#and it's only getting more dicey out there as it gets later

[haihaihaitani]

Happy Wife, Happy Life ~ *Shuji Hanma*

Summary: Shuji loves you so much he would do anything for you. And that means not bleeding on your freshly cleaned carpets.

Pairing: Shuji Hanma X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffyish Oneshot

Word Count: 1429

Warning: Swearing, mentions blood

Masterlist

When you first met Shuji, you fell in love hard and fast. He was wild, crazy, and completely free. He knew what he wanted and he wanted you. He treated you like you were the only girl in the world for him. And sure you may have catered to his every whim, but he paid you back in kind, making you feel loved and wanted. 

When he asked you to marry him a couple years later, there was no doubt in your mind regarding your decision. You said yes without the slightest hint of hesitation. It was an extravagant and beautiful affair, with all of Bonten in attendance. You said your vows a few feet off the floor and enjoyed the party of the century with the rest of your friends.

Now, you may not be the best wife in the world, you certainly did try. You were attentive and loving, doing everything in your power to make sure the days went by smoothly. It was easier said than done, considering how high up in Bonten Shuji was. He was either coming home bloody and bruised or he wasn't coming home at all. His temper and wild ways often got the better of him, and you found yourself having to pull him back from the edge too many times to count. Still, you wouldn't trade the life you built together for the world.

Gang life never scared you. In fact, you embraced it, if not for Shuji's sake, but also because you were both feared and respected. You took the role of a vice executive's wife very seriously. You made connections with other high ranking women in the underworld that served as useful links for Bonten. You even managed to get them a loophole with the police and judicial system, through subtle bribes of food and high class trinkets. In return for lending a helping hand with your charm, they gave you a hefty allowance to use for whatever you desired and protection from any and all enemies. You were truly living your best life.

Your pride and joy, besides Shuji, had to be your estate. When you both were pulling in over a million per payload, you asked Shuji to move out of the city. He agreed as long as the two of you still had a penthouse in case things became dicey and the estate needed to be forfeited. You also asked if you could be the one who built and decorated the place, which he also agreed to. Every step of creating the mansion of your dreams was carefully executed with excruciating detail. But you loved every second of it. The estate served as a physical monument of the life you and Shuji made for yourselves. It had to be perfect. And it was absolutely perfect in your eyes when you completed it. You were also more than pleased when Shuji told you how much he loved what you did with the place. The night you both moved in, each room was christened at the insistence of your husband, and who were you to deny him?

From then on, if you were doing work in the city, you were at the estate. Sure, Shuji hired staff to help with the upkeep, but you also pitched in to make sure everything was in tip top shape. At least once a week you hosted Bonten and their relations at the estate to show it off. You were truly proud of all the craftsmanship and love you poured into this estate and no one was going to ruin it or take it away from you.

One day, you were surveying a new shipment of furniture for the sunroom, as spring was almost here. Every other year, Shuji gave you a stipend to change out the furniture so you could keep up with the trends. It was at your insistence that you donated the old furniture, which took some convincing but he eventually conceded. As you helped move the last couch and end table into the sunroom, you heard the boisterous voice of your husband of five years bounce down the hall.

"Shuji? Are you home?" You called out to him.

"Doll! Where are you?" He yelled back. You rolled your eyes before finding him in the front room. 

You smiled and walked into his open arms. He peppered your face with questions as you said, "You're home early."

"Not really. I have to head out soon with the guys." It was then that you realized Sanzu, the Haitani brothers, and Hajime were standing behind him.

Flashing them a sweet smile, you nodded. "Hello boys. How have you been?"

"Honestly, we've been better." Ran scowled. "We got some punks who are encroaching on our territory and we're going to go teach them a lesson tonight."

You frowned at his words and pulled away from Shuji's relentless kisses. You fixed him with a harsh glare. "What do you mean you're going to teach them a lesson? Are you doing something you shouldn't tonight, Shuji?"

He winced as you used his name. "Ah, c'mon, doll. It's nothing that serious. We're just going to rough them up a little, remind them who they're messing with. It'll be a quick little operation. In and out. I'll be back before you're asleep and then the two of us can have a little fun tonight..."

You rolled your eyes and slapped his shoulder. "Leave the innuendos for when we're alone, got it?"

"Whatever you say, doll."

You then turned back to the other members of Bonten. "Is what my dear husband telling me true? Did Mikey order this little operation?"

Sanzu gave a wicked grin as he nodded. "Yep! It was on Mikey's orders that we carry this intimidation operation out. It's going to be so much fun! I haven't gotten to fight anyone in like forever!"

"You fought with some of the new hires last week." Rindou muttered.

"Yeah, but I had to hold back with them, or else they'd be no use to us. This time, I get to really let loose! And if someone dies, well, it's their fault for being so weak."

Your eyes widened and you ripped yourself out of Shuji's grasp, earning a pathetic whine from him. You pointed an accusing finger at him. "You are not going to murder anyone tonight! I just got the carpets clean! Plus I have new furniture in the sunroom! If any of you get so much as a speck of blood on anything in my house, I swear I will kill you all myself with your own guns and make it look like a suicide!"

Shuji didn't even flinch at your threat. Instead, he gave a wide, adoring grin. He glanced over his shoulders at the other members of Bonten. "Alright men, you heard the wife. No murder tonight."

"Ah what?" Sanzu whined. "But I really want to!"

He lazily shook his head. "Nope. Not tonight. Besides, I also don't want any blood in this house either. It's too messy and a bitch to clean up."

"You didn't seem that concerned two months ago." Hajime gave a smirk, knowing he said something that was going to get Shuji in trouble.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You harshly grabbed your husband's tie. "Did you get blood in my house when I wasn't here two weeks ago? I swear if you did-"

"Jeez woman." His smooth voice stopped you, as he continued to grin at you. "I thought you said to keep the innuendos for when we're alone. Keep this up and you're going to make me-"

You release his tie with a scowl. "You're disgusting."

"And you're sexy as hell when you're angry." He shook his head. "Oh, we are so having fun when I get home tonight."

You scoffed and folded your arms over your chest. You refused to show him how hot and bothered you were getting. "You have your mission from Mikey to carry out. You all should be heading out. Get out of my house and don't come back if you're all covered in blood."

"Will do, boss lady." Ran gave you a mock salute before ushering the other members out of the estate.

Shuji, on the other hand, lingered for a moment. He gave you a seductive wink. "Since I can't be covered in blood when I get back, I want you in that little red number I love when I get back."

"We'll see." You snapped, though you already knew what you were changing into when he left.

#Tokyo Revengers #Tokyo Revengers Fanfiction #Tokyo Revengers Oneshot #Anime #Anime Fanfiction #Anime Oneshot #Bonten #Shuji Hanma #Shuji Hanma X Reader #Shuji Hanma Fanfiction #Shuji Hanma Oneshot #Shuji Hanma Fluff #Shuji #Shuji X Reader #Shuji Fanfiction #Shuji Oneshot #Shuji Fluff #Married #Married AU #Oneshot #Fluff #Angst

[famewolf]

apparently there's been multiple car accidents on the hill out of the valley so ... I guess it was a good idea to call it quits when I did

#[static] #and it's only getting more dicey out there as it gets later #im gonna turn off my electronics and notifications and just try and chill out my poor brain is fried atm

[deadsetobsessions]

“Tim. Timmy. Ancients, kid, what are you doing?!”

Danny Phantom smacked away the instinctual terror of seeing an eight year old dangling out of a third story window.

“I gotta go take pictures of Batman and Robin! They’re out tonight!”

Danny thought that his barely healed vivisection wound might bust open from the sheer stress.

“Setting aside how you even know the patrol schedule of honest to god vigilantes, why’d you choose the window? The house is literally empty, just walk out the front door, for Ancient’s sake.”

Tim paused, a motion Danny was overwhelmingly thankful for, and blinked sheepishly.

“Um… for the aesthetic?”

Danny allowed the silence to settle between them before dropping his head into his waiting hands. Tim panicked.

“You- you can’t stop me!”

And yeah, Danny really can’t. In the months he’s been mooching off of the Drakes (not that they’ll notice), Danny’s learned that Tim Drake is nothing but relentless in the pursuit of whatever he sets his mind on. Whether thet might be putting hot chocolate in his cereal (which Danny doesn’t actually mind) or, apparently, stalking a pair of vigilantes.

He wanted to hack into the library cameras? Danny had to hover just to make sure the kid didn’t get caught after arguing for an hour about it.

He walked out of that argument with a loss, yes, but he also let Tim know that Danny cared about him. Danny also walked out of that argument with a new hatred for Janet and Jack Drake and his mind (just as diabolical as Tim’s) whirring with plans to haunt them.

Tim is never ever introducing his new little brother to Tucker. Ever.

“Okay. I don’t want to see you take unnecessary risks, but I’m also aware that I can’t really stop you. So. I’ll go with you.”

Maybe this is like… Tim’s obsession? When he put it that way, Danny lost the fight to prevent this tiny kid from what clearly is the only joy in his poor life.

“But…!” Tim’s eyes darted to Danny’s chest, the vivisection scars still fresh in his mind.

“They’re healed.” Danny pulled his dumbass little brother off the window sill, core settling as Tim follows willingly. “I’ll make us invisible and fly with you behind Batman and Robin so you can get even better shots. You can’t make any noise, though. That camera got a shutter sound, right?”

“Yeah!” Tim’s face brightened and Danny melted. He shoved a bottle of the (incredibly stinky but helpful in a pinch) ecto contaminated tap water into a backpack, along with some snacks and a blanket for when Tim gets cold. Danny’ll be fine, he’s got a Space Core. The cold his kind of his thing.

“Cool. We’ll stay out of earshot. If things starts to get too dicey, we’re heading home, okay?”

“Okay!” The look Tim shot him is full of trust and adoration and it makes Danny’s human heart squeeze painfully. “C’mon! I don’t want to be late!”

“We need to talk about your stalking tendencies later,” Danny said fondly.

“I’m not stalking them! I’m observing them!”

“Uh-huh,” Danny drawled, picking Tim up and making them intangible and invisible. “They’re not a bird observatory and also, even the birds in the observatory knows they’re being watched. Batman and Robin clearly doesn’t.”

Danny felt more than saw Tim’s pout.

He laughs as they fly just below the Gotham-brand of toxic smog. He waves to the City’s Spirit as Tim cranes his head around to catch sight of Batman and Robin.

“There!”

Danny obliged. With Danny’s flight, Tim got much better- much closer- photos than he would have originally.

Danny hung back as the pair of vigilantes swooped down to take care of a mugging.

“Wanna mess with them?” He grinned down at his little brother, canines glinting.

Tim looked up at him, admiration and mischievousness in his gaze. “Yes.”

Gotham parted her clouds in response to their glee.

——

Dick Grayson, AKA Robin, finally understood why criminals are so creeped out by him.

Other than the whole flippy child kicking grown people’s asses and winning thing, obviously (that, and Batman loomed menacingly behind him everytime a criminal even looked at Robin wrong).

Batman had picked up on it first, but the for entirety of their patrol, they kept hearing eerie little giggles and laughter. Haunting them. Never distracting. But persistent. And so creepy. He got goosebumps.

“B, I wanna go home.”

“Hm.” That’s a resounding yes if Dick’s ever heard one.

Maybe Alfred can chase away the giggles and chuckles.

Robin shudders and follows the Bat home.

——

Danny lowered the temperature as he held Tim up near Batman’s cowl so his brother could giggle menacingly. He knew for a fact that any recording device would get completely cram led by the sheer output of ambient ectoplasm he’s emitting. Plus, it freaked Robin out and raised the hairs on the back of the vigilantes’ heads. He tones it down when he noticed Tim rubbing his hands together.

He let out a quiet laugh, enjoying the flight with his brother in his arm and the light of the stars (thanks, Gotham) at his back.

——

Danny: oh, this kid’s got an Obsession, gotta let him do it safely, he’s a liminal from all that tap water

Danny: *forgets Tim isn’t a ghost nor is he from Amity and is therefore extremely breakable*

——

Danny and Tim: doing crime is a good bonding activity

Batman and Robin, who wants to say no it isn’t but they’re literally a pair of illegal vigilantes:

——

Dick as Robin: *cackles*

Tim, learning habits from stalking them: *giggles*

Gotham Criminals: *fear*

#danny phantom #bamf danny phantom #dick grayson #tim drake is a menace #tim drake #baby tim drake #Tim Drake is a little shit #Danny Phantom is a little shit #they’re messing with the bats #and getting away with it #inspired by dick’s iconic Robin cackle #that creepy lil shit #i love them your honor #they’re brothers your honor #Gotham’s F grade tap water #thanks scarecrow #Gotham’s tap water #dc x dp #dp x dc

[pedrointofolklore]

This is me trying

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel hated you. he hated the risks you took, the danger you put yourself in, the total lack of value you had for your own life. he hated how much he worried about you. click here for part two.

warnings: detailed depictions of depression, heavily implied suicidal ideation, slight violence, angst with a sprinkle of fluff, no explicit smut but it does get very suggestive (minors do not interact), minor character death, enemies to lovers, poor communication, misunderstandings, these fools don’t know how to act, joel is an asshole but then he’s sweet, brief mention of drug use, lots of swearing, age gap (unspecified), no use of y/n, boston era/ellie era.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: hey y’all. i just wanted to thank everyone who supported my last story rosebud (here’s a link if you want to read it). this story is a lot different and a lot sadder. i got the title from my favourite pop girlie taylor alison swift.

Joel hated you. It had to be his worst kept secret.

You hadn’t done anything to him. You used to think about it constantly, desperate to know what his reason was for despising you like he did, but you eventually accepted that he didn’t need a reason. He just didn’t like you. 

Joel wasn’t particularly likeable himself. He was rude and intimidating and one of the most morally bankrupt people you’d ever met, but you didn’t hate him the way he hated you. You were Tess’s lackey—Joel tolerated you, and you supposed he wasn’t obligated to do any more than that. Although, he didn’t do it very well.

You’d existed in each other’s orbit in the QZ for a while, and finally met one night in the boarded-up old mall when you’d gotten to a stash of painkillers just before them. Joel wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot you between the eyes if Tess hadn’t been there.

Tess saw something in you—not a friend, not a life worth sparing by virtue of humanity; a business investment.

And it was a smart investment. You were young, agile and clever, incredible at slipping by unnoticed and gathering information. You knew all the best routes, the best times to take them, and you could swindle anyone out of their rations just by batting your eyelashes. You were willing to take the lead, to be the first one in and out to make sure the coast was clear.

It wasn’t the threat of death or the promise of mercy that made you join them—it was the sense of purpose it gave you.

Joel was adamantly against it. Things worked fine the way they did them, and he saw no reason to add another person into it.

“Don’t need to fix something that ain’t broken,” was how he’d put it.

You didn’t dispute that. Joel and Tess had survived for years, and they were clearly more than capable of getting the job done, but what you lacked in experience, you made up for in stealth and speed—something their aging knees struggled with.

Tess convinced Joel, which you soon found out she was very good at. You also found out that his compliance didn’t mean hiding his resentment.

He thought you were a careless, impulsive loose cannon, and he’d told you so after a particularly dicey deal with a particularly dicey FEDRA agent.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed one of these days.” He followed you into your apartment uninvited. Tess made him walk you home, and you were sure he only did it because he wanted to berate you.

“Why do you care?” you asked, tossing your keys onto the counter. They slid off and hit the floor.

“You’re with us,” Joel replied. “You'll get us killed.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes—you knew that infuriated him. “Am I on crack or have you not doubled your profits since I showed up?”

“I think you’re dangerous,” Joel said, ignoring you. “Always sneakin’ around, goin’ places you shouldn’t, playin’ mind games with FEDRA. Your luck’s gonna run out sooner or later, and I just hope I’m not around when it does.”

Your face burned with red-hot anger as you tried to fight the stinging in your eyes and the blurring of your vision, but you were too far gone. The tears fell, and they were ceaseless. You felt pathetic, but you knew this would happen. You didn’t often cry from sadness or pain, but anger always managed to bring it out in you.

“Who the fuck are you to tell me that?” you hissed. “You’re saying you don’t sneak around? You’ve never scammed anyone? You’re a smuggler, Joel! Be fucking real with me.”

“It’s different,” he said, clenching his jaw.

“Why, because you’re older? Because you have more experience?”

“‘Cause I don’t think I’m fuckin’ special.”

If his words were the dagger, the pure contempt in his tone was what plunged it into your stomach, twisted it, and left a gaping hole for all of your despair to come pouring out of, leaving behind a puddle of melancholia for him to gaze at in all its miserable glory.

It was the only time you might have hated Joel as much as he hated you. Working with him and Tess wasn’t perfect, but it was all you had, and now he’d managed to make it all meaningless. Your help wasn’t helping.

“Fuck you, Joel,” you spat.

You should have quit then, and you thought about it. After pounding your fists into Joel’s chest and screaming at him to get the fuck out of your apartment, you sunk down onto the floor and cried. You cried until you ran out of tears and were left with a nothing but a throbbing headache. You took a pill, passed out, and woke up to you discover that you’d lost the energy to really care about any of it.

You didn’t quit. If anything, you became even more audacious, but you never confused it with courage or bravery. Bravery was perseverance in the face of terror. Joel and Tess were brave. You weren’t like them.

Joel laid off after that. He wasn’t anything close to nice, but whatever animosity he held towards you was only ever expressed as quiet seething, and you could live with that.

Any fulfilment you got out of working with Joel and Tess dissolved, but for what it was, it still worked.

Until it didn’t.

Tess was dead. The buffer between you and Joel was gone, and you had no choice but to work together and get the immune girl to Colorado.

You wondered if there was a silver-lining in this wreckage. You thought that circumstance might force Joel to finally get along with you, and so you did the one thing you never did—you tried. You tried to help him, tried to speak to him like he was someone you actually wanted to speak to, tried to rein in some of your more annoying traits so you wouldn’t get on his nerves.

None of it worked. All you could get out of Joel seemed to be irritated mumbles and blank stares, and you couldn’t even blame him after what happened to Tess.

You never really knew if Tess actually gave a shit about you, or if she only ever cared about having an extra pair of hands around. Either way, you cared about her.

So, once again, you tried. When Joel and Ellie were sleeping—or at least pretending to—you walked down to the stream and tried to cry for her, but you couldn’t muster the tears. You even tried to get angry, mentally cuss her out for leaving you behind, but your eyes were dry.

You stared into the water, gazing at the way it sparkled in the starlight, and thought that the world didn’t deserve such a pretty sight. You couldn’t cry, but a deep sadness overtook you, weighing you down like lead.

Joel didn’t hate you.

He just hated how impulsive and reckless you were. He hated that you were smart, intuitive, and so maddeningly beautiful. He hated the risks you took, the danger you put yourself in, the total lack of value you had for your own life. He hated how much he worried about you.

There was a time he had disliked you. He used to think it was arrogance—that you truly believed you were so special that you could get away with anything. It was when he called you out on it that he realised how wrong he was.

Your reaction was frightening. You cried and screamed at him, pushed him out of your space. He didn’t know you were capable of such a strong display of emotion, but he’d struck a nerve, and those were the repercussions.

He recalled how the blows to his chest didn’t hurt, like there was no force behind them. You weren’t weak at all, you just couldn’t find the willpower to really hurt him. He wished you had hurt him. Maybe getting it out of your system would have helped. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to feel so guilty.

It became so obvious to him what was happening, and he felt like an idiot for not understanding it sooner. It wasn’t that you thought you were special, or immune to the consequences—you just didn’t care what happened to you.

Now Tess was gone, and he had this horrible feeling that he was going to lose you too.

His way of dealing with it was to push you away even more. He told himself it would make things easier when you inevitably left him.

Things came to a head one night after the three of you left Lincoln. Joel had been driving all day, and he would be doing it again the next day. He was in desperate need of sleep, but as he stared out into the eerie darkness of the woods, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible would happen if he didn’t stay awake.

He heard the rustling of a sleeping bag sometime after midnight. He thought it was you just rolling over in your sleep—something you often did—but then he heard the faint sound of dead leaves crunching under feet, and you were by his side a moment later.

“What are you doing, Joel?” you asked in a soft, sleepy voice that made his chest ache.

“Keepin’ watch,” he replied bluntly.

“But you’re driving tomorrow,” you said. “You need sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’ve slept, so I can take over,” you offered.

“I just told you I’m fine.”

“I’m just trying to help—”

“I don’t need your fucking help.”

You backed off, hanging your head in shame, and he instantly felt horrible—you were being nice to him and he was still being a complete asshole.

Joel tried to tear his gaze away from you. He wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening, that he hadn’t just done that, but his eyes stayed on you. He watched the shame dissolve and replace itself with indignation. You pulled your head up and glared at him with a fire in your eyes that threatened to burn right through him.

“I get it, okay? I’m sorry.”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“I never meant for you to get stuck with me. I know it’s your worst fucking nightmare. If I could switch places with Tess—“

“Stop.” He wouldn’t hear that. He couldn’t. It would kill him. “That’s not—I’m not thinkin’ that. I’m glad you’re here, understand? I need you with me.”

You let out a bitter laugh. The sound hit his ears like a gunshot. “You just told me you didn’t. All you’ve done—all you’ve ever done—is act like I’m a fucking waste of space.”

Joel’s mouth when dry, his heart dropped to his stomach, and he thought he might vomit. It shouldn’t have shocked him like it did, but hearing you say it made him sick. He put the gun he’d been clutching down on the ground, disarming himself in more ways than one. “I don’t think that…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just—fuck—I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Are you gonna leave?”

“Leave this mission or this mortal coil?"

“Either, I guess.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Your voice was just a whisper, and it felt like you were ripping Joel’s heart out and crushing it in your hands.

Fuck no, he didn’t want you to leave, and that was what scared him the most; feeling attached to someone so detached (and yes, he was a hypocrite). He wouldn’t be able to take it if he woke up one day and you were gone.

But he couldn’t keep doing this to you. It was selfish and cowardly and it just made everything worse. He made everything worse.

“I can’t do this without you,” he told you. He hadn’t known how true it was until he said it.

“Okay.”

“I’m serious.” He felt suddenly impassioned. “You can’t…if you…just don’t. Promise me you won’t.” He couldn’t say it, couldn’t let the words out of his mouth and into the universe. You both knew what he meant.

“I promise,” you said. You sounded oddly tranquil, but Joel was destroyed, even though he knew he didn’t have the right to be—this was entirely his fault.

“Can you let me keep watch so you can get some sleep?” you asked again.

He shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Just need to know where you are.”

You stared at him, eyes wide and glossy, and for a second he thought you might start crying. Before he could think of something to do or say, your hands were on either side of his face, pulling him down into an urgent kiss.

He didn’t know what was happening, what you were thinking, or what he was thinking, but it didn’t matter, he just knew he needed to kiss you back. One of his hands found your waist while the other splayed out across your back, pulling you flush against him.

It was nowhere near sweet. It was intense and unyielding—a frantic clashing of teeth and bruising of lips. It was intoxicating, earth-shattering, but felt so right, like it was always meant to happen—or needed to happen.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, somehow bringing him impossibly closer to you. You hiked a leg up around his hip and tugged his pelvis forward. He ran a hand down from your waist, brushing it over your ass and gripping your thigh.

You rolled your hips into his, eliciting a deep, involuntary groan from him. He was painfully hard. He knew he would regret this, but he set your leg down and managed to tear his mouth away from yours. 

He missed the feeling immediately, and he didn’t have the self-control to pull away completely. His hands were still on you, pressing you against him. You looked so pretty and ruined gazing back at him; breathless and flustered with pink, swollen lips.

Fuck.

You had just kissed Joel Miller, the man you hated. 

You didn’t hate him.

You kissed the man who hated you.

He didn’t hate you.

You kissed the only person you had left. You kissed him even though it made no sense. You kissed him because you wanted to.

You started it, but then he stopped it. His eyes were dark, his face was flushed, and the bulge in his jeans was not going away. He looked like he was in pain, struggling with his own conscience.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be sorry.” He grinned softly and reached a hand up to tangle in your hair. It was an unexpectedly sweet gesture. “I liked it.”

Your heart melted. He was so lovely, so dear. You never imagined in your wildest dreams that Joel Miller could be like this.

“Just don’t wanna take advantage,” he said.

“You’re not. I kissed you,” you reminded him.

“I know, but you're upset, and you don’t like me much, and you’re tired. Don’t want you doing anything you don’t actually wanna do.”

You did want it, but you were also overwhelmed and exhausted, and more importantly, it would have been a majorly fucked up thing to do with a 14 year old sleeping 20 feet away.

“But if you still want it later”—he gave you another chaste kiss—“you can have it.”

You giggled, kissing him one more time. You didn’t know when you'd be able to again.

His gentle smile faded, and he looked into your eyes with devastating sincerity. “I got you now, okay?”

“I know, Joel.”

“Do you have me?” he asked.

“I’m trying.” You hoped that would be enough, because it was all you had.

“That’s all I need, sweetheart.”

a/n: so i wrote most of this when i was sick with the flu and i fully intended for it to be a one-shot, but i love this dynamic and i’m thinking of exploring it further. let me know if y’all would be interested in seeing more of these two. (edit: this a/n is now redundant bc i did in fact write the sequel).

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #the last of us #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction

[notroosterbradshaw]

Uncle Brooster

A family party to celebrate Viper’s birthday brings the fluffiest of fluff with a side of 18+ NSFW slow smut for Rooster and our reader. 8.5k words.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

Thank you @imjess-themess​ and @callsign-phoenix​​ for beta’ing - I truly appreciate it! Was hard to do this re-write justice, so hopefully, you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments are highly encouraged and give me life xx

You had been stuck in traffic for at least four hours to this point. You’d left LA a little later than you should have with a hangover a little worse than it should have been, the city made you pay more than deserved. Travelling on a Saturday was a dicey decision at best and you tapped the steering wheel with the beat of a song you’d heard at least three times on different stations. Silence it is, with the occasional beeping from other aggravated drivers in the same predicament. 

It was well after mid-afternoon when you arrived at your grandparents but broke into a small grin when you saw that all too familiar blue Bronco parked a few houses down. He didn’t have to arrive without you, but he did, and it warmed your heart that Rooster felt comfortable enough to go to your family’s events stag even when you were running terribly late. Grabbing the champagne you’d picked up a few blocks earlier because even when it’s family, it’s still rude to turn up empty-handed, you popped out of the car as your nephew, Oscar, zoomed past you on his scooter.

“Don’t let Daddy catch me!” he exclaimed as Arron, your brother-in-law, raced around the side of the house after him. He smiled a friendly hello, roaring after Oscar. Ducking back towards the car to avoid becoming roadkill, you waited, protecting the chilled French beverages in each hand. Priorities on point always.

Wandering into the house, you were greeted by Nana with hugs and smiles. If you were anything like her, with her vivacity at 90, life would be good, you realised. “We didn’t think you’d get here. Bradley said you were stuck in traffic. Why did you go to LA?” she demanded.

“I had a birthday party for an old college friend. I probably should have driven back last night. At least I wouldn’t have been so late...” you grumbled, and would be in less of a puss after hours of containing your road rage. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now. Why didn’t Bradley go with you?” she frowned.

“To quote him, ‘I’ll die before I go to a club in LA’. ‘Please don’t make me go to a club in LA’. ‘I will do anything to get out of going to a club in LA’. So, he knocked out a wall in the bathroom instead. He said it was cathartic,” you shrugged. “Dude loves demolishing stuff, Nana. What can I say?”

“Could have been a nice getaway for you both,” she tried.

“You know he’s happy at home,” you reminded her. “That kinda scene is not for him.”

“Maybe you could learn something from him.”

“Probably, Nana,” you bit back your smile.

“There’s plenty of food outside. Go say happy birthday to your grandpa,” she ushered you out but not before she stopped you again, helping you smooth a crease on your sundress. “Can't half tell you’ve been in the car for hours,” she huffed. “This is beautiful, you look divine.”

It was Rooster’s favourite sundress and you figured the least you could do today and wear something easy on his eyes. It made you feel pretty sexy, knowing he liked it so much and only got brought out once before for a dinner date in your early dating days when he fell in love with it.

“Where’s Grandpa?”

She threw her hands in the air. “Holding court, where else?”

Holding court, with his friends and re-telling old war stories no less. Heading outside, you didn’t immediately spot Rooster but found Grandpa and made your way through your family and his lifelong co-workers and friends, stopping and being stopped as your past people before politely interrupting Grandpa to wish him a Happy Birthday.

“Here’s trouble,” Viper smiled, you were the apple of his eye. His darling granddaughter. 

“Happy birthday, sorry I’m late,” you apologised. 

“It’s okay,” he reassured you. “Rooster is here,” he clicked his tongue. 

“Grandpa, one day you’ll have to accept he’s my partner,” you said gently, putting a hand over his heart. Viper sighed, patting your hand.

“I know, but not today,” the old man smiled wickedly. “I like keeping him on his toes.”

“I know,” you rolled your eyes as he chuckled, pushing you away tenderly to continue his story. Hearing ‘Vietnam’ and ‘Mitchell’ as you wandered through the masses of guests, someone gently checked you with their hip as you passed and Rooster grinned at you… holding your six-month-old niece, Ava, in his strong arms tenderly.

Well, this was a new development.

“Hi,” he said quietly, lowering to kiss you gently, you cupped his cheek. “I missed you, sweet girl.” 

Shocked, you nodded at Ava. “Me too. I’m so sorry I’m late,” you said, extremely distracted by the sight before you. Rooster chewed his bottom lip, incredibly pleased with himself – he enjoyed rendering you speechless. It didn’t happen easily and it certainly didn’t happen often. “Stealing hearts and infants now?” you teased as he nodded, letting his grin rip wide across his tanned features, you know those warm honey-coloured eyes were dancing behind his mirrored aviators.

“Looks like it.”

“Are you okay? Do you need me to take her?” Something to distract me from looking at you with a baby, perhaps? He shook his head as Ava held his long, slender index finger in her soft hand and he watched her keenly, a little taken with her himself. She was a true beauty. Annie had told him Ava was your dead ringer as a baby, and he could almost believe it.

“I’m good,” he promised. “I’d love a beer though.”

“I think I can do that,” you told him as he smiled and turned his attention back to Ava, cooing in his deep rasp that almost made you want to cry.

Heading to the cooler, you greeted some of Grandpa’s former Top Gun students and Rooster’s superiors as you grabbed Rooster a beer and picked up the champagne bottle for yourself as Annie sidled over to you to say hello.

“Didn’t think you were ever gonna get here. How are those ovaries?” she smiled, nodding over her shoulder to Rooster who was still gently rocking a dozing Ava in his arms. “Give that man a baby, and give that man a baby now.”

“Oh, my God,” you sighed. “Make yourself useful,” you shoved Rooster’s beer and a champagne flute into her hands, popping the bottle and pouring yourself a generous glassful. “You want?”

“No, Ava will need to be fed shortly,” she replied as you took the drinks back.

“Was this your ploy?” you asked, looking back at Rooster.

Christ, was his chest broader today? Was it arms day? He did mention he went for a run on the phone earlier. He usually broke it up and used some of the free equipment near the beach if he felt particularly energetic. He looked so good. You mean, he always did. Sunglasses now in his sun-kissed curls, casual in a crisp white linen shirt untucked over a pair of khaki shorts and barefoot in the plush grass. He was not remotely interested in fashion, but just one of those people with that body that everything fit him perfectly. You groaned that you had to wait to love on him properly, without the gaze of your family and his higher-ups even if it wasn’t a workday. You were already imagining stripping him of that beautifully offensive shirt -  

“What, to see Rooster with a baby?” she joked as you gave her your attention again. Fantasizing about Bradley Bradshaw would not bode well for you at a family birthday party. Nope. You could be patient. You waited this long for him, what was another few hours? “No, I had to help Mom in the kitchen since you decided to show your face at the last minute, and he was the closest, reasonably responsible adult in the vicinity to hand her to.”

“And where was your husband during all this?” you asked, sipping your champagne.

She pointed to Arron and Oscar on the trampoline.

“I see.”

“Yeah,” she said, unamused. “I have three kids at home.”

“Hey, he’s your kid’s best friend,” you reminded her. “And that’s fucking priceless. We can’t say the same thing with our old man. Enjoy it now because one day, Oscar will be just like you and it should be terrifying for all of us to go through your teenage years again.”

Reminiscing her wild adolescent days momentarily, Annie shuddered. “If that kid is half the asshole I was, I don’t know how I’ll cope,” she laughed incredulously.

“How did Rooster react with Ava?”

Annie cackled. “Unfortunately, no ejector seats nearby for Rooster. Looked like I’d asked him to punch Grandpa.”

“Yikes,” you laughed, loudly.

“I showed him how to not drop her, but he figured it out pretty quick.”

“You just dumped her in his arms, didn’t you?”

“Threw him completely in the deep end,” she confirmed, still laughing. “He’s had her for nearly an hour though and I’ve offered numerous times to take her. He even knocked Mom back.”

“Oh, wow.”

“It’s been nice to eat and talk for once instead of being the Mom.”

“You are the Mom,” you reminded her, lightly kicking her shin. “But I know you’re so much more than that too.”

She flashed a shy smile. “Thank you.”

As nice as the familial love was, Rooster still had your undivided attention. You sipped the cool amber gold and felt yourself melt. “He looks so good,” you said to her quietly.

“We can talk about this, if you want,” Annie joked, not missing the longing in your voice. “He looks very good. A bit of a natural, to be honest. You have the dreamiest look on your face,” she teased.

“You can see what I’m looking at, right?”

“Yeah, I can see,” she poked your arm. “Your old bedroom is just up there, I’m sure Rooster would love to see where you spent your formative years.”

“Rooster didn’t see me like that when we were teenagers.”

“No, I suppose not. But if you asked him to go up there with you with all these people here, I guarantee you, he would be dragging you up there.”

“I don’t think I need to christen Grandma’s favourite duvet today with his superiors here…”

“Bullshit,” she sang. Sadly, Annie was very good at planting very bad ideas in your head, and the little bunny bounced around freely. “If I know Rooster, the thought of getting away with something like that would be very, very appealing to him.”

“I watched him do 164 push-ups without stopping the other day,” you changed the subject.

“Why would he do that?”

You rolled your eyes. “For the sake of it. ‘Peak physical perfection’ was what he told me. He was gloating, I might add.”

"I’d believe it,” Annie shrugged. 

“He’s got an endurance like I’ve never seen,” you sipped your champagne to cure your dry throat.

“You’ve heard it your whole life. They’re the ‘1 per cent’,” she said in air quotes.

“Just ask them,” you said. “I miss him, I’m going to rescue him,” you decided with a hum of satisfaction but wouldn’t give Annie the pleasure of knowing just how true the ‘1 per cent’ really was. 

“I’ll come to get her soon but enjoy it for now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes with a grin that told her you’d do just that and wandered back to him. Gently caressing his side, you offered him the bottle, keen to see his next move. Pouting in thought, he adjusted his posture around Ava’s snug little body and grinned as he released a jazz hand, admitting success.

“Thank you, baby,” he took an eager gulp.

“Do you want me to hold her?” you asked as he shook his head.

He shook his head. “Naw, I got it,” he replied, swaying on the balls of his feet to subdue Ava like he’d been doing it his whole life. “I’ve held footballs bigger than this little love.”

Little love? Your ice-cold heart-melting at his endearments, you managed, “You look very comfortable, Bradshaw.”

He flushed a little. “What, you think I could do this?” he smiled shyly.

“I think you’d be a beautiful father,” you divulged. “Not that I… think of that.”

He giggled quietly. “Of course not.”

It was kind of true though – you enjoyed this incredibly selfish phase you were in with Rooster. You rarely left the house when he was home. Just the two of you in your own bubble. You didn’t have to be together, he could be found with a sledgehammer, knocking down walls or strumming a guitar in his makeshift music room, and you could be reading or lesson planning. You were just content to be together, doing your own thing.

“I think of that,” he shrugged easily. “I mean, not right now. But eventually. I want to have some kids.”

Of course you do, you sighed to yourself, sipping your drink. You felt an unfamiliar fluttering in your tummy. You just assumed it was your biological clock introducing itself violently. Fuck, unfair.

“You… don’t?” he raised an eyebrow, a little surprised.

“I dunno…” you admitted. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I guess so, I’m not getting any younger.”

The lopsided grin on his face told you he was satisfied with your answer and the taunting could stop… for now. “We could do this one day,” he shrugged.

You were gone for 12 hours, and it had been pure torture. He went for a few drinks with his squad and could not keep interested if he tried (much to the humour of Hangman’s taunts of him being so pussy-whipped that he forgot how to have fun – Rooster agreed. He’d much rather be getting laid every night with a woman as sexy and eager as you than have to look like a desperate asshole like he did… Hangman quit his schtick pretty quick). He’d forgotten how to sleep alone, not curled around you (and you’d called at least a dozen times in a drunken stupor wishing he was there, wishing you were home, wishing you were fucking each other instead going back to the hotel without him. It was hilarious, and in Rooster’s mind, heart-warming you were missing him as much as he was missing you).

“You okay?” you frowned, he’d drifted off a minute.

Blinking as he came to, he nodded. “Thinking about your endless calls last night,” he recovered with a smug grin that you rolled your eyes at.

“You’re such a dick.”

He gasped, pretending to cover Ava’s little ears. “Not around the children!”

“Said the naval aviator.”

“We are all upstanding, respectable members of the US military, ma’am,” he recited.

“Are you shittin’ me right now?” you looked around and could only insinuate the backyard was an absolute pissing contest, testosterone was choking the place. How Phoenix and Halo put up with the shit from these guys only spoke volumes of their strength and resilience.

Rooster let out a hearty laugh. “Okay, okay. But we’re not all a bunch of dickbags,” he protested to Ava. “Are we?” he frowned, suddenly a little concerned.

Pettily, you replied and started counting on your fingers, “Bob,” you paused and frowned. “Just sweet Bob.”

“Sweet Bob?” Rooster hooted. “You must be outta your mind because that guy is as wicked as the rest of us. You’re just confused by the glasses, aloofness – ”

“Aloofness,” you mocked.

“He ain’t reserved, he ain’t shy. He plays the game better than all of us combined. Baby, that motherfucker is foolin’ you,” he said, seriously. “If you think for one second he isn’t sewing his seed in whatever port we’re in, Jesus, baby, you’ve fallen for it too.”

You groaned, now Rooster was just reaching.

“Trust me, Bob is single for a reason.”

“Nope, refuse to believe it,” you turned away from him as he grabbed your wrist and whispered by far the crudest thing you’d heard of all the antics from any of Rooster’s friends. Rooster smiled as he watched your facade change as he went into some very explicit details.

“Oh, my word.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t know this,” he giggled again, kissing your temple. “My innocent little baby.”

“Yeah, definitely something Natasha and I should have talked about.”

“She has her own shame,” he kept paying out.

You looked at each other and said in unison, “Bagman.”

“Well, you’ve broken my heart, Roost. I’ll never be able to look at that sly bastard the same again,” it kind of crushed you. Not-so-sweet Bob. You were more than intrigued though and would ask Rooster again sometime. He wasn’t entirely forthcoming about his friends (or his) antics when they were abroad. There was a code they quietly shared and you probably didn’t want to know.

“Don’t get me wrong, when he’s on form, he’s amazing – we all took notes. It’s not a front, but what you don’t see, babydoll, would make your head spin. Credit where it’s due, he will not behave like the wild man he is around the ladies. He’s very respectful of Phoenix, Halo, and you,” he gently cupped your chin and chuckled. “Lucky for you that you have such an honourable, roguishly handsome, intelligent, Adonis as me, huh?”

“I’m supposed to pay you those compliments.”

“On you for forgetting I have an ego,” he replied thoughtfully.

“Ooh, you are on one this afternoon,” you murmured.

He smiled, slugging his beer. He leaned down to kiss you deeply, no mind to anyone in your vicinity. “I love you and you know I’m settled. You’re the only woman that turns my head.”

“Keep talking,” you instructed.

He nodded you closer and he freed a hand to tuck you into his arms, trying not to squish Ava. “I am so in love with you, I don’t care if anyone thinks I’m whipped. Because I am. You’re the love of my life and those arseholes can fuck around all they like. You are the only woman I want. Who I fantasize to, first and last thing on my mind every day even when you’re next to me, who gets me over the line when I’m away. I am so infatuated with you.”

“Better,” you blustered as he kissed you again, a little softer this time.

“I love you,” he said against your lips. You whispered the same back as you snuggled into him, lightly tracing the soft skin on Ava’s little hand. Your sister sure made adorable babies. Casting his gaze over you, he sighed wistfully. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Oh, this was completely purposeful,” you smiled as he cursed quietly. You moved across the space between you to hold him as inconspicuous as you could with his superiors, and of course, Viper, lurking. He leaned down to kiss you again. “With that blue lingerie you like.”

You knew Rooster thoroughly enjoyed being teased and that was solely what the dress was. You motioned him closer again and he bent to hear right into his ear, a glutton for punishment. “What?” his tone guttural.

“Free reign. You can do whatever you want to me,” you gently kissed his jaw before he stood to his full height again, exhaling deeply, a look of disdain (or discomfort) crossing his features. “I’m very looking forward to getting you alone tonight,” you said kindly.

“That dress comes off the second we cross the threshold,” he hissed at you. “So goddamn sexy.”

“Watch yourself, Bradshaw,” Grandpa stalked past as you both gave each other wide berths.

“Yessir,” he replied, meekly, hoping the old man’s hearing was going and he didn’t hear him talk so disrespectfully. His shoulders slumped as, thank God, Viper didn’t stop to reprimand him. “One day, he’s gonna love me,” he muttered, hardly self-assured. Sure, Rooster was in on the joke, but he couldn’t wait for the day Viper was his mentor again… and didn’t only see him as the guy fucking his granddaughter. 

“Not today, he’s not,” you snickered, sipping your champagne and swishing the skirt of your dress a little, loving the movement of it – Rooster had very good reason to find this his favourite. Your silhouette in it drove him to a level of wild he’d never imagined.

“You are a fuckin’ menace.”

“I am, I agree but you wouldn’t change a damn thing.”

Of course, he wouldn’t. He lived for you smart mouth. “Jury’s still out on current behaviour,” he mumbled, giving you a playful side-eye as Ava started to whinge. Panic crossed Rooster’s face, with the little one peaceful to now.

You smiled. “It’s okay, she’s probably just hot. Stop cradling her like a football and see if she’s comfier down your chest,” you offered, you mimed what you meant. He was a little spooked the ease of just holding the infant got a little harder. Watching his struggle was a sight, but you wouldn’t tease him, he was by far trying his best. “Can I help?”

“Yes, please!” he squeaked.

“Come here,” you rested your glass on a nearby table and opened your arms, happily taking Ava from him. Rooster knew his strength, and it certainly wasn’t a lot to hold Ava, but he was not used to the posture of it all and shook his strong arms out willingly.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “She looks much happier now.”

“She’s probably hungry too. You did great,” you told him, rocking gently, hoping to calm her again.

While you focused on Ava, cooing and whispering sweet words, Rooster sipped his beer, watching you intently. You were so beautiful, but holding your niece was stirring up some shit in his already-convoluted brain. He’d been thinking about a lot of things lately. His career was on the rise, he’d officially transferred and moved into his parents' old beach house, leaving Virginia behind. When he was home, you spent every night together; where there was one, the other wasn’t usually far, and everyone could see how happy you were together. He could see it too. He had changed, he had mellowed and he wasn’t remotely miserable about it.

He loved making a life with you.

It was all moving in one direction and while he was excited for it all with you, he could admit it was scary because he’d resolved himself probably not having kids and probably not getting married after his mother raised him without Goose and how it affected her every day. Leaving nothing behind always seemed like the easier option if things...

But now the thought of his last name being passed along didn’t seem so farfetched. The notion kind of enthralled him, and he found himself thinking about it – thinking about Carole’s engagement ring hidden in the safe he’d recently purchased with his will, Goose’s dog tags, passport and that kind of stuff with some various items of yours also. You just wanted your passport somewhere you’d remember it as well as some legal docs.

“Uncle Brooster!” you heard Oscar before you saw him.

“Uncle Brooster?” you frowned.

“I may or may not have picked up a new nickname today that has stuck pretty quick,” Rooster explained, blushing a little. “Oscar started to say Uncle Bradley, but I guess, also Rooster?” he shrugged with a faint grin. Uncle Brooster didn’t seem to hate it, you realised as Oscar ran at him, Rooster catching him in his arms, sitting your nephew on his hip.

“You said you'd play!” he accused, thrusting his new mitt on Rooster’s face.

“Hi, Oscar,” you smiled.

“Uncle Brooster said he’d play when you got here,” he whined.

“Missed you too, bud,” you replied curtly.

“All right, pal,” Rooster nodded. “I promised,” he held his hand out for the ball, putting Oscar back on the grass, as he winked at you and lowered his sunnies over his eyes again. “Duty calls.”

“Is this where you tell me you coulda made it in the pros if the skies didn’t call to you again?” you asked innocently enough. You’d heard that story so many times over the years. Rooster loved baseball. An unhealthy amount. If the Phillies (you had no idea why because he had no connection to the city in any way) were playing, he'd lose a day yelling and cheering at the TV. You dreaded the thought when football season started.

“I could have,” he sighed. “I was scouted.”

“By Uncle Sam?” you teased.

“Oscar, lemme show you that pitch, buddy,” he rolled his eyes at you, wandering away after him. “Your Aunty is a real meanie.”

“Yeah, but if you ask her real nice, she will always let you get ice cream, even when Mommy won’t,” Oscar replied as you giggled. Rooster might have been King of the Kids today, but Oscar still knew where his bread was buttered.

“Yeah, you’ll always be ‘Bad Influence Aunty’,” Annie smiled, sidling up to you and offering her hands to Ava. You shook your head, enjoying the cuddles.

“I’m not a bad influence, I just say yes to everything you say no to when I’m sitting,” you grinned, as she motioned you over to the big tree you’d sit under as kids and play endlessly. The sun was starting to get to you anyway and you sat down on the cool grass with Ava eagerly.

“How’d Rooster go?”

“Said he could see us having babies one day,” you blurted out.

She smiled. “That’s exciting!”

You shrugged. “I like that it’s just us at the moment. He’s away so much that I don’t want to share him,” you played with Ava’s little toes. “Is that wrong?”

She sighed. “That’s really a conversation you need to have with him. Because I know you two will be amazing parents, but if you don’t want to do it, you have to make sure you’re on the same page. It could be a dealbreaker if you both feel strongly about it.”

It felt like a boob punch, but Annie was right. Argh, you hated talking. Even to Rooster who, in reality, he was the easiest person to approach. He’d talk to you about anything, even before you two got together. It wasn’t that he was a few years older, because his maturity was not his always strong suit but had an opinion on everything and he listened well. He wasn’t scared to give you other perspectives on matters or pander to you if he knew you really needed it.

Fuck, he really was breathtaking, you watched him pass under arm to Oscar who missed it but Rooster kept encouraging.

Knowing you were trying not to get too upset, Annie added, “But you two want to have as much time together is wonderful. Things have a habit of falling into place like this sometimes. It’s still fairly new to both of you. You haven’t been a couple for a super long time, you don’t live together – ”

“He wants to, he’s said it a few times now,” you admitted as Ava started whinging and you attempted to appease her.

“What are you waiting for?” Annie asked.

“Every day he’s away, I dread the knock at the door – ”

“Don’t be like that. Rooster is very good at what he does, he will always come back to you.”

“His dad didn’t.”

“And our dad left on his own volition. Real life happens.”

You nodded, solemnly. “I know.”

“You have to open yourself to that man loving you. Because he does. So much so and he’s not afraid to tell anyone but if you keep him at arm’s length, he won’t have to fight for you because there is a queue of women who would kill to be in your shoes. He will be the love of your life, it’s just up to you to accept that.”

Oof, Annie always had a brutal way to deliver her message but you knew she was right.

Ava refused to calm in your arms and Annie held her arms out, preparing herself to feed her daughter. You gave Annie a moment and palmed Ava over, giving your attention to Rooster, baseball forgotten and jumping on the trampoline with Oscar, having the fucking time of his life. “You are gonna regret that, babe,” you said quietly. 30-year-olds were not made for trampolines, no matter how many hours you’d spent on one as a child. You’d fallen for it many times. The aching muscles the following days were never worth it. 

Oscar showed Rooster a small tumble, close to the mat. Not surprisingly, he congratulated your nephew and asked him to step back, bouncing way too high for the small trampoline and flipping himself in the air, giggling like mad. 

“Good chance Oscar will be suffering a broken arm or leg sometime soon with Rooster’s influence. He will be double-bounced at some point today,” you told Annie as she sighed and nodded. 

Sitting outside as the guests had started to leave, you relaxed back against Rooster’s chest, sitting between his legs as he rested his chin against your shoulder, kissing and nuzzling occasionally. It had cooled off a little, the evening breeze coming in off the water and Rooster’s body heat kept you snuggly warm. He always seemed to burn just a little warmer than most.

“Goodnight, Rooster. I expect I’ll see you you on the tarmac at 0600,” Cyclone said above you and you felt Rooster straighten up. “At ease, Bradshaw,” Cyclone instructed, casually.

“Yessir,” Rooster replied, hating being caught unawares. “0600, sir.”

“Goodnight,” Cyclone said to you. “Hope to see you again soon.”

“Goodnight,” you said after him. “I think that’s the last of them,” you reported quietly as Rooster sighed.

“Not one day of peace,” he muttered.

“You knew what you were getting into with my family.”

“I know,” he said against your skin.

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?”

“It’s a lot,” he agreed. “Wouldn’t change it for anything. This is your life. Our lives have always been so ingrained in all this. It’s what you get when you date the ex-Admiral’s darling granddaughter,” you felt him smile against your skin and smiled a little too.

You nodded, humming in agreement. “Did you ever think this would happen, Roost?”

Chuckling, he replied, “Probably, yeah. When we finally got together, I realised work and play were a lot more muddled, but it’s okay. I mean, the Navy feels like it’s all I know these days. It helps that you get it too. Sometimes I wish you didn’t know the ins and outs of what I do because I know it scares you a lot.”

Sighing, you stayed quiet.

“But know, I am always going to come home to you, okay?”

You nodded, pushing further back into his arms and he tightened his grip around you.

“You’re quiet,” he noted.

“I’m just listening,” you admitted. There wasn’t much more you could add, anyway. You could listen to him talk about anything and everything. His voice was a lullaby to you.

“Strange you’re not arguing with me,” he teased, giggling into your neck. You reached back to wrap an arm around his neck, your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. He sighed, he loved when you played with his hair. He was a simple man, but he fucking loved being touched. He was never starved, but no one could touch him the way you did.

“Take me home?”

“Of course. Can I just keep you here in my arms for a few more minutes?” he asked softly. God, he was just perfect. He always knew the right things to say and do to make you feel safe and protected and after your evening, he knew you just needed him to keep you close. “Don’t wanna let you go yet.”

Turning back to face him, you kissed him. “I love you.”

Even in the dark evening, Rooster’s cheeks flushed. “I know, sweet girl. I know.”

Home later that evening, you’d left your car at your grandparents, Rooster driving his Bronco back for his early start the next morning. Your drinks had caught up with you and he trotted around the car to wrap his arms around you, leading you to the front stoop of his home. Noting you didn’t exactly fall into his arms, he stopped and kissed from your earlobe to your pulse. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you replied.

Warning sirens wailed in his head as he dared say, “If the answer to my next question is ‘fine’, I’ll going to be really concerned,” he teased, trying to play cool in his concern.

“Then best you don’t ask,” you told him as he hummed into your skin and held you tightly, before unlocking the front door and letting you both in.

“C’mon. What’s up, baby? Make me regret asking…” he joked, hustling you in his arms and a mess of limbs as he walked you to the kitchen. He dumped his sunglasses, keys and phone and hoisted you onto the kitchen bench. Fuck, you loved when he showed his strength and manhandled you a little bit. He pushed up the skirt of your dress and boldly parted your legs to stand between. “Have I said or done something?” he asked, pretty sure he hadn’t put his foot in somehow since leaving your grandparent's home.

“My God, no,” you held his handsome face in your hands, tenderly. God, you loved his face and his eyes warmed under your gaze, relieved. “Just a big day. I’m tired, I drank too much champagne, I guess. Never a wise decision in the sun,” you said as his large, strong palms massaged your quads. 

“No, probably not,” he admitted. “But for a sec, let’s pretend I can’t see right through you and I can’t tell something is eating at you…” he tried as you sighed and rested your forehead on his strong shoulder.

“Can you know me worse?”

“Tried. Only made me want to know you better.”

“Then say less nice things.”

“Tried that too. You prefer me gruff and nasty,” he chuckled quietly, playing with the ends of your hair.

Looking up to smile, you gently kissed him. “Today was a lot.”

“Why? Me holding Ava? Being king of the kids? Get you all hot and bothered?” he goaded you.  

“Some of that. But also got a lot of, ‘so, are you and Bradley thinking about settling down?’ and ‘gee, he’s such a fine young man, better start thinking about weddings and babies’. And my favourite of the day from Aunt Maggie, ‘you are only getting older, dear. Bradley will want a baby eventually. If you don’t start thinking about it soon, you may be too old and miss the boat’.”

Rooster’s jaw hung. “You’re fuckin’ with me.”

“Nope,” you popped the P.

“Wow, okay. That’s a lot,” he said, a little taken aback and cradled you in his arms.

“Yeah, was a lot,” you replied, meekly, blinking back some tears while he couldn’t see your face. “What kills me the most is we’re doing so good right now.”

“So good,” he agreed.

“We’re having fun, we spend more or less every available minute together.”

“Yep.”

“Why does it have to be muddled with weddings and babies?”

He sighed softly, pulling back to look at you. “I dunno, baby. It doesn’t have to be.”

“You said it yourself though, you want kids.”

“I’m guided by you. You want a baby in ten years, fuck, that’s ten years I get to be completely selfish and have you to myself. You decide you want a baby now, well, whip your undies off and let’s get to it. We can start practising right now.”

“I’m on the pill, Roost,” you reminded him.

“Then stop it,” he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me because you lead, and I will willingly follow. Always. If you decide you don’t want a baby, well… that’s okay too,” he said the last part quietly but you both knew he was lying.

“Bradley?”

He pursed his lips, looking at you. He knew what you were going to ask, and replied, “I want to have it all with you. But if you are happy as we are, I will be okay with that too.”

“Bradley…”

“I won’t lie to you. I want us to have a family,” he admitted.

“And what if I can’t give that to you?”

“You’re already my family, so how can I lose?” he shrugged. 

Breathing, you kissed him deeply. You were so in love with him, he always knew how to reassure you and this time, you truly believed him because he was all you needed too. “You really think about it?” you asked shyly. As undecided as you were… you couldn’t help but ask.

He nodded, a simple smile gracing his features and a shrug. “Baby… you’ve always been an Aunty. Seeing you with children isn’t new to me. I’ve always known you’d be a beautiful mother. The only difference is it would be our sweet baby.”

Sighing, you couldn’t believe this man was yours, you wanted to kiss his face off. “Knock it off,” you rolled your eyes as he laughed, quietly.

“And you work with kids all day. You’ve got the patience of a saint. Not with me,” he said meekly as you giggled. True, Rooster Bradshaw would get under your skin in about three seconds some days. “But with those kids in the pool, that’s commendable. You’re giving them skills they will use their entire lives.”

“Bradley…” you warned.

“You want a baby, yeah, I’d make a baby with you. The practice would be a lot of fun,” he rattled off. “Kid would be fuckin’ adorable, because… I mean, look at us,” he raised an eyebrow, gauging your response and you bit your lip, trying to remain passive. “And if you decide that you don’t want to either, that’s okay too.”

“I – ” you started and shut your mouth again so quickly that it worried him.

“You?” he frowned.

“No, forget it. Didn’t say anything.”

“I have magnificent hearing.”

“You shouldn’t for someone who is in a jet every day.”

“True, I’m on a one-way ticket to tinnitus. But you were going to say something, and I want to hear it.”

“It’s so dumb,” you dropped your gaze.

Cupping your chin, he sighed. “Nothing from your mouth is dumb.”

“Okay, you asked for it… you’re away so much.”

“Correct. Not a question though.”

“What if I change my mind and you’re away for six months or something?”

“Well, I hope those days are behind me but respectfully?”

“Of course.”

“You go off that pill and I will come home so ready to make babies with you that you will be sick of the time I am inside you,” he kissed that spot on your jaw that drove you absolutely wild.

It was so hot, you think you died a little. “Impossible.”

He laughed quietly. Shaking his head, amazed. “Do you feel a bit better? I don’t want you down. It’s your body and I know you could hesitate because I might not be home as much as you need me to be.”

“We’ve got time?”

“Our whole lives,” he promised. You finally smiled, looking into his warm hazel eyes, as you cupped his chin, your thumb dragging across his marred skin, never wanting to change its perfection. “You good?”

“I feel so much better,” you admitted, softer now. More mellow from his touch. You hated the power he had over you to just snap his fingers and allow you just relinquish pain and distress. Every day he was teaching you, and it was amazing how easily he could get you talking.

“You feel really good,” Rooster admitted, quietly, his tone changed, his strong palms massaging. “Look really good too, like you need to be fucked really good.”

“I do,” you agreed as he sighed and hitched you into his arms. “Last 24 hours was pure torture.”

“I know, I know,” he kissed you softly, that kiss that drove you senseless. Just that kind of kiss that he stole before he would allow you to fall into it and your lips would chase him, a taunt he thoroughly enjoyed. “You’re here now. Bed?” he nuzzled your pulse, heady on your perfume. You giggled quietly, lacing your fingers into his curls.

“Bed.”

He smiled into your skin, his kiss leading to your lips and he kissed you properly for the first time today. You were so fucking addictive to him, his body on high alert. He knew what you needed and was not afraid to give it to you. His slick tongue tickled your lip as you gratefully fought back, missing his taste. You barely noticed he was carrying you back to his bedroom before you were lowered to the bed and his hefty weight was on you – right where you needed it to be. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, not letting him move as he huffed a laugh against your lips. “All right, all right, but you got me locked in pretty tight… how am I supposed to get you naked?”

Pondering, he was right. “Okay,” you released him and he backed up, offering you his hand as he pulled you to him, your back to him, nuzzling the base of your neck. “While I love this on,” he sighed. “The time has come, old friend,” he said to the dress as you bit back your smile and his nimble fingers made light work of the zip. He brushed the spaghetti straps off your shoulders, letting the dress float to the floor, leaving you in your strapless bra and matching underwear you’d promised earlier. He hummed, gently turning to him. “Shit..”

Pinching his cheek, you shook your head. “I know you like this one,” you taunted.

“I like this one, yes,” he swallowed thickly and your body was in flames. “Never used to give half a shit about getting a woman naked… but you make that effort to just give me a little more than I thought I needed,” his fingers traced your rib cage. “Makes me want to keep you in it just a moment longer. As well as the heels,” he tutted. “I don’t know how you wear them all day, but your legs could not look more amazing than if they were wrapped around my head.”

“Bradley,” resting your head on his chest, you were burning up under his gaze. He had the ability to make you feel like the most self-assured person on the planet under his touch. He cleared his throat to tease as you raised your eyes again.

“Don’t you dare get shy on me,” he bit back his smile, starting on the buttons of this shirt. You gently pushed your fingers away as he took the hint, his arms falling to your hips, massaging the soft skin and God, there was nothing you enjoyed more than helping Bradley Bradshaw undress. At the last button, you pushed the lovely shirt away and let it pool at his feet. He used his feet to kick off his sneakers. Popping the button and the fly on his shorts, you let the material add to the pile around his ankles before he eased you back towards the bed.

He crawled up the bed to you, his knees between your begging body. There was absolutely no need to rush. He placed a gentle palm behind your knee and dragged it to the ankle, unbuckling the heel and then repeating the action again on the other foot.

“Slow?”

You nodded as his lips crashed against yours, his arms caging your body impossibly close to him, wrapping your hands above your head with his, and again, your legs encased his hips, forcing his weight heavy on you. “I love you,” you told him as he breathed hard and said the same back, your name rolling off his tongue, his lips barely leaving yours as you grew a little more desperate for his body and he rutted his hips into yours, feeling a little more impatient than what you’d promised each other.

You rolled your head to kiss his well-worked biceps. Sitting you up, he made light work of your bra and his boxers, pinning you below him as your lips met again for a bruising crush of lips, tongues and teeth. You could kiss him all day, even with that moustache. It was so irrevocably Rooster that you probably couldn’t remember what he looked like without it anymore. You’d probably miss its tickle if he ever decided to shave it off. Other parts of your body would miss it too.

He hitched your legs wide as he slipped his middle finger under the seam of the blue lace underwear he left you in, the pad of his finger eagerly testing the waters as he tutted. “You’re so warm and wet, babygirl.”

“Have been all day.”

“I’ll bet,” he sighed. “Tell me if you need me and I will always take care of you,” he rasped, his warm tongue rolling around a straining nipple, lips enclosing and sucking purposefully. He bit you, a hiss escaping your lips as your fingers laced into his curls.

“You are so sexy – ” you tried as he slipped in a finger and his thumb started drawing circles on your clit. Your breath caught and a sigh of utter bliss escaped. His fingers were magical. “I need to touch you,” you said, reaching for him and he rolled your bodies to face each other, your warm palm reaching out for his hard cock. Your delicate fingers swirled the pre-cum around his head and he shuddered, chewing his bottom lip as you tugged at him, helping him find a rhythm.

“Good girl,” he cooed gently, his tongue sneaking between his lips as he breathed long and deep, wanting to feel your hands on him as much as you did him. “Good girl.”

You craned to kiss him, rough, the opposite of your bodies.

“I need you,” you told him, trying hard to compose yourself and not cum all over his fingers. While his fingers worked wonders, you just needed to feel as one. He breathed an ‘okay, baby’, dragging the flimsy material down your hips, moving to his knees to collect them over your ankle and tossing them over his shoulder. Sidling behind you, his strong arms dragging you tight against him, your back to his chest, your ass to cock.  So warm and slick, he sunk into you slowly, it was almost torturous as you pushed your hips back, taking him all in, your arm reaching back and curling around his hip.

A guttural growl from behind you as his fingers crept over your thigh, dragging it over his hip and opening you to him as he lazily drove into you, his palm gripping the tender flesh to keep you close. He laced his other hand in your hair, giving it a gentle tug, to kiss your shoulder blade as you mewled into him. “So good,” you manage, the slow pull of his cock and the sharp snap of his hips rendering you lifeless in response.

“Touch yourself,” he begged. “Please?”

With that voice, he could make you willingly participate in a multitude of sins, but this was too easy. He lived for watching you bring yourself pleasure, and he breathed raggedly as he tried to keep his eyes on your body, but lost to the sheer pleasure as your walls started to tighten around him. Your fingers toyed with your clit as you drew haphazard shapes, writing his name, knowing exactly what you wanted as he cursed, begging for your orgasm, his hips drawing into you, slow and delicious. You were far too wet and warm for him to last, and you were far too close as his cock hit you in the most desired of places.

“Come, baby. You are so close,” he struggled to say as his hips sped up. He was so close, only holding on to feel your walls pulsate around his cock, milking him, and dragging his orgasm out too. He gave your hip a wild smack and his teeth sunk into your shoulder.

“Holy shit, Bradley,” you moaned as his hips stuttered into yours, his orgasm triggered.

“Jesus,” his resolve crumbled as he fucked into you, hard and fast, coming thick and hot inside you as his hips continued to stutter of their own volition. “Shit,” he breathed, you both in a tangle of limbs and quietly panting. Rooster massaged your side and over the spot-on your ass he groped so roughly. “You okay?” he kissed across your shoulder and to your bicep, a litany of goose-pimples bursting on your overstimulated skin, the last sparks of your orgasm firing as he breathed deeply, trying to control himself still feeling the last jolts of your electricity.

“I’m okay,” you sighed, blissed, and found his hand resting on your hip, twisting your fingers in his.

“Love you. I’m so fucking in love with you, sweetheart,” he whispered, urgent.

“I love you too,” you told him, and he kissed you and kissed you and kissed you until you begged to stop to go to the bathroom.

“Sure you’re okay?” he asked, watching you unsteadily, your legs rendering you a little like Bambi learning to walk. He chewed his bottom lip, highly amused. Mission accomplished if your legs were shaking, but he’d lift his game up if you were still able to walk, period.

Keeping your thighs together, he sat up to meet you at the end of the bed, eyes dancing mischievously as you caught his chin in your palm crudely.

“I’m amazing, I love you. Gear up, big boy. Your night is just getting started,” you warned, as he smiled willingly, the pleasantries over. A tinge of red crept to his ears as he watched you cross the room precariously and close the door after you. He rubbed his face and collapsed back on the bed, blissfully. He heard you all right, gear up, big boy.

masterlist.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

#notroosterbradshaw #rooster #rooster fluff #rooster smut #rooster imagine #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x oc #rooster x female reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #top gun fanfiction

[rev-wrath]

Sorry, Need You Back

Bruce Wayne x Batdad!Reader

Summary: Your second son has died. It’s taken a toll on the whole family but you need your husband to come back and be a person again.

Info: Hurt/comfort. Male Reader. 0.7k words

Notes: First image is art that can be found here.

Nothing’s really been the same. Not since he left. This isn’t something one really could get over. But it’s been over two months and things are dicey, so you’ve got to get your priorities in order.

You slam a hand down on to the desk. “Up.” Bruce grunts, looking over at you before his gaze goes back to his work. “Get. Up.”

“I have work to do.”

“You have a life to live. And you’re sure as hell not doing that down here. Or out there.” You jerk your head in the direction of the Batman suit.

“I’m living plenty.” Really, he’s just surviving in some odd way. Existing almost purely as Batman and hardly doing much outside of that, even including eating and sleeping. You’re not sure the last time you saw him eat something that wasn’t a granola bar, bits of fruit or part of a sandwich.

“Bruce, I know you’re hurt. I know you’re grieving. I am too. But this is not the way to do it.”

“I can’t make that mistake again.”

“It was not your fault, Bruce. If it’s your fault it’s mine too. He’s…” You hesitate, not sure if you even should use present tense anymore. But in the end Jason will always be your son. “he’s my son too. I should have paid more attention to him, never let him go, much less by himself. I should have gone with you.”

“You’re not like me.” He argues.

“I can fight too, I have. I will again.” You don’t say that you will again if you have to, just that you will. You’re smarter than that. You know how things work.

“I know, but you’re not doing it every night.”

“I’m not.” You would if you had to though. “But I know you can’t keep doing this. I feel like I’m losing you.” He’s not the same, you don’t blame him. There’s been little differences about you too. Like the way you keep Dick closer, in a way you haven’t in a long time. If someone asked him though, Dick would say this is way more than that. After all, it’s not every day you lose a son.

Bruce though? Bruce is angry and withdrawn in a way that you’ve never seen. It worries you. It’s part of the reason why you’ve been tightly holding every bit of you together. One of you has to. Bless Alfred but some things aren’t meant to fall on just him, or him at all.

“I’ve already buried one of my sons. I don’t want to have to bury my husband too.” The way Bruce is going, someone else is more likely to bury their husband than you. Still, your husband is wasting away in front of you, like he’s intent on burying himself in some way.

That must have hit him because it’s only then that he softens and looks at you. “You won’t. I won’t have another son buried, I won’t have me buried and I won’t have you buried. But that means I have to get better.” His gaze returns to his work.

“You’re not getting better. You’re destroying yourself” Grabbing his chair you spin him towards you before cupping his face. “You’re exhausted.” His eyes would look dead if not for the ever present fire in them. Dimly lit under the weight of his world. “This isn’t helping.”

“I just need to be better.” He places his hand on top of yours but doesn’t move it. Instead he curls his fingers around it. “Figure out how to maximize everything. Be more efficient. Get more eyes and ears in places.”

“Rest.” Though you say it softly the word is firm. As unmoving and unwavering as you are. Though when the silence stretches on for too long you say, “Please. You need it, and I need you.”

He exhales. “Okay.”

“Come on, get up. We’re going to sit out on the terrace, have a meal, and get some sun.”

Bruce’s hand falls into your own as you lead him upstairs. Later he will hold you and tell you how it was never your fault, that you did the best you could here, in Gotham, at home. How you continue to do the best you could and he was so very grateful for you then convince you to rest a little yourself. Perhaps Alfred would find the two of you tucked into each other in a sitting room in the evening and a little tension would leave him as you two were beginning to come back to yourselves, to each other.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne imagine #batdad!reader #dc #read reed

[ruru0803]

In Another Life

Peter B. Parker x GN!Reader

A/N: The story has small mentions of death, divorce, grief, and a little jealousy. 'Y/N' is used a bit. This is my first attempt at writing something like this.

🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️

Alright people let's do this one last time. My name is Peter B. Parker.

Peter places his Spiderman mask on his face before letting his body fall and catching himself with his web, gliding across the city.

I was bitten by a radioactive spider and for the last twenty two years, I thought I was the one and only Spiderman.

Peter sits on the edge of a building with a coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other.

You see I saved the city.

Different instances of Spidey beating up different villains including Electro, Kraven and Juggernaut appear in a comic of his life.

Lifting or catching cars and buses.

Patrolling the city.

I fell in love.

Little moments of a younger Peter with his love, Y/N flashed in pages of the comic.

Their awkward moments of flirting with each other without trying to cross the line for fear of losing a good friendship.

The secret notes exchanged between classes as they walked past each other.

The middle school dance that they went to together.

The parties Y/N would invite Peter to only for the two to sneak off and have long conversations with the other until their respective family members called for them to come home.

Their first kiss and Y/N finally asking Peter out.

Y/N secretly finding out about Peter being Spiderman and waiting for him to tell them.

Peter finally telling Y/N and them stressing over his safety every night. Peter soothes their fears by video calling them as he swings across the city.

Peter making a huge deal out of his promposal and getting an excited yes in return.

The two graduating together and getting accepted into the same college.

The two moving into an apartment together and hosting weekly dinners with each other's families.

Peter smiles sadly at the memories.

I lost them....

One gruelling fight happened, a day that changed Peter's whole world. A friend of Peter's was corrupted by a symbiote. He tried to talk his friend down but he wouldn't listen.

Y/N and May ended up getting captured by him and Peter has to make a choice. He couldn't choose and Y/N paid the price.

Peter cried for days, he wouldn't eat, he couldn't sleep and if he did Y/N's face would appear reminding him of that night.

No one could console him and even though he was able to get his friend's mind back, a part of Peter could never forgive him for what happened to you.

I never truly got over it, my first love but I did try again.

An older version of Peter hanging upside down in his Spiderman costume kissing Mary Jane in an alley comes to mind.

I got married.

Y/N's family showed up to support him which he was happy about. Their guardian had given him a small smile as he placed the wedding band upon Mary Jane's finger. In the crowd he could have sworn he saw Y/N giving him a nod of approval. He wanted to cry.

Saved the city some more. Maybe too much.

Spider-Man fights off a few small criminals every night sometimes coming home later and later.

He'd come home to a cold dinner or his wife being asleep, sometimes he'd miss her altogether.

My Marriage got tested. I made some dicey money choices.

Peter invested money in crypto scams and a failed business much to the annoyance of Mary Jane and his wallet.

Fifteen years passed and during that time Peter broke his back, got hit in the face with a drone, buried his Aunt May next to his Uncle Ben and his deceased lover, divorced Mary Jane because he wasn't quite ready to completely move on from his past love and moved into a small, crappy apartment.

He would say he handled it like a champ but...

Peter would sit in the tub with the shower running and just cry his little heart out. He felt like he lost just about all the good things that he had.

Some days he would just lie in bed and stay there day in, day out because he couldn't find the motivation to do anything else.

Some days he'd hug a picture of Y/N and Him, other days he would mourn the loss of his marriage and some days he'd wish he had Aunt May there to help him. But every now and then he'd feel a presence near him like something was trying to console him.

Soon he started to binge eat to help the pain and sometimes he would go and visit his family wishing they were with him.

There were days where he would just take all his anger and frustrations out on petty thugs then there were days where he wanted nothing more than to hide himself away from the world.

Some days he would call Mary Jane but stop himself after the first few rings.

I'm pretty sure I broke her heart.

One day Peter was laying in his bed and eating a pizza when a purple and black wormhole appeared on his ceiling. Peter stands up, alert. Watching as the wormhole grows.

The next thing he knew his body was starting to glitch and the items in the room began to float. He tried to save himself but his web snapped as he was pulled into a portal leading to who knows where.

🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️

Elsewhere...

You sat down at a seedy bar with your head leaning on one hand and the other absentmindedly being used to stir a straw in your drink. You were dressed in a long sleeve red shirt and black jeans.

Next to you sat a couple who literally couldn't keep their hands off of each other. The couple being your blonde haired, blue eyed friend, Peter Parker and his redheaded wife, Mary Jane.

The two were celebrating their anniversary and had invited all their friends to come along and though You didn't want to come, one look into Peter's pleading eyes and you just couldn't say no.

After a while of being there everyone in the group had split up after realizing the couple was super into each other today. At the moment You was on your fourth drink, bitterly watching as the couple flirted with each other.

You couldn't figure out why Peter had wanted you to come so badly, if he was just gonna be all over MJ the whole time. It frustrated You to know that it wasn't that long ago that you were in MJ's place. That You were his and he was yours. Hell the only reason you guys broke up was because Peter wanted marriage and You didn't at least not at first but it was too late and now it felt like Peter was constantly throwing his new relationship in your face even if he wasn't doing it intentionally.

"Hey, Y/N!"

You blink finally coming out of the space you were in, the blonde smiles at them as he pulls MJ close to him and motions to the door.

"We're headed home. You need a ride?"

You shakes your head at his offer.

"I'm okay. I'll walk."

You turned to leave only to be stopped by a hand softly grasping your arm, You turn to face the couple with a sigh.

"You know I don't feel comfortable with you walking home alone."

Peter gives you a look of worry.

"At least let me walk you home."

"I'm fine."

"Y/N it's really dangerous out there just let me walk you home."

"Peter, Stop. I'm good."

Peter starts to hand MJ the keys to their home and places a small kiss upon her lips then turns to you with a smile, one that hurts to look at.

"It's nothing really. Your house isn't far from here."

You let out an annoyed groan before giving Peter a stern look.

"Maybe worry about getting your wife home safely than me. I can take care of myself, I was fine before you and I'll be fine without you."

Peter and Mary Jane looked at you with shock. You were even surprised by the words you said.

"Look, I just need some space."

You began to walk away needing to get away from them leaving Peter confused and MJ red faced with anger.

The walk to the house was a quiet and lonely one but You weren't so much as messed with. So that was good. You unlocked the door to your home before throwing the keys on one of the counters and locking the door. You let out a huge sigh and slid down the door, stuffing your face against your knees, taking a moment to sit in silence.

About two hours later your phone started to ring a familiar theme played out and a picture of Peter covered the screen. It rang for a while with you just watching the call end before Peter calls again. You let out another sigh and answer.

"Yes, Parker?"

He lets out a displeased sound at your use of his last name.

"Hey, where are you?"

Your brows furrowed at the sternness in his voice.

"At home."

"Why? We're supposed to be looking for King Pin right now.."

You sigh leaning your head back against the door. There was a moment of silence before Peter speaks again.

"I'm headed to this location. You better be there."

You phone chimes with a message and you hear a small sigh on the phone.

"Please. I need you."

You stood up and walked towards your room. You opened up your closet and pulled out the costume Peter made for you when you agreed to be his sidekick.

It was a skin tight white spandex suit with a red v necked vest, there were black straps around your arms and left thigh and to finish the look you added a pair of white fingerless gloves and black boots. You grabbed your laptop, a pair of binoculars and your trusty baseball bat before heading out the door.

—🕸️

The eyes on Peter's masks widened at the sight of you walking through the subway. He springs to his feet and moves to meet you in the middle.

"I didn't think you'd come."

There was a nervous tremble in his voice. You nervously tap the side of your laptop while staring at one of the walls but soon you turn your gaze towards him.

"What did you need me to do Parker?"

Peter lets out a frustrated groan as the two of you make your way deep into the subway.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Saying my name like that."

You knew that Peter could tell something was off. Other than the fact that you blew up on him, you've been being distant for weeks now.

"That's literally your name."

You smiled slightly at his little pout.

"Yeah but you only call me by my last name whenever you are mad at me."

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before Peter asked with a shaky voice.

"Are you mad at me? Have I done something to upset you or make you uncomfortable at all?"

You sigh for like the millionth time today and just give him a look of defeat.

"Now is not the time or place. Can we get this over with so we can go home and be done with today? Please."

With that said the two of you continue to make your way to your destination. The two of you found a section that was a little far off where you could put your computer.

"Okay. I've upgraded my software so that my computer can update us on their whereabouts."

You type a way at your computer, not noticing Peter nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"About that. I need you to be lookout on this mission."

You turned to face him with a raised eyebrow, your arms crossing in front of your body.

"You better be kidding."

"I can't risk you getting hurt."

Your eyes darkened at his statement. How could he risk his life time and time again and expect you to just sit there and watch it happen?

"I'm not doing this today Peter. This is King Pin we're talking about."

"Exactly why I need you to stay here."

You jam your finger into his chest, anger flaring in your eyes.

"You've got to be out of your goddamn mind if you think I'm gonna let you risk your life alone."

Peter meets your glare with one of his own.

"Why? Why do you feel the need to fight with me on this?"

He makes a big gesture between the both of you.

"Because I lo-"

You let out a small breath both to stop yourself from finishing your sentence and also go calm yourself down.

"Because you're my friend. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Fine, you win."

You were surprised that he gave up that quickly, Peter was usually stubborn. It honestly made you kind of suspicious of him. This was entirely too easy. But you shrugged it off and turned to grab your bat only for your feet to get trapped under thick web. You turned your head in Peter's direction to find him slowly backing away.

"I am so sorry. I know I told you to come but I can't risk you getting hurt.''

Your eyes filled with anger again as he turned to run off.

"Parker."

"I'll make it up to you."

-

After an hour of peeling the web from your feet, you ran to the facility that you and Peter had been tracking for weeks now.

There you found a teenage boy falling from a great height. You started to freak out trying to run to catch him but luckily Spiderman also noticed the kid and headed in his direction. He ended up grabbing the kid by his jacket and swinging him to safety. You let out a sigh of relief and stealthily made your way to where they were keeping a close eye on the goblin.

You climbed up the railing without Spiderman noticing. He swings away when you finally make your way to the top, standing behind the awestruck teen.

"He's amazing, right?"

"Yeah."

The kid jumps away after he realizes someone was behind him. You chuckle at his reaction.

"Relax. I'm with him."

You point at Spiderman and the kid instantly calms his nerves. That all goes away when a villain known as the Prowler comes out of nowhere and starts to fight Spiderman.

You didn't have any special powers so all you could was silently freak out from the sidelines as the kid pulled out his phone to record the encounter. You tap on your communicator when you notice something from the corner of your eye.

"Spiderman, Watch out!"

"Y/N?"

Right as Spiderman was about to fight back, out came the goblin catching him under his foot and licks him.

The two of you duck behind a canister and tap on your communicator again.

"Hey, are you okay?"

'Yeah, Yeah. Everything is fine.''

You give the canister a frustrated look at his obvious lie. All of a sudden the room starts to glow in a bright light. And Spiderman yells out trying to reason with the villains.

Soon a beam shoots out in the middle of the room. A big thing of rubble hits the surface that you and the kid were on causing you two to fall but the two of you were quick to catch yourselves on the railing. The next thing you knew the goblin was pushing Spiderman's face into the beam.

Then the whole thing exploded. The two of you somehow made it to the ground safety and you started to pull the kid to the exit.

"Wait! What about Spiderman?"

"I will come back for him. I need to get you out of here.''

-

"Peter!!"

You ran back in the direction you last saw him after making sure King Pin and gang was gone.

"Peter!!"

You started to get worried when you didn't get a response.

"Peter I swear if you're messing with me I'm gon-"

You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him leaning against a rock all bloodied and bruised. You felt like your body was moving in slow motion as you ran towards his.

You fell to your knees and pulled his body against yours. His heart was beating slowly and his breath was ragged. You moved your eyes up to his face to find him smiling back at you with droopy eyes.

"Hey."

He whispered softly to you his hand moving to wipe the tears that were forming in your eyes.

"Don't cry. Please don't cry."

He could tell that you were tearing yourself up, there was a look of guilt in your eyes and your bottom lip started to quiver.

You shook your head and wrapped one of his arms around your neck and you placed one of yours around his waist getting ready to lift him.

"It's okay. Everything is okay. I'm gonna get you through this, we'll get you to a hospital and everything will be fine."

You were saying it more to convince yourself. Peter already knew he wasn't going to make it, he had made peace with it the moment you found him.

"Y/N, stop."

"It's fine. I-I'll call the ambulance and t-they'll meet us o-outside."

You go to stand up but Peter leans on you with so much wait that it pulls you down again. He pulls you into a hug staining your clothes with his blood. Though it hurt him, he wanted to feel you one last time. He started to rub the back of your head as your tears wet his suit.

"Look out for May and MJ for me okay."

You nod into his shoulder and your sniffles fill the air.

"Watch out for the kid. He's going to need the help."

You nod your head again pulling away so that you could look into his blue eyes one last time.

"Of course."

Peter moves to grab your cheeks, softly rubbing his thumbs over them.

"One more thing."

There was a look in Peter's eyes, one that you've seen plenty of times before. A look that he gave you when he had one thing to say.

"Don't. I can't take it if you say what I think you're about to say."

Peter pulls you closer so that your foreheads meet and places something into your hands.

"I love you."

Your lip trembled again, his heart was starting to slow to a stop.

"I never stopped loving you."

That was his last words before he went limp in your arms. Leaving you a crying mess.

A little while later you take the kid home and then make your way towards the Parkers' house. You give the door two knocks before MJ opens it. She frowns at your presence and a glare forms on her face but it quickly drops when she sees your expression. You gave her the Spiderman mask with a trembling hand and she quickly pulls you into the house where the two of you just sat on the couch and held each other.

🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️

#marvel #spiderman #into the spider verse #peter parker #peter b parker #peter b parker x reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #miles morales #gwen stacy #spider noir #spider ham #peni parker #aaron davis

[genericpuff]

Rachel "Retcon" Smythe Strikes Again!

Okay, so I've been seeing pictures of Volume 4 of Lore Olympus floating around, and people are ALREADY FINDING RETCONS.

Most notably so far, some added panels in the Hades and Apollo confrontation that happens outside Artemis' house (when Persephone steals Apollo's lyre) in Episode 81.

This is the original scene, for anyone who needs a refresher:

Aaaand here are the panels that were added.

(all pictures of Volume 4 are courtesy @iwannagutyou on IG!!! thank you for giving me permission to use these! <3)

First of all, the art. It's so noticeably bad. You can tell Rachel has completely lost her ability to draw these characters in the S1 style, I'm fairly certain she took the panel of Hades from the old version and just copy pasted it to try and get around it (look at the posing) but it's incredibly obvious looking at that third panel that LO is not and can never be what it was back in 2017-2019. Those first two panels seem like they were copy pasted from the previous ones, which is just sad if those are the lengths she has to go to to come even close to replicating the older style.

Now, this just might be due to camera translation, it could very well look better IRL, but the colors just look so incredibly desaturated and the lines blurred out, to the point that people are doing double takes over whether or not panels have been directly changed - they haven't been, they've just been so sucked dry of their colors that they look off enough to cast suspicion.

If anything it's a harsh reminder that LO has kinda always had art problems, especially with its lazy humor and stupid meme faces.

Of course, to be fair, color loss can happen in print, but seeing how slapped together these books tend to be, I wouldn't be surprised if they just didn't put in the effort to convert the page art to CMYK or at least tinker with the saturation in editing some more to ensure it would come out more vibrant in print.

Now. Excuse me while I go on a bit of a crackpot rant here. Newbie puff pals beware, because this is gonna get dicey and you're about to learn where my tinfoil-hat rep comes from but I just have to talk about it.

Back to the added Apollo panels, where Persephone asks Hades not to hurt him and he looks nervous before she says "I just want him to leave".

Maybe it's just me, but it's a little weird that THESE are the panels they decided they needed to add. It's weird that she's asking Hades not to hurt Apollo when she's about to break into his car and steal his lyre just a few moments later. It's weird that the implication seems to be that she's referring to Hades' act of violence towards Tori... but Persephone doesn't know that's happened yet. So this feels like an unnecessary retcon that's doing more harm than good.

But I feel like the timing of this is kinda messed up as well, as this book released just days after the release of the last FP episode in which Apollo has his 'side' of the assault story told through his perspective, which is often considered a HUGE no-no in writing assault stories because it often comes with the implication that it's asking for empathy from the audience. We already know Apollo is delusional, we already know he thinks him and Persephone are meant to be despite her constant rejection of him, we didn't need a flashback from his own warped perspective explaining that very thing, the only purpose to do such a thing this late in the game would be to try and get the audience to 'connect' with him (it's giving S3 Bryce from 13 Reasons Why vibes). Now we have this scene of Persephone asking Hades not to hurt him (despite the structure of the episode being literally fine before, this change wasn't needed) getting snuck into the physical book release just a couple days after the newest FP tried to present Apollo in an empathetic light (and let me tell you, that's a whole essay and a half that I'll be getting into eventually).

Shit, if I wanted to get REAL Pepe Sylvia with it, I might say that hypothetically, the whole point of the random Leuce abuse episode - despite Persephone having no way of knowing what she attempted as Hades hadn't told her and she wasn't there to see it and we weren't shown her overhearing them in any way - and the following episode that was mostly padding of Hades and Persephone having sex - no consequences or follow-up whatsoever to the Leuce scene - was just to pad out the episode release schedule and buy time until the book came out so that Rachel could release that Apollo POV episode right before the book came out and revealed those new added scenes of Persephone asking Hades not to hurt Apollo, in what could be a sly artificial attempt at minimizing the SA plot so Rachel can finally just brush aside the one major plot point she regretted writing the most. After all, it wouldn't be the first time Rachel's controlled the pace of her comic to release certain moments at certain times that line up with IRL events.

But, y'know. I'm gonna quit on that thought while I'm ahead because it's probably making my credibility meter drop into the red. My ADHD has been real bad lately and it's really starting to show LMAO All ima say is that IDK who Rachel thinks she's fooling here, this kind of shit is stupid easy to fact check when the digital version of the comic is available online to read.

To end on a much funnier and lighter note, remember how Rachel tried to retcon the Demeter/Hera/Hestia relationship by changing the line "I miss my sisters" to "I miss my friends"? Well, there was one panel that had been missed in the webtoons version that still refers to them as sisters. You can still find this unedited line in Episode 78.

And uh. They forgot to fix it again for the book.

It's permanent now. That's permanent marker. It would have cost them nothing to find this in the webtoon version and fix it before it got sent to the book editors. Now it's gonna cost them thousands because the book editors didn't bother (or know) to check.

There's also this... weird shit going on with the speech bubbles. Like, they're REALLY FUCKING OVERDOING IT with the speech bubble outlines. I don't know who made this choice but it was a bad one. Gross. Don't do that. It looks so cheap.

But let's be real, at this point I feel like the book editors are just outright sabotaging Rachel because who the fuck calls themselves a professional when they do this shit-

Oh, and there's no bonus episode, just sketches. Which is fine. But it makes me chuckle to think that Rachel just didn't have time in her already razor-thin buffer to draw up a new episode to pass off as "cut content".

#i'm fired for that whole conspiracy bit aren't i #can you blame me when the wedding was lined up with valentine's day and dio's birth was lined up with mother's day #i swear to christ rachel does this on purpose it's so unhinged #just write a story #it doesn't make your comic 'deep' to line it up with real world dates that aren't gonna matter in 3 weeks anyways when they go up for free #it's just so unnecessary and pointless to do #lore olympus critical #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus

[djarinterstellar]

Kiss It Better

Summary: After narrowly escaping a dicey mission-gone-wrong, Din quickly realizes the byproduct of his consequences have followed him onboard the Crest, in the worst, most personal way.

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

—

—

Tags/Warnings: now from the top (make it drop), we got some Possessed!Din + canon typical violence, bloodshed, physical injury and some (sloppy) Force usage in the beginning. Reader is Force-Sensitive💫 (not a Jedi). there was an attempt™️ at touching on Witchcraft. Possessed!Din will get violent with Reader against his will ☹️ but we’ll get extra-soft!Din to make up for it. Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, eventual SMUT. Oral Sex, Fingering (fem receiving), Unprotected PinV, the Helmet Comes Off Tonight. No use of Y/N, this is 3rd person POV so Reader will be “she/her”. Established relationship from a universe i’m working on lmao. Takes place sometime mid-season 2.

Rating: M, 18+ only!

Word Count: About 9.3k lmao

A/N: While studying for my notary exam, I was tortured by this mini emo scenario that I had to write down and what started as a prompt escalated into a week of me pouring myself into this. 😭 That being said, I apologize for nothing—

Also a super quick shout out and thank you to @generoustimemachineconnoisseur for beta-reading and giving me the motivation I needed to post this! 💓💓

• cyar = love

✪ ✪ ✪

This was a mistake.

Grogu was peeking out from her tote bag and was clutched to her chest as she dashed through the endless myriad of tunnels, eyes frantic and pupils blown wide open as she searched into the darkness.

“Din! Din!” she hissed desperately.

She should’ve gone instead. He should’ve stayed with the kid. This was her idea to begin with after all.

Din didn’t ask to land knee-keep in the darkened swamp forests of Mimban. She was the one who was following up on the rumors of this particular forest. Whispers of a powerful Force wielder that hid out in the underground caves. She wasn’t a Jedi, nor a Sith— but rather, a witch. A (no pun intended) force of her own to be reckoned with. Sure, it was an unconventional route for her to follow, unorthodox even. And Din had even said it to her in the cockpit. But she was allegedly one of the very few true witches left in the galaxies, and it was her own idea to track her down in hopes of not only possibly being pointed in the direction of a Jedi, but also understanding how to use and access the Force from alternative methods, ones that didn’t require training to become a good wizard or a bad wizard.

As luck would have it, Uma was a witch. There was just one small problem. She just so happened to dabble with forces of the.. darker nature; the same shit that the Sith used to harness their own powers. Which meant Uma was basically cut from the same cloth as the (ex) Emperor and the forces that ruled the Empire.

Then, when Uma saw the baby, her very being shifted almost entirely. The witch had picked up on Grogu’s power almost instantly, the type of raw and untapped energy that could only come from a child so young and pure. Uma had decided then and there that she had to harness his power; the Jedi be damned, the potential a source this good had was limitless. And Uma needed it.

Which is how she’d found herself here just over an hour later, scrambling through the tunnels, searching for a way back to above ground while also calling for Din. In his rage upon realizing her true motive, he shoved Grogu into her arms and ordered her back to the ship before running after Uma; he was determined to give them time to escape while he killed her himself. But this was no ordinary bail jumper, or petty thief. Witches were notoriously deceptive and powerful wielders of the Force in their own right, one of the only few concepts she understood more than Din could. Him being left alone with an ancient bog witch was a huge risk, even for him.

Fuck, where is he??

“Red!” she hissed, her voice bouncing down depths of the walls in front of her. Her old nickname for him still stuck for her, and even though Din no longer wore that old scrappy suit of his, he was as stubborn and hardheaded as he’d ever been with or without it.

A moment later, they heard it: multiple blaster shots coming from a tunnel to their left. Din.

Grogu squirmed uncomfortably in her sling bag and cooed worriedly. Despite her panic and the frantic thrum of her heart pounding in her ears, she could sense the baby’s anxiety swelling in little bursts. She shushed him softly, gently petting the top of his head. She forced herself to sigh to calm her nerves. Even if she was terrified, she had to keep it together if only for the kid’s sake.

“It’s okay honey, we’ll find him,” she whispered to him, quickly following the sound. Sure enough, there were strong vibes coming from this direction. Had he found Uma in there?

When she rounded the last corner, her heart swelled. There, across the dim and damp cave this tunnel led to, with his back turned to her, was Din. He was alone and unmoving, but his hands were to his side, no clenched fists or weapons on the ready.

“There you are!” she sighed out in relief, already picking up her pace to reach him. “Gods, I was starting to get worri-!“

Wait-

The shots.. Where is his blas—

Then Din turned around, and she froze. The Force was talking, screaming to her right now in a way that made her stomach turn. He was standing with his shoulders stiffened and his legs spread apart, but his back was almost coiled, his helmet tilted so very slightly, as he looked right at her. Normally she could gauge when he was looking at her, but this stare was different. In fact, everything about his body language felt.. off. She didn’t know how to explain it, but when Grogu’s ears sunk flat against his little head, that was when she knew she was right: something was wrong.

“..Din?” she called to him, her voice so much softer this time. Her heartbeat picked up, and her blood began pumping into her eardrums again. He didn’t move for a moment, but his head tilted further off to the side and this time, she could feel his eyes drilling a hole into her skull.

“Theere you are,” he suddenly cooed, in a voice so low and so candidly sinister, that it sent goosebumps down all 4 of her limbs. He fully turned his body towards her in a move so fluid, he almost looked like a droid. It was then she felt, or rather sensed, a shadowy aura around him; it consumed him, enveloped around him like a viper, and it was angry, ancient and malevolent.

“Wh- ” her voice cracks and she quickly clears her throat, sweat building in the back of her neck. “-where is she?”

“It’s all right now.” Din all but purred at her. He held a hand out towards her, coaxing her to cross the room to him. “Grogu?”

Grogu stiffened in her arms.

His helmet tilted down, his voice dropping to an almost ominous drawl. “It’s time to go home.”

Get out. It’s the only message the Force is giving her right now. Get out get out get out get out.

She began backing up inch by inch, her grip tightening around the baby.

Din could already see her and called her name out, her real name, “don’t.” he warned darkly.

“Din,” she tried again, her voice starting to shake against her will. “where is she?”

Din took a step towards her, and her nerves began to scramble. Her body is telling her to run but her eyes are still racing across the room. And it’s when she cranes her head up to look for a ceiling that she sees her: Uma is standing at least 2 stories above them, a pair of glowing red eyes that weren’t there before looking directly at her. Her long arms are spread out by her sides and if it wasn’t for the patch of rock ledge sticking out below her feet, she would’ve looked like she was floating.

The witch suddenly cocked her head to the side in a distorted stretch, a move Din followed in perfect sync with her.

Her face dropped in horror and she felt the blood drain from her face. No, no, no, no..

Uma’s eyes darted for a split second to the baby in her arms before she once again made direct eye contact with her. She’s quiet for a beat too long before she speaks in a distorted, inhumane hiss:

“Kill her.”

She only had time to spot Din reach for his holster, and in a single swift move, she stuffed Grogu completely inside her bag and took off behind her. She’d just barely missed the single blaster shot that grazed the rocks where she stood and she didn’t bother sticking around to talk any more sense into Din.

Whatever the witch had done, whatever he was, it wasn’t her Mandalorian. And she didn’t even have time to find out how to break this spell. Din had told her this time and time again before; when push came to shove, if the situation were to ever go south, the Child was always to be her first priority. Reuniting Grogu with his people was the most important of all missions, and if it came down to it, yes, even more important than Din’s own well-being. Time was not on her side right now, she had a limited number of priorities she could manage and in this moment, getting Grogu to the ship was at the top of that list.

She ducked around as many corners as she could see, in hopes of confusing him long enough to find an escape. She could still somewhat remember the way they came in, but none of these tunnels looked familiar to her right now.

Then, as she passed another triad of tunnels, she felt it: the familiar scent of rainwater and wet earth, a cool breeze that could only come from above ground tickling her ankles, and all coming from one specific direction. She was getting closer. She sprinted into the middle tunnel, the Force whispering to her in words she could never make out. Whatever they were saying, they were taking her the right way and that was all she needed.

She was rounding the corner when she heard another set of shots from behind her, and this time they were uncomfortably close to her head. “S-Shit!” she squealed, ducking low. She spotted a little opening behind a layer of rocks against the wall. It was just big enough for her hide in so she wasted no time, slipping behind them and pressing her back as far into the walls as she could go. She pulled her bag into her chest and pressed her lips together, forcing herself to breathe through her nose, air coming out in rapid and shaky little huffs.

For a moment it was quiet, and she almost thought he’d gone the other way. Then, Din called her name, practically singing it as he rounded the corner from the last tunnel she ran into, followed immediately by a sweetly-ominous, “Groguu.” It made her hold her breath, her heart ramming against her rib cage.

He walked slower this time. He’d heard her footsteps stop, which told him she was nearby. She took in one last breath and forced herself to close her eyes.

Breathe, breathe, breathe. Focus, focus..

“Sweetheaart,” Din cooed, slowly unsheathing his vibro blade. His voice is mostly there, but even with the modulator, she can hear the disembodied growls filtering through and overwhelming him.

Focus.

Remember. She can’t command her access to the Force. The Force has to come to her.

Din let his blade swipe loudly against a wall of rock in a piercing screech.

She almost flinched. Then, one of her hands pressed onto the floor, fingers digging into the softer ground. She focused on her surroundings, trying to map out the cluster of channels around her.

“You can’t hide forever, pretty girl.” (mostly) Din drawled. His heavy footsteps loomed closer, taking his time as he was undoubtedly trying to find her heat signature.

She squeezed her eyes tighter, digging her fingertips deeper into the earth. She searched the tunnels, scanning the walls, feeling every crack, every crevice, reading the pattern of fractures in the bedrock, until..

Bingo!

Just as she felt Din’s body hover over her, they both heard it; the collapse of loose rocks to Din’s right. His helmet snapped towards it instantly before he quickened his pace and turned the corner, following the sound.

She opened her eyes and shakily exhaled. Holy shit, it worked!

She didn’t stick around to celebrate though. The second he was out of sight, she slipped out of her hiding spot and took off in the opposite direction. Her little mental map had also confirmed her instinct; this was the right direction to head back to land. And the tunnels proved it— sunlight was starting to peek through the little cracks in the ceilings the further she went.

Then, she felt a prickle along the back of her neck. Behind you—

She whirled around and her hand shot back up with a gasp, Force-freezing Din right on time before he could bring his blade down. She held him there for a moment, trying to read him.

“Din, snap out of it!” she strained. He snarled at her in response, trying to push back against her with his full weight.

She released him, throwing him back as far as she could go with a breathless pant. She watched his body skid to a stop before she stretched her hand out again. She felt the Force around his body and her fingers clenched. She lifted him off the ground and threw him again, this time around a corner and into the next hallway down, this time not caring where he landed, nor waiting to find out.

She ran ahead, her grip tightening around the baby. Her lungs were on fire, but her legs were numb, they could hardly feel just how much work she was putting into them. But she was getting closer. She could hear the water drippings get louder, which told her they were getting close to the waterfalls up above. Then, there it was; a cave opening just ahead, where she could see trees, fog and the greying skies on the other side. Thank gods, she was almost there!

Her heart swelled with revived hope. Then, she heard a familiar whizz fly by her ear. She looked up and saw it— a grenade rolling to a stop nearby, ticking down its final second by second.

Shit-!

She dipped left to get as fast and as far away as she could before it detonated, sending her flying forward. She crash-landed just before the opening, Grogu slipping out and rolling just a few feet away with a squeak. She grunted and hissed in pain, straining to get up before freezing. Din was coming, but he wasn’t close enough to spot them yet.

They were bathed in smoke and ash from the explosion and she had an opening of just a few precious seconds left, so she gently Force-pushed Grogu against the walls before looking into his eyes. “Honey I need you to hide, okay?” she whispered, tears threatening to blur her vision as she motioned with her hands and covered her eyes. A physical cue that she’d taught Grogu when they had playtime. Hide!

His ears perked up in understanding and he sunk further into the shadows of the walls, his tan robe blending into the bedrock. She sighed in relief. As long as he stayed there, he’d be safe. For now.

Then, a gloved hand gripped tightly around her ankle. Before she could gasp, she was dragged into the smoke and yanked right into Din’s grasp. She yelped out as she grabbed his wrist this time, his vibro-blade just inches from her face.

“D-Din!” she cried out to him again, her eyes blown wide open to search his visor. “Din, wake up!”

His growl was almost animalistic and it sent a wave of panic through her system.

With another grunt, she bent his wrist and kneed him in the groin, causing him to drop his blade. She kicked herself away from him and scrambled to her feet, snatching his blade with one hand and pulling out her blaster with the other. She panted, sweat brimming across her forehead as she aimed her blaster at him. “Don’t make me do this, Red!” she warned him shakily.

He rose to his feet as soon as he landed, his armor rising and falling with his slow breathing. He cocked his head towards her, taking in her smaller form before he lunged at her once more.

She shot several blasts towards his knees. His armor was impenetrable, but she knew every inch of his beskar like the surface of his bed and she knew exactly where to reach skin when she needed it. The plasma bolts singed his knee pads enough to make him stumble forward and she used his weight against him to knock him to the floor. She pocketed his knife and Force-pinned him down with her free hand, causing him to squirm and wrestle under her grip. She had just enough time to force his blaster out of his grasp, when she suddenly heard an ear-splitting shriek from inside her brain.

Uma.

It was enough to distract her and break her hold on Din, her hands shooting up instead to try and muffle the awful sound. A second later, her legs were swept out from under her. She landed face up on the ground with a groan before a slab of beskar pressed onto her chest. Din sat over her to pin her down before both hands wrapped around her neck. Then, he began to squeeze.

And that’s when she began to panic. His grip was instant, and intentional. With her air supply cut off, she immediately began struggling underneath him, choking out whimpers and unintelligible pleas up at him. Her hands pulled and yanked and scratched at his wrists but his grip held like stone. The tighter he squeezed, the stronger she felt Uma’s control over him, and the longer her lungs screamed to breathe, the more her hope began to wilt that she’d be able to bring him back.

But the worst part was watching him, how cold and unresponsive he otherwise was as he watched her struggle below him. He might as well have been a stranger, the ruthless asshole bounty hunter she’d met on their first day. Like he was crushing helpless prey instead of his own partner.

“D-“ her chokes melted into strangled sobs, hot tears rolling down her temples. She couldn’t even say his name anymore. He said nothing back to her, the only sounds coming out of his modulator was his grunts as he dug his gloves deeper into her neck.

Din..! He couldn’t hear her through the Force, but it didn’t stop her from trying anyway. With every awful passing second, her brain grew foggier and her body became heavier. She was starting to see black spots in her vision and just before she thought she would pass out, he stopped squeezing.

His body stiffened and he was suddenly thrown back and off of her. Her chest rose as she sucked in as much oxygen as she could take before she started coughing, her vision spinning as she refilled her lungs. She craned her neck and there, through the fading black spots behind her eyes, stood little Grogu. His tiny arm was outstretched, pinning his father down with far more ease than she ever could, his big brown eyes squinted in concentration.

Din was dragged across the floor and his limbs were splayed out and pinned down. He began to struggle and growl, a disembodied snarl coming from behind his own voice. He almost looked and sounded like an animal caught in a trap and the longer he struggled, the angrier he became. But Grogu wasn’t done yet. He started walking forward, keeping him in place and as she sat up, she realized the Child was doing a little Force-reading of his own.

Then, her skin began to prickle again. The witch. She was on her feet and looked up just in time to see Uma practically flying towards Grogu with a piercing shriek. Without a second thought, she threw her body in between them, tackling her sideways before she could cross the room. She rolled over and onto her feet, bringing both hands up to hold Uma in place and fling her body away from the baby. The witch landed on her toes and redirected her focus on her instead.

“You have been a nuisance for far too long!” Uma snarled, her red eyes brimming with rage, before her dominant hand shot up.

She was thrown backwards with a far more powerful shove and smashed into the wall behind her so hard, she almost blacked out again. Uma stalked towards her, lifting her off the ground and pinning her body to the walls as she drew closer. “And for that,” she continued. “I’m going to kill your little boyfriend first and make you watch before I cut you open.”

She cried out, straining against Uma’s hold. She was strong, much stronger with the Force than she’d hoped for. She sucked in a breath as the witch closed the distance between them, her clawed hand lightly dragging her nails across the skin of her cheek.

Suddenly, Uma folded over and shrieked, almost in pain. And from over her shoulder, she saw why. Grogu’s eyes were now closed, his tiny little hand pressed to the forehead of Din’s helmet as he sat on his chest. Din was still pinned down but yelling out in strangled pain as a thin, misty fog started puffing out from the pores of his armor. He was trying to break Uma’s hold on Din.

Both of them let out a particularly haunted joint-wail, and she felt Uma’s hold on her loosen. This was the inch she needed. Sliding down the wall, she reached for her leg holster, unsheathed Din’s blade and in one swift upper-cut, pierced it straight into Uma’s heart. She glared into the witch’s eyes as they faded from neon red back to a hollow black.

“Cut this open, bitch.” she snarled at her, before pulling out the blade and slitting her throat open without a moment of hesitation. Her body crumpled to the floor, where she disintegrated into a pile of ash. Instantly, the purple smog around Din broke free, sending him gasping for air. Grogu let him go, and his tiny body plopped down onto his chest plate from the amount of energy he’d just spent.

Her own body collapsed to the floor as she fully broke free as well, breathless, shaking and drenched in sweat as she gathered herself.

Din groaned weakly, his chest rising and falling heavily, and this time, she recognized his voice. She was still trembling too hard to walk, so she crawled over to him, gasping as her head hovered just above his helmet.

“Din..?” she whimpered, and his helmet shot towards her. His gasps were sharp as he reached for her and whispered her name back to her, making her heart swell with relief.

“Din!” she sighed and pressed her forehead to his helmet and held onto it as close as she could. She shivered as she felt one of his hands slide into her hair, gently pressing back against her forehead. She pulled back and looked at Grogu, who was now tittering on the edge of passing out. His energy was all but spent, but it didn’t stop her from picking him up and pulling him into her arms in a tight hug.

“You did so good, little one!” she praised him tearfully, planting sweet little kisses along the top of his head, and she leaned into Din as he sat up to wrap his arms around them both. She looked back up at Din, tears brimming her eyes as she gently cradled his helmet with a free hand. “Are you okay?” she asked him quietly.

He huffed softly and pressed his helmet against her forehead, his hand sliding into the small of her back. “I should be asking you that.” he half-joked, and it made her laugh despite herself. She cradled Grogu in her arms and buried herself into the crook of Din’s cowl, refusing to pull away from him as he stroked her hair and rubbed her back. “Thank you.” he suddenly whispered, his voice cracking right towards the end, and all she could do was nod into his collarbone.

They sat like this for several moments until Din had gathered himself enough to pull them both to their feet. “We have to go,” he instructed her softly and she simply nodded in agreement. “Can you walk?” he asked her with a gentle hand on her arm and she nodded again, cradling the baby closer to her. They couldn’t get out of here fast enough.

They hurried out of the caves and back onto land, crossing the fields to where the Crest was waiting. Din was first in the cockpit, bringing the ship back to life while she got Grogu settled. He was fast asleep by the time they got back so she placed him in his hover pod, gently tucking him in and stroking his ears as she watched him breathe. As small as he was, her skills in the Force paled in comparison to his; his potential really was endless, but more than just the miracles he could perform, or the way he could lift things a hundred times his size with a flick of his little claw; it was his heart and his unconditional love for Din that brought her to her knees. He was already halfway through breaking through Uma’s curse by the time she was able to strike, if anything he probably could’ve ended it all himself. He was as rare as beskar itself, and just as pure. And she would give her life a thousand times over to protect him if she could.

She didn’t allow herself to breathe until she felt the ship lift off the ground and carry them back into space. And it wasn’t until she felt them lurch into hyperspace that she finally let her body relax and close the lid on Grogu’s pod to let him nap peacefully.

She started for the ladder to the cockpit and almost jumped out of her skin when she turned around to find Din mid-jump as he landed on the deck from upstairs. He stopped and seemed almost as surprised to see her. “How is he?” he asked softly.

“He’s fine,” she nodded reassuringly, crossing her arms in front of her. “he’s gonna be asleep for a while until he regains his strength.”

He nodded back in response. “Good. He could use th..” he suddenly trailed off, his body frozen as he stared at her.

She blinked back at him in alarm when he said nothing else. “..What?” she asks. “What is it?”

Din didn’t move immediately, and for a moment she was almost terrified that somehow Uma was still in there, but then he crossed the room and closed the distance between them, his hands coming up to gently cradle her face. He craned her head further up and what she saw from the reflection of his helmet gave her an answer. Basked in the full light of the Crest, red and purple bruises were starting to set around her neck, in the perfect shape of his hands. A broken exhale came out of his modulator and she realized his hands were trembling.

“Cya’rika, I..” he breathed out, and the raw ache in his voice drove a stake straight into her heart.

“Din..” she tried to start, but he only further craned her neck up, his gloved fingers ghosting over her skin as he took in the full sight of her injuries. His breathing began to come out in broken pants, and his fingers only shook harder.

“I hurt you..” his voice was barely above a whisper, but she heard the crack under it.

She felt a pang of guilt in her stomach and she quickly began to shake her head in disagreement. “Shh, no no-“ she tried to ease him, her own hands coming up to press over his gloves. “-you didn’t..”

“I almost killed you,” he croaked, his own guilt quickly overwhelming him. “and all I could do was watch.” He paused, gently stroking her face before his helmet tilted to the floor. “I could feel.. I could see everything that witch was making me do. I watched myself strangle you, I looked into your eyes and no matter how hard I tried to scream or fight, I couldn’t stop myself.”

She shook her head again as she pulled him closer. “No, no..” she whimpered, bringing her fingers up to her neck. She wanted to reassure him, to try to let him know that she didn’t blame him. She couldn’t blame him. She refused to let that kind of guilt hover over him, not when she knew how long he was capable of carrying that weight on his shoulders. “She did this to me.”

“With my hands.” he growled, before sighing heavily and shaking his own head. “I’m s..” his voice cracked again and he swallowed the lump rising in his throat. “I’m so sorry, mesh’la. I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t strong enough and it almost cost me you.”

“S-Shhh..” she soothed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She didn’t even realize she was crying until she felt the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I don’t blame you.” She had to stand on her tiptoes to gently grab and kiss his helmet. “Not for a single moment do I blame you.”

A broken exhale huffed out of the modulator and his hands found her waist and the small of her back. He pressed her as close as his armor allowed her to be and she fully leaned into him, nuzzling her nose against the very center of the T-shape. Then, she pulled back and peered up into the black of his visor— she’d never looked into his eyes before, yet somehow, Din felt like she could still see him. Her fingertips gently cupped the hollowed out “cheeks” of his helmet, before her lashes fluttered down to where his lips would be.

“Din..” All she needed was his name. Whispered in a voice so soft and vulnerable, yet laced with an ache of her own so cutting and subtle, only he could make it out clear as day. All she needed was his name to shift the air completely.

His breath caught in the modulator, gloved hands cradling her face, his thumbs gently wiping her tear stains dry. “Are you sure?”

He had to ask. His answer was always the same, but he always asked first, whether it was out of respect, politeness, Creed or if he just wanted to make sure. She had to smile before leaning back in, this time planting a full kiss on the very front of his helmet while he watched from the other side. Her hands slid down his chest plates until they found his padded waist, squeezing the thick fabric down there anyway to pin their hips closer together. “Please..” she whimpered against his beskar, and the sweet little whine in her voice was more than enough for him to surrender to her.

He swallowed and nodded once at her. On cue, her eyes fluttered closed and she sighed, wetting her lips slightly.

First came the click and hiss, and before she could jump from the loud clang of his helmet hitting the floor, his lips were on hers. She gasped against him, her hands immediately flying to cradle his bare face. It’d been only a few weeks since they started kissing. But it had shifted everything; from the sex, to his body language towards her, their daily small talks, even how they both interacted around the kid, they were drawn to each other now in a way they hadn’t experienced yet. He was reasonably awkward and clumsy at first, but he was a fast learner and she loved being his target practice. And even though it’d already become somewhat of a nightly ritual, it always felt like the first time every single time.

He was quick to crowd her, pressing her against the wall behind her. He ripped his gloves off to tangle his fingers into her hair, his tongue already sliding in between her lips to taste her. She audibly moaned into his lips, her eyebrows kneading together in longing. His hands grew impatient, sliding them down her sides, trailing her curves and when she felt them cup the back of her thighs, she knew to jump into his touch and wrap her legs around his waist. He parted their lips to lift her with ease, groaning as she takes advantage of her new height to eagerly pull him back in. Her back finds the coolness of the steel wall again and she shudders, her fingers tangling into the mess of soft hair she adores now.

And it isn’t until he runs of breath that he shifts direction, his parted lips leaving soft kisses on her cheeks and her temples. He slows down to kiss her forehead, nuzzles their noses, and leans in for one more closed-mouth kiss before he slowly brings them down and across her jaw. She sighs and cranes her head up to give him access and it’s then she realizes her bruises are still a little sore, not enough to hurt, but just enough to remind her they were still there. Yet his touch is light as air. His lips are soft and slow, his hand is warm to the touch and he cradles and kisses her skin so tenderly, she starts forgetting they came from the same pair of hands.

The first unfiltered sound she hears is when he starts whispering sweet little nothings in Mando’a into her skin, repenting to her, and eventually he allows a little Basic to slip through. “..my pretty, precious girl.. don’ even deserve you..” He kisses a soft spot on the nape of her neck and she whines, a little shudder running down her spine and settling into her core.

She instinctively rocks against his hip and he groans again, burying his perfectly curved nose into her shoulder. “Tell me what you want, angel,” He slips his hand from her neck and lightly trails it to the small of her back. “Say the word and I’ll give you anything you want.”

This was her Din. Behind the layers of armor and weapons, the walls around his rules, his loyalty, his Creed, under his grief, his stubbornness and his rage, was a selfless, doting and softhearted soul. He was all mush with sweet gestures, a voice like melted sugar and small, soft touches. He rarely vocalized his devotion to her in public; those were usually left for the pitch black safety of his living quarters. This was her Din, and it was exactly what she wanted.

She’s gasping as she blindly traces his face, letting her fingers trail lower until she finds one of his shoulder pauldrons. “O-Off,” she pleads, her lips finding his temple and kissing his soft skin. “I want all of you.”

Din doesn’t hesitate. She’s off the wall in an instant and she hugs his neck to nuzzle his nose. Din’s eyes never leave her face, watching with a mix of awe and genuine tenderness as she kept her eyes firmly closed for him. She made fun of virtually everything else about him, but she never once questioned the Way. He was used to the jokes and the stereotypes by now, and she wasn’t any different at first either. But she was never cruel, or purposely harmful. She’d accepted the barriers in their intimacy from the very beginning and she was never once doubtful about it. It was something he hadn’t experienced with anyone else before, even from those in the covert. Everything about this was new to him, and it made his heart pound like nothing else had before.

He rounds the corner into his bed chamber, she cuts the lights with a quick smack on the wall as he clicks the door shut, darkness swallowing them whole. He kisses her again and sits her onto his bed. He’s quick with his armor, tossing each piece in one spot next to him on the floor for him to deal with later. Once she has hands on his flight suit, she makes quick work of zipping him out.

They’re both gasping at this point, her hands slipping down to make work of his belt as he rips his undershirt off. Once he’s able to step out of his pants, he grabs her waist and pulls her close, claiming her lips once more. Her clothes are easier to handle, and he’s effortless with how quickly he can get her out of her chest band. He gently lays her out on his cot, his knees fencing her in underneath him. His large hands start on the outside of her thighs. They’re strong and warm to the touch, tracing the curves of her hips and waist. They trail over the soft skin of her stomach and she sucks in a gasp, goosebumps trailing behind his fingers like prints in the snow.

“So soft..” she hears him whisper above her, fingers mapping out her ribcage before he gently cups her breasts, his thumbs brushing over the buds of her nipples and she whimpers under his feathery touch.

“Diin,” she calls for him and arches her back. He responds by taking one of the hardened buds in his mouth, which finally pulls a moan out of her. His sigh is a strangled groan and he makes quick work of her breasts, teasing, squeezing and pinching exactly where she likes it with one hand while he suckles and tastes the other. He knows just where she’s sensitive the most and he uses it to his full advantage until she’s physically mewling and whimpering under him, her back arched up desperately into him.

He tastes her other nipple when his hand slips down in between them. Her jaw drops as his fingers find the thin cloth of her underwear, rubbing a teasing circle around the exact area of her swollen clit. His name becomes a whimpered little chant as she begs for more friction, hips driving into his hand.

“Oh gods, please—!” she’s getting shameless now, shudders running down her spine as he gets braver. His mouth travels further south, hands pressing her into the cot while he tastes the salt of her skin. He parts her legs and kisses down the inside of her thighs, the scruff of his beard ghosting over her nerves. She whines again when he slows down on purpose to gently suck on a spot on her hip.

Then she feels his head dip and hears him inhale slowly and a blush of realization creeps across her cheeks. “Already, pretty girl?” he teases lightly, his fingers sliding across the soaked fabric of her underwear and she chokes, her hips already bucking into him. He chuckles softly and smooches the flesh on her thigh. “Easyy cyar,” his voice has dipped an octave lower and his words are dripping out like softened honey. His touch on her hip melts into her skin. “lift up.”

She obeys and he slips it down and off with calculated ease as he slots himself in between her legs. She can feel his breath ghosting over her skin, his big warm hands digging into the flesh of her hips, and then his tongue laps up her folds and she blurts out a throaty moan. He starts slow, tasting every inch of her, mapping her out and she allows it, fisting his hair as the air is sucked out of her.

Her moan spikes up as he inches around her clit, and he pauses over her to chuckle before he starts smooching around the bundle of nerves once, twice. “Di- “ she’s cut off when he palms her, two fingers sliding in between her folds to massage her nerves there. He hums low in his chest, collecting and spreading her arousal and allows her to buck against his touch. He looks up as he teases and massages her folds, palming her clit as his middle finger circles her entrance. She’s squirming under him, whimpering incoherently. She’s flushed and desperate, her back arching when she feels his tongue flick across her nipple.

“Is this what you want?” he purrs, sliding his middle finger inside, making her exhale sharply. He growls as he finally dips into her pussy; she’s warm and wet and tight, and the sensation sends a shocking pulse into his cock. He starts pumping his finger in and out, feeling her out as she’s pulled apart inch by inch. Her moans climb into a sweet octave and he swears she sounds like a songbird.

“Already so wet for me, ” Din marvels and she whimpers back at him. How can she bring herself to tell him he’s the only person who’s ever made her this vulnerable when she can’t even get his name out without moaning? Her breath hitches as a second digit slips inside, and Din moans softly from her grip. She cries out as he starts fucking her faster, his mouth returning to the bundle of nerves now swollen and pulsing in arousal.

“Din!” Her jaw is slack, fingers dug and tangled in his hair. She’s bucking shamelessly into his face and Din groans against her clit, pumping his fingers in and out of her with relative ease.

“That’s my girl.” he murmurs between wet kisses, ducking his head to suckle the center of her core, drawing more mewls out of her. “Fuck.. you taste so fucking good..” he whispers, before flicking his tongue mercilessly around her clit. She’s then rendered breathless when he fucks her deep and starts flicking his fingertips back and forth against the little bundle of nerves on the roof of her core, and with his larger digits, it’s a spot he can reach so much easier than she could on her own. “Right there?” he has the nerve to growl against her pussy, making her physically throb around him.

“Y-Yes!” she’s practically sobbing by now, riding his face as he moans into her skin. She’s embarrassingly close but he refuses to let up, if anything, it only drives him to speed up. His thumb presses over her slick clit, rubbing it in quick circles around that spot, fingers flicking up faster inside of her.

“Cum for me then,” he moans out her name to encourage her. His cock is stiff, tight and still fully pressed fully into his boxers, but he refuses to give attention to anything else until she’s peaked. “Let me hear you, princess.”

“Din.. Din.. fuckbabyfuckfuck- !” she’s an incoherent mess now, one hand tangled into his hair, the other had found his hand supporting her waist, and now had their fingers fully intertwined. She’s close, her thighs twitching and tensing harder around him as her moans escalate. It only takes a few more flicks and she falls apart, her back arched to the ceiling as she releases a guttural scream. He uses their intertwined hands to hold her down as her hips buck wildly against him and he moans against her skin, refusing the stop his ministrations until she’s fully ridden the length of her high. It takes a few long moments but the euphoria blinds her and she wholly surrenders to it.

When she does finally descend, she’s trembling and breathless, her pants coming out in high-pitched whimpers. Din has already pulled out and is kissing up her stomach, crawling back over her, whispering sweet words of praise in what she thinks is Mando’a except she can barely hear.

When she feels his lips start on her neck, she’s regained control of her limbs again and she grips his jaw, luring his face back to eye level. She kisses him first and he consumes her, parting her lips until she can taste herself on his tongue. Her body wraps itself around every inch of him, both of her hands slipping in between them to finally free his cock. He’s one step ahead, slipping his boxers off to finally free his restraints. Her fingers squeeze his shaft and she pulls a sharp gasp out of him.

“Come here—” she hisses against his lips. She was still swirling in a haze of astro-projective bliss, but her body was incensed and her inhibitions in flames with it. Her hands slowly start moving, dragging lazy little strokes up and down his shaft. His body reacts instantly, his gasps coming out in broken pants as he fully leans into her touch. He suddenly moans as one of her thumbs swirls around the tip, spreading his pre-cum around the head of his cock. Her mouth goes dry at the sound of his broken groans and how he starts rocking into her hand. She’s tempted to sink in between his legs in return, but then he ruts his hips into her, rubbing the underside of his cock against her skin and she arches up whimpering from the sensory overload.

“Fuck,” Din manages to growl between his pants as he fully engulfs her under him. He leans in to press their foreheads together as he lifts the back of her thighs, lining himself up between her. This time he drags the bulb of his cock fully in between her folds, dragging another whine out of her. “You’re gonna be the death of me, cyarika.”

Before she can respond, his cock slides in, and the initial stretch makes them both moan out. Din’s hips roll in, burying himself fully inside of her. They’re both gasping with his face buried in her shoulder. She whines his name into the pitch blackness and he starts pulling back out, groaning as her pussy, still tight from her last orgasm, practically sucks him in.

“So fucking perfect.” he hisses out between gritted teeth, stretching her out further. His hands still have a tight grip on her hips, the only thing he can fully grab to will himself not to cum.

“Din..” Her legs wrap around his waist as she somehow finds her voice. When he hums in response and pulls away slightly, it makes her shiver and motivates her to make her next request with a hushed whisper. “I.. I want you to fuck me like you wanna cum first.”

This stuns him into silence. But her words don’t fly over his head either; he’d always made her finish first, all the way back from their very first encounter. It was actually a very noble tradition he was really good about keeping. But hearing her begging for the opposite under him while he had her spread open sent an almost entirely new wave of arousal coursing through his veins. He growls something in Mando’a and the sound borders on animalistic, it rumbles deep enough into her bones to make her walls flutter and clench. A palm slips under the small of her back to lift her hips and she’s pulled into him.

Din slams right back into her and the new angle makes her jaw drop. She can barely recover when he starts rutting almost mercilessly into her, over and over again. His cock drives wave after wave of pleasure over her and it’s a particularly deep thrust that finally pulls the moans out of her. Her back arches against him, her hips rolling back against his until they land on a mutual pace that makes them both gasp out.

“So pretty..” he whispers with a rasp. One of Din’s hands find the edge of his cot above their heads and he pulls himself up to bury even further up inside her with a strained groan. “You’re so fucking pretty like this.” She whimpers and Din’s name pours out of her lips like a prayer, the slapping of wet skin progressively getting faster and more desperate as he fucks her into the cot.

“Y’hear that?” he whispers into her ear, slowing his hips momentarily to drag out the soft squelching of their arousal. She shudders and nods, hugging his back, desperate for him to slam back into her.

“P-Pleaase..”

“I know sweetheart,” he purrs, kissing her lips. “I just love hearing how I fuck you.”

She moans, kissing him back. His cock shoots back in and it makes her head fall back, eyes fluttering in pure pleasure. “Fuck, Din..!” she’s breathless, his rhythm snapping back in place. He grunts above her and it makes her core clench around him. This new angle sends her reeling, hypersensitive nerves sending shock waves of bliss up her spine. “So good..” she manages to whimper out, again and again the higher she climbs. “So fucking good, Din!”

He moans into her shoulder, his strokes growing increasingly fervent. “Who’s pussy is this?” he whispers with a wet kiss, his tongue trailing up her neck.

“Yours!” she doesn’t hesitate, her brows knitted together in pleasure as she fucks back up against him. “..y-yours.. alw..” she swallows, nuzzling her nose into his hair. “it’s always been yours.”

This makes him growl, hips picking up to an almost desperate pace and she almost chokes. “Mine..” one hand lands on her waist, gripping tightly to control his thrusts, the other tangling into her soft hair. He whispers her name again and again, the coil in his stomach growing tighter and tighter. “Mine, mine.. my girl..” his chants grow more desperate, finally edging on the brink of his orgasm. “..my sweet, pretty, precious girl.. fuck- ”

Then his cock ruts into her G-spot and she arches, choking back on a pleasured sob. “T-There!” she whimpers, her nails digging into his neck and back. “Yes..! Yes! Oh gods, right there Din!”

He groans as he ruts into her warmth over and over again, and he leans back down to kiss her, lips and tongues eagerly clashing together before he gasps into her lips to blurt out his final confession. “.. fuck, I love you.” Her heart suddenly seizes in her chest, but then he pulls her legs up in between them and he’s fucking right into her G-spot, rendering her speechless. “I-I love you.. I love you,” he says her name as he quickly unravels. “I always have.. fuck I-.. I can’t lose you baby- ”

Her pussy pulses around him and he crumbles, choking out a pleasured moan as he stiffens around her. He buries himself deep inside of her to spill his release and it’s the sensation of his cock rubbing against her ridges that quickly sends her over the edge right after him. Her whine cracks into a scream as she clings to him, hips thrashing desperately as her second orgasm overwhelms her.

They cling to each other for a moment, gasping breathlessly, before Din finally unclenches. He releases her hips and slowly collapses on top of her, moving his head to lay on her chest, his nose nuzzling into her collarbone.

“Fuck..” She pants and her body droops back to the mattress, both arms softly looping around his neck. She has to wait another minute for both of them to catch their breaths before her thoughts can finally gather.

I love you.

It had never been said out loud before. Had it hung over them in unspoken gestures and unbroken stares before this moment? Had it been suggested to each other once before, twisted amongst playful compliments, flirty insults or heated arguments? Or was it always meant to be whispered in the heat of passion, only to be heard within the walls of their hidden sanctuary?

I love you.

She didn’t think it would happen here to be honest. She didn’t think it would happen at all. In fact, she thought her feelings had been one-sided the entire time until this moment. Her heart is still buzzing, but a new warmth is soaking into her veins and now it’s fluttering for an entirely new reason. She almost wants to cry, except she’s still too mind numbingly high off her second orgasm so all she can do is smile from ear to ear, eyes drifting to the ceiling as her breathing slowly softens.

I love you.

Din is the first to move, slowly rotating his head until his forehead is pressed against her collarbone. He’s still breathless, but his movements are lazier and more fluid. He sighs once and presses a long kiss into her skin, his lips gentle and lingering. A second one pecked just above the first one, before a third, this time lovingly placed on her shoulder.

I love you.

Now, she feels it in every kiss. In every inch of her skin that his fingers brush against. She feels it in how his body curls against her and how his lips slow down over her neck and brush so tenderly against her raw skin there.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers once more to her, and she feels it in his earnesty, in his desperate wish for her not to see him as anything more than who he was: the man she was wholly, unconditionally and almost painfully head-over-heels in love with.

“I know,” she sighs sweetly and kisses the top of his head, nuzzling her nose into his hair. She smiles brightly and her words slip out so easily, it almost felt natural, as if she’d been born to say it. “and I love you.”

It’s soft, almost cracked, but it’s enough to lift Din’s head back up. She knows he can’t see her but she cranes her neck to match his stare anyway. “I’ve always loved you, Din Djarin.” she smiles softly, one of her hands finding his jawline to stroke his cheek. He sucks in a soft breath in the dark and for a beat it’s quiet, but then he moves up to kiss her again, and she returns it tenderly, smiling widely in between their lips.

He pulls away to kiss her forehead, cradling her cheeks between his warm hands, and she closes her eyes to cherish the softness of his lips. He sighs heavily and presses their foreheads together before he whispers softly, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

She grins again and nuzzles their noses together. “I’m gonna assume that was in Mando’a?”

He smiles and pecks her lips. “It’s the closest to what we have in Mando’a.” He pauses until he feels her head curiously tilt to the side. “The literal translation is, ‘I will know you forever’.. ”

There’s a pause as her eyes widen in awe. She feels her heart flutter as she beams again. “I like that,” she cooes, and she means it, curling up around him as she kisses his nose. “it's romantic.”

He chuckles and smooches her cheek, before moving to her lips. He leaves fluttering little kisses on her lips, hands moving to her hair and waist respectively. She purrs against his lips and is just as eager to kiss him back, inhaling as his tongue slips between her teeth. He sighs into her mouth and she gives a little high pitched hum before pulling away with a giggle.

“Diiin,” she tries to scold but she’s smiling too wide and only giggles harder when he starts kissing her jaw.

“Let me make it up to you my love.” he sighs lovingly, smiling as he presses her closer to him.

She fully laughs at this and frees her arms to loop them around his neck. “I already forgave you, silly!”

He chuckles again and leans in just above her. “Oh I'm not done begging for your forgiveness yet, cyar'ika.”

He shifts above her and she then realizes he’s still buried inside of her. He smiles as she gasps, and he kisses along the edge of her jawline. “There’s no rush, princess. We have all night.”

And keep to that promise, he did.

♡♡♡♡

A/N: I should’ve mentioned that this is actually the first time i’ve posted ff in like a decade lmao. And that i DO have a multi-chapter series i’m working on rn that ties into this universe so lmk if y’all are interested in that 👉🏼👈🏼 ok that’s it thx for ur time 💫

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x force!sensitive reader #din djarin x force sensitive reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x force!sensitive reader #the mandalorian x reader #star wars

[rainbow-nerdss]

Hi! If you still take soft prompts, I want to suggest 24 and/or 29 (I can't choose hahaha) ❤️❤️

AHH thank you so much! Definitely still taking the prompts, I am ALWAYS down to write some softness (though this one did grow a little angst, oops?)

I fit both prompts in here, so enjoy!

"I just really need a hug" and "pet names"

Eddie was worried—worried about Buck.

Where he’d usually joke around at the end of shift, try to make plans with Eddie—or someone else, if Eddie was busy—he’d been quiet. Withdrawn. Eddie had even reached out, asked if he wanted to come over, but Buck had simply shook his head and walked out alone.

He hadn’t even replied to Eddie’s text asking if he was okay.

Even Chris noticed. He asked Eddie if he’d had a bad day at work, clearly seeing something in his expression.

“It was a hard day. Harder for Buck, I think.”

“How come?”

Eddie hesitated, but Chris was old enough, had been to enough therapy that Eddie was sure he’d be okay to hear an overview. “We had a call at the beach, a kid tangled under a pier. He almost drowned.”

Chris’ expression tightened in understanding. “Do you think I should call him?”

Eddie smiled at his kid’s generosity. He knew Chris had some sort of video call scheduled with some friends, to play a video game tonight. “I think that’s a great idea, bud.”

Eddie was relieved to hear the muffled voices of Chris and Buck through the walls later in the evening, glad to know that while Buck wasn’t talking to him, he had at least answered Chris’s call.

Chris knocked on Eddie’s door a minute or two after the call went silent.

“Come in!”

Chris came in, holding a rock he usually kept on his desk. He sat on Eddie’s bed, passing the rock from one hand to the other. “I just talked to Buck. He said it reminded him of the tsunami.”

“I thought so,” Eddie agreed. “Did you guys talk about it?”

“A little. I think he just wanted to hear my voice, though. We talked about video games, mostly. And rocks? He read an article.”

Eddie snorted. “Yeah, sounds like Buck. You’re a good kid, you know that?”

Chris scoffed, setting the rock down on Eddie’s nightstand. “Sure, dad. Goodnight.”

“‘Night, bud.”

Eddie lay awake for a long time, thinking about it. They’d saved the kid, and he was doing fine by the time they got him to the hospital, but it was dicey for a minute there, with the tide coming in and the water level rising.

The look on Buck’s face had brought Eddie right back to that day, seeing him in the field hospital with Chris’s glasses around his neck.

When he finally fell asleep, it was fitful, restless. He wasn’t sure how long he managed to sleep before he was being awoken by a sound from somewhere in the house.

Was that Chris, getting out of bed? Eddie blinked in the darkness, listening out. He heard footsteps—not Chris’s usual gait, heavier, more even. Eddie sat up in bed, now on alert through the sleepy fog in his brain.

He reached for something he can use as a weapon, hand landing on Chris’s rock. It would have to do.

He felt his way out of his room, down the hall to the front door, where a dark shadow loomed. Eddie reached for the lightswitch, bracing the rock. He flipped the switch, and started to swing, only to find himself face to face with… Buck?

It was Buck, with red-rimmed eyes, who turned around abruptly just in time for Eddie to connect the rock with his shoulder.

Buck recoiled, yelling, and Eddie was suddenly very glad for his tired body and its inability to put much power into the swing. As it was, the hit didn’t land with too much force.

He dropped the rock.

“Shit, Buck, what—are you okay?”

Buck shook his head, and Eddie was suddenly wide awake, ushering him into the living room, sitting him down to look at his shoulder and make sure he wasn't actually hurt.

“Talk to me, Buck. You came here, in the middle of the night. Why?”

Buck was pliant, moving without resistance where Eddie led him. He took a shaky breath before answering, in broken sentences that Eddie had to piece together.

“I was… I couldn’t sleep. Kept thinking—and I remembered what Dr. Copeland was saying in my last session. About—about asking. Asking for things I—I want, things I need. And—and then next thing I knew I was in an uber, and then I was here, and you were throwing a rock at me.”

Eddie, finally assured that Buck was—at least physically—fine, paused in his movements. “You came here to ask for something?”

Buck nodded.

“What is it?”

Buck sniffed, eyes welling with tears Eddie was sure weren’t falling for the first time that night. He shook his head. “I–Eddie, I don’t—”

“Anything, Buck,” Eddie gripped Buck's shoulder. “Anything.” It was honest, maybe too honest for this hour of night, when Buck was in this condition, but Eddie couldn’t help it.

“I just… I just really needed a—a hug.”

Eddie’s heart broke at how Buck was hunched in on himself, as though he thought this might be too much to ask. That he had come here to ask for something so simple, that Eddie had, however accidentally, responded with violence… He couldn’t stand it. He practically fell into Buck, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

“Oh, Buck. Baby, come here.”

Buck melted into the hug, his arms coming up to rest around Eddie’s middle, his face burying in Eddie’s chest.

Eddie held him, feeling his sobs shaking through his body,a wet patch growing on his sleep shirt from Buck's tears. This was more than just a bad shift, more than just a reminder of the tsunami, of that Eddie was sure.

“God, Buck,” he whispered into the top of Buck's head. “Sweetheart, how long has this been building up?”

Finally, Buck's sobs subsided. He tried to sit up, to gather himself together, but Eddie didn't let go. He used his own shirt to wipe Buck's eyes, keeping his other arm around him.

“It's been… a while, I think. We haven't… I don't remember the last time we hugged. I—I didn't realise how much I missed it until… until recently.”

Eddie did remember the last time they hugged. He remembered, because as Buck bounded away, full of joy and life, Eddie had felt his chest swell, realisation washing over him, and he'd shied away from hugs ever since.

He hadn't realised it had been affecting Buck this much.

“I'm so sorry, Buck.”

Buck shrugged, glancing away. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then shook his head minutely.

“Talk to me, Buck. What is it?”

“It's silly. I was just… I wanted…”

“It's not silly. Anything you want, remember?”

“Can you… can you call me… those things again?”

If Buck's face wasn't still red from crying, Eddie thought he might have been blushing. “What things?” Eddie asked.

“When I was… you, uh… you called me…”

“Baby,” Eddie whispered, remembering what slipped out in the heat of the moment. and Buck nodded. Eddie felt the way his body trembled at the word. “Buck, sweetheart, I—”

Buck hugged him again, this time pulling him closer than before, practically squeezing him.

“Your turn,” Buck said, voice muffled by Eddie's shoulder.

“My turn? Buck?”

Buck made a sound, and Eddie corrected himself. “Baby, what do you mean?”

“It’s your turn… to ask for what you want.”

Eddie took a shuddering breath, inhaling the lingering smell of the ocean from Buck's hair, only partially masked by the shampoo he kept at the station, the one Eddie always stole when he could get away with it.

“I just want this, baby. I just want you.”

“Really?” Buck relaxed the hug just enough to look Eddie in the eye. Buck's eyes were bright, glistening with fresh tears. The expression wasn't sad and broken, anymore, though—he looked…hopeful?

“Yeah,” Eddie breathed the word, tracing a finger across Buck's cheek, up to his birthmark. “It's okay, if you don't—”

But whatever he'd been about to say, however he was about to let himself down easy was lost, because Buck cut him off with a kiss.

“Eddie, you've got me.”

Eddie reeled Buck back in, kissing him again the way he's wanted to for so long, since the hug that started all of this.

“You said I should ask for what I want too, right?"

"Yeah," Buck reiterated, punctuating with another press of his lips against Eddie's.

"Then come to bed? You sort of woke me up just now."

Send me soft prompts 💙

#my fic #buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz

[takamikeiigos]

You and Hawks on a covert stealth mission together, since both your quirks complement each others almost too well. You feel it. He feels it. It's impossible to ignore-

Then things get dicey; some low level grunts making the rounds and walking around the corner. Hawks reacts instantly, as if he's operating on autopilot- grabbing you by the elbow and pushing you into the closest closet he can find

But his wings are so big and the closet is so small... of course he has no choice but to press you up against the wall. For a brief moment, Hawks is shielding you from any form of harm, while caging you in at the same time

Your first instinct is to bristle up in embarrassment; he's just too. Fucking. Close. But the moment you open your mouth to ask him 'What the hell are you doing!?' he's covering your mouth with one of those gloved palms. He brings his free hand up to his own lips and whispers a hushed 'shhh' as the two grunts meander drunkenly past the closet

Even when they're gone, Hawks' shoulders don't loosen up; he's got a new problem now... he kinda likes the feeling of pushing your body up against a wall, even if it was a little cramped in there

imagine: me, poking my head around the corner, foaming at the mouth

THIS. IS. MY. SHIT.

teaming up with hawks works so well for both of you. his speed compliments your strength, something he's admitted lacking. but together you make a strong team, knocking out missions thoroughly and quickly. the hspc had no choice but to teak you two up, nobody works together as wee as you two.

if only they knew about the cloying sexual tension that you and hawks are much too stubborn to act on.

you're both bickering with each other over stupid shit, hawks arguing that chicken is the best food ever, hands down (while you have other preferences), when both stop dead in your tracks.

you've been sent to scope out a building before a raid, lurking in the shadows, undetected to the enemy, when you both hear drunken laughter and a pair of unsteady footsteps approaching.

"are these people for real?" you can't help but whisper, and just as you go to poke your head around the corner, hawks grabs you by the waist and drags you backward.

the fucker drags you into a dark, cramped supply closet to hide when you easily could've taken down whatever drunk idiots that were meandering around outside.

the hair on the back of your neck stands up, and your skin prickles with annoyance. he's so close - chest pressed firmly against yours, and his wings, which occupy at least 80% of the space, are tucked around you like a shield while he tilts his head to listen through the door, oblivious to your discomfort.

and just as you're about to pitch a fit, reaching up and grab him by the shoulder, he throws a gloved hand over your lips and stares at you. there's a gleam of light coming through a crack in the door and it reflects off of his eyes, his amber irises much more terrifying in the dark than they are in daylight.

he brings a finger to his lips, motioning for you to stay quiet.

the two idiots outside linger, hooting and hollering in the hallway, just a few feet away from the door, and with each passing second your irritation boils. not so much with the fact that they're out there, but the fact that hawks has you pressed up against the wall of the closet, the hard line of his chest pressed so firmly to yours, and his thigh pushing into the space between your legs.

he rustles slightly, and the friction between your thighs causes you to hiss. he turns his attention away from the door once more and peers at you in question, annoyed that you keep making noise, only to look down and see the problem for himself.

the cheeky bastard just looks back up at you with a smirk.

-

a few weeks later, you're teamed up again, this time fighting some assholes who are having a little too much fun setting explosions off in the downtown area.

you've managed to subdue one of the villains while hawks flies overhead, preoccupied with evacuating a damaged apartment building.

you tune into your comms as you slap a set of handcuffs over the villain's wrists, unheeding to the absolute hissy-fit the assailant is throwing below you.

"let me know when you get that building cleared. first guy is about to get shipped off, the other one's hiding out somewhere nearby,"

the comm crackles before hawks' voice comes through, much too chipper for your liking this early in the morning.

"maybe your imposing demeanor scared him off. you aren't exactly a morning person, chickadee," he teases, and you swear you can see the playful smirk he's sporting.

you yank the villain to his feet and push him forward toward the swat team that's on standby, once again ignoring his protests.

"not everyone has the energy to spew sunshine and rainbows out of their assholes at 8 o'clock in the morning, hawks."

he laughs brightly over the comms, "yeah, yeah. almost done, here."

you ditch the first villain with the swat team and turn around, heading back in the direction you came from, when a line of consecutive explosions rapidly go off to your right, heading straight for you. you brace yourself for the worst, but suddenly you're flying through the air before colliding with a wall and landing on the ground.

the impact knocks the wind out of you and you cough, caught in a daze as smoke hazes around you. and when you blink through the confusion you realize there's a weight on top of you, pinning you to the ground.

hawks is crouched above you, leaning in low, with his wings spread out in what you guess is either a protective or predatorial stance. he leans back just enough to get a good look at you, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"we've gotta stop meeting like this," he muses; entertained.

you shove at his shoulder and he laughs. "you say that, hawks, but i'm beginning to think you like pinning me up against things."

-

a month later you aren't actually teamed up on a mission, but attending a ceremony for newly recruited heroes. you stick by each other's sides, set to be a prime example of how hero-duos are supposed to work together - basically eye-candy for the commission to gain clout.

you will admit, you've had a few drinks to take the edge off, and hawks had resorted to being your babysitter this time around.

the speeches are over with and it's social hour, the new recruits making their rounds with their agencies; seasoned pro-heros glad to finally have a moment of free time on their hands.

you finish your glass of champagne and sigh, staring off into the crowd.

"don't get me wrong, i like working with you. but why do we have to be bait for the commission's schemes?" you mutter, tugging at the shoulder of your tailored dress.

hawks reaches forward and takes your empty glass, setting it down on the table you're standing next to.

"probably because we look good together," he inclines, brushing your hand from your shoulder and adjusting the strap of your dress for you. he smooths the fabric down beneath his fingers and moves to adjust the other strap, doing the same until it lays even against your skin.

you cast your gaze to the side, avoiding him, as your cheeks flush.

"not our fault we're good looking.." you mumble.

you've definitely piqued his curiosity, and damn you for letting the alcohol talk.

"you think i'm good looking, huh?" he taunts, leaning in to catch your gaze. you roll your eyes and shove at his shoulder.

"i mean, you've pinned me up against so many surfaces that i've gotten a close enough look. i don't think my eyes would deceive me, hawks."

he laughs. "i'm glad it finally paid off, then. shall we show them what two, deliciously good looking people are capable of on the dancefloor?"

"watch it. you're biting off more than you can chew, pretty bird."

#i... really dont know what this is #idk what i created #my brain was just spewing words bc no thoughts head empty #but yes #hawks pinning us against things??? #with his big... intimidating wings... #and that glint in his eyes... #😤😤😤 #consider me scared AND h*rny your honour #he'd turn it into a fuckin game too #like oops #let me reach for this item next to real quick *basically kabedons you to the newrest surface* #he is a MENACE ur honour #keigo takami #hawks #bnha hawks #bnha keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #ky writes #keigo takami headcanons #mha hawks #anyway 100000% kudos to anon #ur idea was immaculate #my brain just trailed off bc birdboy make brain go brrrr

[thevindicativevordan]

Thoughts on “Man and Superman” by Marv Wolfman?

Countless Superman origin stories, including one written and titled Superman: Year One by Frank Miller himself no less, and this is the only one that thought to copy the actual structure of Batman: Year One.

Four issues telling the story of Clark's first year in Metropolis, beginning in Metropolis from the first page. We see Clark arrive in Metropolis, struggle to get a job as a reporter with the major newspapers because he's a nobody from nowhere, wears a "proto-suit" until beginning to wear his classic outfit at the very end, botches his first few attempts at being a hero because he has no clue what he's doing, fall in love with Lois, and ultimately after much trial by fire, become the champion of Metropolis as Superman.

Familiar ground to be sure, culminating as it does in a confrontation with Lex Luthor where Superman promises he will always be around to foil Luthor's plans. If you're a hardcore Superman fan, much of this story will feel familiar to you. Wolfman outright says as much in his introduction, with the long delays this story suffered due to the series it was intended to release under being cancelled, causing similar ideas to be used in other stories. While I can't claim to know who Wolfman had in mind, I definitely saw similarities between his approach to Superman here and how Morrison rebooted him for the New 52.

Even then though, there are some fresh ideas and approaches to be found here that make this take stand out. First and foremost is their approach to the City of Metropolis itself.

This is not the clean Metropolis of Johns/Frank, or the high tech City of Tomorrow of Waid/Yu. Here, Metropolis is gritty, decaying, a City wholly rooted in the problems of today. An upcoming mayor election pits a right-wing candidate who wants to tackle crime with more police officers, vs. a left-wing candidate who wants to tackle the underlying roots of crime. The three janitors Clark works alongside have to work multiple jobs just to make ends meet, and are immigrants themselves also. A crime wave results in marital law, the curbing of civil rights, and the calling of the national guard "for the greater good". Newspapers Clark applies for tell him he needs to sensationalize his reporting more so the story will sell better. This is not a story with a wide-eyed view of what happens in the modern day when the kid from the countryside moves to the big city and tries to make it big. Despite being written in 2008. it could easily have been written today, a damning indictment of American society to be sure. Metropolis here feels real and fleshed out, and while my preference is for a Metropolis that embraces the freedom of being an entirely fictional creation, I appreciate how Wolfman digs into the human element via showing us the viewpoint of the citizens of Metropolis as Clark listens to them with superhearing, casting them as something of a Greek chorus reacting to the events of the story.

Of course not everything is perfect. Wolfman compares Clark becoming Superman to being a firefighter, a doctor, a soldier, and a cop at various points throughout the narrative. The first two I welcome and agree with. Later two however are extremely dicey, and although this is not a story that exempts our modern justice/policing system from a critical eye, (note that the main villain of the story in Lex endorses the right-wing "law and order" candidate to make sure you know which side the narrative supports) it still does not benefit Superman to have his uniform compared to that of a cop's.

As a side note, I love that Clark is explicitly poor here. I love that he struggles to make ends meet, that he's working as a janitor while he tries to make his dream of being a journalist for a prestige news organization come true. Being a cub reporter struggling to get a job, he's not living in a penthouse in the center of Metropolis. Clark is flat out broke, and living in a crappy apartment in the slums of the city. It's an approach that Morrison and Morales used for their Superman reboot, and I support that approach wholeheartedly. Establishing that Clark spent his first few years living in the poorer areas of Metropolis does wonders to support his reputation as the "Champion of the Oppressed".

In flashbacks to his Smallville childhood we see that financial struggles were a factor for him growing up, with Martha wanting to donate money to help feed families in need, while Jonathan was concerned about how tight their own finances are before relenting and agreeing. Of the entire Justice League, Superman is the one who has the strongest claim to being the "working class hero", the blue collar amidst all the blue bloods and middle class suburbanites. Most origins brush over Clark's financial situation growing up, but this one is of the rare few which does not, and I think it's all the stronger for it. Especially so given that this origin is similar to Batman: Year One in that it's really a Year One story for two characters - Lex as well as Superman.

Pitting Superman against Luthor in his first year is old hat, but what I adore about this take specifically is how Lex is explicitly in the "Bruce Wayne" role. Like Bruce, Lex has been gone from Metropolis for multiple years, and makes his return with a plan for reshaping Metropolis in his own image. He's a ruthless monster, willing to kill 500 of his own employees as part of a false flag attack against his own corporate headquarters to garner public sympathy and support. Here the playboy billionaire with a secret agenda and a complete disregard for the law is the villain not the hero. While Wolfman doesn't have the time or pages to dive deep into the rivalry between the two, the class warfare aspect of the feud between Superman and Lex really stood out to me here. Clark lives and works alongside the "little people" and helps them out how he can, meanwhile Lex callously slaughters them in pursuit of his own self-interest.

In the end Lex immediately recognizes that Superman is going to be a watershed moment in history, and is determined to change the world back to when he was on top. I would love a "Year 2" story from Wolfman that skips ahead a bit and pits Lex and another villain against Superman. He has a great handle on the star players here in Clark, Lex, Lois, Perry, and the elder Kents. Give him the Waid treatment and let him build out his own pocket universe if that's something he'd be interested in doing.

Man and Superman has convinced me that if Wolfman had gotten the chance to reboot Superman after Crisis the way he wanted to, I believe the character would have fared far better during the Post-Crisis era. Perhaps it would not have taken the character as long as it did to start putting the Dark Knight Returns stooge interpretation behind him. If this is the only major work Castellini ever does on the character, then I tip my hat to him for a job well done. Not every artist can bring a level of grit and realism to Superman's world without compromising the character, but he managed to pull it off expertly.

#superman #man and superman #marv wolfman #claudio castellini

[azulas-daddy-kink]

Sorry if it's been asked, but thoughts on Kiyi (and Ursa)?

My thoughts on Ursa are... complicated.

Kiyi though, I simply like to pretend she doesn't exist. She's just a stupid character, Yang's little Mary Sue OC who is there purely to serve his bizarre Anti-Azula agenda. She has no reason to exist, other than to tell the audience he thinks Azula is a terrible daughter and little sister who isn't worth her mother and brother's time, and should just be replaced. The fact that she ALSO calls Zuko "Zuzu" is particularly egregious... it's actually disgusting.

Now back to Ursa, where it gets dicey is that show Ursa and comics Ursa essentially aren't even the same character, and unfortunately the comics version is a lot more fleshed out. If I'm being honest, she has basically zero redeeming qualities, and not only that, Yang tried way too hard to make her the "one true victim TM".... and failed spectacularly. She just comes off petty, spiteful, selfish, and even kind of stupid.

Yes, it was selfish of her to FUCKING FORGET HER OWN KIDS.

Yes, it was petty, spiteful, and stupid of her to write that incriminating letter which states that Zuko is not Ozai's son. Stupid in the sense that it can be (and was) later used to threaten Zuko's position and discredit any claim he may have to the throne. Petty and spiteful in the sense that this was done purely to hurt Ozai's feelings BY HER OWN ADMISSION. Girl, what???? What the actual fuck were you thinking?!

Though, I do concede that Ursa was in a difficult situation, and is a victim of Ozai's abuse (possibly even a victim of marital rape as well). And this applies to both the comics and the OG cartoon - yes, anybody with half a brain can infer that Ozai treated his wife like shit, just as he treats everyone else around him like shit. So even if we disregard the comics, I am comfortable calling Ursa a victim of domestic abuse....

HOWEVER

...this DOES NOT excuse her abuse (yes, I said it!) of Azula, nor her blatant favoritism of Zuko. Favoring one child over another is emotional abuse. Neglect is emotional abuse. Emotional abuse is indeed "real" abuse. This is not an opinion, it is a fact.

"Ozai abused Ursa" and "Ursa abused Azula" are two extremely true statements that can and should coexist.

All of this being said, I am also comfortable calling Ursa a less than ideal (even bad) mother. Bottom line, if your kid grows up thinking you don't love them, you fucked up somewhere.

#anon ask #ask response #atla #fire nation royal family #ursa #kiyi #ursa critical #kiyi critical #atla comic critical

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets Thursday: Meddling Mar (part 1 of 2)

A two-part piece to avoid a super long post, jumping ahead to how Damas and Phobos got their suspicions about the boys confirmed (part two is Damas confronting Jak over it)

The net thumped against the supports of the dock as Phobos hauled it upward. The catch was small for the evening; normally she wouldn't have even considered bringing it in so early. But the scanners had picked up a storm blowing in, and the last thing she wanted was for her net to get dragged out over the reef -- or for the Scylla to get any ideas about free snacks if she decided to shelter in the lagoon. Small though the catch may have been, it would just have to suffice until the weather was more favorable. Phobos supposed she could always take another overnight trip for larger fish later in the week. Maybe Jak would agree to let Mar tag along.

Phobos's hands stilled over the net of wriggling greenbellies. She stared out at the water without really seeing it as her thoughts drifted to the two boys who had drifted into their lives. Or, drifted back into their lives.

She knew her son when she saw him. He could have been five or eight or twenty-five and she would have known him. Denial at this point was foolish. But what she couldn't understand was Jak.

Phobos knew the child she'd borne. Knew every curl on his head, every dimple and birthmark. But to her knowledge, she'd only given birth once. And Jak...

Jak looked at her with Mar's eyes. He smiled with Mar's left-cheek dimple. And according to Damas, beneath the scarf he never took off, Jak had Mar's portwine stain on the back of his neck.

Phobos didn't need the blood results from the monks to know who Jak was. What she didn't understand was why.

Why had the Precursors given their lost son back, in two different bodies? Why did the older Mar call himself Jak? How had he come to be? And did he even know the impossibility of his own existence?

The wind began to pick up, sending a spray of salt into Phobos's face. She sputtered and spat. Served her right for getting distracted. Grumbling to herself, the angler slung the net over a pole and balanced it across her shoulders. It was getting to be time to take shelter, and her dawdling meant she might not make it to the tower before the sands picked up.

As she trudged through the West Market, shops closed their shutters and people nailed down tarps over stands. The walls and cliffs would protect most of Spargus from the winds, but the West Quarter was open to the sea. Things sometimes got a little dicey on the coast.

"Captain!" Someone called across the street, and Phobos spotted one of the summer semester teachers for the little ones.

"Oye, Captain Phobos!"

"Wind's picking up, Korah," Phobos warned her, "Is everyone home?"

The younger Spargan shook her head with a worried frown. "Not yet! I've got Seek with me -- the new boy? Seek? -- he refuses to go home! Says he needs you."

Phobos dropped the net immediately.

"Clean the net and those are yours," she said hastily to the startled shopkeeper beside her. Then she raced across the street.

Sand was beginning to carry along the wind, stinging her face as she caught up to Korah.

"Where is-" She caught herself quickly before saying Mar. "Where is he?"

The teacher gestured with the stump of her right arm. "I convinced him to wait in the Chime Sisters' place so I could look for you. I'm sorry, Captain. I know you're busy. The little guy's really taken a shine to you, though."

She ducked into a half alley between shops, looking for some relief from the wind.

"Don't know if he's showed you any of his classwork or not, but he picked you for his presentation on important roles in the community."

Despite her worry, a warmth filled Phobos's chest. "I uh. I know," she answered, just a little bashful. "It's taped up in my boat cabin."

So much had changed. Mar didn't suck his thumb anymore. He didn't respond to old nicknames. He didn't snuggle anymore, or want to be carried. He didn't call her Mommy -- that one hurt most -- but something, something was still there. Perhaps it was instinct. Or perhaps she'd rebuilt it with her own two hands by simply being present.

Phobos followed Korah to the two story building that held the Chime sisters' shop and apartment. Just as the teacher had said, Mar sat just inside, huddled next to the door with his knees drawn to his chest. He looked sullen. Like he couldn't decide between anger and sadness. Immediately, Phobos knelt in front of him with a worried frown.

"It's about to storm, minnow," she said, "Why aren't you home? Where's Jak, he usually picks you up by now, doesn't he?"

Apparently this was the wrong thing to say. Mar's brows fell into a fierce scowl.

"Jak left me!" he answered in short, terse signs.

That didn't make any sense. Jak was devoted to his little brother! Phobos glanced at the women sheltering around her and then back at Mar.

"I'll take him up to Damas’s," she said. "We'll get this straightened out after the storm blows over."

Nadia Chime clucked her tongue and nodded. "You get that little sprout out of this weather, cap'n!'

Phobos held her hands out to Mar. "Come on, you. Let's go see Damas, eh? Bet you he kept Jak late for training again."

Mar shook his head angrily. This time, tears beaded up in his eyes. But he reached out and grabbed Phobos's hands anyway, using them as leverage to propel himself into her arms.

Something was very wrong.

"Hey, hey," Phobos murmured, returning the embrace, "It's okay, baby, I've got you."

She shoved down the beginnings of anxiety fluttering in her stomach. The sooner she got to the tower, the sooner she could regroup with Damas.

"We need to move fast if we don't want to get sandburn. Can I carry you, minnow?"

Silently, Mar nodded into her chest. Phobos took a breath, scooped up her little boy, and made a dash for the residential sector.

Something's wrong with Jak. He's hurt, or he's sick, he must be. He wouldn't leave Mar. He wouldn't!

By the time she'd made it to the bridge tunnel that led to the tower door, the storm was beginning to sweep across the eastern part of the city. Wind howled down streets an alleys like a dune-wolf looking for prey, and kangarats scurried for cover while Leapers bedded down and covered their heads with their vestigial wings, as they did in the wild. Phobos hefted Mar higher in her arms and made for the door marked with the great spiral wyrm.

"Almost inside, Mar," she said, trying to comfort him.

Just as he had every time she'd slipped his name into conversation before, the child failed to correct her.

The walls of the tower were thick, almost erasing the wind entirely. Phobos stepped into the elevator and sat down as it rose. She set Mar down on her lap and took advantage of the silence to ask, "What did you mean "Jak left"? Is he on a mission?"

Mar still looked angry, but tears stained his dusty cheeks. "He left!" Stupid Haven's stupid governor whined about all the trouble happening -- but it's only happening because they tried to kill us, so stupid Jak left to keep them away from Spargus because they're all so STUPID!"

Phobos felt a knot forming in her stomach.

"Haven?! Why the- why in the world would Jak listen to them? And why would he try to keep them away from the city by himself?"

And with that, the dam burst. The silent trickles of tears turned into sobs that shook Mar's little body as he signed, "Because of me. I'm a bad brother."

"What?! No, nonono you are not a bad brother!" Phobos wiped tears from round cheeks and rocked her son back and forth. "Why would you think that?!"

"Cause it's my fault he left!" Mar hiccuped, and his signs shook. "The Council guys in Haven are looking for me, cos I go where Jak goes. And he- he- he-"

"He left so the council would look for you somewhere else," Phobos guessed grimly.

A fresh flood of tears soaked the front of her tunic as Mar cried. He clung to her the way he used to as a toddler, wailing into her chest. The elevator locked into place and Damas was already running towards them, having heard the cries, before Phobos even had a chance to stand up.

"Pho! What's wrong? What's happening?"

Phobos's face was pale as she looked up at him.

"Daym," she asked, "When did you last see Jak?"

Damas’s blood ran cold.

Part Two

#fic prompts #writing prompts #jak and daxter #dadmas #king damas #jak and daxter au #free day thursday #meddling mar #meddling mar au #jak and daxter mar #captain phobos #this is when Jak goes back to Haven #he's going to be extremely grounded when he gets back #especially because the monks finally get results on the dna test while he's in haven

[mcnuggyy]

✨ Rainbow Factory TTRPG! ✨

HIII!!!! As promised here is my silly little reskin of KOB (kids on bikes/brooms)!!! :o] <3

EDIT: This post got a bit long eek!! sorry!! if you just wanna see the silly stuff I did then just check out the links! You can ignore all the other text on this post jajaja!

Mini Rule Book  ( for GMs & Players!)

PDF Version!  

Here is the document I gave all my players beforehand! This is a simplification of all the KOB rules, character creation process, and the worldbuilding for Unicopia! Please feel free to use as much or as little of it as you like for your game! It goes step by step through the character creation process and has a wide variety of examples and references. I try to be as thorough as possible but ofc I may have missed something! Please feel free to make up what i miss or shoot me a message if you're really curious jaja!

Here is a jpg of the Player Character Sheet of needed! :o]

RFTTRPG: NPC Stats & BG Characters! (For GMs!)

This is what I used while GMing! Feel free to use these as you like! I tried to keep it simple and loose for the big characters like Hev and Trixie! And even simpler for the background characters. I didn't give the BG chars any stats as I knew I wouldn't need them for the one-shot I was running but please feel free to make your own BG chars, and stats, and all of that good stuff!

I also have a rough RF building chart for exploration! Our campaign was set inside the Rainbow Factory so it felt like a good idea to make this for my players! However please feel free to set your one-shot anywhere else in Unicopia! I hope to make a map of  the districts one day to add to the mini rule book later on! :o] You can also set it at another Happiness Factory such as the Tear Factory or Heart Factory! You could even have your unicorns visit Earth! The world is your oysta! ♡ 

Overall I tried to keep everything super simple and clear for both myself and my friends! I imagine other Factories in smaller districts would be much smaller than this but this is a rough idea of what I think most of them would sort of be like!

RFFTTRPG: One-shot Ideas & More! (For GM's)

I love love loved using the KOB system and reskinning it for my silly little world! and I love when a TTRPG gives you nice sort of rules to follow while still being super free and open in other aspects! It made it  easy for me to just come up with a simple problem/plot for my players! However I know coming up with something from scratch is also super intimidating and overwhelming! So here is the idea I did, along with some others I've thought of for fun! (and might even do in future games jejeje)

Kid on the Run!  This is super Monsters Inc inspired. Have the party over at a Factory for any reason you choose. I chose a tour/ted talk hosted by the lovely Trixie! It can also be a company party, or breaking and entering, or they already work there, etc.! Have one of the portals go haywire allowing a child to enter Unicopia! It's now up to the party to not only capture the child but return them back home safe and sound to the human world! All while keeping the child secret from the rest of unicornkind! RF: Happiness Special Forces The Counsel has decided to create a special task team in charge of going down to earth! Go undercover and stop those who cause great risk to Unicornkind! This could be stopping a huge evil corporation that is creating an excess amount of unhappiness, reducing the magic of Unicopia. Or having to go in and save multiple children in danger such as a field trip gone wrong! Or making an adult human who remembered their childhood unicorn forget about them again before things get dicey! Your players will have to keep their existence as unicorns a secret, all while saving their world, and exploring Earth as characters who may be unfamiliar with humans and their ways! Unicorn Hunters & the End of Unicopia What if unicorns biggest threat finally found out where they had been hiding all this time? and not just knew but had access to a portal? It's up to the players to stop them at all costs and save their world.  A high stakes adventure full of lore, magic, and potential unexpected allies!  The Daily Life of a Field Op/Happy Tech This is more of a slice of life concept! This would work well for smaller parties of 1-4 Players! Have your Players form teams and deal with the daily troubles a helping a kid/teen/pre-teen  as a Field op or Happy Tech! (You could even have one of your Players play one of the kids themselves!) While still balancing their social lives, self needs, etc.! A look inside what it's like for Unicopias most essential workers, their interpersonal dramas, relationships, etc. Great for those who love character centric collaboritive storytelling!

ANYWAYS!!! Sorry for the ridiculously long post </3 I just wanted to cover all my bases in case someone decides they wanna play this reskin!! If you do end up playing pleaseee let me know eeek!! very very exciting!!! <3 regardless i hope you have fun looking at all this silly stuff I did to make my friends smile and laugh :o]

You can check out our one-shot over on my Patreon yahoo!

#ocs #the rainbow factory #rf:ttrpg #ttrpg #homebrew #kids on bikes reskin #i know it might seem weird to play w my world and ocs but please know you have my whole loving permission #kill trixie. kiss kay. explode the world #do whatever as long as you are having a fun and silly time amen

[captain-krow-drozdov]

2012 TMNT x ROTTMNT Crossover Idea Thingy (Disaster Twins Edition)

So Basically, Donnie And Leo Hear Through The Ye Ol Grapevine That Big Mama Has Got Her Hands On A Rather Interesting Mystical Doohickey That Will Supposedly Summon Skilled Fighters For Her Battle Nexus From Other Timelines/Universe's.

The Twins Basically Go Fuck It We Ball To This And Start To Plan A Little Recon Mission, Cause Honestly Sounds Fake But Bet. And Well Since This Recon Mission Happens To Land On Their Twins Only Bonding Day They Might As Well Confused The Fuck Outta Anyone At The Hotel Who Manages To See Them. So They Pull The One Prank Every Set Of Twins/Siblings Has To Pull At Least Once, Pretend To Be The Other, Or More Specifically Two Leos.

Rise Donnie Goes Full Cosplay On This Shit, My Guy Has A Battle Shell Made To Look Exactly Like Leos Shell, He Paints On Leo's Markings, He's Wearing One Of Leo's Spare Blue Bandanas And Each Twin Has One Of Leo's Mystic Katanas (A Back Up Escape Plan In Case Things Go Sideways) And A Normal Replica Katana. Donnie Looks Like A Mirror Image Of Leo, Granted Donnie And Leo's Red And Blue Eyes Have Always Mirrored The Others.

They Get To Big Mama's Hotel And The Plans Going Well Enough So They Split Up (Keeping In Touch Via Mind Meld/Twin Telepathy BS) To Look For More Information, This Leads To Donnie Getting Found And The Plan Changing To Donnie Playing Distraction For Big Mama Via Fighting In The Battle Nexus (The Twins Aren't Too Scared Because Leo Can Teleport Donnie Out If Things Get Dicey And Donnie Can Fight Perfectly Fine Without Any High Tech/Mystic Stuffs Anyhow) And Leo Looking For Any Concrete Info/Mystic Doohickey That Is Possibly Summoning Potentially Dangerous Fuckers.

Now The 2012 Bois On The Other Hand Have No Idea What The Shit Is Going On, It's Been A Shitty Day Okay Man? They Were Just Minding Their Business Then The Next Thing They Know Is Weird Glowy Hamato Clan Symbols Appear Underneath Them And Then One World's Worst Uber Ride Later They Are In A Not So Graceful Turtle Pile On The Floor In Front Of A Giant Spider Mutant Who Just Called Them "Turtly-Boos~".

Said Giant Spider Lady Oh So Kindly Informed Them (In Words That Mikey Is Pretty Sure Aren't Real) That They Will Be Her New Battle Nexus Champions, Which Leads Them To Where They Are Now Sitting In Holding Cell Waiting To Be Sent Out Into Some Sort Of Underground Mutant Gladiator Pitt Still Woozy From Previously Mentioned 0/5 Star Uber Ride And Thoroughly Done™ With The Day.

Now You See Leo Has Outsmarted Big Mama A Few Too Many Times In Her Opinion And She Isn't Above Setting Him Up In A Four Against One Fight, Because Well What's More Fun Than One Ninja Turtly-Boo Throwing Hands With People? Why Five Ninja Turtly-Boos Fighting Each Other Of Course!

Donnie Is Just Vibing With The Chaos At This Point (The Fights He's Been In So Far Weren't Too Hard To Be Completely Honest) And The Ring Is Empty At The Moment, The Announcer Going On A Long Winded Spiel About The Next Opponents That Donnie Had Long Since Tuned Out In Favor Of Touching Base With Leo On His Progress. Leo Apparently Had Confirmed The Existence Of The Aforementioned Mystic Doohickey And Worse He Found Out It's Already Been Used At Least Once And He's Currently Planing On How To Steal It Since They're Already Here.

Donnie Is About To Respond When His Four New Opponents Appear. Some Rather Familiar Looking Color Coded Turtles Who May Or May Not Be Ninjas... Shit. Well That Answers What The Mystic Doohickey Does And Well Donnie Has Always Wondered If He'd Win In A Fight Against An Alternate Version Of Himself... So He Raises The Katanas And Sends Leo A Simple But Clear Message, "You Owe Me $20 The Multiverse Is Real And I'm About To Four V One Our Alternative Selves."

(That's All I Got Tbh, Otherwise My Brain Says Donnie Fights For Appearances And Well Fun (They Are The Disaster Twins After All) As Leo Attempts To Get The Mystic Doohickey Before They Call Off Stealing The Mystic Doohickey For Now Before Alternate Turtle Bros Get Hurt, Leo Teleports To Donnie Then Portals Them All Out Of The Battle Nexus And Back To The Lair Where Leo And Donnie Do Rock Paper Scissors Over Who Has To Tell Dad And Raph What Went Down. 2k12 Bros Are Trying To Figure Out Why This Universe Has Two Leo's And No Donnie To Be Seen, Miscommunication Ensues Via The Twin Just Going With It. Rise Fam Are This 👌 Close To Putting The Twins On Child Leashes.)

#this has been in my head for so long #rottmnt #tmnt 2k12 #rottmnt disaster twins #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt big mama #random mystic bullshit for plot reasons #the twins are menaces and they will drag Mikey April or the Caseys into their tom fuckery depending on whos most willing #2k12 bois are the equivalent of the teen who just woke up meme #the rottmnt bois are literally supersoldiers and i want people to acknowledge that more often #rottmnt x 2012 #Captain's Posts