#and whenever we are included its only ever for woke points

[phoenixyfriend]

Dear Creator Letter: Anakin-Clone Appreciation Exchange

Organized as:

General/Setting Likes

Gender Stuff

Setting AUs I like

About the ships

DNW with clarifications

General Likes:

Working with/around PTSD with each other

Asexual or ace-spec characters (doesn’t have to be explicit, just an underlying Vibe is fine)

hurt/comfort (NOT whump)

Generally I like ships being really sweet with each other, even when the sex or kink is rougher

I enjoy pretty much any kind of gender play, including:

Character is now Nonbinary

Trans (in the direction of canon)

Trans (in the direction opposite canon)

Questioning/Experimenting

Fluid

Magic sex swaps of the ‘woke up with my body a different reproductive setup, am learning the meaning of gender euphoria’ variety

Whatever the hell Ranma ½ technically is

Cisswaps (born a different cis gender) so long as it’s not used primarily to turn a same gender ship into a het ship

I do like AUs of all sorts, so long as the core of the character is intact, with vibes to match. This includes:

Time-travel, fix-its

Arranged/political marriage

Soulmate AU

Background or role swap AUs

Omegaverse (WITHOUT exaggerated omegaverse sexism or cissexism at all, and without mild/moderate sexism or cissexism as major plot points)

Modern AU - chill bakery/coffee shop/bookstore/beekeeper stuff - classy criminal playing cat and mouse with the FBI agent trying to catch them - “oh no, you’re my teenager’s English teacher and this parent-teacher conference just got very awkward because we started dating over the summer before I knew” - one of them is a celebrity - literally just whatever

Historical Fantasy (mostly for the fashion and/or if the author gets really invested in things like trade routes and agricultural pressures and inane tax law)

History AU, but only if you go the Bridgerton route of Fun And Funky Tropes Without The Racism

Royal Fantasy

Soulmate

Role Swap (does not have to be between the ship!)

Backstory swap (e.g. Never a Jedi AU, Raised a Sith AU, Senator of Tatooine AU, etc.)

For Want of a Nail

Faustian Castle AU

ABOUT THE SHIPS

These are not prompts! These are just me trying to explain why/how I ship them, the vibes I usually go for, or the kinks I associate with them.

Cody&Anakin or Cody/Anakin I think Cody is tentatively respectful and unimpressed by Anakin. I've got a whole post about it.

Rex&Anakin, Rex/Anakin, and Rex/Cody/Anakin I don't think Rexwalker needs much explanation. We all know the draw there. As for Codexwalker... I need them to share him. I need Anakin flustered. I need Rex flustered. I need Cody laughing at them.

Any given mix of Anakin with Fives, Echo, and Hardcase A ship of shenanigans! I do want Fives and Echo treated as a set whenever possible. Doesn't matter if they're both dating Anakin, or if one is dating him and the other is wingmanning like kingdom come, just need them to be A Set.

Fox&Anakin or Fox/Anakin Reluctance, suspicion, and a slow growth of trust is the name of the game. Fox is so very guarded and he is JUST as unimpressed by Anakin's nonsense as Cody, but with far less cause or inclination to trust or develop affection for Anakin.

Rex&Vader or Rex/Vader Bring that boy back to the light, baby.

Kix/Anakin or Kix&Anakin Not too grumpy of a medic, please. He's soft-spoken in canon, yeah? Also I like the idea that Kix is eager to prove himself to Anakin in non-medical settings. He's already proven himself as a medic! Let him prove his kissing skills!

Alpha-17/Anakin Alpha is challenging Anakin to prove himself. He is even less impressed than Cody. He is mean about it. I'm not sure if he'll ever like Anakin, but he might tolerate him long enough to have a grudging fondness after Anakin manically destroys a walker that was about to crush him or something.

Regarding my unwanted list/clarification on my DNWs

DNW that don’t need much elaboration:

incest (cloneshipping is fine)

bestiality

minor/adult ships - age difference of less than three years is fine - major age difference where both are adults is fine

Reader inserts, major inclusion of original characters

Lower body fluids (talking about blood or saliva is fine; excrement is not), vomit

Sick fic (injury recovery is fine)

IDK I just get nothing out of most sick fic

Non-canon Dark Histories meant only to make someone more sympathetic or pitiable (e.g. especially Rape as Backstory)

Downer endings (includes breakups that are not resolved)

Smoking/cigarettes/alcohol/recreational drug use

General sexism or bigotry as a major theme, or from one member of the ship to the other, as well as bigotry-based dirty talk

Moderate to extreme sexism or cissexism for omegaverse

anti-intersexuality bias, usage of 'intersex’ for dualsex (they’re not the same thing)

Misgendering

Particularly dark topics, including: - Noncon - major character death (I’m fine with “Tarkin died and that sure is impacting the war” but “the main character’s younger sister just died and the plot revolves around the grief” is a bit much) - underage sexual content - adultery/infidelity - whump - unresolved terminal illness - suicide - self-harm - domestic abuse - child abuse

To keep things simple, no nsfw for this one

Basic character/setting things:

Werewolf or folklore AUs.

No character bashing. I know the event already has this as a rule, but I want to make sure it's clear that I don't want ANYONE bashed, not just Anakin and the clones. - By this, I mean vilifying them based on negative fanon or otherwise non-canon actions or behaviors (e.g. Anakin mind-controlling Padme into a relationship), or stories that prioritize punishing a character for their narrative crimes in the plot, especially in a way that is inconsistent with the setting or characters doing the punishment (e.g. Padme or the Jedi being incredibly harsh with Anakin about the Tusken Massacre, despite Padme moving past it easily in canon, and the Jedi displaying extreme forgiveness and providing rehabilitation to other characters that Fall, like Quinlan). -The whole Anakin/Consequences movement is one that I dislike immensely. If you don’t know what it is, you’re probably not doing it. If you do know what it is, then you know what I mean here. - It is very common/popular to write Qui-Gon as a neglectful, cold, or downright abusive caregiver/parent figure to the children in his care. I do not like this in the slightest.

For some reason, a lot of writers are very casual about violating a character’s bodily autonomy “for their own good.” I don’t like this (unless it’s horror, but that’s a different topic), and ask that you refrain from having characters do something like that for a person’s own good unless there are some massive extenuating circumstances. Please, for the love of god, do not have characters nonconsensually drug each other with sleeping pills as an act of care unless it's meant to be a sign of how dark and fucked up they are. Like, if Vader is drugging someone 'for their own good,' that's one thing, but...

I’m pro-Jedi and pro-New Mandos. I do not want anything that suggests they: - deserved what happened to them - needed to change or learn to accept more militant values/that attachment is good - were stealing/brainwashing children or engaging in cultural genocide - Traviss-style Mando Supremacy is a no-go - This isn’t technically a DNW because it’s too difficult for the mods to enforce, but I’m not a huge fan of large amounts of Mando'a. If it makes sense for a scene (as in, characters are speaking Basic to one another and would include Mando'a for contextually necessary reasons) or has connotations that can’t be translated, then sure, but dropping in “ad'ika” or “gar gai” every few lines grates on me. Translation convention, please!

I do like the True Mandos but please don’t lionize them.

I have minimal interest in the Original Trilogy and no interest in the Sequels; my mind is squarely in the Prequels and pre-canon era. - That said, I do delight in having baby versions of the characters present; I am always open to toddler Skywalker twins cameo. - I’m not very into the Bad Batch. Cameos are fine.

No Barr*ssoka. No, not even as a background thing.

No Cod*wan. No, not even as a background thing. Preferably, no Jedi Master/Clone ships at all, but especially not Obi-Wan/Clones. (Knight/Clones is fine).

No Master/Padawan. I have exceptions when reading, but for an exchange, I’d prefer not to have any in my gift.

Vilifying Padme in the process of explaining why she isn’t with Anakin. She can be an ex, they could be in an open relationship, they could have not gotten in a relationship at all and just stayed friends, I don’t care, just… be nice about her.

The suggestion that Padme was mind-controlled into loving Anakin.

If you write Rebellion/OT setting versions of the ships, please don’t go hard on the clones being Old.

The word wh*re is considered a slur among many sex workers, and while I’m not among that category, I feel uncomfortable seeing it in contexts that don’t really justify it. If it’s a matter of characterization, to signify a character is a bad person, or part of a rougher underground community where it’s an in-group term, or a period setting, that’s one thing, but just as a part of dirty talk or an accusation or teasing? No, no thank you.

#star wars #dear creator #dear creator letter #exchanges

[catgirlelric]

hey if anyone knows any good sci-fi/fantasy stuff with specifically transfem major or main characters can you send it my way i am feeling spectacularly bummed about never seeing myself in the kinds of stories that i like. massive bonus points if its wlw

#i just feel like i read so much wlw stuff but literally none of it has any trans women #and if they do happen to be there they're always like. the friend or the helper or something #never the main character #and i feel like. #im seeing more trans characters in the type of genre media i consume #but they're all transmasc #like the only stuff i ever see with trans women as the main characters is stuff that i'm not interested in #like pose or euphoria #like thats all well and good but why are stories about trans women always vaguely sad-looking dramas #like why do we never get to be the fucking like fantasy heroes or space explorers or whatever #even in like self-published webcomics i go into the transgender tag on tapas #and for every abandoned comic with a transfem main character #there's about a hundred stories of all kinds with transmasc mcs #like is there something that makes us less palatable to creators or what. #i just feel like im about ready to tear my hair out here i feel like theres walls surrounding me just like all the time #like no one writes about us. no one draws us. even when i see artists who draw nothing but wlw art hardly any of it has trans women #its just like what the hell #it constantly feels like we're an afterthought #and whenever we are included its only ever for woke points #like maybe one of those wlw artists will draw a nice little piece for tdov or something #and then immediately go back to ignoring us for the rest of the year #im just so tired. like when will i get to see trans women in the stories i like to read #when will i get to pick up a book that everyone's recommending for wlw romance and see a trans woman in one of those main roles #its just so tiring and im honestly just sick of feeling like this. like just. abandoned. an afterthought #sorry for the massive rant in the tags #im just. anyways this is why representation in media is important

[seacottons]

—ateez as boyfriends [ domestic au ]

notes: swearing. suggestive dialogue. fluff. i blame a certain someone for this, not gonna say who. @kireiwoo

— hongjoong

very caring and attentive towards you

so much so, that even his friends have complained how it isn't fair he doesn't scold you like the way he does to them

he enjoys many activities with you, such as

helping him dye his hair an ungodly color every other month

he'll insist you try experimenting with your own tresses

but you only have the courage to dye the very ends of your strands

"i don't think i can pull off that color as well as you do," you'd say.

"that's a load of bull. you'll suit every hair color."

you'll just roll your eyes playfully at his biased behavior.

other activities include getting tiny matching tattoos together.

the tiny flower and butterfly on your wrists was most likely your favorite due to its simplicity in design and the meaning behind it as well.

spontaneous dates are his favorite.

behind closed doors, he loves to constantly shower you with pecks and smooches.

often gets teased by his friends from how whipped he is for you.

randomly books vacations for you two to relax and unwind every so often.

although he enjoys it, he is a big, tired baby when it comes to traveling

always wanting to lean his head against your shoulder

or cuddling you close for warmth due to the airport's air conditioners blasting frigid air.

has written many songs about you

and when he's finally ready, he'll not only ask you to listen to them, but to also spend the rest of your life with him and share his last name as well.

— seonghwa

constant pet names

"darling."

"the sun to my stars."

"the moon to my sun."

"love of my life."

you like to call him mars, mostly.

but he revels when you call him 'twinkle eyes' for some reason.

has a habit of pulling you into his lap.

you'll subconsciously play with the strands of his hair as he does so, him being too distracted bickering with his friends to realize sometimes.

will always give you pleading looks whenever wooyoung or san tease him.

sometimes, you walk in to find wooyoung settling onto your boyfriend's back while he greedily devours the bowl of popcorn entirely by himself.

or other times when both wooyoung and san constrict his limbs with their arms whenever you're near.

"y/n can't save you now, so cut the whining."

you'll only sigh and shake your head in amusement.

"what are you guys doing to my poor boyfriend?"

"he changed the movie we were watching without our permission!"

"because i have no damn clue what's going on, and harry potter is too confusing!"

coffee dates.

loves to sleep with you tucked against his chest.

always has an arm draped around your frame.

butterfly kisses on your neck.

soft touches against the small of your back and waist.

his favorite pastime with you would be stargazing.

"baby, look. it's me, mars-io," he'd say whilst pointing up to the large, bright star in the night sky.

when it's too cloudy outside, or when the weather isn't forgiving, he'll turn on the indoor star projector he bought so the two of you can stargaze in the comfort of your own bed.

— yunho

is the epitome of romantic.

is constantly smothering you in love and affection.

always has heart eyes and admiration in his eyes at whatever small task you do or say.

rant about an ancient dynasty?

heart eyes.

bombard him with useless information about a certain abandoned island.

heart eyes.

gush about the new cute bakery that recently opened up?

heart eyes.

if you had a money jar for every time he says 'i love you', you'd have enough money to buy a plane ticket or two.

always willing to drop everything to help you with whatever it is you need.

will wake up in the middle of the night when you text him to ask if he's awake or not.

willingly stays up to keep you company.

but sometimes, when he's too tired, he'll knock out accidentally and profusely apologize to you in the morning.

very supportive of your life choices.

hates seeing you cry because it makes him want to bawl his eyes out as well.

his hugs are bone-crushing.

but he is a gentle giant nonetheless.

likes to attempt to bake pastries with you.

half of the time, the goods either turn out undercooked or burnt.

"they have love in them, that's all that matters."

will always insist that you can rant to him about anything and everything.

you've never felt so valued in your life before meeting him.

is the most understanding human being you've ever gotten the pleasure of knowing.

"i wish we were vampires," he says one day.

you give him an amused look, lips outstretched into a smile, "why, silly?"

"so we can spend an eternity together."

— yeosang

his heart flutters when you notice the smallest things he does.

it makes him feel appreciated and acknowledged.

like when he changes up his hairstyle or earrings.

or when he wears a new sweater.

a big, big softie when it comes to you.

can and will want to spend all day in your arms on his days off.

quick witted and has a knack for noticing the tiniest detail.

very shy and awkward at first.

but when he gets more comfortable as time passes on, you won't be safe from his snarky little comments anymore.

will constantly bring up the thing you said or did months ago to prove a point.

"oh, you like this flavor? three months ago you told me it tasted like vomit."

"remember that time you woke up in a rush to get to work thinking you were late, only for me to drag you back inside because it was three in the fucking morning?"

you stop mid-chew and peer up from your plate of rice.

"your point, yeosang?"

"oh, nothing this time. i just wanted to tease you."

is the type to have a mid-life crisis when you can't decide on a restaurant.

"but i don't want to eat at the chicken place again," you'll whine.

"it's been thirty minutes, and you still haven't decided what you want!"

"you're rushing me!"

"y/n! just pick!"

loves to cuddle with you, especially in the colder months.

wraps a blanket around your frame and tugs you in closer against his chest.

pretends not to understand your jokes just to spite and tease you.

loves when you cling onto him.

his favorite pastime with you would be just walking around together at night and trying out different types of street food.

or even visiting any of the local beaches for a relaxing walk together.

— san

persistently keen about whenever you feel upset or down.

he reads you better than any open book.

sometimes, it scares you, but you appreciate how he's always so eagle-eyed about your behavior.

loves to hug your head.

you allow wooyoung to crash some of your dates with san sometimes.

other times, san will whine and tell him to go find his own date.

"if y/n accepted you as a boyfriend, then you should've disclosed that i'm part of the deal as well. buy one get one free."

"as what exactly?"

"the hot, clingy best friend."

will take numerous duck-faced selfies of himself because you think they're cute.

often times, he'll ask you to mirror his expression, only for him to press his lips against yours a second before his phone snaps the picture.

likes when you kiss his dimple.

"y/n! it looks like a crater from the amount of times you've kissed it."

he likes to tease you.

a lot.

touchy.

very touchy.

always has an arm around you.

rests his chin against your shoulders.

playfully smacks your rear when you're sassy with him.

or leans in to hold your jaw whilst whispering teasing words into your ear that has you becoming docile and bothered in mere seconds.

has you wrapped around his finger as much as you have him wrapped around your own.

likes to have weekly picnics with you at the park and admires all the dogs running about.

"i should bring byeol next week. maybe she'll like to play fetch too."

"i don't think that's a good idea.."

you often find him fast asleep holding onto a plushie for dear life whenever you're away.

you'll pull it away from his arms, causing him to stir awake groggily.

he'll stare in confusion as you throw the plushie aside, before pulling you in tighter as you wriggle into his arms.

"you're softer than shiber," he'll mumble sleepily against the crown of your head.

— mingi

mingi is sometimes self-conscious around the public eye and others, but when it comes to you, those layers of fear and insecurity get stripped away instantly.

doesn't mind being vulnerable with you.

he craves affection, adores it even, but is insecure about not being able to return it well enough for his liking.

likes when you give him attention.

easily gets jealous when someone else grabs your interest.

reassuring him 24/7.

"yes, mingi. you're the love of my life."

kissing his pouting lips for good measure.

the smallest of gestures has him a blushing mess.

even holding hands in public.

when he's not being a sentimental sap, he'll like teasing you lovingly.

"wow, you have this many photos of me in your phone?"

you'll scrutinize him in confusion.

"are you that obsessed with me, y/n?"

"mingi! you told me to take half of those photos of you!"

"oh, right. i forgot."

a silence weighs down onto the two of you.

"but would you have taken them if i never asked you to?"

constantly laughs about the things you say, although you don't think you're that funny.

always seeks your approval subconsciously.

will always shield you from the rain, playfully yelling at the droplets sometimes.

"you can't make y/n wet! only i can!"

"mingi! we are in public!"

wanted to go strawberry picking because he saw a celebrity try it out on instagram live.

accidentally steps on many berries though.

"it's okay, they'll just make another plant. i did them a favor."

brags about you like no tomorrow.

even for the tiniest, minuscule thing.

"oh, i've already tried the brand of ice cream. y/n always buys that for me."

"i don't need to pay all this money for a measly slice of cake. y/n's cakes are much better."

"no, wooyoung. i'm not jealous of your new shoes." he'll lightly pinch the boy's side, "y/n and i have already bought ourselves matching pairs."

"you two are so fucking cheesy, it hurts."

when he's not bragging about you, he's boasting about himself.

but if that's what helps him raise his confidence levels up, you'll gladly sit down hours on end listening to how he has more 'swag' and 'charisma' than all of his older friends combined.

— wooyoung

teases you like his life depends on it.

says you can't get enough of him, when in reality it's the other way around.

but you let him believe whatever he wants.

but deep down he just really gets satisfied with himself if he raises your mood and makes you smile.

especially when you're not having a great day.

uses way too many emojis when texting you.

"wooyoung, why am i saved as as 'clingy bug' on your contacts?"

he'll squawk indignantly and laugh awkwardly for a second.

"who told you this lie!?"

"seonghwa?"

always wants to show off your love in front of his friends.

"no, i don't want my early birthday gift now. wait until the others show up, and do it front of them."

"but why?"

"so everyone can see how much you love me. can you also cry for good measure?"

"absolutely not."

he enjoys the dates you have in his apartment the most.

the ones where he cooks for you and asks for your help, only for him to pester you about over-seasoning or undersalting something.

"okay, fine! we'll just order take out if it tastes that bad," you pout, flinging a small piece of onion on his face.

his head instantly snaps back to eye you judgingly, fist gripping the poor spatula.

"over my dead body."

"so, y/n. how does my plating look?"

"it's beautiful, wooyoung. you've outdone y-"

"what else is beautiful?" he demands, face leaning over the table to give you a knowing grin.

you shove a piece of meat and rice into his mouth, shrugging nonchalantly.

"me."

he deflates at your answer, spluttering pieces of rice onto your face.

"jung wooyoung, you slob!"

— jongho

is the type of boyfriend to stop you in the middle of the road to tie your shoe for you.

very charming and goofy in his own way.

takes pride in himself and his abilities to cater to your every whim and need.

even when you don't ask for his help.

aggressively opens jars for you when you struggle to pry them open.

"no one messes with my y/n."

"you're fussing at a jar of pickled radish, baby."

the type to cling close to you in public in fear of any of the bicyclists or pedestrians bumping into you and harming you in any way.

sometimes acts like you're made of glass.

while it's endearing occasionally, it is a bit suffocating at other times.

doesn't believe you when you say you're tough and don't need protection.

very selfless and willing to help you with anything you need.

never one to shy away from social gatherings with his friends, always pulling you along with him despite you being shy and clingy most of the night.

also a big tease.

when you help him hold down his legs for sit ups, he asks for a smooch.

pulls away from you when you try to kiss him.

and will laugh at your pouting face as he urges you to try once more.

"stop moving, i just want to kiss you!"

after numerous tries, he finally allows you ( you truly think you over-powered him though ) to kiss his cheeks or lips.

he then proceeds to squawk loudly in retaliation and playful disgust.

although he loves teasing you, when the game is flipped the other way, he'll be a shy mess of embarrassment.

"i don't mumble your name in my sleep."

"you always do, silly."

tucked underneath his macho exterior, you know he's prone to criticism and takes it to heart much more than he likes to show and admit.

so, whenever you get the chance, you always fulfill his need to be appreciated, loved, and taken care of.

is utterly and extremely protective of you.

"who just whistled at you?" he grumbles, "i'll break their jaw like an apple, you know i will."

#ateez headcanons #ateez x reader #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #choi san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader

[pagingdoctorbedlam]

"I read our kid a book about the things snowmen do at night and now we’re taking a walk at two in the morning to show them the actual snowmen don’t do anything"

Could you do this one with kaku? It seems very much up his alley 💛

-evilhorses

Welp, this resulted in the cutest fluffiest thing I've ever written, but maybe that's what we all need this Winter. I hope you enjoy! (and for the rest of you, you can request your own winter prompt here!)

Characters: Reader x Kaku (with a child of unspecified name/gender), mentions of assorted other One Piece characters.

Word Count: ~1300 words

Warnings: None. Though I know some of my followers aren't big on kidfic, so be ye warned that a child's about in this one.

A few hours ago, the entire situation seemed cute. Tonight's a rare night where both you and Kaku are home to put your little one to sleep, and Kaku had found a new picture book for the winter season. He'd read the book about snowmen and their nighttime activities, making sure to give all the snowmen voices that made your child giggle under the covers. You'd "assisted" by pantomiming the actions all the fictional snowmen took when the rest of the world was asleep, such as skiing and snowball fights. All good, innocuous fun. You'd both kissed your little one goodnight and spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other's company, and that should've been the end of things.

Except, your child always sees the world through a lens of youthful imagination and wonder. And why not? Daddy can run and parkour around the city like he's made of the wind itself (and sometimes he takes your child along for the ride, giving you a heart attack only whenever you catch them in the act). Every unofficial uncle and aunt has weird quirks that can seem magical, from Lucci's "talking" pigeon to the tricks Kalifa can pull off with bubbles. Because of this, even compared to other kids in the same age group, yours has a runaway imagination that can prove hard to stop.

Hence why, early in the morning when you get up to chase some racoons away from your garbage with a broom, you happen to spy a pair of wide doe-eyes (same as Daddy's) peering out from the window.

"What are you doing up so late?" you stage-whisper as you absently swatted at the racoons.

"Shh!" Your kiddo responds, with one finger raised to lips. "They've gotta' think I'm asleep."

"The raccoons?" Your brain is, admittedly, still a little sleep-addled thanks to being suddenly awoken by the racoons banging around in the garbage cans. You'd run out to deal with them before they could wake up your poor overworked husband too.

"No. Them." That tiny finger points to the carrot-nosed friends decorating your yard. Yours looks pretty plain ("traditional", you called it), with its branch arms and a partially chewed nose. Your child's contribution is more of a lump than anything, but it's a darn good-looking snow lump in your personal opinion. Kaku had made a snow giraffe. You're still convinced he built it around a wood frame or something, because how else could it remain so structurally sound?

Your sluggish mind limps back to a few hours prior and the book you'd all laughed over. "Oh honey, snowmen don't actually move around at night. That was just a story."

Lips purse and brows furrow. "But other things in stories are true. Like the zoo animals. And pigeons trying to eat hot dogs. And Grover!"

That...is a fair point. You'd just gone to the zoo a few weeks ago, and Hattori does frequently steal food from Jabra and Paulie, hot dogs included. And you aren't ready to explain that Sesame Street wasn't real either.

The door inside your child's room opens, and there's Kaku. Seems he woke up after all, and is already pulling a sweater on. "Honey, some things in books are real, and other are make-believe. But I know how we can check! Our snowmen might not be moving since we're awake...but everyone else on the block should be asleep. So how about we take a stroll around the neighborhood to see if any of them are up and about?"

Your child cheers, practically jumping into Daddy's arms to be bundled up in winter wear and then ride upon his shoulders. You mouth a silent "thank you" to your genius husband, and hope it won't take too long to convince your kid that the snowmen aren't going anywhere so everyone can get back to sleep. You shoot a glare at the bushes, mentally willing the racoons to stay out of trash and trouble in your absence, before you run inside to trade your slippers for some actual boots.

It's a clear night, and the moon casts a soft blue glow across the neighborhood. The light catches the snow and everything sparkles the way not even movies can replicate. Your boots crunch at the fresh layer of white on the sidewalks, and the cool night air gives you an excuse to hold Kaku's hand and huddle close to him, as your kid sits on his shoulders and peers across the blankets of white for any trace of cavorting snowmen.

Kaku reminds your child to be "quiet as a churchmouse" atop his shoulders, which only results in questions about what a churchmouse actually is and how it differs from a regular mouse. You gently rib Kaku for his old-timey turns of phrase as you interlock elbows and amend that "really, long as you're quieter than the racoons, I think we'll be okay. Last thing we want is any of our neighbors chasing us away with a broom." You'd fear running into Lucci at 2 AM with any sort of cleaning implements. Or that Mihawk guy, who you're pretty sure could fight off an army with his snow shovel alone.

Speaking of Mihawk, he's practically built cathedrals with his snow sculptures, carefully carved monuments that scream less "Christmas" and more "Catholic for the aesthetics" and "I incorporated my Halloween decorations instead of putting them away". This effect is only emphasized by the cutesy snow-ghosts interspersed across his yard, and one single snow lump wielding three cardboard tubes like swords. Your child giggles at the imaginative house, then suppresses a squeal at the house next door, full of lights and animatronics that only local inventor Franky could pull off. Past that is a yard full of snow deer surrounding a tree somehow still covered in pink flowers despite the season, an army of snowmen with a sign that reads "standing army of the brave Captain Usopp!", and a collection of giant snow ducks, among many other displays.

You stand there on the icy street for a long moment, taking in the sights as new snowfall slowly drifts down like stars forsaking the sky to rest upon your hair. Your child giggles as a particularly large flake lands on Kaku's nose and says, "Daddy, you've got a nose like a snowman!"

"Suppose I do! Sure hope no reindeer mistakes it for a carrot. Speaking of which..." He gestures to all the snowy beings across the neighborhood. "They don't seem to be moving much at all, are they?"

"...No," your kiddo admits, "but I wanna' watch a little longer."

"Okay. But not too long. Don't want you catching cold and becoming a popsicle!"

Lights twinkle green and red, blue and yellow. An animatronic Santa Claus waves at an otherwise unmoving world. Your child's eyes slowly flutter as excitement gives way to sleep. In the distance, the silence is briefly disturbed by rattling trashcans. The racoons are at it again. You internally sigh, but even the racoons can enjoy this wintry wonderland a moment more.

There are so many things you want to say. That you wish you could do this more often, though perhaps not at two A.M. That you're so happy to have a night home with your family, where you or Kaku haven't been dragged off to work. That's it's cheesy but something about the scene before you touches your heart in a way that reminds you of what you always truly cherished about holidays like these. But you don't want to break the silence of this wintry night.

You squeeze Kaku's hand, hoping that it can convey all the words in your head and love in your heart. He looks at you, smiling back with flushed cheeks from the cold, blinking holiday lights sparkling in his eyes, and the head of one sleepy child resting atop his. He's the picture of perfection as he squeezes your hand back, warm against the cold night air.

"Happy holidays, love."

"You help make them happy, Kaku."

#one piece kaku #kaku #kaku x reader #kid fic #winter prompts

[elius-learns-to-write]

hi! omg i luv ur blog 💘 can i request/suggest (kinda angsty but then fluffy) where r has trouble sleeping and a lot of nightmares/anxiety & mother!nat is there to comfort her? 🥺 like the whole team is super understanding and comforting but especially nat (bc we love mom nat around here!) anyways thanks so much ily bestie!

Hey Bestie! thank you so much for being patient and for supporting my blog! I know this has been in my inbox for so long but still! here it is. Sending my love to you <3 i have just realised that there is not a lot of comfort in here oops.

warning: this does include details of death and blood so keep that in mind if you read this <3

It’s Okay

You had always gotten nervous in public spaces 

Or at night when you couldn’t sleep

Or when you didn’t know all of the details of a plan 

Or when it was 3am and you were too scared to sleep

The point is you always seemed to have 100 thoughts plaguing your mind 

“Y/n sweetie I’m gonna need you to concentrate on my voice okay?” Wanda's voice waded through the watery noise in your head. You knew she was right and that logically there was no reason to be so upset, but you just couldn’t help it. It had all started after the group had decided to not tell you about the meal they had planned at this fancy restaurant that Tony wanted to try and of course this had sent you into a spiral and you were now very very aware of every possible outcome. “Come on kid, you’re alright, breathe slowly” Tony tried, or was it Steve maybe it was Bruce. When you got like this, voices sounded the same and nothing felt real. You couldn’t breathe and that was your main worry.

The team had gotten used to it and always reassured you that it was okay 

They didn’t mind and would always be there

And no matter how much you appreciated all of the support there was 1 person the team always knew to call

Natasha

Crash, thud, bang. The noise coming from outside the room had woken you from the sleep you had allowed your brain to indulge in for once. Whenever you did this though your mind would be over run with the horrors of life and death. 

Peeling the covers off of you, you slowly crept from out of the bed. Where was the rest of the team? Had they woken up? You hadn’t heard anyone else get up but in your hazy state of mind shrugged it off as them just being deep sleepers. Something you would later regret telling yourself. 

As your hand pulled the handle of your room down to open it you heard another noise. Laughter? Hesitating you looked around in the hope of finding a clock but as your eyes frantically moved in an effort of finding one the floor seemed to start to sway beneath your feet. Soon the darkness engulfed you.

For the second time that night your body jolted forward and you gasped for air, the dryness of your mouth hitting you like a punch to the gut. When was the last time you had a drink? Where did the laughter go? Why had you passed out? So many questions and yet it felt like you were trapped in an endless game of hide and go run with a twist, you didn’t know who you were running from and how much time you had before they found you. 

Before you could even begin to think logically again the loud twang of metal hitting the ground sounded from down the hall. Slowly stepping outside the room you had woken up in which you had realised wasn’t your own, you guessed you had been in Steve’s bedroom which was odd given that he wasn’t in there. Maybe he was out helping Bucky with his nightmares? 

Bare feet slapping against the cold marble floor of the tower you tried to navigate your way through the dark to wherever the team had gone. The sounds of machines whirring stopped you, the lights must be getting turned on. Sure enough, bright white light blinded you, spreading through the faster Pietro could run. Blinking away the pain and blind spots from your eyes you were met with big red letters painted on the floor.

 ‘The crowds will come and flood your world, yet you will remain empty and incomplete’ the red bleeding off into a winding path that would probably lead to whoever had wormed their way here. Even with this in mind the words seemed to swim through your mind; you had always felt empty even when your life was full but you never told anyone but Natasha and she would never tell anyone your secrets she had promised. She wasn’t like that. Repeating that phrase like a prayer that would save you, you followed the red wet paint. 

Red can signify many things: energy, passion, lust and the one you should have paid more attention to. Danger. 

Instead of being faced with some psycho who broke in all you were greeted with was the horrifying image of your family dead on the floor. Blood trickled out of anything it could noses, ears, mouths. Eyes open with a stare of pure terror. A scream tore its way though your throat. The familiar metallic substance flooding your senses. 

Knees crashing to the ground as you sobbed and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. Because when you have nothing, when all you have is gone, what can you do but cry yourself a river and let your soul float away on the memories of simpler times? 

You knew your knees would bruise from the mpact but you didn’t care. You didn’t deserve to go through this painlessly after what they had gone through in their last moments. 

A creak made itself heard above the sound of your cries, head slowly lifting to see what it was, damaging your throat further when you saw the lifeless bodies of the avengers sitting up and staring back at you. Salty tears streaming even quicker as you tried to scramble away. Slipping on nothing. Suddenly the lights shut off again. You didn’t move. You didn’t scream. You didn’t even breathe. 

“Wake up y/n”. What?

It had been Nat that woke you up from the nightmare

Even though the whole team had been aware of what was happening all they could do was watch in horror as your body writhed in fear

After making your way to Nat’s room where you knew you would spend the night

Unable to brave it alone

You finally found it in yourself to talk

“You were all dead” you croaked from the cocoon of blankets the redhead had wrapped you in. sitting down next to you and wrapping her arms around your body, you found yourself desperate for the comfort of her hugs. “We don’t have to talk about it right now, just know that I will never ever abandon you. How could I leave my little sunflower to fend for themselves? You give me a reason to be better and I will never leave you. Nor will anyone on this team for that matter” she spoke softly, as if cooing a terrified animal out of their hiding spot. You had and always will have a family as long as you have Natasha. She would make sure of it. And soon you drifted off into a peaceful slumber to the sound of her sweet hums. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray, you’ll never know dear, how much I love you. So please don’t take my sunshine away”.

#The Avengers #AVENGERS ANGST #avengers imagine #avengers fluff #avengers x gender neutral reader #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x teen!reader #avengers x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha imagine #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x you #wanda maximoff #wanda x teen!reader

[reidingmelodies]

Dinos and Tigers and Donuts, Oh My!

Summary: Spencer wanted one thing this year: for your kids to plan his perfect Father’s Day Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Includes: dad!Spencer, heavy mentions of Father’s Day, mentions and consumption of food Category: Fluff Word Count: 2.6k A/N: This isn’t my favorite, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for awhile all the same! Happy Sunday ♥️

 When Spencer was called away on cases your house seemed to lose a bit of its charm.  Mornings felt more tiring than ever before, the afternoon slumps dragged on for what seemed like years, and dinners, even with babbling five and seven-year-olds at your side, were a little too quiet.

This time around though, things were different.  You woke up to your five-year-old daughter sitting by your feet, her mind preoccupied by one of the search and find books Spencer had bought her the week prior.

The space next to you was empty, a piece of paper lying where your husband previously was, and you knew exactly what it was going to say before you even picked it up.

Good morning, love,

I got called on a case this morning, but it’s local and the team thinks we can wrap it up by tonight.  The kids both ate breakfast- and PSA that they were a little too excited I was going to be gone for the day.  I don’t know what they’re planning, but good luck.  I love you, and I’ll see you soon.

-Spencer

Unlike Spencer, you knew exactly what the kids were excited for, and it had everything to do with Father’s Day being tomorrow- you just hoped he would be home in time to celebrate like he predicted.

You folded the letter and placed it in your nightstand along with the others you’ve found gracing his pillow in years past when your bedroom door opened just the slightest amount.

In walked your seven-year-old son, comically exaggerating his tip toe motions as he stage whispered to his sister.  

“Is Mommy still sleeping?” He shifted his gaze in your direction, all effort to keep quiet out the window when he saw your eyes meet his.

“Mom! Guess what?” you opened your mouth to respond, but your daughter beat you to the punch.

“Daddy left for a work trip this morning!  So, we can make our plan today while he isn’t here!”

There was no denying that your kids loved their daddy, that was for sure.

“That’s so great!” you matched their enthusiasm with ease, getting ready for the day while they kept brainstorming in the background.  

Just last week, you had asked Spencer what he wanted to do for Father’s Day over dinner, and the children were as attentive as ever, eyes wide and lips pursed as they waited to hear the plans for the big day.

But, to their amusement, Spencer’s only plan was that they plan the entire day.  His reasoning was that they were the reason he was a dad so they should be the ones to decide what to do, but really you knew the truth was that he overheard their whispers about having the perfect plan for his day.

A plan you were finally going to be let in on, so it seemed.

The three of you made your way down to the kitchen where you settled down with your breakfast, eyebrows raised in enjoyment at your children.  They were sat across from you with a stash of markers and fresh index cards, and they had a few stacks of previously filled out index cards resting along the center of the table.

Ah- so that’s where they’re going with this.

It had become a bit of a family tradition to have a family scavenger hunt whenever you had a full weekend together.  You and Spencer were all too familiar with the concept of cherishing the time you have with your loved ones, and there were many a weekend where Spencer was called away, or you were busy with a million other plans ranging from extended family gatherings to birthday parties or weddings.

It was all the more reason to make the moments where it was just the four of you count even more- and thus, family scavenger hunts were born.

When they were toddlers, the scavenger hunts centered around finding certain shapes or colors, be it in the house or at the park.  Once every item was checked off you would have a family outing of their choice: the go to choice used to be another trip to the park (the one with the ‘fancier’ slides this time), but with the upgrade to slightly harder scavenger hunts centered on science and math they’ve upped their prize to ice cream.

What could you say? They were Spencer’s kids through and through.

“Wow!” you exclaimed, relishing in the beaming smiles on their faces, “do you guys want to make a scavenger hunt for daddy?”

Two enthusiastic faces nodded eagerly in your direction as your son grabbed one of the red markers.

“Yes! And we can have dino pancakes in the morning and get donuts after our scavenger hunt at the zoo- all of daddy’s favorite things!”

Dino pancakes were a Sunday morning staple in your home- you would use a cookie cutter to cut out a dinosaur shaped pancake, and the kids would eat those while you and Spencer would eat the ones with the dinosaur outline in them (and a few regular ones for good measure).  But donuts instead of ice cream?  That was new.

“That’s a great idea, I’m so proud of you guys for working together to plan this,” you praised, “but why donuts?”

Your daughter peered up from the index card she was drawing flowers on to answer your question, “because they’re daddy’s favorite and it’s daddy’s day!”

“And for our scavenger hunt we want all the animals to spell out ‘best dad ever’,” your son tacked on at the end, already beginning the task of writing numbers and circling them on the front of the card.

That was another newfound tradition for your family.  Now that the kids were learning to read, the two of you would try to have the first letter of each answer spell out a certain word or phrase.  Sometimes, it would be something like ‘I love you’ or ‘hello’, other times it would be the name of a special someone that would be joining you for ice cream afterwards (so far ‘Aunt Penny’ and ‘Uncle D’ were their favorite ones to come across).

You grinned once more, moving to grab your laptop and pulling the Smithsonian’s National Zoo site up to look at their list of animals.

“Alright, my loves- let’s do this”.

***

Three hours, eleven index cards, one snack break, and two very patient children later, your scavenger hunt was finished, index cards clipped and ready to go for the following morning.

Each index card had blank slots, the number of which corresponded to the name of the animal, on the front of the card with three fun facts written on the back.  In retrospect, Spencer wouldn’t even need the slots (or more than one fun fact, to be fair), but you knew he’d make a show of trying to think of each and every animal tomorrow afternoon.

Yet another reason you loved him.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur, all of your energy going into spending time with your kids. But once they went to bed, that energy was refocused into prepping for tomorrow to take your mind off the fact that it was nearing 10 PM and your husband wasn’t there.

You couldn’t bear to think of your kids disappointment if he didn’t make it home that night.

Outfits out and pancakes ready to be made, you made your way to the couch when the clock struck 11:30 PM, ready to settle in for a movie while you awaited his return but there was no need- as you walked into the room your husband made his way through the front door.  He looked as exhausted as ever, but the glimmer in his eyes proclaimed what you knew to be true.

He was happy to be home.

***

7 AM the next morning found you face to face with two wide eyed children gently shaking you awake, joy radiating from them as they saw that their father was fast asleep next to you.

With much persuasion in the form of puppy dog eyes, you made your way out of bed and into the kitchen to start the first task of the day: dino pancakes.  

Your little helpers set the table and brought Spencer’s gifts from the coat closet and into the dining room in the meantime, and as you placed the last pancake on a plate two arms wrapped around you and pulled you back tightly.

“Good morning, darling,” his raspy morning voice brought a soft smile to your face, and you leaned your head back to kiss his lips in greeting.

“Happy Father’s Day, Spence,” you laid another kiss against his lips, pulling back as the patter of little feet made their way into the kitchen.

“Daddy!  Happy Father’s Day!”

“Daddy!  Come see your gifts and eat pancakes!”

Two little voices fought for the spotlight, and Spencer kneeled to the ground to wrap the both of them in a hug.  You laughed at the scene, watching as they squeezed him just as hard before grabbing onto his arm and leading him to the dining room table.

“C’mon, Dad,” your son pulled his chair out and pushed his gifts closer to his seat, “let’s eat and open gifts!”

“Gifts?  You guys know I don’t want anything,” his brows furrowed as he looked at you, but you shrugged your eyes and took a bite of your pancakes in response.

“You always say that,” you rightly claimed, “and we always buy you gifts anyway- it’s practically tradition”.

You had a point, there.

Breakfast passed by in a blur of conversation, dad jokes, and present unwrapping.  And just like that, Spencer was the owner of new books to pass his time on the jet, a 5k puzzle you were sure he’d solve in an hour flat, and a homemade Father’s Day shirt with your children’s handprints decorating a globe, the words ’Best Dad in the WORLD!!!’ gracing the blank space.

His eyes sparkled when he saw the shirt, and you swore you’ve never been happier to call that man your husband and the father of your children.

Granted, that thought passed your mind no less than fifteen times a day, but still.

Within the hour, the four of you were out the door and on the way to the zoo, Spencer’s Father’s Day shirt proudly on display.

You drove with a grin, the radio turned off in favor of listening to your children explain today’s scavenger hunt to Spencer.  They were practically giving a word for word verbatim of what the two of you usually told them pre-scavenger hunt, all the more proof that your kids were sponges.

An equally exciting yet terrifying thought.

You were at the zoo within half an hour, your hand intertwined with your son’s while your daughter latched onto her father, everyone eager to start the scavenger hunt.

“Alright, guys,” Spencer began, “what’s our first clue?”

“Mommy can read it!” your daughter piped up and you nodded, grabbing the small pile from her hands before reading the first card of the day.

“Okay, so!  This animal has six letters in its name, and your three fun facts are: whiskers help this animal detect objects around them which helps them navigate the dark, they’re the largest rodents in North America, and when they’re in danger they slap their tail on the surface of the water” you finished your explanation and watched as Spencer’s eyes lit up in recognition, but just as you predicted he dragged the process out instead of guessing right away.

“Hm, it sounds like we should go to the rodent exhibit first!” He proclaimed, and your kids nodded, walking in a row like little ducklings to the exhibit.

The four of you took your time looking at each of the animals, until you came face to face with the animal in question.  “Aha! I think the animal we’re looking for is a beaver,” his answer was met with cheers from both of your children, and you wrote the answer in the blank slots before continuing with the hunt.

At the end of the hour you added an electric eel, sloth bear, tiger, dama gazelle, alpaca, and degu to the list.  Eight animals down, four to go.

Which was fantastic, considering that your kids were starting to get antsy for donuts.

“Okay, guys!  Are we ready for our next animal?” You were walking hand in hand with Spencer, your kids skipping directly in front of you and eagerly shouting in affirmation at your question.

The four of you stepped to the side, and you grabbed hold of the fourth to last index card before reciting the hints.

“Alright so!  This animal is two words, seven letters in the first word and seven in the second.  They have whiskers that look like mustaches, they’re native to the southwest Amazon Basin, and they have claws on each of their toes but the big one”.

“Hmm.. I don’t know guys, what do you think?” Spencer turned to your children, smiling wide when your son giggled in response.

“We can’t tell you, Dad! It’s a secret”.

Spencer laughed, sighing in defeat as your daughter gestured for him to come closer.  He did as asked, leaning down until she able to reach his ear, “I think we should go to the monkey exhibit!”

Her not so quiet whisper brought a smile to both yours and Spencer’s faces, and a grimace to your son’s but to the monkeys you went, where you came face to face with an Emperor Tamarin.

From there you crossed a Von der Decken’s Hornbill and an Eld’s Deer off your list until you had one animal left.

“Alright, my love- last one! This animal is two words, three letters in the first one and five in the second.  They mainly eat bamboo, their fur acts like a camouflage when they climb in trees, and they live in temperate forests in the Himalayas,” you finished your spiel with a quick eyebrow raise towards your children, both of which were not so discreetly pointing at the red panda exhibit just a few feet away.

“Is it a red panda?” Spencer asked, giving both your kids high fives when they jumped up and down in excitement.

“Yay Daddy, you got it! And guess what all of the first letters spell? Best dad ever!” your daughter jumped into his arms and Spencer chuckled, spinning her around and laying a gentle kiss on her head.

“Is that so?” he asked, “you three are too nice to me”.

Truthfully, you didn’t think it was possible to be too nice to Spencer.

“How about our last surprise for Daddy now, my loves?” your question was met with enthusiasm from your little family, and you were back in your car and on your way to Spencer’s favorite bakery in ten minutes flat.

As you pulled up to the bakery, two eager children and one extremely happy father made plans as to what donuts they were going to eat.

It was decided that Spencer would get a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles, your son would get a glazed donut, and your daughter would get jelly.

And you? You had every intention to get your favorite too, but above all you were just happy that another amazing Father’s Day was in the books for Spencer.

The seventh of many.

***

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#queued #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #mgg x reader #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #ash writes

[hansoulo]

whisper scarcely breathing

part four of “Pillar of Salt”

Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)

Warnings: NC-17, NSFW, explicit language, mentions of canon-typical violence, fluff, hurt/comfort but without the hurt, bathing and/or being bathed, choking, female-receiving oral, loss of virginity, unprotected M/F intercourse

Word Count: 6.1k

Image Credit: (x) by @/365filmsbyauroranocte, not meant to be a representation of the reader

A/N: this one is for the boys with the boomin’ system 😩💦

༓ series masterlist ༓

The datapad that you’d left in the garden was thrust back into your possession one morning by the hurried hands of a maid. Truthfully, you had forgotten all about it. The mind, when faced with matters as pressing as the press of a mouth, tends to forget about inconsequential objects.

You’d never met the girl standing in front of you before, and she avoided your eyes while passing over the small screen. She seemed eager to be rid of it. You couldn’t say you blamed her. “‘S yours, miss. The bounty hunter said you’d lost it.”

Did he, now?

“Thank you,” you replied sincerely, careful not to let the datapad drop to the floor as you tucked it back into the deep brocade of your gown pockets. You didn’t have the wherewithal at first to ask her when he’d found it or found the time to return it. But you also didn’t have the common sense to keep your mouth shut. “Could I ask when he gave it to you?”

The servant ducked her head. “This morning, your Highness. I- I was in the loading bay when they left, think he was tryin’ to get a hold of you but didn’t have the time, told me- told me to keep quiet ‘bout it.” A bob of her throat signalled a nervous swallow. “Princess.”

Poor girl, you thought to yourself absentmindedly. Boba probably scared her half out of her wits.

“Really, I can’t thank you enough.” You touched a soft hand to the servant’s shoulder in an misguided attempt to soothe. She returned the action with a nervous smile, eyes still downcast and trying not to shy away.

You never realized how afraid they all were. Of you.

The realization made your tongue tangle in your throat, tripping over some lie about a fever and champagne-induced amnesia as explanation for your exchanges with a man so ill-acquainted.

Hopefully, the maid didn’t make a habit of gossip.

Hopefully, you stopped making a habit of Boba Fett.

⫸———————————————— ⫷

A chaincode, a datapad tracking number, and the rest of your life flashed in backlit neon. You silently cursed yourself for not putting an opening passcode on anything, including the datapad that you now held with slightly tremoring hands.

In your defense, it’s not like it held anything of interest. Mostly just holonovels and some pictures of things you found intriguing enough to want to paint or draw.

But now there was a thing of veritable interest stuffed into a new folder titled “Your Highness” and glowing in galactic basic.

BF-18378-3263827

You stared at the numbers until they morphed into a strong, stern-featured face, muddy in your imagination against the ink night invading your bedroom. Boba left his tracking number there for you. If you wanted to, you could use them to message him or comm him or leave a holoprojection message. Whenever you wanted. Right now, even.

When did he even find your datapad? Why he found it (and why he returned it with the aforementioned numerical contraband) was probably a more apt question.

There was quite a lot to think about. Best to take stock of the present moment, lest you lose your head and go completely mad. As if you hadn’t already.

The facts repeated themselves in a half-conscious mantra, screen slipping out of your hands and onto the pillow beside your head. Facts. Facts were good. What were the facts, again?

Boba Fett was arguably the most dangerous bounty hunter in the galaxy.

Boba Fett was not much of a talker.

Boba Fett was a piss-poor dancer.

And Boba Fett was an unfairly good kisser.

The beginning three points held little negative sway, with the first adding much more appeal than it should, the second a welcome relief, and the third being… sort of endearing.

It was on the last point that your mind lingered the longest.

You didn’t even realize you’d copied numbers into the screen’s communications system until its microphone crackled to life.

One breath, two breaths, stuck in your sleep-thick throat. No words from either side yet. Did you get the tracking code wrong? Maybe. Maybe.

Maybe you were dreaming already, imagining the wind outside to be the quiet, husky inhale that sounded from the other end of the receiver.

“Not falling asleep are we, princess?”

Your eyes shot open. “No. No, I’m…” the words croaked themselves out as you fought down a yawn, “I’m awake.” His low chuckle. “I called you didn’t I?”

“That you did,” Boba assented. Quiet amusement colored his accent. “And you called because…”

“I wanted to,” you said simply, without room for teasing. You were too sleepy to be ashamed of admitting you sought out his company, as foolish as doing so was. No use in hiding what both parties knew to be true.

He let out a noise of soft approval and it rumbled a pleasant sunburst between your ears. “You seem to want a lot of things, don’t you?”

Makes me want… want…

Want what, Princess?

Want you.

You can have me.

The memory snaked a fever flush down your neck, over the still-tender skin and lightly mottled marks. Boba was remembering it just as well as you were. You knew he was.

It gave you a rush, a weird sort of power trip. Because as stupid as you felt doing this, wanting this, he wanted it too. Enough to let your hands thread through his hair and around his arms, then to the scar above his left brow and across his mouth. Enough to let you do it again at the risk of being caught. Enough to leave you his tracking number, like you were two teenagers trading love letters and not legal adults with judgement better enough to do otherwise.

You stayed on the comm for two hours, and only went to sleep because Boba threatened to cut your link off if you didn’t.

⫸———————————————— ⫷

It had been almost five standard months since the first time you’d spoken. Typed words continued to be exchanged under your covers, day after day, night after night. Sometimes you’d fall asleep talking, peppering him with questions about his ship and his job until your throat ached with the effort of keeping yourself awake. Sometimes you did more than talk.

He never fell asleep. Never seemed to sleep, period.

What a strange man. Strange, dangerous, interesting man.

You often missed each other by a hair’s breadth. Courtly flurry and galactic bounty hunting didn’t make much space for private conversation. Boba was still taciturn. You were still naive.

And yet…

You liked him. He listened when you talked about botany and painting, neither of which you imagined interested him. He was arrogant and cocky and insufferable sometimes, but he listened. He told you about his job and regaled your sheltered curiosity with lurid, gory details. He told you about his father.

And one day he somehow, miraculously, had a set of Nabooan watercolors left for you in the garden.

Biting down a juvenile grin with every new message, you watched the quiet ping! of the datapad.

hi

Hello

are you busy?

In a way

how so

Had a brush with Hutt’s rancor

poor thing

Don’t get soft on me now

wasn’t talking about you

Very funny

I’m very, very sorry

Should be. The bastard nearly tore up my flight suit

… show me?

⫸———————————————— ⫷

BF-18378-3263827 HAS ATTACHED 3 FILES

⫸———————————————— ⫷

HOLOCALL DURATION: 02:45:35 HOURS

SAVE CALL RECORDING? PRESS YES/NO TO CONFIRM

Your damp hands tremored.

YES

⫸———————————————— ⫷

Six months, four days, and 20 hours. That’s how long it took for you to see Boba Fett again.

You’d started to think the entire ordeal was a mirage, an illusionary experience your brain conjured up for you as a one-time brush with what your life could have been. Who it could’ve been with.

But you did see him again. Foolhardy, reckless, and unplanned.

You didn’t listen to his explanation about having to leave in the morning, taking some third-rate bounty as an excuse to come back to Quas Killam for the first time in what seemed like ages—practically eons since his mouth had last been at your neck. He appeared on your bedroom balcony near midnight like an apparition, mounted by a still-burning jetpack that shut off with an arc of smoke.

You’d been sleeping, albeit fitfully, and woke the minute his knuckles rapped against the glass. You didn’t remember ever telling him where your bedchambers were, but given… everything… you couldn’t say you were surprised he knew. When he crouched down to shed the helmet, it made a soft thump on the plush carpet.

And then you kissed. And kissed. And kissed.

Boba’s fingertips dragged fire across your prickled skin with every pass. Whose breathing was whose didn’t matter. It was hard, heaving, and shared. Eyes closed, lips raw, every part of you dizzy. Dizzy.

The sneeze that left you was loud enough to knock his forehead against yours. Hard.

Feet stumbling until your legs hit the bedspread, you let your weakened knees carry you down into a sitting position atop the covers and tried to catch your breath. Boba only chuckled, seemingly unperturbed by the mild injury.

Of course your body had picked today to come down with a cold. And of course you’d forgotten to tell him.

In your defense (you seemed to do a lot of self-defending these days) you didn’t know Boba would be coming tonight. When you asked him a week ago—the last time you’d spoken—he’d said “soon.” Whatever “soon” meant, you hadn’t anticipated it being now. Your rumpled nightgown and deteriorating personal hygiene was evidence enough of that.

The day had passed in fitful naps, with you waving away all attempts at help until the servants who usually tittered about decided to give you a wide berth until tomorrow. They’d left the door locked and your curtains drawn, thank the gods.

“A hello would’ve been nice,” you mumbled. The lingering taste of him in your mouth mixed with the bitter medicine that you’d forced down a few hours ago.

Boba didn’t answer at first, only stalking forward with his silhouette glowing in light of the full moon. You brought your knees up to your chest to make room for him to stand in front of you. Every movement was bathed in slowness, in the reverence of caution and night-time silence.

His gloved hand brushed against your chin and tilted it upwards, thumb rubbing a small circle into your jawbone as he moved your face in one large grip. Left, inspecting a swollen mouth and puffy eyes, then right. Up to see the column of your exposed neck. Down to meet his bare, dark face.

He kissed you again, more gentle this time. “Hello.”

A soft whimper left your throat.

Oh, you hated it. Hated the way you sounded when he touched you, small and pathetic. Needy.

The balustrade doors were still open, and this fact was made known by a particularly biting gust of silver wind.

“You’re cold,” the man standing close to you noted with a deep downquirk of his mouth. Boba never had to conceal anything; his helmet did that for him. But when it was off, every thought flickered past his face in evening technicolor.

Your hands paused in their run up your arms to hold petulantly at your elbows, covered only by the thin fabric of your shift. Goosebumps rose against your neck with a new breeze and you fought down the urge to shiver.  “M’not.”

“And stubborn.”

You glared at him, but it held no real venom.

“I appreciate the concern,” you sniffled again and your body trembled slightly. “But I’m the picture of health. I really have never been—” here you sneezed rather violently, crumbling any remaining sense of composure and making the final words thick with congestion, “—any better.” Boba hooked two strong arms underneath your knees and around your shoulders. “Wh- what are you doing?”

“C’mon,” Boba grunted and lifted you to his chest in one swift, easy motion. “Up.”

“I’m already up,” you grumbled, a headache you’d thought was all but gone now throbbing from the quick movement. Armor pressed to your cheek and you let yourself go pliant, curling up into Boba’s broad chest. He smelled nice. Like the outdoors. The real outdoors—not manufactured gardens or stone courtyards. No, dangerous things. Like deserts and leather and guns.

You queried him as he walked in long strides across the room. “Where are you taking me? Should have you—” another sneeze burned your airways, “—have you arrested for treason. A high crime or misdemeanor of some sort, kidnapping royalty...”

He only scoffed, shifting your slack body into his one-armed grip when he arrived at the entrance of your adjunct refresher. The door opened with a soft click. “You talk too much.”

Your head rolled back to face him, pressed so close already that the attempt made you cross-eyed. “And you,” a polished finger jabbed lightly at his chest plate, “are up to no good.”

You were only joking, but Boba didn’t deny it.

Green was your favorite color, even before you met him. It was the color of gardens. Of mint leaves. Of insects and jewels. Of him.

Gods, he was beautiful. Did he know that? Would he ever believe you if you told him? He was achingly, painfully, humanly beautiful. It hurt like needles.

The man set you down to your immediate protests. Funny how quick you seemed to change your mind. “Don’t whine,” he chided when you did just that, pushing you forward by the small of your back.

You walked into the refresher confused, that same confusion compounding when Boba strode over to the marble bathtub in room’s center with a surety that belayed the fact he’d never once stepped foot inside here. Were all bounty hunters this self-assured? Or was he just so full of bathroom bravado that your sprawling floor-plan didn’t faze him?

Whatever the case was, said bounty hunter was now crouched down on the tile floor and twisting the tub faucets until they sprayed out a gush of hot water, quickly filling the room with heady steam.

 “Hot water helps.” A still-gloved hand dipped an inch into the filling tub and deemed it acceptable. “The steam’ll clear up those sneezes of yours. And the headache.”

“How did you know I-” your mouth opened and closed before you realized you didn’t do a great job of hiding your symptoms. Maker knows you looked a sight, all mussed and tired and sticky with cold sweat. He should make a run for it now, you half-joked to yourself. He’s only ever seen me stuffed into a corset and done up half to death.

He got up with a grunt and turned back towards you. Beskar and durasteel and tactical fabric suddenly made you feel, for the first time in your life, underdressed. “‘S not hard to tell, princess.”

“Oh,” was your only response as you pushed off the sink counter, fisting the fabric of your nightgown in an unconscious display of hesitancy.

Boba’s heavy boots made for the door.

It was probably just to leave you some semblance of privacy, but you panicked, not wanting to be left alone now that he was finally here. “Wait!” you burst out, reaching a palm onto his shoulder before he could exit. “Wait. Can— can you stay?” Of course he won’t stay, you dolt. He probably came to sleep with you, not babysit you. “Please?”

Both of his hands curled into themselves when he turned back to you, their leather squeaking in the tight flex. Then, they released limp by his sides. Each word was carefully measured, slow-simmering like a pot about to boil over. Like a trigger finger twitchy on a blaster. “If you want me to.”

You answered with a bobbing nod and a swallow. “I do.”

⫸————————————————⫷

Boba Fett had long since forgotten he was a man. Instead, he was armor. He was a code, a set of  strict (albeit grey) morals, the steadfast honor he’d been imbibed with from the years with his father and then the years of tearing emptiness after.

Bounty hunters had no time for attachments. They couldn’t afford to humor every batting eyelash with more than a self-serving flirtation, and he’d had his fill of those already. He’d overflowed his cup ten times over with shallow pleasantries and quick release.

But those days were long-gone. Had been for years now. Now he was practically puritanical.

Had been, anyway.

He didn’t like thinking of himself as impulsive, wanting to leave the trait behind in his younger years but not being old enough to shake it off completely. But he wasn’t impulsive anymore. He wasn’t.

You were going to destroy him.

Low-ranking royalty on some Imperial-occupied factory planet; sheltered and pretty. You had the brightest eyes he had ever seen and a temperament that took no prisoners, and you were going to destroy him.

Boba thought you’d make him leave, but you didn’t. You wanted him to stay and told him so.

So he stayed. His armor was peeled off in your presence for the first time— carefully placed on a chair in your bedroom—and he walked back into the refresher to see you untying your flimsy nightdress like it’d done you a personal wrong.

When it dropped beside your feet, it took every ounce of self-control Boba possessed to stop himself from eating you whole.

He heard you kick it to the floor (his eyes had since been very determinedly fixed on a fascinating piece of groutwork near his left foot) before you stepped into the bath, sighing in a way that made breathing a work harder than it should’ve been.

His looking away wasn’t a request on your part, you didn’t seem to mind either way, but he didn’t trust himself to do otherwise. Not until the sounds of splashing had subsided somewhat, signalling your stilled motion. “Boba?”

Now there was permission to walk. Look down. Right foot, left foot. Right foot, left foot. Right foot, the clawfoot of the bathtub. He had reached his destination.

A wet hand tugged at his belt loops and he finally allowed himself to look, meeting the sight of you sitting bare in the clear-blue water with legs pulled up to your chest. The arm not touching him was roped around your calves. Your chin rested on the wide, curved lip of the tub.  

If Boba had any self-respect, it had been snuffed out the first moment you opened your mouth, six months ago in that cavernous palace hallway with your failed attempt at bravado. It was haughty, short-lived, and adorable.

Maker, you were beautiful. Did you know that? Would you ever believe him if you told you? You were blindingly, effervescently, humanly beautiful. It hurt like needles.

The position of your chin forced your lips into a slight pout. As if you needed another weapon in your arsenal of ways to make him question his judgement. “Could you bring me the tray on the counter?”

Of course he could. He could bring you anything you liked. He would bring you a rancor, a dozen rancors, a fucking sarlaac if it meant you would smile all soft-like the way you just did when he answered yes.

Boba Fett, mercenary feared farther than he would ever live to travel and hunter too expensive for the Imperial payroll, was now a bath attendant. It was torturous in its sensual irony.

The tray was brought over in short order, cluttered with tiny vials of Maker-knows-what and bars of who-knows-how. Individually they probably all smelled nice, but crowded together the heavy scents only made his head spin. He set the tray down on the floor with a rattle and held up each mystery soap for your inspection. No. No. No. No, not that one. Gods, you were picky. No. No. Yes, please.

You were Miss Manners tonight apparently.

“It’s floating archidia,” you told him, mind running through an endless backlog of plant indexes as he handed over the soap. You sounded clearer now, less congested and more alert. Needed to drink water, though. “The flower that this is made with, I mean. Native to the planet Nubia, rumored to have euphoric properties.” You snorted and ran a thumbnail along the bar’s waxy edge, bringing up a curled pink piece. “Whatever that means.”

“Do you think it does?”

“Have euphoric properties?” you hummed, considering it for a moment. “Maybe. But maybe it’s just wishful thinking.”

“Wishful thinking,” Boba parroted.

The meaning of words can change when they’re repeated. Neither of your minds were on flowers.

His jaw tensed when you reached your other hand to his forearm, baring the rest of your body to the dim orange of the refresher lights’ night settings. The water rippled, warm now instead of steaming, and your fingers curled around the scarred skin of his wrist. “Take off the gloves,” you echoed, your voice suddenly desperate and distant as you traced over pale leather seams. “Please.”

He had refused the first time simply to toy with you. You weren’t used to being told no, and it showed. But he let you take off his helmet in a moment of thoughtless self-indulgence, scratching the part of his subconscious that itched to be touched, stroked, held. Shedding the helmet in front of someone else didn’t really mean anything in an honorable sense—at least not to Boba. Nothing tied him to the habit except a desire to keep himself and his motivations unknown. It was easier that way. Less messy.

He acquiesced. "Since you asked so nicely."

Wrinkling your nose, you guided newly-bare palms to knead gently at your shoulder blades. The skin there was soft and warm, pliant under his sandpaper touch. "Keep mentioning it and I'll go back to being difficult."

The soap made foamy bubbles across your back, over your arms and the velvet slope of your hips. Fingertips ghosted through the space between your jaw and ear, where he remembered sucking in a soft bruise.

He liked being known by you.

⫸————————————————⫷

You clambered out the tub with all the grace of a baby krugga deer and about as much shame. Which is to say, none at all. The subsiding cold had left you tired, bones like jelly and mind sloshing its thoughts around with no real order. Boba was here. Had stayed. Was standing in front of you now, watching tiny water droplets trail down your feet and letting you balance on his arm to keep you from stumbling.

A towel was wrapped around your shoulders. The press of his hot mouth against your forehead followed close behind. “Go sit on the bed.”

For some reason, you didn’t mind listening to him this time. Chalk it up to moldable exhaustion, you thought. Definitely not the fact that his voice sounded especially nice tonight, or any number of other questionable reasons.

He was going to ruin you. Or you would ruin yourself. Any way it was construed, Boba would play a part.

Still only in a towel, you drank the stale tea that sat on your bedside table and watched in mild interest as the mercenary’s shadow emptied out tepid bathwater with the thick glugluglug of the drain. It washed down soap and all your shared secrets.

Was it wrong that you still wanted him? More, now that he’d done this for you? Now that it wasn’t just cruel kisses and groping hands? What sort of a person did that make you?

Your mind whispered it when Boba walked back towards you. Someone lonely.

He helped you slide a new chemise on when you asked him to, quick and steady over the thin linen ties. I bet you do that with all the girls, you’d teased. No, he answered simply. Just you.

He was going to ruin you.

“Do you have to go yet?” you asked quietly and climbed under the covers. They were green today. Life enjoyed coincidences like that.

Boba crouched down on the floor beside your lying figure and shook his head. A wide fingertip smoothed away the crease between your brows. He was doing lots of touching. You were not complaining. “Not ‘til morning.”

“You might as well then,” you mumbled and lifted up the embroidered blankets with a sleep-slack hand. “No one’ll bother us, I promise.” you answered the empty air, too heartsick to comprehend any possible insinuations and too tired to realize the fingers tracing your brow bone had paused. “I told them all not to come back until tomorrow.”

His shirt and pants were shed in an unceremonious pile. You were already half-asleep when he climbed into the other side of the bed, slotting his legs against yours like puzzle pieces. Two question marks curled into each other, his chest to your back and his lips brushing your head.

“Goodnight, princess.”

⫸————————————————⫷

You were dreaming about him.

He was the burning sun that every single one of your thoughts had orbited around for the last six months and now he was invading your subconscious, dream-talons taking the form of dark hands rubbing soft circles against you and then invading your open mouth.

In your dream, Boba touched you softly and not at all, a tease even in your self-serving imagination.

Then you woke up, and it wasn’t a dream anymore.

Two thick arms encircled your waist with a grip unyielding in their strength. They’d pulled you impossibly close, pressed up against his sleeping body until every ridge of his muscled stomach could be felt against your back. Something else was against your back.

Your head reeled in its effort to sludge through the fog of sleep and reach the reality of masculine hips. They shifted in an unintentional grind against your legs until you couldn’t bite back the gasp that bubbled out from your voicebox, the sound quiet, keening, and lost in the shuffled sounds of fabric. It was still dark out. The water-clock in the corner of your room read 01:25:02.

You hadn’t put on anything underneath the new chemise. Why bother, when he’d already seen everything? Your body had grown to be a thing for display, a clothes-hanger and object to be prodded by strangers, and you’d long since rid yourself of any precocious modesty.

But this was different.

When Boba touched you, it wasn’t to sew flowers in your hair or drape a sash over your chest. It was simply to touch. The thought made you light-headed with newfound embarrassment, wiggling in his grip until you turned to face his sleeping form.

All the heavy things he carried on his shoulders during the day were gone now. His bottom lip pillowed out when he slept and he looked younger, the perpetual downturn of his lips now settled below the black hair at his temples. You felt a sticky sort of fondness settle in your chest.

“Boba,” you whispered, two hands placing themselves on his tanned cheeks. They traced the divots of scars and premature lines with all the reverence of worshipfulness.

“Mmm,” his voice rumbled with eyes still closed. A warm mouth kissed the side of your palm.

“Boba,” you repeated, more desperate this time but not knowing what you were desperate for. The space between your legs already knew what it wanted, hot and pulsing with a familiar dampness. Traitor.

“What do you need?” The question wasn’t accusatory, nor annoyed at your waking him. It was known that he would give you whatever you liked. Eventually.

You. Just you.

“I don’t,” you huffed, the fabric sticking uncomfortably to your now overheated body as you squirmed, “I don’t know.” Lie.

“Think about it and tell me,” he whispered, eyes opening in their dark, heavy-lidded expectation. The moon and stars suspended outside offered light enough to see the smirk on his face. His skin was the color of burnt earth and of gods. Somewhere, far away in the canopy of carefully pruned trees, a single lark let out its warbled cry.

There was an old adage about being like a lamb to the slaughter. You’d never touched a lamb. Never seen a slaughter. But somehow, you knew it was true.

This lamb, dumb and tender-hearted, was willingly sacrificied.

"I...'' the word left you in the arc of your exhale, one whoosh of air that rattled your chest already wracked with fevered tremors. "I- want you to-"

"You want me to what, pretty thing?" His voice was low, dangerous. It made every part of you want him more. "Say it."

You weren't used to cursing. It was never tolerated and you barely ever heard it, but you'd learned enough to know what he wanted you to say. Which word he wanted to hear, and what it'd mean he would do.

"F-fuck. Me." you choked out, biting your lip to muffle the embarrassment of having to speak it out loud. The word was filthy and raw between your teeth. "Please?"

⫸————————————————⫷

You were dying. Possibly had already died. Were ascending up or barrelling down, you didn’t care as long as his wet mouth stayed between your legs and never, ever stopped.

Wide hands cupped at your skin and kneaded wherever they could reach, simultaneously rough and supplicating. Every pass of his tongue was enough to make you feel possessed. He was killing you.

“Good. Good girl.” he said against your swollen skin when your hips arced off the bed, your spine and toes stiffening for what seemed like an eternity during the damp lightning finish. It sounded like a growl, animalistic and vibrating. A burning, sweet hurt.

Some people call it “little death,” a lady’s maid once whispered underneath her hand in a giggle. “Little death?” you repeated incredulously. That seems a bit dramatic, don’t you think?

You understood now.

Boba didn’t let up, never once letting his touch waver even as you buckled and swayed, all sense lost and all sensation compacting.  “Another,” he ordered. Your body listened, bending to his touch without complaint with eyes rolled back into your head.

You were dying.

⫸————————————————⫷

Boba let you lay against him in the downturn, rubbing mindless shapes into the bone of your wrists as you struggled to breathe. Your neck was cradled in one of his broad, bronze palms. It gave one tiny, imperceptible squeeze. An accident. A test.

You pawed at the hand resting heavy on your nape until it moved to leave completely, but was caught instead by your fingers and guided—slow and curious—to cup at your bared throat.

“Dirty,” the man noted in a dark rasp and rolled over to face you. There was a slight smirk in his voice, but that could’ve just been your imagination.

“I don’t see you...” your voice trailed off into a wheeze as Boba’s thick fingers pressed into the sides of your neck, “—see you complaining.”

He kissed you. And kissed you. And kissed you. An eternity was spent opening the seam of your mouth while he choked you softly, baring your pulsating soul with only your bedroom walls as witness to the present depravity. The air was filled with begging and grunting—simple noises that stuttered and left your sheets ruined.

You wanted more. You couldn’t help it.

His chuckle morphed into a groan when you reached down to touch him with widening eyes, squeezing him curiously after pulling down his boxers. “You’re a brave little thing,” Boba noted with a hint of greedy pride. “Never done this before, have you?”

Your own hands served as poor substitutes all these years. You shook your head no.

“D’you want to?”

Of course you did. This was the only thing you wanted. The only thing you would ever want, over and over until your body turned to dust under him. A million grains of fizzy, burning blaster powder. A million comets passing by a supernova.

You nodded and tucked your face into the space between Boba’s shoulder and neck, rolling onto your side and hooking a leg over his hip. Your chests met, damp with sweat as cool air flowed over bare skin. The covers had long since been pushed aside. “Safe,” you said in a heady moan over the shell of his ear. “Implant.”

Thank goodness for modern medicine.

⫸————————————————⫷

It hurt a little at first, but most of the discomfort melted away as he whispered to you, sweet and cloying praises alongside filthy things that you’d be hard-pressed to repeat in public. They wove together in an endless stream of baritone vowels, lapping over each other like ocean waves until everything was a gyrating, syrupy playback.

He let you move against him, mouth open and sloppy against your temple when you whined at the stretch. The hands at your back didn’t push. Only placated. “I know, I know,” Boba assured you with fingers rubbing sympathetic desire into your flesh. It would bruise, but you’d come to like the marks. Your hips bucked at their own accord when he pressed up against something tight, the friction burning a bright, numb spark. “Slow down,” he mumbled into your hair, “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

Never in your life did you think this was how it would be. Your first kiss, more of a battle than it was a kiss, served as fuel for the expectations of your first time. Never in your life did you think he would be the one telling you to go slow.

It was for your sake, you knew that. But it was still surprising.

You huffed and bit the shell of his ear in childish revenge, blowing a puff of air where you knew it would tickle. Boba only growled and tightened his arms around your waist, rocking into you slow and deep. “Don’t tease,” he warned.

The new movements robbed you of the ability to speak until all you could do in response was lift your head from where it had rested on his shoulder, meeting impossibly dark eyes in lust-addled vision as a building pressure colored the entire world in shades of black, red, and green.

In a moment of complete and utter lack of propriety, you leaned forward, smiling like a woman deranged, and pressed a kiss to his nose.

Boba came undone the same minute you did. It was a rush of wet, rocking pleasure, spreading like thick webs of lighted fire from inside your blood and out to fill the room with quiet devotion. Panting, bursting, close, messy. You’d never felt so whole.

Your foreheads met and you went cross-eyed trying to look at him again. That’s all you wanted to do. Look at him. Uttered underneath his jaw, where the skin was smooth, was your finishing admission. “I love you.”

You didn’t say it to hear it repeated. It was just to give it a shape. Make it concrete. Said more to yourself than him, really.

But Boba did repeat it. Over and over and over. In the tangle of your arms. I love you. In the kiss to your breasts. I love you. In the towel brought between your legs. I love you. In the settled silence of new sleep. I love you, I love you, I love you.

⫸————————————————⫷

The watery light of dawn melted through heavy curtains and you awoke, body weighed down with lead and gold. Sweet soreness had made its home in your muscles and you were loath to get up, but the man you’d been using as a pillow had very rudely left his post.

“I have to go,” he said, already awake and standing sentry by your bed. You raised your head up from the pillows in groggy protest to meet his blurry figure. If you squinted, there were three of him standing there at once.

A shake of your head rid your vision of the doubles, leaving the lone man. He kissed you—quick and dirty, with tongue—and squeezed your exposed breast, prompting a low moan to tumble from your mouth before he slipped his blaster into the holster at his hip. It wasn’t even 6 in the morning and you were thoroughly debauched. What a scandal, you thought (not for the first time) with passing amusement. A bounty hunter and a princess.

Watching in a dim haze as Boba finished strapping on his amor, you tracked the reflection of the sun in the metal’s lazy movement.

He leaned over you. “I’ll be back soon.” Soon. What did soon mean? Another kiss, slow and careful on the bow of your mouth. One more on the slope of your forehead. For luck, you supposed. Whether it was for you or him didn’t matter much. “Promise.”

Slowly, as he climbed out onto your balcony and was gone with a flash of jetpack light, you wondered if it was a mirage; a dream, maybe. The entire night a hallucinatory haze, a figment of your overactive imagination and reckless romanticism.

But the towel left discarded on the floor and the pulsing ache between your legs was very, very real.

#boba fett x reader #boba fett/reader #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett x you #boba fett fic #boba fett oneshot #boba fett imagine

[lunarflux]

"baby i drink to forget - not to remember"

hwang hyunjin x reader

genre — fluff!au

drinking!!!

suggested background music: x

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What started out as one bottles suddenly turned into ten.

Your group of friends sat in a circle on the floor, passing soju bottles around like greetings at the thought of another long year of friendship that came and went. It was already past midnight, but the crickets were silenced by the boom of spontaneous laughter and conversation.

Hyunjin always sat beside you. You never knew why - in all the years of friendship you had, he always chose the seat next to yours. He'd smile and laugh with you, but he never got any closer than the two inches of the space between seats. It's been years, but you never thought to ask.

Tonight was game night. Felix bought some card game and thought it was a good idea to play this over drinks. You had to admit this was more fun than watching everyone play games or going out to a club.

"It's called We're Not Really Strangers -" Felix opened the box.

You groaned, recognizing the name. "Felix, that's like an emotional game; why'd you pick that?" You hiccupped in between shots.

He shrugged, "I dunno. It seemed like a fun thing to do. I can't remember the last time we had a deep talk other than that one wedding we went to when Changbin started crying into his cake after one too many shots."

Had Changbin not finished a bottle of two by himself, he might have been awake for that jab.

Hyunjin puffed out his cheeks, taking the deck from Felix and shuffling it in between taking another shot. "Five years of friendship, and you still want to know more about us, huh?"

Felix smiled in between exchanging glances with your friend beside him. He'd had a crush on her for ages. A small game like this should've said enough.

In one word, describe how you feel right now.

When was the last time you surprised yourself?

Strangers would describe me as _____. Only I know myself as ______.

The game went on until eventually you and Hyunjin were the only ones awake. Felix left with his crush for a midnight ice cream run. Changbin had to be carried home. It was just the two of you. He pulled the next card.

"Are you missing anyone right now? Do you think they're missing you?" Hyunjin read aloud to you. "Well?"

"Well, what?" You sneered.

"Are you missing anyone?" He smirked.

"No."

"Not even one person?"

"No."

"Why not?"

You shrugged. "Everyone I really like is here in this room. What's to miss?"

Hyunjin almost looked satisfied. Skipping your turn, he picked up another card. "Wild card - make an assumption about me. Says we both have to answer."

You turned to face your friend.

As if he wasn't expecting you to get so close, he nearly leaned away. You could smell the faint scent of alcohol on his lips. Or maybe it was yours? After the last bottle, you couldn't really tell anymore.

Hyunjin was always such a curious character. Back when you were in high school, he was always so sweet. He'd offer to walk with you to school or share his lunch if you tried to diet. You almost swore he liked you at some point, but it just never happened. He stayed a dear friend, one you'd see every month or so for drinks.

When Hyunjin was drunk, he'd lean on you. This was the only time he ever did, and part of you wished he wouldn't drink when you were together because in his drunken splendor, he'd talk - and you never forgot what he'd say.

"Be my girlfriend."

And every time you'd respond -

"Ask me when you're sober."

He never did. He never really really remembered. The next days were always full off groans and complaints of hangovers, yours included. Even though he'd ask you what happened, you knew those were just drunk words. If he didn't remember in the morning, it couldn't have been real.

It would be a complete lie to assume you never developed anything deeper than friendship-like love for Hyunjin. It was hard not to. But every time you tried to get close, it was like he wanted to pull away. After all these years, it didn't make sense anymore.

Drunk words are - after all - drunk.

"You go first." You closed your eyes, finally feeling one or two drops of soju hitting your spine. It had been too long since you drank this much. It was a miracle you weren't passed out like the others.

Hyunjin laughed once then nothing. He just stared, like he was looking for the words.

"I don't know what to say."

"Oh, come on - " You pushed his shoulder, your head rolling forward. "There has to be something you think you know about me. Anything. Something."

You were close to laying back down on the floor when you suddenly felt Hyunjin's hand on your back, keeping you upright.

You grimaced. "This really is the only time, huh."

He looked at you with concern. "I'm sorry?"

You leaned in closer to him, poking his cheek with your finger. "You always hug the guys. You never hug me! You don't lean on me unless you're drunk - you never get close to me." You giggled, turning your five year long question into sarcastic banter. "How come you never want to touch me, huh?"

"It's not like that." He smiled, poking your pouted lip. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what." You pouted harder. "You never get close to me when you're sober, you never lay a hand on me. You only ask me to be your girlfriend when you're drunk. Why can't you be like that all the time?"

Hyunjin's smile slowly dropped. He looked at you seriously.

"Why, you want to be my girlfriend?"

You stifled a laugh. This was no time to be serious. For once, it looked like you were more drunk than him, and this wasn't the time to get caught up in feelings you always tried to forget. "Shut up. You don't mean it."

"You think I don't want you to my girlfriend?"

You turned your head only for your cheek to meet Hyunin's finger. He kept his finger there, his smile growing again. "You're cute, you know that?"

Pushing his hand away, you released a heavy sigh. "Hwang Hyunjin, I told you before, so I'll say it again. Say these things to me when you're sober. I'm too drunk to deal with you teasing me."

"I'm not drunk." He shrugged. " You guys drank the most, and I have work in the morning. Why would I drink?"

You blinked once. Twice.

"You're being serious. You're not drunk?" Suddenly, you felt very sober.

Hyunjin's smile stretched across his entire face, like he was watching a puppy stumble over its own legs. "I never drink enough to get that drunk. I sober up very quickly - I thought you knew."

"How the hell would I know that?" You sneered. "We always drink together!"

"Yeah, all of us. It's not like you're counting my shots or checking when I stop drinking."

"Then why didn't you ever ask me when you were sober?"

"If you really thought I only wanted you to be my girlfriend because I was drunk, then I thought you really didn't want to." Hyunjin patted your head. "You're always so touchy with the guys. I didn't want to be like everyone else. If you were my girlfriend, I'd get jealous."

"I still can't tell if you're lying - " You poured yourself another shot before lifting the shot glass to your lips, but instead of feeling another stinging kiss of liquid, you just felt the back of Hyunjin's hand, shielding the soju from reaching the edge.

He grabbed the shot and downed it in one easy swig. Placing the glass back down, he sighed. "Fine -"

Hyunjin pulled your face close to his, the taste of soju still glimmering on his lips. A forceful yet deep kiss, he sighed into you before dropping one hand to the back of your neck, the other to your waist. His lips moved slowly but with a hunger. Your head was spinning, but whether it was because of the alcohol or just him you couldn't tell. Squeezing the back of your neck ever so slightly, Hyunjin lowered you down to the floor, suddenly more sober than ever.

He looked at you - but it was like you were looking at him for the first time ever in your life. The apartment suddenly seemed so quiet as his gaze followed your heaving chest, breathless from his kiss.

"Yes, I want you to be my girlfriend." He finally spoke. "But I don't want you to answer until you're sober."

Hyunjin stood up and gathered his things. After what seemed like an hour, you sat up and realized he was gone.

Your head was still spinning - that couldn't have been real.

**

You hadn't seen Hyunjin in a week.

Not for lack of trying, but whenever you unlocked your phone only to see his name at the top of your notifications, you couldn't help but panic. Yes, you woke up with a hangover the next day, but the memory of that kiss was burned into your brain, and it was the only thing you could think about.

Hyunjin lived at an apartment complex down the street.

You couldn't help but wonder if he'd magically appear in front of you, and then your words would just be caught in your chest.

Look down, look down. Just keep walking.

Ready to enter your apartment, your curiosity peaked. Looking across the way, you spotted him. Standing in front of his apartment.

With a girl?

Blinding fury took over as you made your way over to him. The girl had already walked away, but something in you just said -

"You're such an asshole!" You gave him one hard shove, nearly pushing him over.

Hyunjin laughed once. "Did I miss something?"

"You - and the - she -"

"- is my neighbor. She got my mail by accident." He opened his back to reveal a small package and two envelopes.

You stumbled back, immediately regretting your entire existence.

Hyunjin took two steps toward you as you took two back. "You haven't been answering my texts."

"W-Well, I -" You couldn't find your words let alone remember how to speak. "I just - "

"So are you ready to give me your answer?"

"What answer?"

He leaned in again, cupping your cheek with his hand. Barely grazing your lips with his, Hyunjin teased. You could feel his breath playing over your skin. Gently resting his lips on your forehead, he pulled away with a content grin.

"I won't kiss you again unless it's as your boyfriend."

It took everything in you not to punch him straight in the stomach, so you settled for a hit to the arm. "Why -" and again "- didn't -" and again "- you just -" and once more "- ASK ME."

Hyunjin couldn't hold back in his laughter. "Sue me for getting nervous in front of the girl I like!" He grabbed hold of your hand before lacing his fingers between yours. "Is that a yes?"

"I hate you." You fought back a laugh.

He nodded. Pulling you into his chest, Hyunjin kissed the top of your head.

"I guess that means yes."

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids one shot #stray kids oneshot #skz one shot #skz oneshots #skz fluff #skz scenario #skz scenarios #skz imagine #skz imagines #skz fic #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x o/c #hyunjin x oc #hyunjin fluff #kpop imagines #stray kids #skz

[leejeongz]

jealous treasure (asahi-junghwan)

🔅i’m gonna use another member in each one because it’s easier than making up a whole new person and explaining a bit about them for each one if that makes sense. but this is just for fun, it’s fictitious, remember that pls🔅

find the other members here

🌷 asahi:

“it’s wednesday” junkyu announced. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to say whatever was in his brain, but today the other boys decided to humour him a little and asked him to elaborate.

“we should wear pink” he clarified as if everyone should know. asahi rolled his eyes, you’d been pestering asahi to tell junkyu to watch mean girls since well, forever, and that now he’d finally watched it, he wouldn’t shut up about it.

“but you’re not wearing any pink” asahi pointed out after scanning his whole body.

junkyu corrected him by fetching the hoodie he was expecting to wear. it was a soft, baby pink colour, with a little heart on the pocket right in the middle. asahi recognised it straight away.

“where did you get that?” he asked. junkyu couldn’t lie, he’d been caught red handed.

“from your closet” he confessed “but you always wear it and i thought i might look cute in it, can i wear it just for one day?” he begged with pleading eyes.

“hm let me think” asahi put his hand to his chin with sarcasm written all over his face “no” he snatched it from junkyu’s hands. “why would you wear y/n’s hoodie anyway?” he asked

“i-” junkyu stuttered “i didn’t know it was theirs” he said while assessing the situation “but are you really jealous right now? i didn’t know you were the type” he laughed, drawing the attention of the other members.

“no” he scoffed, “i’m not jealous, i just don’t think that they would want you wearing their hoodie. you smell” he spat out, turning his back and heading for his room.

“someone call y/n” junkyu said, wanting you to hear what a jealous man your boyfriend really is.

“don’t you have something better to do, like finding your own pink hoodie, you know, like the one you never take off your own back?” asahi snaps back, referring to the infamous pink hoodie from junkyu’s trademark outfit. as he leaves the living room, asahi takes a hesitant sniff at the jumper, hoping junkyu hasn’t infected it with his scent so much so that it no longer smells of you.

🍄 yedam:

having been stuck inside your house for what felt like a year, you were grateful and willing to accept any invitation to leave. today’s invite came from your boyfriend, yedam, who’d recently been too busy working to come and see you, which was completely understandable. he’d asked if you’d like to join him and a few of his friends on a walk around a nearby park, you of course said yes.

with beautiful scenery came the chance to take beautiful pictures. noticing that your boyfriend was too preoccupied by the ice cream van, you asked one of his friends, jeongwoo, to take a picture of you by the fountain. he agreed and instructed you on how to pose so that it wouldn’t look awkward. you followed his advice and managed to get a few shots. you walked back over to jeongwoo, who innocently stood with your phone in his hand, when you saw your boyfriend come rushing over.

“what are you doing with their phone?” he questioned “they let you take photos of them?” he spat out in a hurt manner.

“yes…” jeongwoo replied before you stepped in.

“how much are they?” you asked, pointing in the ice cream van’s direction, not understanding what all the commotion was about.

“apparently they’re all out of ice cream” he mocked “but why did you let him take photos of you? that’s my job” he pouted with a soft tone to his voice.

“ooo our yedam is all soft for y/n” jeongwoo jeered which, judging by the look yedam gave back to him, was not appropriate. “it was just 3 pictures” jeongwoo clarified “the model isn’t that easy to work with anyway, they have no fresh ideas of their own to spice up my business” he scoffed jokingly while handing your phone back to you, causing yedam to finally crack a smile.

“⅕ stars, pictures came out wonky and the photographer is bossy, unlike my lovely yedam” you smiled, playing into the joke. it wasn’t long before yedam was back to his usual cheerful self and had also finally decided that an iced tea was a good substitute for ice cream too.

🧶doyoung:

there was a lot of things in your house that didn’t make sense, but the worst was definitely the paintings hung up in your room that you’d never gotten around to taking down, mainly because you couldn’t reach them but shhh. you’d always been too shy to ask doyoung, knowing he’d laugh at you and tease you for being too short to reach them, and given you hadn’t been together for that long, you weren’t sure how much you’d appreciate that being your first inside joke.

a friend of yours, jihoon, had come over to your house while doyoung was there, which wasn’t exactly an issue, he knew you and jihoon were friends and he respected that. the three of you often gossiped and gamed together, it was a common thing these days.

“i tell you this every time im here but those are so ugly y/n, please take them down” jihoon glanced up, locking eyes with the spooky man in the painting and shuddering.

“i can’t reach” you joked, forgetting your boyfriend was also there.

“i’ll do it then” jihoon announced, standing up and reaching each painting easily.

“i could have done that” doyoung whispered under his breath while staring at you. you turned to your left to see your boyfriend's unimpressed face. “why did you let him do it?” he questioned, seeming really quite angry.

“he offered, i wasn’t gonna say no” you defended yourself. jihoon took this as his queue to leave and take the artwork elsewhere, he didn’t know where, but anywhere was better than being in that room with you two.

“is it because of his big muscles? is it because you value his opinion more than mine?” doyoung asked, laughing at his own thoughts and how ridiculous they were but possibly true.

“no” you rolled your eyes before making eye contact again “its because he offered” you repeated.

“and if i offered?” he asked, expecting you to say that you would have declined.

“obviously i would have said yes” you replied, “they were horrible i don’t care who got them down i just wanted them gone”

“oh” he sat back and relaxed into the pillow “well i’m glad they’re gone. i didn’t like to say it, but they were creepy” he laughed with you. “the next thing to go is him though” he joked, seeing jihoon walk back into your room, which of course was replied to with a scoff from your sassy friend.

💥haruto:

your sleeping pattern was well and truly out of the window, so you decided to stay up and call one of your friends that you knew would be awake, hyunsuk. he was just like you, you both slept at 4am and woke up at 2pm, so he wasn’t that shocked when you called, wide awake like him.

“where’s haruto? wasn’t he supposed to be staying at your place tonight?” he asked, genuinely concerned about his friend. you flipped the camera to show your bed, where a certain sleepy haruto lay, peacefully entering dreamland. “he’s so cute” hyunsuk giggled, you cooed in agreeance, he really was the cutest.

you stayed on call for about an hour. you were currently laughing about the tiktok he’d just sent to you, your humour was exactly the same too so it’s wasn’t hard for you to crack the other up. all the commotion woke your boyfriend, whose bed head was clearly visible in the reflection of your opened laptop when he sat up.

“did we wake you?” hyunsuk laughed upon hearing a groan from his friend.

“we?” haruto responded in a sleepy voice. “who’s we?”

“uhh us” you pointed between you and the phone.

“y/n? hyunsuk?” he snapped out of his sleepy state quickly. “why are you two up at this time and on the phone together?” you looked at hyunsuk on the screen and smiled, trying to hold in your laughter. “turn that off and come to bed, i want cuddles, and i want you to get some sleep, unlike him” he flung himself back at the bed, only inches away from hitting his head on the headboard.

“wait for me” hyunsuk joked in a teasing tone.

“no, not you” haruto whined. “just y/n please” he smiled closing his eyes and opening his arms, ready for you to join him.

“i guess this is goodnight then” you said to hyunsuk, which haruto followed up with a goodnight for his friend too before you put the phone down.

“now, cuddles please!”

♟jeongwoo:

for jaehyuk’s birthday this year, he asked for a small gathering, just close friends, which you of course are included in since you and jeongwoo had been together for over 2 years now. when you arrived, you quickly gauged the atmosphere of the party was pretty light and fun, it wasn’t oppressive in the slightest. usually parties you attended were fully kitted out with loud music, dimly lit rooms and a bunch of strangers in every room, instead your friends were in the living room, just chatting and laughing.

“you came!” jaehyuk screeched, running over to hug you. “oh and you bought a plus one, jeongwoo” he joked around with your boyfriend, who just rolled his eyes in response.

it wasn’t long before the boys delved into the games cupboard and pulled out the “who’s most likely to” box. the oldest of the boys shuffled the cards and took the top one which read “who’s the funniest”. whenever you played, this one always seemed to come out first, so you changed your answer every time to please everyone.

you turned around your board with the name “jaehyuk” written on it. your eyes scanned the room to see almost everyone had his name written on their boards, probably because it was his party after all. you quickly diverted your eyes away, however, when you saw that jeongwoo had written your name, which should have made you feel happy but instead, you felt quite guilty for not writing his.

the game went on, and your name wasn’t written on jeongwoo’s board ever again, despite you putting his for almost everything positive. the rest of the evening, jeongwoo didn’t come near you at all, everyone noticed, everyone questioned it, it was so obvious that he was jealous, but there was no way he was admitting to it.

as you got ready to leave, you glanced over at the boy who was supposed to be staying with you tonight, sat firmly in his place on the sofa.

“jeongwoo, aren’t you coming?” you shouted from the door. “jaehyuk is staying here so you don’t have to worry about him” you teased, everyone else smiling at you and giggling silently.

“fine” he grunted. you made up on the way home, he couldn’t even remember how it all started, he just “wanted to make a point” which, sure, he did.

🌍junghwan:

you and junghwan never got to spend much time together before you became friends with the members since he was always with them or at school, which is why he’s never complained or showed any jealousy when you are with them.

today you headed over to their dorms to relax and play when you remembered, today was the day of junghwan’s english exam. you pulled out your phone and dropped him a quick good luck text before continuing your journey.

yoshi brought you up to his room where he said you could chill for a bit since everyone else was still sleeping, other than those who had school of course. yoshi began to ask you lots of questions, you learnt a lot about each other in that hour or so, and the conversation was flowing so well that you didn’t hear the door.

“y/n, you did remember?!” junghwan asked excitedly, clapping his hands while smiling from ear to ear. “you came all the way here to see me after i finished?”

“remember what?” you asked, bewildered. “your exam? yeah i sent you a text, i’m sorry i didn’t realise until i was over half way here else i would have gone to see you first” you confessed, feeling guilty. his face dropped at your honest words.

“you mean you came all the way here just to see yoshi?” he asked. “everyone else was in the kitchen, but you two were in here… alone…?” disappointed in your reasoning and forgetfulness, he slowly backed out of the room. he wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. he wanted to feel sad and upset, but did you really do anything wrong, he thought. “you couldn’t have just turned around and gone home”

“well i didn’t want to, i wanted to see my friends. i didn’t realise that most of them didn’t get up until the afternoon” you walked closer to him, praying that he didn’t try and get away. “i’m sorry i forgot about your exam”

he shuffled closer to you. you’d never argued before, and he wasn’t sure how to respond, so he hoped a hug would go down well. as he hugged you, he whispered his own apology into you hair “i’m sorry for jumping to conclusions”

#treasure #treasure reactions #treasure imagines #asahi #yedam #bang yedam #doyoung #haruto #jeongwoo #junghwan

[auburnaudry]

Fractured Family - Matthew Tkachuk

Chapter 1:

A/N: So this is the first time I have ever written literally anything. If you have any suggestions or feedback just let me know! I kinda want to make this a series, so if you are interested or have any suggestion on where to take this story I’m all ears!

Next Chapter —>

Summary: You and Matthew had a long history, dating for two years, until you guys “mutually” decided to split. It was civil and seemed liked the best option at the time. But shortly after splitting, you found out you were pregnant with Reign and everything in your life, including your relationship with Matt, became more complicated. (Flashbacks are in italics.)

Word count: 3293 words

It was really late at night and you just wanted to get your son to sleep. Him being only 3 months old, it was hard to get a consistent sleep schedule going, especially when you were sharing custody with someone who lives a completely different lifestyle than you.

After spending two nights with his father, your sons usual 10 minute bedtime routine turned into a long, drawn out, difficult ordeal, that you would be trying to correct for the next week. And once he was finally adjusted back to your routine, he was off to stay with his father again to continue the never ending cycle.

You rocked Reign in his chair for almost 40 minutes and finally settled him down enough to lay him back in his crib. You reached over to the changing table and turned the sound machine on, hoping that it would put him to sleep for even just a little while. You needed a break from the loud crying.

Walking over to the dresser sitting by the door, you grab the baby monitor and walked out towards the kitchen.

You mindlessly stared at your phone as you made your way down the hall. Distracted by your new notifications, you hadn’t noticed the handsome young man still sitting at your island waiting for you to return.

“Y/n/n”

“Oh my god, Matthew you scared me” you shouted, dropping your phone as your body jumped slightly from the shock of seeing someone unexpected in your apartment.

“I thought you left already, what are you still doing here” you continued as you picked your phone up off the ground, checking to make sure the screen wasn’t cracked.

You were caught off guard and slightly confused because Matt always left right after dropping your son off. You two had an arrangement that worked, minimal interaction that only revolved around your son. So when Matt was still lingering around your apartment almost and hour after dropping your son off, you couldn’t help but let your mind travel to the worst case scenario.

“Did something happen today with Reign?” You asked before he had a chance to respond to your first question.

You and Matt had a long history, dating for two years, until you guys “mutually” decided to split. It was civil-ish and seemed liked the best option at the time. But shortly after splitting, you found out you were pregnant with Reign and everything in your life, including your relationship with Matt, became more complicated.

“You should have been honest with me from the start then” you screamed at your boyfriend. You had been arguing for what felt like forever with no end in sight.

“I didn’t know what I wanted at the time y/n” he calmly responded “Fuck, I still don’t even know what I want, but I know its not fair to you, to keep going the way we are”. You two had been talking about where you see your relationship going in the future and this was the first time Matthew was really opening up to you.

As much as you begged Matt to express his emotions more over the course of your relationship, this time you wished he had kept them to himself.

“Y/n, you want to take the next step in this relationship and I’m not ready. I don’t know why I’m not ready but you are and I can’t hold you back.” Matthew sounded so sincere that you almost believed this was what you wanted too. “You need someone who is gonna take that step with you” key word was almost.

The past couple of weeks you had been hinting that you wanted to move in with Matt. You loved him and were sure you wanted to start the next chapter of your life with him. You never thought in a million years this would be his reaction but maybe you pushed him too much? Or maybe this was inevitable and he wasn’t looking at you as a long term investment. Whatever the reason, you now regretted even bringing it up.

“Okay, so two years down the drain I guess” you said as you rolled your tear filled eyes. His face fell at your words, he truly did love you and just wanted you to be happy. You were looking for forever and he admitted to not being ready for that kind of commitment. Instead of continuing a relationship that seemed to be at a stand still, the only option at this point was to end it. You weren’t going to sit there and beg him, you had too much pride to do that.

“I’ll just pack my shit and go” you walked past him to his bedroom to collect all the things that no longer belonged in his space. You almost expected him to follow after you, to fight for your relationship, but he didn’t, which hurt your heart even more. So you continued to pack up the things that had migrated from your apartment to his over the two years of being together. Your thoughts were now consumed with figuring out how you were going to move on and find someone to spend the rest of your life with, while he continued to live the bachelor lifestyle he was all so famous for.

Even though you rarely voiced it in your two years of being together, you were madly in love with him and broken hearted that he wasn’t willing to put in the effort to make your relationship work. You left his bedroom and made your way down the hallway, past the living room where Matthew was still sat, and out the front door with your bags in tow. You didn’t bother glancing back at him, out of fear you might do or say something you would regret.

2 weeks later…

You woke up and still hadn’t gotten your period. Your period had never been even a day late since you got it back in the 7th grade, so waking up for a 4th day in a row with no period, was worrisome. You didn’t think there was even a chance you were pregnant since you were on birth control, so you made an appointment with your gyno to ensure everything was okay. You were convinced it was just the stress of your recent breakup that was causing this irregularity in your cycle, but you couldn’t be sure without getting checked out first.

...

You pulled up to your doctors office for your appointment feeling extremely anxious. You just wanted to get it over with so you could stop stressing and go back to feeling sorry for yourself for getting broken up with.

You sat in the waiting room for what felt like an eternity. You scrolled through Instagram and somehow found yourself on Matthew’s page. It was definitely an unhealthy habit you had picked up since splitting. You couldn’t help it though, he was following new ig models everyday and in a sick way, you liked to compare yourself to them. It was a reminder that you weren’t what Matt wanted and Matt couldn’t be what you wanted anymore.

“y/n y/l/n” you looked up from your phone as your name was called “We’re ready for you”

You followed the nurse back to a bathroom located right next door to the exam room you usually got checked out in. The nurse handed you a cup to pee in, as you usually did at these types of appointments, and instructed you to change into a gown in exam room #2 once you finished up in the bathroom.

After you changed into the gown, the nurse came back to collect your sample and left you sitting on the exam table as you scrolled on your phone again, waiting for Dr. Cooper to come in.

“Y/n, congratulation you’re pregnant” Dr. Cooper walked in holding your charts. You had been going to Dr. Cooper since you were 16 and you had built a nice relationship through the years, talking about your personal lives and future plans during appointments. He was aware of your long term relationship with Matthew and by his enthusiastic tone and happy energy, it was clear that he was unaware of your recent breakup. You obviously didn’t expect him to know, the breakup was new and you only see him a couple times out of the year.

You couldn’t even process the news or anything else Dr. C had to say after that. Everything went fuzzy and it felt like you were in some crazy nightmare that you couldn’t wake up from. The only thing you did hear him say was that he expected you to be 8 weeks along from the information you told him and the ultrasound he performed.

You were a traditional person and always imagined you would be married or at least in a committed relationship before getting pregnant, so this entire situation had you in shock.

You were so numb from the news that you continued on throughout your day as normal, unsure of what else to do. But as you pulled into the parking lot of your apartment building, you rushed to get inside so you could finally breakdown and feel everything you had pushed aside for the past few hours.

You were silently praying your roommate wasn’t home when you walked through the door of your shared apartment so you didn’t have to face anyone. To your dismay, she was sitting in the living room calling for you when you walked through the door.

You hadn’t told her that you and Matthew broke up because you were so ashamed that the man you thought you’d spend the rest of you life with , didn’t feel the same way for you. The past 3 weeks you had been pretending Matt was away on a road trip or too busy with hockey to hang out whenever she asked about him. At this point you needed to get this off you chest so you walked right into the living room, sat down next to her, and unloaded the entire story before she even had the chance to say hello. As you spoke, her face turned from confusion to concern.

“Kay idk what to do, I don’t even want to tell him because I don’t need his help, but i feel icky when I think about having his baby and keeping it a secret.” You guys were talking through what you were gonna do about the situation.

Kaylee was the perfect person to ask because she also knew Matthew really well! Kaylee was the one who introduced you to Matt in the first place almost 3 years ago. They continually ran into each other while out at bars and talked so often they eventually became good friends. Being Kaylees best friend, you were later introduced to Matthew at a bar and you guys hit it off right away. You became really close friends and later started dating after a typical drunk love confession.

“And you’re definitely sure it’s Matt’s? Like there’s no chance it’s someone else’s right?”

“Yes of course I haven’t talk to anyone since the breakup, let alone slept with anyone!”

“I just want to make sure cause you didn’t even tell me you guys broke up, I wasn’t sure if I was missing any other important parts of the story” she paused for a second giving you a sympathetic look. The father was indisputable since you had only been with one man in the last two years.

“he’s a good guy y/n/n, I think he will be really understanding and a good father, it’s important you tell him, him and his family would want to know” She was right, she always is.

Before your talk with Kaylee, you fully prepared yourself to raise the baby on your own and expected nothing from Matthew. But when you thought about his family, a family that you had become a part of in the two years you were together, you couldn’t help but think of how disappointed they would be if they ever found out that you kept a part of them a secret. You had become extremely close with Brady and Taryn and their parents treated you like one of their own. They loved you and would unconditionally love your child, it wasn’t fair to them and more importantly, it wasn’t fair to your baby to keep them apart.

...

After a week of thoroughly thinking through all your options, you finally took Kaylees advice and reached out to Matt. You almost hoped he wouldn’t see your message or he would see it and just ignore it since you two hadn’t communicated since the breakup.

Y/n:

Hey Matty, it’s y/n, I’m not sure if you have free time in the near future but I kinda need to talk to you!

To your surprised he responded within minutes of your text.

Matty:

I’m happy you reached out, lets meet up! Can you do lunch tomorrow? Our usual lunch spot?

This all seemed too familiar, why was he texting you like you had never broken up and why did he respond at all? He could have easily said he was busy or trying to move on and didn’t want to talk, but he didn’t.

Y/n:

I was actually thinking we could do takeout or something and eat at my apartment?

You figure a private setting would be better for the news you were about to spring on him since you weren’t sure of the reaction you were going to get.

Matty:

Anything works babe

He had practice the next morning and a free afternoon so it was the perfect opportunity to tell him, giving him time to process since he had nothing going on for the rest of the day.

Matthew walked up to your apartment door the next day giving it his signature knock. You slowly walked to the door, opening it to find him standing there, carrying the to-go bags, filled with your favorite meal and wearing his perfect smile that almost made you forget why you called him over in the first place.

As you went to greet him, you caught a slight whiff of the food and the nausea that washed over you was so sudden and instantaneous, you almost didn’t make it to the bathroom.

On your run to the bathroom, you heard Matt’s footsteps following closely behind, but luckily you had enough time to lock the bathroom door before emptying the contents of you stomach in the toilet.

Matthew sat outside the bathroom knocking lightly “y/n are you okay” he waited patiently for your response.

When you felt the wave of nausea had completely passed, you stood up, flushing the toilet and making your way to the sink to rid your mouth of the taste that plagued it.

As you opened the door to the bathroom you were met with Matt’s concern filled face. If throughout your lunch date you wanted to change your mind about telling him, that option was completely off the table now. You had no choice but to explain what was going on and you just wanted to get it over with.

Matthew stood there staring, waiting for a response. “I’m pregnant” was all you could come up with.

He stared at you in complete disbelief but then realization washed over his face. “Who’s the father” was all he could manage, as if you would invite him over to tell him you were pregnant with someone else’s kid.

You wanted to roll your eye but they were so full of tears, you were scared that if you moved them, the tears would start running and you would fall apart in front of him.

“Yours” you whispered with a cold tone trying your best to keep your emotions at bay.

Matthew had alway wanted to be a dad and was great with his teammates kids, so you weren’t entirely surprised when he told you he wanted to be a part of your kids life.

You two spent countless hours and had countless lunch dates over the course of your pregnancy, talking about how you were going to co-parent and make everything work. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t secretly wish that you and Matt would end up back together, raising the family you always dream of having, but it seemed that ship had sailed for Matthew. His only concern was making sure his kid lived a happy and healthy life.

You were now waiting for a response from your ex on why he was still sitting in your kitchen so late at night.

“No no, Reign is fine everything is fine, I just need to talk to you about something” he said, not making eye contact with you. You were even more nervous now because you had no guess as to what he could possibly want to talk about.

“I’m talking to this girl” your entire world stopped spinning and your ears started to ring a little. You still weren’t use to Matthew talking to other women, you probably wouldn’t be for a long time, and now he wanted to talk to you about one of his hoes?

“Ummm okay” you said, unsure how you were even suppose to respond. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Things between us are getting a little more serious” you could literally feel you heart aching in your chest, but you continued to act unfazed by Matt’s admission. “I was just wondering what the appropriate time would be to introduce her to Reign”

You were almost stunned that he was even asking you such a stupid question. If it were up to you, Reign was never going to meet some trashy whore his father would bang every once in a while. Your son was only 3 months old, so to think that introducing him to a random, clout chaser was even an option for Matthew, made you extremely angry. Or maybe you were just jealous he had been seeing someone and it had gotten so serious that he was willing to introduce her to his newborn son.

You can’t even describe the feeling of the love of your life breaking up with you because ‘he wasn’t ready for commitment’, and then not even a year later he is in a serious relationship again but with someone else. You couldn’t help but think everything Matthew had told you was a lie, that he wasn’t afraid of committing, he was just afraid of committing to you.

“Y/n/n, did you hear my question?”

“Obviously” you spat “I just have to think, I wasn’t exactly prepared for this kind of question tonight or honestly at any point in the near future so I need time to think about it” you were bitter but you tried your hardest to not make it seem that way as you spoke.

“Take all the time you need, no rush, we’re obviously new to this whole parenting and co-parenting thing so we don’t have all the answers yet, but I don’t want to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” He finally made eye contact with you for the first time all night. You forgot how pretty his eyes were.

“Thanks for checking in with me, ill let you know when I figure it out” and with that he got up and made his way out of your apartment.

“Goodnight y/n” he said as he opened the front door and pulled his car keys out of his pocket.

“Night” you responded as you close the door behind him. Just as the door closed, Reign’s screams came over the baby monitor, distracting you before you had too much time to think about how alone you actually were.

#Matthew Tkachuk #Matthew Tkachuk x reader #Matthew Tkachuk fic #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #calgary flames

[pillow4iida]

HOME

Katsuki Bakugou

warnings: angst and character death !!!

“Y/n, what are you doing here?”

“Bakugou, I found you!”

“You sure did,” he sighed wrapping his arms around you

It had felt like an eternity since he held you in his warm embrace, he almost forgot how perfectly you fit with him.

But you were always there to remind him. No matter how long or short it had been since you saw each other, you always reminded him to come back home.

In the crook of his neck, you whispered “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” with tears gathering in your eyes.

“I know,” he responded wrapping himself around you tightly “but I’m here right now you idiot, so just focus on me would you?” he continued

A small laugh escaped while you wiped some of your tears away with your fingers. It had been a while, but you didn’t want to let go. You didn’t want to let go of something that felt so surreal. Seeing him again after al this time.

“Wanna go to the place?” He said already leading you there with a smile creeping up his face.

“Did I have a choice?”

“Nope!”

The “place” he was talking about was where it all started.

Where he first asked you to hang out. Where he first held your hand. Where you shared your first kiss. Just being around there caused each memory to come rushing back, just like the first night they happened.

Katsuki sat down on the bench placed in front of the hill, patting his hand where he wanted you to sit. You obliged sitting next to him letting the cold consume you.

“So you miss me or what?” He asked in that same dammed tone

“You haven’t changed a bit you know that?”

“Of course I would know that, now answer the question,”

The truth was, everything around you felt so serene, including you. Bringing back any old feelings would knock you right back to where you were before.

You looked to your side seeing a leaf in the wind. It glided through the air, just barely avoiding any obstacles in its path. Then finally, it gently fell to the puddle at the bottom, dragged underneath the surface by the water. You wished you were the leaf.

You wished you were anywhere but here with him, but being here with him was somewhere you’d wanted to be for forever. No matter what you did, you couldn’t bring yourself to face him.

“You know I miss you Katsuki,” you started. “I missed being with you every day, yelling at you when you fucked up,” you continued while your voice trembled. “I miss seeing you all the time, and that dammed smirk of yours whenever you knew I was lying,” you muttered tears now clouding your vision.

You didn’t need to see clearly to know he was looking at you the way he did when you fell in love with him. He always looked at you, but something about him when his gaze softened up and looked more caring is what made you fall for him.

His hands finally made their ways to yours, grabbing on to your fingers and rubbing circles on the back of your palm.

“Then why don’t you kiss me, come with me, do something to show you care dammit!” He sputtered tightening his grips around your hands.

Tears were silently streaming down your face at his actions. “Katsuki, you know I can’t-“ you started but he cut you off

“Enough of that, why can’t you just come here? We can manage, run away or stay underground, something, anything y/n,” He said raising his voice

Every time you saw him, the same outcome happened. No matter how hard you tried, leaving him was just as heart wrenching as the last time.

“I love you Katsuki,” you said holding on to his hands firmly

You finally looked up to see tears gathering in his eyes as well.

“I’ll always love you,” you said kissing him one last time.

There was always a feeling that spiked around this time. At the beginning, you didn’t quite know what it was. But me you knew, it was regret.

“Come back soon, okay dumbass?” He said, his voice cracking every few words

“I will.” You said turning around to leave.

And then you woke up.

Consumed by the cold and empty room as always.

You were welcomed by the familiar trail of tears after you saw him. They became a tradition at this point, but who wouldn’t cry after being so close, yet so far to someone they loved endlessly.

He was the person you laughed with every day and hugged when you needed a pick-me-up. Only Katsuki could call you names to make you feel better, or comfort you with just the look of his eyes.

There wasn’t a person that would ever amount to what you had, and that’s why you were alone, in your room, tears silently dripping down your chin.

Katsuki Bakugou had been dead for over 5 years.

There was nothing you could do to bring him back, that was the sad truth.

But you and him knew that although he had been gone for what felt like an eternity, he would always be yours.

Your soulmate.

Your best friend.

Your life.

Your home.

#bakugou kastuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou scenarios #bakugou headcanons #bakugou fluff #bakugou imagine #katsuki headcanons #katsuki imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou headcanons #bnha fluff #bnha headcanons #bnha imagines #mha headcanons #mha #mha fluff #mha imagines #bnha #my hero academia imagines #mha bakugo katsuki #bnha katsuki #mha katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #mha sad #bnha bakugou #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugou x y/n

[gojos-sidepiece-69]

Tokyo Tech Training- Chapter 2

Your eyes snapped open and you met eyes with your lover from last night. Fuck. Did that actually happen? It shouldn’t have. Damn it. No, god, no. I got drunk and had an insane fever dream, that’s it. Your brain worked in overdrive trying to rationalize your decisions from last night. Intense waves of shame and guilt washed over you when you realized that you were, indeed, practically sober.

You woke up with no headache. Your hips, however, were a different story altogether. “Morning, sunshine,” your dimpled teacher said intoxicatingly. It was too early for his bullshit. “Please, Gojo. Not now. I’m going to go home and pretend this didn’t happen, okay? Great.” His grin widened as he pointed out, “Oh, so we’re on name-to-name basis now? I thought I was still your Sensei.”

You ignored him and firmly got up only to catch a glance of yourself in a full body mirror. You saw purple peeking out at you from under Gojo’s shirt. You pulled it down slightly and felt at your raw, sore love bites. “Sorry about those, I always like it a bit rough,” Gojo explained, still shamelessly man-spreading in his bed. “I could tell,” you deadpanned. You lifted up the hem of your shirt to inspect the degree of damage he had done to your hips, and it was bad. You could barely even walk straight. You were planning on a pleasant walk-of-shame home, but seeing the state of your condition, that was now out of question. As if he read your mind, he said “I’ll give you a ride back.”

You got a sneak peak into the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer’s morning routine, which included putting on his dumb blindfold and dark navy uniform. He handed you your clothes from the previous night, taking extra care to comment about how he was upset he didn’t get to see you in your “cute little lacy bra.” Everyone had left earlier that morning, knowing from previous experience not to wake Gojo in the morning. In addition, they didn’t want to take their chances while their airhead of a teacher took the steering wheel, blasting trap music way too damn early. You, however, had the treat of experiencing this first-hand. “All aboard!” He said childishly as you stepped into his black BMW. He immediately turned the volume of his music all the way up, humming to Pick it Up by Famous Dex.

You closed your eyes, and muttered a silent prayer that you wouldn’t die in a freak accident on the way home. With your luck, Gojo would crash straight through a KFC Drive-Thru and laugh about it.

You were shaken out of this scary afterthought when you realized that Gojo was driving 65 MPH in a 35 zone. “What the hell? Slow down!” You yelled, but your driver only looked at you and laughed. “You didn’t have a problem with me going fast last night.” You gritted your teeth. Of course he was going to make your drive home as sarcastic and filled with as many horrible sex jokes as possible. The worst part was that you, at the back of your mind, were fighting back a small laugh. But you weren’t about to confirm that he was funny. So you slowly exhaled through your nose, until your breath hitched at the back of your throat.

Gojo’s hand had snuck past the gear and onto your knee. Keeping his (inexplicably blindfolded) eyes on the road, it slowly snaked up to your thigh and rested there. He could feel you tense up and smiled to himself. He loved the effect that even just his hands had on women. The sensation gave you flashbacks of the night before. He touched a bruise on your inner thigh that he had licked and sucked so tenderly last night, and you shuddered. He drew small circles, but didn’t go any further.

The tires screeched to a halt right outside Tokyo Tech, and you clambered out of his car as fast as you could. You left in such a rush that you dropped your “cute, lacy bra” on the passenger-side floor. You didn’t even notice. Luckily it was Sunday, and you wouldn’t have to worry about seeing your teacher until tomorrow. “Have a great day!” He yelled after you, and you flipped him off classily without so much as a backwards glance for your superior. As soon as you got to your dorm, you dramatically collapsed onto the mattress.

You were so tired from fooling around the entire day yesterday that you slept through Sunday in its entirety. You arose early Monday morning and groaned when you remembered that it was going to be your first Field Training day. And you were absolutely correct in thinking that you were most definitely not ready.

“Each of you will be assigned a Jujutsu Sorcerer to shadow for your field practice today. Watch how they exorcise curses, take mental notes, and follow each of their directions carefully. Megumi and Nobara, you’ll be going with Nanami. Yuji and Y/n, you’re stuck with me,” Gojo said, keeping eye contact with you for an uncomfortably long amount of time. You thought to yourself, I might as well just start calling it blindfold-contact, if I can’t see his gorgeous eyes. I mean, eyes. Gojo whistled and led you and Yuji back to his black car. Yuji ran like the track-star he was, yelling “SHOTGUN!” so loudly that you didn’t care to argue.

He threw the door open and leaped into the passenger seat, while Gojo took the wheel and you occupied the backseat. Yuji took the liberty of connecting to the aux, this time blasting Tetris by Derek King. Once again, it was way too early in the morning to be listening to songs about ass. But this issue did not seem to exist for the Tokyo Tech’s favorite resident ass men, Yuji and Gojo. Or as you liked to call them, Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb-ass.

Not even a comfortable minute into the drive, Yuji energetically bent over and picked up your forgotten bra. “Ooh, looks like Gojo Sensei is getting some! Who’s the unlucky girl?” Yuji joked around. “Oh, Gojo. GOJO,” the pink-haired puppy-boy fake moaned like an animal in pain while poking fun at his teacher. Your sensei, ever the enabler of horrible jokes, chuckled along. He glanced up into the rear view mirror and made eye contact with you, breaking it as soon as he swerved into the wrong lane. “At least tell me what she looked like!” Yuji practically bursted at the seams. Gojo sighed and offered a single comment to his student that was enough to temporarily stave off his curiosity and shut him up. “She had a great ass.”

You heard a genuinely amazed “Wow!” from your fellow first-year as blush once again danced onto your cheeks. You broke the car’s mounting tension by piping up and asking, “So where are we actually going?” Gojo explained that their Field Practice entailed an actual mission to retrieve one of Sukuna’s fingers. What the hell? You thought to yourself. You had barely one day of instruction and you were being thrown into the deep end already? Jesus Christ. But somewhere deep inside your mind, you knew that Gojo cared for his students and would never let any of them get hurt.

Rudely interrupting your thoughts for the millionth time, Gojo interjected, “But we’re stopping by the bakery first. I need my morning fix.” Your stomach grumbled at the thought of food just as you remembered you hadn’t eaten yet today. With one shitty parallel-parking job, you had arrived right outside the Ichiban Pan bakery. The three of you filed into the bakery, the bell on the door ringing as the sweet aromas supplied you with some much-needed serotonin. You walked up to the counter, and immediately noticed how beautiful the cashier was. She had long, dark hair and a figure that anyone would drool over.

To your surprise, she said, “Gojo...back here already? I knew you hadn’t had enough of me yet,” as she eyed him lustfully. “Of course I had to come back for seconds. Your goods were just so...soft and sweet,” he smiled coyly as he leaned onto the counter and shamelessly flirted back. The woman reached over and toyed with Gojo’s blindfold as his smile grew. She said, “So, when are we going to have some more fun?” He answered, “Always so eager, huh? Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn soon.” You couldn’t tell if your face was heating up with annoyance at the thought of Gojo delaying the mission to flirt with one of his girls, or at the fact that you felt...jealous. Jealous that you weren’t the only one he had eyes for, and envious that this girl was older and maybe even more attractive than you. She made you feel plain in more ways than one, and your mind started to wander.

Did Gojo touch her like how he touched me? How many girls has he had before? How many is he with right now? Damn it. You shook off the bothersome thought. Maybe it was your innate competitiveness as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, but you knew you had to get him back. Fair and square. You told yourself it wasn’t because you wanted more from him, but it was because you wanted to make him feel jealous in the exact same way. Whatever it was, whenever the time would come, you were going to leave him frustrated.

Three delicious dangos and thirty minutes later, you found yourself at the site of the curse: a closed off mall. While you were now right outside of the car, you could feel the cursed energy radiating out from its epicenter. “There’s one unregistered first-grade curse that you need to extract Sukuna’s finger from. And I’m going to osbserve,” Gojo said while he sat on the hood of his car. “You’re going to what? I’ve barely had ANY training,” you sputtered angrily, but Yuji was already pulling your arm and dragging you towards the curse. Well, you thought to yourself. Might as well prove yourself a worthy comrade to Yuji and a promising student for...he didn’t matter right now. The two of you sprinted forward as Gojo lowered a dark veil over the area, blackening the sky.

Yuji shoved the front doors open and leapt inside, and you jumped in after him. The lights were broken and flickering, casting an eerie glow over the abandoned mall. The escalators were still running, but you could hear distant crashing sounds. “This way!” Yuji yelled, as the two of you sprinted up the escalator to the second floor. The crashing increased in volume, and it was clearly coming from a destroyed souvenir shop ahead.

You laid eyes on the grotesque curse, which resembled a deformed, melting, red plastic mannequin that was at least twice your height. Its arms immediately extended and shot out at you, but you dodged out of the way. You hadn’t learned any techniques yet, so it seemed like you and Yuji would be teaming up and harnessing your raw cursed energy to deliver blows to the mannequin. The curse opened its mouth to reveal jagged teeth that caged in one of Sukuna’s fingers. “There it is!” you shouted. But in an instant, both you and Yuji were caught off guard and knocked to your feet by the mannequin’s extended arms.

They grew spikes that jutted out and beat into your sides. You yelped and coughed in pain, starting to see blood pool out from under your uniform. You gritted your teeth and tried your best to deliver blows to sever the curse’s arms, but it was useless. Yuji, too, seemed trapped in between the sharp spikes. After ten minutes of intense stabbing pains and useless struggle against this first-grade curse, Yuji piped up. “I think I’m going to have to let Sukuna take over and destroy this curse.” Your eyes widened. You had only heard stories of the demon king, and they were all horrific. But it was between that and death, and you both made the split-second decision. “Do it,” you nodded.

You watched from your position as Yuji let Sukuna take over his body. Black tattoos etched their way across his toned body, which was exposed to you after he carelessly tore his tightening shirt off. His smile grew wide and you heard a malicious laugh. “Fool,” Sukuna said directly to the curse, before ripping its right arm off with brute force. “You think you’re any match for me?” Before its arm could regenerate, Sukuna tore off its other one and freed you before tossing you aside like a corpse while informing you that you were “in his way.” You hit your head against the front window of the store and groaned. You watched the mannequin open it’s mouth and shoot out it’s razor-sharp dagger teeth at Sukuna, but he just grabbed onto the curse’s head and tore it right off with ease.

He reached two fingers into the curse’s mouth and extracted the finger, examining it with a slight grin before swallowing it. “Feels so good,” he murmured while throwing his head back and laughing loudly. A wave of confusion washed over you. If the job was done, why hadn’t Yuji switched back yet? What was going on? You shivered and backed up slightly as Sukuna turned his head to look down at you.

“You know,” he drew out a breath as he kneeled down and picked up a scrap of cloth from Yuji’s torn shirt. “I haven’t taken over a vessel in ages. And that means I haven’t had a woman in a very,” he stepped closer to you, “Very long time.” You looked up at him from the ground, taking in his mouthwatering physique. This curse made you forget about logic for a minute and revert to primal instinct. The first thought that ran through your brain was running your tongue over his abs. However, a second later, you had an even better idea. Why not let Sukuna have his way with me? That would show Gojo. I want him to hear me moaning while he’s still sitting in his stupid BMW, blood rushing to his dick as he thinks about me getting fucked stupid by the undisputed king of curses. That thought alone was enough to push you to answer, “And what do you want me to do about that?”

“You’re going to do as I say. Let me fuck you until you can’t remember your own first name.” Your heat throbbed at that, and Sukuna wasted no time binding your hands together tightly with the scrap of cloth. This was really happening. You were about to get destroyed by the legendary Sukuna in the shattered storefront of a souvenir shop. In the dark. Without any semblance of a warning, Sukuna ripped your uniform top right off of your body, leaving behind only scraps of fabric. You shivered at the sensation of being exposed to the cold. You looked up at him wearing only your plain black bra and uniform skirt, and his eyelids lowered. “Fucking slut,” he said, as he ripped off your bra with the same fervor. He smiled hungrily as your nipples perked from the chills, and groped at your breasts with both hands.

He admired how they fit perfectly within his calloused hands, and how he could feel your heartbeat rapidly soar. With fear. Humans really are useless creatures, aren’t they? He thought before he demanded, “Open your mouth.” You complied, and he slid two long digits all the way inside. You felt one hit the back of your throat and you moaned onto his fingers as they slid back out. He rubbed his fingers back onto your breasts, coating them with the wetness of your own saliva. You moaned loudly with pleasure, positive that your pathetic Sensei could hear you from outside.

“That’s good.” Sukuna approved of your moaning. The thought of him making you arch your back, screaming and crying for him pushed him on further. His hands aggressively found your skirt, tearing it easier than paper. He looked down at your soaked panties and felt the urge to make you feel small and embarrassed. “You’ve gone and made a mess of yourself. I’ll just have to get rid of them,” you saw Sukuna’s tongue move around in his mouth as he forcefully tugged off your panties. His hunger got the best of him, and he bent down to let his tongue take one long lap along your dripping cunt. “Fuck,” he breathed as you threw your head back, hitting against the wall. “I haven’t tasted a woman in so long,” he said, before bending back down and slipping his tongue into your slit.

His strong arms kept your shaking legs pried wide open for him, sharp nails tightly gripping into your thighs, and you could only groan louder. He continued to drink at your slippery juices until you screamed and came into his mouth. He licked his lips as he pushed your thighs back together and lifted himself up. “I’m not even close to finished with you yet,” he growled, sensing you getting slightly tired.

He lifted you up and threw you onto your stomach. You propped yourself up shakily using your elbows while he pushed your head down with one of his hands. You arched your back for him, granting him an easier entrance. Kneeling behind you, he teased his dripping tip at your folds while squeezing at your ass. The buildup was almost too much for you to take, so you began to whine “Suku-,” but before you could finish, he entered you roughly. Sukuna mercilessly railed into your pussy from behind, one hand simultaneously gripping your hair and pushing your head down, while the other dug crescent-shaped nail marks into your hips.

His pace was so fast that you could only scream and curse and whine his name, but he only laughed and threw his head back. “Sl-slower,” you begged, tears spilling down your face, but Sukuna maintained his speed. Your useless request only prompted him to move his hand from your hair to your throat, gripping you tightly. “Don’t ask me that again,” he growled, still thrusting.

You could feel his thrusts become more loose and sporadic, and finally he pulled out and groaned deeply while spilling his cum all over your thighs. You panted and stood up slowly, but you held back a shocked scream. You watched in horror as Gojo Satoru stood before you, blindfolded eyes trailing over the white, creamy liquid dripping down your thighs. You instinctively covered your breasts and cunt, managing a weak, “how long were you watching?” Gojo took a step forward. “Well, I decide to assess the situation for myself when I heard you screaming for mercy, so I came in at about the time...” he mimed checking a fake watch, “a 1000-year-old curse started pounding you from behind.”

You blushed, heart racing from the exposure and accidental voyeurism. You hadn’t expected him to actually come see you for himself. However, your eyes took a quick trip to see a growing bulge in your Sensei’s pants. You smiled to yourself as you thought, mission accomplished.

🌹

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo sensei #jujutsu kaisen #jjk anime #jjk smut #anime #chapter 2 #long fic #fanfic #writing #fanfiction #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna

[aot-snk-4238]

My thoughts on AOT No Requiem (Fanmade Ending) Part 1:

With another chapter of this story coming out soon, I thought now would be a good time to share my thoughts on the first part. Before I do that, though, I have a few things that I would like to get off my chest.

A part of me hates that this project exists. Not because I find it disrespectful, but because it serves as a bitter reminder of what a complete mess this ending caused among many fans. I'm still in disbelief how things got so bad so quickly. First, you've got the people who hated it. People began turning on Isayama and calling him a terrible or incompetent writer, regretting ever getting into the series, insisting that it was worse than Game of Thrones, the list goes on and on. People who liked the ending are now endlessly referred to as "ending defenders" or more crude names like "Isayama cockriders," as though they're a bunch of incompetent fools who don't know the first thing about reading comprehension all because they just happened to like it. And then of course you've got the other extreme end of the spectrum where the ones who were disappointed are accused of not understanding the story or they're only upset because their favorite ship or fan theory didn't become canon. This, too, is very demeaning and invalidating for those who grew up with this series that they gave their heart to and cherished for so long, only to have it do what they felt was a complete 180 at the very last second that undid every part of the story they thought was special and unique. It's one of the hardest slaps to the face you can get as a reader and long-time fan, and while I can't fully relate to everyone's feelings, I can at least understand and acknowledge that it's there and it shouldn't be laughed at. Now with all of that out of the way, here are my thoughts and analysis of this fanmade ending and how it differs from Isayama's.

To start things off, I found that part 1 started off similar to how 137 did in the canon manga, with Armin and Zeke conversing in PATHS. The biggest difference would be kid Eren being transported there and seeing his older self. To be fair though, this chapter was only about half the length of what we're used to reading, so I'm sure we'll get a lot more in part 2 onwards.

While Zeke is enlightening Armin on the history of the earth and how the life form that attached itself to Ymir sought to avoid death forever, young Eren is in PATHS too with his older self, witnessing the moment Ymir found the tree and fell in it to become the first titan. At first, there is no dialogue exchanged between them. They just hold hands and watch. Meanwhile, Zeke is still talking to Armin about Ymir and how she continued to serve her oppressive master despite acquiring godlike powers that would allow her to obliterate him whenever she pleased. This is where the team working on this project attempt to provide their own alternate possibilities as to why this happened in a way that would make more sense than what we were given in the canon story in which she simply had a severe case of Stockholm Syndrome and couldn't let him go no matter how much he made her suffer.

So what are these new possibilities? They come in the form of a question, so their validity is not made absolutely certain, but they're presented as the most likely candidates nonetheless.

According to Zeke, she was unable to separate her own desires from King Fritz and was a lost girl who sought meaning. A place to belong. Tragically, King Fritz was the only connection she had in her life, so she clung to it with everything she had despite it being toxic and abusive. I could argue that these are the very reasons why she supposedly loved the king in the official manga, as explained by Eren in 139, but they weren't explained or touched on as plainly as they were here. I feel like they could have been if Isayama had just been given more time, but sadly the whole thing was rushed and underdeveloped.

Moving on, Zeke states that despite his efforts in trying to understand Ymir and her feelings, it was Eren who ultimately was able to get to her and offer her the choice of freedom. The next page transitions to young Eren standing in the clouds with his arms spread out and a smile on his face just like in the official 137, only this time 19yo Eren is next to him. Now I'm going to be honest here, this is where things started to get a little corny for me. Yeah. I know a lot of people hate that argument, but that's just how it felt to me. And before I say anything else, I want everybody to know that I am in no way about to mock anyone's fondness of this Eren over the one we saw in 139, even if it was a little over-the-top. It's perfectly fine to prefer one over the other, I'm just going to try to explain myself the best I can without coming across as harsh or unprofessional.

Eren is drawn in these panels to be a stone-faced, determined and unstoppable force who will "keep moving forward until his enemies are destroyed." This is the Eren that many people grew most familiar with throughout the series, despite his occasional breakdowns, but something about the way it was executed just felt a little too overdramatic and exaggerated. For me, the contrast between this Eren and the Eren we were presented with in 139 is too jarring. It came across to me as the fandom's idealized version of Eren, the "chad" Eren if you will, rather than Isayama's portrayal of Eren who is cold and determined, but has also been experiencing stunted mental growth ever since the day he saw his mother get eaten; side note: I know that Eren himself was responsible for his mother's death, but that's a discussion for a later time. Not only that, but the "keep moving forward" line starts to get overused at this point. We already heard Eren say this a number of times before 137 where this first fanmade chapter takes place, so I didn't find it necessary to include that at the end, but it seemed to be the writers' way of trying to reinforce Eren's ultimate goal.

Regarding the rest of the chapter, young Eren asks older Eren what Ymir is still waiting for after he showed her that she's not alone. 19yo Eren proceeds to explain that while he was able to make her feel something again, she still needs somebody to free her. He shows his younger self all of the visions from PATHS that he's seen so far, ranging from past events to alternate realities to things that couldn't be changed no matter what. Now there is only one path left that he strives toward. The one that he believes will grant him and his people freedom. This next line is the one that stood out to me the most throughout this fanmade chapter. Still talking to kid Eren, adult Eren says, "When you wake up, you will forget what you learned, but not what you felt here. This will all feel just like a long dream." Only when he kisses Historia's hand will it all come back to him. This line more clearly explains why Eren woke up crying in chapter 1, but couldn't remember why. Then he circles back to how he intends to carry out his own plan to end the cycle of hatred once and for all. Despite his efforts along the way, he couldn't change the flow of PATHS and save the friends he lost or prevent certain events from happening altogether, so he had to accept that sacrifices had to be made. In this case, he will have to literally sacrifice the world, much to Armin's horror.

To wrap this up, I'm going to finish comparing this to the canon 137, but since the first part of this project only covers the PATHS portion of it, that's where I'll stop as well. To save a little but of time, I'm just gonna be lazy and copy the first part of a quick overview of the chapter I found as part of the wiki:

So clearly, canon 137 starts off focusing a lot more on Armin and Zeke's differing philosophies and does not provide any further insight into Eren's ultimate motives like this one does, at least not yet. Armin and Eren are bound to face off soon in this fanmade version, but it looks to me like this time the writers are planning on flipping the outcome and having Eren come out victorious instead, especially when I remember the name of this project and what it's based on. I guess that means that in a way, I already know what's ultimately going to happen throughout the rest of this project. Whether it's going to be considered superior to the actual ending is going to depend on if its executed properly. I could very well be wrong about some of this, though. I want to give it a fair shot since these people have clearly put a lot of hard work and passion into this, so I will refrain from further judgement until we get the full picture. On a side note, I just want to say that the artwork is beautiful so far and I commend every artist responsible for their efforts. I also liked the song choice at the beginning and thought it set the mood pretty well.

Thank you to everyone who read the whole thing. This took me far longer to write than it should have because I'm not always good at expressing myself in a way that does not come across as confusing or contradictory. I will continue to share my thoughts as more content is released, which by the looks of it could be any day now.

#snk #aot no requiem #snk fanfiction #snk manga #snk 137 #armin arlert #zeke jaeger #eren jaeger #ymir fritz

[animebw]

Honestly Brook is a little socially off. Unlike Sanji who's is kinda women-obssessed,Brook tends to mostly say it cause he has less social graces then Luffy and seems to use it to break the ice.

Now out of universe it's a stupid joke that should die, and to be fair Brook does lessen it in the future.

Re-reading One Piece along side you is a trip, especially when comparing your analysis to mine.

Ive come to realize I'm far more jaded when it comes to anime humor, so much so that I just except it as part of the medium. So much so I mostly just focus on the jokes that are more creative, and the other apsscts

You actively hold it to a higher standard while still treating the story as slightly separate from the comedy. You want the comedy to be better, not resorting to cheap jokes. This is also true for all the aspects of the anime/manga, whether it's the art or the pacing

I guess that's why your the Anime Binge Watcher. Still fun to compare and contrast how I enjoy the medium, verses how you do.

I definitely have higher-than-normal standards for anime, yeah. But that's only because I've seen just how damn amazing this medium can be at its best. Gintama, Sangatsu, Evangelion, FMAB, Angel Beats, Yorimoi, Literally Everything KyoAni Has Ever Done... when anime creatives put their all into making anime the best that it can be, nothing even comes close. These stories are proof that you don't need to fall back on cliche. You don't need to settle for the laziest possible jokes. You don't need to include the worst of anime in order to make something worthwhile. It's possible to make a masterpiece without a single pervert character, or groping gag, or anything else in that general ballpark.

And yes, even some of those shows I mentioned have moments like that, and I consider those flaws just as much as I consider them in One Piece. But no one thinks FMAB is the peak of anime because of that one accidental pervert scene in episode 46. Nobody holds up Gintama as GOAT because of the running gag where Gintoki accidentally gropes Tsukuyo. K-On is not considered a beloved masterpiece because of season 1's Sawako Dress-Up jokes. In fact, I can't think of any anime or manga that are beloved because of these elements, and not in spite of them (aside from ecchi, where the fanservice is the whole point anyway). Like, would My Hero Academia have been any less successful if Mineta never existed? Has his inclusion ever been anything but a barrier to more people checking out and falling in love with this show? If so, I haven't seen it.

Honestly, I think it's that lack of necessity that makes this such a big deal for me. If we woke up tomorrow and every joke of this nature was scrubbed off the face of the earth, anime would easily carry on without missing a beat. The only thing that would change is that maybe now, even more people would start enjoying this medium now that they no longer have to navigate a minefield to do so. So it matters to me whenever an otherwise good anime or manga hurts itself with this kind of laziness. All you're doing is making it more difficult for people to like your stuff, Oda! The funny skeleton would not suddenly stop being funny if he could no longer ask to see girls' panties! If anything, he'd just be funnier! You don't need this shit! You're better off without it! Think, Mark, Think!

...man, this rant got away from me, lol.

TL:DR, I get compartmentalizing this kind of comedy as "just part of the medium," and if that helps you enjoy the good stuff better, then more power to you. God knows, I wish I could do the same sometimes. But as long as anime keeps doing this stuff, I'll keep complaining about it, because I know this medium is capable of doing so much better.

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #tabw q+a #one piece #one piece manga

[officialleehadan]

Invention and Foundation

“Who taught you magic?”

Myk was mostly occupied with making their dinner, but she looked up when Calla spoke. Her friend was busy grinding herbs together. Mostly, she made potions, but tonight’s concoction was for the soup. They had eaten much better since meeting up. Myk kept them in meat, and Calla’s talent with herbs made sure their dinners were always well-seasoned.

That summed up their entire partnership, in fact. Myk had the basic skills to live comfortably on the road, and Calla didn’t, but Calla had all the little tricks and tips that made Myk’s basics shine. She was inventive, and Myk gave her a solid foundation to build on.

Even if they hadn’t become fast friends, that might have been enough to keep traveling together.

“My mother, mostly,” Myk said with many fond memories overlapping into a single, wonderful whole. Mother love magic, and Papa was never afraid of them when they practiced. It made for a peaceful sort of learning, and Myk came out of it with a solid, comfortable knowledge of her own power. “Some of the other mages around taught a bit of this and that, but Mother’s magic and mine are very similar. How about you?”

The question was something of a risk. Calla rarely spoke about her family, and generally shied away from details. Myk didn’t push her. There was a lot of pain hidden under Calla’s perfected serenity, and Myk didn’t want to add to it.

She knew something about difficult family history. Mother never spoke of her family. Not ever. Papa quietly pulled Myk aside when she was old enough to understand, and explained that Mother’s parents had been too afraid of Mother’s prophesy to be kind to her. Mother had bit them farewell when she left to learn magic, and never seen them again.

“My uncle. He’s a very fine battle mage. One of the finest that I know of, and he teaches at one of the mage schools far to the west.” Calla said much to Myk’s surprise. She hadn’t actually expected an answer, to be honest, and hadn’t planned to stay on the topic if Calla showed any discomfort with it. “And my mother, but my mother is a healer, and my talents never ran to her sort of magic.”

“She’s the one who taught you all about herbs?” Calla knew more about herbs than anyone Myk had ever known, including her own dear mother, who had been a green-witch before her own prophesy woke. “Your potions are much better than mine, you know.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Calla said with a faint, self-deprecating smile. She always got uncomfortable whenever anyone pointed out that she had done something well. Myk had started making a point of complimenting her whenever there was an opportunity. “You’re much faster to notice herbs I might have missed.”

“You’re talking down about yourself again,” Myk noted, and threw the end of a wild onion at her. It bounced off Calla’s forehead and earned her a scowl. It was much better than that sideways smile of hers. Scowls were genuine. “Stoppit. Anyway, so your uncle taught you? Father’s brother or mother’s?”

“It’s a bit of a complicated relationship,” Calla said, and threw the onion back at Myk. Her aim was good, abut Myk saw it coming and caught it out of the air. “He’s both, and neither. He and my father shared a prophesy, not blood, but my uncle is… ah, it’s complicated but he shares a little, distant blood with my mother. He taught her magic, too, even though he’s a battle-mage and she’s a healer.”

It was more information than Calla had ever willingly shared before, and Myk took it as a profound sign of trust, and determined not to make much of it. Calla was skittish, and it made her nervous to talk about anything personal. Probably, Myk thought that she was running from something. Knowing Calla’s prophesy as she did, she suspected that same family Calla spoke of so fondly had taken the whole business poorly.

Myk was just grateful that Mother and Papa took their own prophesy with several large grains of salt. They had taught Myk that prophesies were just words, and words depended on the person hearing them as much as they did the person saying them.

After all, There was more than one way to hold back darkness. Love, it turned out, did a much better job of it than death.

They had taught Myk to love first and hate second, and that sometimes love needed defending. Sometimes love needed someone to fight for it against all odds, even when the whole world protested. Even when everyone said that love was the foolish choice in the face of everything. Myk had taken the hardened steel of Papa’s will, and the snapping lightning of Mother’s power, and turned them into weapons against a world that refused to love the unusual.

After all, if the world had its way, Papa would have killed Mother, and Myk wouldn’t exist at all. She was living proof that love could triumph against the odds.

So really, she didn’t mind defending love. After all, if not her, than who would?

In Calla’s case, it seemed like love needed teaching, too. Calla was kind, and wonderful, and gentle, but someone had taught her to fear before she did anything else. That was no way to live.

That was alright though. Myk was sturdy, and she was determined. Giving up wasn’t something that came naturally to her.

“We should trade notes,” she decided as she added the rest of the chopped onion into their stew-pot and set the lid on top. Dinner cooking, she stood and stretched until there was a string of satisfying pops from her back. “Dinner will be a while. What do you say to slinging some magic around and seeing what else we can cook up?”

+++ Two Prophesies:

On the advice of her mother, Myk is wandering the world, and waiting for her prophesy to get around to kicking in. After all, no one knows better than her family that a prophesy isn’t set in stone.

Fortunes Crossed (Free on Patreon!)

On the Road (Subscriber-Only!)

Invention and Foundation (Free on Patreon!)

+++

More Stories!

+++

#LGBTQ+ #LGBTQ #lesbian #gay #gay gay gay #healthy relationships #queer #queer community #gay representation #lesbian representation #Write #writer #written #writing prompt #prompt #prompts #story #novel #fantastic #romance #romantic #love #spilled ink #spilled writing #spilled romance #spilled feelings #supernatural #writeblr #lee hadan #pretty

[girlgirlgirlnormal]

I want her to be mine Part 2

Kuina x OC (female OC)

word count: 3.6k

part 1

TW: Death; Niragi (Yes, I’m including Niragi as a trigger now, even though he is very ooc here and OC’s best friend); harrasment, sexual harrasment mention, bullying, gun play

The next morning Ino woke up before sunrise, Niragi was still sleeping as she got out of the bed. She slipped out of her nightgown and put on a nice red bikini and her shorts. She wouldn’t wear a shirt today. She wanted to show some skin for Kuina. She strapped on her thighholster with the knive and her hipholster with her handguns and quickly brushed through her hair.

She took the elevator to Kuinas floor and silently entered her room. The girl was still sleeping. She looked so pretty and peaceful. For a moment she considered letting her sleep, then she shrugged her shoulders and ripped open the curtains. Kuina groaned, pulling the covers over her head, making Ino chuckle. Kuina tensed up. Slowly uncovering her head and turning to Ino.

“What the fuck”, she whispered, sitting up.

“I told you I will find you”, Ino said laughing, “The early bird catches the worm, and you my pretty little princess”, she walked up to the bed cupping Kuinas cheek, “are the worm.”

Kuina looked up to her with shock widened eyes.

“Come on, princess. Get dressed”, Ino said, “I have plans for us.”

She waited infront of the door as Kuina was getting dressed. It didn’t take long for Kuina to step out of the room, dressed in her blue bikini.

“Great”, Ino said, taking Kuinas hand, and leading her to the elevator, “So, this is going to be really awkward if you don’t like girls”, she said, as they got off the elevator and walked the steps up to the roof, “But I prepared us breakfast.”

The last part sounded more like a question. She had sat up a little breakfast picknick on the middle of the rooftop. It looked cosy. She had given it her best. A white blanket was laid out and she had been to the kitchen and gotten fresh fruit, cheese, and bread. A bottle of some expensive champaign was sitting in the middle and she had even found two flutes.

Kuina observed the scene infront of her, then she turned to Ino.

“Why?”, she asked.

Ino shrugged, “You’re pretty. You seem intelligent. I like looking at you.”

Kuinas mouth was slightly open.

“What?”, she asked, with a confused look on her face.

“Oh”, Ino said, “You don’t like girls?”

“I do”, Kuina answered, still looking confused, “But why did you do this?”, she pointed to the blanket.

“I just said I like looking at you”, Ino answered, walking over to the blanket and sitting down.

“So, this is a date?”, Kuina asked surprised, taking a step towards the blanket, “I thought you’re with Niragi? Or that he at least kills everyone you dance with for some other reason.”

“He is my best friend”, Ino clarified, “and he has graciously agreed to let you live if you ever”, she paused a moment, “danced with me.”

“Glad to know that my live is not on the line”, Kuina laughed, sitting down on the blanket, “You’re not so bad to look at yourself.”

Ino smiled, filling the flutes with champagne and dropping a single strawberry in each before handing one to Kuina. She took the flute, her gaze fixated on Inos guns. Realizing that the guns were making Kuina uncomfortable she slowly unbuckled her holster and put it down infront of Kuina.

“You don’t have to be here if you’re uncomfortable”, she explained slowly, “If you stay, you can keep the guns as long as you’re here. I just want to talk to you.”

“About what?”, Kuina asked, slowly taking a sip of her champagne.

“I don’t know. I’m just assuming that I will like listening to you talking just as much as I like looking at you.”

Kuina smiled, “Is this me paying you back for yesterday?”, she asked.

“Yes, but you don’t need to stay”, Ino said, not wanting to gaslight her into having breakfast with her, “If you want to leave; I will count the debt as paid.”

Kuina took a slice of bread and a piece of cheese, “This looks good.”, she said, taking a bite of the cheese.

“I’m sorry that it isn’t a more traditional breakfast”, Ino apologized, “I don’t like eating hot stuff on warm days and it wouldn’t have paired well with the champagne. I really did my best to find this champagne – it was my parents favorite.”

“Its good”, Kuina said, taking another sip and examining the bottle, “looks expensive.”

“Thank god for the apocalypse. I didn’t have to pay for it”, Ino laughed, picking up a raspberry and popping it in her mouth.

“Do you miss your parents?”, Kuina asked, watching the bubbles in her champagne float up.

“Of course. We were”, she stopped, correcting herself, “are very close. This little bird never really left the nest”, she laughed, “I lived just around the corner from them after moving out and even worked at my father’s firm. We were basically together all day. It’s weird not to have them around all the time. That’s why Niragi is always with me. He is the only one who I know I can trust.”

Kuina was swirling her drink around in the flute, still watching the bubbles, “This has great bubbles”, she mumbled.

“Do you miss your parents?”

Kuina halted, “I miss my mother”, she answered, “She is in the hospital and needs my help to even relieve herself. That’s why I need to get back to the real world as soon as possible.”

Looking at her number, she sighed, “11 is not that far away, I guess”, she said, looking down at her own number, she was the number five. Five was better than eleven.

“What about your father?”, she asked, after a moment of silence.

“We don’t really talk”, Kuina answered, focusing back on her bread, “That’s nice bread.”

“I made it”, Ino said smiling, “I got up very early and I thought a breakfast at 4 in the morning would be overkill.”

“Wow, you really are an early bird”, Kuina laughed, “Do you always wake up so early?”

“No, I guess I was just a bit nervous.”

They went silent for a moment.

“How did you get the scar?”, Kuina asked one hand slowly extending her hand to her cheek before stopping, leaving her hand hanging in the air.

It was Inos turn to tense up. Her hand instinctively went to her collarbone where the scar was the reddest and thickest. It was a mess. She hated it. She hated it. She hated it. Grabbing her holsterbelt she stood up.

“Was nice talking to you”, she said, walking to the staircase.

“What?”, Kuina groaned, “No.”

Ino stopped, “No?”

“We’ll talk about something else”, Kuina said, “just don’t run away.”

“I was not running away”, Ino said one hand on the handle to the door.

“I think you are”, Kuina said, standing up and walking over to the other woman, “You don’t have to talk about it. Let’s talk about something else. How did you make this bread?”

“I made it according to my favorite recipe. It’s a wonder that I still remember it”, Ino laughed, “It’s a pretty easy recipe.”

Kuina was just about to open her mouth to praise the bread, as the door opened and Niragi stepped out on the roof.

He was casually lighting a cigarette, his gaze lazily taking in the two girls sitting on the blanket.

“You really are trying, huh?”, he asked, plopping down next to Ino and taking her champagne and gulping it all down.

“Hey”, Ino said, playfully hitting his arm, “That was mine.”

He didn’t react to that, he was watching Kuina. Inos guns were laid out infront of Kuina and the girl looked distraught.

“I wouldn’t have thought that that is your type”, he said, still watching Kuina, “I thought the kind of girl you like was more like Chrissy. She and Chrissy have nothing in common.”

“They’re both pretty and I think Kuina would not have a problem with hitting you if you’re being mean, just like Chrissy did”, Ino said, smiling at the thought of her ex-girlfriend.

“Who is Chrissy?”, Kuina asked.

“A total bimbo”, Niragi answered, “and her ex.”

“She is a bimbo who used her social media following to talk about misogyny, anti-capitalism and loving yourself”, Ino explained, “We broke up a year ago, I don’t know why Niragi is bringing her up now.”

“She is the last girl you dated”, Niragi shrugged, “and it has been all dicks before and after. I don’t have any other girls to compare her to. I really liked Chrissy.”

“Then don’t”, Ino said, shrugging, “Also, Chrissy would’ve punched you for comparing people the way you do.”

Rolling his eyes Niragi took a piece of bread and some butter. Ino grabbed his rifle, putting it on top of her own guns. Niragi groaned but didn’t say anything.

“Sooo”, Ino said, “Kuina, do you want to explore New Tokyo later?”

“I already have plans with Chishiya, maybe sometime else?”, Kuina hadn’t had a bite since Niragi arrived, she was just sitting there, watching them tensely.

Niragi scoffed, but Ino started talking before he had the chance to say something, “Sure, let me know whenever.”

“We don’t have time for that anyway”, Niragi said, pulling a piece of paper out of his pants pocket, “Aguni is sending us out to the city.”

Ino grabbed the paper and unfolded it. It was a list of things they needed. Mostly medicine and food.

“We should go to the company, we have most of the medical stuff there and I don’t believe anyone could’ve scavenged that”, Ino said, “Kuina, it was really nice to talk to you. Feel free to approach me anytime you want.”

With that she stood up, grabbed her holster and disappeared through the door. Sneaking another piece of bread Niragi followed her.

“Did you have to barge in like that?”, she asked Niragi, as he finally appeared next to her in the elevator, “I was trying to get to know her.”

“She is no Chrissy”, Niragi commented.

“Nobody is Chrissy. That doesn’t mean that Kuina is not just as nice and worth of loving.”

“You don’t know her.”

“That’s why I was trying to get to know her!”

They had arrived at her father’s old company. A tall glass building with the words Yamanaka Gaming written in bold letters over the door. Normally the words would glow, right now, without electricity it looked sad. Ino could feel a knot forming in her throat. She tried to ignore it, wrapping her arm in her jacket and punching the glass door a couple of times before it shattered into a million crystals.

“Come on”, she said, ducking into the building, “You take the infirmary on the 15th floor, I’ll go to the executive floor.”

“What do you think you’ll be able to cross off the list on the executive floor?”, Niragi asked with a grimace.

“If the beaches generators still work, that could mean that ours do too”, she announced.

“And what good will that do? Do you wan to continue making that game?”

She rolled her eyes. She had stayed awake day and night working on the game. She never got to finish it. She would never get to finish it.

“There’s some stuff I want to get”, she answered, “I`ll help you check the cafeteria after that.”

Niragi nodded. They had had personal belongings there. He and Ino and everyone in her family. He didn’t blame her that she wanted to retrieve some. He watched as she went behind the reception desk and started to fumble with something under the desk. The lights flickered on.

“See, the generator works”, she smiled, “we can even use the elevator.”

They didn’t spend much time in the company, having found the medicine, many packets of instant noodles and ramen, and some personal belongings, they left the building and drove with a fully packed car back to the beach. Ino smiled as she handed Niragi her fathers watch. It had belonged her grandfather before and she knew her parents would’ve laughed to give it to their son in law on their daughter’s wedding day. They had hoped for the longest time that Niragi would be that son in law. They had felt betrayed then they found out that Niragi would stay her best friend but neither of them was planning to marry the other.

“Really?”, he asked, taking the watch.

“It’s what they wanted”, Ino shrugged.

“Shouldn’t you give this to the love of your life?”

“You know how I feel, Niragi”, she said, watching the streets of Tokyo pass by, “I love you. I have never loved anyone as much as I love you. I just don’t love you the way my parents would’ve liked me to.”

She really did love him. He was her best friend. They had been together for a decade now. If she had believed in soulmates she would be sure that he was hers. The love she was feeling was not romantic. It was just love.

“I love you too”, he said, his voice solemn, “That’s why I don’t like the idea of you being with Kuina.”

Ino groaned, “If you continue bringing up the subject, I will get really mad. We were having a good time until you arrived.”

“But don’t you need someone you can have a good time with then I am with you?”, Niragi asked, “I had to break up with that girl because you didn’t like her.”

“She was a dick”, Ino groaned.

As they finally arrived back at the beach Ino simply exited the car, without taking anything but her personal belongings. The others would help Niragi get everything else inside.

She walked straight to her room and started unpacking. She had taken some clothes, some jewelry and a picture of her family. Smiling she placed the picture frame on her nightstand and grabbed the short pink dress she had taken. Chrissy had called that her bimbo dress. Its deep carmen cut didn’t leave much to the imagination and it barely reached the middle of her thighs. She took out the makeup supplies she had taken with her. Drawing on some dramatic winged eyeliner and coloring her lips red like blood, she put her black hair in a dark ponytail, admiring herself in the mirror. She looked great. She hoped Kuina would think the same. Putting on her sneakers, she made her way to the pool. All eyes were on her. The diamonds on her neck were sparkling in the light.

It didn’t take long for her to spot Kuina. She was sitting alone, her plastic cigarette between her lips like always. Ino didn’t want to approach her. She was afraid of coming on too strong. She had told Kuina to come to her. She would wait. She didn’t want the woman to feel trapped. She walked to the bar and ordered a Zombie, her favorite cocktail.

“What’s the occasion”, she heard a voice beside her.

She turned, seeing Last Boss waiting for his drink. The tattooed man was not smiling, but she had only seen him smile then he was getting excited about killing something or someone. It was a good thing that he was not smiling.

“I’m going to get laid”, she answered, making Last Boss quirk his brow.

“By whom?”

“Don’t know. We’ll see.”

Last Boss smirked, but he didn’t say anything else, took his drink and disappeared. Ino shrugged. Seems like it wouldn’t be him who fucked her tonight. She hated being so needy, but she really needed someone to spoil her. She was already on her third drink, as her eyes landed on Kuina again. No. She would not approach her. Kuinas gaze met hers. She watched her stand up and walk in her direction. She could feel her gut clench in anticipation. She wanted to get to know her. She wanted her to not be a mere one night stand. Yet she was so needy. God. All this neediness could only mean that she would get her period soon. She had looked for her birth control pills but couldn’t find them. Her hormones would kill her.

“Hey”, Kuina greeted her, as she sat down next to Ino.

“Hey”, Ino answered, taking a long sip from her cocktail. She loved the sweet and bitter taste. Her lips were already numb. She loved it.

“Why are you dressed like this?”, Kuina asked, her eyes scanning her body.

“You don’t like it?”, Ino answered with a question.

“No, it looks great”, Kuina answered, “Its just not something that I’ve seen you wear around here before.”

Ino laughed, “I used to wear stuff like that all the time. I loved partying so much that I had this dress in my office, for the times that I spontaneously decided to go out after a long day of work. I miss that so much.”

“You can party here all day”, Kuina informed her, taking in the womans beautiful features.

“Its not the same”, Ino said, “It was so much more fun back then. If you kissed a stranger in the club you could be sure that you would never see them again. If I kiss someone out here, Niragi makes sure no one ever sees them again.”

“But I am safe?”, Kuina asked.

Ino smiled, cupping Kuinas cheek, “You are safe and free to do whatever you please.”

“Whatever I please?”, Kuina echoed.

Ino nodded, her gaze fixated on Kuinas plumb lips. She wanted to kiss her. She wanted to please her and for her to please her back. Where did this obsession with Kuina even come from?

“Do you want me?”, Ino whispered, leaning in. She could smell the girl’s natural scent. She smelled sweet and spicy. She didn’t know what she was doing as her tongue dipped out of her mouth, slowly licking Kuinas jaw. She wanted her so much. Her smell was even more intoxicating then the alcohol.

“Will you be done with me if I give you what you want tonight?”, Kuinas voice was shaky.

Ino shook her head, “But I will leave you alone if you want. You don’t have to do anything. Just tell me if I’m bothering you.”

She wasn’t looking in Kuinas face, her head was still in the slightly tilted position she had taken to lick her jaw. Her smell was intoxicating. She bit her tongue to stop herself from licking her again.

“You’re not”, Kuina answered, “I just don’t understand why you are showing so much interest in me.”

“Because you are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Prettier than Chrissy?”, Kuina asked.

Ino chuckled, lightly kissing her throat, “You sound like Niragi”, she laughed, “I loved Chrissy, but we broke over a year ago. She was pretty. I don’t know how I would’ve have answered if I still were in love with her. But today”, she drawled off, this time kissing her jaw, “you are the prettiest girl I have ever seen.”

Ino looked up, Kuina had closed her eyes. It looked like she was enjoying the small kisses. Ino kissed up her jaw up to her ear, slowly taking her earlobe between her teeth.

“Tell me if you need me to stop”, she whispered.

Kuina shuddered, “You are drunk.”

“Mhm”, Ino said, sucking Kuinas earlobe.

“I want you to stop.”

Ino straightened up, trapping her own hands between her legs so she couldn’t reach out for the pretty woman. Kuina finally opened her eyes, looking at her.

“I don’t want to be your drunk fuck”, she said, with a stern look in her eyes, “If you really think that I am that pretty, you can wait, no?”

Ino nodded, “Until you’re ready.”

Kuina put a hand on Inos knee, “Good”, she said, “I need time. There are things that you don’t know about me and I don’t do one-night stands.”

Ino nodded again. She didn’t know if it were the hormones or the alcohol, but she was feeling so overwhelmed by this woman’s beauty. She wanted to touch her. To be touched by her.

“I will do everything for you”, she blurted out, “You just need to tell me what you want.”

Cupping Inos cheek, Kuina said, “You’re drunk. You should go to your room and sleep it off.”

Ino nodded, “Will you come with me?”

Kuina shook her head, “I’ve got stuff to do. I think it would be better if you were alone.”

Ino pouted. She had just told her she would do anything for her. Anything did include going to her room alone. She balled her hands into a fist for a moment. She just wished she wasn’t so horny.

Ino stood up and turned away without looking back or saying another word, she walked up to her room. She didn’t fully close her door, but she made sure that Niragi was already sleeping in his room. Undressing she laid down on her bed, gun in one hand, the other hand playing with her breasts. A soft moan escaped her lips. She brought the gun up to her face and slowly licked the tip. She could feel herself soaking. The hand that was previously on her breast slowly dipped between her legs, as she saw a silhouette in her doorway. She moaned again. Eyes glued on the door. She felt guilty for a moment, but Kuina had only told her to go to her room alone. Not to stay there alone. She switched her hands positions, tasting herself from her fingers and shoving the gun between her legs.

“As you said you were going to get laid, I thought were would be at least one other person involved”, she heard Last Boss voice.

Giggling she brought up the gun to her face again, licking it clean, “Join me”, she said seductively, “Please?”

She didn’t have to ask twice.

#hikari kuina #kuina #alice in borderland #kuina x reader #kuina x oc #wlw #chishiya #last boss #niragi #suguru niragi #niragi x reader