to change.

Holy shit.

The ballroom was fucking packed, and I was running around like a madwoman at the merch stand for the last two hours. The openers finished their set, Bad Omens coming on soon, which meant everyone wanted to grab the last bit of merch before. I was so busy I barley had time to stop for two seconds to take a drink of water, something Jolly dropped off undetected by the fans before he went to the green room in the back.

"Here ya go. Enjoy the show tonight!" I gave a smile as I handed two shirts and a sweater to the couple in front of me.

With the few seconds I had between customers, I took a large gulp of water then made work of grabbing a ski mask and a shirt. It went on like this for another twenty minutes until darkness cascaded over the room, the opening sequences of Bad Omens set echoing around us. Finally, having more than two minutes for a break, I sat down on the table and took a deep breath. I pulled out my phone to send a quick text to Lana.

She didn't call which meant good news but that didn't stop me from checking in.

Your mom is fine, dear. I'll have her call you in the morning. I think hearing your voice might help her remember you.

After I responded, I shoved my phone back into my pocket and busied myself by cleaning up around my station as Bad Omens played their set. I didn't bother packing up because I knew once the show ended, more people would line up for merch. Before and after the show is the busiest time for merch. Every once in a while, I would watch Noah stomp, dance, and come alive on the stage as he sang or screamed his lyrics. By now he had lost the ski mask and jacket, donning his black cargo pants and black tank top. As much as seeing him in that mask made my pussy clench, seeing him in this outfit practically made me whine with want.

I'd been attracted to guys in the past, hooking up with a few but had nothing serious. Noah, however, was different. I'd never been this infatuated with someone even though he could be a dick to me sometimes.

No, don't think about his dick.

I shook those thoughts out of my head, not wanting to go down that dark tunnel of thoughts, and texted Davis wondering if he could cover me for a few minutes so I could go to the bathroom. Instead of responding, he showed up two minutes later with a smile.

"I'll even give you five minutes for a break," he said.

"My hero," I called out over the sudden screams while rolling my eyes.

Once in the somewhat quietness of the hallway, I stood there for a few seconds taking a deep breath. My ears rang from the screams and loud music so this bit of solace was nice; until I saw the line for the bathroom. Even with Bad Omens playing, it didn't stop people from rushing to the bathroom.

I knew there was one in the green room so turning around; I followed down the long hallway before slipping behind a door at the end. It was way quieter back here, a soft thump of the bass banging against the wall as I walked into the green room, feet halting when I noticed Noah in there alone, throwing back a water bottle in one large gulp. It was at the point of the show where they had a few minutes intermission.

"Who's at the table?" He asked breathless.

Ignoring how his skin glistened under the light, I pursed my lips. "Davis. I just need to use the bathroom but the line for the one in the hallway is insane."

Noah nodded before tossing the bottle in the garbage and I walked passed him towards the bathroom but his fingers grazed over the inside of my wrist, stopping me. I stared down where our skin touched then back up to his face. He said nothing, simply brushed a strand of hair away that fell into my eyes, his fingers lingering on the skin behind my ear. Having him this close to me was enveloping my senses; I could think straight and his scent was deep in my bones. My breath hitched at how close we were and if I didn't know any better, I thought he was going to lean in to kiss me until a persistent knock pounded on the door.

"Noah! Let's go, we're going to miss our mark!" Jolly's voice rang out as he opened the door.

The speed that Noah pushed away from me made my stomach drop. He clearly didn't want to get caught touching me.

Jolly looked between Noah and I. "Am I interrupting-."

"No," Noah shook his head, not letting Jolly finish. "I was grabbing something to drink. Ready?"

As fast as Noah moved away from me, I was alone in the room just staring at the ground below my feet.

"What the fuck was that?" I grumbled, forgetting the whole reason I came in here.

[burninlovebutler]

26 - NYE pt. 2 - Say It Again** // Forever Winter Series

pairing: austin x fem!oc | word count: 6.8k-ish

warnings: smut, alcohol, mentions of substance abuse, mutual masturbation, use of toys, crying, fluffy?? sad fluffy?? (u know the deal), slight sub/dom undertones if u squint, aftercare, please don't hate me, 18+, MDNI

summary: After Austin’s encounter with Elsie in a side room and his new year’s kiss with his date, he spots Elsie making a speedy escape. Plagued with guilt of his actions, he runs to catch her but finds her in a… compromising position.

previous chapter -> 25 - NYE - Til You Come Back For More

see masterlist - for chapter log & all other fics

We go 'round again, we jump back in bed That's what you do when you love somebody

These bad omens, I look right through them That's what you do when you love somebody

I died when you left that night for the thousandth time 'Cause you love somebody else

-AUSTIN-

Aspen pulled away from our new year’s kiss with the biggest drunken grin. The taste of her vanilla lip gloss and straight tequila coated my lips. I kissed her again for good measure, pulling her waist against mine. “You look stunnin’ tonight babe.” Cupping her cheeks, “Just like a little sparkly firework.”

She blushed a bit and nudged my arm, “Oh shut up.”

I contemplated sweeping Aspen off into a bathroom to get the feeling of Elsie off me, but I couldn’t do another fuck in a bathroom.

The roar of the new year faded back into standard party noise and Aspen hauled me to the kitchen for fresh drinks. She was talking to me, but my focus was on the door down the hall that I left a desperate Elsie behind. She still hadn’t come out yet, which I figured she would’ve rushed out to get her New Year’s kiss from Nox.

It was only when Aspen handed me a new drink that I saw Elsie creep out from behind the wooden door. Slow at first then quickly zipping through the bustling crowd. Condensation from the red cup collected around my fingertips as I squeezed it between my fingers. My predisposed path I expected her to take was wrong, instead of going to find Nox, she escaped to the loft elevator.

Odd.

Guilt began to spread through my veins as quickly as the alcohol. I hadn’t exactly been nice in that room with her. Maybe it was too much. Maybe I took it too far. I never meant to make her upset – at least not enough to leave a party.

I then diverted my attention to tracking Nox, between the many other Elon Musk wannabe’s it wasn’t the easiest mission. I finally spotted him in a corner with some girl, a blonde girl.

A girl that looked pretty similar to the blonde I saw at the bistro weeks ago. The girl that ‘wasn’t there’.

Okay so – either she’s upset because of me or because of Nox – or I’m fucking seeing shit again.

Either way I needed to find her.

“Hey darlin’.” Curling my arm around Aspen, “I think I’m gonna head home.”

“Aw,” The edges of her plump lips downturned for a just a moment, “Well that’s okay, I kinda wanted to go to the club and cash in on lonely partiers.”

A smile tugged across my face, that was exactly why this was working. No strings, just fun.

“Why don’t you wanna stay and party?” She dropped a maraschino cherry in her mouth then plucking the stem out.

“I just don’t think I’m feelin’ all that well.”

She twirled the cherry stem between her thin fingers. “Aw,” She pushed out her bottom lip, “I can help, you want a bump?”

It took a good pause for me to contemplate the answer to that but ultimately decided against it, coke wasn’t something I wanted to make a habit of. I had too many fixes to juggle already.

“Nah I’m okay, but thanks for offerin’.” Picking her chin up, her brown eyes sparkling up at me. I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t gorgeous. She looked like if you put old Hollywood Marilyn Monroe into a present-day high-end escort. The type of escort that only the 1% hire, the Jeff Bezoz type of escort. Her features soft like a girl next door but her body like – a Playboy bunny. That’s exactly what she looked like, a Playboy bunny. The sex appeal, charm and the cheerfulness of a Playboy bunny.

I pressed a kiss on her full lips but before I could pull away, she hooked her finger into my shirt pocket. Her eyes met mine again, plopping the cherry stem in her mouth and within seconds plucking a newly formed knot from her extended tongue. Her fingers rotated it in my eyeline before dropping it in the pocket, her bedroom eyes locked on me the entire time. “Consider that a rain check for the other ways I could make you feel better.” She swiped the excess cherry juice from her thumb across her tongue then cleaned it off with a pop.

Navigating through shitfaced New Yorkers on New Years was hard enough on its own but the urgency of finding Elsie and the concoction of chemicals in my system made it quite a trying journey.

Finally reaching her door, I gave my signature knock.

No answer.

Knock again.

No answer.

With a slight turn of the knob, the door pushed open. “Els?” I called quietly. Tiptoeing around the empty apartment before hearing small noises from behind her cracked bedroom door. When I stepped closer, they sounded like whimpers.

Fuck. The last fucking thing I wanted to do was make her cry.

I knocked gently against the door frame, “Els?”

No answer, so I decided to just open the door. We had keys to each other’s places it wasn’t like we never just showed up.

A loud shriek came from her lips, her bare legs clamping around her hand.

“I-“ Eyes widening at the absolute opposite of what I thought was going on. Her dress bunched up at her hips, her hand between her thighs.

“What are you doing here!” Using her free hand to chuck a pillow at me that I promptly dodged. I’d never seen her cheeks so red.

“I thought you were sad!” I defended, putting both hands up as if I were under arrest.

“Why the fuck would I be sad!”

“Well I-“

“Get out!” Chucking another pillow at me.

Then it occurred to me, and maybe it was selfish, but the sight of her like that burned something vicious down my body. “Wait,” A slight curl at the corner of my lips, “Is this because of me?”

“What?”

“Is what you’re doing because of me?” I questioned, backing against the door clicking it closed.

“What are you doing, can you please just fucking leave.” Her voice was so flustered, it was almost endearing.

“Hm.” I stepped over to her, only causing her to clamp her legs more and slink further away from me. “Well, don’t stop on my account.”

I sat on the edge just below where her legs were bent. I loved having her be putty in my hands, I loved making her squirm and writhe and beg. Green eyes just blinked at me, even I could see the confusion behind them, the conflict. The visual struggle made me second guess my own actions. “I’m sorry I walked in on you. I’ll leave if you want me to.” Dropping the teasing tone.

“It’s okay um- just what are you doing here.” Well, she didn’t throw me out, maybe I was onto something after all.

“I saw you leave the party, I thought you were sad. But now I see you were just hor-“

“Sh!” Her free hand pressed a finger to my lips. She eyed me like if I was about to pull some rabbit out of a hat, like I was hiding something she was searching for.  In the slowest motion she unfolded her legs, keeping her hand over her core.

God she was gonna send me into a frenzy.

“Need some help?” I couldn’t help but offer.

Her middle and ring fingers drew up her slit landing at her clit but didn’t move. I could already feel my blood rushing to my hips. All I wanted to do was finish what I started at the party.

Adjusting to be between her legs, I pressed my coordinating fingers into hers then guiding them in slow circles.

“Wha-“ She began to protest.

“I can’t touch you remember?” I reminded. She dropped her head as my hand took control of the motions on herself.

“Fuck.”

“Now I’m gonna ask again.” Speeding up just enough to be noticeable, “Were you touching yourself because of me?” Her eyes widened, that was he rabbit she was waiting for - the ‘mean’ me she was yelling about at the party, the me that made her weak.

Her lack of a response caused a pause in my motions. Leaning forward placing a kiss at her bent knee, “Now what did we talk about words?”

Her already desperate eyes scrunched closed in defeat. It was those tiny moments of defeat that fueled me to push her further and further.

“Yes – Yes it was because of fucking you.” The angst in her voice indicated that she didn’t want to give in, but she was. She was pissed that I was right, that I saw right through her.

“Hm. You’re getting better.” My fingertips moving again, now in circle-8’s.

A low moan poured from her mouth. As rock hard I was or as much I wanted to be buried inside her or how I wanted to hear her choke on me, any of it didn’t distract from this. For me, sometimes this was even better than any of those. Being an orchestrator of a beautiful woman’s demise? A puppet master for a blinding spiral? Well that’s better than any orgasm I could ever have.

“Tell me darlin’, you got any toys in that drawer?” Her eyes shooting open again, more pink flooding into her cheeks.

“I- uh- no, I don’t.” Her words barely coming out past her stutters.

“Well, then you don’t mind if I double check?” My tone innocent, teasing. I went to open her wooden bedside table drawer when she caught my arm.

“No, no I don’t think you need to double check.” Panic clear in her voice.

“Mhm.” A swift tug at the drawer before she could protest further. Her hands immediately covering her face from pure embarrassment.

I was in utter shock when the opened drawer revealed a rather large collection of toys. Though, I suppose when you’re with a partner who doesn’t satisfy you, you need to find ways to find relief. Each toy she owned was smaller than me, but I chose the closest one to my size and girth.

When I returned to her, she had clamped her legs together again and was still covering her face. “Well, that wasn’t very nice to lie to me.”

“Shut up.” She fussed.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” My index tracing up the side of her thigh, “C’mon open up for me will ya?”

“No, you’re being mean.” She grumbled still hidden behind her humiliation.

“I think you like it when I’m mean,” The throbbing in my jeans was beginning to become painful, threatening to take complete control. “Let me make you feel good baby.” My hand curving round her full thigh, indicating to let me spread them. She paused then obliged, slowly opening her legs for me.

You know how when you’re really craving a favorite meal and then you finally get it and all you want to do is devour it in the most depraved way? That’s exactly how I felt the minute I saw her glistening heat.

“Alright darlin’ here’s what I’m gonna need you to do for me,” Gently bringing her fingers back to her swollen bundle, “I need you to keep doin’ what you were doin’ before, I’ll take care of the rest alright?” The utterly taken aback look on her face swirled both fear and excitement. Her dainty fingers began moving in circles once more.

Her eyes tracking me as I let a drip of spit land on the silicone member and massaging it in to lubricate before I brought it to her. Before I could even line up to her entrance she opposed, “I want yours”

Those were not words I thought would come from her mouth, in that moment but it only made me strain in my pants more, it took the last bit of self-restraint to reply, “You know I can’t do that.”

“Why not.”

“Because you won’t answer me.” Stating the obvious.

“About what?”

“You know what. The reason you’re in this mess.”

“Aust please,” Looking up with pleading eyes, “I need you.”

“Answer it, why were you so upset at the party?”

“I told you I don’t have an answer.” She repeated, quite brave of her to be defiant in this compromising position.

“Well then I can’t fuck you.” The words physically pained me.

She groaned in frustration, “Fine but…” Contemplating, gears churning while her vision traced from my face down to the bulge in my pants, “Well, if I have to touch myself, then so do you.” She said matter-of-factly.

Now it was me who was taken aback, not expecting that either. “Is that really what you want?” Confirming the fucked-up compromise.

She nodded pathetically, “Please? I need to see your cock.”

I didn’t need much convincing after that, undoing my zipper and tugging both jeans and boxers down letting my member spring free. I eyed her core before slipping two fingers slowly into her, causing a gasp. I moved them back and forth to get just enough of her juices to use as my own lube. She watched my every movement, from her to myself, then watching as my fingers wrapped around the head of my length and began to slowly bob up and down. I couldn’t help letting out a low groan as I was finally getting the relief I so desperately needed all night.

“Is this what you wanted?” Bringing my grip lower on myself and noticing her index and middle fingers beginning to work on herself again, “To watch me fuck myself?”

“Yes,” She nodded watching my hand as if she was in a trance, “Do you… do that to the thought of me?”

Suddenly that question that I kept asking her now spun on me seemed significantly crueller. Letting out another low grunt when I finally reaching the base of my length, “Of course, how could I not think about being deep in your throat again?”

A tiny proud curve tugged at her lips, “You think about being inside me?”

My hand now gaining a rhythm on my pulsing cock, “Fuck – yes.” I glided the head of the toy up and down her glistening slit, before gently sliding it inside her with my free hand. “Just like that.”

She sucked in a sharp breath the moment the toy filled her, but it wasn’t enough, “Please, fuck me.” She pleaded once more.

If I had to tell her ‘no’ one more time, I didn’t know well I’d be able to deliver it. My actions continued, now matching my hand in time with the silicone slipping in and out of her dripping heat. She must’ve caught on since her index and middle fingers also paced with rhythm.

“Does that feel good baby? Being filled up?” My actions sped up marginally. Using that word both turned me on and twisted my stomach in knots. The knots only tightened when I felt myself press a gentle kiss to her inner thigh, breaking the ‘no touching’ rule. Even though we were engaged in some filthy action, the kiss felt so intimate. Probably one of the worst ways I could’ve touched her.

It earned me a pitched whimper, “Yes.” Her hips ever so slightly lifting and rotated on the fake dick.

Watching her soaked cunt getting fucked by something that wasn’t me only made me insatiable, I needed her in my mouth. My hand moved from my member using two fingers to spread her even more. I wanted to devour her but all I was allowed to do was watch. Whines rolled from her lips basically fucking herself with the way she rutted her hips on the toy.

“Please Austin, I need your cock – I need to feel you.” Her voice even weaker than before, “I wanna cum on you please.” As she begged her thrusts became more erratic, causing the grip on my length to follow suit.

Her digits took over my work sliding down between her folds and spread them wide for me, riding both fingers across her lips. She was trying to torture, make me give in. And I wanted to, god I fucking wanted to, so fucking bad.

I returned grasp to my throbbing cock and my eyes never once left her pussy. “I can’t, you know I can’t.” My stare still on her core as if I were hypnotized. I watched the blue toy drawing in and out of her, her walls gripping onto it. All I could do was imagine it was me inside her. It took every ounce of self-control to keep me from doing just that.

A weak moan fell as she circled her swollen clit again, “Are you close?”

I thought about it for a moment, but my pulsing head answered for me, “Yes.”

Tugging at her bottom lip seeming almost embarrassed of what she was about to say, “I want you to cum on me.” Rose blush tinted her cheeks.

“What?” Propping an eyebrow and stifling another moan as my hand wrapped around myself never took a break.

“I want you over me – and I want you to cum on me.” She clarified, “No touching.”

My view moved to her face to verify what she had just said, “You sure?”

“Mhm.” Nodding pathetically, “Please Aus? I wanna be covered in your cum.”

She didn’t need to ask any more for me to be between her legs, it took every ounce of restraint to not just slide right into her exposed and begging core. I stole the opportunity to take in the full sight of her, desperate, wet, pathetic, plump lips raw from biting down any noises she didn’t want escaping. The silky emerald dress beautifully draped off every curve of body, accentuating her full hourglass figure. She looked angelic, only illuminated by a singular bedside lamp and the glows from the city. Breathtaking and fragile like one of those sculptures where you can see every wrinkle of the dress. Had I never noticed her beauty in that way? Or had I just been lying the entire time - had I always looked at her that way?

I knew I couldn’t touch her, but I couldn’t resist from trailing my fingertips up her thighs to her hips, pushing the slinky dress material up a bit. “I don’t think you want me making a mess on this pretty dress baby.”

Every time I fucking said the term of endearment, I wanted to punch myself, but I wanted to keep using it.

She blinked up at me, showing the most hesitation I’d seen from her all night. “I um, I don’t wanna do that.”

Furling my brows up at her, “This has to be like $200 dress you really want me ruining it?”

“$500.” Correcting me but kept her focus on the side of the bed, chewing on her bottom lip. “It’s okay I’ll get it dry cleaned or something.”

Out of every fucking weird thing that led up to that moment tonight, that was the most puzzling one. There was something wrong and as a man of course it took me longer than it should’ve to figure it out.

Smoothing my hand up over hip beneath the dress, “You don’t have to hide from me.” Her cheeks prickled pink, “I’ve seen you without a shirt on before.”

“Yeah, but,” Running her tongue between pressed lips, “Never like this. I never do… this without a shirt on.”

“What do you mean?” It only got more perplexing, “You don’t have sex without a shirt on?”

“We’re not having sex.” She was quick to correct me, however her point was debatable. “But, no… ehm, he doesn’t like seeing me like that… when we’re, ya know.”

Nox continued to shock me because like, what the fuck? Why would you want her to hide? If it were me the dress would’ve been on the floor before we even left the party.

I wasn’t prepared to handle her statement, well I wasn’t really prepared to handle any of it.

“I’m not him.” I reminded her, “And I want to see you.”

She just stared at me when I figured maybe I should reframe my words.

Fingers molding around her hips gently, “I want to see you. I’m not lying about that. But more than that, I want you to be comfortable.” I reassured, “So, if me ruining your expensive dress is what will make you most comfortable then, I’m okay with that.”

She took a minute to process my words before replying with a soft, “Thank you.” Her tone was more appreciative than it should’ve been, like no one had ever taken time to prioritize her comfort.

“I want to…I just,” Eyes faltering once more, “I don’t think I can.”

I nodded, “Okay. That’s okay.”

She looked so relieved, making me sadder than it should’ve. It made me wonder the sort of backlash she was used to when saying no.

“Do you want to continue?” Making sure we were still on the same page, “It’s okay if you don’t.” Her hazy greens met mine though I couldn’t tell what they were thinking. I squeezed her hip again softly, “I won’t be upset, I promise.”

She pulled herself together, “I want to.” Giving me a little smile, as if my basic human decency had given her a green light. “No touching.”

Normally I hated those words, but this felt more like a victory. Not a sexual one, but some sort of a victory, nonetheless.

I gave her a small chuckle, “Okay, you got it. No touching.”

In that moment it felt like something began to weave together. Every other time us as friends and us as… whatever this was, were completely different, completely separate. But in that tiny fleeting exchange, it seemed to be both versions of us meshed.

The way her eyes blinked up at me, a soft sage suggested she might have felt the same sensation. If I didn’t know better, she was telepathically telling me to lean down and kiss her – it had to be her though right? It wasn’t be me. For whatever reason the thought of kissing her was the line – because of course us literally fucking ourselves to each other wasn’t the line. You kiss one-night stands, I kissed Aspen, I even fucked her, and it meant nothing to me. But Els would be different, I just knew it. And as much as I did want to sleep with her, that would be different too.

Her hands trickling down her body snapped me out of my thoughts. Fingers beginning to work on herself again in circles, not taking long for tiny whimpers to escape.

“You okay?” Her voice quiet, insecure, “If you really want me take it off-“

“No, no,” Stopping her free hand that already tugged the dress up slightly, “You look perfect just like this.”

Soft lips curled up, “Thanks Austie.”

It was no ‘baby’ but it was close.

“If you want to…you could take yours off.” I never saw her like this, shy, embarrassed, apprehensive, vulnerable. I loved it.

It caused a small laugh, “Is that what you want?”

“Mhm.” A little nod then tugged at the hem of my shirt.

Using just the collar to swiftly slip my black tee off, I watched her gaze rake down my body now fully bare in front of her. She brought dainty fingertips just hovering over my chest, tracing each accentuated ab. I knew I wasn’t nearly as muscular as Nox so, I wasn’t quite sure if her regard was one of comparison.

Her floating touch never making contact with me until finally reaching the wrist that held my member, fingers gently landing on my wrist bone. Even just the tips of her fingers on my wrist sent shockwaves through me and directly into my cock.

“Continue?” Her sight timidly reaching mine once more.

Using one hand to prop myself over her and the other started working on my length again. She reached down past her right hand and took over the toy to fuck herself under me.

I held myself up, my forehead pressed against hers – the only part of us that touched. Our focus never leaving each other’s eyes, our staggered breathing matched in time, watching the descent in the other’s face.

“Fuck I wish it was you around my cock.” The hand at work on myself speeding up at the thought of any part of her, even just her hand on me pushed me further.

“I know,” Her clouded wide eyes looking up at me so innocently, so pure. “I wish it was you inside me.”

Her fingers accelerated as well as moving the toy in and out of herself. Knowing that my cock was just inches away from being inside her drove me insane. I wanted to bury myself in her and fuck her senseless. She deserved it from how frustrated she made me.

Our working hands were so close to each other, in some twisted way we were fucking each other - her rhythm with the toy matched exactly the speed that my hips rolled into my hand.

The gentleness towards her from just before was slipping out of my grasp. “I don’t think you want that baby.” My head falling into the small of her neck.

“What, why?” She squeaked. “I do.”

“No, because you’ve driven me fucking insane. I’d make you pay. You’re lucky I can’t fuck you the way I want.” The thrusts into my grip sped up as they would if I was fucking her.

Her breath hitched clearly not expecting that answer. From earlier at the party, I figured her voice would fail her again, but she surprised me, “Maybe I’d like that.” The artificial tool catching up to my pace.

“Really?” Breathing into her neck from how her words fueled me, “You’d like it if I fucked you senseless? You’d like it if I used you as my own personal fuck doll?” Those were things I absolutely never imagined saying to her, especially not like this but the bourbon burned in my blood and I had little filter. From how silent she went, I thought for sure that had been too much.

“Yes.” She shyly answered through a stifled moan, “I’d like to be that for you.”

“Oh yeah?” My hand now catching up with her faster speed. God all I wanted was to sink my teeth into her, mark her, leave her covered in remnants of me. “What if I wanted to hurt you?”

Her silence even louder, I hoped she knew what I meant or that I didn’t just ruin everything. “I think I’d like that too.”

“Fuck baby.” I breathed out and failing at keeping a groan from escaping into her neck. My climax was approaching. As much as I wanted to finally come, I didn’t want this moment to end. It was the closest we’d ever gotten. “How about if I wanted to fill you up with my cum, would you like that too?”

“Yes.” No hesitation on that one. “I wish you’d do that right now.”

“Fuck,” I grunted when her reply caused my cock to twitch in my hand, “You’re gonna make me come if you keep talking like that.”

“I want you to cover me remember? I want your cum all over me, all over my dress.” Her fingers stumbling on her clit and the toy erratic. “Aus I’m so close, I’m so close.” Voice strained through her rapid breathing.

I nodded, then bring my forehead to hers again, I wanted to watch her unravel. “C’mon baby, you can come, give in to me. Pretend that’s my tongue on you, pretend it’s my cock inside you.” On the precipice of my own demise.

“Fuck,” She started before full euphoria hit her, “Fuck fuck fuck Austin!” Her back arching away from the bed as she let out the loudest moans I’d ever heard – full of curses and my name.

As she came, I soon followed, fucking my fist as hard as I’d be fucking her. Vivid buzzing filled my hips then spilled from my member, coating her silk dress in milky stripes. Our moans swirling and filling the room. It was watching her completely and totally collapse under me that sent me over the edge. Her eyes stayed locked with mine almost the entire time, only breaking contact when they rolled back in the height of her orgasm.

Eyes fluttered closed while we rode out our highs, heavy staggered breathing in time with each other. Her expression grew progressively bashful, blushing covered her cheeks. A heaviness dropped into my stomach resembling restraint.

Restraint from what?

It wasn’t my body.

Eerily similar to when you can’t wait to spoil the surprise of a birthday gift. A budding secret threatening to escape from your lips at any moment.

I went to pull away to clean the mess we’d made but she caught my arm curling her own around mine. “Please.” A low whisper.

I had no idea exactly what she was begging for but I knew it wasn’t for another finish line.

“I can clean you up-”

“No, I need you please” She didn’t look up at me and I swore I heard her voice crack.

“How? How do you need me?” Replying in a hush close to hers.

Hesitated, “I don’t know.”

“What’s wrong?” Running through any possible mistakes I had made, maybe I should’ve resisted my own urges for her sake.

“I, just- I just need you.” Her tone now clearly a cracking dam of restrained tears.

I would’ve had a hand hold her cheek if one wasn’t supporting me and the other wasn’t covered in cum. So, I did the closest thing and nudged her nose.

“How baby? How do you need me?”

Her gaze diverted and clearing her throat, “I- this way, this. I need you to fuck me.” She lied, it was a shit attempt at the truth.

Well now I was completely puzzled, not following a single damn mixed signal. “I don’t think that’s it Els. What is it?”

And in just the second after I used her name tears seeped out. She quickly brought her free arm up to wipe the tears off with her palm, clearly attempting to halt it from accelerating. My brows furled at the sight below me, those were not the kind of tears I normally caused during sex.

“Please, please,” She pled desperately, “Can we do it again please? I need you to do it again.”

“Whoa, what is going on?” Going to pull away but her grip on my arm kept me locked. “Are you upset about this? Did I do something wrong?” I questioned, the only things that seemed like valid reasons. “Did I say something?”

The cries worsened, face reddening under the palm that frantically worked to clean her now flowing tears.

“Is that it? Did I say something wrong?” I mean, I had said plenty to her tonight between the party and here. “What was it?”

Finally letting go of my arm to cover her face in folded arms, now completely sobbing, sharp inhales, and her chest heaving.

“C’mon baby, can you please tell me what it is? I’m sorry for anything.” I didn’t know her cries could get any worse but now she could barely get a full breath in.

She visibly attempted to tame the tears enough to speak, “That.” She said simply.

“I- what?” Before the pieces fell together in a way I didn’t expect – I didn’t expect it to hurt so much either. “’Baby’?”

She fell apart again nodding beneath her arms.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry. Is it too much? Do you not like it? I can stop.”

She stilled, seemingly processing how to respond, maybe she didn’t even know. “Please just fuck me? Or something?” Her breathing steading just marginally enough to speak, “I don’t even have to cum just – something, anything.”

“Els, I’m not gonna – do anything – when you’re like this. You’re literally sobbing.” I felt like I was in some sort of twilight zone, like I was missing some key element. She just told me I did something wrong and now she’s begging me to fuck her?

‘I don’t even have to come’?

“I’m gonna need you to tell me what’s really wrong because, well, I can’t just sit here and watch you cry?”

She just kept, wailing. Pure, unbridled wails.

“I mean, if this is really about me saying ba-“

“Please Austin please.”

I had never heard someone begging for sex in such a sad way. It made absolutely no sense. “Elsie, I really don’t know what you want right now. I’m sorry for saying or doing whatever I did. But I need you to tell me what this is about, please.” All I wanted to do was make it better, hold her, stop her tears, whatever she needed, I wanted to give.

She took a long pause.

“If you fuck me, you’ll say it again.”

I took an equally as long pause just trying to wrap my head around her delicate words, “Okay, now you’ve really lost me.”

She turned her face completely away from me even though she was still hidden behind her arms. In a feeble voice, “I need you to fuck me, because you’ll say it again.”

Huh?

“Say what again Els?”

Another pause with struggling inhales, “‘Baby’.”

Not what I was expecting but it was more confusing than anything else she could’ve said. “You only call me that when you want me.” Her words sliced through any fluff, any of the bullshit layers we had laid.

Well, duh. What, was I going to call her baby in front of her boyfriend? Or when we’re watching movies?

“Well – I mean – you know.” Stumped on what exactly was the correct response. “I, well, I just, you know.” Fumbling again, like I was trying to play football with a oil-coated ball.

“See?”

“I well, uh,” What was I supposed to say? You have a fucking boyfriend? I shouldn’t be saying it in the first place. “I just didn’t know you liked it.”

“I know.” As to confirm my thoughts of how it wasn’t right, of how it didn’t make sense for me to say it and how she shouldn’t like it.

“Well, I’m not saying it to like- coerce you into anything. It’s not just because I want to, ya know, do what we did.”

“It’s not?” A sniffle as her weeping slowly began to decline. She knew I couldn’t answer it, I shouldn’t answer it. “I just- I don’t know,” Timidly pulling from her arms now looking up at me teary eyed, “I just like hearing it, I guess.”

Before I could even stop myself, “You like hearing it, or you like to hear me say it?”

Her watery greens rounded but just nodded, so feeble it was barely noticeable.

“Okay,” Finally regaining some control over the situation and realizing that I was still completely fucking nude, “How about this, I clean you up and get you into some comfy clothes?”

With a sniffle she gave me a silent ‘okay’.

“Uh, before I do anything, should I be worried about, ehm… him coming home?”

I fully expected her to shoot up in a panic, but she just shook her head, “No, he texted me he’s not coming home. He’s crashing there.”

Mhm, it had nothing to do with the girl he was with, right?

“Okay.” I made my way out of the mess of sheets and to her bathroom, cleaning myself off and slipping back into my boxers. Then brought a towel to the bed and climbed back in. I kneeled in front of her legs that had clamped back together, not moving any other way.

Trailing my hand up her leg, “C’mon baby, open up for me.”

Immediately I saw a slight glimmer in her now mostly dry eyes and then complied to me, timidly spreading open.

Any other time the sight of her still dripping and the toy still deep inside her would’ve stirred me again, but right now my priority was taking care of her.

I gently pulled the silicone from her core, coming out with a pop which caused her to blush all over again.

“Is it okay that I’m doing this?” I confirmed before actually touching her.

“Mhm.” Now hiding behind her hands again.

I brought the towel to her messy center and softly moved it down between her lips, making sure she was thoroughly cleaned up. “Does that feel okay?”

“Mhm.”

Then going to the dress, wiping off the excess of me that hadn’t yet dried onto the fabric. I tugged a bit on the scrunched dress at her hips, “You wanna take this off? I can get you some PJs and leave the room if you want?”

“Hmm,” She thought, “You can stay but, you have to close your eyes.”

“Okay.” I agreed quietly, pulling off the bed and going to her drawers. From the many drunken nights there I knew exactly which drawer held her PJs, second drawer on the left. I picked out an oversized shirt, one that seemed quite familiar, probably one that she stole from me and then paired with some fleece shorts. I set them on the bed and sat next to them on the edge facing the wall and shutting my eyes. “Alright, I’m not looking.”

I heard her shuffle around the bed struggling through the thick duvet, then an audible struggle and a defeated sigh. “I need help.”

I let out a quiet chuckle, “Of course you do.” I kept my eyes shut but motioned her to come towards me. “C’mere, I’ll keep ‘em closed.”

“Hmph.” She exhaled hard and shuffled her way over to me, the dress rippling across the wooden floor, “Okay, here.”

I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. My hands reached out blindly and met her full hips first, then wandered up her curves on a discovery mission. It was the first time my hands felt her this way without it being fueled by desires. A heavy knot fell into the pit of my belly, but it wasn’t sexual. I didn’t know what it was. It mimicked the feeling of picking up a product in a florescent lit mall, something you felt the instant need for, something perfect for you. Then you look at the price tag and the realization that it is completely out of your budget. Not that she was an object to me, god no. She was anything but an object to me. But she was out of my reach, something I couldn’t afford.

I wanted more than I could handle.

This intimate plight over her body outside of the sexual lens gave me a new view of her physique. The sightless wandering heightened my ability to discern parts of her figure I’d somehow missed, like the extra around her midsection. The part no doubt was what Nox ridiculed and made her embarrassed of, the part that she would stop in mirrors to body-check. The parts she frowned at, pulled baggy clothes over, the parts she hid. And yet they were the parts of her that drove me crazy.

My hands fumbled to find the zipper, causing her to let out a giggle. “C’mon now Aus, it’s not that hard.” A smile crept across my face and I chuckled back, finally finding the zipper and running both index fingers up the length of it. I kept a hand anchored to her side as I delicately unzipped the satin dress.

It was those moments, the giggles in between, it felt like us, normal us. Us meshed between those mistakes. Us meshed over intimate names and forbidden actions. Could we be us while touching the way that we do?

“Thanks.” She replied quietly, stepping forward and slipping the dress off. I could hear the rustling of her changing into the pajamas then pulling herself into bed. “You can open now.”

I let my eyelids open after what felt like an eternity. My gaze fell on her wrapped in her white duvet and gave her a tiny grin, “Ya know, I think you look better like that.”

Red peaked in her cheeks, “Shut up.” Then looking over at me with big eyes and I already knew what was coming, “I’m cold.”

I nodded and climbed across the king-sized mattress and met her under the covers, spooning her from behind. Out of pure reflex I wrapped an arm around her and out of sheer stupidity my hand found hers, intertwining between her fingers. A loud silence fell upon the room, like an elephant had suddenly made an appearance.

After a long bit of stillness came a barely audible, “Aus.”

And suddenly it felt like I was a little kid being caught in something against the rules, “Yeah?” I responded, nervous of what would follow.

She let a long pause pass, “What is this?” Her voice held a slight shake, sadness tainted through every word. “What are we doing?”

And just like that, she broke every silence compromise, every rule, shattering the close call clause. It dawned on me that I didn’t know the answer to that question. What were we doing? What did I want? What did I think would come from this? What ghost was I chasing and why?

“I-I,” I let out a sigh, “I don’t know.”

Her body wouldn’t have been more still, even her knuckles froze in time, “Do um- Do you like it?”

At first thought I questioned it, but how could I not? How could I possibly deny that?

“I think so - I think that’s quite obvious.” I answered simply. “You?”

“I think so.” She copied, her hand giving mine a gentle squeeze. I knew it was the champagne in her system talking, she’d never be brave enough to say any of that sober. That begged the question, did she mean it? And possibly, more importantly, would she remember? Would she remember my answers in the morning? Did I want her to?

I rested my forehead against her shoulder and placed a gentle kiss on her fabric covered skin.

“What does that mean?” She inquired another impossible and prohibited question.

I decided to act dense, the last thing I needed to do was misconstrue what she was insinuating, “What do you mean?”

“Like… for us. What does that mean for us?” I could practically hear her wincing from her own questions, bracing for impact.

“I’m…I’m not sure.” I answered honestly. I didn’t. She had Nox and now I had Aspen. “We’re friends… I guess.” The truth never tasted so vile in my mouth, it was like saying the sky was green.

She ever so slightly curled away from me, her face nuzzled into her pillow and from her lips came an even more vile truth. A truth so loud, so violent that rattled every molecule in my carcass. A verity that would obliterate every rule and null every close call clause.

“Friends don’t do the things we do Aus.”

Next Chapter -> 27 - The First Close Call

Forever Winter Spotify Playlist -> ❄️

Thank you for every like, reblog or comment, it means the world to me truly. I love hearing your thoughts and I'm glad you're liking my little story 💗

taglist: @cryingabtab @slowsweetlove @purejasmine @feverdreamcaoilainn @coloradohighs @iluvnerds69 @denised916 @julie181 @navsblog @centaine @golden-kiwis @michellelv (if you'd like to be added pls comment 💗)

[mahamid110]

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[withloveajaxx]

for the ask game!! cinnamon, mauve, blush, fuchsia, lavender, umber, razzmatazz, safron YES <3

IVE MISSED U TOO ☹️💗 & TELL YOU EVERYTHING?? OMG OKOK (it’s mainly me being sad tho bc life is unfair)

I’ve been doing alright, the two times I moved blogs tho,, it had to do w personal problems & some people had the audacity to send in asks that they rlly shouldn’t have bc it made me so damn uncomfortable and it was not helping w my current state so I left :,) THE SECOND TIME I LEFT WAS ALSO BC OF MY PROBLEMS GETTING WORSE AND WORSE and everything was going downhill and I needed a break + people were still making me uncomfortable w their asks (turned them off before I left again) I had accidentally deleted my only moots blog which I had to replace but using the same url (@yonayie pls my layla theme was so cool I miss it) I then deleted my other blog and moved here!! away from the trolls!! and weirdos who can’t comprehend the fact that I’m a minor!!

I spent my Christmas and new years on the verge of tears, it was not fun 😭 my house started flooding on Christmas and it scared the shit out of me!!! & on new years?? i cried bc 2022 was an ass and sm happened it was terrible & we didn’t set off fireworks like we used to so that sucked :,)

school has been a PAIN. I’m a complete loner so that makes everything harder 😭 & my math teacher? literally how did he get hired he cannot teach to save his life he’s so unfair too it’s CRAZY HNGJSJWIJE the only way I get a passing grade is if I self-study and do rlly well on the end of course test in april (which is getting dangerously close im not ready) I dislike my drama teacher 👨‍🏫 I’m okay with my environmental sci teacher + history teacher theyre chill 🤞the workload is manageable so I think I’ll be able to get all of my credits most def!!

oh oh my birthday is on the 27th!! yes this friday pls im not sure if I’ll be able to do anything for it but if not it’s okay <3 (it’d be the 3rd year not celebrating it which is why I’m so chill abt it that’s so sad 😭)

wow omg that’s sm word vomit pls!! why has my life been so depressing I cannot!! i just hope this year doesn’t treat me as badly!! PRAYS 🙏

okay now ur turn TELL ME EVERYTHINGGG <33 (everything that u can ofc 💓)

STOP WAIT,,, I INSPIRE YOU??? HELP WHY DOES THAT MAKE MY DAY WTF YONA PLEASE ILYSM 💗💗

also omg that's a lot that happened in your absence,,, FIRST OF ALL, i will willingly beat up life and people for you i swear,,, those weirdos better watch out for these hands >:((. secondly, i'm sorry that school, christmas, and new year were a pain in the butt :((. i hope everything gets better for you!! and ofc if you need anyone to talk to, i'll do my best to reply mwah 🫶

AND OMG okay what's been happening in my life,,, i'll put this under a cut so ppl don't need to scroll for too long HAHDJXJSJD

OKAY SO FIRST OF ALL... COLLEGE APPLICATIONS. good god those humbled me HAHDJKDKSD LYK I AM ACTUALLY STUPID 💀 the one i recently took was so fucking hard it was not even funny,,, like they put shit i've never learned, heard of, or saw and it was HORRIBLE. i was literally guessing everything math related please pray for my future </33 HAHDJDJKD.

ALSO!! I GOT INTO KPOP MORE AGAIN HEHEHEHE. i recently went to a concert of one of my favorite groups and holy shit. i cried. like so many times. HAHDJCKDF IT WAS CRAZY GETTING TO SEE THEM IRL AND I JUST AAAAAAAAJSKCIISJD 😭😭 i'm also seeing another group next week,,, MY ULTIMATE FAVORITE ONE. and i shit you not i am not mentally or emotionally prepared to see those men up close and on stage HSJFKDKDD

also yea school was a bitch 💀 tons of freeloaders and horrible teachers but yk what,,, i got my report today and i passed so it's okay HAHSJFKKDD. also i'm graduating soon and that's kinda scary n idk how to cope but yes 😭 i'm just hoping for the best and giving it my all HSHDJKKFF

BUT THAT'S BEEN ABOUT IT FOR ME,,, HOPING 2023 IS GOOD TO US <33

also nah i'm making sure your birthday will be somewhat special <33 gonna hold a tumblr party n give u a lil something I SWEAR 💗

[astaroth1357]

The Brothers Dropping Hints to a Remarkably Oblivious MC

I liked this idea and wanted to flesh it out a bit before I bury my head in research for requests. Maybe I'll make a part two later? Who knows.

Intro:

Seven demon brothers, one human. All seven want their attention… So the family agrees to a challenge: Can they get their human to return their affections without actually confessing first? Perhaps… but there's a catch. The MC is denser than a bag of bricks in the love department...

Good luck, boys.

Lucifer

If it weren't for this silly challenge, he'd have considered hiring a sky-writer because he couldn't think of anything more obvious and unavoidable than that…

It honestly astounded him how utterly unaffected the MC seems to be by all of his flirtations. It'd be impressive if it weren't so frustrating.

He could praise their appearance and they'd seemingly forget the compliment.

He could offer them all manner of gifts or meals and they'd think he was just being nice.

He could probably straight up give them a diamond ring and they'd assume it was a late birthday present… 

He was so out of ideas he was considering just ripping off the bandage and asking them directly, brothers be damned, but then that'd be admitting defeat and that’s just not on the table for him.

No, no… He just had to be more patient… Maybe offer them a dance next time? He'll win this challenge yet... maybe…

Mammon

Of course the Great Mammon can get his human to notice his feelings! He's their first man, he knows them more than anybody else! This will be a piece of cake. Right?... right…??

It is not. It is not a piece of cake.

First off, Mammon's already shot himself in the foot because of his tsundere-ness. Turns out when he says, "It's not because I like you!" they actually believe him… 😰

Secondly, he's terrible at expressing his affection in ways that aren't material or possessive...

When he buys them things, they think he's acting sweet and just… pay him back or buy him something in return…

Like, he's not complaining (much) but that's not the point!!

Then when he tries to spend extra time with them they assume it's Mammon being Mammon and not, like, because he's trying to show them how crazy he is about them.

And now he can’t even be honest about his feelings if he wants to because of the damn challenge!! 😫

This seemed like a lost cause for him really… Looks like someone else is going to have to win…

Leviathan

He's been cursing their name to here and back for stealing his heart so thoroughly while still having no idea that they actually had it!!! He'd almost swear they were mocking him but eventually, he genuinely started to think they were just that clueless… 🤦‍♀️

At first he thought that he found a loophole because he could just act out a bunch of obvious anime tropes to not-so-subtly hint at his affections!

...but each time he tried to make a move, he lost his nerve and chickened out at the last minute…

"MC! I just bought some pocky off of Akuzon, do you want to try some?"

"Sure, Levi! 🙂"

"Oh u-uh… Great! H-here you go.. " *hands them the whole box...*

When these efforts failed, he went to plan B, which was again not-so-subtly throwing hints at how special they were to him.

"Hey MC, do you remember that game you were looking at? I got it for us! Come on, let's play together! I'll even let you use my favorite controller!"

"MC, why don't you sit over here? W-wait not that close…! No wait, don’t go!! Urgh!! 😫"

At first he thought it was working until he overheard them talking to Mammon, "Mm? Oh, of course Levi's been so nice to me! We're best friends!"

… Ouch, but not unwarranted. He'd have to try something else or just admit defeat…

Satan

He still truly can't get a good read on them. Are they interested? Just nice? A chronic sufferer of selective blindness?? What does he have to do here???

Satan took a page out of Levi's playbook at first, but replaced anime tropes with what you find in old romance novels.

He was on his best behavior whenever MC was around. Downright gentlemanly, right down to kissing their hand and putting his jacket over puddles for them to walk.

… Unfortunately, Lucifer refused to be outshined by his little brother in the princely courtship department and the two started butting heads (almost literally).

If Satan gave up his jacket for a puddle, then Lucifer would take their hand to "help" them across it. If Satan held a door for them, then Lucifer would hold it too and insist that he go in first. If the MC was cold they suddenly were covered by two coats… It was infuriating!

And you know what's even worse? It was counterproductive.

After a while the MC just thought that it was some kind of game or challenge between him and Lucifer and not him trying to express his actual affections…

Looks like he wasn't going to be winning this either…

Asmodeus 

On one hand, he kind of gets it because he's lovey and feely with everybody but, sweetheart, please take a hint every once in a while…

Asmo comes into the game with both an advantage and disadvantage. He's far more versed in the art of wooing than any of his brothers, but he was so close with them to begin with it's going to take a lot to get the point across…

Confident boi starts inviting them out more, lunch "dates," spa days, shopping sprees, any excuse to be alone with them really hoping they'd get the idea…

...but they didn't. It was just some fun time with Asmo and not any particular special treatment…

His compliments all seemed to bounce off of them too. They never seemed particularly touched and he wouldn't be surprised if they forgot about them within five minutes of hearing them…

Kicking it up to drastic measures, he tries to initiate even more cuddles and hugs than usual… But it feels like he could literally sew himself to their clothes and they'd think he's just being friendly! How do they not see what's going on here, are they just messing with him??

After a week of trying to monopolize the MC's time he had to throw in the towel, certain if he couldn't get through to them then no one could! 😣

Beelzebub 

Well, Beel's a little oblivious himself sometimes so it's not like he couldn't relate… He just wished he could be upfront and ask them because they really didn't seem to notice.

Chances are he was already cuddling with them, sharing his food, taking them places, and doing all the stuff he'd usually do when he likes a person... They probably just considered that to be his normal behavior by that point…

So. He just does what he normally does, but MORE.

Suddenly he's giving the MC half of his meals instead of a third. (Which is what? Enough for a family of four?)

His hugs have gone from just firm to full on bear-snuggles.

He's always offering to take them to a new restaurant or some other place he likes and showing them the best things on the menu (written or hidden).

But it's not exactly going anywhere… 😥

They seemed happy and liked spending time with him but if they were actually noticing feelings for them at all, he couldn't tell…

After a while he kind of gives up on getting them to notice and just starts to enjoy making them happy. Sure, he won't win the challenge, but for now a smiling MC is enough for him 😊

Belphegor 

Look. He may be the King of Mixed Signals, but he's considering just giving up his crown but nothing he's tried has been working...

Similar to Mammon, he’s starting at a disadvantage by regularly being more than a little cryptic about his feelings…

To be honest, it was sort of a reflex for him by this point which didn’t help matters at all. He’s not that used to being completely open with his emotions so he has to fight the urge to downplay things all the time...

Oh, the MC agreed to go with him to the botanical gardens? Cool.

Wait, no, not just cool. It’s great! Really great!! He’s really happy about it, MC, can you see his smile?? He’s smiling! That’s rare! Please notice!!

(They don’t seem to notice…)

Eventually he got even more frustrated than Satan or Mammon and nearly just asked them point blank, but he knew his brothers would flip if he tried…

By the end of the challenge he thought it was a dumb, stupid waste of time and energy and he regrets ever agreeing to it (and he’s not just being pissy because he couldn’t pull it off or anything......)

Bonus: 

After a couple weeks of zero progress for everybody, the brothers seemed to snap. The MC woke up one morning for breakfast only to find their seven demons waiting intently for them to walk into the dining room. What followed was a cartoon squabble of kicked up dust, flying limbs, and thrown objects as each desperately tried to climb over the other in order to get to their human first (even Lucifer nearly flung Satan across the table by the foot at one point). Poor MC was so confused that they had to shout at them just to break up the fighting…

When asked what's gotten into their demons so suddenly, the brothers have only one response:

"WE LOVE YOU!!!" 

…. Eh? 

*MC.exe has crashed*

Back to square one, guys...

[wizkiddx]

hiiiii i love your stuff - could u do one where the readers ill but they have stuff to do and tom has to look after her. maybe if they were just friends before too but both pining? thankuuuuuuuuu

should I be writing this instead of revising? clearly fucking not. Did I make this little blurb req ridiculously long purely to procrastinate? Of fucking course.

but also this was v cute! I assumed u meant famous!reader, sorry if that's not what u were after at all anon x

summary: Tom Holland turns into the readers knight in shining armour when they get ill during promo

warnings: fainting / feeling ill

///////////////////

It couldn’t be today. Of all days, why today? You’d been at home for two weeks doing absolutely nothing, before this trip. And yet it’s when your itinerary is packed to the brim, people moving heaven and earth just speak to you. Two weeks of unrelenting press for Marvels next big ensemble movie. 

Your manager was speaking to you, reeling off a run down of todays activities but instead of listening you nodded along blankly - head rather cloudy with this heavy mist that was not shaking off, no matter how hard you tried. 

“You got that Y/n/n?” Lucy pointedly spoke, eyes almost physically knocking you backwards as if her eyeliner was battery rams. Fumbling with your thoughts, your answer wasn’t particularly cohesive earning you just a disappointed head shake. 

“I um… yeh I think. Who-who did you say I was paired up with?” 

“Y/n please for the love of god. Tom, like I said the past fifty times.” And to be fair to Lucy she wasn’t wrong. It was the first major major promo tour for the both of you and after just two days so far - you were both exhausted. She was more than allowed to be a bit short tempered. 

“But we-we hardly know each other? The chemistry won’t be there and-“

“As I said, I tried to re-jig it but Kevin is of the mind that acting is your job.” Her tone was sharp but as she glared across the opposing seats, in the little mini van Marvel had hired for you as transportation, her eyes softened. Lucy had been so wrapped up in her own stress she may have overlooked quite how gingerly you were sitting. By the time she had arrived at the hotel, your stylist had already managed to half save your ghoulish looking face, with sunken under eyes and tired skin, so it wasn’t so blatantly obvious how crap you were feeling.  “Is everything okay with you?” 

It felt pretty puny to say that the jet lag from flying to Tokyo had been weighing you down further than you wanted, or that the local cuisine top chefs had kindly prepared for you last night wasn’t siting well in your stomach. To be honest, even you thought it was just your body being a bit overdramatic. So in response, you put on your best happy-go-lucky face feigning a smile.

“No no I’m fine, just want to give the best interviews I can and you know…. I’m awkward as hell as it is, then pair me with the most talented actor that I share about two minutes of screen time with…it’ll be interesting.” 

The way Lucy reacted with a weird slow nod, eyebrows furrowed, meant it was quite apparent you had perhaps overplayed that one. Had you not been so over the day before it even began, you would’ve tried again to give a more believable act. But as you were, you turned your attention back out to the bustling streets of Tokyo and the high rise buildings bordering each pavement. 

You didnt have a problem with Tom, far from it in fact. Tom was hilarious and the times you had met him, you’d both built up this weird and sarcastic competitiveness with each other. It was a game of who could get the last laugh, each of you pushing each other with the Mickey taking just a little further. Of course, not in a malicious way, just the way you’d both lived pretty similar but parallel careers - when everyone drew comparisons between the both of you, it was nice to make it a joke. 

Like Tom you’d also started out on stage, had a ‘big break’ movie as a kid and then spent your teenage years on and off film sets - till marvel happened. Then everything blew up to epic proportions, changing your life forever. Actually, it was so similar to Tom’s story, plus the fact you were also from the south west of the UK. It was bizarre your paths hadn’t crossed more - He probably could’ve been a useful ally in the the whole ‘becoming famous’ thing. 

And yet, you could probably count on two hands the amount of conversations you’d had with him. 

Now that, that was the issue. Right from the beginning you learn what the press want and when you are publicising a movie you cater into it too. They’d all be asking for the insider scoop on set; what pranks you’d pulled on each other; what was the most annoying thing about each other. Which is hard if you’d only had 5 or 6 days actually on set together. 

By the time the cab had wormed its way through the Tokyo traffic and you arrived at the PR hotel, it was already 9:30 - making you 15 minutes late (blame it on the traffic). Instantly then you were ushered straight to the interview room for the evening, no chance of green room chat or grabbing a drink before. The place was stuffy, everything was draped with black curtains except the poster board that Tom was already sitting infront of. 

He’d scrubbed up well, no doubt about it. He was wearing statement-ish burgundy suit trousers, teamed with a black knitted but collared shirt thing - that was clearly tailor made for the man. As soon as he noticed you scurry into the room, his face broke out into a warm smile, jumping up to greet you in a friendly hug. It was brief, and as you pulled back you accidentally bumped your head on one of the overhanging lights. No doubt someone had spent a ridiculous amount of time configuring them so they were positioned perfectly, which you had just ruined with your big head. 

“Oh shit!” Tom just laughed in response, shaking his head slightly as he lead you the two steps across to your pre-positioned seats. 

“Making an entrance as always I see!”

“Yeh, you know me, a bit of chaos just to keep everyone on their toes.”

“Oh is that why you’re ‘fashionably late’” With a playful wiggle of his eyebrows, you just rolled your eyes, fidgeting on the chair to find a position that didnt aggravate  your stomach so much.

“I’m ready now though! What did I miss? Just having to pretend to be your friend for 15 minutes?” You stressed the words as though the thought of conversation with Tom was the absolute worst thing in the world - which you definetly didnt think. Scowling like you’d insulted his dog Tessa, it was almost visible how the cogs were turning in his head looking for a comeback. Unfortunately for him though, he was quickly shut up but the organiser bringing the first interviewer in . 

For what would, no doubt, be a long day. 

////

Everything had started off so well, the banter was flowing between you and Tom, no major spoilers revealed that meant Marvel would have to make the journalist disappear. It was once you hit an hour of back-to-back interviews that everything started to crack bit. Because yes, it had only been an hour but that was enough to exhaust you on this particular day. When Tom joked around you got slower and slower, similarly the  energy was zapped from your own answers. It’s not very compelling when someone says ‘you have to watch this movie’ in a monotonous voice with sullen eyes. 

As the interviewers were swapping in and out, Tom actually lightly nudged your shoulder.

“Everything alright? We’re trying to sell tickets and you’ve got a face like thunder.”

“Oh no-no sorry I just, I-um.”

“You want some water?” Now looking at your with more concerned eyes, as if he was just nervous he’d actually offended you for calling you a boring bastard. And you would’ve picked up on it and alleviated his concerns, if it weren’t for the fact your eyes were glued on the water bottle he was holding out to you. You were thirsty. You knew that, that wasn’t the conundrum. What you weren’t so sure about was whether your stomach would accept it, or more violently reject it. In a very non ‘we’re-trying-to-sell-a-movie’ style. 

But the lightheaded fogginess in your brain won out, as you nodded jerkily, taking the bottle and taking a little swig - too cautious to take anymore. 

Now concerned with how Tom thought you were being a Debby-downer too, you managed to perk yourself up for the next four interviews. They were easy, asking questions without any activity and though you did rely on Tom beefing out and adding to your answers, it was okay. Then the next interviewer came in, who you recognised as being from the BBC, Ali Plumb, that had interviewed you a number of times. From the way Tom jumped up to give him afirendly bro-hug, you guessed he also was familiar with him. As soon as he took a seat the cameras were already flashing with the red light, demonstrating his 7 minutes had already started. 

“Guys! It’s been a while.” 

“How are you Ali?” You started it off with the pleasantries, Tom echoing, before the speccy dirty-blonde asked his first question. 

“So the last time I spoke to you guys the universe was in chaos, Peter Parkers on the run and Aurora Blake was trying to strip her own powers, so I guess my first question is how are you both doing? We can use this as a therapy session if you guys need.” His very typical nerdy joke made Tom laugh, nodding as he leaned forward and repositioned a bit. 

You didn’t share the same humour though, more focused on this invisible blanket of stuffiness that seemed to have been thrown on top of you. It made you feel groggy, incredibly hot and so unbelievable nauseous. The lights weren’t helping either, it felt like you were pouring with sweat from your forehead. You thought Tom was answering Ali, even if you couldn’t really hear  - everything had merged into a deafening roar. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, unconsciously making you fumble yourself to standing, desperate to get somewhere with fresh air. The last thing you saw before your vision tunnelled into darkness was Tom, reaching out to try and catch you. 

Because next thing you knew, you were on the floor, wires from all the cameras and lights digging into your back as you looked up to see Tom on one side and Lucy on the other - both wearing a similarly panicked expression. You knew you hadn’t been out long, seconds if that, going by the fact everyone else was in the ‘oh my god’ phase of panic. It was a bit weird how calm you where, but then again all your life you’d been the ‘class fainter’. Waking up on the floor was something you were long since used to. 

“Y/n? You awake?” Rather stating the obvious Tom asked the question as you bent your head up - allowing you sight of all the concerned facing oggling you. With a defeated sigh, you flopped your head back. 

“If this is a dream then it’s a real bloody nightmare.” This time Tom didnt seem to appreciate your joke, looking at you without almost dumbfounded eyes, as you blinked repetitively and groaned. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Lucy appeared to want to lecture you, which to be honest wasn’t the most time appropriate. You were still on the floor, legs crumpled up under you, so ignored her. Instead you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, taking a moment to blink away the blotchy haze that threatened to takeover your vision once again, whilst the pair above you both cautiously rested their palms on each of your shoulders -trying to be useful. The room still felt cramped and stifling, as everyone around were no doubt looking at you. 

It took a few minutes but your body seemed to get over itself, sitting up normally and trying to make small talk with Ali - who, by the way, was still sat awkwardly in the chair. Still nestled on the floor, your back up against the chair you had been siting on as you raved with Ali of the Harry Potter theatre show. In a natural lull in conversation, Tom perked up - from the door where he’d been muttering with the organiser as Lucy bit her nails nervously. 

“Y/n you need to go home.” 

All of you knew what Tom said was impossible. Not being egotistical, but you were too important. Although you hadn’t been paying masses of attention for Lucy’s run down of your itinerary - you knew it was packed. 

So you just looked up and rolled your eyes at Tom, earning yourself a strong glare, before locking the organiser in eye contact.

“How many have we got till lunch?” 

“Um this gent here” He gesturned toward Ali, who was almost squirming in his seat now “then two more.”  

“And then lunch?” 

“Yes, then you have a personal appearance at a dinner, so transport will be coming to pick you both up.” This poor guy seemed obsessed with the clock and his timetable, looking at your with a mixture of panic and frustration. You should know this stuff, you should’ve listened to Lucy. 

“How fars the drive?” 

“At this time probably an hour and a half.” 

The plan was clear in your head, you’d sort yourself out in the car and be fully fine by the afternoon and evening engagements. Plus you felt almost fine now. So with a sigh, you hauled yourself up onto the chair, patting for Tom to sit back down. 

“It’s half an hour and then I’ll sort myself out at lunch - come on their waiting.” The way Lucy pouted showed she disagreed somewhat, except a stern look kept her from protesting, as Tom walked toward you. 

“Are you sure you don’t loo-“

“Let me stop you before you insult my appearance.” Snickering slightly at his worried face, you laughed it off , knocking his side with a gentle murmur of ‘don’t worry about me’. 

In fact after that little episode you did feel a little recovered, which meant you were properly noticing the change in the boy sat next to you. Throughout the remaining three interviews he’d done a complete 360 from earlier. Rather than trying to get little digs at you, he had become fiercely protective - jumping in if a questions wasn’t particularly appropriate or relevant to the movie ( meaning when an awfully crap man asked what underwear you’d been able to wear in your suit) ; taking the heat of the conversation as well as just watching you like a hawk. Each time you answered his beady brown eyes were watching you from the side, you got the impression it wasn’t only just because of the risk of spoilers. 

Quite remarkably, you survived the rest of the day pretty well, after a power nap in the car on the way over - even if it was a bit difficult when you had your manager watching you like a hawk from the seat across. It was as if Lucy had never seen anyone ill before, she seemed concerned that you were going to spontaneously stop breathing and die at any point. 

Though by the time all the official business at the dinner was done, your body and willpower had reached the end of their tether. You and Tom were both on a round table, surrounded by 6 CEOs and execs of what seemed to be a multimillion pound business enterprise. With the language barrier meaning you had to speak through the two people on the table who were fluent in both japanese and English, the conversation was already pretty jilted. Though to be fair, the six did seem to be enjoying the evening - something you werent able to reciprocate. Thankfully, five minutes after the main course dishes had been collected, Tom spoke up from his position opposite you.

“This has been lovely and we really appreciate your time and generosity but me and Y/n have a really early start tomorrow so I think we should probably get back to the hotel.” You swore in that moment you could’ve kissed him, and it looked like Tom could tell - by the way your shoulders sagged and you let out an exhale of pure relief. Apparently even if you’d managed to convince the hosts you were enjoying the evening, Tom easily saw through the performance. After some hurried goodbyes, Tom led you out of the hall with his hand hovering over your lowerback, trying to make sure your exit was as discreet as possible. 

Away from the bubble of chatter and activity, in the deserted hallway, Tom stopped you - lightly holding both hands on each of your arms. 

“Wheres your team?” 

“Um Luce is back at the hotel, she was trying to see if she could reschedule any of my stuff tomorrow.” You winced at the way he sighed, realising you were all on your own in some random business event hall in Tokyo.

“Harry -my brother- is waiting in the car at the front - is that okay?”

“No Tom, don’t worry abo-“

“Yeh well I am and I think you feel ten times worse than you’re letting on.” He spoke harshly, like a school teacher telling you off - except the hint of a kind smile at the end was a dead giveaway. 

“You sure?” 

With a relieved nod (Tom had thought you might be a bit more stubborn - you obviously were really really ill) he wordlessly shrugged his suit jacket off, wrapping it round your shoulders. He muttered something about not wanting you to catch a chill but to be quite honest you were a bit distracted by the woody cedar smell of Toms aftershave that enveloped your senses. Maybe it wasn’t so bad being fussed on by him? To be fair he wasn’t wrong either, you were in a strapless evening dress - you would’ve preferred to be in joggers, but Marvels press team had other ideas. 

After a quick pit stop at the toilets, the two of you managed to make an unnoticed escape out the building - into a big SUV which had seconds prior pulled up onto the steps. You literally melted into the nearest window seat, body hunching over as you probably crumpled Tom’s jacket beyond belief. 2 seats along from you, a frizzy haired boy gave you a sympathetic smile, which you returned weakly whilst muttering a ‘hi’. Meanwhile, Tom pulled the sliding door shut, sitting across from you. 

“Oh Y/n this is Harry and Harry this is Y/n.” In unison both of you replied with an ‘I know’ eye roll. Your response was somewhat more shocking to both Holland boys, you could tell from the way they had this whole nonverbal conversation with their eyes - they were very clearly brothers. Needing to explain you continued. “I like to keep tabs on my castmates, I’ve seen you on Toms instagram.” That had both boys smirking, Harry presumably just because you knew who he was; Tom more smugly, you’d just given away you slightly stalked him on instagram. 

Silence reigned for a moment, as the driver put his foot down slightly. 

“How you doing?” Tom asked. 

“Mhm…” you thought for a second, how to eloquently describe the sensation. 

“shit.” 

Both boys chuckled a little and even though you had closed your eyes in an attempt to dull the throbbing behind your temples, you could feel the eyes on you. 

“You want the music off?” Harry asked, referring to the indie-rock coming quietly out the speakers of his laptop, which was resting on his lap. With a shake of your head you refused, even if really silence probably would help your head, you were already causing the two Hollands enough trouble - no need to bore them during the journey back into central Tokyo, especially when you weren’t the most enthusiastic company ever. 

Thankfully the music stayed on a low volume, whilst the car seemed to settle into a comfortable silence. With a long exhale you fluttered your eyes open, seeing Tom focused on his phone, before you rested the side of your head against the black-out glass. Taking some relief from the cool glass, you huddled further into the corner of the car against the door.

Floating in the space between sleep and wakefulness, you were kind of aware of your head occasionally bobbing and jerking about - but really didn’t have the energy or willpower to do anything about it. Instead, the thing that perked your attention was hearing some supposed-whispering from inside the body of the car.

“I know she said she didn’t care but she was clearly lying-“ 

“Like you know! You’ve been desperate to try and spend some time with Y/n- maybe you poisoned her just so you could be all knight-in-shini-“

“Turn. The. Music. Off.” Tom sounded scathing now, and with a grumble from your other-side the cheery drum beats ceased.

“Happy now?” …and Harry was sarcastic. 

“Swap places with me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

“Why?”

“So she can lie down.” 

“Well no because you would still be in the way if we swapped.”

“Yeh but she can lie on my lap idiot.”

“She can lie on me.”

“She doesn’t know you!”

“Well for 1, barely ten minutes ago she said she did know me. And 2, she doesn’t know you any better!”

If this was their version of whispering, you would love to hear what volume ‘shouting’ was. There was no reply for a short while, you imagined the two brunettes locked in some intense staring match.The next time Tom spoke he sounded more defeated - almost begging. 

“If I admit you beat me at the driving range the other day will you-” 

“I KNEW IT!” Harry yelped, the volume making you jerk, eyes flying open before reflexively closing because the light was too bright. There was a little mutter of an apology, then silence again. 

Once agin you must’ve drifted off because it felt like absolutely no time had passed when a firm but gently hand on your shoulder nudged you awake. 

Sure enough the boys had swapped position, Tom now sitting along the seat from you, Harry looked a little sulky from across the way. It was Tom who was reaching over, a gentle and peaceful smile on his face.

“You wanna lie down? Don’t want you to strain your neck.” He wasn’t wrong, adding to the throbbing headache, the cloudiness in your brain and the unsettled feeling in your stomach… now your neck hurt. Just bloody great. 

Had you been your normal witty and perceptive self, you might’ve teased Tom as to why him and his brother had done a switch - but everything hurt and all you wanted to do was sleep for a hundered years. So with squinting eyes you jerkily nodded, missing how Tom chuckled to himself. The guy undid your seatbelt, then sat back to let you balance the back of your head on his thigh, looking up at the roof of the SUV. Already your eyes were closed again, you kicked off your slip-on heels and bent your legs up to lean against the backrest - occupying the position you had been sat in before hand. You felt his hands reposition the jacket, pulling it round so it was now like a blanket tucked under your chin. 

To be fair it was much more comfortable than sitting up and you weren’t even aware of how quickly you dropped back into sleep. 

Though it wasn’t quick enough to miss Harry’s very sulky sounding comment, presumably meant only for Tom’s ears. 

“Still think you’re being fucking creepy bro.” 

<33 lemme know what u think! (would make me feel less guilty for not doing all the work I rlly should be doing aha)

tagging : @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove

[levisgirll]

hi mina! i'm back again to make a request for you because you write so wonderfully i can't-! it's okay if you don't want to write it tho :D

may i ask for some prince jean headcanons/scenario? maybe something like the reader is his maid or modist, and he's kinda in love :D (this is just an idea, feel free to modify, i trust in your magical writing skills!)

sorry for this messy request and thanks! take breaks and care sweetie <3

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐮𝐭𝐲 (𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐔)

text: omg HII ANTI <3 I’m glad ur back with another request and I would happily write this for you cutie c; thank you for also finding my work nice ahh this really makes me happy that someone out there likes my writing and ideas djkjsk 🥺❤️❤️ okay but this is such a cute idea- its my first time writing a royal au so i hope it turned out okay and u liked it :,) make sure to also take care of yourself too bae 😌✨ okay I decided to make the reader a strong willed bodyguard instead of a maid cause I had some ideas for that instead so I hope that's alright 😭

synopsis: y/n has started to work for the kirstein royal family and due to their many great skills, abilities, attention to detail, and great self defense training, y/n was hired and trusted to be prince jean’s personal bodyguard! They have always admired prince jean and how handsome he is, later did they know not only y/n is developing feelings for jean but so does he, and he falls in love with y/n instantly! Although, something happens along the way....

fluff, lil bit mention of blood/knife, royal au ♡ —

Erwin has hired you to join the Kirstein royal family army, after two years training to be a solider to defend the country against the Jaegerists which were a rebel faction that wanted Eren to be the next king instead and to create a ‘New Jaeger Empire’. Also, wanting to protect the prince, which was one of your goals. You really admired prince Jean of how affectionate, kind, honest, and straightforward he is, you wanted to stay and be loyal to him.

Everything changes though when you graduated from the military training with your friends Connie and Sasha. Erwin had suddenly made you prince Jean’s personal bodyguard. “With your great skills y/n, and how loyal and strong you are, I think you will be a perfect choice to have the role as his personal bodyguard!”

You stood there, shocked, and your eyes were wide open. “M-Me Commander?....Of course! I would be honored to!” You will finally see jean, and be by his side! The thought of that would make your cheeks go red...it’s cause you are loyal to him right?

Erwin escorted you and took you to Prince jean who you spotted was sitting on the dinner table hall. “Erwin...! Huh? Who’s that?” Jean was quick to notice your presence, and he was quite taken aback with your presence.

“Your new personal bodyguard Prince Jean. With how bad the situation is going, you never know who will come and attack you. So, Y/N here is going to be by your side and make sure they protect you. If you also ever need anything, you can ask Y/N.” Erwin patted on your back and you went forward and saluted to Jean. “A-At your service Prince Jean!”

“O-Oh...alright then, whatever.” He got up and walked past you both, leaving the dinning hall, you could have sworn you saw his cheeks went a bit red. “He is usually like this at the beginning, but he seems to like you!”

As the days passed, you and Prince Jean actually got along pretty well which made your bond stronger. He seemed to be the kind of person who wouldn't care from the outside, but you realized he cared about everyone and when it came to you...he would always ask if you are doing well. Things seemed to be fine at the moment, for now.

“Young master! You have a meeting with the chairman at Trost District soon.” You said as you were next to Jean, catching up with his pace. “Okay, let's get going then!” He gave you a grin which made you blush, as the both of you approached the carriage, he went ahead and opened the door for you! “Well, are you getting in or not?” You felt all eyes on you, and heard some gasps. ‘It should be the other way around!’ you thought as you got inside while feeling so embarrassed.

You were both alone sitting down in the carriage and you could feel Jean’s eyes all over you, “Young mas-” you were stunned when he held your hands and you looked at his eyes that was searching your gaze. “Don't call me that when we are alone....Didn’t I tell you that?” You couldn't hold it, you were a blushing mess now!

“Okay...J-Jean, why did you do that? People will get the wrong idea..” Lately, Jean has been very affectionate towards you, although you had to admit you had a crush on him, but you could never say that to him.

“So? Y/N...I don't care what others think about us, I care about what you think instead.” He started to caress your hands while still looking at your eyes, “M-Me?” He nodded, waiting for your answer but you pushed away gently and looked away. “Well, it’s my duty...to protect you and serve you.” You tried to change the subject while still looking outside the window, but....you noticed something off? Where is this carriage heading too?

“No! Y/N that’s not it...I meant I...” He came closer to you, too close to your face while he was blushing madly, you touched his chest to try and push him back a bit, and you felt his heart beat like crazy. Is he...nervous?

“Jean. Not now I-” As you tried to finish what you were trying to say, the carriage stopped suddenly which made you and Jean fall. “What the hell?” He yelled out and looked at you immediately, full of concern. “Are you okay?”

“Young master stay inside!” Before he could stop you, you open the carriage door and stepped out, while shutting it tight. You brought your sword out and examined the area and situation. ‘The carriage man is gone...we are in the woods...and I sense someone, but who?!’

“Come out, whoever you are...or perhaps you are a Jaegerist?” As soon as you said that, a sword was seen to be thrown out at you and you quickly stopped it by slashing it to hit on the other direction with your long strong sword.

“Hmph, you seem to be smart.” You head turned quick to the direction where you heard the voice. You saw a middle aged man with a tousled auburn hair “And? Who the fuck is asking?” You pointed your sword at him with a stoic expression, showing him no fear. “It’s Floch, and if you could do me a favor how about you just leave and let me deal with the Prince okay?”

You let out a chuckle, then gave him a death glare. “Make me.”

“Fuck, you are stubborn, let me just finish you off!! Don't you get it? This crappy prince doesn't deserve to be the next king to rule us!! It should be Eren!” He yelled out and brought out a knife and charged at you, you put your sword away and decide to do hand-to-hand combat on him. You took your stance and when he was near you, Y/N pushed the knife down and then quickly did the grappling technique, which took him down completely.

“Young Master! Call the headquarters for backup, we were tricked and put in a trap!” You said as you were trying to hold on to Floch, not letting him escape. “O-On it!”

“It’s quiet....too quiet no way this guy came alon-” You looked up and you saw someone charging at you with their sword, she was fast and you quickly got up and brought your sword to stop her attack for defense.

‘F-Fuck...that was close.’ You backed away and looked at the carriage, ‘He needs to be safe...’  you wondered and started to worry.

“About fucking time Mikasa!” Floch shouted out as he rubbed his hands which you held on tightly earlier. “Wait...I know you! Ackerman right? It's a privilege to meet you.” Mikasa Ackerman, she was one of the Ackerman that stood behind and did not serve the Kirstein royal family, but instead stood by Eren’s side and believed in him.

“And your Y/N, the strong bodyguard. Please step aside.” She sounded very serious and looked strong. The rumors were true, she did neglect the royal family and went with the Jaegerists rebel group.

‘Ha...who would have known this mission would be a complete disaster!’ You thought and as you were preparing to attack, until Jean came out of the carriage with his sword and pointed at them. “Don't Hurt Y/N!!”

Your eyes widened as you turned your head to look at him. “Young Master! What the hell are you doing? Don’t come out and run away!”

“B-But...” Jean stuttered and looked at you, he did not want to leave you behind and run like a coward, leaving behind....the most important person to him that he cared about the most. “No! I promised to protect you, so ru-” Being distracted by Jean, everything now seem to have stopped for you and there was a pitch silence. You looked in front of you and felt what seemed like a dagger stabbed towards your side waist, blood was dripping and the one who stabbed you was Floch!

“Floch...! Why?! That was not part of the plan!” Mikasa yelled out, and what seemed to be shocked by his action. Everything was going too quickly for you, you placed your hand on his shoulder and shoved him away which made him fall back. You gripped your waist and yelled out, “I-If it’s meant to protect the Prince...Then come at me!”

You heard lot’s of horses approaching and you finally spotted Erwin’s squad who finally came for backup. You noticed Levi by Erwin’s side and as soon as he saw you bleeding, he got provoked and got off from his horse and charged at Mikasa. “An Ackerman with an Ackerman, Hm? Traitor, let me deal with you.”

You let out a sigh, now knowing the Prince is safe and Levi and Erwin’s squad was here to help you guys out. Jean ran towards you and held on to you as you fell down on your knees “Y-Y/N!!”

“Why....Why didn’t you run away?” You said softly and trying to stay conscious, Jean quickly placed his hand on your cheek while the other arm was used to hold your body, “Cause I care about you Damnit!”

You gave him a weak smile and held on his hand that was placed on your cheek, “Did I do...my best to serve you?” Was all you could say and you slowly passed out due to the blood loss you had and you heard Jean's voice drifted slowly.

After a couple of hours have passed, you woke up what seemed to be in a hospital, and you were wrapped around bandages. You moved a bit which made you wince at the pain from your side abdomen.

“Don’t move around! You are still injured and you haven’t healed yet.” A girl with long beautiful blonde hair said, full of concern in her tone as she came closer to you and checked up on you. Her large blue eyes were examining your injury to see if the wound was closed up. “A-And you are?”

“I’m Historia! A nurse who is looking after you. Doctor Hanji told me to stay by your side until you wake up.” She said with a big smile and she looked like an angel to you.

“W-Where is the Prince! Is he okay?!” You said all worried and started to panic. “Haha, Don't worry! He is fine, thanks to you protecting him! He told me to notify him when you wake up but I think you need to rest a bit longer.”

You let out a sigh, ‘At least he is fine...but I want to see him.’ You wondered and looked outside the window to let your thoughts run around your mind as you slowly closed your eyes to rest.

“Y/N...Hey Y/N wake up.” You felt a rub against your shoulders and you opened your eyes to see Prince Jean looking down at you with a relief escaping his mouth. “I’m glad you are looking fine, but are you doing okay?”

You slowly got up which Jean held on your arm for support, “Y-Yea, thanks for stopping by...Jean.” You were blushing at how he suddenly started to caress your arm, then up your shoulders. He went in closer and gave you a tight hug around your shoulders. “Damn it! I thought I was gonna lose you today, that’s it...I'm not backing away with this anymore.” He pulled back, and was looking at your face. “J-Jean...What do you mea-”

“Y/N, I love you. I loved you ever since I first saw you coming and you were always by my side, but in a way that made me feel calm, good and I felt your warmth all the time it would make me fall for you even more everyday...Being with you feels right to me!” He stopped talking and looked away, he was clearly embarrassed on what he just said, the prince was confessing to you and he was finally saying that he was falling in love with you!

You were shocked, was he actually saying this all? Was the Prince actually confessing to you? You couldn't help yourself but smile to what he said and you finally held his hands, “I...I feel the same way too!” You let out now a big smile and tears started to form on your eyes, you felt so happy and so did he.

He looked behind to make sure the door was closed and then looked back at you who was now approaching your face closely and he started to give you a passionate kiss, you held on his hands while he was holding your face, lifting it up and he kept on kissing you. The night had a nice cold breeze and the window was slightly open which made the wind come in and that made your hair flow slowly as you both continued to kiss slowly and gently.

Jean pulled back and you both were breathing heavily, by the looks of it, you could tell you were Jean’s first kiss. He wanted to kiss you again and again, “I’m now love sick cause of you.”

The night went out so peacefully and you both enjoyed each others company while holding hands and caressing each others cheeks when talking about various topics and he went on explaining how brave and strong you were today when you stood up and fought against Floch and Mikasa. He found your confidence very attractive. He felt like a lucky man to have you by his side and he promised you that after he becomes king he would make you his.

𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 : Usually in the evenings, he would sneak into your place because he begged that he wanted to see you and stay at your place for a couple of hours to cuddle and kiss you. It was his favorite place in the world cause it was just y/n and him, alone. “Okay Jean, you have to go now!” You said blushing at how clingy Jean was towards you, hugging your waist. “Please just another 5 minutes babe, besides come on it’s just you and me tonight.” Jean would say playfully while he would give you a soft kiss on your scar that was on your waist ♥

okay but this was a really fun royal au I wrote up and I'm kinda glad how the first time I'm writing it went well! thanks anti for the request again and I hope you liked it <3 and if anyone else did please then leave a like or a reblog! it would mean a lot c:

[ppersonna]

half baked - pjm | m

baby we two distant strangers. i know you don't speak my language, but I love the way she's talking to me - love talk, wayv

↳ summary- park jimin gets a job at your bakery, and you can’t help but find yourself annoyingly attracted to the cocky man.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- park jimin x reader

↳ word count- 5.2k

↳ genre- smut, fluff

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, lightly dom!jimin, sub!reader, slight enemies2lovers, sex in a kitchen, please god don’t fuck in a kitchen its a health code violation, spanking, nipple play, cum play, fingering

↳ a/n- ahHH!HHHHhhh!H! i blame this 100% on @wwilloww​ for merely putting the idea in my head and i had to take it and run with it.  also thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ my babe/my loml for the amazing banner! i truly do not deserve u but ily so much.  and thank you to @chimoona​ @ladyartemesia​ @xjoonchildx​ @taetaewonderland​ for being the best mf squad a lady could have and beta-ing this for me! i love you all so much! i hope you enjoy silly cocky jimin!

 Two cups of flour, one and three quarters cup sugar, 2 cups of butter.

You know the recipes by heart.  In fact, one might postulate that the recipes themselves are the sole contents of your heart.  

You live and breathe baking. It is your solace and your truest love.

Which is why it is all nearly thrown into catastrophe when Park Jimin comes into the picture.

It starts on a rather busy day.  You’re hard at work in the kitchen, prepping the finished products and presenting them in neat little boxes, when your best friend and co-owner of Wake ‘N Bake, Willow, lets out a frustrated squeal..  You turn your head to find her covered head to toe in flour, making you snort as she shoots you a playfully ominous glare.

“Shut up,” she sniffs as she attempts to pat some fine dust off of her, to no avail. “I only have two hands and about fifty things to do with them at the same time.”

Your lips part to reply something equally sassy when the bell over the front door rings, notifying you of a paying customer.  Grabbing a towel, you quickly wipe off cookie debris and throw it at your best friend to do her best to clean off as she follows behind you.

You pause as you take stock of who stands there. A handsome man arrives at the cash register and peers around, presumably looking for an employee.  He is gorgeous—ethereal even and looks like someone who walked out of the pages of a magazine. His bone structure screams model, and you can’t help but feel the stirrings of desire for the beautiful stranger.

“Hi! Welcome to Wake ‘N Bake!” Willow sings cheerfully, despite being coated in baking flour.

The man eyes her with a glint of humor in his eye, and Willow’s cheeks turn a hue of pink when she remembers her current appearance.

“Hi,” he speaks. His voice is smooth like butter, and gentle. It makes you feel weak, like you’re warming in the very ovens that your pastries rise in.

“I saw your shop from down the street and I had to stop in. Your desserts look amazing.  Is the owner here by chance?”

Your smile fades as he looks around the room for someone else, someone beyond you and your best friend.

Of course.

No one believes that two young women could start and maintain their own business. Everyone assumes that some older, well-off man was at the helm while you and Willow toil for minimum wage.

Your arms cross over your body in clear displeasure.

“We are the owners.”

“Oh!”  The man looks surprised but not put off. “Awesome. I was hoping I could… talk to you about, err—… a job?”

His face is sheepish and Willow nearly coos at the sight.

Unfortunately, it appears you and your best friend have warring ideas.

“Yes!” She chimes at the same moment you dead-pan a resounding ‘No’.

Your heads spin to stare at each other—Willow’s eyes wide in disbelief and yours in annoyance.

“We need the help!” She huffs.

“We can do things on our own, like we always have,” you remind her.

Willow gestures to her flour covered clothing in desperation.

“We clearly could use help with how successful we have gotten!”

To your chagrin, she has a point. It might be nice to have someone to help in the front while the two of you manage the kitchen in the back.  It would increase your productivity by double what you’re able to do now.

But there’s something about his attitude coming in that rubs you the wrong way.  Like, he’s too pretty. Too confident. Too nice.

“What’s your baking experience?” You ask as you turn back to the hopelessly lost, yet ever eager man.

“Oh, err—,” he stutters. “I worked at my friend Jin’s restaurant. That served desserts, too?”

You shake your head in disdain while Willow claps her hands in excitement, a puff of white flour dust pluming into the air.

“Perfect! So you could do sales!?”

“Yeah! I can do sales, no problem.”

You turn your gaze back to Willow who stares at the man like he is her knight in shining armor.

“Willow?! Can I talk to you in the back?”

She knows that tone—the one that tells her you’re not pleased with her decisions. She nods once and politely excuses the both of you from the man before heading back towards the kitchen.

“What in the world is wrong with you?!” She asks the moment the swinging door closed.

“Me?!” You’re incredulous—hands flying in the air. “You’re over here trying to hire the first Joey Hot-Lips who walks in off the street!”

Willow’s anguished face falls and turns into a devilish smirk as she leans back on her heels.

“Aha! You’re attracted to him,” she notes as if she figured out the world's greatest mystery. “That’s why you don’t want him here.”

“What? No!” Your defense crumbles around you. “Did you hear him? He totally acted like he didn’t believe we could be the owners!”

“Oh, come on, that was a simple mistake and you know it!  You’re just being protective.”

You ‘humph’ a non-committal response—unable to argue.

You are protective of your bakery. It’s your combined love child with Willow. What started as a dream between cocktails with your best friend became a real brick and mortar reality.  You had been through enough trying to open it you can’t help but feel skeptical of anyone trying to get involved. Many tried to discredit your ability to maintain such a successful shop, and you’d rather continue to run it with no one else than see it fall at the hands of another.

“Just as I thought,” Willow hums. “In that case, he’s hired!”

You’re given no chance to reply—the flour-covered girl pushes through the swinging doors and announces to the handsome man that he’s hired and free to start the following day.

“Great!  Thanks!” His smile is sincere—blinding and breathtaking, and you hate how much you want to see that smile again.

He leaves as quickly as he arrived, waving goodbye as he exits the chiming door.

“Now, you need to deal with whatever issues you have about letting others into the shop,” she says pointedly, pushing a finger into your arm gently. “And whatever issues you have with wanting to bone him.”

“Willow!” You gasp. “I do not want to bone him!”

“Sure, babe. You think you can fool me but I know you too well. Just try not to fuck him in the kitchen, alright? I don’t need the health inspector up our ass.”

The next early morning starts at 4:30 am, with you elbow deep in cookie dough for a catering order.  You’ve nearly forgotten about the new employee starting until the man himself strolls into the back kitchen as if he’s worked there for years.

“Hey!” He says cheerfully, two cups of coffee in his hands. “I got you a coffee. Willow said you’re a nightmare without some in the morning.”

Your eyes narrow at the man. It’s unfair how delicious he looked so early; while you look like a frizzy mess who rolled out of bed and walked into work (which you did), he looked polished and crisp and clean. It’s infuriating as much as it’s glaringly attractive.

“Thanks,” you mutter as you pick cookie dough off your hands and pull off your plastic sanitary gloves. “Every girl loves hearing she’s a nightmare.”

He chuckles behind his steaming cup and places yours on the workbench next to you.

“Those were her words, of course. I’d never call you a nightmare.”

You easily flush, then chastise yourself for allowing him to make you feel so weak so early in the morning.

“To be fair,” he continues. “I don’t even know your name.”

“___,” you sigh as you grab the coffee and bring it to your lips. “And you?”

“Jimin. Park Jimin.”

The first sip of coffee is like a soothing hug. He somehow knew how you took your coffee—two creams and two sugars.

“I didn’t know how you liked it, so I just guessed.”

“Good guess.”

Jimin smirks and looks proud of his accomplishment.

“You seem like the type of girl who likes balance to her sweetness.”

You stare at him curiously over your own steaming paper cup, unsure of what to make of his comment.

“Good morning to the love of my life!” Comes the voice of your best friend entering through the back door.

You roll your eyes in amusement as she teeters in, peppy and perky as she always is this early.

“Oh! Hi, Jimin.”  Her cheeks turn a familiar shade of rose as she realizes he heard her. “I didn’t know you were here yet.  That’s just a… thing we say to each other every morning.”

“Cute.” Jimin smirks at you, making your stomach lift with unwanted butterflies. “Where do you want me?”

Underneath you, beside you, above you, any possibly way...

You shake your head quickly to push away the sexual thoughts of the gorgeous man taking you from any position. No, you refuse to let your mind wander there.

Willow finishes washing her hands and putting on her apron before she nods to the fridge.

“If you can get the milk, eggs, and butter out, we’ll use you for creaming.”

Your cheeks heat impossibly as Jimin smirks even wider.

“Oh, I’m fantastic at creaming.”

Your hands pause from where they massage dough while you close your eyes and breathe, before lifting to glare at your best friend who wears a faux-innocent look.

“I’m sure you are, Jimin,” she chimes virtuously, before getting to work.

The next few weeks were a haze. You’re so caught up with graduations, birthdays, weddings and major events that your time spent at the shop overtakes your time sleeping, breathing, existing in any way that isn’t baking.

Even Jimin was busy.  Despite your initial hesitancy, he was proving to be an excellent third member of your team.  He’s a pro at sales—you’re sure his good looks and the mostly female clientele helps—and he pitches in in the kitchen without fail. He even tries his hand at decorating cakes, with only one frosting-based spill.  You would never give Willow the satisfaction of telling her outright, but she made an excellent decision in hiring the dazzling man.

But it doesn’t stop your annoying heart from fluttering every time he comes close to you—rubs elbows as he helps you roll out dough or smiles at you from across the workbench as he stamps out sugar cookies.  You refuse to allow yourself any thoughts on what it would taste like to lick dough off his fingers or how he would look bending you over the countertop to take you from behind.

You only allow such thoughts at night, safely tucked into bed with your vibrator cranked to the highest setting.

It doesn’t help that Jimin solidifies himself in your life by introducing his handsome and dopey best friend Jungkook to your gorgeous and clumsy best friend Willow.  The moment they laid eyes on each other, you knew you were doomed to have Jimin in your life with or without the bakery.

And you weren’t sure how to handle that notion.

Was Jimin flirting with you simply because you were there?  He seemed to have no problem flirting with the customers.  Sure, the shop has never made more money than when Jimin works his charms and seduces women of all ages to buy the extra cookies, cannolis, and cakes—not that you watched or glared or hated every second. No, of course not. It was for the good of your business and the angry jealousy demon inside you would need to stay firmly locked away.

Except, it’s on a particularly crowded day at the shop that your jealousy gets the best of you.

You’re up front assisting Jimin by boxing and bagging the treats he rings up.

You know he’s flirtatious, but it’s when he goes the extra mile for an extra pretty girl that you lose your cool on him the moment the customers leave.  

“Do you have to eye-fuck every single co-ed that walks in this place?!”

Your hands fly up in frustration, and Jimin watches you with a soft gaze.

His silence and knowing smirk makes you continue.

“Seriously? What the fuck was that about?! You’re acting like you’re about to bend her over right here in front of us! Jesus!”

Willow hears the commotion from the back and comes forward.

“What’s going on here?” She asks suspiciously.

You point towards Jimin who maintains his poised demeanor.

“I’m reminding Jimin that work is not a place to sexually engage our customers!”

Willow rolls her eyes as she pulls her apron off and grabs her coat from the hook.

“Whatever, you’re being ridiculous. Jimin’s never been inappropriate. Plus, he’s making us a fuck-ton of money,” she sighs. “You two can close up without killing each other right?”  She eyes you in particular.

You cross your arms and huff, glancing at the clock to find you have two hours still until closing. “Why? Where are you going?”

Willow’s annoyance fades away as if it never existed.

“Jungkook is taking me to the Museum of the Printing Press!”

You can’t help but choke a laugh while she pushes your arm.

“Shush! You know how much I love them! And he totally surprised me with tickets!”

Willow can’t shake that lovesick look in her eyes and your heart melts a little. She’s your best friend and you’re thrilled she’s found someone who wants to indulge her in her nerdy fascinations.

“Go have fun, babe,” you smile sincerely. “We can take care of closing. Now, go fuck on a letterpress or whatever!”

Willow snorts and hugs you tight, bids goodbye to Jimin, and exits the store.

Now that your quick anger is gone, you feel sheepish around the man who has yet to reply to your tirade—but you refuse to stick around under his piercing gaze.

“I’ll be in the back,” you mumble under your breath before slipping into the kitchen before he can get any word in edge wise.

You spend the rest of the evening monologuing an apology as you prep ingredients for the next morning and clean your workstations.  The shop is closed, doors locked, and Jimin is somewhere at the front of the house finishing his duties.

“‘Hey, I’m sorry for the way I acted’,” you practice out loud. “Hm—no, not humble enough. ‘Hey Jimin, I was a real bitch’, too degrading?  Maybe something like, ‘Hey Chim, can I call you Chim? That was fucked up, wasn’t it? Haha.’ God!” You throw your rag down in a huff, frustrated at your inability to form a decent apology.

“You can call me Chim, if you want,” a voice speaks from behind you.

You squeak in surprise and turn around, clutching your apron in your hands as you find Jimin leaning against a wall with a smirk on his face.

“Only my closest friends call me Chim, but I think we’re close enough.”

You swallow hard and nibble at your lip.

“I’m assuming you heard that whole… thing,” you mumble anxiously.  His nod confirms that he heard your entire play-by-play of the apology you would deliver to the handsome man.

“Yeah,” he licks at his lips. “You know, you’re really cute when you’re jealous.”

“J-jealous?” You nearly trip over your own tongue.  “I wasn’t—, I’m not jealous!”

Jimin begins a slow approach towards you, striding as he keeps his sparkling eyes on yours.

“Oh?”  He quirks his head, making his soft hair fall into his face.  You desperately want to push it away, cup his cheek, kiss those ridiculously plump lips.

He can tell you’re staring at this mouth and it makes his smirk turn nearly feral.

“So, you weren’t jealous? Not a single bit?”

He inches closer and you can feel your heart tighten in your chest and your stomach twists in on itself in excitement, in nerves.

“N-no,” you whisper, unconvincingly.

“You didn’t want to be the one I was making eyes at?  The one who ‘gets bent over the counter’ as you said?”

“I—,” Jimin cuts your words short as he stands a breath away from you.

“I guess if you weren’t jealous, then I don’t have to tell you you’re the one I really want to bend over the counter.”

You’re sure your heart stops beating—positive that it will fall from its place in your ribs into your feet.  

“What?”

Jimin cups a hand to your cheek and smiles as he steps even closer.

“If you’re not jealous, then I don’t have to reassure you you’ve got nothing to be jealous over.”

Your lips run dry, throat parched as if you’ve never had a sip of water.  Jimin is standing so close to you you can feel the heat coming off of him in waves.

“Jimin—,” you breathe and he continues forward until he presses you against the countertop and crowding you into the metal and wood.

“Tell me you were jealous.”

You gulp, eyes seeking his for an answer, for any information.  Is he playing you? Does he know you’re hopelessly attracted to him?  Does he find it humorous to tease you when Willow isn’t here to insert herself into your flirting.

“I was jealous,” you admit slowly. The words are hard to release, but once they do, the floodgates open. “I wanted to be the one you flirted with.  I was jealous because I want to be the one you notice.”

Jimin smirks, then pulls your face in quickly for a heated kiss.

His lips are just as plush, just as soft as you imagined.  They’re puffy and sweet and he tastes like one of the treacle tarts you made that morning.  He must have had one with lunch, and you find yourself addicted to the way he tastes with your creations on him. You wonder what he’d taste like with your arousal coating that tender, plump mouth.

He bites at your own lip and tugs, chucking under his breath as you mewl your desire at the slight hint of pain.

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re angry like that,” he breathes as he presses his forehead to yours.  “I nearly popped a boner while you were yelling at me. I could tell you were jealous, and it made me want you more.”

It’s hard to hear him speak so candidly—it makes you groan.

“Jimin—fuck,” you sigh. “I’ve been attracted to you since you walked into this goddamn place.”

He smirks and snags your lips up in another desperate, yet quick, kiss.

“I know.  It’s why you didn’t want me to work here.”

You grumble after he pulls away, tired of the teasing and wanting nothing more than to stop talking and start doing.

“I didn’t like you because you assumed I wasn’t the owner.”

He smiles and rubs at your arms, a softer expression crossing his face.

“No, but I hoped you were.”

It’s silent for a moment and you let his words wash over you as he continues.

“I was attracted to your authority.  I could tell you were important here somehow, just didn’t know in what way.”

You swallow your growing guilt.  You had clocked Jimin entirely wrong.

“Jimin, I’m sorry,” you start.

“Hey, hey, I already heard your apology, remember?” He smiles.  “Although, I could think of a great way to mend the wounds if you’re interested.  No pressure.”

His soft smile becomes a devilish grin instantly and your body lights with instant arousal.

“What did you have in mind?”

His lips press to yours again and you nearly lose yourself completely in his embrace.  Your arms circle his neck and he holds you tight at your waist, before pulling away from you, yet again.

“I happen to be very good at creaming, if you’ll recall.”

You can’t hold back a snort of laughter, that quickly gets covered by Jimin’s hot lips, one’s he will not pull away from you any time soon.

“You want to, right here?” You ask as he trails a hot line down your throat.

“Yeah, do you?”  

You vaguely remember Willow’s threat of not fucking in the kitchen, but find you can’t seem to care an ounce.

“Fuck yeah, I do.”

Jimin needs to hear no more.  He pulls you close and kisses you with the remaining amounts of pent-up passion and emotion he feels for you.  He’s grown to love the way you take charge, the way you move through the building like you own the place—because you do.  He loves the power you radiate and wants nothing more than to make you give up that power for a single night, to him.

“You wanna do this… all the way?” He asks, re-assuring himself that he’s not throwing himself at his boss.

“I want you, Jimin.  I want you to bend me over this workbench and fuck me until I’m crying for more.  Please.”

He grins and lays a hand on your neck, fingers tracing the gentle lines.  

“I might not let you boss me around,” he warns.

“Take control.”  Your eyes are blazing with need.  It makes him smile, and he gives the moment a slight pause.

“Then, get on your knees and show me just how sorry you are for yelling at me.”

You’re sinking to your knees quicker than you can comprehend.  Jimin is almost thrown at how instantly you caved and submitted to him.  He watches as your eyes stay fixed on his and your hands work at the button of his tight jeans.  

“That’s right,” he murmurs.  “Right where you belong.  No one else.”

You preen—heart warming at the idea that you’re the only one he wants kneeling before him and tugging his cock out of its confines.  

It springs forward, and it pulls your gaze from Jimin’s magnetic eyes.  It’s long and thick, just like you suspected all those nights with your vibrator stuffed where he should be.  Your mouth waters at the sight and you lean towards it to mouth at it gently—pressing soft open-mouth kisses to the tip.

“Oh, shit,” Jimin gasps.  Your fiery mouth feels like heaven on his cock.  It’s something he’s equally dreamed about—spent many nights fisting his cock to the thought of you.

You take your time, licking tiny stripes around the head and down the shaft, until Jimin becomes weary of the teasing.

“Please, take it all.”  His request is so genuine, so needy, that you’re loath to deny him.

He slips into your mouth with ease, slicked up just enough by your trailing kisses that he slides in and hits the back of your throat in seconds.  His eyes close as he feels his cock-head hit the back of your throat—a tighter and more constricting feeling in your already impossibly tight mouth.  It feels like absolute bliss, and he’s gasping for air after mere moments of you holding him inside your mouth to the hilt.

He doesn’t need to speak; you know what to do.  Your mouth works him in and out, tongue swirling around any open real estate of his cock.   His moans echo around the tile of the kitchen walls and he’s sure that the sight of you on your knees with his cock disappearing in and out of your mouth will have him cumming in no time.  

He steels himself, makes his body behave because he wants to enjoy this and the way you feel.  As good as your mouth feels, he’s desperate to know what it’s like to slide into that cunt he’s spent too many nights dreaming about.

“Oh, fuck,” he whines as you make delicious, slurping noises from the gathering saliva.  It’s a wet squelching sound that makes him even harder than what he believes is possible—all blood in his head now completely rushed to his dick for his pleasure.

“B-Babe!” He calls as he feels his balls tightening.  He doesn’t want to cum, not yet.

He grips your head by the scalp of your hair and pulls you off his cock that is seconds away from losing control.

“Please, I’ve got to fuck you,” he nearly begs.

You wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand and smirk, licking the tip of his cock teasingly before standing up to his full height.

Jimin’s hands fly to your expensive leggings that you insist on wearing to work while he kisses you.  The kiss is feverish, frantic. It’s full of tongue and teeth and desperate moaning against each other as he pushes down the pants and delicate panties, and cups your cunt in one hand.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper against his mouth as the pad of his finger slides against your clit.

“You’re fucking soaked.  All from sucking my cock?”  He’s cocky and sucks a mark onto your neck as he massages the bundle of nerves.

“Don’t be arrogant now,” you warn with a smile.

He presses his tongue to your ear and licks a stripe and chuckles.

“I think you like it when I’m arrogant. Your pussy sure seems to like it.”

He emphasizes his words by slipping two fingers into your channel and fucks into you, scissoring you open.  He cuts off any chance for you to retort by launching his lips back to yours and prowling around your mouth with his tongue.

His fingers are small but fill you so deeply, and you’re sure his hand is drenched with your arousal.

“J-Jimin, please,” you gasp as you pull your mouth away to breathe in deep.  “Please, just fuck me already.”

He growls into your ear.  

“I thought I told you you’re not in charge.”

He spins you easily until your back is pressed to his chest.  He grabs the hem of your shirt and lifts, throwing the shirt away and quickly making work of your bra clasps to join the shirt on the floor.

His hands cup your full breasts and you can’t help but whimper at the feeling of his soft and warm hands.  He feels so good against the chilled skin of your chest and he tweaks and thumbs your nipples until they stand perky and erect.

“I’ve always wanted to bend you over this counter,” he muses in your ear as he pulls a nipple harshly.  It makes you squeak out at the pain, then moan as the pain turns into a sizzling, pleasurable spike that runs through your veins.

“Every time I would catch you staring at me, I just wanted to fuck your cute little throat until you were gagging around me.”

Your eyes close as he continues his abuse on your perky nipples and whispering his deepest thoughts about you.

“I wanted to lift your cute dresses and eat your cunt until you’re wailing loud enough all the customers can hear.”

“Jimin,” you nearly cry.  “Please, fuck me.”

You can feel his hardness lining up behind you, rubbing at your sodden folds to cover his length in your slick juices.

“I like it when you beg.”

He kisses at the juncture of your neck before letting his teeth graze over the spot and bites down—right as he pushes your face down to the workbench and slides his cock into your spread heat.

He bottoms out easily.  You’re soaking wet and he buries himself to the hilt in one fluid motion.  He groans out loud—stunned by the heat and wetness of your pussy and how tight it grips him.

“Oh, holy shit,” he gasps as he gives himself and you a moment.  His hands grip at your waist, one hand coming to rub the tender skin of your supple ass.

“Jimin, fuck, you’re so big,” you whine.  

He brings his hand up, then slaps it down on your ass hard, hard enough that the crack echoes around the large kitchen.  You cry out in delight, in pain, as the reverberation of the stinging wraps around you.

“Fuck, you take me so well, princess,” he whines as he sets a pace.  Your ass meets his hips and claps with each thrust, and he punctuates every few pumps into you with another hard slap to your ass.  He wants you screaming his name, crying out for him loud enough that the neighbors know who he is.

He’s relentless in his pumps—gripping your hips tight as he fucks you deep and senseless.  Your eyes roll back into your head at how well he works your body.  Your tits rub raw against the wood of the workbench and you’re weeping fat tears of pleasure as Jimin continues his plight.

“God, I’m gonna cum, baby,” he warns.  “Cum on my cock, princess.”

You slide a hand down to your clit, eager to add the ultimate piece to what makes you unravel.  He grins and pumps into you harder, slaps your ass repeatedly until he knows it’s going to leave bruises.

“That’s right, baby, rub that pretty little clit,” he urges.  “God, I can’t wait until you you sit on my face and let me eat this fucking cunt for hours.”

You blubber a response of desire, nearly begging him for more and more, as you swirl your fingers around the tight bundle.  You’re peaking towards the summit of your climax, ascending to a point you’ve never gone before.

“Fuck, Chim!” You scream. “Gonna cum!”

Your warning falls on deaf ears—you’re cumming and pulsating around his thickness instantly and Jimin moans mix with your own to create a symphony of pleasure.

“Good fucking girl,” he coos.  “Your cunt is so good to me, baby.  Mmph—let’s frost this cake, now.”

Instantly, he’s groaning as he pulls his cock free from the vice-grip of your cunt and jerks himself twice to completion, allowing his hot seed to splatter against the tender flesh of your ass where he’s left a clear print of his hand.   The warmth soothes the battered skin and you shake your ass teasingly as he continues to stroke himself through his climax.

“Ohhhhh, my god,” he breathes as he finally comes down from his high.

Your face is resting on the cool surface of the wooden workbench as your breathing slowly settles back to normal.

“That was fucking good,” you whisper with a smile.  Jimin bends down to press soft kisses to your spine, before grabbing a towel to gently clean his cum off your beaten ass.

“Willow’s going to kill you for fucking me in the kitchen,” he warns with a laugh as he kisses the same spot he came on.

“It takes two to bake a cake, buddy,” you tease.

He laughs and brings a hand down to your untouched asscheek, making you squeal with delight.

“That’s not how the saying goes, but sure, doll.”

The next morning, you’re hard at work making a five-tiered wedding cake with Willow at your side, when Jimin throws open the door.

“Good morning to the loves of my life!”

Willow chokes on her own air while you hide a giggle behind your cake covered hand.

Jimin approaches the pair of you while she splutters and gasps.

“What?”  What happened last night after I left?”

Your cheeks heat and Jimin wears a face of pure cockiness.

“Oh my god,” Willow gasps as her eyes open wide, snapping your tender ass with her rag.  “You did NOT fuck in my kitchen!”

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

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charmed [7]: ‘night changes’ (remus lupin x reader)

a/n: i got rejected from my top choice university program today so if im gonna be unhappy, might as well make u guys happy and release parts 5 and 7

brief summary: y/n and remus are both teachers at hogwarts and this is his first transformation where he is under wolfsbane. y/n remains in human form as he transforms. werewolf or not, all y/n ever feels is him.

series summary: set in the prisoner of azkaban, including its major plot points. remus and y/n get hired by dumbledore last minute to teach at hogwarts, defense against the dark arts and charms respectively. not wanting the students to know they are married, they navigate the challenging year through hidden glances, hand holds underneath the table and loving moments in their offices. even with all their efforts to conceal their relationship, their chemistry does not go unnoticed by the student population of hogwarts, who grow fond of the pair as they offer them some of the best classes they’ve had in a while. their relationship as newlyweds is strengthened as teaching the next generation of wizards unlocks a sea of memories of their love story. for the second time in his life, remus holds hogwarts responsible for some of his happiest memories. he’s given the chance to create them with the love of his life, y/n, who has taught and continues to teach him that every part of him is lovable, remaining forever under her charm.

series masterlist here

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7.

previously, in part 1:

“No, you don’t understand, it’s incredibly, extremely dangerous for a human to be around a were-“ Remus had tried to say, before Y/N had stood up and with a crack, disappeared. A single white dove hovered where she had stood, its wings flapping slowly to stay afloat.

“Y/N?”

With a crack, Y/N had appeared again.

“I didn’t know you were an Animagus.”

Y/N grinned. 

“What, you thought James, Sirius and Peter were the only ones to ever succeed at it?”

Remus still grimaced, shaking his head and looking down.

“It’s still too dangerous, I won’t risk it. I couldn’t possibly think of hurting you, I’m too dangerous-“

“Remus, stop it. You didn’t hurt Peter as a rat back in the day, you wouldn’t hurt a flinging bird either. Plus, I got a serious height advantage on you anyway.” Y/N raised her eyebrows at him teasingly, transforming back again into the dove and flying up to the ceiling. Lupin wasn’t convinced.

“Y/N, you shouldn’t-“

The dove reappeared as Y/N and kneeled between Lupin’s legs, taking his face into her hands carefully. 

“Please? Let me be there for you. Let me try-“

“I-“ Remus winced in his crippling self-doubt.

“I promise, if I ever feel unsafe, I’ll fly away. I promise.”

Remus nodded. “I love you.”

Y/N was taken aback, but surged forward to press her lips against his.

“I love you too.”

It was the first time they had said that to each other.

+

The first full moon of the Hogwarts term was now but a day away. As it drew nearer, Remus got paler and grew more irritable, as it always was. 

The students never noticed, as he remained their kind Professor Lupin to them. Remus valued the staff and Dumbledore in extremely high regard, so he mainly kept to himself to avoid conflict.

However, his short temper was not 100% appeasable. 

He was presently in his office, leg anxiously bouncing. He couldn’t help but jitter as restless energy coursed through him. The door opened, and he  jerked his head in its direction, to see Y/N walk in, slightly anxious as well.

“Hi, love.” She said, making her way to him.

“He’s late.” Remus muttered.

“It’s Albus Dumbledore, what do you expect- maybe he had a Wizarding War in Luxembourg to stop before this or something.” Y/N joked, dragging a chair beside her and taking Remus’ hand.

His leg stopped bouncing. 

+

1980.

Remus sat in an armchair in the House of Black’s library, attempting to distract himself before the night would come, a transformation night.

Loud voices reverberated across the walls, and he usually wouldn’t have minded, but the full moon made him more irritable.

“Will you guys stop yelling!” He called out across the hallway to the room where James, Sirius and a couple other Order members were talking over each other.

Sirius shared a look with James and they shrugged, making a motion with their hand asking the others to lower their voices.

“Hi, guys!” In came Y/N’s voice, as she walked through the door after a day of work, setting down her jacket. She joined the table for a few snacks, before inquiring, “Where’s Remus?”

“Ah, in the library.” James said mindlessly, shuffling the pack of cards they were playing with. He spotted Y/N head for that direction, and attempted to add, “But I wouldn’t disturb him if I were-“

But Y/N already walked in the library, wanting to see her boyfriend. She found him buried in a book, sitting slightly uncomfortably in his clothes, as if his body was having pre-transformation aches.

“Hi, love.” She said gently.

Remus peered up from his book and instantly smiled, uncrossing his legs and patting at his lap. Y/N took a seat on him, and he wrapped his arms around her comfortably.

“How was work?” He grumbled, mouth kissing up her arm and shoulder.

“Oh, just the usual.”

He listened to her talk about her day, hugging her as she sat in his lap.

James heard faint sounds of their light voices from the other room, and laughed. Sirius shook his head, both of them amused by their friend’s drastic change in demeanor.

“Little fucker.”

+

Dumbledore appeared in Remus’ office not long after Y/N joined, with a goblet of familiar-looking blue smoke.

“Remus, Y/N. I took the liberty of bringing you your last dose myself, Severus has already done so much. So, you wanted to talk about the logistics of your upcoming transformation.”

Remus nodded, leaning forward and taking the potion.

“This is your first time with Wolfsbane, so we cannot be sure on how it will affect you. However, I trust that it has been brewed properly, so it should do its function, which is to maintain your mental state when you transform.”

“So technically, he could just stay and hide here in his office and wait for the night to be over?” Y/N asked Dumbledore, thumb rubbing over Remus’ hand.

“Yes. If the potion has been brewed correctly, which I am sure it has, Remus should transform into nothing but a harmless wolf. Of course, because this is your first time, if you still wish to go outside and-“

“Yes.” Remus interjected, once he finished the last of the potion. “I wish to still use the Whomping Willow, just to avoid all potential risk.”

“Very well.” Dumbledore smiled, bowing his head. “I have complete trust in you, so you do as you please.”

“And I should… I won’t forget who I am, I won’t lose my mind?” Remus asked.

“No.” Dumbledore confirmed. “Your mental state will stay intact.”

“Then, I can technically be in human form with him.” Y/N gasped as the idea jumped into her head. She was immediately met with startled looks from both Dumbledore and Remus, Dumbledore merely intrigued and Remus looking downright terrified. “I mean, I could be with him. Me, a human.” She added hastily.

Glancing at Remus’ fervently opposed look, Dumbledore merely stood up.

“I will leave that between you two to discuss. Goodnight, and good luck.” He said. “Oh! And one more thing.”

His eyes twinkled. “I hear talk amongst the students since the start of term. About you two.”

Remus and Y/N looked at each other nervously.

“Something about spotting their Charms and Defence teachers always being present in each other’s offices…”

Y/N mouth dropped in shock, trying to figure out how students could even know where they spent their nights, before Dumbledore laughed heartily, shaking his head.

“I kid, I kid, I have heard nothing of the sort. All that has reached my ears are the raving comments about your classes and subjects. Keep up the good work, Professors.” Dumbledore chuckled, and vanished into the fireplace.

Y/N stared dumbfounded at the spot he disappeared, before letting out a laugh.

“I-“ She blinked. “He is so weird, and can you believe, I almost let slip that I’m an Animagus-“

She stopped once she looked at her husband, whose expression was grave.

“Wha-“

“You cannot stay in human form with me.” He shook his head.

Y/N stayed silent for a second. “Why not? If this potion works, and we know it will, your-“

“We can’t be too sure!” Remus sighed. “Werewolves, we hunt for humans. We look for victims to bite, to… to-“

“If the potion doesn’t work, then I’ll just transform into a dove, like always.”

Remus met her eyes in a worried gaze.

“I’ve been a bird countless of times on your transformations, you’re still gonna let me do that, are you?” Y/N raised her eyebrows. “You even said, werewolves look for humans, animal companions are harmless-“

“Which is exactly why you can’t be in human form, darling! The extreme danger that would put you in, you have no idea.”

“I have no idea?” Y/N pursed her lips, instinctively reaching out to her bicep, on which lay a tiny white scar.

Remus glanced at it too, with almost hatred and remorse in his eyes, as he sighed, hand tracing over it and kissing it.

+

“Maybe you should transform right now, my love.” Remus said anxiously as he, Y/N, James, Sirius and Peter walked through an abandoned part of the woods.

The sky was dark, and the clouds radiated a faint shimmer indicating the full moon would appear soon.

“I won’t transform until I absolutely need to.” Y/N said firmly, hand holding onto Remus’ tightly.

“She’ll follow our lead, Moony, don’t worry.” Sirius said.

Unintentionally, they stopped at a small hill, deeming the timing to be right.

“Y/N, it’s not too late, you could just Disapparate away, I-“ Remus said to Y/N.

“Remus. Stop. I’m not scared.” Y/N smiled at him, cupping his cheek. “You’re still you. And I love you, all parts of you. Nothing will change that, or you and me.”

Remus nodded, breathing quickly and pulled her in for a kiss, before the other Marauders beckoned Y/N to back away slightly as the moon started to peak.

The night changed in an instant.

The opal orb shone in the sky and in the moonlight, Y/N watched as Remus’ tall silhouette trembled, his body morphing into a werewolf.

Y/N was in awe. His body lengthened. His shoulders were hunching. Hair sprouted visibly from his head and neck and his hands curled into clawed paws. Straightening up, he howled to the sky, the sound echoing into the rest of the night.

Y/N’s mind went blank. The Marauders had transformed as she kept her eye on Remus. For a second, the werewolf’s eyes met hers, but before she could do anything, he lunged for her.

Adrenaline shot through her body as the werewolf made a swipe towards her, a big black dog jumping in between them just in time for Remus’ sharp claw to slightly graze her shoulder before she transformed with a crack, into a dove and flew up, batting her wings.

+

“I’ll never be able to forgive myself for that.” Remus whispered painfully, finger tracing over the small permanent scratch near Y/N’s shoulder.

“But I’m fine.” Y/N pursed her lips, eyes looking into Remus’ face imploringly. “Because I knew that it wasn’t you. And after the night ended, you cared for me so tenderly and lovingly. Gently. Because that is the real you.”

+

Remus soaked a warm towel for the millionth time as he sat Y/N on the toilet next to the sink to tend the small scratch she had acquired from him.

“Rem, it’s okay, do you realize that I’ve broken literal bones before! This is nothing.” Y/N said, letting him clean the patch of skin before taking both of his hands in hers. He kneeled in between her legs.

“I could never forgive myself for this, I’m so sorry-“

“Please. In the best way possible, shut up.” Y/N smiled, eyes welling up at the unnecessary look of remorse plaguing Remus’ face. “That wasn’t you. And nothing that I saw or felt last night changes who you are to me now.”

“You don’t…see me as a monster? You don’t even feel a tiny bit scared being with me right now?” Remus teared up.

Y/N smiled, eyes crinkling and letting tears fall down her cheeks. “I just feel you.”

+

Y/N woke up from her nap the night of the full moon to find Remus’ side of the bed empty. Eventually, she had gotten Remus to agree to let her accompany him as she always did, but in human form this time.

Getting up, she spotted Remus already at the door. She crossed her arms.

“Are you running away?” Y/N frowned, her husband jumping at getting caught.

“No, I-I figured I’d head out earlier.”

Y/N walked towards him, squeezing his shoulders.

“We talked about this. It’ll be okay.” Y/N reassured him. She saw the fear still in his eyes but he nodded, blinking some away and reaching to get Y/N’s coat for her.

They walked in the chilly night air, making their way to the Forest. Although this felt completely new, they had never done this at Hogwarts and they were expecting new results tonight, there was also a sense of déjà-vu present in the air.

Y/N had been helping Remus with every one of his transformations during their entire marriage and before, ever since she was 18. It’s been almost 13 years that they were in this together.

We're only gettin' older, baby

And I've been thinkin' about it lately

“Thank you for being here.” Remus said, squeezing her hand. “And I don’t just mean tonight.”

Y/N squeezed it back tightly, beaming at him. The moon was close to being fully out, and they stopped on a small hill overlooking Hagrid’s Hut where it would appear in full view.

Does it ever drive you crazy

Just how fast the night changes?

“Remember, if I make any sudden moves, you transform on the spot, okay?” Remus looked down at her, eyes full of conviction. Y/N nodded.

They both stood there, waiting, anticipation through the roof. They felt nauseous, from nervousness. The clouds began to fade, and more moonlight shined onto them. Slowly, they let go of each other’s hands and took a couple steps back from each other.

Everything that you've ever dreamed of

Disappearing when you wake up

The first beam of light hit Remus as the full moon emerged.

But there's nothing to be afraid of

Even when the night changes

His neck began elongating, thick hair growing from his head and covering his back. His shoulders hunched as he grew taller, breaking through the material of his clothes. 

It will never change, baby

Y/N watched from a short distance as Remus morphed into a towering creature. Her incantation was ready in her head, just in case she had to transform into the dove.

It will never change, baby

Slowly, the full-fledge werewolf straightened up from its hunched over position. His eyes met Y/N’s and her body tensed, remembering. Instead of lunging at her, he sat down, his human-like eyes expressing gentleness. Y/N took a tiny step towards him.

“Remus?” She said, voice trembling.

The werewolf nodded.

Taking steps closer, she shakily got down onto her knees to join him on the ground. She lifted a hand, tentatively, and inch by inch, approached it to cup his cheek. At the contact, they both breathed out in relief.

“I just feel you.” Y/N smiled, tears flowing from her eyes.

It will never change me and you.

to be continued

a/n: as always i’d love to hear what u thought or what ud like to see of the series:)

tags @bicyhot1  @pink-hufflepuff  @legitlaughingflamingo @brod16  @gerardonmyway  @blueleonor  @suranne-doesstuff  @rxmusblxck  @spxllcxstxr  @littleemo477  @just12randomfandoms  @svnkissdd  @norrreee  @m4r13l3y  @jess6578  @rorysreallyrandom  @the-nightingale-not-the-lark  @archeve19  @wolfstarslovechild  @pan-pride-12  @x4kai4x  @chrrybmb-mp3  @reggieluna  @happyslittlekitten  @missemilygilmore  @all-things-fictional @strangefirething  @abitofeverythinggg  @yeahshewayout  @imfreeeeeee123  @harold-pothead  @lunnybunny12  @ellieblack11  @tugabooos  @joyfulbiscuit  @justonemorechapter07 @wonderwoman292  @skateb0red  @secretsthathauntus  @siriusblackswhoree  @sabonbonn  @untraveled-road  @annabeljareau  @valiantobservationkitty @diffbeanofbrand  @theeicedamericano​  @spencerreidlove  @flannellover67  @wishiwasdeadric  @becks7401​  @katsav17  @emmy-kitty13  @purritoqueen  @girl22334  @monicafebyana​  @talsiaa​  @sierrax023​  @axva03  @uhh-dk  @nataliahgrace​  

[4stars-uswnt]

My Muse, My Valentine [Christen Press x Reader]

requested by anon: Not sure if you’re accepting any request but can you write a cp x photographer gf where her gf surprised her at man u, like her gf secretly transfer there to be with cp. Thanks

A/N: please ignore some of the inconsistencies this story has with reality :) but anyways... hope you enjoy and have a happy Valentine’s Day (tomorrow) and remember it’s a day about LOVE, whether that be romantic, platonic, familial, or self ❤️

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whine, as you watch your girlfriend pack her suitcase.

“I know, babe. I’m gonna miss you too, so much.” Christen leans down to quickly peck your lips, before continuing to fold her clothes.

You and Christen had been dating for almost three years now, having met after you’d photographed one of the USWNT’s matches. You instantly felt an attraction to the curly-haired forward, your camera always drifting towards her wherever she was on the pitch.

After you’d posted a couple of your photos on your Instagram, which Christen made a point to like and repost, you gathered up the courage to approach her after a game, and thus began your relationship.

With yours and Christen’s busy schedules, it was sometimes hard to find time for each other, but you made it work, sharing an apartment in Portland during the offseason and flying out for matches when you could. But being a sports photographer did have its benefits, as your work often led you to spending more time with your girlfriend and admiring her speed down the field and score goals.

But now, with the pandemic, as the NWSL was struggling to field games,  you found yourself with little work. Christen herself was not quite satisfied with the league’s plan for the season, so when Tobin proposed the idea of going to the WSL, she desperately wanted to, yearning to get back on the pitch.

At first, when Christen approached you with the subject, you immediately opposed, not wanting to be so far from your girlfriend for such a long amount of time. Additionally, with COVID, it would be nearly, if not completely, impossible for you to visit. But after a blowout fight and discussing it further, you realized that this is what would be best for Christen and her career.

“Do you have to go?” You pout, sitting up and moving to the end of the bed.

“You know I do, (Y/N/N).” Christen playfully rolls her eyes.

“Humph.”

“Babe, come on, don’t make me feel worse about leaving you.”

“Then don’t,” you quip, grabbing your girlfriend by the waist, pulling her down on the bed with you.

“Babe!” Christen squeals, as you blow raspberries into her skin.

You lift your head from the crook of her neck, your eyes locking with hers. “I know that you have to go,” you admit seriously. “Doesn’t mean I like it, but I know that this is what’s best for your career.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” she says earnestly, giving you a small smile. “We’ll text and FaceTime everyday.”

“I’m holding you to that.” You cup her face and bring her in for a kiss, savoring the feeling of her soft lips on yours. “I also know that you’re gonna kill it over there in Manchester. The WSL isn’t gonna know what hit them.”

Christen ducks her bashfully, a small blush arising on her cheeks. “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course, Chris. I love you, too.”

“Good.” She gives you a quick peck, as she gets up from the bed. “Now, either quit bothering me or help me. My flight is early tomorrow morning, and I haven’t even finished packing.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

—————

It had been a little over five months since you’d dropped Christen off at the airport and she left for Manchester. Despite the constant texting and the nightly FaceTime calls, you couldn’t help but ache for your girlfriend. Without her, the apartment was lonelier and the bed felt bigger.

It had helped that your work had started back up, first with some freelance work and then with the NWSL fall series starting, which gave you something to do and kept you fairly busy.

Currently, you were sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping on a cup of coffee, as you edited some photos for the Thorns. Just as you were saving your work and closing Lightroom, about to shut your computer, a ping alerts a new email in your inbox.

Switching tabs, you notice the message is from an unfamiliar address, so you presume it’s a new client. You click and open it, your eyes widening, as you scan the email:

Ms. (Y/L/N),

I noticed your professional portfolio through many referrals, particularly your work form the World Cup. I am writing on behalf of the BBC News Media Centre, and we’re looking for an excellent sports photographer to join the team, specifically to cover the FA Women’s Super League and the Premier League.

Your experience is outstanding, adn your work speaks for itself. I think you’d be a great fit for this role, and I’d love to tell you more about it and hear more from you.

Would you like to set up a phone or Zoom call soon? If so, let me know when you’re available.

Best,

Charles Smith

Director of Media Relations at BBC Sport

You quickly reread the email, and then reread it again, just to make sure you’re not dreaming. This was too good to be true. But you shake yourself out of your stupor and quickly type out a response to set up a phone call as soon as possible.

After hitting send, you shut your computer with excitement and throw your hands up in the air.

“Yes!” You exclaim into the empty apartment, as you throw your fist in the air and jump off the barstool.

Knowing you needed to distract yourself, otherwise you’d just be staring at your computer, eagerly awaiting the response, you decided to go on a run.

Jogging through the city, you think of your girlfriend and your potential reunion if this job offer worked out. You decided that if you did in fact take this position, you’d surprise Christen at one of her matches, hopefully one that you’d be able to photograph.

As soon as you arrive back in your apartment, you make a beeline for your laptop. You anxiously open your inbox and beam when you see Charles had replied to set up a Zoom call at 9:30 tomorrow morning. You excitedly type out pleasantries, telling him you’re looking forward to it.

For the rest of the afternoon, you were in an increasingly good mood. So later that evening, when Christen called you for your routine FaceTime, she could tell something was up.

“Why do you keep smiling like that?”

“Can I not be happy to talk to my girlfriend?” You tease, a huge grin plastered onto your face.

“You can,” Christen trails off, not quite believing you. “But you have the weird giddy look you get when something’s up?”

“Nothing’s up. Just had a good day,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“Okay,” the forward accepts, still eyeing you suspiciously. “Anyways, you know She Believes is in a couple weeks, are you working the tournament?”

“Yup,” you nod and make a mental note to mention that to Charles tomorrow.

The two of you continue updating each other, chatting about topics ranging from what you had for breakfast that day to re-inc’s upcoming drop.

“Alright,” Christen yawns. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

You check your phone and see it’s 5:37 pm, meaning it’s almost midnight in Manchester.

“Okay,” your eyes softening at the sight of your sleepy girlfriend. “Good night, Chris. I love you.”

“Love you, too, babe. G’night.”

After ending the call and shutting your laptop, you head into the kitchen to make some dinner for yourself, getting on with your evening.

—————

The next morning, you anxiously await for Charles to begin the Zoom call, nervously bouncing your knee and biting your lip.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Charles greets, his face appearing on your screen.

“Good morning. Or rather good afternoon?” You correct with a light chuckle, to which he reciprocates.

“Well, as you know from my email, we are looking for a photographer to join our team, and from many referrals, you seem to be a very good candidate,

“So, I was thinking maybe we could look at your portfolio really quickly and then hash out the logistics to see if this is something that could work out.”

“Sounds good,” you agree, as you pull up some of your best pictures and share your screen.

The two of you look through your photos, many from the 2019 World Cup, some of the Olympics, and a few from random NWSL games.

“Well, (Y/N), your work is quite impressive. If you’re ready, and you’re seriously interested in this position, we can talk specifics, scheduling, all that good stuff,” Charles offers.

“I’m definitely interested, but can I just preface by saying that my girlfriend is a major part of this decision, so depending on what she wants to do at the end of the season will impact my contract.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows, clearly not expecting your candor. “Your girlfriend plays in the WSL?”

“Yeah, well, technically only for this season. Her contract is up in May,” you explain.  

“(Y/N), to be completely frank, we’re looking to hire because a couple of our photographers had some personal issues due to COVID and had to leave mid-season,” Charles reveals. “So if it turns out that your girlfriend wants to go back to the NWSL, then we can work that out. And if she wants to stay, and you end up liking it here and you fit in well, we can also work that out. We’re pretty flexible.”

You sigh in relief, giving him a small smile. “Wow, thank you so much. So what would my contract look like?”

“Well, we can sign you to three month contract with the option for extension,” he offers, as you nod along enthusiastically.

“That sounds great,” you exclaim, beaming. “And just to let you know, I’ve already signed on to work the She Believes tournament from the 18th to the 21st.”

“That actually aligns with the WSL’s international break, and there are a couple Premier League matches that weekend, but I think we can manage, so that shouldn’t be an issue.”

“You guys are too kind and so flexible. I really appreciate it so much,” you say earnestly.

“It’s really just us being desperate for a good photographer,” Charles jokes.

“Either way, I’m grateful for this opportunity.”

“We’re excited for you to join our team,” he reciprocates. “So, in terms of when you’ll begin, I honestly would like you to come over as soon as possible so that you can get settled and get acclimated.”

“I am honestly ready to start whenever you’ll have me.”

“How about next week? The Manchester Derby is on Friday, and honestly, given your portfolio, I’d love you to photograph that match,” the British man admits.

“That’s perfect!” You were in complete awe of how perfectly everything was working out. Photographing a Man United match as your first job meant you could surprise Christen, maybe as an early Valentine’s gift.

“Great,” Charles smiles.

The two of you discuss and finalize your contract and the logistics of you starting the job. Once everything’s settled and you each have the information you need, you wrap up the call.

“Well, thank you so much, Charles, for this offer, and I can’t wait to see you next Tuesday.”

“I can’t wait to work with you and meet you. See you next week. Cheers.”

After ending the Zoom call, you begin to make a COVID test appointment, book your flight, and arrange your hotel room for the few days that Christen doesn’t know you’re there, preparing yourself for moving across the world.

—————

After landing in London, getting settled into your hotel, and meeting with the BBC team and the other photographers, you were now on your way to the Manchester Derby.

In the back of the black cab, you pull out your phone to text a good luck text to Christen.

It was difficult to keep your surprise a secret, especially when you were actually in England, because it was much more difficult to FaceTime without her noticing your change in setting. You had to make up the excuse that you were swarmed with editing and preparing for the upcoming Thorns trainings.

As you pull up to the Academy Stadium, you hear your phone ding.

Chris ❤️

Thanks babe. Miss and love you 😘

You quickly type out a response, before heading into the building.

(Y/N/N) 💗

Love you too. I miss u too but go kick butt.

The match was exhilarating. Not only were you a sports photographer, but you were also a huge fan of the game, enjoying a good game when you see one.

You watched in awe, the level and style of play significantly different from than NWSL. While snapping hundreds of photos of both teams, your camera would always somehow land back on your girlfriend.

Your heart ached for the curly-haired forward, as you missed her dearly. Until you saw her back on the pitch, you hadn’t really realized that you missed watching her play the game that she’d mastered, her movements around the pitch and on the ball effortless and elegant.

As the ref blew the whistle, signaling the end of the half, you scroll through some of the photos you’d taken, deleting some of the blurry and unfocussed ones.

A smile immediately forms on your face when you see a picture of Christen during warmups with a huge grin on her face. You spend all of halftime editing said photo and putting together an Instagram post for your girlfriend.

About fifteen minutes later, the teams take the pitch and you go back to doing your job. Throughout the second half, you could tell that Christen was getting increasingly frustrated, her team getting down 3-0 with only about five minutes left.

You watch as the players high five and hug each other, and you want nothing more than to run onto the field to be with your girlfriend, but you had a plan to stick to.

As the team goes back into the locker room, you pull out your phone to post a photo on Instagram and then you shoot a quick text to Tobin:

(Y/N)🤓:

toby go check out my ig post :))

Back in the Man United locker room, after Casey went through her post match speech, Tobin checks her phone and sees a text from you. The injured forward playfully rolls her eyes at your message but follows your directions.

Upon opening the social media app, Tobin raises her eyebrows, her eyes widening. She glances across the room to see if her best friend had seen your post, but Christen was minding her own business, changing into sweats after her shower.

“Chris!” The older forward calls over to the other woman. “Have you seen your girlfriend’s Instagram post?”

Christen furrows her brows in confusion. “What? No, what is it?”

Tobin waves her friend over and shows her the post:

Liked by mrapinoe, ashlynharris24, and 638,231 others

yourusername: My muse, my valentine.

“As I sat and looked at her

and the rolling hills she sat upon

I thought,

what amazing luck I have

that the world had created

such beautiful things

and given me the eyes to see them.”

- atticus

tagged: christenpress

- - - - -

mrapinoe: Stunning pictures, (Y/N). Love you guys 💖

alikrieger: These photos are 🔥🔥🔥🔥

alexmorgan13: love this 😍😍

cdunn19: Beautiful!

glennondoyle: Love love love love this!!

ashlynharris24: Holy shit! Are you in Manchester????

↳lavellerose: Was this today??

↳sammymewyy: Oh my gosh it was!

↳kellyohara: Valentine’s Day surprise for Pressy?? 👀

Christen zooms in on the photo in the center, her eyes widening when she realizes that it is from today’s match.

“How did she get that picture?”

Tobin mentally slaps her forehead at her friend’s denseness. “Knowing (Y/N), she probably took it.”

“But that’s impossible. She’s in the States,” Christen states and shakes her head, dumbfounded.

“Actually,” you speak up, stepping into the locker room, deciding to make your presence known. “I’m right here.”

“(Y/N)?” Your girlfriend looks up at you, her mind in a state of shock.

“Hey, love,” you greet shyly.

Once her mind caught up with reality, Christen runs and jumps into your body, kissing you passionately but briefly and wrapping you into a bone crushing hug.

“I can’t believe your here,” she whispers into your neck. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, babe, so much.”

Unwrapping herself from the hug, Christen stares at you in awe. “What… how are you here?”

“We can talk about that later,” you give her another quick kiss. “But right now, I just wanna spend time with you. Maybe we can grab some dinner? You can show me around Manchester, considering I’m gonna be spending a lot of time here.”

Your girlfriend looks at you puzzled, but you just give her a wink with a small smirk on your face.

“Well, c’mon lets get out of here.”

—————

Back at Christen’s apartment, the two of you sit down for a nice and casual, but romantic, dinner you’d prepared along with a bottle of red wine.

After catching up, the forward finally decides to address the elephant in the room. “So how are you here? What’s going on, (Y/N/N)? You said earlier that you’d be spending a lot of time in Manchester, what does that mean? I’m so confused. Not that I’m grateful that you’re here right now and that I get to see you, but I thought you were working She Believes, and—“

“Chris,” you cut off your girlfriend’s endearing rambling. “Babe, you’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” she blushes, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“I got a job with BBC Sport till the end of the season,” you answer her parade of questions.

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

You nod, while taking a sip of your water. “It means I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

Not having the adequate words to express her joy and excitement, Christen gets up from her chair, walks over to sit in your lap, and connects you lips for a searing kiss.

“I can’t believe you,” she breathes, rubbing her nose against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you quickly peck her lips while rubbing circles on her hip. “But as much as I love you and all this romance, we gotta get going soon.”

Your girlfriend tilts her head in confusion.

“Do the words ‘She Believes’ ring a bell?” You tease. “If I remember correctly, our flight leaves in a couple hours.”

“You’re coming with me?” Christen asks, her brain trying to wrap around the fact that her girlfriend, who she hadn’t seen in almost five months, would now be living with her in England and flying back to the States with her for the next week.

“Of course, Chris,” you give her a cheeky smile, along with a kiss to her nose, as you quote a book Becky had convinced the whole team to read. “You should know by now that I’d follow you anywhere. You’re the only good thing left in this world.”

[citydreamgrls]

they were roommates - part one

a weasley twins x fem!reader fic 

summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen. 

an: i would just like to point out that this isn’t a fic with a polyamorous relationship, sorry if that was what some people wanted, instead i wanted to keep which twin is the love interest a secret until the end. if u guys want to guess after reading this first part, feel free to do so, i would love to hear your guys’ reasons too !!  secondly, i would like to say a huge huge thank you to everyone for getting me to 600 followers, that’s absolutely mad like i’m blown away beyond compare, i love u all millions and billions i really am so grateful so thank you . hope you enjoy this first part, as always, <33

words: 5,790

warnings: swearing?

None of the nights seemed to turn into excitement, but this particular Tuesday evening in the Leaky Cauldron was passing slower than the rest had done. The paintings on the walls cast their weary eyes over the few lonely drinkers scattered across the dim room as even they contemplated calling it an early night. Y/n flicked through an old magazine and wondered if this place had ever seen much action, or whether the inn had become somewhere that paintings came to rest alongside grumpy travellers.

The girl hadn’t worked behind the bar long, only a handful of months now. But since then not a single bar fight had broken out, no one ordered anything out of the ordinary, and she struggled to remember seeing a single nice man pass through the doors. Besides the Weasley twins of course, who were running late for their weekly drink.

“Slow night?” Hannah came up behind her, carrying a stack of clean glasses and placing them under the counter. The girl swiped away her magazine and nodded, doing her best to hide the guilty blush that grew on her cheeks whenever she lied. It had always been a curse.

“I can do that if you want,” She offered, taking over and letting her boss stand up straight again. There was a strange air of awkwardness between the pair, despite the fact that they had grown close since she had started working as a barmaid.

“It’s been like this a lot lately, just… empty.” Hannah huffed, pulling up two stools and letting the younger girl sit beside her for a while.

“Yeah, makes the time pass a lot slower.”

“Neville’s getting worried,” The woman chewed her lip, gazing around at the lack of people. “He thinks it won’t be long before we need to do something drastic.”

“Should I be worried?” Y/n asked, knowing everything rode on this flimsy job.

Just as the girl posed her question the two front doors burst open, revealing the Weasley twins along with two others that she recognised from their past visits.

“I’ll talk to you later darling,” The boss stood, squeezing her shoulder and going to greet the regulars who she knew so well.

As Neville appeared from the back office to do the same she was called over to the far table by a man who she’d already brought too many drinks to. With a sigh, she obeyed his whines, and went over to see what he wanted.

“About time sweet cheeksh,” He slurred, his head propped up by a weary arm while the other gestured wildly as he spoke. “Another round darling-” She nodded, taking his money from the table and turning to leave, but he reached out for her hand.

She shivered beneath his touch, the stench of bile and alcohol filling her nose as she tried not to vomit on the spot. It was best to just ride out whatever he wanted, knowing better than to anger any kind of customer.

“Why don’t you join me when you get those drinks sorted- I haven’t got another chair but I’m sure my lap would do nicely.” He grinned, showing off the layer of yellow on his teeth.

Y/n gulped back her grunt and pretended to smile, sighing with relief when he let go of her and slumped against the wall beside him. The feeling of his hand lingered on her until she managed to distract her mind a little, smiling wider when the twins came up to the bar to order.

“Evening boys,” She sniffed back the nerves and greeted them with a polite welcome. “Not giving you trouble was he?” One of them asked, nodding over to the drunken mess.

“Nothing I can’t handle,”

“Well you let us know if not,” The other chimed, their charms always making her feel comfortable around them. Which was much more than could be said for most of the creeps who roamed the inn each night.

“That’s very good of you both, thank you-” Her smile never faltered, they always had noticed that, “What can I get for you then?”

“Two hog’s heads, one rum and I’ll have…”

“Come on Fred,” The other nudged his brother, the girl finally able to differentiate them, that was until the next day when she wouldn’t be able to recognise the clothes they chose.

“Firewhiskey would be great thanks y/n,” He smiled sweetly, leaning up against the bar as she rang up their orders on the till. He delved into the pockets of his trousers as George left to speak to Neville a bit longer, placing the money in her hand. “Keep the change too,” “A-are you sure?” She stuttered, looking down at the remaining 3 galleons in her hand.

“George never tips, so consider it his debt too.” The boy scoffed, leaving to join the rest of his group. The girl pocketed the money before anyone else could see her doing so and went to fix the drunken man his seventh drink of the night.

He grumbled about how much work he did that no one appreciated, as his eyes raked over her body in a queasily slow trance. The man didn’t stop at that, further pressing her to sit on his knee and let him feel her up. Crude remarks fell from his lips as if he’d relayed them to every woman he’d come across, as if it was second nature. All the while, she stood and let him ramble on, doing her best to ignore what he was saying and just nod along mindlessly. This wasn’t even the worst one, the girl sighed to herself, grimacing at the way his fingers toyed with the hems of her skirt as if he was going to try and slither inside it.

With perfect timing, Neville called her back to the bar, faking some questions about the menu so that she had an excuse to dismiss herself from the dog’s company and scurry off. She heard him call after her, but couldn’t make out what exactly it was he was saying. The girl prayed that he was too drunk to actually get up and walk over to the bar, or else he would become truly relentless.

-

No matter what, y/n always smiled, regardless of who was talking to her or at her. And when she wasn’t dealing with the unruly men of diagon alley, she was happy, she was lucky that she had a job and somewhere to stay. She had no reason to be unhappy.

Fred and George liked that about her. That in such a dimly lit, run down little place like the cauldron, such light could shine through with her presence. Both of them had mentioned it once on their drunken walk back home one night, that they wished they could afford to hire someone else at the shop because she would be perfect for it.

Y/n always smiled because most of the time she was a happy person, until there was no reason to be happy. She discovered that dreadful sinking feeling later that night once the pub closed and the girl was finishing up with her cleaning.

Neville and Hannah were speaking in hushed voices nearby, words that she couldn’t make out over the sound of her brush swishing over the stone ground. But they continued to glance over at her when they believed she wasn’t watching, which made her heart tighten with nervous anticipation.

“Y/n… darling.” Hannah’s sweet voice sounded through the empty room, startling her slightly. The girl stood up straight and smiled, a sight which made her boss want to cry on the spot. None of this was going to be easy. “Could you come into the office with me, please.”

She followed, her hands shaky as she left the broom leant up against a lone table. The door shut behind them with a finalising jolt as the woman sat down before her, prompting her own body to do the same.

The air became thick, and constricting as her knees locked together politely. Hannah seemed just as nervous as she, delaying the inevitable by shuffling paperwork around and shoving into nearby drawers. Finally the movement ceased and she had no choice but to bite the bullet.

“I know we already spoke today, about how the business is going here, and I promise that Neville and I have tried to do everything we can to get around this. But I’m afraid we’ve been left with no other choice y/n.”

The sound of her name felt like a stab, one short sound that cut through her skin and deep into the bone. The girl dwelled on that feeling, hoping that whatever followed would hurt less in contrast. It didn’t.

“We have to let you go y/n,” The knife plunged deeper, somehow splitting open all her organs on its way through her body. She froze, knowing that in this moment her world was falling apart all around her like dominoes.

“A-and the room? I’m supposing you need it?” Her voice was wavering, constantly on the edge as she confirmed all the priorities.

“I’m so sorry,” The gesture was appreciated, but it did nothing to help in the moment as the now homeless girl’s mind raced.

“Thank you anyway, for the past few months.” It was a sudden bravery that brought her to her feet as she announced how she would pack her things right away.

In truth, she needed to be alone, just for a few minutes. So she could let it all go, cast a muffliato and sob away her worries for a small amount of precious time. Hannah didn’t dare follow her, knowing nothing could fix it for the younger girl, instead she brought the bottle of gin from the bar into the office and took long, thoughtful sips until it was no longer the only thing playing through her mind.

-

When the girl gathered her things and apparated down to the front door with them, Neville was there with a sad smile upon his face. Only giving her a brief goodbye, before swiftly leaving to busy himself with yet another maintenance job around the building. He never was one for complex emotions, so she didn’t think bad of him for escaping an awkward situation.

Y/n opened the front doors, seeing the pouring rain before her and almost bursting into yet another round of tears. Not that her red raw eyes could take it much longer. Maybe it was because she had been standing up for the good part of eight hours, or maybe just the pitiful sight of the gloomy street before her was enough to make her knees shake. As if they were going to buckle beneath her and send her crumpling to the ground.

But she shuffled forward, her trunk following behind her and she had quietly charmed it to do so. Admittedly she didn’t have a lot, when she had decided to try and live alone it had become a rushed affair to say the least. So she only owned a number of outfits within that case, along with some books and other little items she had deemed important enough to bring alone. That, and her guitar case, which loomed over her shoulder like a stalking figure in the night. The one thing she definitely didn’t have, was a coat to shelter her from the oncoming rain.

The girl walked a few steps, round the side of the building, and found a pile of crates to rest on beneath a small dripping canopy. It was dry, for now, and it gave her a chance to think properly. She needed to figure something out fast.

But y/n’s mind was full of white noise, watching puddles form between the cobbled pathway before her and thinking how she used to love the rain as a child. It had been relaxing and beautiful from the safety of her childhood bedroom, the window facing her parent’s courtyard as she watched them leave for work each morning.

Back then they would both turn and wave, with a generous smile on their faces, always reminding the young girl how they wished to see her when they returned. They were always happy when she was a child, the three of them a cacophony of laughs and giggles. Until it stopped. Her parents worked together, but never left the house together, and neither of them stopped to wave her goodbye, no matter how many times she waited for them to do so. They just stopped being happy, and as y/n shifted her weight upon the damp crates she realised that maybe her once beloved parents were never happy at all.

They became distant. To one another and to her, even more so as she grew older and became her own person. They tried to oppress it, probably seeing her joyful exterior and constant smiles and not recognising where it had come from. Not either of them. It angered them further, seeing her be such a resilient person, because they wished for her to feel the same neverending hurt they had caused one another. Regardless of the fact that it wasn’t her emotion to own.

Y/n remembered the night she was handed a file by her father, feeling stunned to have been called into his study while he was working. Often he would go inside and not appear for days at a time, so she knew whatever it was, it had to be important.

She read over the words he’d laid out for her, detailing their plans for her, what they wanted for her future. It was a plan of her life, given to her by two people who couldn’t be bigger strangers. But it wasn’t hers, it felt nothing like hers. She wanted to be someone, and she wanted to do it for herself, not because her parents feel it’s financially best.

The words, writer… and prophet echoed constantly around the page as she tried to make sense of it all. Her father barely looked up from his work as she struggled to remain calm, her lungs losing all motor function as she felt her stomach twist and turn. That was when she realised she had to leave, do something for herself.

Rain had been such a comforting thing for y/n, when she was a child. Now it covered her like a plague, and drenched her down to the bone as she did all she could to forget about that life. It had been her home, her playground, her school. It had been her whole life, without much chance to be free in the rest of the world.

Now it was nothing. She wanted it to be nothing. There had to be something she could do, there had to be somewhere she could go. Because that place was no longer an option.

“Y/n?” A voice made her head whip up, the tears on her cheeks easily disguised as the rain if it wasn’t for the way she snivelled to herself. She hadn’t even felt herself begin to cry, yet here she was, and it was a pitiful sight to see.

The light was bad in the alley, but when the two tall figures got nearer she recognised them instantly. Her heart broke a little more to see the worry in the twins’ eyes as they quickly took in the sight of her cramped body amongst her belongings.

“Are you leaving town then?” She thinks it was George, asked, he had been the one wearing a black shirt when she’d seen them earlier. The girl was in a daze, her head taking in their words a lot slower than it should have been as she begged herself not to cry in front of them.

To them, she looked like she was in a dream. Her eyes glazed over even as she glanced their way, making it look like she wasn’t really there with them. George’s question caught her off guard a bit, the girl looking as though she had forgotten where she was as she looked around her with bewilderment. Then the look of confusion fell to one of despair when it clicked once again, she was all alone.

“I suppose I am.” Even the two men could hear how her voice begged to break as she spoke with an airy tone. This was the first time they had seen her anything but bright and smiley.

It broke their hearts, in all honesty.

“Do you need somewhere to stay the night?” Fred, this time, asked. He knelt down to meet her eye level, their tall forms always towering above her at the best of times.

“We have a particularly comfy couch at our place,” George added, following suit with the kneeling.

“It’s got five star reviews,”

“And probably a few galleons hidden down the back if you’re lucky.”

Their smiles made her giggle, and it was all they could have asked for in the moment.

“That’s very kind of you,” Her sweet tone was back, like she’d taken control of her head again, “But I couldn’t ask that of you two.” It was her default to be polite, not wanting to be a burden to anyone. It was the one thing her nanny had taught her before being let go when she was twelve, not to ask anything of anyone but yourself.

“Nonsense,” Fred stood up, taking her guitar case that was leant up against the brick wall and swinging it over his shoulder.

“Really, I’ll figure something o-out - it’s fine!” She tried to protest, but the twins had already decided her fate. George lifted her trunk with ease, and Fred held out a hand for her, prompting the girl to clumsily lift herself off the jumble of crates with his assistance.

“Come on then,” They said, starting off towards the brighter part of diagon alley.

She didn’t move, Fred having let go of her as soon as she steddied herself again. They looked back at her, both frowning with the same face as she tried not to laugh at how they were so similar they even acted like one another.

“Well you better come with us-” “Or else it’ll look like we’ve robbed you!”

The girl just looked down at her feet, feeling as though they were only doing this because they couldn’t leave her out in the rain. Which was true. But the twins knew that she was someone worth helping out.

“Do you have anywhere else to go?” George asked, shifting the case into his other hand nonchalantly as they waited for her to come along with them. Silently she shook her head, embarrassed to meet their eyes as she admitted defeat.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Fred chimed in, still wearing their signature smile.

Y/n couldn’t help but return the sentiment, she didn’t have to be alone for at least one night. That was something to smile about, so she smiled. Her feet surged her body forward, a small skip noticeable as she reached the two patient men.

“We do look like we’ve just mugged you.” George laughed as they all walked through the alley and towards their shop, her little life packed away and in their hands. The girl slotted between them, having to catch up with their longer strides every now and then, as both twins chatted away as if nothing was amiss.

-

“Here’s the palace itself,” “Our pride and joy!” They announced, ushering her into the shop lined with all the products an excited teenage wizard could wish for. The shelves seemed to be full to the brim, some things piled up as a display. As haphazard and chaotic as it looked, y/n couldn’t deny that the bright colours shimmering off everything she could see instilled a happiness inside her that she rarely felt as a child. This would have been her dream when she was younger.

The twins’ shop was well known in the alley, by almost everyone who visited the leaky cauldron. Yet she had never dared step inside it herself. Most days she would have been busy with jobs around the inn, and on the off chance that she ventured around any other establishments, it was purely for essentials.

The two men watched as she scanned all that she could see from the doorway, her eyes wide and inviting with each new discovery. They would see kids come in every single day with the same reaction, yet with her it seemed new. It was if she had never seen a toy before.

“Have you eaten yet?” Fred asked, weaving through some unopened boxes to reach the stairs. Even on them there was an endless supply of treats to be found.

“I’m not hungry… thank you.” She followed behind him, slowly, with George closing up the front doors and setting up security wards.

“That wasn’t the question silly,” He laughed, catching up. “Have you eaten tonight?”

“No- but I’m really fine without.”

Once they reached the very top of the long set of stairs, past the ‘staff only’ sign, a door was kicked open in front of her. The apartment inside was a sight for sore eyes, and also the furthest thing from what y/n had envisioned on the walk there.

From how high they had gotten inside the shop, the girl presumed that the flat above had to be pokey and a lot smaller than what she was seeing. It was like a large loft, with brick walls and two levels and these huge windows that looked well over diagon alley. She could see all the lights of muggle London shining amongst the dark sheeted sky.

“My rooms up there, and George is through there.” Fred explained, nodding towards the opening to a small hallway and setting down her things in the excess of open space they had. It was comfortable.

“And here’s your bed!” The other twin exclaimed, throwing himself onto the huge sofa that stretched beneath one of the windows and came out into the room in an L shape. They weren’t lying when they said it was comfortable, because she could tell it was even by looking at it.  

“Right! I, for one, am starving.” Fred announced, walking through to the open kitchen, his footsteps echoing on the floor as he went. “What about you y/n?”

The girl was too busy staring out the window to hear him. She’d never seen the city this way before. Her old house was well out in the country, and the alley didn’t give much of a chance for enchanting views. It seemed as though this was the exception.

“Just make her something, she’s busy.” George chuckled, watching her from the sofa. The girl turned and looked at him confused, but the man just shook his head with a smile. “Nothing important,” He whispered and let her go back to the hypnotising view.

-

As they sat down to eat together, George asked y/n many questions about her life, determined to learn all he could about her in one evening.

“Let her swallow first will you!” Fred huffed, passing her a glass of water so she didn’t choke in the process.

“I was homeschooled all my life, well- up until I moved really.” The girl smiled politely, trying not to go into too much detail with her answers. The two men were so kind, though, that it was hard not to tell them everything she’d been holding in. “So you didn’t finish it all?”

“I left before I got the chance to,”

They nodded in understanding, but she could see the cogs turning in their heads as they both took another bite of their food, all in unison. She snickered a little, enjoying the way they effortlessly put on a show with their mannerisms.

“Did you run away!” They both cried out, startling her as she sat across from them.

“W-well… I um- yes I d-did really.” A wry laugh sounded as she spoke, an out of place sound amongst the shock that displayed over Fred and George’s faces.

“Woah, did something bad happen?”

“George! You can’t just ask that- you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to y/n.” Fred rolled his eyes at his brother, but the girl felt a sense of relief that they asked, it felt nice to have the chance to tell someone after keeping it to herself all this time. It felt more out of place to not tell them.

“It’s okay,” She chuckled at them both, “My parents weren’t very happy people, and they both kind of kept their lives centered around work. I had no problem with it, either than the lack of freedom I had at home, but it changed when they basically showed me a plan for my life.”

The twins listened intently, nodding along with her words and silently reacting accordingly. They both frowned with the last bit, never hearing of someone having their lives planned out for them before.

“They planned your life? Isn’t that a bit, you know-”

“Controlling,” Fred finished, a look of pity on his face.

“We had different ideas, they wanted me to be a writer at the prophet when I’d shown no interest in journalism or even writing before.”

“That’s mad,” George said in a hushed tone, not wanting to cut her off.

“It was then that I realised the only way I was going to do what I wanted, was if I left. So I just packed my things and came here, hoping to find somewhere to stay with what little money I had. Hannah was nice enough to take me in free of charge, so long as I worked behind the bar for it.”

“Both her and Neville really are saints.” “It’s so much better than I could have asked for, but now they can’t afford it. It’s all understandable, it’s just a pain that I can’t ask my parents for help.”

All the while that she recalled her story, the girl smiled, reminding the men that she was a lot stronger than people might assume. Given what she’d been through, it was amazing that she hadn’t broken down already.

“We’ll figure something out for you, all of us.” Fred smiled, glad to see colour in her cheeks now that she was in the warmth of their loft compared to the drizzly alleyway.

“It’s not the end of the world if your parents don’t support you either, there’s plenty more people in the world who will.” George reassured her, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Oh godric yeah,” Fred joined in, “Our folks went bloody mental when they heard this was what we wanted to start up instead of finishing at hogwarts.”

“Do they like it now?” She asked cautiously, feeling a little better knowing that they too skipped out on their academic life.

“They have to, given how well we’ve done.” “It is hard to deny our success,” They chimed like songbirds, the passion they had for their self made business shining through their wide eyes.

It was no surprise that the three of them got on, but as the night progressed quicker than they thought, the new trio found themselves with no awkward silences. The clock above them looked as though it had been enchanted when George finally glanced up at it, amazed to see that they’d been chatting for four hours already.

Only when y/n yawned did the two twins decide it was maybe time to call it quits.

“It’s getting late,” Fred spoke up, not wanting to keep the girl from her much needed sleep. It must have been a long day for her. “I’ll grab you some blankets.”

As he disappeared up into his room to look for something to keep her cosy all night, the girl helped George clear away their mess from dinner.

“I feel awful,” She smiled politely, handing him more plates to place into the sink that was doing all the work for them.

“What for?” The man seemed genuinely surprised.

“We spent all that time talking, but we never decided on what to do with me.” She scoffed, feeling like a child needing their help. “I promise I won’t hang around much longer, I’ll sort something out.”

“Like what?” He didn’t mean to sound harsh, it was more to show her that they were her only option right then.

“I-I’m not sure… sorry.” “Don’t be sorry, we want to help you.”

The door to Fred’s bedroom opened again and they fell into silence, the girl slipping back into the mindset that she was growing into a burden for them. She couldn’t ask anymore of them, they’ve already done enough for her. Then and there, y/n decided she would leave in the morning.

“Bed’s ready!” The shout came from the living room, where blankets had been laid over the sofa beneath the window. “Thought you would enjoy the view here.” Fred added when she came out to see his masterpiece.

“That’s hardly a bed!” George scoffed, laughing at the copious amount of cushions he’d left for her head, all different colours and sizes.

“It’ll be perfect, thank you.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling under the city lights that spilled into the room. It didn’t even matter that they would reflect against the ceiling as she slept, it looked like stars.

“As long as you like it then,” George muttered, eyeing his brother who clung onto a smug grin.

“Goodnight y/n, sleep well.”

“Night y/n.” They both smiled, turning to head off to their respective rooms as she opened up her case to look for something to sleep in.

“Night Fred, night George… thank you again, for all of this.” They both nodded at her words and disappeared, leaving her to change in the dark loft, only a small lamp beside her lighting her way to the sofa.

She clicked it off, casting lumos and stumbling over the fluffy rug to curl beneath the many layers of covers that Fred had left her. The girl chuckled to herself, peeling one off and folding it in a neat pile on the floor. Two would be just fine for one night.

It didn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep, the whole day’s nonsense catching up on her and slipping her body into a mini-coma. Her mind ran and slowed all at once, memories of nights she would spend in her childhood bed, reading books for hours on end until she’d fall asleep with the pages sprawled open beside her.

Many nights she would hear her parents scream at one another, that harrowing wailing sound would echo for hours until both of them grew tired and they decided to sleep apart yet again. That’s when she knew she could relax, she could finally do all the things that she wouldn’t have time for in the day between her tutor’s classes and meaningless chores.

She had been a night owl, revelling in the time she got to be truly alone, when the house slept she would come alive. Now, she couldn’t stay awake even if she wanted to. She needed to sleep, and fast.

Y/n vaguely heard a door opening and closing, unsure whether it was real or her mind replaying memories all too vividly. Either way, her eyes were far too heavy to open themselves and check. It could wait.

-

Fred cursed himself for not catching his bedroom door behind him, the noise booming across the loft. He waited, frozen at the top of the steps, watching to see if the girl would rouse at the sound. But he was in luck, she didn’t move a muscle.

He padded down to the bottom, making sure each step was lighter than the last as he headed into the small corridor. George jolted awake the second his door was opened, reaching for his lamp to see who was intruding on his sleep.

“What the fuck!” He almost shouted.

“Shut up! She’s sleeping in there!” Fred hissed, walking over to the empty side of the bed and sitting down calmly.

“So was I you git- what the hell are you doing, since when did we start sleeping together?”

“Disgusting-”

“I didn’t mean that,” George rubbed his eyes with a grimace and reluctantly sat up, “What do you want then?” His voice finally hushed to match his brother’s.

“I have an idea,” Fred started.

“Yes,” “Well, I’ve been thinking about y/n-” “If this is you coming to tell me about another sex dream, I don’t wanna know, okay?”

“Will you just shut up and listen to me,”

“Fine, fine, go on.” He pulled the covers over his bare chest, feeling suddenly exposed to the cold night’s air.

“Well, we’ve been saying for ages that we need someone to work in the shop, except we can’t really afford it right now.” Fred explained, and George nodded along. “Look, y/n needs somewhere to stay, but she would never stay here without giving us some sort of payment, right?” The man’s head looked like it was on a spring as he took in the words. “So, why don’t we let y/n stay here with us and in return she can help out in the shop?”

“Do you think she’d agree to that?” “It was basically the same agreement she had with Neville and Hannah, except we have no reason to get rid of her.”

“I suppose so,” He didn't sound overly convinced.

“She needs somewhere to stay, we need someone to work, it’s a win-win situation!” Fred exclaimed, smiling like a mad man to try and convince his brother that their plan could work out.

“Okay, fine. We can ask her in the morning.”

“Great, I knew you’d say yes.” “Well it’s not like she’s the worst person to live with, it hardly took much to sway me.”

“Not the worst person? Come on George, she’s great!” Fred, admittedly, got a bit too excited at this. His voice ringing out louder than he’d wanted it to.

“You have had a sex dream haven’t you?” “Oh shut up!” “Was she in it,” George teased, prompting his brother to get up and head for the door. “So i’m taking that as a yes.” He turned the light off, hearing one last hiss from Fred before the door shut behind him.

“Aren’t you forgetting the time you had a sex dream about Mcgonnogall?” Fred quipped, leaving quickly as not to get a beating up from the other twin, who was mentalling cursing himself for ever revealing that fact when they were drunk one time.

[generallynerdy]

Uncalled they come to me, and told, they still won’t leave me (Din Djarin/Soulmate!Reader)

Spoilers for Chapter 9 (S2E1) of the Mandalorian

Summary: After the ambitious Toro Calican turns on you, his hired mechanic, in hopes of winning favour with the Guild, the mysterious Mandalorian saves your life. Now that you owe him a life debt, he’s stuck with you until you can save him back. It’s not so bad, having a free mechanic and babysitter for the kid, but things take a turn for the worse when both of you realise you might be catching feelings. For someone that might not even be your Soulmate.

Requested by Anon: Hello! How’re you doing? May I please request a Din x reader soulmate au? The one where you don’t see color until you touch your soulmate? It would be very difficult for Din to find his soulmate and I’ve always wanted to see how it played out. If not that’s ok! Thank you and have a wonderful day ❤️

Key: (Y/N) - your name, (h/c) - hair colour, (e/c) - eye colour Translations: vode - siblings, Ret’urcye mhi - goodbye (literally: may we meet again), mirshmure’cya - brain-kiss (Basic term, is Keldabe kiss. This is the soft one as opposed to the literal headbutt term) Asked to be tagged in this disaster: @pearlll09 Word Count: remember when i said this would be 4k? Yeah. It’s 6,478 words. What. The. Fuck.

Author’s Note: this is way longer than I intended it to be but I think u deserve it since u were the only one who saw my post begging for mando requests and actually sent one hksjlfdkj tysm!! I’m so happy I got to write a Soulmate AU for him tbh. Btw, I have it in my head that Yodito would’ve given him the ability to see green, as a familial Soulmate bond, but it wouldn’t work for this if your eyes are green so I just left it out. (Also wtf is up with the Cobb/Din shit, Cobb is clearly in a dedicated relationship with the bartender Weequay. I named them Sala :D) The title is from The Teller of Tales by Gabriela Mistral.

Read On AO3

*

“Do you wear those gloves all the time?”

The Mando gives you a look—one that you can’t read, obviously, but you get the idea that it’s drier than the desert you’re in.

Calican snorts, but you shoot him a glare and he shuts up. You’re only here because he’s paying well for your mechanical skills, enough that his request of an extra hand on his first bounty seemed reasonable. Finding out that he’s hunting Fennec Shand was...less than pleasing, but now that the Mando is onboard, you’re not quite so worried about the outcome. They’re supposed to be fearsome warriors, after all. And he was smart enough to figure out how to wait out Shand, which is what the three of you have been doing for hours.

“I’m just saying,” you continue, “between the armour and the gloves, it must be damn near impossible to find your Soulmate.”

He shrugs. Sort of. It’s kind of hard to tell, to be honest.

“Haven’t you heard the stories?” Calican asks, flopping back onto the sand. “Mandalorians don’t have Soulmates. They start seeing colour after their first battle; war is their only destiny.”

You roll your eyes. They’re folk tales, really, and ridiculous ones at that. Every sentient has at least one Soulmate, romantic, platonic, familial, or otherwise, and there’s no reason for Mandalorians to be any different. Still, the stories make their rounds. There are specific ones, too, like the one about the Mandalorian Jedi who made the Darksaber; he was said to see colour when he lit his weapon for the first time. Fett, too, was said to have seen a new colour with every clone that was decanted—which is mildly ridiculous.

“Maybe the Mandalorians of old,” Mando comments with a scoff. “Not many of us see battle these days.”

“Well, if you’re looking for it, I know a krayt dragon a few hundred klicks away,” you suggest lightly.

He snorts. “No thanks. I’ll take the assassin.”

“Speaking of,” you said, “you guys know I’m just a mechanic, right?”

There’s a pause. Calican nods, but the Mando is still.

“What?” he asks, displeasure in his voice.

“I mean, I’m pretty good with a blaster, but I’m gonna be useless against Fennec Shand.”

Mando whirls on Calican. “You paid a mechanic to be your back-up? Are you insane?”

He shrugs. “(Y/N) has a mean right hook.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Mando huffs. He looks over at you and you can almost feel him glaring through the visor. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m broke,” you scoff. “Same thing. Oh, hey, do you need repairs on that hunk of junk you pilot? I’ll be more thorough than that lady at the hangar.”

He hesitates. “We’ll see.”

You grin. That’s not a no.

*

“You’re a prick, did I mention that?” you hiss over your shoulder.

Calican shoves the blaster into your side. “Shut up and keep walking.”

The Mandalorian stands on the other side of the hangar, waiting for Calican to make his move. Seriously, this day could not be going any worse. After killing Shand, Toro Calican, certified dumbass, decided that kidnapping you and the Mandalorian’s—pet? Child?—passenger was the best way to go. Whatever the little weird thing that’s in your arms is, it’s pretty cute, and you’d rather he shoot you than the baby holding tightly onto your shirt. In fact, he probably will, because the kid is his ticket into the Guild—you’re just dead weight.

“Looks like I’m calling the shots now. Huh, partner?” Calican asks the Mando. “Drop your blaster and raise ‘em.”

The Mandalorian puts his hands behind his head. Next to you, Calican pushes Peli forward and instructs her to cuff him. With a huff, she moves behind the Mandalorian with the intent to follow orders.

“You’re a Guild traitor, Mando,” Calican begins. You consider sighing. This sounds like the start of a villain monologue. “And I’m willing to bet that this here is the target you helped escape. Fennec was right. Bringing you in won’t just make me a member of the Guild, it’ll make me legendary.”

In a burst of light, the Mandalorian sets off a flash grenade.

You yelp and tuck the little thing into your arms before tucking yourself over into a roll down the ramp of the ship. You fall into the sand just in front of the Mandalorian, who’s moved to fire a shot at Calican, sending him flying off the other side, smouldering.

Breathing heavily, you sit up, the child still in your arms.

“Are you okay? Is the child?”

You look up. The Mandalorian has his gloved hand held out, offering to help you up. Hesitantly, you take it and pull yourself off the ground.

“We’re both okay—I think,” you say hesitantly, holding the baby out to him. “Is he—?”

“Dead,” the Mando confirms, taking the child from you.

You frown. “Good riddance. Thank you,” you tell him hesitantly, though your tone is genuine.

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

He distracts himself by checking on the child, who coos up at him contentedly. You smile a little at the interaction, but put yourself back into focus.

“It’s not nothing,” you say firmly. “I owe you a life debt.”

He freezes. “What?”

“Where I come from, if someone saves your life, you owe it to them. Until I can save your life, I owe you,” you explain.

“That’s—you don’t need to do that,” he says quickly.

You cross your arms. “It’s like your Way. It’s my culture, my honour on the line. You’re stuck with me, Mando.”

“What? No. Can’t you...pay me, or something?”

“I’m broke, remember?”

“You saved the child’s life, doesn’t that count?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “I rolled with him. You did the work, so, no, it doesn’t count, even though he’s your…” You hesitate, remembering the word. “...foundling.”

“You know, you’re kind of getting the better end of the deal here,” Peli pipes up, directing the thought at the Mandalorian. “A free mechanic, babysitter, and an extra blaster? That’s a bargain.”

“Uh...pre-warning, I don’t know much about child care,” you warn immediately.

He snorts. “Neither do I.” After a moment, he sighs deeply. “Fine. But we’re going to work on those blaster skills before you become a liability.”

“Fair enough.”

*

Sticking with the Mandalorian is probably the worst decision of your life.

Almost immediately after Tatooine, in need of more funds, he drags you into trouble with another group of bounty hunters and the New Republic, of all groups.

“Who is this?” someone asks, her voice sing-song as she enters the Mandalorian’s ship.

You don’t bother turning around, continuing your repairs on a hull panel. “The mechanic. Don’t touch anything.”

“You have a personal mechanic?”

A few people enter the ship, making you finally turn around. The first speaker is a Twi’lek woman and the second a Human, who squints disdainfully. From behind him, Mando pushes past their little crew—including a protocol droid and a massive Devaronian—to approach you, deciding to stand next to you rather than them, which brings you immense pleasure for some reason.

“No. (Y/N) owes me a life debt and, apparently, credits don’t cut it,” he explains shortly, sounding frustrated and exhausted.

You nudge him companionably—it’s an argument you’ve had a few times, the paying of your debt. He doesn’t want to be free of you, per se, but he doesn’t want you to be in his debt. Having that kind of power or hold over you makes him uncomfortable, you can tell, as every time it comes up he gets twitchy.

“Kinky,” the Twi’lek snickers.

You grimace. That would explain why Mando sounds like he wants to die. “Fun group. What’s the job?”

“One of theirs got caught. We’re getting him out,” he says. “And we’re using our ship.”

Our ship. Maybe it’s a slip of the tongue or maybe he’s making it clear that you’re with him, but either way, it brings a smirk to your face. The Twi’lek looks disgusted.

“Well, at least my hard work won’t be going to waste,” you huff.

“Mando,” the Twi’lek interrupts, “you haven’t introduced us.”

You can feel him rolling his eyes. “(Y/N), meet Mayfeld, Burg, Xi’an. Mayfeld is running point, the droid is flying, and the target is a New Republic transport ship.”

“Ugh. You guys better be good; I’m not getting arrested.”

“Mayfeld’s former Imperial,” Mando says before any of them can answer.

You scoff. “A stormtrooper? My shitty blaster skills would be better than his.”

“I wasn’t a stormtrooper,” Mayfeld spits, annoyed enough that he must’ve said it once already. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

All but the droid stay, scattered around the hull. Mando follows soon after the jump to hyperspace, having hovered over the droid while it set their course. He stops Burg from getting into the weapons cache right after he hops down the ladder and the two look like they want to kill each other.

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian,” the Devaronian grunts.

Mayfeld huffs. “Well, apparently, they’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy. So they say.”

“Then why are they all dead?”

They all laugh at that—Xi’an with a particularly nasal one, which is irritating beyond belief. You frown deeply, but try not to show how pissed their laughter makes you. That sort of shit isn’t to be made fun of; a dying race. It’s all too familiar these days, what with the death of Alderaan and the crater on Scarif.

When you come back into focus, Xi’an is talking in low tones.

“See, I know who you really are,” she says to the Mando.

You roll your eyes. Unlikely.

(Something in your brain goes: I do, which is stupid. You don’t know who he is, under that helmet, sure, but you’ve seen a lot of him through his actions. He’s reckless, terrifying, and a badass, but he’s also patient and...kind, in his own way. The way he treats the child is like nothing you’ve seen in another bounty hunter. It’s gentle, caring. The kid has really grown on him, you think. And the way he treats you is just straight up polite, even though you’re practically his servant in terms of a life debt. Still, he treats you like a person and doesn’t ask you to do unreasonable favours just because he saved your life. He doesn’t hold it over your head.)

And then they start goading him about the helmet.

Burg actually goes for it, which Mando beats him back for. You jump forward, but just as you do, the door to the sleeping cot flies open, revealing the child.

Instead, you rush to the child, pulling him into your arms.

“What is that?” Mayfeld asks, approaching.

“Back off,” you hiss.

He looks between you and Mando. “Wait, did you two make that?” When you scoff, he frowns. “What is it, like a pet or somethin’?”

“Yeah. Something like that,” Mando says quickly.

Xi’an frowns. “Didn’t take you for the type. Maybe that code of yours has made you soft.”

You snort. Soft. That isn’t a word you’d use to describe him, ever. You haven’t seen very much action since Tatooine, but you saw enough there.

Mayfeld reaches for the child and, without hesitation, you lift your blaster. The way he’s looking at the little guy makes you uneasy.

“Fuck off,” you warn instantly.

“Aw, c’mon, I just wanna hold him,” he teases.

Over the comms, the droid’s voice echoes. “Dropping out of hyperspace. Now.”

The entire ship shudders and shakes, sending everyone flying off their feet. You happen to ram into beskar, your face slamming into the metal, which makes you yelp. The baby wails in your arms as gravity makes to tug you away again. Before it can, Mando grabs your arms and holds you in place against him until the ship is steady once more.

“You okay?” he asks, helping you to your feet—again, you think miserably.

“Ugh, no,” you groan, putting a hand on the left side of your face. “That’s gonna bruise.”

Mando takes the child from you. “Sorry. We’ll deal with it after.”

You wave him off. “I’ve had worse. You worry about the job, I’ll watch the kid,” you say, taking the child back. You can’t help but smile when he coos happily.

“Right,” Mando mutters. For a moment, he watches you both, considering.

“Mando!” calls Mayfeld. “Let’s go!”

Before he goes, he puts a hand on your shoulder. “Be careful. I have a bad feeling about this.” You nod, which seems to appease him, and watch him leave.

Petting the child’s floppy ears, you wonder if he meant that to be as comforting as it was.

*

I should’ve known, Din thinks when Qin walks out of that cell.

I definitely should’ve known, he decides, returning to the Razor Crest to find a sparking droid corpse and a shaking child in your arms.

He tosses the cuffed Twi’lek to the side and rushes to yours, stepping over Zero’s limp form. You look relatively unfazed, for someone who’s just ripped a droid’s head off with their bare hands, but the child is rather distressed. The kid squeaks at the sight of Din and, much to his surprise, lifts your hand to show him.

It’s bleeding.

“What did you do?” Din questions, crossing the hull for his medical kit.

“I...may have tried to punch the droid,” you admit hesitantly. “It didn’t work.”

He scoffs, returning to kneel in front of you with bacta patches in his hands. “No karking shit.”

Your face falls as he reaches for your hand, pulling it toward him so he can patch it up. “It was gonna hurt the kid.”

“You did good,” he murmurs. “Stupid, but good.”

It never occurred to him that you might save the child again. You’re here out of necessity, after all, because you owe him, because your honour depends on paying that debt. The child is just another being in the vicinity, but you still saved him. Again. You’re either very stupid or very kind and he can’t decide which one is more concerning.

“Maybe you should teach me a bit of hand to hand, too,” you suggest warmly, wincing at the bacta’s sting.

Din makes a noise that’s sort of a laugh. “I’ll add it to the list.”

He moves to put bacta on the bruise his beskar gave you—He feels ridiculously guilty for that; here you are, paying off a life debt to him, and he still manages to hurt you—but with a hand, you stop him.

“Don’t waste it,” you say immediately. “I’ve had worse bruises, seriously.”

He frowns. “It’s not a waste.” Before you can protest, he puts the patch on top of the bruise.

You huff. “You’re a worrier, aren’t you, Mando?”

“Apparently,” he replies dryly. He hadn’t realised it, either.

“Will you stop flirting and get us out of here!?” Qin shouts from the other side of the hull. “The New Republic will be on our asses!”

You roll your eyes. “I hate to say it, but he has a point. Where are the others?”

“Dealt with,” he says simply. “It was a double-cross.”

“Well, I figured,” you shoot back with a knowing look. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The drop is easy enough, especially since Din knows that New Republic signal is beeping steadily from Qin’s pocket. He escapes quickly, dipping back into the Razor Crest, where you wait at the top of the ramp, the child hanging onto your boot.

“Let’s go,” he declares, the ramp shutting behind him as he enters.

“Already?” you question with a raised eyebrow. “There are a few repairs I could make out of hyperspace that might be useful.”

He waves you toward the cockpit. “Later. We need to leave.”

“Oookay.” You frown but do as he says, plucking the child from off your foot. “C’mon, little guy,” you mutter to him.

Din waves away all your questions as he starts the take-off. Finally, when the Razor Crest is a safe distance away from the space station and X-Wings appear out of hyperspace, he glances back at you.

“Holy shit!” you cry as they open fire. You look back at him with a slack jaw, which makes him smile underneath the helmet. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

He shrugs half-heartedly, but it’s enough of an answer.

“You’re a maniac, Mando,” you laugh, watching the scene through the transparisteel.

Din thinks over it, staring at you for a long moment. There’s light in your eyes—maybe it’s the reflection of the explosion, but it’s captivating.

“Din,” he says.

You look over. “Hm?”

He clears his throat, trying to shove aside nerves. “My name. It’s Din.”

“Oh. Oh,” you repeat, eyes wide. Then, you smile, more genuine than he’s ever seen from you, he thinks. “You’re crazy, Din. You know that, right?”

He laughs—and that’s the first time you’ve heard a proper one from him. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

*

When Din drops a pair of gloves in front of you, you laugh.

“You’re telling me the gloves are out of convenience?” you ask him disbelievingly.

“The more skin you cover, the less likely you are to get cut up by a vibroblade,” he replies dryly. “Put them on.”

You raise your hands in surrender and take them, slipping them over your fingers. “Surprisingly comfy.”

It occurs to you that this is...sort of a big deal. You’ve kept your hands bare for as long as you can remember, mostly because you’re a romantic and finding your Soulmate has been at the forefront of your mind for a long time. But now, you think, it’s not such a big deal. You have a debt to pay and, besides that, you’re pretty happy with how things are now.

Life isn’t exactly nice with Din and the kid, so to say, but you’re content. You love the child and he adores you. The Razor Crest feels more like home than any planet ever has. And Din is...well, he’s something. Being around him is mildly addicting and whenever he’s gone, something feels incomplete.

“Better?” you ask, lifting your gloved hands.

“Much,” he says. Then, he holds out his own hand. “C’mon, up.”

You take the hand without thought, but before you know it, he’s swinging you around and shoving you to the ground.

“Ow!” you cry. “What the hell, Din?”

He huffs. “Lesson 1: Never take anything for granted.”

“Rude.” You hit his arm meaningfully, but he just rolls his eyes; just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean you can’t tell it’s happening.

“You’ll thank me someday.”

“But not today.”

“Nope. Today, you’re gonna hate my guts.”

*

He’s dying.

It feels unreal, what with everything you’ve watched him survive so far. A newbie bounty hunter, a group of pissed off bounty hunters, lots of bounty hunters, and the New Republic but a group of stormtroopers is what gets him?

Moff Gideon is what really gets him, though. The bastard that helped destroy his people is going to destroy Din Djarin. Hearing him speak Din’s name makes you nauseous, furious, even. He gave you that name in confidence, trusted it to you, the only one of his handful of friends to even use it, and Gideon decides to declare it to Nevaroo in its entirety. It makes your blood boil, enough that you get out of the initial firefight mostly unscathed.

But Din doesn’t. And now he’s dying in your arms and you feel like you failed.

“Go with them,” he tells you, all croaky and half-assed.

“No. No, I’m not leaving you here,” you declare, carefully leaning him against the rubble.

Flames flicker all around the room and the child is crying. It’s not loud or consistent, but it’s enough to break your heart.

“You have to go,” Din says again. “You’ll die.”

You laugh ruefully. “That’s kind of the point. A life debt means I save your life or I die trying.”

A pause.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he hisses through the pain.

“Afraid not, dumbass. You’re stuck with me, remember?”

He grasps your arm, his hands still gloved. If you’re going to die here, maybe you should ask him to take off the gloves. A part of you has wondered…

“C’mon, tell me it’s transferable—some ‘dying wish’ shit like that.”

You nod, though the action sinks uncomfortably into your chest. Leaving him here...that doesn’t sit well with you. But if he asks, then you’ll do it. “Yeah, you name it, but it’d better be a big one, something equivalent.”

The breath he lets out is one of relief. “Take care of the kid. Go find his people and return him to them. Protect him.”

“With my dying breath,” you swear, the words holding an air of ceremony.

Din grasps your arm tighter and pulls you down, your forehead meeting his helmet. You’re not sure what it means, but it must mean something because he mutters words in his own language, which you’ve never heard him do before.

“Ret’urcye mhi.”

May we meet again.

Din does what little he can in saying goodbye to you, as deeply as that cuts. You’ve grown on him, a little too much maybe, and it kills him to think that you’ll be without him now. You still can’t hit a headshot, he realises, suddenly worried for how you’ll fare.

And so he gives you what he can: a Keldabe kiss and a goodbye, instead of the action he wants to take. He wants to take off his gloves and see if he can figure out the colour of your eyes. On the other hand, though, he doesn’t want to leave you with that, of all things, to leave you seeing the red of his blood and the blue-tinged orange of the flames before any other colours.

You take the child in your arms and, with one last glance at Din, leave the room for the covert’s tunnels underground.

The child whimpers up at you.

You look down, sniffling, and pet his ears gently. “I know, little one. I’m so sorry.” You place a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Cara appears, tugging on your wrist. “C’mon,” she says gently. “We need to get out of here.”

It occurs to you, as the three of you and Greef move on, that Cara might help you with the child. For Din, obviously. She’s a good person and, frankly, she and Din seem pretty friendly. The second she saw you, she’d offered her bare hand and bemoaned the fact that her vision was still black and white, much to your amusement. It was all in good fun, but Din had looked a little uncomfortable, for reasons you didn’t know.

“(Y/N),” Cara says quietly, calling your attention back.

You shake yourself from your thoughts. “Sorry.”

She smiles sadly. “It’s okay. Just keep up.”

The small group turns a few corners before footsteps sound from behind. You immediately place the child in the bag hanging from Cara’s shoulder and draw your blaster, watching her and Greef do the same.

From the distant hall, two figures approach: IG-11 and—

“Din!” you half-cry, half-breathe out. Holstering your blaster, you meet them halfway to take more of Din’s weight from IG. “How—?”

“No living thing can see me without my helmet. IG isn’t alive,” Din says dryly.

You laugh, a partly manic sound. “Thank kark. You’re not getting out of this that easy.”

The noise he makes is both amused and resigned. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Where’s the—?”

“He’s with Cara,” you say, finishing the thought before even he can, in his groggy state.

It’s safe to say that when the Armourer gives him his sigil, Din almost considers correcting the Clan of two to a Clan of three. He doesn’t, reminding himself that you’re here because of a debt and nothing else, but the thought is there.

*

The months after Nevarro are more peaceful than the first week of your time with Din. 

You finally get to pull a proper sleeping space together for yourself. Well, it’s a hammock in the hull, but it’s better than the seats in the cockpit. The child gets his own hammock, too, though it’s in the cot space with Din. He loves it, so much so that he squeals when he sees it. That’s your proudest moment, for sure.

Most days, you tend to forget that you still owe a life debt. To be honest, it just feels like the three of you are normal. Din takes bounties, you take short mechanic jobs on different planets, and the two of you trade off on child-duty. It’s pretty regular, more than what your life used to be, anyway.

Din is still training you in hand-to-hand and blasters, of course. You’re getting better with the latter, but the first is difficult. On the way to Tatooine, where there’s supposedly another Mandalorian, he decides to have another training session.

“Fists higher, do it again.”

Huffing, you wipe your wrist across your sweaty forehead. It’s easy enough to obey the order—the first part, anyway. Getting into his guard is difficult, though.

One hit, two blocks—there. You slip under his guard and make an abrupt drop to the ground, sweeping his legs out under him with a fierce movement. He goes down in a tumble of beskar, joining you on the floor. As soon as he’s down, you flip over and straddle his hips, an arm over his neck in false threat.

He barks out a laugh. “Much better.”

“I’m not entirely hopeless!” you declare joyfully before bursting into snickers.

Leaning down, you thunk your forehead against his helmet. The gesture is fond, you’ve learned, something shared between close companions—or at least you think. Din told you that it’s called a mirshmure’cya in Mando’a, that it doesn’t have an equivalent word in Basic.

(Which is technically true. Literally, it means brain-kiss, but the outsider term for it is Keldabe kiss. It can be used for close companions—vode in arms, family—but it’s also used for romantic partners, so he’s mildly horrified at the idea of explaining its cultural significance to you and having to face his feelings for someone that may or may not be his Soulmate. He hasn’t gotten up the courage to ask if he can check. Or try to do it discreetly.)

A distant beeping starts up, coming from the cockpit. It’s the approach warning, which means the training session is over.

“I’ll get the kid,” you say, climbing off Din and offering a hand.

He takes it without hesitation, dragging himself up and making a beeline for the cockpit.

Tatooine is about what you remember. That is, it’s dry, sandy, and the worst planet you’ve ever been on. Stepping out of the ship and into the hangar makes you smile, though, at the not-so-distant memory of Din saving your life. It hasn’t been that long, but it feels like it’s been years.

“Oh, hey!” says Peli, after greeting the child—which is fair, he’s adorable. “You’re still with him! Haven’t repaid that debt yet, huh?”

Your face falls. “Uh, no, not really.”

On the way to Mos Pelgo, your thoughts linger on the life debt. One of these days, you’re going to save Din’s life—then where will you be? Will he want you to leave? What will you do if you have to leave? Your old life was nowhere near as interesting as this, nor did you have anyone close to what Din and the child are to you.

The dreary grey slopes of sand only make it easier to think of the worst possible outcomes. Now you remember why you hated Tatooine so much.

You don’t even realise the speeder is approaching the small town until Din taps your arm, which is wrapped around his waist. Jumping at the touch, you loosen your grip sheepishly and glance at the child, who looks like he’s enjoying himself immensely.

After the speeder comes to a stop, you take the kid while Din enters the cantina.

When you enter yourself, you find that he’s about to shoot someone, while the Weequay behind the bar looks rather distressed.

“Perfect timing, as always,” Din remarks without a glance.

You raise your free hand. “You’re the bad luck charm, I’m just here for the ride,” you retort teasingly.

“You brought a kid to a gunfight?” his opponent asks, raising an eyebrow.

Finally, you glance over at him and see why Din looks ready to kill him. He’s in Mandalorian armour but his helmet is off—clearly, he’s not Mandalorian. “You’re wearing beskar and you’re not a Mandalorian, buddy. I think you’re in more trouble than the kid is.”

“He is,” Din gets out, a twinge of viciousness in his voice.

Before they can even reach for their blasters, though, the ground starts to shake.

You grab onto the doorway for support, eyes wide as you grip the child. Din and the Mandalorian poser move toward the door, joining you and staring out at the street outside.

The entire planet feels like it rumbles and chaos reigns outside.

Something is moving the sand—coming toward the town.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper as it goes by, shifting the sand like it’s an ocean rather than earth. It flies out of the ground, sharp teeth the only thing you see as it consumes a bantha whole.

When it’s gone, the poser huffs. “Maybe we can work something out.” He turns to you, offering a hand, which is covered by fingerless gloves. “Cobb Vanth. I’m the Marshal here.”

You take it hesitantly, glad that things are still black and white when you make contact. “(Y/N).”

He notices your hesitation and chuckles. “The Weequay in there is Sala, my Soulmate. I’ll see if they can’t whip up something for the kid; I’m sure he’s starving.”

“Very,” you say, just before he goes to leave.

When it’s just you and Din, you look over at your companion. “Krayt dragon, huh?”

“Yep,” he sighs, already sounding tired.

You laugh. “I know I said I could bring you to one when we met, but I was totally kidding.”

He looks over at you and you can feel the low-level glare behind the visor, but it only makes you snicker. “I hate you.”

“You’re so full of shit,” you retort immediately.

*

You finally get to repay your debt.

It’s not what you’re thinking about when you shove Din out of the way of the krayt’s projectile venom, but it’s repaid nonetheless.

Din doesn’t think of it immediately, either, as he’s rather more concerned with the fact that you’re sent flying across the desert into a pile of debris and sharp rocks.

“(Y/N)!”

Before he can run to you, Cobb grabs his arm. “The dragon!”

To be honest, killing the dragon feels like a bonus when he pulls himself together and figures out a plan. When the great beast explodes, the Tuskens and the villagers cheer, but Din races back to the place he saw you last. He pushes aside the remains of one of those massive weapons they built to find you, laying on the ground. For a moment, panic clutches his heart, but then you groan.

“Am I dead?” you ask.

Din lets out a breath, hardly managing it, as he kneels next to you. “Dumbass.”

“Because it feels like I’m dead.”

“Dumbass,” he repeats, ripping your shirt away to find a deep cut in your side, just above your hip. “Of all the ways to pay your debt—”

You sit up, wincing. “Oh,” you say, as if you hadn’t realised it, “I guess I did that, too.”

Din’s heart is still beating a million klicks a second at how close you were to being dead, but for a second, it flips, realising that you hadn’t saved him just to pay the debt. And then, as he’s helping you off the ground and bringing you toward the others, who have bacta patches ready, his heart sinks.

Your debt is paid. You don’t have any reason to stay with him and the kid. As soon as you get back to the city, he’s going to have to watch you leave.

Shit. He didn’t think this through.

Meanwhile, you’re on the same train of thought. Does he really think you saved him for the debt? Does he want you gone that bad? It makes sense. You’re a pain in the ass, with all the training you need. But...well, you thought he might’ve—

“I’ve changed my mind,” you declare.

Din, terrified, attempts to sound neutral. “About?”

“The worst job we’ve ever taken. This is definitely it,” you huff as he helps you down onto a smoother boulder, taking patches from a Tusken.

He goes to use them, but you raise a hand.

“If you even think about getting near my wound with those nasty gloves, I’m going to skin you,” you threaten.

Frankly, Din is too shaken to even laugh. The silence lays there, stilted, as he removes his gloves and sits somewhat behind you, on another close stone. You’ve taken yours off, too, seeing as one is ripped all the way through.

He’s careful with the bacta patch and his bare hands, making sure not to touch your skin.

Now, of all moments, would be the worst time to find out that you really don’t have a reason to stay.

While he works, he thinks, briefly, that he should say something. “(Y/N),” he starts to say. “I—”

But that happens to be the moment he’s putting the bacta patch on. You suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, wincing. Your hand flies out, reaching for something to ground you. Of course, because something out there has it out for you, you grab his hand, forgetting that his gloves are, for once in his life, not there.

You realise, ridiculously, that his hand is warm.

And then the world around you explodes into colour.

The faded yellow of the surrounding desert is overwhelming with how it burns into your eyes alongside the brilliant blue of the sky. The surrounding Tuskens are in browns and greys, simple things, but so, so beautiful to your new sight. You breathe out, a shaky action.

Behind you, Din comes to see the same, but his gaze is stuck on the back of your head—the (h/c) of your hair and how the light catches in it, despite it being a complete mess.

You barely have the breath to gasp, but you do, whirling around to face him.

His beskar is beyond what you’d pictured: a shining, sparkling silver that could stand out on a star. No wonder rooms fall silent at the sight of him.

Din has the same thought about your eyes. On death’s door, all he’d wanted was to know what colour they are and now he knows, but it feels so useless now. He doesn’t even know what to call them. Sure, (e/c) would work, however weakly. You are...something else. You always have been, but now it’s like he can see it, the beauty of who you are so plainly painted into your features.

Din doesn’t even have the time to be afraid of your reaction before the words are slipping out. “I don’t want you to go.”

You just stare at him for a long moment, words processing.

It...kind of freaks him out.

He jumps when you fling yourself at him, arms wrapped around his shoulders in the tightest hug he’s ever gotten. Immediately, he responds, clutching the back of your shirt like it’ll save his life.

“Thank the Force,” you breathe out, just beside where his ear is under the helmet. “I don’t wanna leave.”

Din lets out a breath of relief and tugs you closer so you’re practically sitting on his lap. It can’t be comfortable, but you don’t seem to mind. When you do finally pull away, it’s to press your forehead against his helmet. It sends a swell of affection through him again, your constant Keldabe kisses. He taught you something important to his culture, to him, and here you are, using it without thought.

“Is it too late to tell you that this is the Mandalorian equivalent of a kiss?” he murmurs, more than a little embarrassed.

You laugh softly, arms reaching to rest around his neck. “And I thought you were so cool.”

“I just blew up a krayt dragon,” he argues.

“Oh, you’re plenty badass, Din,” you tease back, “just...not smooth.”

He huffs. “I’m gonna kick your ass next training session.”

A grin comes over your face and, for a second, he can’t comprehend why that would make you smile—until he realises that he just promised a next time. You’d genuinely believed he wanted you gone and Din thought you wanted to leave, but neither of you were right. 

A whine from below catches both your attention.

The child reaches up from the ground, making grabby hands.

You laugh, a noise Din echoes quietly, and pluck him from the ground, holding him in your careful hands. “Hey, buddy. Feeling left out?”

He squeaks a confirmation, his little hands—green hands, you realise, deeply amused—reaching for Din’s helmet. Once he has a comfortable hand, he bashes his head against the helmet.

Din yelps, not out of pain, but concern, grabbing for the kid, who wobbles dizzily.

“Oh, shit—” Din says.

“Woah, woah,” you get out between wheezing laughs. “Don’t do that! His head is much harder than yours.”

The kid makes a weak huff and curls against Din’s chest stubbornly.

“I think that was an attempted kiss,” you suggest to Din.

Underneath his helmet, he grins. Petting the child’s head with a gentle finger, he looks back up at you. “It was cute.”

“Very,” you agree.

Without prompting, Din reaches for your hand again, a little hesitant. You take his gladly, running your thumb across his knuckles, which makes him shiver.

“Clan of three,” he whispers.

You lift your gaze. “Hm?”

“The Armourer, she said, ‘Clan of two’ when she gave me my sigil,” he explains. “I wanted to correct her then.”

The smile on your face is beyond words. “Clan of three has a ring to it. You’re stuck with me for good now, Din Djarin.”

He snorts and raises your hand to his helmet, touching it briefly to the metal in lieu of kissing it.

Tatooine might be the worst place in the universe, Din thinks that it doesn’t matter so much where he is. Sitting here, with you and the kid, he thinks that this might be home.

*

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

Masterlist

[imaginewarehouse]

Various Males x Fem!ExModel!Reader || Oneshot

Plot: You, a retired model get hired at Cloud 9 and, not-at-all-surprisingly, you get harassed by every allegeable (According to them) bachelor in the place- but god fucking damnit! You’re just here to get a paycheck??!  

“You can’t knock ‘em out, you cant walk away,

Try desperately to think about the politest way to say,

“Just get out of my face,”, “Just leave me alone,”

“And no you cant have my number,”,

“Why?”

“Cuz I lost my phone.”

(Inspired by Lily Allen’s Knock ‘Em Out)

Includes (In order of appearance after the introduction bit): Sal Kazlauskas, Garret McNeil, Tate Staskiewicz, Isaac (And I think my favouritism here definitely bleeds through*Cough*), Elias Greene, Cory, Jonah Simms, and Marcus White.

Warnings: Sal, harassment (They leave after you say no though. Just to be sure) 

🔆  🔆  🔆

“And uh, yeah one last thing before we all hop off to work! We have a new Cloud 9 family member. Y/N! Would you like to stand up?” Glenn, the lovely man who took your interview a week ago and then went out of his way today to look for you out front in the morning to show you around quickly and guide you through clocking in, finds you in the crowd of workers and gestures for you to stand.

Oh, uh- uhh, okay! Up we get, then, you think as you stand up like he said and take a look around at all the judging eyes, which normally wouldn’t phase you but here is a lot scarier than what you’re used to. This an entirely different environment to getting up at a modelling gig- you know nothing about working this kind of job! You’ve never done it, so, you’re afraid they’ll judge you right off the bat and make it difficult for you to ask questions. And you can’t keep bothering Glenn- he has more important things to do.

Oh god, you hear whispering. You peer around. Where is that coming from?-

“This is Y/N L/N! She’ll be working with Go back’s today,” Right, Go Back’s Easy enough; Glenn explained them earlier before the meeting started. “So if you see her in your area- be sure to say hello and see if she needs some help, K? Good. We’re jazzed to have you with us Y/N.”

“Thank you!” You quip quickly, then sit down and focus on Glenn again, hoping dearly at the same time that attention disperses from you immediately.

Glenn smiles, glancing down at his clipboard for any last-minute messages. “Okay! I think that’s it, so- “

The whispering from before suddenly cuts off. “Uh yeah, question?” Glenn stops short when a man in the back kind of rudely cuts him off, but sighs out a ‘Yes, Marcus?’ as the woman beside him - Dina, - rolls her eyes severely. Oh, you let a tiny ghost of a smirk slip over your lips. That’s kind of a reaction, isn’t it? “Yo- new girl.” What- me- w h y- You immediately get awkward again and twist around in your chair, but don’t really know who to look at. Luckily the tall brunette in the warehouse uniform is pointing, so you figure it out pretty quick that that’s who you’re looking for, and calm down. Mostly. 

Yeah? You raise one eyebrow. “Hi?”

He grins back to the right and the left of him, to his equally pleased buddies and pals, before raising a Vogue magazine- and it’s the issue on which you scored the front page. Jeez, that was months ago! “Is this you?”

A chorus of ‘Ohhhhh’ and general excitement travels around the room and for the first time ever, you’re half ashamed to admit that yes that is you. In your usual circle this is something to be proud of… but you get that it isn’t really like that, in non-modelling circles. In fact, it could be something to be embarrassed about.

Especially seeing that oh dude and his gang of Michael Myers fashion wannabes look like a hungry, dim-witted, wolves rather than plainly interested about your modelling career.

But, still, you smile politely and nod. Hopefully it’ll be forgotten before the afternoon, at least. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Nice.”

Hmm… you really, really hope that it’s forgotten soon, at least, as you turn back around to face the front again as Glenn sends everyone off to work. Because if not, then these boys are going to learn the hard way that models take self-defence classes religiously.

Or at least you are going to have a very uncomfortable day, which is just great. You groan inwardly at the thought, as you gather up your coffee from the table beside you and drop it in the trash can on the way out.

~

You’re just doing your own thing and someone

Comes out of the blue,

They’re like,

“Alright”

But he’s saying

“Yeah can I take your digits?”

And you’re like, “No, not in a million years, you’re nasty.

Please leave me alone.”

There’s already so many Go Back’s! You think excitedly, as you get to work looking for where things should be. You’re glad to have something to do- at your first job with Chuck E Cheese, before you got into the modelling thing, you were basically useless the first day because you weren’t allowed to grill yet, you didn’t know how to assemble, and they didn’t want you out on the floor for the birthday party that was happening, in fear that you would mess up royally. So you just sat around trying not bother anyone, and that felt terrible. So, wandering the aisles of Cloud 9 with a full shopping trolley searching for products and neatening things up? Sounds like a good deal to you. Yes please.

“Uhh, hi.”

You practically jump entirely out of your skin, hearing the voice right beside you and whip your head around to see a balding guy in a blue Cloud 9 jacket. Is this man licking his fingers!?

“Uh,” You step back with your brightest, most polite smile, picking something up from the Go Back’s cart and rounding it to put it between you and the man, before acting like you’re stupid enough to be putting barbecue sauce in the Barbie section, and then… “Oh, oops! Silly me!” You flash the guy a nervous look. “I’m still working things out… “

Well? Better to look like an absolute idiot, then be standing within grabbing radius of the creepy man licking his fingers that you’re all alone in the middle of an empty aisle with. “Um… so, what’s up? Did someone send you to find me, or… am I doing something wrong? You know better than me, after all!”

“No… “His gaze licks up your form and if it weren’t for all your ‘training’ in staying still and not feeling this kind of thing- you absolutely would have wigged out. “You’re doing fine… Just wanted to see you.”

Boy- if anyone else could see your face right at this moment, full of disgust and mild horror, you’re sure you would be YouTubes next hit. Or a meme. “Oh… “You nervously chuckle. “Um, well, I’m gonna… go… “You pull the trolley around so that you can back up out the back of the aisle and escape through stuffed toys, into the open but his hand comes down on the other end of the trolley- stopping it. Before you can stop yourself, verbal diarrhoea spews from your lips. “Glenn has my resume- there’s a photo on there you can have.”

“That’s okay I prefer them to be breathing.” Both his hands are on the end of your trolley now, tight so his knuckles turn white, and he’s breathing unnecessarily heavy. He’s even leaning over the trolley some like his body really can’t handle whatever terrible heat is plaguing it right now. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god… this is so gross.

“Well, that’s… u-understandable...”

He looks up into your eyes, now, and doesn’t blink. Who the hell is this guy?! “Say… “ Oh no, oh no- he’s coming around the trolley-he’s coming around-he’s close-too close-too close-mayday-MAYDAY- Slowly, in your face, he licks up his thumb, makes an ‘Mm,’ sound, and you deeply wince; So much so in fact that one of your eyes completely closes. “Could I take your phone number?”

You absolutely couldn’t have helped what happened next if you had wanted to.

“Eeeeuuuwwwwwwww no not in a million years, your nasty, please leave me alone!!” You exclaim in a high voice before abandoning the trolley and rushing off to customer service.

~

“No you cant have my number,”

“Why?”

“Cuz I lost my phone.”

By the time you got to the front desk, you had basically calmed down and were mostly just stressed that you left the Go Back’s behind- but still must look troubled as the guy manning the front desk makes a confused, half-concerned but mostly intrigued kind of face at you as you stop there. You’re about to explain your appearance - that or just shrug, not too bothered about reporting whatever mess that was. Not on your first day, at least. No way. - when his face relaxes, and he nods. “Ohhh. Damn, Sal got to you?”

Sal? Was that the guy’s name? You didn’t check. “Oh, was that his name? I was a bit too preoccupied by his eyeballs sucking out my soul, to notice his name tag.” Now that you’re thinking about it, though, you glance at this man’s name tag. Garret.

“Yep, that’s Sal. That’s just one of the wonderful things involved in working here that you’ll just have to get used to.” Garret grins, offering you a chill perspective with a side of cynicism. You sigh, truly feeling relieved that you’ve found a normal person and relax your back against the taller part of the desk.

“Brilliant.” The sarcasm drips off the tip of your tongue.

“You’ll have to deal with a lotta that here, though, looking like you do.” You turn your head to the side to look already exhausted just by the idea, at him. He shrugs. “Hey, I don’t make the rules. I just speak the truth.”

“God- I feel sorry for the other women working here.”

“Oh, no. They’re in a completely different wheelhouse to you. Sorry.” Garret leans on his forearms on the desk, and you roll over to lean on your shoulder and pay attention. “See, you’re a model- “

“I was a model,”

“You were a model- which through primitive male thought process makes you prime real estate. Whoever manages to ‘bag’ you, for lack of a better word I apologise, gets some serious bragging rights.” He shrugs, and looks vaguely apologetic but still some how shameless as this utter bullshit slips out of his mouth. “We can’t help it- some of us don’t even know we’re doing that, but we are. Actually, I’m probably the only one who’ll admit it… which… kinda makes me your best option. Self-awareness, and all that.”

Oh. A dry laugh comes out of you as you feel a text come through in your back pocket and pull out your phone. As you see that its not an urgent message, you immediately put the phone back and glance around for any supervisors before returning to your conversation with Garret. “Oh- of course it does.”

“Exactly!” He grins, and you can’t tell through his expression at all whether he’s genuinely this clueless or if he’s just shooting his shot. “So- “

“No, you can’t have my number.”

“Why?”

Deadass, in a very monotone voice, you say: “I lost my phone.”

Then the two of you just have a stare off for a minute. Garret because he just saw you use your phone, and you because you wont back down.

~

“Oh yeah, actually yeah I’m, I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby in like 6 months, so no. Yeah, yeah… “

“You know,” The chemist pipes up from behind the Pharmacy desk as you put back some pill boxes he said were fine to return to the shelves, and you glance over at him to show you’re listening, and check his name tag. “I myself considered a career in modelling, before this. People even say, now, that I could model.”

Oh boy. You think, fighting not roll your eyes. And how old are you? Early 30’s? I don’t think so buddy.

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t recommend it.” You flash him a nervous grin before returning to your shelving. “You’re good for, like, 3 years. But then you hit 22 and unless you look like Victoria Justice shared with you whatever youth fountain she got chucked into, then you have to find something else to do with your life- despite having nothing to fall back on.” Okay… so… I might be a bit bitter.

Tate chuckles - and oh boy, he sounds just like your old manager. Totally fake, -, hiding his hands in his lab coat pockets. “Yeah, you’re probably right… Besides, I got the better end of the deal, anyway. Doctor for the doctors, they call us.” They call Pharmacists that? Who? That’s news to you. “Ahhh, yeah… I’m doing pretty well for myself.”

“Yep.” Forcing a fake smile his way, you leave the shelf you were stocking and get closer to the desk to stock another, as Tate’s eyes follow you waiting for encouragement of some kind. Doesn’t he have a job to do?? “You chose well!”

“Yeah, thanks. I know.” Ffffff-f a r out. This guy! “You know, you and me, we’d make a good couple.”

Oh? Dear god? You pause your shelving in surprise at the bomb this man has just dropped so casually, fish oil tablets paused on their journey to the shelf mid-air. Could Garret’s crazy-pants theory have been right?

“Ohh,” You giggle nervously, returning to work a bit faster now. “I don’t know. I think for a pharmacist like you, I would envision, like… “An actual doctor? No, I can’t say that. “A personal trainer, or something. Keep you both healthy all-round, you know? Now that’s a power team.” As long as that personal trainer has humility enough for the both of them, at least.

“Mergh,” He makes a face, like ‘What the heck are you talking about??’, before shaking his head of the things you just said and leaning over the desk towards you. You keep packing, even faster now. Like the Flash. Go! Go! Go! Death Con 5!! “So, whadaya say? I could pick you up Friday after work, and we could head up to one of my timeshares?” He says that like it’s such a selling point! You think, fighting off the powerful urge to laugh but still feeling the panic deep in the pits of your soul. “Stake it out together for the weekend? Get to know each other?”

“Uhh… “Excuses! What are they? You slowly stop stocking, turning around to face him and crossing your arms. The man deserves to at least be faced as he’s rejected; You’re kind enough to give him that, at least. “I’d love to! But, the thing is… “Chewing your bottom lip, you think hard.

Ding Ding Ding!!

“The thing is, Tate… “You fake some nerves, now. “I’m actually, uh… “You look up, face relaxing. “Pregnant.”

Oh boy, the way that man recoils at that word, like a terrified, disgruntled, blonde hedgehog. You’re going to laugh so hard about it, later!! “Oh.”

“Yeah! Oh, I mean, yeah… I’m gonna be having a baby, in like, 6 months so… yeah… Yep.“ You shrug to him, as if its just so unfortunate. “Shame.”

~

She looks in her bag, takes out a fag, tries to get away from the guy on a blag,

Can’t find a light.

‘’Here, use mine.’’

‘’See the thing is I just don’t have the time.’’

Ahh, lunch. Now you can check your texts! Hmm, you look through your notifications and gradually lose excitement. Mum… mum… mum… phone bill company… friend… mum again…

Ah, the glamorous life of the famous.

You roll your eyes, and get to responding to your mothers texts about dinner and when you’ll be home and how your first day is going, not noticing the not-so-jolly, not-so-green-(unless-you-meant-pot) giant approaching you. When you finally finish responding to both your mum and your friend, you put your phone away and start unwrapping your lunch- a typical ham sandwich that you’re actually pretty excited about. That’s one good thing about your sudden drop in financial status; You can put in your damn sandwich as many pieces of ham and cheese as you like. Grinning excitedly, you pick it up and have it halfway to your mouth before another person - a very heavy, large person, - drops down beside you on the bench you’ve commandeered behind the store. You close your mouth without any delicious lunch inside it and look up, politely to the person who’s joined you.

And all you can think, is wow.

He could put you in a suitcase and walk off with you right now and have no problems.

That’s wow.

“Hi! I’m Y/N,” You introduce yourself, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I know.” Oh, well yeah okay that’s understandable. Glenn did introduce you to everyone this morning. Despite the man’s less-then-excited response, he takes your hand in his and shakes. It makes you all giddy inside, honestly. So b i g. “Names Isaac.”

Do you remember Isaac in the breakroom this morning? You wrack your brain for him, because surely if he was there you noticed him-

Oh. Yep, you remember him. He was one of that Marcus-Dude’s pals chuckling and whispering behind him. He was one of the men that had the magazine with you on the front, and if there’s one thing you know about men who carry Vogue in their locker’s it’s that they fit into only 2 groups- interested in fashion, obviously… and interested in the women. And this man clearly is not interested in fashion. Immediately, on this realisation, you feel disappointed- you really could have liked this man right off the bat…

But it looks like he’s just going to be another of the men at this store you have to get to know, before becoming friendly with.

“So,” He starts, and you fight off a wince. Hopefully, you don’t know what’s coming. But… the likeliness of that is not high. “You wanna go out, some time? I’m a big fan of your work.” He smirks.

“Oh, ha ha.” You laugh sarcastically, shaking your head and returning to your sandwich. You take a bite and- Ahhhhhh, so worth the wait. Oh my god. Food orgasm. “At least you’re honest!”

“Yeah, so is that a yes?” His face brightens a smidgeon, which is a lot seeing as he doesn’t seem to be totally all there, in the first place.

You look up at Isaac, and look apologetic. He was honest with you so its only fair that you’re genuine with him. “Sorry… “

“Ah- actually, I don’t know if this’ll change your mind, but I have 2 weeks to live, so… “

Never mind on that honesty thing, then.

Dull-eyed, you stare up at him. “… Uh-huh.”

“Its true! I have, uh, cancer.” He insists, nodding his head and forcing his eyebrows up his forehead all serious-like.

“Cancer.” Right.

“Yep.”

Right, time to look in the bag... You start to wrap up your lunch again - sadly, as now you’ll have to wait until the end of the day and the bus ride home to eat it, - and plop it back away in your bag, getting up and pulling out a cigarette instead- that should hold you over until the end of the day. “My lunch break is actually over, so I should go- Damn, where’s my light?“

Isaac rifles through his pockets until he pulls out an old looking neon orange lighter, and offers it to you. “Here, use mine.”

Oh, no. You stare at it like a deer in headlights. If you accept that, like you really want to right now because it’s been a month since your last smoke, then you have obligations to sit with him for another couple minutes, at least.

Aghh… You groan and whine on the inside, before making up your mind and flinging the cigarette into a puddle. “See the thing is, I don’t actually have the time-”

~

“Go away now, let me go.”

“Are you stupid? Or just a little slow?”

“Ughhh… “This one has been giving you looks all day, but had no courage until now to speak to you- but the thing is? He didn’t have the smarts, either, to take off his wedding ring at least before he decided to be a bastard and bother you. So you feel absolutely no regret about being exactly as dismissive or plain rude, as you feel. “Elias? Go away now.”

The nervous man, who’s been ringing his hands this whole time and stuttering through failed date requests that you pretended you didn’t understand because of his struggle, gets panicked. “Just let me ask!- Will, will you go out with me?”

“No.” You yawn, dropping a piglet toy into a basket.

“But!- “

Turning away, you start pushing your trolley along to get to the next aisle. “Let me go.”

“We can go wherever you like!”

Sighhhhhhhhh. You turn around and grant him an audience, putting your hands on your hips and raising you brows at the wedding band on his left hand.

“Are you stupid? Or just a little slow?”

~

“Please fuck off.”

Oh good god in heaven, they’re going bigger with their proposals.

“Y/N! Will you go out with me?”

This man, Corey, has grabbed the announcement phone now that you’re walking away, making you freeze like the dad possum in Over The hedge and seriously consider playing dead, too, as you slowly turn around to look at him again.

Oh, if only looks could kill- he would be so dead that even Vlad the Impaler’s victims would laugh.

This is your first day, and the fact that you’re being harassed by multiple stupid men is bad enough but now he’s calling attention to you like this? Glenn’s going to think you’re a troublemaker!! Jesus fucking Christ- you need this job! Corey continues to talk into the speaker phone, even as he looks into your eyes and sees his death.  “And… now… you’re looking at me like that, so uh… I’m just gonna… say please?”

… “’Please’ fuck off.”

“Yes ma’am-“  

~

“Go away now, I’ve made myself clear.

I don’t think so.

Nah its not gonna happen.

Not in a million years.”

Since the run-in with Corey and the following spike in your blood pressure, you’ve calmed down again. But now you’re looking into the two faces of a ‘Mateo’, who you apparently work with, and a ‘Castor’ who does not work here and is not shopping but is still in your face and is t h i s close to feeding that ugly tie to his cousin.

But, still, you’re going to stay graceful, because Castor constantly looks like he’s 3 seconds from pooing himself. “Now please go away, now… I think I’ve made myself clear.” By explaining, politely, that you aren’t looking for a man but thank you for the offer, Castor.

“Oh, but you haven’t heard what Castor does for a living! He’s in insurance,” Mateo explains to you, like this is some huge game changer. When you don’t react, he adds that there’s good money, insurance.

You almost laugh. Does this boy really think you’re such a gold digger? Boy- if I wanted riches then I could’ve easily become a C-Class actor who has no skills in the area, but is pretty so gets praised like she does- like a lotta my model friends.

Instead I’m here, at Cloud 9.

Come to your own conclusions.

But instead of saying that, though, you just shake your head nervously. “I don’t think so… “

“But!- “

“Nah… sorry, its… not gonna happen… “

“But Castor is- “

“Not in a million years… “

~

“Aw, no. I gotta go. My house is on fire.”

Now, at least this one is respectful, you think, listening to him talk about the products you’re shelving together. He had come over and offered to give you a hand when you looked confused, as a ‘Cheyanne’ had handed you a scanner earlier and then promptly ran off, despite your utter incompetence. You were so relieved that this guy turned up!!

“… so, you just punch in reduce .50, and scan! Its pretty easy, if you have it properly explained to you. I- I was actually in the same situation, as you! When I first started here, except I ended up, uh, reducing all the items in electronics to 15 cense rather than discounting it all 15 percent.” A grin spreads across your lips at the story, and thank god that Jonah had turned up before that happened to you and, with your luck, you got fired for it.

“Oh no!”

“Yeah- Amy, our uh, floor supervisor, was pretty cranky with me about that… “He laughs himself, resting his hands on his hips; Still looking nervous at the memory.

You look back down at the scanner you’re holding and shake your head. “Well at least you know, now! And thank you so much for coming to my aid, haha. I was so lost- you’ve been a huge help! A life saver, truly.”

“Yeah… “ He gives a cute little, reserved smile. “So, uh, its basically the end of the day! Hope you’re first day hasn’t been too strenuous. At the end of my first day, I know I was tired. But I got to go out with a couple of the other employees and have a drink, to destress. If-If you were free, we could… do something. Together.” Your eyebrows slowly raise up your forehead at that, and you turn to look up Jonah, sceptical. What was that? You sure have had a long day, and its about to get a lot longer if this boy is asking what you think he is. “Sorry! Sorry, that sounded weird. Um, I guess what I’m really asking, is… would you like to, I dunno, go out with me sometime? I know some great places.”

Oh, noooooo! You cry, on the inside. You thought you found a normal one!

Still, he is being so nice… The least you could do is let him down easily.

“Oh, Jonah, I actually… oh- sorry.” Your phone beeps in your pocket and you take it out quickly to have a glance - its just your mother… again, - … and suddenly get an idea. Feigning shock, you quickly put the phone away and put down the scanner. It’s time to clock out and go home, anyway, thank god. “I have to go! That was my mum, uh- I really have to go!”

“Wow, wow, wow, what’s wrong?? Can I help with anything?”

Oh… he looks so concerned. He’s sweet.

But before you can rethink your words, this living horror slips out. “My-my house is on fire.”

Oh god, you’re a horrible person.

~

“I’ve, I’ve got herpes. No- Syphilis!”

Oh thank god the day is over. Rolling your shoulders back, you kneel down at your bottom locker, open it up and take out your bag. Now you can go home and put on Gotham on Netflix, wear no pants and eat thin mints until you fall asleep.

When you get up, you aren’t watching out for a man to be standing barely half a foot away from you - Your mistake, obviously, - so you jolt right out of your skin when you see him and curse. What is wrong with these men? Does Cloud 9 offer complimentary staff ninja classes along with their lack of health insurance? Man, classy company. “Sorry!” You look up past the coveralls after stepping a safe distance back from him, and immediately feel dread deep in your chest. “Oh, hi. Marcus, was it?”

“That’s me! How was your first day?” He asks, seeming polite enough despite the fact that you’re cornered between tall boy and the lockers. And you’re too tired to try and slip away- this boy will get out of your way.

“It was good! Thanks for asking. I’m ready to go home and collapse, though.” You admit, shoulders dropping and a tired smile on your lips. Mmm… thin mints… bed… blankets… Cory Michael Smith… I can taste it… Marcus just needs to get out of my way.

“I hear that.” Evidently not quite as deeply, though, as he moves on pretty fast. “Listen- I was thinking if you’re into it we could… go out, some time.” He tilts his head forward to clarify, “On a date,”, in case that part hadn’t translated, and chuckles. “We could see a movie or get drinks, or something, I don’t know. How about tonight?”

T-tonight? The word nearly slips from your lips; All disbelief and tears and exhaustion, included. You’re so tired. “Um… you know, tempting offer, but um… “He looks so hopeful. It nearly changes your mind. “Not tonight.”

“OH! So like, tomorrow?” Oh christ- “Cuz I’m supposed to watch Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here with my mum, but… no, I can blow that off! So, tomorrow?”

You take a deep breath, not really knowing what you can say. “Marcus… “He raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. “… I have herpes.”

“Wait, what??” He steps back, nearly tripping over a table in his fear that just being near you will cause him to contract the disease, and you let your guard down in relief. Yep, for sure, definitely. If it makes him back off, then yes- you have herpes. You have a raging, festering case of herpes.

“Yeah! Or-“ Squinting, you pretend to sift through your brain. “Was it Syphilis?” This boys eyes basically bulge out of his head and you’re totally going to laugh about it later, but right now you have to get out of there. You waive your hand dismissively and walk on by him towards the door like you don’t have a care in the world. Before you leave though, you turn around a flash Marcus a big smile. “Either way, ew, right? Well, see you tomorrow buddy! Gotta go! Enjoy I’m A Celebrity with your mum.” Then you’re gone.

Tomorrow is going to be a much better day, once that rumour is properly spread.

[ladyhearthkeeper]

Assalamu alaykum💛💛💛

Small question to my favourite homemaking blog: how to balance being neurodivergent and frequently ill and fatigued with homemaking? I try, but my bedroom is always a mess, especially so during my most trying times where i can't be bothered even with skincare, and if I can't do even the bedroom I will certainly lose my mind if I start doing all the housework tasks alone ahahah

Any tips? 💙

Ah, also: may Allah bless u in this month, and purify our hearts💙💙💙 Ramadan mubarak! I'm both a racial minority and a religious one in my country and your posts about femininity and homemaking are so refreshing and unpretentious, yet so important and inspiring for those like me!!!

Alaykum salaam,

Ramadan mubarak to you too. I am deeply touched to read that I'm your favourite homemaking blog. Thank you. Thank you for your compliments on my posts. I am glad you find them inspiring. I try to share what I do in the hope that it will help. It must be quite a challenge for you to handle every day task. May Allah make it easy for you. And I can understand that taking care of a home may seem daunting with all this. Please be patient with yourself.

Homemaking like every skill is something we learn and grow into. We start by learning how to handle small things and little by little we can deal with the whole thing. Like a shipmate cannot become a captain in one day, we must also learn little by little.

That's why it's great to use the opportunity we have when we are at home with our parents. Keeping the home isn't our responsibility (yet) but we can contribute by helping our parents. This is how we can make our homemaking skill grow without feeling overwhelmed.

Which brings me to my first point : you are entitled to ask for help with house chores. Either from your (future) spouse, other family members or someone else. If one can afford it : there's no shame in hiring help. One cannot do everything, all the time. We all have different abilities and limits. And it's not the end of the world if we cannot handle it alone.

If you want to do it on your own... There are many ways of handling it. The trick is to find the way that fits you and family's needs. There isn't just one way to do things... and everything doesn't have to be perfect... and it never is actually. Real life is messy and we all do our best. I think what helps is breaking down each task and having a 'flexible' plan.

For example : instead of cleaning your whole home (or bedroom) in one go; one can split it into two or three days. Either by task : one day for cleaning clutter, one day for dusting, one day for cleaning the floor. etc. or split it by area of the house : one day for the bedroom(s), living room, kitchen, bathroom etc. It may seem tedious but it can make it easier to tackle each task. It makes each day lighter, with plenty of time to rest and/or do something else.

I know being organized or planning may seem too much but it helps in the long run. One can also be flexible; for example : if one decides that every Monday will be the day dedicated to cleaning, it's not the end of the world if you do it on Tuesday instead because you're not feeling well. But... it should also be treated as something important. Because if you let it go completely, chaos ensues. It's a balancing act.

It helps to remember why we are doing this and that the result will make us feel better.

Meal prepping is also a good thing. We are blessed to live in a time when freezers exist. One can prepare meals in advance for difficult days. Or have easy to prepare meal plans...

The same planning and breaking down of tasks can be done for other types of housework. Laundry doesn't have to be done in one day etc.

My mother taught me that homemaking can be done in a relaxed way. Not everything has to be done right away. Not everything has to be picture perfect. We just have to prioritize on the essential (and what is the essential? Good question that deserves its own post.)

The main aim is to keep our home a happy, safe and somewhat clean place, and to keep everyone well fed.

I hope I answer your question... If not, don't hesitate to ask more questions.

I hope my advice is not too much. Your main priority is to take good care of yourself and be gentle with yourself. 🌺

Like every skill, homemaking isn't learned overnight. So please don't worry. I've had my share of misadventures and still do... And so do all my friends.

May Allah bless you too.

Ramadan mubarak!

Thank you for asking!

[vickyvicarious]

do u have any atla fic recs? all time faves? can be shippy or not

Fun fact, I am incapable of holding back on reclists. In other words: brace yourself, anon. There’s a reason I put most of this behind a cut.

First off, these are almost all Zuko-centric, because I shamelessly play favorites. I’ll sort them by author rec, gen, shippy, and then by other characters because honestly the numbers break down well that way. Within those categories it’ll be more just as I think of it, so no special meaning to the order. I’m not always good about bookmarking even my faves, so some excellent stuff will no doubt be missing, especially since I haven’t read a lot of the more recent stuff yet/forgot some really old stuff, but this will definitely still give you plenty of fic to enjoy.

There’s a good number of FFN links on here so apologies to people who dislike it, but a lot of great stuff is still on there so give it a chance.

Author recs

Everything by @awesomeavocadolove​​  Such hits as Another Brother (Zuko adopted by Hakoda pre-S1), and currently has a Zukka soulmate fic I’ve been meaning to start reading, as well as Unchained Melody, one of my favorite Zukka fics ever. Always quality, you can’t go wrong.

Everything by KimberlyT.  I do not kid. She’s written a variety of ATLA fic ranging from Zutara/other romance to gen, seriously emotional to cracky cabbagebending. I think my favorite is probably Mismatched (S1 Zuko adopts a baby) but honestly just go read it all.

Everything by @emletish-fish​​. She has a very fun writing style and honestly her end-of-chapter notes on why she’s made the choices she has are fun minimetas worthwhile in their own right. Some of her top fics are the Stalking Zuko series (S3 suspicious Katara to Zutara) and The Worst Prisoner (the Gaang kidnaps Zuko in S1 and can’t get rid of him). I think there’s still a good amount of her fic that can only be found on FFN so check there too.

Everything by @botherkupo​​. Especially her Undying Fire series (healer!Zuko) but also just literally everything she writes, it is all so great. Tends toward Zutara but strong gen fics as well sometimes and a lot of fun. Check it all out!

Everything by @muffinlance​​. Loves to toy with her readers’ emotions in the best of ways. Tons of fantastic gen Zuko-centric AUs, I have adored every single fic I’ve ever read by her, can’t praise them enough. Very productive as well, her tumblr is a hub for the ATLA renaissance and her fics inspire lots of others. Has also organized a fanmade ATLA coloring book for charity so get that once it’s out. In the meantime read everything she’s written.

Everything by Haicrescendo. My favorite is What We’re Given (the series where Zuko finds more air bisons and raises them), but there’s a lot of good Zukka fic too. I tend to steer away from explicit works in this fandom unless it’s a smaller part of a much longer plot-centric fic, so there are a number I haven’t read, but I really like the Pokemon!AU Zukka.

Everything by @gaycinema. I really love the EK fight club series (Zuko fights in Rumbles/etc.) but all of it is a good read. Some Jetko, mostly a lot of introspective or emotional oneshots. Which isn’t really a great depiction of how good they tend to be, you’ll just have to read them and find out. You won’t regret it, trust me.

Everything by @captainkirkk. So far eight stellar fics, starting with kind Fire Lord Zuko and ranging to Floating Tea Shop!Zuko who doesn’t want to hunt the Avatar. I love her style and have laughed out loud at multiple of these. 

Gen Zuko fic

Bringing Out the Blue by maguena1. [unfinished, long] Definitely worth the read. The first ATLA fic I ever got really sucked into. The Blue Spirit never gets knocked out so Aang doesn’t know his true identity; he joins the Gaang on a recurring basis, while Zuko attempts to tell himself this is only for information on how to catch them, they definitely aren’t his friends.

It’s Impossible by Sandra Phillips. [abandoned, long] One of the earliest Avatar!Zuko fics (sort of) and a really interesting take on some spirit stuff.

Embers by Vathara. [complete, long] A landmark fic in the fandom, and for good reason. I didn’t love everything about this fic, but it is very well-written and an absorbing read certainly worth the praise. 

the art of description by incandescens. [oneshot, short] Five descriptions of Zuko and Toph’s field trip from various perspectives. Short, sweet, and funny.

Breaking Point by Kryal. [oneshot, short] Zuko isn’t banished but instead sent to serve in the Home Guard. I love Zuko loving his people, and alternate canon explorations, and this is exactly that.

The Alternative by Lunatique. [oneshot, short] The reason Zuko is so determined is because he fears what will happen if he isn’t the next Fire Lord. An idea I support in canon, to a degree, written well.

Hands and Knees by gigerisgod. [oneshot, short] Zuko reflects on the choices he’s made, and experiences he’s had, when joining the Gaang. A nice introspective fic.

Relative Misery by peroxidepest17. [oneshot, short] Toph complains about her family and Zuko takes her on a field trip. Not a fic I take too seriously, but funny in a sad way.

Second Nature by lazyartisan. [possibly abandoned, long] An AU stemming from Zuko’s capture at the North Pole. Well-written and characterized, an old favorite that I actually find needing to reread to give you more detail, but I can promise it’s good.

Year One by peroxidepest17. [oneshot, short] Lessons Zuko learns in his first year being Fire Lord. I really like explorations of Zuko’s journey as Fire Lord and this is a lovely little window into that.

Soft by PenPistola. [oneshot, short] Zuko and Toph bonding after the Ember Island Players. Short and sweet.

The New Phoenix King by JoeMerl. [oneshot, short] Fire Lord Zuko is overthrown, and no one but him is bothered at all. In fact they help. Hilarious crack.

First Name Basis by JoeMerl. [oneshot, short] There’s some popular posts going around Tumblr lately about Zuko not knowing the Gaang’s names, but this fic did it first back in 2008. As amusing as you’d expect.

Male Bonding by glamaphonic. [oneshot, short] The original ‘Zuko and Sokka bond and are also dumb idiot boys’ fic. Katara is permanently rolling her eyes.

it’s not the waking, it’s the rising by isamagicdragon, thegracious [ongoing, series, medium] Azulon tells Ozai to kill Azula instead of Zuko, which leads to heartwrenching fire sibs adventure. I haven’t caught up on the last chapter yet but god is it fantastic and also just a really interesting and new perspective on what could have happened.

Doe-Eyed by Anonymous. [complete, medium] Zuko is a baby, Azula is a loving big sister. More fire sibs and a great exploration on Azula’s POV of turning against Ozai.

kintsugi by discordiansamba. [ongoing, series, long] Zuko doesn’t have Iroh after being banished, and winds up hired as a guard to protect the frail Beifong daughter. Fantastic preseries Zuko+Toph found family fic.

Legacies by WildInkling. [ongoing, medium] Far in the future, a historian studies the journal of Fire Lord Zuko. Also, he was secretly a famous author but no one knows. A funny and poignant outsider POV.

#UndercoverZuko series by naggeluide. [complete, series, short] A completely cracky concept written straight enough to be actually quite touching in parts, but also just really funny. Zuko goes Undercover Boss on his ship pre-series.

Avatar Ficlets by JaggedCliffs. [series, oneshots, short] An ongoing series of disconnected oneshots, mostly post-canon and mostly Zuko-centric. Some a pretty fun, one is a great view on Zuko and lightningbending, all worth the read (and follow for when more come out).

The Blind Leading the Blue by BrusselsSprout. [ongoing, medium] An epic Zuko and Toph field trip set in S2. I love them and this.

half in the shadows, half burned in flames by r_astra. [oneshot, short] Iroh dies, Zuko gets caught on the Day of Black Sun, everything ends up all right but damn does it hurt getting there.

A Tale of Earth and Fire by chiiyo86. [complete, medium] Zuko and Toph are married for Politics in a FN Wins AU, and follows them slowly bonding as friends to beginning a revolution. They’re married but it’s not romantic, just some good friendship.

Eight Principles of Yong by psocoptera. [oneshot, short] An exploration of immediate post-show FN politics (sort of), calligraphy, and Zuko. Also has some lovely non-fighting firebending; I always love when people explore other uses of bending.

Healing Properties of Cinder Sage by Dawen. [oneshot, short] Zuko gets very sick in the Western Air Temple. Some good interaction when he’s new to the Gaang, and Toph+Zuko friendship.

We Ourselves Must Walk The Path by WinterSky101. [complete, medium] The Gaang agrees to make Zuko their prisoner in the WAT. Speaking of new-to-the-Gaang, tension, this fic has plenty of it, and also features some good Toph and Zuko.

Frozen by Aris Merquoni. [oneshot, medium] Zuko is captured in the NWT. Some politics, lots of angst, and eventually, healing. Also actually makes me somewhat like Hahn? Incredibly enough.

Reluctant Hero by PAW_07. [ongoing, long] Avatar!Zuko fic. I got to beta it way back when for a little while before I got too busy, and have always been a huge fan of this fic. Great concept, one of the best executions of it I’ve seen, and also one of the first. Definitely read this.

Morality Chain by Pureauthor. [abandoned, long] Azula and Zuko were always on each other’s side; how this changes canon. I love this concept and would happily read a lot more fics with it (please guys, I need more fire sibs).

A viper-lizard’s tales series by Yumi_Take. [ongoing, long] The world needs more of Zuko adopting pets and small children, and those are just facts. This only has one of the two, but it’s a EK baby! Jet plays a big role in this fic as well, a weird kind of uncle-ish to the baby/friend/murderer Zuko needs to watch closely and hold back kind of thing.

(life happens) wherever you are by howlikeagod. [ongoing, long] Katara doesn’t find Zuko and Iroh in the teashop, and canon takes a sharp left turn. Excellent Gaang fic.

The Best Path series by EudociaCovert. [series, ongoing, long] Zuko meets Jet in ‘Zuko Alone’ and winds up getting claimed as theirs by the remaining Freedom Fighters. Really really well-written, I got quite emotional over some scenes.

Shippy Zuko fic

Balm by Thyme In Her Eyes. [Maiko, oneshot, short] A sweet little fic about Mai’s thoughts on Zuko’s lightning scar.

The Black Games by Mrs. Pettyfer. [Zutara, complete, long] Hunger Games-esque AU. It’s the first in a series, and I lost interest after this one but I remember enjoying the fic and it was more personal preference rather than a drop in quality that had me leaving.

Lie To Me by Inkcharm. [Toko, oneshot, short] I’m not actually a fan of this pairing romatically (at least until years down the line), but this little fic of Toph and Zuko bonding through lying to one another is sweet. I choose to ignore the more shippy parts and enjoyed it.

Zutara? What the heck is that? by Ryxl. [Zutara, oneshot, short] Complete crack, have a good sense of humor and I think you will enjoy. Just the mental image of the Gaang finding a Zutara propaganda flyer had me chuckling.

The Three Chores series (1, 2, 3) by Fandomme. [Zutara, threeshot, short] Zuko and Katara slowly bond as he helps with chores. I will admit it’s been years and I barely remember this, but what I do recall is lovely and I always appreciate people lightening Katara’s load.

read the inscription by suzukiblu. [Zuko/Song, complete, series, medium] When Zuko is banished, he is left alone in the Earth Kingdom to fend for himself. Very touching, and I love Song in this.

Hooked by TGP. [Jetko, complete, long] A classic ‘Jet didn’t see Iroh warming his tea’ fic. They’re almost all this premise but so many well-written and very long ones. 

Something To Hold Onto by Wildgoosery. [Jetko, complete, long] The EK fell and Li stayed to fight with the Freedom Fighters to protect the city during its foreign rule. Jet didn’t see the tea fic that goes very AU from canon.

Foxfire by Rahar_Moonfire. [Jetko, ongoing, long] Zuko loses his memories Jetko fic, but with heavy spirit influence and lovable EK OCs, both of which I adore and should be in far more fics.

Once Upon A Teashop by anaer. [Zukka, Jetko, ongoing, long] Cracky Ba Sing Se AU that gets gradually more and more serious. Jet hits on Zuko a lot and Sokka gets a job in the teashop to keep an eye on both of them. Endgame Zukka but heavy Jetko, and both pairings are handled pretty well, not a love triangle that makes me too mad, although as always bear in mind Jet’s messed up. 

Names by TGP. [Jetko, complete, long] I feel like I’m forgetting some more excellent Amnesia!Zuko fics, but this is one I do know of. To be honest I don’t remember it super well because it may be mixed up with other Jetko/amnesia fics in my mind, but I think it was really good. I’ll have to reread myself.

Epistles by Lady_of_the_Flowers. [Zukka, ongoing, long] I love epistolary fic and I love Zuko and Sokka bonding earlier in canon. I will be honest I haven’t read this in a long time and been updating all the while, but the premise alone (Zuko and Sokka become messenger-hawk-pals in S1 and then fall in love) is fantastic. 

Ozymandias, King of Kings by Think_of_a_Wonderful_Thought. [Zukka, ongoing, long] Zuko rebels earlier and actually is sent to the mines, until he is ‘rescued’ by the Water Tribe. Dark but getting lighter over time, and more reluctant-to-rule Zuko which always wrenches my heartstrings. I prefer super loyal and dutiful to his people Zuko but this trope always makes me feel things.

Crossovers

Fallen Drops of Fire by Chasmfiend. [Fullmetal Alchemist, ongoing] Young Azula and Zuko somehow appear in Amestris, and encounter Roy Mustang. I adore the fire sibs, and their relationship in this strange situation is the star of this fic for me, but it’s also fun seeing the FMA perspective of these two.

The Dragon-King’s Temple by Kryal. [Stargate SG-1, long, complete] The best crossover fic out there. Zuko and Toph get stranded on the other side of a Stargate. I don’t know anything about SG-1 but it didn’t matter, the fic was fantastic, they were badasses, it explored language and culture from an outside perspective, and it was just a ton of fun. Must-read.

Other character fic

Loyalty by Julia451. [oneshot, short] The ship captain didn’t misspeak when he called Iroh and Zuko “prisoners” in the start of S2. A lovely look at a nameless character, giving depth to a small moment and humanity to a FN soldier which I always love.

The Only One by HarlowR. [oneshot, short] An excellent exploration of Azula’s mindset regarding Zuko, her desperate need to be loved and jealousy of him matching his own. I think Azula was one of the greatest tragedies of the show, and this fic makes me feel it.

Blood by theAsh0. [oneshot, short] Katara-centric thinkpiece on bloodbending and healing. Dark but really interesting.

Touch and Go by Cadence. [oneshot, short] After Iroh’s struck by lightning, Toph doesn’t let Zuko drive them all away. A momentary alliance and the seeds of friendship. More Toph-focused but still heavy on the whole Gaang.

Shortcomings by Menamebephil. [oneshot, short] Iroh thoughts during his imprisonment, on the theme of mistakes. I love this man and don’t understand why I am so drawn to fic about him that makes me sad.

Watch And Review, Please by Becca Stareyes. [oneshot, short] The Ember Island Players receive some constructive criticism... sort of. Funny and quick.

Azula Redemption Trilogy (1, 2, 3) by Mistress of Sarcasm. [threeshot, short] Second person and deeply introspective, three short little fics delving into Azula’s head and bringing her closer to redemption.

Echoing Refrains by catie_writes_things. [oneshot, short] I really like nuanced explorations of the whole FN royal family. It’s perfectly fine to write Ozai as pure evil bastard, but exploring  what might have been or how he got there, or even as in this fic his talent for music being inherited by Zuko is really interesting too. Iroh-centric.

our curse by ohmygodwhy, and the last dragon by thesometimeswarrior. [twoshot, complete, short] Stay away if you don’t like to cry. In the first Zuko learns Ozai is executing Iroh, and isn’t able to stop it; the second is even worse because it’s Iroh’s POV. I put this in the other characters section because honestly I adore the second fic even more than the first, but they are both fantastically written and will hurt you a very great deal.

Finally, I’m not quite bold enough to put my own fic on a reclist, but just shameless enough to mention I’ve written a few Avatar fics I quite like if anyone feels the desire to check them out on my AO3. ;) But seriously give love to all the rest of these, they deserve it. (And as I said, there’s lots more excellent stuff, this fandom is so prolific and well-written!)