#bc shit like that really helps me figure out where you guys are at with taob and how you're finding it

[frankieunscripted]

My reasons to hate Drake

First things first, I'm the reales- wait, wrong theme. First of all, I would like to say this is NOT an unbiased recap, this is literally just me listing things I've hated about Drake for years. You might as well join in on the hate train. Go watch some YouTube video essays on this if you wanna know more!!! You'll find plentyyyy

Certified Pedophile ("allegedly"): Texting teen girls until they're of age and then go and date them. ew.

Cosplay Gangsta: disrespecting the culture as a whole, but especially what hiphop is about. Flexing money, cars, girls, drugs, clothes bc he never understood hiphop was never about flexing, but about being heard bc you're oppressed, about revolution. Now we got his die-hard fans running around acting like this is true rap. no. "You don't know nun bout dat!"

Culture Vulture: jumping from trend to trend in order to make it "his own", faking accents that he has no business playing with and dropping them as soon as he's done with this specific type of genre bc it's not trendy anymore. Adapting whole "personas" around this, instead of just merely collabing with other artists. Jamaican and African accents are just 2 examples here.

Blackness: Drake never really got out of his acting career. Back on DeGrassi he was acting as a high school jock. Now he's acting like a tough black guy who's from the streets and knows what it's like to be down bad, when this was never his life. Lil Wayne warned him to never change and act tough just bc he would sign to Weezy's label where the rappers were predominantly "gangsta type dudes". And what did Drizzy do? He's acting all tough and "outta dem streets". He's clearly overcompensating for not feeling black enough (I've already reblogged 2 posts about this, pls see these for further context). Drake's mad for not being referred to as a rapper who speaks on being black, when in reality the black experience was never of topic in any of his songs. He also doesn't give back to the community.

Lil Wayne: Drake had relations with fellow rapper Lil Wayne's gf (she actually was of age, ayoooo!) while Wayne was away in prison. Wayne got word of the fact his gf was cheating on him with the young guy he signed under his label and was pissed. Drake, in an effort to smooth out the situation, got Wayne's face tattooed on his arm. Say what you will about portrait tattoos, but this story is just so fucking typical Drake. How the fuck do you think this is gonna help anyone?

Validation: Drake donates money in the music video for God's Plan, only to earn more money with that video/song than he donated in the first place. He felt good about donating and then never did that shit again.

Numbers: As a great man once said: "Crack fiends bought 10 million rocks, that don't mean it's good. It don't mean nothing." (As you can imagine, that man was 2Pac). And with that I say that proving your worth in the industry by numbers don't mean a lot. It means you and your team figured out the market and started producing stupid, vapid, but terribly long albums to maximize streaming numbers, automatically bumping up your place in the industry. This is about quantity, not quality - good rap/ hiphop was never about that. Drake actively validates his music and status with his fame, money and streams and neither him nor his fans seem to get that says nothing about the artistic value of his music. "Numbers lie too, fuck your pride, too!" (I mean really, Baby Shark has 14 Billion views on YouTube - you think that's REAL artistry, Mister Aubrey?)

Cocky Ass Bitch: I would be okay with a lot of his music if Drake just knew his fucking place. He went pop ages ago, but still people (including himself) refer to him as a rapper - no even, as THE rapper, placing him in the Top 3. Sometimes I feel like y'all do this, just to piss me off personally. Apart from everything else wrong with Drake, there's nothing wrong with liking music like his persé. Not everyone likes conscious/ deep stuff and sometimes, when you with the homies, you just wanna chill and listen to something "mindless" - MIND you, I'm not looking down on "non-conscious" rap, I'm just saying not every artist has to be woke/ deep all the time and some "empty" party anthem about girls, fashion, cars and alcoholism is fun at times. These party anthems deserve their place. And a child actor turned rapper turned POP STAR is valid in my books - just not if it's Drake. Apropos cockiness: The dude compares himself multiple times to Michael Jackson and while that got a few good lines out of him, I believe it's close to fucking blasphemy. Drake and MJ on the same pedastal. I mean sure, questionable stuff happening with kids, both of them wildly successful in their industry (mind you, streaming like today wasn't around back then and many of the numbers cannot be compared), but one of them a real talent and the other one some guy who more or less made it as an industry plant. "I can dance like Michael Jackson? / I'd argue your skills really lack, son!" (okay sorry, I know, that was corny as fuck xD) Dude is flexing with numbers instead of poetic abilities -

About the art itself:

Ghostwriters: "What poetic abilities?", I hear you ask - Yeah, don't think I forgot! Best believe I been cooking this one. There's evidence for Drake having ghostwriters - which on its own is fine, don't believe every star writes every single bar on their own. My problem with this is, that Drake keeps his cocky attitude, even though many of his hits aren't really Aubrey-written and also many ghostwriters never get their credit (this is why they're called "ghostwriters", I know that this is not something specific to Drake, but slapping one more name on the credits ain't that hard, when you're worth a billion bucks already). This is the rap equivalent of flexing your homework when you know DAMN WELL copied it off of your best friend and did nothing for that success. I guess his song Right Hand wasn't about a romantic interested after all, but the dudes who been writing it!

STOLEN SHIT: Why in hell is no one mentioning this on here? Drake is KNOWN for stealing other artists' verse metres (referred to as "flows", y'all tumblr, idk how much you guys do know, okay?), melodies, whole beats, samples or verses in general. In no other studio would you see mentions of a "reference track" concerning songwriting. They take a song as reference and build around it as they construct a beat. There's PLENTY of evidence for this happening, one story really had me baffled, where a young indie-rapper met Drake in the early 2010s, gave him his CD to listen to and a whopping 5 years later the indie-rapper realizes Drake just fucking stole his entire song (a really personal one at that) on his latest album back then. Being indie, of course the guy had little to no means of fighting back with lawyers or anything, man's was working a 9to5 job and had other stuff going on. Before you wanna argue with me though: YES. There is a difference between stealing and paying hommage. One famous example is Drake biting Eminem's Superman flow on Chicago Freestyle: "But I do know one thing though/ Bitches, they come, they go/ Saturday through Sunday, Monday / Monday through Sunday, yo/ Maybe I'll love you one day/ Maybe we'll someday grow". The only good thing Drake ever did was changing Em's "Bitches" to "Women" on his song. Other than that: exact same few bars. This is a hommage. Why? Because Eminem, that's why. You can pay hommage to great, well-known artists with good bars. It takes a common ground of knowledge from artist to audience to make a hommage like this work. That can go well. Kendrick copies the flow of a Kanye West song on HiiiPower and it works just fine because you listen to either of the song and think: "Ah yeah exactly, that one part, okay, I see you." You don't pay hommage to a small, unknown, indie-rapper by copying his whole verse about his Mom, when you would never say stuff like that on your records before. You don't, because it wouldn't work. None of your listeners would understand the innuendo at all, because no one ever heard of the "great guy you'd be paying hommage to". So shut up.

Music: It's just not that good. Like yeah, he had a few bangers, but let's not exaggerate. Artistically Drake does not offer anything. If he ever did, he probably left all of that on the first few albums he still rapped on. His delivery sucks, his singing voice sounds like he's tryna be The Weeknd at times but isn't. The lyrics aren't special. What the fuck?

Euphoria: Even before getting deeper into hiphop, I've always hated the way Drake presents himself. When Kendrick said: "I hate the way that you walk, talk, dress" I felt that. I hate the way he "raps", the way he drags his words, the way he laughs, the way he "sings". Just a whole lotta shit I dislike about the guy.

Sneak Dissing: If you want beef then get in line, don't just kinda allude to it, you weak ass bitch

SENSITIVE ASS BITCH: I love a man who's in tune with his feelings but Drake being the cosplaying gangsta clown he is, acts like he's all tough when in reality, you can't really say shit to him, cause he "can't let this shit slide, ay".

Kendrick's Control Verse drops - a verse calling out multiple rappers saying Kendrick will come for them in friendly competition for the crown of being the best. Drake was mentioned. Everyone thinks it's kinda cool and goes along. Drake is mad. In an interview he basically said he found it fake because the next time he saw Kendrick "it was all love" and that he wanted it "to be real. Let it be real then". Okay crodie, next time you get called out in a fair rap competition, best believe I'll sock you in your fucking throat, I gotchu.

The Weeknd doesn't sign to Drake's label OVO after working with Drake for a while. Drake is mad again and feels betrayed. Why you gotta be like this?

Kendrick says that he doesn't wanna collab with Drake because their music is too different, not because of anything personal. He just doesn't see it happen in the near future because it would not match artistically. Drake gets mad.

Drake stopped beefing with Pusha T back in the day. Probably because he exposed his son. But still, if you want beef, then clean up your plate, bc you eat what you order and dont't just start to "let this shit slide, ay"

("allegedly") being involved in XXXTentacion's passing back in 2018 over beef. This beef started because of the flow of X's popular song Look at Me!, which Drake stole shortly after letting X know his management would contact him about a possible collab. As you can imagine, X was never contacted by Drake's people. The kid was 20 years old, man. He said some outrageous shit at times, but no one deserves to go out like he did.

Also, the famous DMX ("Y'all gon make me lose my mind!") once said in an interview that he'd like to punch Drake in the face and I support that. Kendrick and his homies laughed at the clip - as did everybody else, cause it's hilarious if a beast and a legend of hiphop hates Drake. Drake was mad at Kendrick laughing about it and not taking it seriously. What did he expect? Should Kendrick have went after DMX and made him apologize for what he said about lil Aubrey? How old are you? 5?

Drake gets mad at a lot of shit - bottom line. I could go on and on, but I've been writing this for hours, it's half past 3 am and I wanna sleep after uni and work, y'all.

DURING THE DISS-ERTATION: this section is about shit Drake did during the beef with Kendrick.

Saying Kendrick's Like That verse was weak af. That's your core response? Someone flames you and people are already throwing ass to the mere sound of it and you think: "Huh, that sucked anyway." Pathetic.

Calling Kendrick short (over and over and over again) as if his height is under his control/ his fault? - as if that takes way from Kendrick's skill, Kendrick's allegations againt Drake! - as if that means ANYTHING AT ALL to people over the age of like... 12?

Going after anybody's family in the first place. I know nothing is really "off-limits" in a rap battle like this, but please have the fucking decency. Don't mention my Momma, my kids, my dog, my fam, my friends who ain't got nothing to do with the fact that I hate you. I will say I am not proud of Kendrick for getting down on that level himself - but I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy Meet The Grahams and the sheer panic it induced. And sometimes I gotta be a little childish and yell "But Aubrey started ittt!"

Hitting on Whitney in The Heart Part 6. Don't go for another man's treasure, you absolute dog. Accusing Whitney of being unfaithful. My friend, this beef is about us (the Culture) hating you and the things you do. Stop trying to shift this into something it is not.

Reacting to diss tracks via instagram stories and memes, like he's that one popular girl in 7th grade who's gotta clap back to something someone said in school on her IG. Shut up.

Calling The Weeknd and his manager gay. Are we not over homophobia yet? Being queer is not an insult. Also falsely "accusing" people of being gay is uncool as fuck - but oh "You don't know nun bout dat!" bc false accusations are basically everything you do - and also possibly outing someone like that is fucking hurtful as shit. I know the people involved are probably not queer at all, but if they were - period.

Using AI in a song at all. Drake, you already proved you suck. Don't force it down our throats. What part of you thought it would make you look good? What part said it would be good to do in a diss track, when the world knows diss tracks are even more a show of capability than other songs. Nah, you go and use AI. Idc about your "mind games": Using AI Snoop Dogg is just weird as fuck cause the Doggy is still well and alive - if you want him to feature on your song, call the legend and ask hi- oh wait, you knew he woulda said "Aww hell nah!" cause everyone hates you? Huh. Snoop probably woke up one day, hit a blunt and asked "When the FUCK did I collab with Drake?". Anyway, using AI 2Pac is straight up disrespectful, when you know damn well the guy would've hated you if he knew who you'd become. Just doing this because it's 2Pac, because you can and not even asking for permission of Pac's people is crazy. Glad the shit was taken down anyways.

The 8 Mile "Airing Out Your Dirty Laundry"-Trick before the big battle does NOT invalidate future claims on you diddling kids. No. Not even if 2Pac says it first. Nah.

His Damage Control Effort in post to make it seem like/make us believe that he's in control, when Kendrick has been bodying him is hilariously embarrassing. Anyone can claim the mole was fake "all along" after it happened.

Making fun of Kendrick for his verse on Taylor Swift's Bad Blood is just stupid. Look at all the features Drake does. Rihanna, BadBunny, DJ Khaled, Future, PartyNextDoor, Lil Wayne, Diddy, Nicki Minaj, Wizkid, ..... the list is so fucking long (I'm just picking at random songs at this point, cause I do not want my browser/spotify history to be associated with Drake's music. I don't wanna go out of my way to say he NEEDS these people to stay relevant but let's face it: His discography and his success would be different if it weren't for them

Acting like he's so great for "finally making Kendrick rap again" - Sir, you don't write your shit on your own, stfu. You don't invest time and effort into your vapid albums. YOU should be thankful for Kendrick destryoing you, giving us the best few lines out of you in a long time.

Not addressing important shit. We been over the allegations, I will not repeat them in this post cause this is already long enough. BUT y'all on the same page as me, aight? Instead of addressing EVERYTHING, he just responds with diss tracks that aren't terrible but really not THAT good, yk? Not going into the shit that we want to se addressed.

Acting like disstracks need replay value. Idk if this is a Drake or a fanbase problem, but people really act like Drake's tracks were better, bc you can listen to them more casually. "Kendrick basically made a whole song about Drake" - THIS IS WHAT A DISS TRACK SHOULD BE! Notice how we don't call every song containing a diss immediately a "diss track"? That's why. Diss tracks were meant to hit your opponent in the stomach with witty bars, double entendres, nice delivery and good production. Diss tracks weren't meant to be club bangers - bonus if they do end up being some though, looking at you, Like That and Not Like Us.

Not reading into stuff properly or just not listening. This is a small one, but ngl I hate the fact they got the Mother I Sober reference wrong (The song is NOT about Kendrick being abused, BUT about Kendrick not being abused and his Mom NOT believing him and passing her sa trauma onto him, even though he didn't experience that). Also Kendrick explicitly says "DOT, the money, power, respect / The last one is better" on Like That and Drakes response (again) is "Huh, I have way more money than you and in the industry, I'm way more powerful than you. Also, you so short tihhihi." BITCH he SAID respect was the most important of the three and you disrespect him, not by calling him out by his wrong doings but by picking on physical features the man cannot change like a 5th grade bully.

Anyways. phew. If you made it this far... wow. I'm impressed. I'll keep updating this. Thanks for coming to my beef talk.

EDIT: Thank y'all for the positive reactions on this post. If you seek more info/ want me to further explain stuff/ have even more dirt on Drake, let me know and we can work something out. -Frankie out

#reasons I BEEN hating Drake #drake diss #kendrick lamar #hiphop #culture #community #aubrey graham suxx #hate #rap #I'm beefin #(not yet) everything I hate you you #like that #the hear part 6 #chicago freestyle #superman #hiiipower #shut up frankie #rant #Not like us #euphoria #push ups #drake

[aliaology]

COACH

summary: reader is a single mother who just signed her son up for hockey! who knew that number eighty-six of the new jersey devils would help coach alongside his teammates.

pairings: jack hughes x fem!reader

warnings: talks of teen pregnancy if that counts…? talks of sex and birth control. SO MUCH FLUFF BC I THINK JACK WOULD BE GREAT WITH LIL KIDS.

being pregnant at eighteen was not what you expected. no, it was actually nowhere near your list of “what will i do when im eighteen.” of course, you tried to figure out where you went wrong. thats when it hit you, you forgot to take your birth control that entire week, and your now ex-boyfriend was so sure you would still be fine because you took it a few days before.

how wrong he was. and he fled quickly too.

now you sat in the small bleachers of a local rink, helping your son get his skates tied. the five year old gave a goofy grin as he saw some of his friends from school or from the same apartment complex as you.

“you ready to go, baby?” you ask him with a smile, patting his leg as you helped him stand on the skates.

“uh huh!” he smiled widely.

“okay, lets go lovie, one of the coaches will be paired with you and helping you, okay?” you told him, bending down to his height. he gave a toothy grin.

“okay mama!” you smiled and held his hand as you brought him over to the opening of the rink. a few kids were in front of you two, getting paired with one of the older males.

you learned that it was the new jersey devils, their team came to help the little ones. you smiled at your son as you guys got to the opening. number eighty six awaited for your son.

jack lifted his gaze from his hands to you and your son. his breath hitched as he saw your face. you were pretty. really pretty.

he stuck his hand out, “hi im jack— jack hughes” he smiled.

you grabbed his hand, shaking it slightly. “its nice to meet you, im y/n.” you grin. you then look at your son, so does jack.

jack crouches down. “and whats your name little bud?” he asked.

“connor!” your son smiled.

“well connor, you ready to play some hockey?” jack grinned. your son nodded excitedly and grabbed onto jacks arm.

jack took your son out onto the ice as you sat down back on the bleachers. you crossed your legs and placed your head onto your hand as you watched your son excitedly practice with number 86.

jack hughes was attractive, you knew that for sure. but the way he was so gentle with your son, holy shit you felt like it was love at first sight. of course, it wasn’t, but this very attractive man was being amazing to your son. who would not want that?

you watched as he helped your son skate around. he helped connor hold his stick properly, helped him hit the puck. though— you couldn’t help but laugh when connor slipped and fell straight on his butt. jack seemed to also find it funny as he slapped a hand over his mouth while helping connor up.

you also watched as jack would sneak glances at you every so often. you had to say it made you feel flustered when you caught him.

after about two hours, the small practice came to and end. parents took photos with some of the devils, kids got their stuff put back in bags, but your son, he was attached to jack’s hip. he would not leave jack alone,

jack needed to take a picture with a fan? connor would wait patiently for him. jack had to go back to the players box for his stuff? connor was following. jack was walking towards you? well, connor was in his arms.

“little man here seems to like me, i think” jack spoke with a smile.

you let out a small laugh as the now tired kid had rested his head against jacks shoulder.

“i think so too, im sorry about him being all over you. he doesn’t get attached easily so this is somewhat new.” you spoke softly.

you grabbed the helmet from jacks grasp, putting it in your son’s hockey bag. “its no problem at all, really. hes a cutie, and one hell of a fast learner.” jack gushed.

you smiled, turning to your son who rubbed his eyes. “ready to go home, baby?” you asked, hands out so he could go to you.

“no! i want to stay with jack” he pouted, turning his head away.

you sighed softly. “im sorry jack.” you told.

“its okay, promise. here, ill hold him so you can take his gear off and then i can carry him to your car? does that sound okay?” jack asked.

you nod as you smile. “sounds perfect.”

jack sat down, holding connor. you gently took of his gear, even if it was a struggle that connor wouldn’t even move from jack’s shoulder. once you got it all in his bag, including his skates, you zipped it up and slung it over your shoulder.

you and jack walked in silence as connor had fallen asleep on jacks shoulder. once you got to your car, you put connor’s bag in the back as jack gently placed him in his car seat.

you turn to him. “thank you for this, it means a lot to me.” you told him.

“couldn’t resist. the kids a cutie and hes got spunk. not to mention his mom is really pretty too.” jack told, smiling at you.

his face then dropped. “i mean unless you have a boyfriend— i totally didn’t say that.” he stuttered.

you laughed lightly, “i dont, thank you” you muttered.

jack’s cheeks went pink. “i uh— can i get your number by any chance?” he asks.

“will you be here next practice?” you question. jack nods. “team will be here for all except when we have roadies.” jack explained.

you nod. “you can have it next practice.” you smile and go to your side of the car. “thank you again, jack.”

“no.. problem” he spoke slowly. he watched you drive away. he barely knew you but you had him wrapped around your pretty little finger.

hes so cutie

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #new jersey devils #new jersey #nhl imagine #nhl #hockey #86 eighty six #86

[moonlit-imagines]

No One’s Sidekick

Jason Todd x teen!reader

warnings: needles and guns and death mentions ya know

a/n: ok i was gonna do headcanons for this but honestly it sparked a lot of inspiration so im actually writing a oneshot for it this is a ONE IN A MILLION CHANCE bc im very picky about when to write oneshots ily. might do hcs also just cuz arkham knight is my passion. (honestly i should have just done hcs idk if i like where i went with this LMAO)

prompt: anonymous: “hi idk if you write Arkham Jason Todd but if if you do is it possible if you can do a Arkham Jason Todd x fem teen reader and reader is his sidekick”

Imagine a life where you had nothing, you were the lowest anyone could go, and you were just a kid. Now imagine that there was someone standing in front of you, telling that same story, and offering you a chance to turn it all around because they knew how it felt to be you.

That someone was Jason Todd. You found each other by chance, somewhere in the Gotham slums. He walked past you down a dimly lit alley full of used needles and rotting trash, noticing a kid just a few years younger hiding from the world. You noticed a guy in a hoodie hiding a nasty scar on his cheek.

He reached out a hand, hoping you’d take it. He saw a look in your eyes that you’d been like this a while. And you might have noticed the same in his. Which is why after trusting nobody for years, you took this stranger’s hand. “I remember when I was a kid waiting in shitty places woth the hope someday it’d change. And it did one day. Someone found me and changed my life.” He explained after buying you a burger and fries.

“Was it for the better?” You asked him with a mouthful of food.

“I don’t know anymore.” He looked shaken himself, and you could tell by the bags under his eyes this may have been a subject that kept him up at night, maybe took up his waking moments, too. “How long have you been alone?”

“Practically forever. Every once in a while I felt like I was on steady ground and then…something always happens.” You sighed, taking a sip of your soda. “But I learned how to get by on my own. I had to. And I have to protect myself.” Jason raised a brow.

“You protect yourself yet you’re willing to go off with a stranger?” He asked, giving you a warm smile.

“Jason, right?” He nodded at the question. “Jason Todd?” His expression dropped. Before he could stammer out a response, you leaned back on your side of the booth and said, “everyone around here knows you one way or another, but everyone thought you were dead after you disappeared.”

“Did you know who I was when you came here with me?” Jason spoke lowly.

“Nope.” You flatly responded. “But I figured it out along the way. You used to live in my building when I was a kid, I knew I recognized you from somewhere.”

“3B?” He asked.

“That’s the one. You remember?” You smiled.

“I remember a scared little kid with dirt all over their face no matter what time of day.” You both chuckled. “Wow, it’s been a long time. I guess I’m glad we ran into each other.”

“It’s nice. I just don’t know where to go from here.” You took the last few bites from your meal, averting your eyes from his gaze, nervous for what was to come, but also hopeful. At this point, you didn’t care what you did or where you went, as long as you had some kind of purpose. Spending your youth in sleeping in wet boxes or crashing on a sunken-in, stained couch was no longer something you could stand doing.

“I had an idea. A while ago. But I just didn’t know how to go about it.” He revealed with a long pause, mustering up better details to share. “I dont know. It sounds crazy, but maybe not anymore.”

“Can you get to the point?” You tilted your head, eager for a bit more.

“Yeah, yeah…” He gulped. “I talked to this guy, it was after some really bad shit went down,” he brushed his scarred cheek, “this high-profile assassin wanted to train me—work with me. There are some demons I have to face, but I need some help to get ready.” You stared blankly for a minute, fingernail scratching the tabletop as you thought about his words. “It’s out of the country, somewhere in South America.”

“You’re crazy.” You stated. “I’m in.” Jason’s eyes widened. “Anything to get me out of Gotham. And you’re Jason Todd, I’d trust you with my life, even after all this time.” His expression softened and he kind of chuckled, in disbelief of you and himself.

“I—I guess I gotta go make a call.” Jason knocked his hand on the table. “Go ahead and order dessert, I’ll be back in a few.” He stepped out the front door and opened his phone, scrolling down to a contact labeled “S. Wilson.” It rang twice. “I’m in, and one more will be joining us.”

“I’ll make the arrangements for your travels, stay on the line.” Said Slade, there were faint keyboard clicks. “I have a private jet that awaits you at eight a.m. tomorrow. I will send you the address, don’t be late.” The phonecall ended abruptly and Jason went back to your table, finding you eating a slice of pie.

“Tomorrow morning we get to fly in a private jet.” Jason saw your face light up. “Never been?”

—————

Venezuela was incredible to you, even if it was a bit more humid than you were used to. On the plane ride, Jason told you everything. He didn’t spare one detail, he didn’t care. You were another Gotham City orphan with a dark past and a bright future. You two were ready for anything.

It was grueling. It was incredible. It was nothing you’d experienced before. Which was terrifying. But invigorating. You could tell Jason felt right back in his element, but you were desperately trying to catch up. He’d had much training before this, relevant to the current situation. You’re training went as far as standard Gotham Slums scuffling. Your skills included switchblade maneuvers, aiming for the crotch, running from trouble and climbing from trouble. Nothing like this ever seemed possible for you. But Jason knew what it felt like to be brought from your level to his. And as Deathstroke brought Jason to his level, he’d make sure you’d catch up.

—————

“I think you two are ready.” Slade announced as both of you stood before him. Straight backs, eyes forward, and arms behind your backs. “The plan is to be enacted soon, and you,” he turned his attention to Jason, “it’s up to you what we do from here. Gotham City finally meets its match?” He suggested. Jason nodded his head once and you followed. And so it began, the planning phase.

—————

You looked at Gotham from down below. Smaller than you remembered. The whirring of the helicopter blades lulled you away from reality for a few moments before Jason tapped you, motioning for you to come up front with him. You slid your headset on and heard him begin barking orders at the militia before setting your comms to private. “How’s it feel?” Jason asked you.

“I don’t know, actually.” You replied, doing a final check to make sure your guns were loaded and secured. “What about you?”

“It feels like I’m finally getting my revenge.” His voice modulator sent a chill down your spine and you soon landed in Gotham. The plan went off without a hitch. Gotham evacuated, scum running loose, Batman distracted, and his allies scattered. It was exciting, but something was off. Scarecrow’s plan didn’t sit well with you. It was gruesome, even to you. You never really cared about anyone but yourself, but as Jason lost his humanity, you gained it. “I’ve got your back, y/n. You got mine?”

“Always, Knight.” He chuckled as the chopper began to descend. “Let’s kill the Batman.”

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @deanzboyfriend //

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #arkham knight x reader #arkham knight imagine #arkham knight #batman arkham knight #dc comics #dc comics x reader #dc comics imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood imagine

[grippingbeskar]

cutting it close | the mandalorian

mando x fem!reader

word count: 11.4k

warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (oral f receiving, mxf intercourse) swearing, canon typical violence, din clubbing deserves its own warning guys.

a/n: a labour of true love. i wrote half of this so long ago, but was inspired by an incredible source to continue.we are really living up the the user name in this one bc WE ARE GRIPPING BESKAR FOR REAL. shoutout to @everybirdfellsilent​ for being the BEST person to bounce ideas off, catching all of my grammar errors (there were many) and helping me figure out how someone whispers in a helmet. you are a real one and i love you!!!!! okay enjoy goodbye. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you sure he’s in there?” You ask the Mandalorian, who even through his helmet looks as uncomfortable as you are. He just holds up the tracking fob and it beeps rapidly, hardly making a sound over the thumping of the bass in the club in front of you.

“Guess so.” He yells over the sound. If you can barely hear him out here, you don't even want to imagine what it's like inside. The sound vibrates through the concrete and you can hear the high pitched sound of girls singing somewhere in the back, blue and red lights flicking out underneath the door you both stand in front of.

“I’ll go. You can wait out here. Your shiny head’s gonna reflect the light too much and give me a headache.” You go to take the tracker from him but he yanks it away. Rolling your eyes, he just leans and opens the door for you, and there's no point in arguing as you walk inside, the music instantly flooding your senses.

You have been helping Mando track down a couple of syndicate members while he was out on Corellia, promising to share the credits and take you off the planet if you showed him where they might be hiding. You have no loyalties here, and if you could get a free ride while also making those assholes pay for all the people they’ve fucked over, then you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t enjoy it.

The thump of the bass is annoying, only because you aren’t drunk. Usually you love this shit, and the packed dance floor stuffed with swaying bodies gives you a little bit of a rush as you remember all the good nights you’ve had here. Drinking till the sun comes up, meeting strangers and making them your best friends for a night, taking some lucky guy home with you only to kick him out the next morning, bored and hungover. It makes you smile to think about how your life used to be, free of responsibility, but as the Mandalorian comes up next to you, you are reminded of why you’re here.

“Where should we look?” He yells, and you pull him down by his shoulder so he can repeat it. He stiffens under your touch, but over the past couple days he’s started to get used to you putting your hands on him, you think. You think he’s probably been alone for most of his missions, so being around someone as outgoing as you; it’s probably a lot to take in

The Mandalorian has not, will not ever get used to the way you touch him. The first time you reached out for him, pulling his arm in the direction of some abandoned house, he nearly dropped to his knees at the way your fingers curled around his armor. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your hand on him, how your skin looked against the silver beskar, how your eyes bore holes in his helmet, like you could see him through all of it. He would never admit how he went back to the ship and jacked off like he never had before, only thinking about your hand gripping him, tighter and tighter. You wave your hand in front of his face, and he has to look around to get his bearings.

“Hey! I said through here. Come.” Your hand takes his, and he lets you lead him through the crowd. Once his brain swims back into his own head, he tightens his hand on yours, coming closer behind you as you shove your way through. It gets easier as you go further, people starting to move in the presence of his giant frame.

He doesn’t notice that, he doesn’t even notice where you're leading him, all thoughts and two eyes on your hand, gripping his, and he doesn’t think he will be able to get the image out of his head.

Threading through the last of the crowd, you have to knock a few people out of the entrance to the back, a couple making out looking up and giggling as they watch you lead a giant Mandalorian into the red rooms. The soft material of the curtain sends shivers up your arm as you pass through it, and you hear Mando behind you swatting at it, and the rip of material as some of it gets caught on his armor.

“Hey darlin’. Come back for more?” You hear a familiar voice and you roll your eyes at the sound of it. Shaun was an old friend, although friend was a very loose term. You hooked up once, extremely drunk, kissing in this very room for about three seconds before his girlfriend at the time came in and smacked the shit out of him.

“More of watching you get your ass beat by a girl?” He physically winces, and being the complete push over that he is, when he sees The Mandalorian trail behind you, he swallows hard and backs up a bit. “We need to go downstairs. My friend wants to pay a visit.”

“Come on. You kn-know I can’t.” Stepping forward, you hear the click of a blaster from behind you, and The Mandalorian takes perfect aim.

“You can. You will, too. Or he will make you.” You motion your head over your shoulder, and you can see the way he’s standing without turning your head, one leg slightly bent, casually waiting to shoot.

“They’ll kill me if I do.” He whispers and looks at the floor. You kick the cheap carpet out of the way and see a tiny sliver of light, a shadow crossing over it. The fob beeps from behind you, faster than before.

“I’ll kill you if you don’t.” Mando moved closer behind you, you could only tell because his voice got louder and you could see a little glint of beskar in the corner of your eye. You just put your hand out, and the key to the tiny lock on the trap door falls into your hand, Shaun stepping back. As soon as the lock clicks he bolts.

Coward.

Not like he’ll have anything to worry about once Mando goes down. You flip up the trap door as quietly as possible, and go to take the first step when a gloved hand falls on your shoulder.

“Stay up here. Keep watch.” He goes down first, and before you lose his head down the door you whisper to him.

“Be safe, okay?”

He freezes.

He can fight twenty guys at once, unarmed, and not even think about it, but the worried look in your eyes and your hand gently running across the side of his helmet makes every muscle in his body freeze. He manages a nod and you smile, closing the door over his head, and he lets out a very long sigh, trying to contain himself. He needs to focus, and the only way he can seem to do that is if he isn’t near you, so when your face disappears from view, he slips back into the zone.

He drops and finally hits solid ground, blaster fire immediately following. He hears the door above him swing open, seeing your hair whizz past his vision as you fold yourself into the tiny gap behind the stairs, shuffling along to get a vantage point above him. While watching you one of the men throws a punch against his armor. He wouldn’t have even felt it if he wasn’t looking, and it pissed him off so much that he just picks up the guy and smashes him down into the table, breaking it in two.

Watching the Mandalorian in his element, he moves easily through the men, hardly having to look when he fires a blaster or throws a punch. You shoot a couple heading out the back, not entirely sure which one he is after, but they deserved it anyways. These guys were notorious spice runners, but it wasn’t the drugs that made them bad, it was them selling it to young kids, telling them if they sell it all they will make them rich, and then forcing them to work out the debt when they inevitably don't come through. It was a fucked up system, one that you had been trying to take down for the past couple months, but having a giant beskar bounty hunter on your team was doing things now that would have taken you years alone.

Bodies start to pile up and pretty soon you notice the Mandalorian running out of guys to kill, so you shimmy back through the ladder and drop down. By the time you reach him, he’s cracking the skull of the last guy on the wall, his body sliding down leaving green blood in a trail. The tracking fob still beeps in the quiet of the room. You reach into the Mandalorians belt and pull it out, wandering around the room trying to get a better signal.

The Mandalorian can’t move. You didn’t even think twice, just shoved your hands in his belt, so dang close to where he’s pictured ever since he saw you. You’ve ignited something in him that he thought went dormant when he took the helm, but you; your hands, your confidence - he can’t hide the reaction you cause.

You try not to make a big deal out of it, try not to smile, to acknowledge the way he froze up under you. It's not possible, you and him. Even though you have thought about it many, many times. You don't even know how it would work; would he keep his armor on? Take those gloves off, the ones that sometimes slip up his hand and you see a sliver of tanned, real skin that sends your stomach crazy, and would he put his hands on you? You drag your eyes back to the fob in your hand, and when you lift it above your head it beeps wildly.

“How did he get past us?” You shake your head, because there’s no way he did. You were behind the stairs, and no one passed through the Mandalorians' brutal assault.

“Maybe he was never down here. I don’t know what he looks like. Guy’s a ghost.” The modulator thinks out loud, and you both look up at each other in realization, and a bit of shock on your part.

“There is no way.” It makes you laugh, because it's that unbelievable. “Shaun is a pussy. No way he could pull that off. He is not the guy we’re after. No. No way.”

“Where does that door lead to?” He’s referring to the door Shaun went out of, but you just turn and start up the ladder, still in some weird state of half shock and half amazement.

“Shaun. Fucking Shaun! You know this guy burnt his own eyebrows off because he was holding a blowtorch the wrong way?” The Mandalorian says nothing, but you just can’t believe it.

Shaun - the guy who cried when you told him he probably wasn’t going to be a Jedi was helping these syndicate guys run a child spice ring. You cannot believe this shit.

You ram the door Shaun fled into, and the pumping music instantly hits your chest, a hard bass line beating through the floor. You can feel the armor looming behind you, your ears tuning into the way Mando breathes even over the volume. Both of you take in the sight in front of you, the club is somehow ten times more busy, hardly giving you room to move. You scan the wave of people, darkness covering them and hands and bodies swaying way too fast to even see a face.

“I see him.” He says, and you look up to him. His arm comes over your shoulder, armor brushing lightly over the bare skin there. His hand is easy to follow, your focus deadly on the way his chest touches your back when he breathes in. Squinting, you see the unmistakable red hair bobbing through the crowd. “Can't get a clear shot. We need to move closer.”

“Follow me.” You pull him towards the crowd, but he doesn’t move.

“We’ll go around.” You look, both to your left and right, and see no way around, bodies just as thick to the walls as they are in the middle, and Shaun is moving further into the crowd.

“It’s too slow.” You pull him again to no avail.

“I’m not going in there.” He pulls you back to him, and your hand presses against his chest. You swear you can feel his heart beating under the thick layer of armor.

The Mandalorian has never felt so out of his element. The heat signatures of all the people around him are blown out in his helmet, the loud music blaring his senses, but that isn’t what's making him nervous. It's you, your hand on his chest, eyes wide and searching. He feels your look in his bones, like you're staring right at him, the real him. He swallows, and knows you can read him like a book.

“It's gonna be fine. You’re big and scary, they’ll move.” He doesn’t do anything, just stares at your mouth as you talk. “Are you like, claustrophobic?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“Not big on crowds.” You tilt your head up at him, and he knows you picked that up from him. You mirror him, the way he scans the room, the way you change your stance when you look at him, keeping one hand on your blaster whenever you're outnumbered. It makes his heart beat faster to think you notice him like that, and the blood rushes to every part of him that he needs to keep tame. Your eyes flick down quickly then back up to him.

“Hey, come on! I’ll hold your hand the whole time.” You can almost see him roll his eyes in that giant helmet.

“Not helping.” His head swivels towards Shaun who is moving fast through the crowd, his small frame allowing him to slide through easier.

“We’re gonna lose him, Mando.” You sigh. You aren’t forcing him, not pulling his arm and dragging him through the crowd, even though the guy you have been hunting for what feels like forever is escaping as you stand there.

“Fine.” The Mandalorian goes to step forward into the crowd, but hesitates. It’s something you’ve only seen him do a handful of times, and usually it means something bad - no, horrible and unexpected is about to happen, because if he hasn’t planned for something, you have no way in Hell to be ready for it- “It’s Din.”

It’s so quiet, if you weren’t so in tuned with his voice you would have missed it.

“What?” Eyes wide, you tilt your head all the way up, making an effort to stare exactly where his eyes might be.

“My name. It’s Din.” You swallow, all the words in your brain suddenly vanishing to make room for the most important one. “You’ve been around long enough. You should know it.”

Din.

Din.

Diiiiiiiin.

You go to speak, say something in reply, although you aren’t sure what words would equal the meaning of his confession. Maybe he really was claustrophobic, and you saying his name was some last ditch effort to focus elsewhere. You don’t get a chance to ask him though, it’s as if he senses you're about to speak and slips past you, entering the crowd, but not before your hand slips into his, fingers lacing in between his gloved ones.

He’s thankful for your guiding arm as all his years of training seem to vanish when you touch him for the fourth time tonight.

You weave through the bodies as best you can, trying to track Shaun’s head. The club is huge and there's people everywhere, music pounding and flashing lights only illuminating the tops of peoples bouncing heads. You can feel the gloved hand squeeze yours and you stop, the minuscule proof of reciprocation halting your movements. You can feel him step once more to come right up behind you, his helmet so close you can hear the modulator imitating his breath.

“He stopped. We’re being watched.” Your hands stay linked as you look around. The both of you were practically dead center in the crowd, and you can make out Shaun’s tiny head somewhere to your right, surrounded by significantly bigger guards. Shit. You go to move toward him, but the Mandalorian - Din - Din’s free hand grabs your hip and pulls you back, the movement catching you so surprised that you slam into him. “Guards are armed.”

“They’re gonna shoot the place up if we don't lose them.” All the guards surrounding Shaun have their hands on their blasters, and the more you look the more guards you notice.

“You know this place better. What’s our play?” He was still pressed up against you, and his hand was still on your hip. You could feel the vibration of the speaker's bass through your feet, and you tried to think of a way to lose the guards. They weren’t looking straight at you, more just in the general direction of the crowd. You were sure they knew Shaun was being chased, but with the dark lights of the club, they wouldn’t be able to make out faces. Or helmets, hopefully.

“Dance with me.”

Thank the Maker for the visor, because Din's eyes nearly popped out of his head. He was having a hard enough time concentrating on anything except the way you were so close to him, and how he was pretty sure his glove was touching a tiny part of your skin, so when you suggested moving of any kind, his first reaction was to deny, if only for his own self preservation.

“No.”

“Come on. I’m not asking you to bend me over; just, I don't know, move a little. We can get closer and lose them in the crowd. Before you know it we will be out the door with Shaun, and the guards won't even know we were there.” You were twisting slightly in his hold so you could speak in his ear, and he found himself sliding his hand further across your waist.

“Okay.” You nod up at him but don’t move for a second, waiting for him to relax. “Lead the way.”

You felt so warm. Maybe it was the nightclub, or maybe it was him. Probably him, the way you begin to sway your hips just a fraction to either side had him grinding his teeth to focus on literally anything else. You let your head come back a little to rest on his chest and your other hand was still locked with his own. He tried to think about the fifty armed guards that were going to shoot everyone in here if this plan didn’t work, but no amount of danger, no risk would pull his mind away from how your free hand came up behind his neck, and how his hand had found your opposite hip, his forearm strong and tight against your stomach.

You were more focused than you had been this entire time. Not on Shaun, or the guards, or moving towards the exit, but on grinding your hips just right so you could feel some part of Din underneath the armor. A name to the person you knew hid beneath. You pulled out your best moves, remembering every night you spent in this club before tonight. It’s like every guy was just a practice run, because none of them felt as good, as strong or as fucking big behind you as The Mandalorian. His arm was pulling you against his chest, and the way his fingers twitched every time your ass found his groin; that was all the encouragement you needed.

“You can move. I don’t mind.” You lean up to look at him before flicking your hair to the other side of your shoulder. He was stiff as a board behind you, and you presumed he didn’t do a lot of clubbing in his line of work, but if this was going to work he needed to at least pretend.

“I- I’m not sure I know how.” You smile up at him. You don’t laugh, although he thinks anyone else would, but instead your hand unwinds from his own and comes on top of the one across your stomach.

“You can do whatever you want to me.” Your eyelashes flutter up at him, and the lights flashing across your face did nothing to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks.

The music, however, covered the slight groan Din made when you said those words. His head dropped, wanting to hide his face even though you couldn’t see it.

Maker, does that work for him.

He copies you, moving in time with your hips, and every time you change direction he has to grip you tighter to make sure you don't stop. Keeping your arm over his you take a step to the right towards the target.

“This is okay?” His voice sounds deeper than usual, and it sends shivers down your spine.

“Good. It’s good.” Maker, he was going to lose his shit. All those nights he had imagined you, imagined what you might feel like against him, around him, none of that would have prepared him for the real thing. You were moving like water against him, fluid and free as you bent your knees a little, sliding down only an inch before coming back up and taking another step to the right. He sees a guard to his left, and moves before he can think, protecting you becoming a sixth sense.

He spins, switching sides with you, and as he does so his hold comes around to your back. You were now face to face, his arm still holding you just as tight against his front, and your arm was hung around his neck, pulling him down closer to your face.

“Guard moved.” He justifies, and you can’t help but smile.

“Who knew The Mandalorian had moves?” He laughs a little and you can feel him relax, the arm around your back finding a more comfortable position to rest just above your ass. “Did they teach you ballet on Mandalore, too?”

“Very funny. I told you I don’t know what I’m doing.” You roll your eyes and both of you take another step towards Shaun, dancing bodies pressing you both closer together.

“You’re doing fine.” Fine was an understatement. For someone who claims they don’t dance, he matches every one of your moves perfectly, and it even starts to feel good; better than it ever did with any of those slimy dudes you danced with before.

“Yeah?” He breathes, dropping his head next to yours to scan the crowd behind you. You lose all power for a second, only being able to focus on how he was holding you and whispering as best he could in your ear.

“Mhmm. Very fine.” He laughs against you again, and leads you another step into the crowd.

Din was putting everything he had into not losing all composure right here. The fact that he could see your heat signature through his helmet wasn’t helping. He knew what yours usually looked like, he had spent enough time staring at you to picture it, so when he dropped his eyes and could see your stomach and chest burning red ever since he pulled you against him, his hold on himself became looser and looser.

“How are we doing?” You have to constantly blink to remind yourself why you are both here. He moves his hips against you and you shiver, the feeling of him moving against you too good to hide.

“Still too far.” Your back was to the target, so he had to keep an eye on him. He didn’t want to, didn’t give a shit about the target or the money or the beeping tracking fob. All he wanted was to stay here, with you dancing on him. Your forehead drops to rest on his chest. The music starts to pick up and so does your hips, naturally swaying to the beat.

“S-slow down.” Din stutters. Actually stutters. His voice is slow and crackly when he whispers in your ear. “Can’t think.”

“Why’s that?” The energy of the club disappears, and it's just you and him, occasional blue and red flashes lighting up his helmet.

“We have to focus.” You keep dancing, not wanting this moment to end. He feels so good against you, the cool armor against your hot skin electrifying every movement.

“Worried you can’t handle it, big guy?” You smirk up at him and pull his helmet closer, linking your arms around the back of his neck.

He’s slipping. Too far gone; with your hands around his neck and your hips swaying like that, right against him, there’s no looking back now.

“I can handle it.” You swallow hard at his voice that is now full of confidence, the one he uses when he talks to a target.

“Guess we’ll find out.” His arm at the back of you tightens, and you both realize at the same time what line you are crossing. There's no doubt that either of you haven’t thought about it, it’s all he has thought about since he met you, but it was all too confusing, too much all of a sudden. He has no idea how to handle you, handle whatever it is that you made him feel, but with you in the dark atmosphere of this club and the way you were moving, he can think of nothing else.

Both moving with the music, you start to dance less and grind more, finding a better pace to feel more of him against you. Both of his hands are on you now, one drawing explorative lines up your side while the other holds you to him.

“Guards are coming through the crowd.” His tone becomes a little more serious as the danger suddenly becomes unavoidable. You sneak a quick glance, and you can see them all, pushing people out of the way clearly looking for someone in particular, the shiny head of his helmet practically a beacon. It was so dark you couldn’t make out their faces, let alone Shaun’s or even Din who stared right at you, the guards only obvious because they were the only ones not dancing.

“You need to blend in. Or hide.” You whisper, still trying to act natural and ignore the slight hardness you can feel under your movements. “They’re going to kill everyone in here if they start shooting.”

The club was packed, and syndicate members aren’t exactly known for their conflict resolution, so both of you had no doubt they would shoot their way through innocent people just to minimize risk.

The Mandalorian had two options. He either let everyone in here take the risk of getting shot in the inevitable bloodbath that was going to happen when the guards got close enough to see him, which they only would be able to do because of how reflective his armor was.

Or, he could lean into the very bad second option which had a lot less risk for everyone else, but risked everything he had built for the last 20 years.

Even in the helmet he could only see your face, the darkness blurred everyone around him except how your pretty eyes were staring up at him, letting your hair fall over your shoulders. He couldn’t help but think how soft it would feel in his fingers. He could see your mouth, and how you held your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes glancing around trying to gage how much time you have before he gets you both killed.

“We need to move. They’re going to kill them.” You say, and it’s only because you finally stopped your torturous movement that he can think clearly for a second, or maybe not so clearly considering what he was about to do.

“I have an idea.” Comes through the modulator, and you're half surprised he’s still in there considering how quiet he’s been.

“Cutting it a bit close.”

“Do you trust me?” A gloved hand comes up to your cheek and your eyes fall on him. The glint of the beskar catches the eye of a guard and you can see them coming your way to investigate, caving you in to him at all angles. You lean up on your toes, getting as close to him as possible to make sure no one can hear your answer.

“I trust you, Din.”

“Good.” The hiss of an armor seal, the sound of something hitting the floor and a flash of brown curls under blue light are the last things you remember before his lips found yours.

They were soft. Surprisingly soft. He moved slowly, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do now that he had found you. There was something so intimate about how slowly he kissed you, nothing but his lips moving against yours, only taking what you give him. You were caught so off guard you aren’t sure you moved in the first few seconds, but as soon as the realization of what was happening washed over you, you gave him everything you had.

One of your hands found his hair, slightly damp from sweat and the other pulled at his neck as if he could get any closer to you. You deepened the kiss, sliding your tongue into his mouth to show him just how okay you are with this, and he responds immediately. All of a sudden what was once a distraction kiss becomes something much more wild, more desperate and much more fitting for the feelings you both have for each other. For a second, you break apart, and its enough for you to utter the only word, the only name you will ever think of again. “Din.” You kiss the name onto his lips before he takes over again, the two of you practically becoming one.

He thinks he’s died and gone straight to hell, hearing you whisper his name. His real name. It’s unlike anything he’s experienced before. You taste sweet, like sugar, and your mouth moves on his like it’s never done anything else. He pulls you tighter, grabs at your hip while the other holds your face to his, using it to obscure himself to everyone but you. He is very aware of how wrong this is, but your teeth bite his bottom lip ever so slightly before sliding your tongue back in his mouth and he suddenly doesn’t care. He is hidden from everyone in the club by the darkness and fog, most of them too drunk or too absorbed in their own lives to notice him, which is exactly what the guards have blended you both in with as they begin to fan out around you. Just another couple kissing in the sea of dancing bodies.

He knows the guards pass as soon as he hears the clicks of blasters in holsters behind him. The threat is eliminated, passed, so why hasn’t he put his helmet back on? Why hasn’t he ripped his mouth away from you?

Every second you kiss him back makes it harder for him to think logically, and when you moan into his hard grip on your back and arch into him he doesn’t think he will ever be able to stop.

You feel the guard brush past you, but Din is kissing you so hard, so fervently that you don’t think you could deny him anything if he asked you right now, so you make no move to pull away, to slow down.

“Fuck.” His voice is just as low out of the modulator, and you feel your legs go weak at the sound of it. You made him say that, you affected him. Just like he affects you. You can feel his skin, a slight stubble around his cheeks, his hair longer than you would have thought, and it’s curly in your hands which for some reason makes him ten times hotter. You want more than anything to pull away and stare at him, take in the image of him, knowing no one will see it but you. But you don’t, and you just let him kiss you until neither of you can breathe, and then a little longer.

When he pulls away you expect him to cover up fast, and you keep your eyes closed not wanting to betray his trust in a futile moment. However, he just rests his forehead against yours, and you can feel the slightly clammy skin of his face against yours. You are both panting for air in the small space between you, and he breaks the silence first.

“They’re gone. Shaun too.” You mentally curse, but you're having trouble being upset at all at this moment, the overwhelming feeling of him is still flooded throughout your body, leaving no room for anything or anyone else.

“That was…”

“A good distraction?” His breath is warm on your face and you are so scared to move because then you won’t be able to kiss him again.

“I was going to say ‘fucking amazing’ but yeah, that too.” He laughs for just you, and you don’t think you will ever get tired of hearing that.

“Now who can’t handle it?” You laugh as he teases you, and nearly roll your eyes until you remember you can’t open them. You put your hand over your face. “What are you doing?”

“In case I see. When you put the…” your foot nudges the beskar helmet on the ground and you feel him nod against you.

“Right.” He forgot everything, forgot the creed he committed his entire life to, and that was only a fucking kiss. He leant down and picked up the helmet, shoving it back on.

It was the first time he resented having to wear it.

Your eyes open and find the black visor staring back at you. You smile up at him and start to sway your hips, placing your hands on his side and resting your face in the crook of his neck.

“Can we pretend a little longer?” You mumble into his shirt at his neck, and he stiffens slightly. You feel a hand adjust his pants before it finds the back of your head.

“I wasn’t pretending.”

“Me either.” The lights start to slow around you, blue and red no longer coming in flashes but waves, and you look up at him.

“Come with me.” He says it half as a question, half a command and his hand intertwines with yours again.

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Everywhere.” You laugh and lean back, leading him towards the exit before you turn around and start squeezing through bodies. He follows close behind, keeping watch for any remaining guards or any ideas for where Shaun might have gotten to. Soon the cool night winds it’s way over your skin and you shiver, the Mandalorian coming right up behind you and guiding you away.

“I didn’t see where he went. Do you have anything?” You look up but he’s not focused on searching, his eyes are set in one direction.

“Track him tomorrow.”

“But what abo-“

“Do you know how many nights I’ve waited to touch you?” Your eyes widen, and you have no words. He’s stopped walking in the middle of the street, but it’s late and dark so no one else is around to witness. You shake your head. “Any idea how many nights I thought about you? Dreamt of you?” Again, you shake your head.

“What did I do? In your dreams?” You breathe, the foggy night steaming a cloud over his helmet as he leans in close.

“I’m going to show you. If you let me.” He tugs on your hand, gentle enough to let you pull away, but you grab his wrist tight and make sure the hold doesn’t break.

“Show me.” He’s too focused on getting where he wants to go that he doesn’t stop immediately. “Din. Please.” He pulls you against him and starts walking a little slower.

“You said that; in my dream.”

“What? Show me?” He shakes his head.

“Please.”

“I say that all the time. I have great manners.”

“Not the way I’m thinking, cyar’ika.” Your heart flutters at the name, and the way he says it, how it vibrates through his chest and reaches into your own. You round a corner and his ship comes into view.

“Guess you’ll have to demonstrate.” The hand on your lower back drops and rests on your ass, giving it a little squeeze that makes you jump into him.

“I plan on it.” Your breath catches in your throat and suddenly you're moving at an almost inhuman pace, jogging to try and keep up with his giant steps. You can hear the passing voices of people heading home for the night, and you wonder where you would have ended up had you not lost Shaun tonight.

Realistically, if you had told your past self you would leave without the bounty tonight, she probably would have slapped you. Right now, though, as the Razor Crest comes into view, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect ending.

Or a more anticipated one. He moves like a predator - fast, swift and with purpose, having the ramp of the Crest already opening by the time you round the corner, hand still entangled tightly with his own.

You were high on adrenaline, the events of just minutes ago still fogging your brain, but your concentration had nowhere else to be but right here, as the soft lights of Corellia disappeared behind the closing ramp. You let out a shuddering breath as Din steps toward you. You can hardly see him, going off your other senses to gauge exactly where he is.

You can smell him. You feel strange, inhaling deeply in the almost pitch black of the hull, but you think it might be your favorite smell. It reminds you of safety, a little hint of vanilla mixed with cedar wood, a result of the single, half empty bottle of all-in-one soap you once glimpsed in the corner of his refresher. You don’t hear him step behind you, but the smallest hint of air brushes over your shoulder, and the scent overwhelms you.

You turn around, exceedingly eager. Your chest practically slams into him, and it’s only when you settle your hands on his ribcage you hear how fast you were breathing.

“Relax. It’s just me.” You let out a soft laugh, trying to hide your nerves.

“That’s kind of the problem.” You say and instantly feel him move back.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” You want to slam your head against the wall. Of course he would be sweet, and kind, exactly the kind of guy you always want but never find yourself going for. Willing some of that confidence from the club to miraculously appear, you blindly reach out, playing to pull him back to you, and yank the first part of armor you find.

You wouldn’t call it a squeak, exactly. You don’t think that it would be possible for Din to emit a sound like that, but something breathy and surprising cracks the silence in the ship as you pull him forward. Your hand had slipped right over the ridge of his breastplate, finding the one weak spot on his armor even in the dark. You could feel him swallow against the back of your knuckles.

“I want…” Two hands rest lightly on your body. One is on your hip, his thumb running small lines up and over the curve of it, and the other rests on your cheek. His skin - exposed, and against yours, is rough as his fingers begin to thread into your hair. The heel of his palm takes up most of your cheek, and a wave of warmth rushes through every part he touches.

“What do you want, cyar’ika?” Even though it’s pitch black, your eyes flutter shut at the beautiful jumble of words. You recognise the language, only because you’ve heard Din say a few words here and there during hunts, but mainly only the swear words. Now, the language sounds like a dream, and it doesn’t really matter what it means, only that he’s saying it to you, and it almost sounds like a compliment.

“I want you, Din.” You feel the hand in your hair tighten slightly, flex and thread further towards the back of your head. The hand on your hip leaves only for a second, and in the next moment a loud clang on the ground has you almost jumping into Din’s arms.

“Sorry.” He laughs, and your heart stops. His voice is perfectly clear. Handsome. Can a voice be handsome? You keep your eyes closed, afraid to break the spell of whatever magic must be enchanting you right now. “Come here.”

You don’t get a chance to fully appreciate the sound of him, without his helmet for the second time tonight, but when his lips gently press against yours, you get lost in him. You’ll have him talking soon enough. Emboldened by how tentative he moves against you, your hands slip out from underneath his breastplate and into his hair. Your eyes squeeze shut tighter at the feeling, and your fingers get tangled in the slightly damp mess of curls. It was longer than you imagined, and soft. So, so soft. Maybe that all-in-one soap needed a little more credit.

When you use the new hold you have on him to pull him closer, he groans into your mouth. The sound has you sighing in content, and you drag your fingertips over his scalp, massaging the sound out of him again. The hand on your hip slides up to your lower back, holding you against him, tight. Everything comes rushing back, the music that was flowing around you minutes ago, the energy of the club, the way Din was letting himself feel you without hesitation. You move against him, and his hands drop from your face to just under your ass, and in one go he has you up in his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his back.

He takes a single step and makes the distance from the center of the hull, pushing you up against the wall. The cold metal is hard against your back, but so is the unyielding hold of his armor on your front, and it immobilizes you in the best way. His hands, unrestrained by the gloves he usually wears, begin to massage just under your ass, fingers spreading out along the fabric covered skin. His teeth lightly graze on your bottom lip, and the movement has you gasping and chasing his mouth when he pulls back.

“So many people in that damn club.” He grumbles, blessing you with another light kiss before dragging the soft skin of his lips down to your jawline. His tongue darts out only slightly, tasting you. Some small part of your brain that is still able to process words reminds you of how reluctant he was when you all but forced him into the crowd.

“I didn’t mean t-to make you go in - fuck, Din.” He finds a spot just under your ear, biting and kissing while you attempt to form a sentence.

“Not what I mean.” His curls tickle the underside of your chin as he dips his head, kissing the front of your throat. Something about it feels like surrender, and you are more than happy to give in to it. “Wanted you all to myself.”

“You could of fucking had me months ago.” It comes out a little more aggressive than you planned, but it’s painfully true. All it would have taken was one word from him, and you would have given him whatever he wanted. It pissed you off to think of all the wasted time, especially when it might be coming to an end once you tracked down the final bounty. Your words make him stutter, his hair brushing your cheek before his forehead rests on your own.

“Really?” You can hear his smile through his words, and it makes your heartbeat a little faster just imagining it.

“Best bounty hunter in the galaxy, but can’t pick up a single hint, huh?” You slide your arms around his neck, one hand pulling him back to your mouth. He lets you lead, melting into your touch as your hand starts to massage the thick muscles at the base of his neck. He moans, and you can feel the effect of the small sound under your clothes, so you track it down again, repeating the motion. He was still wearing his full armor except the gloves and helmet, so you did your best to relax his neck and shoulders the best you could reach. He rewards the movement with those same sweet sounds, taking your full weight by holding you in his forearms.

“Maker, you- you feel so fucking good.” You start to roll your hips against him, and from this angle you can feel him, hard and big under that damn armor.

“Feels better without my clothes on.” You arch your neck to whisper in his ear, leaving soft kisses along his cheek before returning to his lips.

His restraint doesn’t last long, not that he really had much. He was planning to take this slow - for you as much as for himself. He knew you hadn’t gone out like you used to since you met him; bounty hunting tended to involve a whole lot of late nights and early mornings. Of course, he was glad you weren’t taking any men into your bed while he was around, but he knew it was something you were… experienced at. It had been a while for him, so when he knew the feelings he was having weren’t just physical, he was really shooting in the dark for a chance with you at the best of times.

Now it was here, he was going to make it good.

So good that you never thought about anyone, ever again. He was going to consume you, just as you had consumed him.

Everything changes suddenly. Like neither of you expect it. Din slides you out of his arms, and on your way down, his fingers hook under the flimsy material of your shirt. It sits just above your jeans, exposing a small line of skin that Din’s fingertips currently graze against. There’s nothing you can do to hide the goosebumps that prickle your skin. He seems to stop; waiting for you to shove him away. Waiting for some kind of sign that he is reading this wrong, that he must be.

You drop your hands to his own and, following your lead, he takes your shirt off and throws it somewhere in the darkness.

“Your turn.” You whisper, and your hands come up to his neck, pulling at the fabric that covers him. He still isn’t used to the way you touch him, and if this keeps up, he’s pretty sure he never will be.

It’s a meticulous process - taking off his armor. He can do it with his eyes closed, but it still takes a while. You don’t seem to mind, though. Piece by piece, he sheds the armor away, letting it clatter to the floor around you with little care. Your hands hover over the tops of his, learning, and soon you take initiative by following his actions, repeating the steps on his opposite side.

He doesn’t think he will ever want to take his armor off in any other way.

Your fingers are more delicate, where his own rip and tug at the connectors, your own untangle. Where he shrugs it off, shaking his arm to let the plate tumble to the floor, your hands are feather light as you slide the remaining beskar, and he closes his eyes, content to just feel as you complete the job. Soon enough, he’s standing in front of you in less clothes than he’s ever worn in front of another person.

Any other time, he’s fully clothed, armor only shifted in necessary places. He’s never wanted to be felt, never wanted someone’s hands on him, but after feeling you so close tonight, he doesn’t think he could go another second without it.

You blindly reach out to his face, the dark still keeping his creed intact. He lets your fingertips dance along the ridge of his nose, before you grab his face and pull, locking him into a kiss.

This one is different. Where the others have been full of sweetness, this one is needy. Hungry. Clearly, the process of removing his armor had a similar effect on you, because in the next few seconds he feels you whipping his shirt off, only disconnecting from his mouth for a moment before coming back to him, hands exploring his chest.

He felt big. Of course he was fucking huge, but having him half naked, feeling that broad chest under your palms, you almost forgot how giant he really was. It sent waves of need straight to your core, and you wasted little time tugging at the seams of his pants. If these were just as complicated as his armor was, you think you might collapse before he even-

In one pull, his pants go sliding off, and you feel how fast they drop under the weight of his armor. It makes a loud ‘clang’ as it hits the floor, and even though you can only think of what the sight in front of you must look like, you have to stifle a laugh at how easy it was to take them off.

“Easy access.” Din hums as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, bringing your attention back to him. He drags his teeth along the sensitive skin, and when you arch your back, you feel him. It’s impossible not to, the hard length pressing against your lower stomach, and it sends the butterflies already flying around in your stomach raving mad.

“Please, Din. I need you.” You hear him sigh at your words.

“You sound more perfect than I imagined.” You could feel how hot your face was, even your ears were burning. Before tonight, you could probably count the amount of words he had said on one hand. There was something about hearing him unfiltered, talking like that.

You let out a whimper at the words, and he starts to undo your jeans, finally taking the fucking hint.

“You like it when I talk like that? Tell you how sweet you sound saying my name?”

“Stars- yes. Please.” You shove your jeans down and step out of them, and Din leads you away from the pile of armor and clothes. You have lost all sense of direction, trusting him not to run you into anything. When he stops you, you feel yourself being pressed into an oddly shaped wall. A door? No - the rungs of the ladder leading up to the cockpit stripe against your bare back, and Din helps you sit up on one, taking the weight off your feet.

“Mesh’la, cyar’ika. Sit there and look pretty for me.” You were about to argue that he couldn’t see anything through the dark, but maybe his eyes were better adjusted. Maybe, from all his late nights spent hunting, he could see just a little bit better that you could in the dark. Maybe he truly couldn’t see you, and was just talking to indulge you, but the idea of him still being hidden, while he could see all of you made you start to fidget, almost whining at his lack of touch.

That was, until you heard him drop onto the floor, the wide stretch of his shoulders pushing your knees further apart, and his hands gently adjusting your calves to sit just above his collarbones.

Din could see. Years spent training to look for things no human would look for, scanning through shitty terrain and the helmet adjusting the light, his eyes had become just that much more in tune with the dark. So, while he couldn’t see every stunning curve of your hip, or the way your hair fell over your shoulders, he could see. He could see you, spread out in front of him, hands buried in his hair in anticipation, and it was too damn beautiful to deny.

“Mesh’la.” He repeats against the skin of your inner thigh, before sliding his hands up. He keeps kissing the trail his hands made, and slides his palms under either side of your panties, carefully placing them just outside of where he could see you were wanting him. “Is this okay?”

“I wanna feel you on me, Din. Please.” As much as his words sent you spinning, you knew you had that same effect on him. Din practically rips off your panties, and with a final mumble of incoherent Mando’a, he lets his tongue slide against your pussy, the first contact already having you moaning out his name.

“That’s it. Be as loud as you want. No one can hear you but me.” He never gives you rest, when he speaks he is methodical, making sure his hands keep that tortuous pace. Not so fast where you would tumble over the edge in seconds, although the way he lets his tongue work just around that sensitive bundle of nerves has you thinking he could make you finish in a moment's notice. He doesn’t, though; working you up in slow, gentle strokes that have you seeing more stars than you’ve ever seen in the galaxy.

One of his fingers slides inside of you, and you nearly jump off the ladder in pleasure.

“Oh- f-fuck Din faster.” You almost sob, the pace still so slow and grinding. He is seemingly lost in his own mind - soft vibrations sparking up your body as he hums in content against you. Occasionally, he will mumble a word or two, but they are lost in your own moans of pleasure.

Legs shaking, your hands start to pull a little harder against his scalp, and it surely hurts at least a little. Moving your hips against his face, you feel him smirk against your core, and the desperate movements of your body at least seem to encourage him. You feel like you’re in space - floating in no gravity as Din’s tongue flicks against your clit before he takes it into his mouth and he speeds up the movement of his hand all at once. It’s too much and not enough, and your thighs clamp down on either side of his head as your body is sent into overdrive.

His free arm snakes around the back of the ladder, holding you to him so you have nowhere to go,  nothing else to do except exactly what he said - sit there and look pretty. You can’t hold your head up anymore, your body starting to tense as every nerve is set alight. You know it’s coming, but as he pushes you to the edge, the intensity of the incoming pleasure was nothing like you had ever felt.

“D-Dinnn shit I think I’m- oh fu-ck!” Everything lights up as he moans against you, the sensation the last thing you can recall as your body floods with the intensity of your orgasm. Your hands scrunch up in his hair, and you could swear your bones turn to jelly as the feeling racks through your entire being. No one in the galaxy has ever - could ever make you feel like this, but Din does. Din is.

It feels like hours and seconds pass at the same time, Dins mouth slowing its assault as he starts to press sweet kisses to any other expanse of skin he can reach in this position. He coaxes you through as your body reacts to the light touches, humming against your skin and smiling every time you suck in a sharp breath as he edges closer back to your center, before heading in another direction. The game brings your body back together, and fairly soon your fidgeting on the rung of the ladder, desperate to feel more of him against you, but unable to hold anything but his soft hair.

It really was soft.

You start to massage soothing circles into the top of his head as an apology for your tight grip, and he finally relents, tongue tracing a final line over your heated core.

“Jatisyc.” You hear him growl, voice gravelly as he stands. You can feel how tall he is, looming over you even if you can’t see him. You can feel it.

He helps you stand, your legs still shaking slightly, and he guides you over to a corner of the ship before a door opens. You don’t think you’ve been in this section of the ship before, and if you’ve ever spent more than twenty four hours here, you have just slept in a pile of blankets on the floor. He continues to guide you into the room, and the back of your legs hit a metal pole before he stops.

“Lie down.” He kisses your forehead before gently nudging you, and a surprised gasp leaves your mouth at the soft comforter underneath you. A bed. Small, you realize as you slide further back, knees bending to push yourself to the wall it rested on. Clearly made for one, you try to minimize the space you take up as two thick legs box you in on either side. His warmth covers your entire body as he drops his weight down, closing the space and reconnecting his mouth to your own. On instinct, you wrap your legs around his back, pulling his hips down towards the bed, and you can finally feel him against you. Only the thin layer of his briefs separate you but it’s too much - hands creeping down his body and tugging on the waistband, the sound of Din shuddering a breath in your mouth making you act faster. Tugging and shifting on the tiny mattress, you both try your best to stay as close as possible while removing the last layer of clothes.

“Baby - wait, hold on.” He starts to laugh, and the sound is the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. He bends down, kicking the clothes to the side somewhere, still laughing at the weird angle you’ve both somehow tangled yourselves in. It’s almost strange - the sound is so unlike the hardened bounty hunter you had tried your best to get used to over the past few months, but it suits him. Hearing him like this, you have no idea how you will be able to stand having him tucked away in that helmet again. You decide, then, that he is taking way too long, and you are not close enough.

“Din.” He turns back to you, finally repositioning so he is between your legs. As he drags his mouth up the length of your body, he lays kisses on the skin open to him, which is all of it. All of you, laid out in the darkness of what must be his room. It smells like him, and with the lack of sight you can imagine he was all around you. His hair brushes against your chest, and your breath hitches in anticipation of him getting closer. “Please.”

“Just like in my dreams.” He mumbles. He doesn’t kiss you just yet. He just hovers, watching with a hunters focus as he lines himself up with you. He could feel how wet you were - like you were just waiting for him. Waiting for him, like he had been waiting for you. Your fingers run soft lines up and down his chest, and his hands fist in the sheets. Even here, at the edge of the most intimate act he could think of, he still wasn’t used to how you touched him.

As he slowly pushed himself into you, you both mimic the sound of ultimate relief. It was achingly slow, the rock of Din’s hips measured with control only he could execute, and before he had driven into you fully, you were already moaning out his name.

“Fuck, Din.” Everytime you say his name, he groans, similar to what you’ve heard when he’s fighting. Like it’s just on that border of pleasure that it’s almost painful, and with your hands bracing on his biceps, you can feel the tense in his shoulders. It’s an entire body experience, calling him by his name, and if that’s what gets him to move fast, you would chant it like a prayer.

“Th-shit. This is okay?” He says in that same low voice you recognise from the club. Practically clinging to him, you shake your head yes in the darkness, hoping to the Maker he doesn’t stop. His forehead is pressing into your own, soft lips dragging against yours as he bottoms out, driving up into a part of yourself you aren’t sure you knew you had.

You cry out, and it’s clearly what he was looking for, because he drags his length all the way out to the tip, and then enters you again, setting a mind numbing pace. You can hear the weak legs of the bed shifting against the hard floor of the ship as he fucks you, hard and slow.

“Fuck, cyar’ika. Feel so fucking good around me.” He gets a little rougher, losing himself in you, speaking through the small gaps of silence when you suck in a breath, only to continue calling out his name in pure ecstasy. There was no boy - no shitty fuck from the club that felt like this. It’s like you were on another planet - in another realm, the sounds he made as he grinded himself into you sending you hurtling in all directions.

“Holy shit-” You gasp, feeling one of his large hands trail down to rub small, tight circles on your clit. Your back arches, pressing your skin to his, and he’s like a heater in the cold of the ship, only making you seek him out more. “Oh-my Din.”

“Yours.” It takes you a second, your eyes screwed shut and your entire body only existing for him, but he says the simple word, and everything freezes. You had said it first. ‘My Din’. Maybe it was on accident, losing the rest of the sentence in the way he was fucking you into the mattress, but you know it wasn’t. Even half lidded, on the edge of your high, you knew it wasn’t a mistake. He wasn’t either.

Yours.

Your Din.

“Mine.” You tug his mouth back to you, teeth latching on to his bottom lip while your fingernails scratch along his toned back. He chokes out a sound just desperate enough to make known that he likes it, so you do it again. You know it’s leaving marks, and he does too. He picks up speed, chasing his own high and his free hand grips onto your hip tight enough to leave the shape of his hold in its wake. You mark him. He marks you.

Yours.

Mine.

“Din please, don’t fucking stop.” Your eyes were closed so tight it screws up your whole face, and even though he hasn’t told you not to look, you can’t bring yourself to throw his trust out the window. Even if your eyes did open, you wouldn’t see him through the dark, and you are pretty sure your eyes would be crossed and glazed over with the zaps of electric pleasure shooting up into your chest.

“Never gonna- shit. Never gonna stop.” Your body shivers in response, and you can feel the coil tightening in your lower stomach. “Gonna keep you on this ship forever. Fuck you every day.”

Maybe it’s the idea of it. Maybe it’s the realization that he could. If he wanted to. It’s mainly the realization that you want him to that snaps that tight coil and sends you all the way over the edge. You feel his hand leave your hip and curl around your back, holding your weight in one strong forearm, he keeps fucking you through your high, using it to reach his own. With a loud growl of your name he follows you, and you feel him pull out at the last second, warmth spreading across your inner thigh.

You were lost in the dark, unsure of where your body started and his ended. Limbs were tangled together, and you feel him sit back on his knees, heaving deep breaths and staring at you. It almost burns, the knowledge of his gaze. Of the sight he must be looking at - of you strung out, covered in the evidence of what he just did. Of what he just did to you. It’s almost enough to make you cum again, just to please him.

You feel him lean over, quickly grabbing whatever fabric was closest and wiping you clean, before proceeding to flop his entire body weight down next to you, and half on top of you. With an exhausted ‘oof’ he almost starfishes on the tiny bed, pulling your naked body underneath one of his outstretched arms. The weight of him makes it a little hard to breathe, but you sigh in relief as you feel his head nuzzling into the crook of your neck, kissing your shoulder and hair tickling your ear.

“Mesh’la.” He mumbles into your skin, and you turn as best you could, pulling his face to press against your own.

“What does that mean?” Your voice is hoarse, hardly above a whisper, and he kisses you before he answers.

“Beautiful.”

“Mesh’la.” You whisper back, and his head dives back into you, hiding himself even though you can’t see him. “So, will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Keep me on this ship forever?” He almost stops breathing - everything goes quiet, and he tries not to react as your hand traces along the small, hot lines you carved into his back. He feels - selfish, with you. He’s not entitled to, he knows he can’t give you anything. Life with him was nothing like you were used to, this night was the first time he had ever stepped foot in a nightclub, unlike you, who did this every day. He couldn’t be selfish with you, but there was a desperate part of him that wanted to be the bad guy. Wanted to say ‘yes’. Wanted to make you his.

“I d-”

“Too late to take it back now. Or are you scared you can’t handle it?” He can hear the shit-eatng grin you are sporting as you tease him, just like before, and he wants to retort, wants to play with you, but he can’t. His brain is fried, and all he can think about is you never leaving.

“Mine.” He whispers, not meaning to say it out loud. You don’t respond right away. Instead, your nose brushes against his, and he feels your short breath kissing his cheek.

He was wrong before - this is the most intimate thing he can imagine.

“Mine.” You say back, and there's not a hint of reservation.

Your breathing starts to slow, and your head drops to his shoulder as exhaustion takes over. He shuffles, cradling your body against his and grabbing the blanket from underneath the bed frame to toss it over you. It wasn’t big enough to cover you both, but the heat of your body next to his combined with his recurring thoughts of what just happened is enough to keep him warm well into the night.

There is too much to do - his bounty hunter brain starts kicking at his conscious mind. The target is escaping, getting further and further every second he spends staring at your sleeping body. He should get up, go off and track it, make good on his promise of getting you off this planet and let you run head first into the life you were meant for.

He doesn’t move. His hand, rough against your soft skin, rubs soothing lines over your arm, and you sigh happily in your sleep. He should do those things, but he won’t. Because of you.

You said he was yours - and hell if he wouldn’t listen.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian smut #mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #mando x y/n #mandalorian x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars tv

[kairiscorner]

OMG IF YOU WANT PLS DO WRITE THE FIC ABOUT MIGUEL SEEING OUR THIRST TRAPS 😭 salamat talagaaaa wala na kasi akong maisip maliban kay miguel

HELLOOOOO, OFC I WILL ANON, I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS HEHE this is another excuse to make more text fics bc it's starting to feel fun for me LMAO <333

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

is it not for me? – miguel o'hara x reader (reacting to your thirst traps)

a/n: kind of suggestive shit underneath the cut, sorry if you don't like it, you have every right to scroll away ^^

after getting used to the controls and operations on social media and understanding the basic goal, or lack, of it–miguel had begun scrolling through his feed like you and lyla directed him to do. he scrolled and scrolled through the endless photos, videos, and posts sent his way by the very strange algorithm of the app. he still hadn't found the right thing for him on social media and he honestly wouldn't be here if you and lyla didn't force him to try it out so much, but when he least expected it... he happened upon your account.

he saw a photo of your back, it was you taking a selfie in the mirror with hardly anything covering your back. your behind was in full view but covered up, the lighting was dim, save for the flash of your phone's camera. the caption read: "for m, hoping you'll enjoy this three-course meal 🍓"

...that did something to miguel. it set some sort of feeling off of him, something that urged him to not just click like, but to comment right then and there: "who the shock is 'm'?" but if only he knew how to comment; all he knows how to do is click like and scroll.

he clicked the like button, unsure of how to feel about that very... eye-catching photo of yours. he tried shaking the feeling off, but he just couldn't; he couldn't stop thinking about it. he scrolled back up to see who else liked your photo, it took him a few tries to figure out how to do that. he also saw a few of the preview comments, complimenting your looks and tagging their friends who had 'm' in their names–joking that the photo was for them.

it pissed miguel off that these people could think your photos were for them, when you promised him you were all his. it damaged his ego slightly, but he figured these people were just douches, simple as that.

...but he needed to be doubly sure, so he click on your profile and looked through the posts you made. you really did love showing off your behind, it seemed like you were incredibly proud of it; miguel's totally in love with your ass, don't get him wrong, bur to know other people could see it and get to revisit the sight of your ass? oh, that made him feel a bit of a stinging pain in his chest.

he hated that feeling, where he felt like you were sharing intimate bits of yourself when you kept reminding and telling him you're all his. that, and as he scrolled through your comments, he saw a lot of people who not only loved your photos and sent you many compliments, but many who told you to get off the platform–many also catcalled you in the comments, too, much to his disgust.

"can't even keep this shit in real life, what losers." he muttered under his breath as he felt his anger rise as he kept scrolling through your comment section. he had gone through almost all of your posts, memorizing all the details of your posts and how you looked in them, feeling his face and chest flare up in a fit of heat as he looked through them all one by one. he sighed as he noticed you were a little too bold in these photos, in his opinion. he didn't want you to jeopardize yourself, seeing as how there were a lot of creeps on your account, he wanted to bring it to you attention.

hence, he messaged you all about his concerns.

"for... her mother?" miguel repeated to himself as he reread your message to him. he sighed, not believing your excuse one bit, believing you directed it to someone with an 'm' in their name, like him, but he decided to play along for now to get you to fess up eventually. that, and he doesn't think you'd wish your mom would have a lovely three-course meal with your ass picture, but he did see that you took pictures of food afterwards, so... it was plausible. but you were not off the hook yet.

he sighed as you laughed at his attempt at guessing who that post was for, who 'm' was. he felt a little embarrassed, a little ashamed he thought it was him, but then he thought of who would be closest to you, had 'm' in their name, and would enjoy the three-course meal that was... you already know what. he sighed as he typed and retyped his message after deleting the previous one, trying to get himself together after outing himself as being a little expectant that those thirst traps were for him.

he finally messaged you, trying to sound stern over text, but he was completely ignored by you when you sent him a selfie of your bottom half, with little letters on your bottom that read: "good????? bad????? should i get em....."

fuck, you baited him again.

he felt his cheeks grow hot and his breath hitch in his throat as he stared at your photo for a second, hoping you wouldn't post this, that this could remain as just a little thing between you two. but then again, he couldn't control you, so he'd just try to respond back–seeming unfazed. hopefully.

he was so easy to please sometimes.

moral of the story?

miguel loves your ass and wants to beat up the creeps in your comments section, while making it known to both you and the world that your ass is all for him–nobody else.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @fictarian @yuridopted0 @arachnoia @meeom @ophanimgold @melovetitties @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @popeheywardssecretgf

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #spiderman 2099 #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv imagines #atsv fluff #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff

[cryptocism]

i was gonna ask how inertia II (helped superboy prime fight the teen titans) fit in the too many thads AU cause i originally thought he was an thad/bart clone but? he's just some dude? i feel like your (fantastic) fic gave him as much mind as the comics

truly that version of Inertia is such a mystery to me GOD i have so many questions. like, he isn't paid much mind within the actual narrative bc there's like 8 different fights happening all at once and Superboy Prime is the main antagonist but, straight up Who Is He.

like in the span of #98-100 there's a couple things that do get confirmed about him

for instance:

"After this is over, I gotta talk to them about this costume they gave me, I mean - green? It's the color of a turtle. Talk about Irony." - "This Inertia hasn't got a clue. He doesn't know that the last speedster to wear that costume killed me. I got better. But the scars run deep."

New Inertia says "they" gave him the Inertia costume. Who is "they"? Superboy Prime? CRAYDL? Someone else?

Bart concludes that New Inertia doesn't know how the previous one killed him. I assume just based on New Inertia's irreverence? But unclear.

"Inertia killed Bart, but that's not the same one. He's two inches taller. No doubt the costume choice is deliberate. Bart only has a few buttons, so it's easy to push them."

Tim notes in his narration that this Inertia is two inches taller than the last one. Why? What purpose does that serve?

Superboy Prime has proven himself capable of making clones, given the gaggle of Kon clones that show up in this fight, but if he made New Inertia to be another clone of Bart or of the previous Inertia, why the physical difference?

Even Bart can't figure out if this guy is a clone or not:

"What's the deal with all these clones? Is that Inertia one too? Or just another speedster?"

Which is kinda wild because although there is a wide selection of speedsters in present, Bart knows pretty much all of them. And even if this is a Random Guy With Superspeed, what would compel him to be here, fighting Bart?

And before any questions can be asked or answers can be given, Bart gets a lil lost in the trauma sauce (can't really blame him) and kicks the shit out of New Inertia

"I died. That happened. Inertia was the catalyst for it. He delivered the fatal blow. But I'm back, and this isn't the same Inertia, right? This is real. I've played out this scenario in my head over and over again. And every time, it felt better and better. Inflicting pain. Destroying him. Avenging myself." "So much anger - radiating like the sun. A dark, black sun. Bart is seething with rage." "It's what he deserves."

the "it's what he deserves" line always gets me. because they've already established this is a New Inertia, he literally hasn't done anything except fuck around causing trouble along with the rest of Superboy Prime's posse. anyway Bart obviously has lots of baggage surrounding Inertia, with the actions of one bleeding onto the other.

(fun fact Raven's description of Bart's emotions being a dark black sun informs a lot of the imagery in chapter 21 of Frequency)

"I... I could've killed him." "But you didn't. You controlled your emotions." "Yeah. See, Raven - we all got our demons inside."

AND THAT IS THE LAST WE SEE OF THIS GUY. Where does he go after this? Is he still unconscious after the fight or does he get away while they're going after Superboy Prime? Who does he go back to? Who The Hell Is He? Fuck you they gotta punch Superboy Prime so hard he ends up in purgatory.

Then of course the run is over, the universe is rebooted, and we get New 52. So all these questions will presumably remain unanswered forever.

But Canon Things About New Inertia Include:

he's "new to this"

not the previous incarnation of Inertia

two inches taller than the previous Inertia

received the Inertia costume from someone else, only referred to as "they"

working with Superboy Prime, but with zero on-panel interactions with either Superboy Prime or any of the other villains who have joined the fight. the degree of familiarity is unclear if not nonexistent.

irreverence regarding his predecessor implies he doesn't know the full history of what went down between Inertia and Bart

may or may not be another clone

gets the shit kicked out of him

it's so frustratingly vague lmao.

so yeah i took that and ran with it to inform Six's traits and backstory: The "they" who gave him the costume becoming CRAYDL, the other Six's, (and Project Inertia more generally). His height because he's slightly older than the previous Inertia was.

Follows-up on the previous Inertia's antagonism with only vague knowledge of what actually happened. Underestimates Bart's feelings on the topic. Joins up with Superboy Prime, not because of loyalty or familiarity but because going solo is what killed the old guy. Irreverent, uncommitted, overconfident. Tends to get the shit kicked out of him.

and then to follow up on this fight, Six's "first" meeting with Bart becomes his own weird revenge quest over that one time Bart kicked his ass. mostly just wanted the closure there, and for Six to have held a grudge about it for literal centuries bc it is funny 2 me.

my motivation for writing Frequency came from a frustration at the contradictory/unexplained/unexplored plot points and storylines specifically surrounding Thad/Inertia, this whole thing being a major one. At its most basic, Frequency is just my attempt to weave the disparate elements of canon into a cohesive narrative.

#asks #reversedumbrella #got carried away with this one lmao i just #i still dont know why this new guy showed up or what he was even doing there #its gonna eat at me forever #the multiple clones theory is a very convenient explanation that nonetheless remains fanmade #frequency fic

[waters-and-the-wilde]

hehe scenario. jupeter coming out the other side of All That with a bit of 'wow you're just straight up a bit codependent but maybe that's actually the best-case scenario for you right now carry on fellas'

oh they've Had Their Talk in the aftermath, and, okay, it's agreed that they are Not Doing Romance because Nureyev needs Time To Grieve and it would be better to Take The Pressure Off Of Being In A Relationship and they will Reevaluate when Nureyev's had a chance to be a guy who doesn't have to worry about where his next meal is coming from. but also Like Hell is Juno just going to Leave Him Alone after all this. and the result is that they spend the Big Crash just. completely unhinged about each other. Nureyev's shot past 'feeling vulnerable around Juno scares the shit out of him' and well into 'raw nerves and gaping wounds and compound trauma and feeling vulnerable about literally anything and everything all the time and being around Juno is integral to not spiraling into the abandonment hell vortex'. meanwhile Juno's like 'holy shit Nureyev is letting me be there for him. this is already incredible progress'

u think they were insufferable on the Carte Blanche well. on the Carte Blanche Nureyev was still working on things like trusting Juno enough to let him back in at all and he Had An Image To Maintain and lots of Private Stuff to Deal With and Juno was still figuring out how not to be a prickly ass all the time and 'when is it appropriate to give your bf his space when your default mode is to Investigate Shit' and none of that is a going concern right now

'sometimes you gotta be a little bit mentally ill to handle the mental illness' they have so much separation anxiety and they are clipping their carabiners together. hooking pinky fingers and following each other when one needs to do something in the next room. where's Nureyev? sitting in Juno's lap again. his ass is experiencing 'nervous system doesn't know how to respond to the sudden removal of constant crushing dread and just goes fucking haywire at unpredictable intervals'. he gets random-ass panic attacks and there's only so much the breathing exercises and the grounding exercises and self-soothing techniques can do compared to 'Juno is here and he's fine and he's safe and he is more than happily providing prolonged physical contact' to get him to calm down on a physiological level

meanwhile Juno's like 'i chased this idiot across half the galaxy because he wouldn't ask for help and had to deal with him being all stone-faced and cold about it, do I look like i mind that he's clingy now? a lady does not need his personal space at this time. a lady is living for this. a lady is also maybe feeling clingy have u considered that'

everyone who isn't rita (idek who. melee? the other vivopolis refugees??) is assuming they are just getting a very bad grade in taking it slow and are barely humoring them about it. and neither bothers with denying the boyfriend allegations but it's not bc it's true it's they're just. too exhausted to get defensive about it

rita: and i mean they ain't actually smooching too loud in the kitchen or whatever

melee probably: he just came out of Juno's room wearing Juno's shirt

juno: he's a thief that's his shirt now

(12 hours earlier:)

nureyev: (shows up to juno's room at 3am) im sorry for waking you i had nightmares about [the bomb/the carte blanche raid/dokana capturing you] i just needed to see that you were alive and make sure im in the reality timeline and then i will go back to-

juno: get in loser we're watching bad cops

rita: hi mista' n do you want some of this blanket

nureyev: that's very kind but im afraid im

juno: yeah hold up he's like really sweaty im gonna get him a clean shirt

nureyev: you really don't need to-

juno: how are you even still standing up when you're shaking like that

nureyev: that is. an excellent question

juno: anyway welcome to the club i fired rita like an hour ago bc i had nightmares about her dying on the asteroid

rita: i had one where i was gettin chased by this big stompy plant monster with lotsa teeth and i had to distract it by throwing all my snacks behind me and then i was outta snacks and then i was up getting more snacks when mista' steel fired me

rita: you know i think only reason i ain't got separation anxiety about mista' steel is because we spent all that time in the ruby together while we were chasin' after you and that gets a gal over it real fast

juno: thanks rita :P

#good morning i am once again committing my little scenarios #hypothetical denouement nonsense #this is not even remotely legit speculation i am just saying words recreationally #the penumbra podcast #juno steel #peter nureyev

[agaypanic]

Hey! Could you do Charlie Swan x wife fem!reader where she own a bakery and they first met there (sort of flashback) and their journey through their relationship. And please add Bella (as someone nice & she accept her). Tag me later! Thank :)

Black Coffee and a Bagel (Charlie Swan X Baker!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Chief Swan coming into your bakery for breakfast one day turns into a life full of love, baking, and coffee.

A/N: this took forever to write holy shit. i usually dont add the word count to the actual fic, but i feel like i should tell yall this is over 5k words… when i read the twilight books (its been so hard getting through them bc they’re lowkey boring guys…) i envision charlie as billy burke but with kinda curly hair bc that’s what he has in the books, so that’s how he looks in this lol reader’s age isn’t specified so she can be read as charlie’s age or younger (legal obvi). maybe a bit ooc charlie but idc

***

It was a usual cloudy day in Forks, Washington. Like most other town residents, you didn’t really mind the gloomy weather. As long as your heaters worked and you had a decent jacket, you didn’t really care.

You were always the busiest in the morning. You owned a bakery in the middle of town, the only one open at six in the morning. Almost everyone came through your shop for breakfast or a drink before heading to work or school. 

But every now and then, you had a first-time customer.

The bell above your front door jingled, and you heard footsteps enter with a bit of hesitancy. You looked up from the espresso machine you were cleaning to see a man with curly dark hair, a mustache, and a badge.

“Chief Swan,” you smiled, moving to the counter. He was looking around the bakery with mild curiosity. “Haven’t seen you here before.”

“Yeah, I uh… I forgot to grab a coffee before I left the house.” He sounded like he was a bit embarrassed by his mistake. Then he finally looked up, chocolate brown eyes locking with yours. “And a lot of people talk about this place, so I figured it’d be a good opportunity to check it out.”

“Well, I’m glad to have you here. Welcome to Bear Claw Bakery.” You smile at him, maybe a bit too cheerfully for how early in the morning it was, but it was all part of your brand. Seeing such a handsome face also helped. “I can make any coffee you’d like.”

“I can see that.” Chief Swan said, gesturing to the convoluted drink menu on the wall behind you. He seemed a bit intimidated by all the choices.

“How about a black coffee?” He lit up, seemingly relieved by your suggestion.

“Yes, please. Large.”

As you made his coffee, you fell into a comfortable silence. You became focused on his drink, and he decided to peruse your display cases of baked goods. After all, this was a bakery.

“See anything you like?” You ask as you put the lid on his cup, remembering to add a sleeve so he wouldn’t burn his hand.

He hummed, staring at a tray of bagels for a few seconds before looking at you. He straightened up, pointing to the baked goods.

“Could I get a bagel? Plain.” 

“Of course!” You slid the glass door open and grabbed a bagel with your tongs, putting it in a goody bag and folding the top a few times. Chief Swan watched you for a small moment before fumbling for his wallet, keeping his eyes on the counter in front of him. You watched him pull out a bill and waved your hand. “Oh, no. On the house.”

“What?” He looked up at you in surprise, and you just smiled at him.

“Think of it as a first-time discount.” You shrug as you push his coffee and bagel towards him. 

He folded the bill but didn’t put it back in his wallet. Instead, while maintaining eye contact, he dropped it into the tip jar beside him.

“Thanks, uh…” He said as he pocketed the wallet and grabbed his coffee. It was then that you realized that he didn’t know your name.

“Oh! Y/n.” You stuck your hand out without thinking. But before you could pull it back, he shook your hand with a polite smile. “And you’re obviously Chief Swan.” You said with an airy laugh.

“Please, call me Charlie.” He punctuated his name by squeezing your hand before letting go. There was a softness to his tone that you didn’t suspect, but you enjoyed it.

“Charlie,” you repeated, liking the sound of it. “I hope you like the coffee and the bagel.”

He nodded once, grabbed the goody bag still on the counter, and left with a small wave. You didn’t have much time to think about the interaction because a group of high schoolers soon came in, chattering loudly about different things. One thing you knew for sure, though, was that you hoped he’d be back sometime soon.

***

You were surprised to see Charlie back at the bakery the next day. You were unlocking the front door when he pulled up next to your car in his police cruiser.

“Right on time.” You laughed as he exited the car. “I’m just starting to open.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know your hours,” he said, checking his watch. The sun was barely starting to peek out from the clouds. “I have to go to the station early today, was hoping I could get coffee and a bagel.”

“Of course! Come on in,” you say, holding the door open just long enough for him to catch as you rush to behind the counter.

You started on Charlie’s coffee before going to the back to get a bag of fresh bagels. At the front, he was leaning against the counter, waiting for you.

“So I’m guessing you liked it?” You asked with a smile as you bagged up a bagel for him, putting the rest in the display case. “The coffee and bagel? Since you came back.” You added after a moment of silence.

“Oh, yeah!” He said, sounding as if he was a bit distracted by something. “Both were delicious.”

“I’m glad.” You placed his bagel and coffee on the counter.

“Now I’m hoping to actually pay this time,” Charlie said, raising his brows, and you couldn’t help but giggle. You told him the total, and when you gave him his change, he dropped it into the tip jar. “Thanks again. And sorry for coming so early.”

“It’s no problem, Chief-” You cut yourself off, receiving a knowing look from him. “Charlie. It’s really no problem. Hope you have a good day.” 

“Same to you, Y/n.” 

Charlie grabbed his things, waved at you, and walked out. After watching him drive away, you continued to open the bakery for the day. As you served the people coming in, you wondered if Charlie’s coming in would become a regular occurrence. Deep down, you hoped so.

***

Charlie Swan coming to the bakery became a daily habit. It pleased you not only because you were proud to have such a loyal customer, but also because the man was handsome and very nice, despite his usual awkward demeanor. He’d be one of the first people to come in, or the first if he had to go to the station early. You always savored the small talk you shared with him, silently begging for no one to come in when he talked because then he’d stay a little longer, no matter how many times he said that he should really be going.

You were really starting to like Charlie Swan, both as a friend and something more. Of course, you kept that part to yourself.

“Black coffee and a bagel.” It was more of a statement than a question as Charlie opened the door. He ordered the same thing every day; honestly, you admired his consistency.

“Yup.” He responded, pulling out his wallet before he even reached the counter. “Oh, by the way, I was wondering if you did like, deliveries? Or something like that?”

“Depends.” You answer. “I do catering and delivery for parties and stuff.”

“Ah,” Charlie clicked his tongue, seeming a little disappointed. “Was just wondering because I’ve been having to work a lot of late nights with all those bear attacks.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard a bit about those,” you sighed. “Poor people.”

“Yeah, I know. And anyways, if I’m being honest, your coffee’s better than the stuff we have at the station. But I get it if you don’t do that sort of thing.”

“I can do it!” You decide before even thinking about it. But when you gave it some thought, you remembered that you were the boss. If you went while one of your employees was working, they could surely hold down the fort for the ten minutes you’d be gone. “I, um, I can do that for you.”

“Really?” Although his expression didn’t change much, you could tell that Charlie’s eyes were lighting up. He must’ve really loved your coffee.

“Yeah! Perks of being your own boss.” You laugh, grabbing a piece of paper and writing down your number. “We don’t have a phone for the bakery yet; I just keep forgetting to do that. So this is my number.” You slid the paper over to Charlie, who grabbed it without letting his eyes leave you. “Just call me, and it’ll probably take me five to ten minutes to get to the station. We close at nine, but I stay way later than that most nights, so feel free to call whenever.”

Charlie pocketed the piece of paper like it was a precious item he didn’t want to get wrinkled or crumpled. 

“I’ll do that,” he said, reaching for his breakfast. “I’ll see you later, Y/n.”

“See you later, Charlie.” You watched him leave, and once he was out the door, you finally realized that you had just unabashedly given the cute Chief of Police your phone number. Telling him to call you anytime. 

And he did. At around eight that night, you got a call from an unknown number, and a somewhat groggy Charlie was speaking on the other end.

“Y/n?” He asked, as if he was unsure whether or not you had actually given him your number.

“Hey, Charlie!” you responded, clearly more awake than him. “Need a coffee?”

“Please.” He sounded desperate, and you were a bit embarrassed by the fact that his tone needed you to take a moment to recompose yourself. The way he said it was a bit whiny, but his voice was husky, probably from his tiredness. A long sigh came from the phone. “I feel like I’m going crazy over here.”

“Then I’ll be over soon.” 

You and Charlie said quick goodbyes to each other, and you went to the counter to make his coffee. You told Maddie, who was working the closing shift with you, that you’d be back soon, but she could lock up without you if needed. Then you were on your way to the police station.

The parking lot was empty except for one cruiser, which you guessed was Charlie’s. Walking into the building to find it empty and dark, aside from an office at the far end, confirmed your suspicions.

“Delivery for Chief Swan.” You say, knocking on his office door, which was cracked open the slightest bit. Charlie looked up at you from his desk, and you wouldn’t be surprised if your presence had awakened him from an unplanned nap. His dark curly locks were a tousled mess, probably the result of his hands constantly running through them, and his eyelids seemed heavy.

“My savior,” Charlie grumbled, sitting up the slightest bit and reaching for the large cup. You stood in silence as you watched him gulp down the hot liquid, wondering how he didn’t immediately stop in pain. You guessed that his fatigue made him immune somehow, or less caring about burning his throat. “Good stuff.”

“Maybe instead of drinking it and scalding yourself, you should head home?” You suggested with a small laugh.

“Too much to do,” Charlie said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Too much going on for me to stop.”

“Well, it’s better to stop before you reach your limit, or you might be stopping for good.”

Charlie thought about what you said with a slight hum. His half-lidded eyes scanned his messy desk, cluttered with reports and other papers. To be completely honest, he was starting to doze off a little by the time you came, and words were starting to jumble together when he tried to read. 

“M’kay.” He sighed, taking another sip of coffee, this time wincing a bit at the heat. “You got a point there.” 

You watched as Charlie somewhat sluggishly got ready to leave. He threw on his jacket and turned off the lights, gesturing for you to leave the office first. When you got to the station’s front entrance, he held the door open for you.

“Thanks for the coffee.” He said after walking you to your car. “And drive safe.”

“Anytime,” you respond, opening the door and getting in the driver’s seat. “And the same goes for you.”

Charlie smiled, patting the top of your car as a farewell before walking over to his cruiser. Although he had turned on his car before you, he didn’t start driving until you left the parking lot.

***

A few months later, you were at your absolute busiest. Graduation was just around the corner, and almost every senior’s parent in Forks called asking if you could cater or do pick up orders for graduation parties. Although it meant your business would be booming for a while, you were slowly losing your sanity.

“Just a second!” You yelled from the back room after hearing the bell above the door ring. Carefully, you slid a large tray filled with cupcakes into one of your fridges and closed the door.

“Take your time!” Charlie yelled back, making you want to be as quick as possible. You wiped your hands on your apron and ran to the front, where Charlie greeted you with a smile. “Hey, Y/n. You busy?”

“Always am,” you laughed, leaning against the counter. “But I always have time for you, Charlie. Black coffee and a bagel?”

“You know me so well.” Charlie watched as you moved around, making his hot drink and picking out a bagel from the stack you had made this morning. “How are things?”

“Hectic.” You answer, rising from your crouched position to bag up the bagel. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle. Almost every parent has been ordering at least seventy-five cupcakes for their kids’ graduation parties, and there’s at least three parties happening every week.” You grabbed Charlie’s coffee, putting a lid on the cup before handing it to him. Despite it being scalding hot, he took a sip while he listened. “I’m grateful, obviously, but if I have to frost another cupcake, I think I’m gonna get carpal tunnel.”

“I forgot graduation parties were a thing,” Charlie said with a slightly embarrassed laugh. “I don’t know if Bella would want one, though; she kind of hates being the center of attention.”

“Well, if she decides to have one, you know who to call for the baked goods.” You say with a smile, taking Charlie’s cash and watching him put the change in the tip jar. You loved the familiarity and routine that you had with Charlie. Every day, he ordered the same thing without fail, asked how you were doing, used a bill that was anywhere between a few dollars more to over twice the amount needed, and put the change he got into your decorated tip jar. 

“I’ll ask her about it.” To most, it looked like Charlie was wearing a straight face. But you could tell that there was a slight upward curve to his lip. “Kinda hoping she says yes. I think it’d be fun.”

“Have a good day, Charlie.”

“Have a good day, Y/n.”

Later in the day, the bakery was crowded. School had just gotten out, and most of the kids came for a little pick-me-up, whether it was some kind of caffeinated drink or a sweet treat. Plus, some parents came by to pick up their party orders.

You didn’t expect to see Charlie in the crowd today, accompanied by a girl who seemed around high school age. You assumed that this was Bella, his daughter.

“Hey, Y/n.” Charlie greeted you once they reached the counter. “Place is packed.”

“Yup! I think finals are just around the corner, so these kids need all the help they can get.” You looked over at the young girl who stood next to Charlie. “Is this your daughter?”

“Yeah. Y/n, this is Bella. Bella, this is Y/n.” You greeted each other before Charlie spoke again. “I asked Bella about the whole graduation party thing, and she said it sounded like fun. So I decided to meet her here on my break so we could set up an order.”

“Awesome!” You grinned, grabbing an order form. Usually, you would be slightly dying on the inside if someone was making an order like this. But there seemed to be something about Charlie that diffused any annoyance or dread you would normally feel. “So, what were you thinking? Cupcakes?”

“Actually, we were thinking of a cake.” This answer made you perk up. Bella nodded, confirming the decision, which you quickly jotted down. While the three of you talked, Charlie’s radio on his shoulder sounded. “I gotta take this, I’ll be right back. Bells, just tell Y/n what you want, and I’ll pay for it. And if you want a drink or something, go ahead and order. Oh! Could I get a-”

“Black coffee?” You finished, giving Charlie a knowing smile. His usually pale cheeks seemed to turn pink, but you just chalked it up to the slightly warm and crowded room. “Of course, now go take your call.”

You waved Charlie away, who fought against the small crowd of students to get out of the building. You asked two of your employees to get on the register and start taking orders before turning back to Bella. As you wrote down what she wanted, she spoke somewhat timidly, as if she was saying something that was supposed to be a secret.

“He talks about you sometimes.” You looked at her with slight confusion. “My dad.”

“Oh?” Your heartbeat quickened at the information. It surprised you that Charlie thought of you outside of the bakery, let alone talked about you. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She bit her lip, trying to keep more from spilling. But it didn’t work. “Half of the time, he’s raving about your coffee.”

“It’s just black coffee,” you said with a shrug, flipping the pen around with your fingers to release your giddy energy.

“Yeah, but you’re the one who makes it. And the other half of the time, he’s talking about how nice you are.”

“He thinks I’m nice?” You were glad your employees were taking care of the other customers because you were now completely distracted from the task at hand. Bella nodded, and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Well, I think he’s nice, too.”

“Who’s nice?” You and Bella jumped at Charlie’s surprise return.

“Uhh, no one.” You brushed off, quickly filling out the rest of the paper before turning it around and handing Charlie your pen. “Sign here, and we can get started on the order. Oh, did you want to do pick up or delivery?”

“Delivery,” Bella answered before Charlie could, eyes darting from you to her father. Neither of you opposed, so when you got the paper back, you marked the delivery option.

“Delivery it is.” You said, putting your pen in one of your apron pockets. “Charlie, I’ll get you your coffee. Bella, did you want anything?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” You nodded and quickly made a large black coffee. After checking them out and Charlie putting his change in the jar, you waved goodbye to the two Swans. “See you next week, Bella. And I’ll see you tomorrow, Charlie?”

“Of course.” He said with a smile before guiding Bella out of the shop.

You couldn’t wait to see Charlie Swan again.

***

A week later, you loaded Bella’s finished graduation cake into your car. After telling Maddie you’d be back soon, you got in the driver’s seat and drove to the Swan house. Everyone knew where everyone was in this town, but you still had your eyes glued to your map when they weren’t on the road, too scared to miss a turn. 

Soon, you pulled up to a white two-story house. You were confident that it was Charlie’s place when you saw his police cruiser and a red truck, which must have been Bella’s. There were a few cars scattered up and down the street, but you found a free spot right in front of the cop car. When you got out and grabbed the two-tiered cake, Charlie emerged from the front door.

“Y/n! You made it!” He jogged over to you as you closed the car door with a swing of your hip. “Here, lemme get that for ya.”

“You’re sweet, Charlie.” You carefully handed the cake to him and followed him inside. The place seemed to be packed with teens and their parents. Some stood out, and you knew exactly who they were from their pale complexions and beautiful features.

“Did you wanna stay for a bit?” Charlie asked as he set the cake down on a table. He scratched the back of his head, growing a bit shy. “You, uhh, you could taste your masterpiece. Mingle and stuff.”

“I should probably be getting back to the bakery…” You looked down at your watch. You supposed you could spare a few minutes. After all, you were the boss. Maddie was responsible; she would call you if she had any problems. “Well, I think I could stay a few minutes.”

“Great.” Charlie put on a large grin, one that you had probably never seen before. But it suited him nicely. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

Charlie laid a hand on the small of your back to guide you through the small crowd. You already knew most of the people here, either regulars of yours or having recently become well acquainted with them because of delivery or pick-up orders. But then Charlie took you to a small group of people that you don’t remember every meeting, but you knew of them well.

“Y/n, these are the Cullens.” Charlie introduced. “Doctor Carlisle, his wife Esme, Bella’s boyfriend Edward, and his sister Alice.”

“It’s nice to meet you all.” You said kindly, shaking each hand that reached out to you. Their hands were cold, but that didn’t bother you. It was actually a bit refreshing after having your hands in and out of ovens for the past few weeks.

“Y/n made Bella’s cake,” Charlie said, proudly pointing to your creation on the table. “She owns Bear Claw Bakery. She’s… pretty amazing, at what she does.”

“I see that,” Carlisle said, looking at the cake. “Amazing detail, I bet it looks even better up close. You’re quite talented.”

“All you need is a steady hand.” You said, not used to compliments or attention like this. 

“Well, I know a thing or two about that,” Carlisle said with a laugh. You laughed along, and you couldn’t help but notice Charlie’s hand move to wrap more around your waist.

“Thank you for making Bella’s cake,” Edward said, his voice cool and even. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“She will,” Alice said with finality, as if she had already seen Bella’s reaction to the cake.

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but lean slightly into Charlie; he was just so warm and comfortable. He seemed a bit surprised but didn’t reject your actions. Instead, he welcomed them with a squeeze on your waist. “I was happy to do it, really.”

“Do you want a drink?” Charlie asked, leaning close to you to ask.

“Sure.” As Charlie guided you to the kitchen, you looked over your shoulder at the Cullens. “It was nice to meet you!” They all gave similar and polite responses. And then they were out of view, and you and Charlie were alone in the kitchen.

For a while, you and Charlie stayed in the kitchen, watching people pass by to talk to others or get a refreshment. This was the first time you were around Charlie in a non-professional environment. You were both nervous and ecstatic.

“So, how’d you get into, uh, baking and stuff?” Charlie asked, taking a swig of his beer. You took a sip of your Coke before responding.

“My mom, I think. Every birthday or special occasion, she always insisted on making a giant cake or cupcakes or whatever, instead of buying it from the store. I liked to help her, mainly because she’d let me eat the leftover frosting and pour the batter in the pan.” You leaned on the counter, smiling fondly at the memories that ran through your head. “Even when you’re by yourself, I think it’s really special. I dunno, that’s kind of a sappy answer, but-”

“No, no.” Charlie shook his head before smiling at you. “I think that’s really sweet.”

After a brief moment of eye contact, you both took a sip of your drinks, lifting them to your lips and setting them down simultaneously.

“Are you doing anything this Saturday?” The question surprised you and Charlie, even though Charlie had asked it. But he didn’t take it back. Instead, he waited for a response while anxiously tapping his fingers against his beer bottle.

“Maybe.” You said with a shrug. “Why do you ask?”

“Well…” Charlie’s fingers smoothed over his mustache, which you had noticed to be a habit of his when he was thinking. “I’ve never really baked before, I think. And you make it sound like a lot of fun. So… I dunno, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come over or something, and we could make something?”

“I’d love to.” You said, butterflies filling your stomach. 

“Really?” Charlie seemed relieved by your answer, and you nodded swiftly to solidify it. “Great! Maybe this time, I can make you a coffee.”

“I’d like that a lot.” You took a sip of your Coke to contain your growing smile, but it didn’t help much. Your giddiness was infectious, Charlie feeling the exact excitement you were.

***

When Saturday came, you had an extra pep in your step. You made sure to put a slight bit more effort into your appearance before you left. You knew you didn’t have to impress Charlie in any way, but this felt like a sort of milestone. You were going to spend time with him outside of work, doing one of your favorite activities together.

“Bella’s out with Edward,” Charlie said as he let you into the house. “So we’ll have the house to ourselves.”

“Sounds good to me.” You responded, setting your bag on the kitchen counter and pulling out a recipe card.

“So, what are we making?” He asked, clapping his hands and rubbing them together as he looked over your shoulder.

“Black Forest gâteau.” You answered, looking down at the card and then up at Charlie. He seemed slightly confused, but looked like he didn’t want you to know he was confused. You laughed lightly. “Basically, a chocolate cake with cherry filling.”

“Ah.” Charlie nodded in understanding. “Sounds delicious.”

While you started taking ingredients out of your bag, Charlie made a pot of coffee for the both of you. After pouring himself a plain black coffee, he asked you what you wanted in yours. When he was finished, he handed you the warm mug, and you both simultaneously took a sip. You sighed in delight.

“Delicious.” You said, giving him a wink before turning back to your ingredients. Charlie took another gulp of coffee to hide his flusteredness before moving to stand next to you.

You guided Charlie through the recipe, working together to measure ingredients and mix them. While pouring the batter into a few cake pans, you made light conversation about your days since Bella’s party. After the pans were put in the oven to bake, you made the cherry filling to put between the layers. 

“This is really nice.” You said, slowly dropping down to sit in front of the oven to watch the cake layers bake for the next few minutes. Charlie dried his hands and walked over to you, looking down at you curiously. “Thanks for having me over.”

Charlie crouched next to you and sighed, probably because he wasn’t used to sitting on the floor. He mirrored your position, legs crisscrossed and elbows resting on his knees.

“No problem.” 

The two of you watched the cakes slowly rise through the small oven window. Basking in the quiet and comfortable moment, you couldn’t help but lean over and rest your head on Charlie’s shoulder. 

“This is really nice.” You repeated, albeit quieter, even though there was no need to whisper. Charlie’s head tilted to rest on yours, lifting his bent right leg and planting his foot on the floor to be more comfortable.

“Yeah…” Charlie’s hand drifted towards yours, and in a moment of bravery, you grabbed it and intertwined his fingers with yours. “It is.”

***

Over the next two months, you and Charlie grew closer than you ever thought possible. He still came to the bakery every day for his coffee and bagel. But almost every weekend, you’d go to each other’s house to make some kind of treat, and Charlie always insisted on making coffee for both of you. 

Getting closer to Charlie meant you also got closer to Bella. She was a bit reserved, spending most of her time with her boyfriend and his family. But you were able to make conversation with her whenever you were both at the Swan house. It was usually only a few minutes, the sweet spot where you had arrived and Bella was about to leave. But it was special to you.

You were a bit shocked when you found out that Bella and Edward were getting married in August, just under two months after they had graduated high school. Bella hadn’t even turned nineteen yet. But you knew love when you saw it, and it wasn’t like you had a say on the matter. Bella was grateful, however, for you being able to calm Charlie down when he found out about it.

When she told you she was getting married, Bella asked if you could make the wedding cake. You didn’t even think before saying yes, feeling honored that she wanted you to do it. After some talking, you both decided on a green triple-tiered cake covered in fondant flowers to resemble a meadow.

“You did amazing.” Charlie had snuck up behind you during the reception, the two of you looking at the cake you had worked so hard on.

“Thank you, bear.” You don’t really remember how Charlie’s nickname came about, but it fit him so well that you started to refer to him with the nickname more than his real name. Although you weren’t together, it was said with all the affection and love you held for him.

Music echoed throughout the Cullens’s backyard, where the wedding and reception were held. It was a beautiful forest, lit by fairy lights strung around tall trees. 

“Do you wanna dance?” Charlie asked timidly, looking at the dancefloor littered with people for a moment before returning to you. “I mean, I’m not much of a dancer. But if you want to, I-”

“I’d love to.” You cut him off with a bright smile, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the crowd.

Despite saying he wasn’t a dancer, Charlie moved well. He kept one of your hands in a gentle grip while his other was planted firmly on your waist, radiating warmth. As you listened to the music, you rested your head on his chest, sighing contently. 

“I love you, Charlie Swan,” you said softly, too relaxed and in the moment to keep your filter. You felt Charlie stiffen under you briefly before he, too, relaxed. He held your hand tighter, keeping it to his chest.

“I love you too, Y/n L/n.” You lifted your head just enough to look at him. The soft look he gave you made you weak at the knees, but you found the strength to reach up to kiss him. 

“Alice,” Bella said softly to her new sister-in-law, the two girls watching you and Charlie closely, unbeknownst to you. “Do you think this’ll last? Them, I mean.”

Alice turned to Bella and smiled before looking back at the two of you. You broke apart from the kiss and continued to dance.

“I’ve had the same vision of them since I met Y/n. They get to grow old together.”

“So Charlie will be happy? And Y/n?” Alice placed a comforting hand on Bella’s shoulder, knowing why she was asking these questions. The Cullens knew what Bella wanted, and Bella knew it would probably kill Charlie when she got what she had been chasing after for so long.

“The happiest. Whatever it is they have, it’s special. You won’t have to worry about either of them.”

Bella sighed in relief, patting Alice’s hand.

“Thanks.”

#agaypanic #charlie swan #charlie swan x reader #twilight x reader #twilight

[mixelation]

notes for the absolutely bonkers time line of toxicity (that's reborn au au). note that nothing is actually set in stone because it's derivative of reborn au, which is also not set in stone

i realized i suggested tori deciding to get with obito after the cave incident, but also that in reborn au she's actually already dating itachi when that happens. so consider

tori has been dating itachi for a few months (more if you count when she was dating him unknowingly) (her life is... dumb?)

she gets trapped in a cave by Some Guy and minato bans her from seeking vengeance

in reborn au she gets itachi to go freak out That Guy and is satisfied, but in THIS au everyone is more toxic. she has "destroys village out of affection" on the table as normal human behavior. she wants blood. she deserves blood

tori: can you BELIEVE itachi won't kill a singular guy for me obito: lmao tori is it really that big a deal? just kill him yourself tori: but it was :( tori: a cave :( tori: where i doubted anyone at all would ever help me again :( obito: obito: obito: okay FINE i'll kill him

tori breaks up with itachi specifically to seduce obito

it's an amicable break up. she doesn't tell itachi it's so she can run off with obito, but she's like "look i don't have any problem with helping you shirk your clan duties, but i still want to have my own dating life. lmk if you need something else but i won't be your fake gf" which is an entirely reasonable and mature argument for someone who is about to go after an unstable ex-missing-nin

obito is extremely confused when tori starts coming on to him (she is. not good or subtle at it) but ALSO he's kind of into it. he has a lot of weird feelings about tori but she's the one person who knows all his darkest secrets and he likes having her undivided attention. is she actually into him or is she trying to use him to murder more people? he doesn't care!

anyway i have been trying to figure out how no one intervenes in this or causes, like, some sort of permanent interpersonal fallout. and i remembered @waffliesinyoface and i joking around about toxicity just having its main cast destroy even MORE villages, and what if kushina wrecked suna's shit over gaara. so further consider

kushina goes to suna for some reason. idk maybe they host the chunin exams and they're like "send a representative..... not the hokage...... pls thnx." and she realizes how they're treating gaara and she loses her mind

kushina: SURPRISE I RUINED OUR ALLIANCE WITH AN UNTOLD AMOUNT OF MURDER!!!! kushina: also i kidnapped the kazekage's son. he's ours now kushina: he is deeply emotionally unstable and completely op and has murdered so many suna-nin kushina: but i can fix him. with my love <3 minato: o-oh

i don't think i'll have kushina PERMANENTLY adopt gaara (he has older siblings he can go back to!) but he's definitely in konoha for a hot second. so minato's life is currently

bonus child who is both crazy powerful and also desires to kill

(kushina: (shoving shukaku back in with her bare hands) HE'S FINE)

like the number of people who can handle gaara is. very low. he keeps sending gaara and naruto over to the uchiha compound for "babysitting" (Naruto keeps whining he's too OLD) but it's literally a bunch of A-ranks bc someone's sharingan is on them the whole time. the ushiha massacre 1000% doesn't happen in this time line because people are like "the uchiha are the only ones preventing us from being sand-coffined"

tori just fucking broke the hiraishin, so now he has to worry about the possibility of ANYONE ELSE doing that and killing/ruining everyone/everything he's ever cared about

obito?? decides to date her????

anyway the apparent situation of "obito, a 25 year old, has decided to date a teenager, who he's know since he was in his twenties and she was 12" is like. look, it's bad. but also minato is so tired. everyone else is so tired. obito what if you just...... didn't? please?

tori: but i'm the ultra manipulative seductress villain???

also an anon sent this

Itadei fake dating arc.... No one would even really notice/care since obitori is going on at the same time would they

Deidara doesn't give a shit about the murderous suna child. He killed him before and he'll do it again, okay. However WHY IS OBITO IN HIS APARTMENT ALL THE TIME NOW???

deidara: get her back. GET HER BACK itachi: ?? she had a very sound argument for our break up deidara: YOU'RE JUST COVERING FOR BEING A BAD BOYFRIEND

deidara is convinced tori would be SO easy to re-seduce. she likes good food and getting people to commit crimes for, okay. deidara would have just murdered that guy smh

deidara is going to show itachi how it's done

itachi is pretty sure being gay won't stop his parents from trying to get him to marry someone with a working womb, but maybe it will slow them down? certainly deidara has a good shot at scaring away any perspective dates

itachi and deidara start "dating" and no one gives it a second thought because it's the least insane thing happening right now

#reborn au au: it's gotten sillier

[louscartridge]

Hello, how are you?

I loved your sturniolo fic and was wondering if I could request a fic idea

I was wondering if you could do a Sturniolo Tripets x sister!reader where they are quadruplets and she is on her period and she gets really painful cramps and her brother comfort her and try to make her feel better.

a/n- ANON ILY YOU LIKE SHARE A MIND WITH ME OR SOME SHIT BC IM FR ON MY PERIOD RN OMG ILY!! i feel like some of this is kinda cringy but idk. also im good tyty and ofc you can request!! you can always request unless my requests are closed tysm for this!!

i do not give permission for my fics to be posted claiming to be yours, translated, or posted on another platform without credit

cw- none?

slowly waking up you roll over and turn your phone on. the bright light hurt your eyes so you quickly turned it to the side and turned the brightness down. reading what time it is you groan. you woke up sooner then you usually do.... unless, your on you period. once you realize why you woke up when you did you jumped out of bed and knocked on nicks door a few times before going to the bathroom.

nick tiredly came out of his room rubbing his eye getting used to the light. he didnt know why or who knocked on his door until he heard the bathroom door loudly shut and realized your door was open. he walked over to the bathroom door and lightly knocked on it. “what do you need from the store?” nick knew the drill by now 

“i have pretty much everything i just need some tampons- like the variety thing” 

“ok ill be back”

“what are you guys shouting about?” matt askes nick

“y/n is on her period. i gotta go to the store” nick answers going back to his room to get changed.

matt waited for you to come out of the bathroom sitting against his bedroom door.

“hey matt”

“hey y/n, do you need anything?” 

“food would be great.”

“on it! nick left already by the way.”

before matt went to make you food he woke chris up. matt knocked on chris’s door first to see if he was awake. when he got no answer he opened the door. 

“chris” matt said turning on chris’s light next to his bed. “chris” he said louder shoving his shoulder.

“mmmm what” he groaned. 

“y/n is on her period im gonna make her mac n cheese, nick is at the store, and you! christopher are gonna make her snickerdoodles- nope dont look at the time, your helping”

groaning you turn over on your side. hugging your stuffed animal. your stomach already hurt so bad. you turned music on in an attempt to distract you, but it didnt seem to work. you could always go downstairs and get a heating pad, but your stomach hurt so bad you didnt even wanna move.

as if nick read your mind he came into your room with a bag. 

“hey sweetheart.” he says sitting on the edge of you bed taking somethings out of the bag. “i got your tampons” he says as he puts them on your nightstand. “i also got you some waffles there downstairs in the freezer so just let me know if you want them, and i got you tea and some gummy candy too” he puts your tea and candies next to you on your bed. “oh!” “i also put your heating pad in the microwave, figured if you didnt need it now you will sooner or later.”

“thank you” you replied patting his shoulder in the middle of each word.

“stop-”

“chris dont drop them!”

“oh my god, im not trying to!” 

you laugh as you hear your two brothers down the hall slowly getting louder.

“open the door” matt whispers to chris

“chris dont drop them!” chris mocks. “if i open the door i will drop them!”

“just hold the plate with one hand”

“nick i know you can hear us just open the door!” chris kicks your door stretching out the end of his sentence with a sigh. 

letting them in, nick laughs “okay okay”

“you two make a mess” you joked

“yes but well clean it up.” matt insisted

“you mean y-”

“chris dont even” 

chris changed the subject “i got snickerdoodles! for you!” he sang putting them next to the drink and candy nick got you.

“and i got mac n cheese!” matt sang back putting the bowl on your nightstand. “oh wait and this” matt threw the heating pad on your bed. 

“oh my god!”

“the microwave went off so i assumed you needed it”

“yes thank you thank you!”

watching trevor enter your room, you ask, “can we watch a movie?” you pat your bed giving trevor the ok to go on your bed.

“sure” both nick and matt obliged. nick sat on a bean bag in your room.

“only if i can have some of your candy!” chris shouted, lying next to you.

#chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #the sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos x reader #the sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #the sturniolos x reader #x reader #reader #x you #x yn #x y/n #yn #y/n #ff #fanfiction #fanfic

[gray-ace-space]

Kind of a mini rant for a second but I feel like that Chris Flemming "was anyone going to tell me?" meme in kind of a fuckton of ways since becoming more aware of just how much ace is in my grayace self

that most people find sex very actively appealing a very large amount of the time??? Like they're not just kinda neutral about it as a default???

That most of the times I've thought "I have a crush on this person" it's just been aesthetic attraction the whole damn time???? Like thinking "oooh pretty"/"Oh no, they're hot" is not usually where it stops for people 99% of the time???

That I don't have amazing self control regarding avoiding teenage pregnancy/ abstaining from sex because of a medication/ not cheating/ stupid sexual purity shit that I was adjacent to bc yay deep south, like my controller was apparently just never fucking plugged in, like it's pretty damn hard to loose a game you aren't playing

Most people find nudity very very very appealing? Like they don't neutral to negative about it??? Like not because I think anything inherently negative about their body I'm just less interested in it naked?? Is that even an ace thing or am I just weird???

Tbh I'm not even sure how gray of an ace I even am bc of all this, like I think there's some gray area, like I've felt some quick pangs of sexual attraction I think??? idk??? I thought the other parts were pretty standard before now so idk???

Like I'm sorry for semi ranting and I know everyone kinda has to figure themselves out for themselves and labels are there to help not define, but like do you have any advice for any of this?

my guy (gender neutral). you are ace as hell.

hahaha no but let me go through these point by point so we can compare notes.

"most people find sex very actively appealing a very large amount of the time" - is that true??? are we sure that's real??

"most of the times I've thought "I have a crush on this person" it's just been aesthetic attraction" - well i get very strong romantic crushes but. any time i say someone is hot i just mean they look cool and i wanna look at them a bunch. maybe some sensual attraction gets mixed in and i like, wanna touch them as well, non-sexually. so. definitely feel u on that

"I don't have amazing self control regarding..." - YEAH. THAT. YEAH. (i was not really deep in the purity culture stuff but as a young teen i was like. what the hell is wrong with everyone. can't they be normal like me)

"Most people find nudity very very very appealing?" - i honestly quite like nudity in a completely not sexual way, just like a body positivity way. maybe it's cause my mom raised me to not be weird about nudity, it's very chill to me and i think most people are beautiful. but i do not have a connection in my brain between nudity and sexual attraction. i do not care. not once in my life have i looked at someone i liked and thought "oh i would like to see them naked". so, is it an ace thing? probably yes

"I'm not even sure how gray of an ace I even am" - this is probably the one where we most diverge because i do actually feel strong enough sexual attraction that i can't mistake it for anything else. it's just that, i think i'm demisexual. so it's for like. 5 people. ever.

are you gray or not? who the hell knows. maybe ur dark gray ace, maybe i'm light gray ace. but i relate to a lot of what you said! it's fucking wild to unpack this stuff. i do not understand allos at all. i'm glad we can agree on that.

#og post #asks #community #questioning #ace #gray ace #acespec #demi ace #light gray ace #dark gray ace #lgbtq+ #lgbtq #lgbt+ #asexual #graysexual #gray asexual #demisexual #light graysexual #dark graysexual #long post

[1800-page-not-found]

Oooo ok genshin females (mostly Lisa and beidou) with a flirty s/o who just DIES when someone flirts back like s/o is like “uh…I’m…um..well..”

you guys i havent played genshin during the whole 3.7 update lmfao 😍

its summerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

I'll do Lisa, Beidou, and Yae Miko x reader

fyi i dont know how to flirt bc i personally dislike relationships irl so i searched this shit up. im aromantic but fictional characters are just so pretty

this also adds to the fact that im street stupid (but im academically smart tho trust me bro)

i lied im not going to use pickup lines i searched up online and theyre actually horrendous

"Lisaaaaa!" you smiled.

You were Lisa's library assistant, and the two of you were organizing new books while the library was closed.

"Yes cutie?" You laughed, "Me? cute? no way! If anything, I'd say youre the absolute cutest!"

It was quite hard to think straight after someone as pretty and perfect as Lisa complimented you.

"A-anyway," you stuttered, "could you help me sort out these books? I dont know where these go..."

You picked up some books from the delivered box full of books and started flipping through the pages trying to determine what genre the book was. It was hard determining if the book was fiction or non-fiction considering the bizarre events that happened in teyvat. You also didn't notice the quiet advancement of lisa's figure walking up to you.

"These go in the fiction section cutie." she whispered in your ear.

"R-right!"

You shot up and dashed to the other side of the library where all the other fiction books were. It was quite hard flirting with lisa, she'd always beat you to it, flirting with you at every waking moment and possibility. Today however, things were going to change!-

"You didn't think a carved wooden duck could actually be the former dendro archon and sang as a duck did you?" lisa teased you to the brink of embarrassment.

Thank barbatos that there was no one in the library.

"Well, I didn't finish reading it! Yeah!" you shot back, face buried in your hands as you blushed.

You were always unable to flirt with lisa without getting flustered as you could always count on her flirting back but well, more flirtatiously. Hmm...Maybe you were doing this on purpose?...

~~~~~~~~~~

As you walked around the city of liyue, you were spacing out as the day slowly became night. Your trail of thoughts stopped after you felt a hand tap your shoulder.

"[name]!" Ah, it was beidou. "Whatcha' thinkin' about?!" She laughed, bottle of alcohol in hand.

You assumed she got drunk from a dinner party or something, after all it was a bit odd seeing the captain on land.

"Ah, I was thinking about you darling~" You smiled at her, giving a smooth wink.

"Hahaha!" She laughed whole heartedly.

"Whaaat?" You playfully frowned. "Can I not think about someone as charming as you?" You gave her a grin.

"Nice to know you think I'm charming!" she laughed again, but then suddenly she snaked her arms around your waist, and slyly smiled.

"W-what are you doing?!" You blushed and used one of your hands to cover her eyes. "S-stop looking at me like that!!"

Beidou laughed as she peeled your hand off her face and held it while her other hand was busy holding you.

"You're all talk and no bite when it comes to flirting hmm?~" she started to slur her words. "Betcha' didn't think I would do this did you~"

She smiled and shrugged. "What can I say? You really thought flirting like that to me wouldn't make me fall for you? You have quite the charm, give yourself some credit!"

~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh my, [name], I didn't expect seeing you here~" yae miko hummed as she sat down next to you in Uyuu Restraunt, eyeing the many empty bottles of sake around you as you slumped down on the table.

"Hmmm?" You drowsily turned your head (which was still lying on the table if I may add) to face her. eyes widening you struggled to sit straight. "Ah! its the suuuuuper pretty fox shrine lady! When we met for the first time, I just couldn't keep my eyes off you! Your name is um...its uh..." You paused, lost in thought.

"Silly [name], we're dating already. I can't believe you forgot me..." Her ears flopped down and you panicked.

"N-no! I didn't forget-your name is...its y-yae miko right? Please don't be sad!"

"Awe, so you did remember!" She smiled at you, seeing your eyes sparkled looking at her rather cute and fluffy ears. "Do you wanna pet me? Hmm?" As she leaned in closer, you started to blush as she picked up your hands and placed it on her ears.

"Ohmygosh-their so soft!!" you said excitedly.

This however, allowed yae miko to slowly close the distance between your faces, until your noses were practically touching. Unfortunately for you however, it was too late to realize as yae miko planted a kiss on your lips.

Like some cliché excited cartoon highschooler that got asked out on a date with their crush, you fell onto the ground and rolled around like a ball, kicking your feet. "Ah!~The super pretty shrine lady kissed me! Ahehehehe!!" you blushed

Yae miko could only smile at your antics while drunk. "How cute..." She muttered under her breath.

Later on, she bridal style carried you home.

~~~~~~~~~~notes

some of you guys got hella concerning usernames (you know who you are)

are you guys even real or

#yae miko x reader #beidou x reader #lisa x reader #yae miko #beidou #lisa #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin

[thorarms]

Thor is banished, stripped of his powers, and forced to live in Midgard for many years. What kind of life do you think Thor would built on Earth?

Aaaaaa this is such a fun question!!

Short answer is im not so sure lol

Longer more rambling answer full of personal headcanons under the cut :)

I mean, i presume this is after loki visits thor on earth and lies to him about frigga forbidding him from returning. Im also working under the assumption that thor doesnt actually hear from anyone from his old life again, because adding them in doesnt really feel in the spirit of the question imo.

Short term we know from canon that he feels directionless and initially focuses his energy on helping jane with her research. Thors a smart guy, and could probably help jane fill in some of the blanks in her research before she has observational evidence of like, asgard existing.

I think initally he would crash with jane, and would look into getting his own place, probably in new mexico because he's started making connections there.

Personally i headcanon that thors lightning powers manifest as a sixth sense, in that he would be able to sense electricity around him (kind of like how some sharks do with ampullae of lorenzini). So i reckon that losing that specific sense would initally be really hard to adjust to, but he would adjust.

*note. This is about where i searched "what is there to do in new mexico" because all i know about the place are it's in a thor movie and the roswell thing happened there also i kinda wanna go hiking and stargazing in new mexico now*

Honestly i think that, early on at least, thor would spend a lot of free time stargazing, partly from homesickness and partly bc apparently new mexicos an amazing place to do that. I think he would spend most nights looking up at the stars wondering if his loved ones are looking down at him.

He would probably initally make ends meet doing some sort of manual labour, maybe something with horses. He might not have asgardian strength anymore but hes still a pretty big guy. He could probably still tame a wild horse if he really wanted to (i dont know how strong you have to be to do that).

In terms of like, long term life goals, im not entirely sure. Thors entire life up to this point was about assuming the throne, and now he has to not only let the past 1000 years ago, he has to build an entire new life from the ground up. I think what would be especially challenging is the lack of time (assuming he's been turned mortal and only has like 50-60 years left). I think that realisation would force him to look inwards and figure out what he really wants in life.

To me, thor at his core is a good man. He likes helping people. He needs that sense of purpose. I think he would end up building quite a charitable life for himself. Maybe he moves, maybe he stays in new mexico, truly i have no idea. But i think at the core of his life is the need to do honest, meaningful work that benefits people.

I hope you find this an interesting answer! It feels like such a ramble of ideas (truly my brain is not working today i cant organise my ideas for shit rn). This was really fun to think about i spent a lot of time in work thinking about this, tysm for asking this!! :)

#ask #obviously loki doesn't really feature in this bc the whole idea is thor never sees his family again #but personally id headcanon that loki absolutely keeps tabs on thor and his new life #and very occasionally interfers in a way thor cant notice

[itsjaywalkers]

suffering horrendous nothing happens withdrawals, heart getting weaker, legs getting numb, sweat running down my back etc etc do you have any headcanons or something to help me during this difficult time 😔

(only if you feel like it ofc lovey)

OF COURSE I HAVE HCS NONNIE.. I'M ALWAYS THINKING ABOUT THEM.. and i'm more than happy to share them with u mwah!!

james' first time happened when he was 16 with this girl a couple of years older than him, they never dated it was simply a hookup. but reg's first time is with james when he's 17 (and james 19) <3 while he's dating barty too <3

funnily enough.. this happening is actually barty's fault..

james ruins more than a few friendships over regulus and all the shit he does for/bc of him (he doesn't care)

there's a scene with james and lily after he catches he and reg making out . very heavily . and i'm so fucking excited to write it bc their lil convo is everythingggg to me

barty and pandora dated briefly when he first joined their friend group. and then barty dated reg. and he ends up with evan at some point. which is somehow hilarious to me bc he saw this lil group of freaks and he was like . yeah i'm fucking all of them . AND HE DID

james gets in a physical fight with one of reg's bfs (rabastan) and actually sends him to the hospital

mary never forgives james about the emma thing, so their friendship remains tense and . kinda bitter . after he and emma break up

effie and monty absolutely adore reg as a person but . they don't like him for james bc they don't like the kind of person james turns into when he's with reg (this changes with time obviously and this is not all on reg, james is half to blame at the very least but that's their son etc)

everyone at reg's school think he's dating james (mostly during his last 2 years) and he never corrects them

despite barty being the person james hates the most . his least fav of reg's bfs is benjy simply bc he's actually a nice guy and really good for reg (it also doesn't help that sirius loooooves him)

reg makes a habit of picking up james' phone when they're hanging out and james' current gf calls and being . as ambiguous about what they're doing as possible on purpose

james catches him at some point but finds it soooo funny and sooooo endearing that he allows it. kinda encourages it even

james mentions in part 2 of nothing happens that he doesn't think sirius knows about he and reg sharing a bed so often bc he'd confront him about it but sirius Does Know bc he has seen them a couple of times when he has a nightmare and goes to look for his brother

he's not a fan. hates it even. but he'd never tell reg how or where to seek comfort so he's never mentioned it and simply pretends it's not a Thing at all

evan's always been Team James simply bc he was jealous when reg and barty dated and secretly wanted them to break up so bad

pandora however................. she stops being james' fan at some point in the story and even after they figure their shit out . her friendship with him is never the same

when it comes to james' friends, i'm pretty sure the only ones rooting for reg are lily and peter. like.. not even sirius and that's literally his brother lmao

james and reg's relationship stays mostly platonic at all times (except they never actually act like friends but u get what i mean) but when either or both of them are dating someone . the jealousy and possessiveness jump out and suddenly they're making out + fucking any chance they get

reg shows off all the hickeys james leaves when james is dating someone, but does his best to cover them when james is single (or he is dating someone)

james never hides the marks reg leaves tho.. mostly bc he isn't self-aware about the cheating and he's never ashamed of what he and reg do

and i think i'm gonna stop there bc this has already gotten long enough.. i have another post with some hcs somewhere in the tag tho i case u wanna check those up too!!

#asks #anons #fic series: nothing happens

[bunnakit]

taking this gif from my recent Bake Me Please set and talking about it bc every time i see it i feel so much.

like, i know Guy is doing some awful, petty, stupid shit right now but this is one of the moments in the show where it became obvious to me that he adores Peach. he loves Peach so fucking much. you can almost hear the hitch in his breath as he looks up.

he probably wondered if he'd ever see Peach again, if their paths would ever cross or if they said goodbye forever - if Peach condemned him just like Shin did. so he bumps into a stranger, looks up to apologize, and suddenly his heart is in his throat because it's Peach. Peach is here, in front of him, and he looks good, he looks happy and-

oh. Shin. Shin is here too. he spares the barest glance in Shin's direction before he looks back at Peach again, his affection overflowing from his eyes. he looks at Peach like Peach hung the moon and all the stars.

Poom Phuripan has made such a fan of me from the way he acts with his eyes, the amount of quiet emotion he conveys. i love quiet emotions, i love the character that's holding it together for as long as he can only to inevitably fall apart when it all becomes too much.

we see Guy go from this playful, teasing, but still endlessly comforting man, and then we watch his heart break in real time because even while Peach denies his affection towards Shin Guy knows the truth. how? because from the moment Peach walked through that bakery door he never stopped looking at him, never took his eyes off Peach.

and the thing is, he doesn't do it in a Nice Guy way. he truly befriends Peach, cares and listens to his concerns, offers advice, is there for him even when the subject at hand hurts him.

the complexity of Guy as a character and the narrative they've set up around him in just 4 episodes has made me fall so in love with him. i know Shin and Peach are end game, i know Guy isn't going to get his love, and honestly? i don't know that i want Guy to end up with anyone else (even Oab.) i love this picture of hopelessly devoted Guy, Guy who knows the truth but can't help but try because his love for Peach burns a hole in his chest and the pain of losing his best friend (all because he dared to strive for his dream) sits like a lead weight in his stomach.

and i think Guy needs to learn who he is. he's spent so long in Shin's shadow i don't think Guy knows who he is when he's on his own. i think he needs time to explore, branch out, discover more of the world around him, and figure out who Guy the Man is, rather than Guy the Baker, Guy: Shin's Shadow.

again, what he did is shit. what he's doing isn't great, but maybe Shin needs that reminder that what he has is precious, that what Peach has given him is something others would fight to have. and maybe he's lashing out in his hurt; he's lost so much in such a short span of time just because he wanted out from Shin's shadow.

idk. i just think Guy is a really interesting character, i'm obsessed with Poom's acting, and i cannot fucking WAIT for My Stand In.

#bake me please #bake me please the series #poom phuripan #bunn meta #absolutely making a poom/guy gifset when the show wraps up

[akucat]

12am

❥ synopsis: akutagawa shows up to your door at midnight, you’re half naked, he’s wounded and ... is he nervous?

❥ note: ok i found this in my drafts and decided i might aswell finish it bc i still think the idea is rly cute , hope u like it !

❥ pairings: akutagawa x reader

❥ word count: 1.1k

❥ genre / warnings: mentions of blood and wound (just mc cleaning aku’s wound)

Stepping out of the shower, you immediately missed its warmth as the coolness of the bathroom flushed against your bare skin. You reached for the towel you had priorly placed on the vanity just before loud, rapid knocks from your front door echoed throughout the apartment.

Silently cursing to yourself, you made a swift attempt to dry your body off, wrapping the towel around your figure before making way to the door. Your first thought had been Shit. Has my address been leaked? Is someone here to kill me? But then you thought of the more rational answer- Chuuya was over for drinks.

In any other situation, you would have quickly gotten dressed or had just made your unknown guest wait outside till you were ready to greet them, but then the knocks got louder, more desperate, and in frustration you decided Fuck it. If this annoying shit thinks they can bang on my door at midnight then they don’t deserve to see me dressed up! Plus, if your suspicions were true and it were Chuuya, you knew he’d only shoot you a confused look and leave it at that. 

You turned the door handle and pulled it open, beginning to berate the person who you hoped was Chuuya, “You know it IS midnight right? What kind of desperate fool knocks at a lady’s door at midnight? -oh.. you’re not Chuuya.”

Akutagawa, the black-fanged hell hound, your superior, was at your door. To say he stood awkwardly was an understatement, he looked uncomfortable just as much as you looked surprised.

Before you had the slightest chance to process anything, you watched as his eyes widened and Oh. Right. I’m half naked. Ryunosuke fucking Akutagawa is at my front door and I am half naked.

“You’re...”

“Yes, I’m half naked,” You had to fight to urge to not jab yourself in the side. It was only then, in your sheer embarrassment, had you realised he had specs of blood on his forehead.

Was that why he was here?

“Just come inside, quickly,” you ushered him inside, motioning him to take a seat on the sofa. Quickly half-running to your bedroom, you threw on the first shirt and sweatpants you could find, grabbing a clean towel to dab up any of Akutagawa’s blood.

Before making you way to him, you searched the drawers of your bathroom vanity for whatever you could find that could possibly help sterilise a wound, because he is here for the wound, right? After finally having found some anti-bacterial ointment and a guaze you hoped would be big enough for whatever wound Akutagawa had, you headed back to the sofa where he was sitting.

“Sorry, I really did think you were Chuuya-”

“y/n, I don’t care, just-” 

“Yep, fix you up. Got it,” Sighing, you took a seat next to him and gently lifted his hair from his forehead to get a good view of the wound. You were no medical professional but it didn’t look that bad, a small hit to the head but nothing that The Ryunosuke Akutagawa couldn’t handle himself. Nonetheless, you dabbed at his forehead with the towel to clean the blood, proceeding with applying the ointment.

You noticed he avoided eye contact with you, not that you thought it odd or anything I mean the guy was an enigma, and you didn’t really blame him either, you were awfully close to him.

Wait, shit, I AM really close to him.

At the sudden realisation that wow, I’m cleaning my superior’s wound in complete silence in my apartment after he showed up at midnight and I was half naked and wow this is extremely awkward, but also weirdly intimate, you decided you were done working on his wound and if it turned out to be anything serious you were sure Mori would assign a plethora of the mafias best doctors to him. 

“And done,” you exclaimed, glad to finally be finished, even if you sorta half-assed it, after all he did show up to your house at midnight, he shouldn’t be expecting an award winning procedure. You allowed yourself to finally relax, leaning against the sofa as you admired your handiwork. Akutagawa didn’t even move, he just sat still with his hands awkwardly placed on either of his thighs, staring into the floor. 

“I didn’t-,” He started, before shakily exhaling, “I didn’t come here for you to tend to the wound, I just... happened to come here after a job.”

“Oh,” Shit, “I’m so sorry Akutagawa I just really thought that’s the only reason why you’d ever come here so I assumed- and you know I was half naked and was just really embarrassed and I didn’t- I’m sorry, I should’ve asked what you wanted, as your subordinate, and-”

“y/n.”

“Yes?” Your body was rigid, turned so you were facing him front-on. You watched as he did, well, nothing, clasping his hands between his legs and if it wasn’t obvious before, he really did not want to look at you.

Sighing, you decided you finally had enough of his antics, “Akutagawa, why are you here?”

You swore you heard him mumble a small fuck it before straightening himself, turning so you were now face to face and oh my god he is so close to me.  

“I wanted to ask if you, wanted to, um, go on a date?” You had no idea what you looked like but you were certain it was an embarrassing image, your cheeks warming with what you hoped wasn’t blush, struggling to not let your jaw fall to the ground. Apparently your lack of a response distressed Akutagawa because he was quick to begin rambling, “Well I told Gin I thought you were pretty, and she told me I should tell you and that if I didn’t she’d tell you, and I know she was probably lying but I thought I should tell you anyways because-”

“Akutagawa, it’s okay, we can go on a date,” You watched him with your lips turned so far upwards your cheeks were beginning to ache, “but you’re also really cute when you ramble so please, call me pretty again?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, I’m just teasing you!” His cheeks and nose were flushed pink and you had to physically restrain the urge to double over with laughter. 

“You’re forgetting I’m your superior-”

“And you’re forgetting that you came knocking at my door at midnight because you just couldn’t resist me! Oh my god you’re so lucky, you’ve already seen me half-naked! Before our first date!”

You noticed him quirk his lips up in the quickest of seconds, and oh you could definitely get used to this.

#akutagawa bsd #Akutagawa #akutagawa x reader #akutagawa x you #akutagawa x y/n #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd headcanons