#i can’t stand ignorant people or someone who blatantly doesn’t give a fuck about anyone but themselves

[stargazeraldroth]

You can’t hear it but I let out the most disgusted sound at the thought of… Eugh. MATH. Just the thought leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Anyways, nothing wrong with laziness! It’s good to take some time to yourself to relax and decompress, if you need to- And hell, sometimes the executive dysfunction just gets to you. I know it gets to me.

Error sees Ink having a good time and decides that it can’t fucking stand while he’s around to Cause Problems and Wreck Shit. It’s definitely angst central for Ink either way, though- Never even got to confess, the poor guy. And hey, don’t we all need a little bit of therapy?

As you should have! Gin is a soft boy and a good guy, and I, for one, think even his visual chemistry alone with Ink is incredible… I love the two of them a lot, haha.

Mutually supportive Cross and Ink is my everything… I imagine that it really hit them that they’re healing from everything once Ink lends Cross his scarf (which is deeply important to him, what with all the things he’s written on it), or maybe even Broomie, and Cross let’s him wear his coat or his scarf and bundles him up like a lil burrito. Just. Soft Oreo bros owns my heeeaaart-

Oh, he definitely won’t be the best- Glitchy boy is awkward at best and wildly unqualified to provide comfort in this scenario at worst- But I’d like to think he gets an A for effort or something, you know? Even if he. Uh. Accidentally upsets Ink with Blue and Dream puppets.

Corrupted or Fallen Stars can be great… In theory. But sooo often they’re just flipped with the Bad Sans, and! That can be a fun idea in and off itself, if it’s in the concept of something that it blatantly a roleswap AU! But it normally isn’t, and it just ends up grating on me- Hell, off the top of my head, I can tell you semi-passable reasons for Secretly Evil Stars would be leaning so hard into positivity it becomes addiction and delusion (Dream), being tired of having his emotions invalidated and giving people the “real him” they apparently want (Ink), and being tired of being underestimated and desperate to stay with some of the only people who seem to take him seriously (Blue). That! Is literally just, I came up with it in five seconds! People don’t even give them the dignity of that, though, it’s just “They’re evil and my poor misunderstood murder babies are angels.” But like you said! How are they secretly misunderstood angels! If you’re going with “oh, they don’t WANT to hurt people,” why are they doing it- They aren’t necessary for the Balance, like you said. Is Nightmare forcing them so he can cause negativity? Is Error? Is something else going on??. And that’s not even getting into how all of that would wildly unbalance another set of Guardians- Reaper and Life. The excess death is their problem, now, the Bad Sans certainly ain’t sticking around to deal with the aftermath! Am I too passionate about this? Mayhaps. Shall I stop? Absolutely not.

And yeah, you’re definitely right about that- Outside pressure isn’t guaranteed to justify mass murder to the people you’ve affected with it. People have still lost their homes, and their loved ones, and so many other things- Why, exactly, does the alleged agony of being “forced” to do awful things negate the pain of the victims of those things? It doesn’t make sense at best, and it feels callous at worst. It feels… Really, really shoehorned in, for lack of a better term, just to make the “misunderstood favs” loved and adored by the masses, if that makes sense.

No issue with the ranting here! I quite agree with you, after all. And as for Ink… Well, it just makes sense! Like you said, he adores the Multiverse, so him writing off or ignoring something so, so vital for its survival just… Doesn’t make sense? Like, if you really don’t want him to know, it should be for angsty purposes- Fate, shielding his eyes and ears from it, completely cutting off anyone trying to tell him. Can you imagine how horrible to would feel, once someone was finally able to tell him? That would be a much better story arc, in my opinion- Someone prevents the Protector from doing what he’s dedicated his existence to, and the realization and healing that stems from that as they all work together to heal the Balance… Oh, and also- I see so many people calling him “Fate’s Favorite,” which, like. People. People know being the favorite of an abuser isn’t really a good thing, right? Even if there isn’t physical abuse, being the favorite can lead to some horrific things… Ahem. Moving on from my own rant- Yeah, Error definitely seems the most likely to not know or ignore the Balance, I think. Like you said, ignoring it even benefits him!

Hhh if you’re sure I’ll send a separate ask!!! Might take a bit, since I’ll have to write it all out… I should probably come up with a name, too. Just call me… Rainy Anon! Or Rain, heh.

Let’s be real, saving the brush is what Ink would want. And besides, if we save the brush, maybe we can use it to save Ink! Provided he hasn’t. You know. Gone insane from isolation and emotional overload. God only knows what having the emotional consequences of his entire existence hitting him at once would feel like. Quite frankly, I’m… Not sure he’d be able to process it. And would he even be Ink, once he got out? Would he start thinking it was all a dream he made up to comfort himself in an unfinished world???

I mean, to be fair, it could be seen as a response to everything in the AU. Ink is running, and the other Stars don’t know why!

He gives some much needed snark and sarcasm to some rather bleak situations. Also, he’d definitely be the sort to sarcastically narrate his brother’s fuckups.

🌧️ Rainy Anon 🌧️

AM HERE!

I believe I based his character off the mask I've seen him with, but I also kinda did it from memory?? Anyway, I made him "Kitsune Udon". He and Ink do have a connection, uh- they were like best friends until Ink got kidnapped/abducted LMFAO

If you wanna take the full Oreo bros into consideration, then we need to bring Reaper into the mix. I'm honestly kinda surprised no one talks about him in an Underverse setting. Being the God of Death means nothing to people these days smh. From X-Tale's destruction to Error committing a massacre against the AUs, Reaper's probably working overtime. He's definitely pissed about the situation. I think he would be interested in investigating the situation, which can then lead to him finding out about everything.

Error's trying! If anyone says anything about it, he gets defensive and says that they should be grateful he's doing anything for Ink in the first place! How ungrateful of them!

I remember once reading about how if we were to be realistic with the characters, Dream most likely wouldn't be as optimistic and friendly as he canonically is. But you're right, it's hardly ever as simple as being a roleswap AU; if anything, a personality swap AU might be more fitting of a description. I really don't mean to nitpick people's writing and stuff like this, I try to more encouraging when I can be, but these are things we need to consider when we want to make a story like this. Yes, characters who are evil and don't have the reason revealed CAN be interesting... but this isn't one of those cases, I don't think. I think I especially hate how they always make Ink the primarily evil one, the "root of it all", and the reason for it? He's soulless. Like... is that really the best you can do? You can use many reasons to make Ink the villain of the story if you really want to, and you target a condition he has? A condition he has no control over? Erm... kind of leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I vaguely remember seeing some posts that discussed this exact thing, and how using his soullessness as a source of evil for his character has tones of ableism. I only vaguely remember because I glossed over the posts, didn't feel like reading at the time, so I could be getting that wrong. If anyone has read posts like that and wants to give their opinion, feel free to do so.

And you're right about that- I NEVER, EVER see any of these stories address Life and Reaper's roles in the Balance. They're easily getting the most screwed over in this situation because the Gang's causing unnecessary death with their murder sprees, which is tipping the Balance... which is what they're against the Stars for??? They only focus on Error and/or Nightmare for some reason... stop leaving my Circle of Life babies out of stuff-

It's because even though they preach about how negativity is essential to the Multiverse and "Dream needs to understand that", they don't actually WANT negativity there. For example, they always question why Ink allows negative AUs or AUs with tragic stories to exist, such as Horrortale. Aside from the fact that Ink has zero control over what AUs are made, those AUs are basically counters to positivity-oriented AUs such as Haventale. They preach about how negativity has just as much of a right to exist freely... and then condemn its existence in ways they don't like. The thing is, Horrortale and Dusttale happened as a consequence of events; the CORE shutting down led to the disastrous conditions in the Underground, the constant RESETs and Genocides led Sans to become Dust, etc. These are all examples of NATURAL negativity and how life works; it isn't meant to be pretty. And if you think about it, isn't this exactly how they make Dream think in these stories? Negative AUs shouldn't exist. BUT WAIT! Dream's in the wrong, don't forget that! Just ignore the fact that the Gang antagonizes Ink for the existence of these AUs! Dream's the bad guy, the Gang has no faults! And you wanna know the most fucked up part about expecting everyone to forgive Error and the Gang? The ones who don't are frowned upon and treated as unreasonable, in my experience. Which makes zero sense??? It's like being asked to forgive someone who murdered your best friend, family, and/or pet because they were forced to... like that doesn't change anything??? Like maybe you'll get some pity, but you sure as hell aren't getting forgiveness anytime soon!

Ngl I keep forgetting Fate and Destiny are in these AUs because I don't use them. I don't really like the concept of them, I just stick with the Creators... they pretty much have the same role. But that one's just a personal preference, it doesn't really change much about the contents of the story. And you are absolutely right, being an abuser's "favorite" isn't a good thing. That mindset is concerning. That's like saying it's a good thing to be a groomer's "favorite", like... no it isn't. Oh, but by their logic, it's okay because it's Ink! Any possible negatives of being Fate's favorite are ignored because Ink just can't be a sympathic, dimensional character! Nope, nope, nope! He's evil, through and through, and anyone who tries to look deeper than the surface is blind and being manipulated by him! Like... did the Gang hire y'all to spew this propaganda? This feels like propaganda. This reminds me of something I saw where someone listed what Sans AUs are green flags, and they put Error there. Like... do y'all know anything about Error's character? This is the genuine question.

I'm so sorry if I sound kinda bitchy in this rant, but I just can't find the logic. I try not to nitpick at individual writing styles, but literally everything I have read that deals with FGOD and this roleswap dynamic has been one-dimensional and lacked depth. Again, that probably sounds ignorant, and I don't mean for it to, but the sheer amount of "Gang good, Stars bad" and nothing more has essentially ruined the entire concept for me. This is probably why I prefer FGOC, because the characters at least have some depth beneath the surface. Dream is like one of the nicest and most compassionate characters in canon, why you gotta vandalize him like this?

Alright! You shall be the Rainy Anon!

Long live Broomie! The worst part about Ink's situation is that he's surrounded by people who are... blank. Just like when he doesn't have his vials. And he hates when he gets like that. He's probably overthinking and everything. Love that for him, you know?

Nightmare's absolutely RELISHING in the negativity! It's just so, so good! And it's even better because Dream- goody-two-shoes, wouldn't-hurt-a-fly Dream- is the one who caused it. I can picture Nightmare laughing evilly and kicking his feet while stuff goes down.

#underverse au #dream sans #ink sans #anonymous asks

[sunflowerstache]

I need to rant.

#i work with a girl who just recently started like two months ago #and from the start she rubbed everyone the wrong way #she doesn’t help anyone on our team or help any customers #always just throws the responsibility to one of our other team members #and will step on people’s toes in order to seal approval from our boss #and needs our boss to constantly tell her how good she’s doing #and when she asks for help and someone tries to explain it to her - she gets so upset and says shit like ‘i got it thanks’ in that rude way #ya know #so we all just got annoyed with her really quick #and then she decided to travel 6 hours for thanksgiving #and celebrate with a HUGE group of people and all her extended family and tons of friends #and she keeps talking about how crazy it was and hectic but nice to be with her family #and I really am about to lose it on her #because every single person at our job has canceled their holidays #and isn’t able to see their families for so long #all my holidays got canceled and i haven’t seen my family since march #because there’s a fucking pandemic happening and it’s unsafe to travel and be in large groups #and then she lied about the day she got her test/results #and i just hate her so much like you are putting everyone at work at risk because you just had to travel for thanksgiving #i can’t stand ignorant people or someone who blatantly doesn’t give a fuck about anyone but themselves #like I would’ve fucking LOVED to see my family #I wouldn’t LOVED to it sit alone on thanksgiving and cry #she was just so selfish and now is putting the rest of us at risk #and i SWEAR TO GOD if she prevents me from going to see my parents Christmas day #i will fucking lose it #i’m sorry for this rant #i just really needed to vent and get it off my chest

[marvelandimagine]

I think some people mad about the arm is not necessarily about the fact that Ayo disabling the arm itself, it's more of the fact that it was not necessary and the fact that Bucky had no idea they can do that. If I were to be honest, I think it was not that necessary because Ayo is well capable of taking him down without having to disarm him and she is definitely not threatened by him. I think what some people find upsetting about that scene is the fact that it kinda comes off as Ayo putting Bucky in a position where it would make him feel like he doesn't have full control of his own body after all. The Wakandans, especially Ayo, T'Challa and Shuri had every right to feel betrayed and upset but the point is they should have told Bucky about how the arm can easily be disabled like that, they didn't know Bucky was going to set Zemo free when they gave him the arm and regardless of the things they have done for him and if they were ones who gave him the arm, they should have at least told him about it, because it's connected to him, it's a part of HIS body. It doesn't matter if it was necessary to disarm him or not, the point is they should have told him about it because apart from the fact that it's his body and that it was a bit insensitive given his history, it's also a point of vulnerability, and the fact that she did it in front of Walker (and possibly Zemo) --- people who can easily turn on Bucky, could easily that to their advantage and attempt to disable it themselves. Just my thoughts on it.

Thank you for sharing your perspective, anon!

I’m going to use this long-ass reply to address this stuff with Ayo and also voice some thoughts I’ve had over the past few weeks seeing people paint Bucky into being this complete soft and harmless human that needs 25-7 protection which I don’t jive with — and this is me, a complete Bucky stan.

Many moons ago, I saw a post that compared 1940s Bucky moving with stealth and a loaded gun on the train to the Winter Soldier doing the same thing, essentially discussing the similarities and debating how much of non-brainwashed Bucky was in the Soldier. And I think the fandom forgets or chooses to neglect the following when painting him as this fragile, peace-loving guy:

Bucky was an incredibly skilled sniper in the United States Army. His job is to eliminate threats in the most efficient way possible, and he’s good at it. HYDRA gets their hands on him and + the serum, this gets magnified. It wasn’t like HYDRA turned him into someone with the ability and mental capacity to kill — that was already there. The brainwashing and torture just carved out the rest of him to leave those honed skills and an amplified ruthlessness with no moral issues, no sense of self to contend with. That ruthlessness is part of Bucky, whether people like it or not.

When Bucky is outside of HYDRA for the first time and hiding in Civil War and gets attacked, he’s so brutal in his actions that Steve Rogers, the man who literally was ready to die to save Bucky and free him when no one else believed in the good in him, intervenes because “Buck, you’re going to kill someone.” Bucky responds that he’s not going to kill anyone, but the fact remains: with or without HYDRA control, Bucky has a strong capacity for violence that hovers on brutality — again, what’s the most efficient way to eliminate or neutralize a threat? Like, I don’t want to kill you, but I’ll knock your ass out with cinder blocks to the chest.

Bucky has a good heart, he’s loyal, he’s smart, he’s caring, he’s the longest-standing POW in history and was turned into a slave for decades, put through unimaginable trauma and torture and horror with no escape. Bucky is also a strong and incredibly skilled super soldier who has a bionic arm, is a trained sniper, is unnervingly precise with knives, and self-describes himself as “semi-stable.” Zemo notes in the bar that “it didn’t take Bucky long to get back into form,” and he’s right because the ruthlessness and skill of the Winter Soldier is a part of him and always has been. We see it when he has his hand around Zemo’s neck and tells him he will kill him, when he rips the glass from his hand and throws it across the room.

And I’m sure the Wakandans know all this about Bucky, this light and his ability for hard-to-stop violence, whether from talking to Steve and Bucky or doing their own homework. And they still choose to help him out of the goodness of their hearts because he’s been put through hell and they believe they have the capacity to help him and it’s the right thing to do — they’re betting more on those positive attributes. And they put a failsafe on his arm, a literal weapon, and chose not to tell him. You know why I think that shows how much they did care about him? Because they could’ve blatantly come out and said “Hey, we don’t trust you,” and hurt him outright, but they didn’t because they’re betting on the light in Bucky to outweigh the dark or any future manipulation. That it’s a worst-case scenario function they hope to never have to use — so they’re prepared if shit hits the fan, and if it doesn’t, Bucky doesn’t have to be hurt feeling like he can’t be trusted. I see no issues here, they’re just being cautious.

Now coming to Ayo, my QUEEN Ayo. From that beautiful, beautiful opening scene, we get to see her support, her reassurance, her belief that Bucky will be able to work through this, even when he doesn’t believe it himself. She watches him fight and struggle and cry, and you can feel the hope in her and how moved she is when she gets to tell him it worked, he did it — he’s free. And she says it not once, but twice. And you can hear not just the comfort, but the PRIDE and warmth in her voice directed to him, who I’m sure she’s watched throughout the whole deprogramming process and gotten to know and is happy to see him work through the pain and come out on the other side.

And then she sees that same individual make a decision in freeing Zemo that she perceives as a “fuck you” not just to her country, but to her, someone who was charged with protecting her king. She could’ve just disarmed Bucky the second they met up, but she doesn’t. She takes the time to explain her side and her feelings, her guilt and her shame, and basically implies that she feels betrayed by Bucky because Wakanda helped him and now he’s doing something that’s hurting her country. And still, she doesn’t attack or just go get Zemo. She gives Bucky the benefit of the doubt and a whole 8-hour American workday to do what he has to do because again, she believes in the best of him. And then that time limit runs up, and he chooses to get in her way.

And that’s the final straw. She’s angry, she’s guilty, she’s frustrated, and she feels betrayed hurt by someone I think she did respect and care about, someone whom she worked with and helped and supported when he was his most vulnerable. Did she “need” to disarm the arm to fight Bucky? Probably not. But is she doing it in the heat of battle and adrenaline and a whole bucket ton of emotions, including what she sees as the White Wolf blatantly disrespecting her country and her as a person and even friend and she just says fuck it, I’m done? You hurt us and me, and I’m going to hurt you back? Oh yeah. And Bucky looks shocked, not because he’s a poor fragile baby and “oh no, my arm, how could you?? my TrAumA”, but in the dual realization of “oh shit, how’d you do that?!” and “oh shit, I think I crossed a line here.” And also, I don’t think a single person in that room would be able to recreate the disabling sequence other than Ayo — it’s way too targeted and specific for someone like Walker to pick it up in the whole three seconds it took.

People need to stop reducing characters to these black and white extremes of soft and hard, of good and bad. Doing so completely devalues and ignores the REALITY of the complexity of being human, and Bucky and Ayo are both great examples of that played by stellar actors who portray that range and depth extremely well. End of the day, my thought is that the failsafe in the arm was justified and people need to stop coming for Ayo based on this ridiculous narrative that Bucky is too traumatized and sensitive and too much of a fave to ever be challenged or he’ll explode into dust. Boy deserves a life of freedom and healing and mental health support, but he’s also still a formidable opponent with the capacity for violence and skillset to kill. People are more than one thing.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk!!

#Bucky barnes #winter soldier #falcon and winter soldier #falcon and the winter solider spoilers #faws spoilers #faws #james bucky barnes #marvel #dora milaje #wakanda #Ayo #Steve Rogers #falcon and winter soldier spoilers #marvel fandom #I really went off on this one huh #fatws #fatws bucky #fatws ep 4 #fatws spoilers

[change-the-world-someday]

I'll Be Here

Oh boy I'm back baby. Here's a Derek Shepherd x Teen!reader bc I just started Grey's Anatomy. I'm well aware I've had stuff in my inbox for over a year, and frankly I'll get round to them soon. I hope this tides you over.

Derek Shepherd x Teen!Reader

Summary: Who'd have thought the child of Derek Shepherd would suffer with something even he can't cure?

A/N: I've been twitching a lot lately so this was a comfort write. Derek and Meredith don't have a relationship, and there's a bit of canon divergence.

⚠️TW⚠️ Talk and descriptions of twitching/tics

—•—

You knew the moment you woke up you were going to have a bad day.

Your alarm went off at the bright and early nine and as you made a move to turn it off, your arm twitched, almost pushing it off your nightstand. You let out a sigh, leaning down and managing to shut it off and sit up.

Until you neck starts to snap left and right, tensing and relaxing each muscle.

“Fuck’s sake,” you mutter under your breath, standing and stretching, well, as much as you can before your twitches start up again. You makes your way downstairs, finding an empty kitchen and a note on the counter. You manage to pick it up and read it.

Sorry, I got called in today. Let me know when you’re up

— Dad

You shake your head, whistling and shaking your hands. Great, so you're alone on a day where your twitches are worse than normal. You sigh and head back upstairs, almost losing balance on the stairs, and takes a quick shower before trying to style your hair. With difficulty, you get changed before reaching over and grabbing your phone. You grip it tightly, until it’s flung across the room.

“Shit,” you mumble, reaching down and picking it up. You open your messages, trying to text your dad.

Y/N

Hi, up. Bad today

It’s short, and to the untrained eye, might seem pretty rude, but to you and your dad, is a warning. Heading back to the kitchen, you try to eat a bowl of cereal. Instead, you managed to spill the cereal twice, drop milk on the floor, and then poke yourself in the side of the face a few times with your spoon instead of eating.

Your phone buzzes.

Dad

Do you need me at

home?

Y/N

No. Just bad

Dad

Do you want to come

to the hospital? You

can stay in one of the

offices if you want

You think about it for a moment, though you don’t get too long before your phone starts ringing. You pick up.

“Hi—” you whistle “—hi Dad.”

You hear him sigh. “Hey kid. Do you want to come in today? I can make sure no one stops you and you can come straight to the office.”

You click, your neck jerking forward. “You sure? I’ve—“ you whistle “—never been there before. I don’t want—“ you click “—to become a case study.”

Your dad laughs lightly down the phone. “I won’t let them. Just make your way over, and keep your earphones in. Music helps.”

You nod, before your neck twitches to the side and cracks, making your dad wince audibly. “Okay. I’ll let you know—“ you whistle and sigh, clearly getting frustrated with yourself.

“I get it. Don’t work yourself up; it’ll only make it worse. See you soon. Love you.”

A ghost of a smile passes across your face. “Love you too, Dad.”

—•—

Derek hangs up and leaves the store cupboard, almost bumping into Dr Bailey as she marches past.

“Watch where you’re going, McDreamy,” she scolds and Derek smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Bailey narrows her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Y'N's coming here. They're having a bad day,” he replies and Bailey nods, immediately catching on. “No one else knows.”

Surprisingly enough, you haven’t met anyone from Derek’s work, except for Bailey and even then, that was an accident. You'd bumped into her on a bad day and Derek had to explain what was wrong. Ever since, Bailey’s had a soft spot for you.

“Not even the chief?” She asks and Derek shakes his head. “Did you warn them?” He nods. “Well, there’s not much else you can do.”

“They're texting me when they’re a few minutes away. If I get caught in surgery, can you meet them at the doors please?”

The two stop in the corridor, Bailey pulling him over. “I have my own schedule too, Shepherd.”

Derek nods. “I know, but you’re the only other person here they know, and you know how they can get in places they don’t know…”

Bailey looks around. “If you’re caught up, you owe me one.”

Derek smiles and nods, a look of relief on his face. “Thank you.”

—•—

You're walking down the street to the hospital, constantly readjusting your earphones so they don’t fall out. Your neck keeps snapping to the side and jerking forward, earning a few odd looks from strangers. You sigh, a few minutes away from the hospital, and pull out your phone. Before you can do anything, though, you promptly throw your phone on the pavement.

Thank god your dad bought you one of those industrial phone cases. You pick it up, dodging people as you go to call your dad. He picks up after two rings.

“Hi, I’m—“ you click “—a minute away.”

“Okay. I don’t think I’m going to be able to meet you at the doors. Just walk through, take the stairs to the fifth floor, and come down the hall. I’ll be in the break room, second door on the left.”

Your eyes widen; you're going to be by yourself? Walking through a hospital? Where no one knows you?

“O-Okay,” you stammer out and your dad sighs.

“I’m sorry kid. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”

He hangs up and you take a breath, nodding to yourself. You pocket your phone and turn your music up as loud as it can be. Your dad was right, it does ease your twitching, though not as much as you'd like.

Fall Out Boy blasts through your earphones as you walk through the doors of Seattle Grace. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone, your neck twitch making it a lot easier to achieve. You click as you make your way to the stairwell, making your way up.

You don’t hear the calls of concerns from the interns following you, trying to catch up to you.

By the time you reach the fifth floor, the two interns have gone to find Dr Bailey to try and assist them, and Dr Shepherd who can help with the disorder being presented. They haven’t had someone who needs medical attention blatantly ignore them and go to a certain department before.

You lose your balance a little as you walk through the doors to the fifth floor, your neck jerking left and right repeatedly, muscles tensing and relaxing. Your hands are shaking and you walk like a new fawn.

You reach the door and push it open, whistling and clicking as you do so. At least you can see your dad today.

—•—

Derek knows immediately what kind of day is happening when you steps into the room. You're a jerking mess, neck and shoulders tensing and relaxing as though given electric shocks. You're whistling, clicking, and your eyes have recently started screwing shut, temporarily blinding you.

And that’s with your headphones in.

“Hey Y/N,” he greets, gently taking one earbud out of your ear and leading you to the seats. At least if you're sat, you have less of a chance of hurting yourself.

“Hi Dad,” you reply until a whistle comes back out. “S-Sorry.”

“Hey,” Derek places a firm but kind hand on your shoulder, “don’t apologise. None of this is your fault.” There’s a silence between you two, only broken by the sound coming from the removed earphone. “Fall Out Boy? Nice choice.”

Your neck snaps but you give a small smile. “Thanks.”

“Do you want something to eat? Did you manage to get some breakfast?” You sigh, your hands twitching and trembling, which tells Derek everything he needs to know. “Is it a bomb-site there?”

You shake your head. “I managed—“ you whistle “—to clean up. Took ages.” Your neck jerks forward. Derek sighs, putting an arm around you and pulling you into his side. You've always been wary; you never want to hurt your dad accidentally but Derek doesn’t care. You're his kid, and nothing will change that.

“You’re okay. Do you want some lunch? We can go to the cafeteria—they’ve got some pizza in there that’s actually pretty good.”

You nod, knowing anything you try to say will be interrupted by one of your twitches. You walk alongside Derek, trying your hardest to suppress your twitching as you make your way through the hospital and into to lift, where a few others are going to different floors. Derek notices, and leans into your ear. “You don’t have to hide it here, kid. Promise.”

There’s an audible sigh of relief from you as you let out a scatter of twitches, your neck jerking forward as you whistle and click. Your hands shake and flap and you let it all go. A few of the doctors and nurses turn around to look at you, but one harsh glare from Dr Shepherd makes them all go back to minding their own business.

You exit the lift and walk through the corridors to the cafeteria. You join the queue and you feel Derek keep an arm around you, trying to help you ease your twitches. You're grateful, though you both know there isn’t much either of you can do to stop them. You sigh, putting your earphones back in and blasting some music, this time Hozier.

Derek watches you struggle, sympathy panging through his heart. He hates that you've been cursed with this, and the worst part is they can’t find anything that’s causing it. It’s not like there’s a tumour or growth on your brain Dr Shepherd can operate on, you're just stuck with it.

“Dr Shepherd, good afternoon. Who’s this?” Lindsey, the server behind the food counter, greets. Derek smiles.

“Afternoon Lindsey. This is my kid, Y/N. They're joining me at the hospital today,” he explains, gently tapping you on the shoulder and causing you to take an earphone out. “Y/N, this is Lindsey.”

“Hi,” you greet, before your neck jerks forward yet again, cracking. The two adults give a wince and Lindsey gives you a small smile.

“What would you like, hun?” She asks. You look over, or does so as best you can. You can barely stay still long enough to read the menu. “We have a standard pizza or pepperoni pizza today. We also have some ham, chicken, or cheese sandwiches and salads. Or a few pastries we can heat up if you’d prefer.”

You give her a grateful smile. “Can I—“ you whistle “—have pepperoni please? And a—“ you click “—bottle of water?”

“Sure thing, and you Dr Shepherd?”

You put your earphones back in, trying your hardest to stop twitching. The problem is, the more you try to stop it, the worse it gets. It takes a few minutes for you to get your food, and when you do, Derek carries both trays to a table and sets them down. He takes a seat opposite you, giving a small smile.

“Thanks Dad,” you thank, pulling one earphone out so you can hear the conversation. You pick up the plastic fork and spear a few chips, but before you can eat them, your hand twitches and you throw it on the floor. You sigh but before either you or your dad can make a move to pick it up, someone else does it for you.

“You better be more careful. I don’t want fries on my shoes.” You recognise that voice anywhere, and smile as you look up at Dr Bailey. You let out a small laugh.

“Hi Dr Bailey,” you greet, whistling as your head snaps to the side and back. She smiles at you.

“Heard you were coming and through I’d say hello.”

—•—

“Guys, shut up,” Cristina hisses. “Do you see?”

“See what?” George asks as they quieten down. She nods her head and the table of interns turn around to catch sight of what’s going on. Dr Bailey is talking Dr Shepherd… and you sat with them. You're not dressed in any kind of hospital gown, nor are you wearing scrubs, so who are you? And how are you making Dr Bailey smile?

Meredith watches, catching sigh of your hair, and her eyes widen. She reaches over, slapping George on the arm.

“What?” He asks.

“It’s them,” she replies, “the person from earlier. Y’know, the one who didn’t check in at reception and took the stairs. The one who ignored us!”

George’s eyes widen too, and the two get up and start to walk over, ignoring the protests of Cristina and Izzie as they reach the table. You're struggling to get a sentence out, whistling and clicking as you try to tell Dr Shepherd about something.

“Dr Shepherd!” Meredith calls out, making the conversation halt between you. “Are you with a patient?”

She misses how you cringe. Dr Shepherd frowns, which only deepens more at the crack in your neck as it jerks forward. “Dr Grey, Dr O’Malley, how can I help?”

“W-We saw, erm, this kid walk straight through and up to neurology without checking in. Do you want us to check them in and get a better examination? We were going to come to you for a consult when we saw them anyway, but since you already seem to know them…” George trails off and Dr Shepherd looks between you, the interns, and Dr Bailey.

An awkward silence falls between you, only disturbed by the occasional whistle or click from you. “I can get a wheelchair if it’s easier.”

“No need,” Dr Shepherd cuts in. “They aren’t a patient, their name’s Y/N. They're my kid and they're accompanying me to work today.” The two interns look at each other, mortified. “Now, if you excuse us, we were just having lunch.”

Your hand flexes again, making you throw your fork on the floor (the second one in the space of fifteen minutes) and sigh. You go to pick it up, only for George to beat you to it. “Here.”

“Than—“ you click as your head jerks forward “Thank you.”

“Don’t you two have places to be?” Bailey asks, less than impressed with her two interns in front of her. They both nod and scurry off, back to their table to tell Cristina and Izzie about Dr McDreamy’s kid.

—•—

“I don’t know how they cope with it,” George muses as the group of four interns sit on some beds in the back corridor, waiting to be paged for something.

“Yeah, twitching all the time. God, I’d kill myself if I had them,” Izzie continues. “Would ruin my chances at both medicine and modelling. And a lot of other things, probably.”

“Do you think they wanted to go into medicine? Y’know, before they started twitching? Or have they always had it?” Cristina asks. “Or do they have a tumour?”

“For your information,” a voice cuts in, making all four jump and turn to the source, meeting the likes of Dr Shepherd, “Y/N wants to be a lawyer.” He walks down the corridor to them, everyone’s cheeks turning red a the prospect of being caught gossiping. “The tics developed about eighteen months ago, just before we moved to Seattle. It’s not a tumour, or any kind of swelling; in fact, we have no clue what set it off.”

“Have you done an MRI? CT?” Meredith suggests and Derek nods.

“We ran everything. It all came back clean.” He looks at Cristina. “They did want to be a doctor. When we realised we couldn’t cure them, they were upset for weeks. They—“

“Talking about me?” A voice calls down the corridor and Derek’s face splits into a smile, something that doesn’t go amiss by the others. You whistle, making it to the group and taking a seat next to your dad. You lean on him… until your neck twitches and you almost fall back. Derek’s hand shoots out, supporting you.

“We were just—“ Izzie tries to say before you cut her off, clicking in the process.

“Let me guess.” You whistle. “The doctor que—“ you click “—question and how I live with—“ your neck jerks to the side “—it.”

Your dad gives you a smile. “Ten out of ten for you,” he smiles. You nod.

“Well, I used to want to—“ you click “—be a doctor, until we found out this is incurable.” You whistle. “Pretty soul-crushing.” Your neck jerks back, and if it wasn’t for your dad’s hand, you would’ve hit the wall. “And we’ve learned to adapt to it. There are—“ you click “—days where I’m fine, with only a few, and days—“ you whistle and everyone can feel the frustration radiating off you. Still, no one chooses to finish your sentence, letting you get it out yourself “—like this.”

—•—

For a while, the six make general conversation, until, slowly but surely, you start to drift off. It isn’t until there’s an odd silence that Derek notices, and he has a smile on his face as he looks down at you, asleep on his shoulder.

“They look so… peaceful,” Izzie comments quietly, the others agreeing.

“Yeah. We’ve had a few rough days this week. God knows they need the rest,” Derek mutters. He shifts to look between the four. “Any of you wake them, I’ll make sure you’re banned from the OR for a month.”

Everyone’s eyes widen as they nod in unison; they’re all begging for a chance at more surgery. Carefully, Derek manoeuvres you so your head’s lying in his lap, body stretched out on the hospital bed. He carefully cards his fingers through your hair, detangling it as gently as he can.

The interns’ pagers go off, assigning them jobs and the four rush off, leaving Derek and you to rest. He smiles, getting himself comfortable sitting on the end of the bed, back against the wall.

“Get some rest, buddy. I’ll always be here for you.”

—•—

Hope y'all enjoyed. I know it's pretty different from what I usually write, but this is for my own comfort so...

Sorry not sorry

Taglist

@breadsticks2004 @criminalsmarts @rororo06@ogmilkis@ssebstann@herecomesthewriterwitch @garcias-batcave @spidey-reids-2003 @lovelylaurens@sataninsatin@snarky--starky @mcntsee @averyhotchner @dindjarinsspouse @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love

#derek shepherd #teen reader #Derek Shepherd x teen reader #Derek Shepherd x reader #platonic #tics #twitches #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #greys anatomy

[phoenixyfriend]

Thoughts on “Auntie Soka and Little Leia” now that I’ve actually got it posted:

Call it a director’s cut! The process of actually writing the thing, and also jokes made along the way. Link to the actual fic.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the energy for image descriptions, even the text screenshots. Might come back that later. Most of this was DMs with @atagotiak​.

This was an entire thing before I even started writing:

Before I decided on ages and stuff Ahsoka, to Jango, who has had zero contact with Kaminoans: Okay I know I'm a Jedi kid so you hate me but this toddler is your clone from the future. Jango, tired: What the FUCK are you talking about. Rex, barely able to talk: Don't you dare leave me with him, Commander! Ahsoka: I'm not going to leave you I just--I'm so tired I'm so fucking tired I haven't slept in five days and someone tried to kidnap Leia two days ago I am so fucking tired I need help

Ben: [twenty years of depression followed by a 'now I'm safe' breakdown over the course of weeks] Sokari: [whatever the FUCK this mess is]

When Ahsoka mentions there only being three other Jedi at the time of her death,  I was thinking Kanan, Yoda, and Obi-Wan (Leia told her about the latter two living past her). She's not counting anyone that received training after the Temple fell, and she didn’t know about Cal.

When Leia says  “I was adopted and raised by one of the founders of the rebellion, a movement built on the desire to instate freedom and democracy in a galaxy that had lost even the pretense.”

Depa: I'm no therapist but I diagnose you with "incredibly fucked up." Ahsoka: yeah, that’s fair

"Why did you pick Depa for--" She's pretty and I'm gay. Also because of the Kanan thing But mostly I'm gay "It's not a visual medi--" GAY

Empty of context beyond general post-fic AU: "Hey Sokari, we need to engage in psychological warfare against this individual and--" "I'm going to break into his office and leave a threatening note on his desk and leave no other sign that I was there. He'll see that his security is nothing and the only reason he isn't dead is because I'm too nice to kill him." "...okay, not what we were planning, but that works. Why is that your first choice?" "I really like breaking and entering, it's soothing." Ben just standing there with a bland smile like This Is Normal.

"We need someone to infiltrate a highly guarded facility in hostile territory." "So we're sending the Torrent kids?" [sigh] "We're sending the Torrent kids."

Rex and Sokari insist on both going by "Torrent" even though Rex could be a Fett. Jango really wants him to be a Fett. Rex has too many grudges to agree to being a Fett for... a while.

I really hope it's blatantly obvious that Ahsoka's not a reliable narrator for some things Ahsoka: Fett could care less if I died Jango: jfc even if you are older than me I can see you're fucked up. Drink your hot chocolate. Hells. She's got good reason to expect him to hate her as a Jedi! BUT. THAT IS NOT REFLECTIVE OF REALITY

We don’t get a lot of actual characterization for Jango, but the way I played him out here is he has never really parsed that Jedi are people before all this. It's a lot harder to treat them as a monolith when the traumatized former child soldier is having regular breakdowns in your shitty little kitchen

Fett: I respect you Ahsoka: No, don't do that

Ahsoka’s vigilantism is something that, in my mind, she's associating heavily with Zygerria and then the clones.

I figured that she never bothered to learn Quinlan’s teacher’s name but in the process of looking up some basic facts (whether he had a surname), I found that Wookiepedia was forced to give us a VERY wide range of possible death in Legends.

Please take a moment to imagine Quinlan's FACE when Ahsoka initially dismisses him. Quinlan has put a lot of effort into being rogueishly charming! It's very useful for his line of work! He knows to expect either irritation or a return flirtation when he acts like this with people his own age! Ahsoka is not flustered OR rolling her eyes and insulting him, she's just ignoring him and it's a bit of a blow to the ego

This just makes me really happy:

This was the initial comment I made, as a joke What if Maul is just. There. On one of the planets they make a pitstop at. What if Maul exists as the walking problem he is, but fifteen, and Ahsoka immediately tries to kick his ass and drag him back to Coruscant. I do not have room for this plot but What If

Despite not having room for this plot, I proceeded to write this plot.

Maul is kidnapped and it’s the best thing that ever happened to him HE'S FIFTEEN HE'S DUMB AS SHIT AND HAS A BAD ATTITUDE AND YEAH HE'S A DARKSIDER BUT HE'S FIFTEEN

Ahsoka: I sense... Maul [takes off sprinting] Rex: [immediately takes Jango's blaster and runs after her] Jango: Wait who Tholme: Who Quinlan: Who Jango: [looks at Leia] Leia: I don't know who that is either! Ahsoka, already wrestling a teenager to the ground: Oh no, you're a child, REX STUN HIM AND GRAB THE CUFFS, I'M SURE FETT OR THOLME HAS SOME

Fighting him isn't even legal, they have NO evidence of criminal wrongdoing, so first she needs to yell until he admits to something she can fight him about

Ahsoka: When I see Maul, it's on SIGHT Maul: WHO ARE YOU

Ahsoka: The Force didn't give me hands just to NOT throw them when I run into That Crafty Son Of A Bitch

Ben, when they arrive, after the tearful reunion: You... you brought Maul. Ahsoka: Well, yeah, he's fifteen and kinda dumb. I figured we could drag him here and force him into therapy, see what happens. Ben: I can't quite tell through the gag, but I think he's threatening to feed you your own spleen. Ahsoka: Lol, yeah.

Ben is absolutely on team "get Maul therapy" and will fight the Council on rehabilitating the baby Sith But also it's like. Here's your daughter! And your niece! And your daughter's QPP! Also your best friend, but baby, and his teacher, and the biological origin of a number of people you cared for deeply! AND ALSO THE GUY WHO SPENT LITERAL DECADES CRAVING YOUR DEATH, FOR SOME REASON

I just really want Ahsoka lovingly bullying Maul She gives him noogies and the horns don't protect him because girl has reinforced gloves

Maul's only allowed a low-power training saber and his fights with Sokari involve Much Taunting by her and Eventual Screaming by him, and everyone pops by to see: 1. Sokari doing the most absurd flips, for fun. 2. The bullshit that is ataru-shien reverse-grip jar'kai in the hands of someone who makes it work 3. What a Sith lightsaber form looks like 4. Just the general nonsense that is the way these two fight

Tia said “Wrt ridiculous flips. I'm remembering that time she beheaded four Kryst'ad at once.” and I just Rex brings up the quadruple beheading at one point to get someone to stop asking questions and the awkward, horrified silence almost makes him regret it. And then Sokari just snorts and makes a joke about how Rex once speared a slaver point-blank and everyone's just like hello??? "are you two okay" "no"

Maul absolutely starts crushing on Sokari after a 'sword under chin' moment and she's just very "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh you're fifteen, bye" GO MAKE PUPPY EYES AT OBI-WAN OR SOMETHING

The crushes are the worst part of everything, really, she's an attractive young woman that can kick a lot of ass, and a lot of people are into that! Unfortunately, most of those people are a decade younger than she is, mentally, because all the people her actual age look at her and see a child on account of the 17yo body.

It’s almost a good thing she’s in no place mentally for a relationship.

I just want Ahsoka to wear beskar.... I think that would be Nice........

This AU is also what caused this post.

I'm deeply enamored by the idea that Ahsoka can win fights against "older" padawans pretty much unilaterally, even when they team up 2v1 And then she offers to fight 5v1 "But only if I have permission to fight dirty." Ben approves it, a horror show full of "I fought many wars and will scream in your face or kick you in the balls if that's what it takes" follows She wins. There are no permanent injuries, but her reputation certainly gets weirder. Nobody under the rank of Knight agrees to let her fight dirty again. She just lets that stand because, well, she's not actually a padawan, she's thirty-three.

I’m not going to write this but my brain was EVIL and suggested it:

IT WOULD BE REALLY SAD IDK maybe 9yo Anakin has nightmares about what's happening to baby Ahsoka because bullshit about time-traveling force bonds IDK ANYWAY he cries to Sokari about the nightmares and she's like "oh shit" and it's time to go rescue herself from motherfucker unlimited

It's either that or she's like, expecting to welcome mini-me aaaany day now, for like, several months, before she realizes Something Went Wrong. Anakin’s dreams could even start right as she’s starting to realize something’s off.

Obi-Wan has never had a padawan that doesn't at some point bite Even Luke will, when pushed

OH also once the twins get Baby's First Lightsaber (training sabers, not real kyber), Sokari begs to borrow them for a dumb joke and tells Rex to get on her shoulders for a "Grievous Greeting" and they do The Thing

Jango and Ahsoka wrt Quinlan is just “Do I need to beat him up for you” “You realize I’ve beaten up sith lords before?”

JANGO'S TRYING He's just. "Can we be friends? Can I--can I be the guy that just noticeably gets in the way of a creep on the subway so you can be more comfortable without someone making a scene? I'm fucking trying here, give me a hint."

We didn’t actually figure out Jango’s age until this point. The only reason Fett's age matters is for Quinlan making a Wild Oats quip after Jango says he didn't know about Rex until a few weeks ago, and Fett going "How old do you think I am? And how old do you think the kid is?" and Quinlan getting Very Awkward as he does the math. Rex overhears and lets Quinlan sweat for a bit before saying "I'm a genetically-modified clone someone grew in a tube, he didn't know or have reason to know until he saw me with Sokari." Which is like. Eight additional layers of WTF, obviously, but at least Jango gets to avoid awkward wild oats jokes

Like, you’d expect the rebuttal to be ‘he’s my brother just with a biiig age gap’ or ‘he’s my nephew’

I find it very unfortunate for Quinlan that I've decided his defining characteristic in this context is going to be repeatedly putting his foot in his mouth

He’s trying so hard but "That sounds like a cool thing, maybe I'll ask ab--and it's another fucking trauma."

I'm doing Ahsoka&Jango t w i c e (there’s another fic where I’m doing it)

It’s just a fun dynamic! So much resentful respect.

Like she's twenty seconds away from calling him a bitch at any given time and he's just there like "I don't like you but I do see you move like you're about to tell an entire building to get on their knees with their hands in the air and I can respect that" Also she's probably much less judgmental about using blasters than Obi-Wan is The Maul subplot actually started with me daydreaming about Ahsoka grabbing a blaster for Reasons

I like the idea of Jango just deciding the most Useful thing he can do is help teach the Smol how to fight. He's AWKWARD around Rex and Soka because he doesn't know if there's anything he CAN teach them.

I didn’t actually plan for Tholme to figure out the age thing, he just SAID it and I had to sit there like Wait.

Ahsoka, Rex & Leia: ahhh, children Tholme: you say that like you aren’t children

I liked getting to write Rex's little "I have worked with all of them, and they're all Terrible" He loves them But They once got stranded on a planet that didn’t exist and Ahsoka died and Anakin killed a god.

There was research and discussion as to whether Ahsoka could win against Tholme but seeing as she held her own against Vader, and fought Grievous at that physical age without dying, etc.... yeah, the only thing holding her back was her body not being what she was used to, and she’s had a few weeks go adjust.

“I miss being able to just jump off skyscrapers” is such a jedi thing

Jango: I'll take the gun back if he tries to leave, they can't get far before--WHAT THE FUCK He knows Jedi are scary but he’s still not really used to just how over the top ridiculous they are He knows how to deal with Jedi in battle, not Whatever The Fuck These People Are Doing

Rex isn't even a Jedi, he's just so used to working with them. “Oh yes time for free-falling without a parachute again, same shit as always.”

Tia: I’m imagining Jango freaking out and Quinlan and Tholme being like. Concerned but mostly exasperated Clearly if they’re jumping off buildings it must be serious? But jfc they could’ve maybe communicated a bit more?

Leia: I want to finish my juice Tholme: Quin, stay with her while we go figure out what those two are doing. Quinlan: Wait what

Jango: Oh now he’s jumping off a building too??? Tholme: Sokari, you are not registered! You can't legally jump out windows yet! Jango: What the hell is going on? Is this normal?

We don’t necessarily know how often Ahsoka and Maul ran into each other after Mandalore. There was the later thing on Malachor, but other than that I'm just going with the idea that they ran into each other every year or two and just went for the eyes like feral cats

Ahsoka: I need to kick ass and you're coming with me. Rex: Yeah, okay. [several minutes later] Rex: Whose ass are we kicking?

Ahsoka and Rex

Neloms aren’t a SW fruit to the best of my knowledge, I just wanted to mess around with lemons/melons

Jango: you didn’t think any of this through, did you? Rex: you were there, you know we didn’t "When the Jedi says to jump out a window, I jump out a window."

Tholme’s real composed about stalking the ancient nigh-mythical enemy of his people, very “Life is already so goddamn weird”

This fic has been so heavy on the trauma but then I introduce Maul and suddenly it's the worst kind of comedy Nobody is competent, everyone's a little dumb, the bad guy is just grocery shopping

My propensity for banter has turned this into a six-person buddy cop comedy about Maul buying grapes They spend a significant amount to time ineffectually stalking Maul before Quin suggests the sensible option Quinlan just "You remember this is my literal job and specialty right"

Ahsoka sees Maul and all her brain cells go out the window except "Fight good" Usually she doesn’t need to worry about doing things legally. Maybe she needs to worry about someone seeing her do illegal things but she spent the past 15 yrs in a place where her existing was illegal

I feel like he’s also maybe kinda wanting to reassert that yes he is competent. Bc like. Ahsoka’s been kinda condescending this whole time and also can beat everyone up so. It's not his fault that he's actually the youngest person there, but.

Jango is finding this whole being friendly to Jedi thing a lot more overwhelming than he thought it would be. And overwhelming in different ways.

Maul usually signifies things getting worse and more horrifyingly tragic but he's just a dumb teen that they needed to arrest for his own good.

Quinlan: Look, I'm useful! Ahsoka: I've been through hell, wanna hear? Quinlan: NO. I DON'T. WHY.

Quinlan: I understand the concept of joking about your traumas, I do it sometimes myself! But sith hells that’s a lot of trauma.

Quinlan just wanted her to treat him as a Competent Individual, and here she is whipping out stories about Dying and Gods and the Force insists it's the truth and he just???? And apparently emo darksider over there is a Sith. And just, sure. Why not

A lot of people’s interactions with the time travelling disaster lineage is just

Tholme and Fett arguing and  Ahsoka's just waiting for a moment to pop in with "Hey, when's the last time either of you worked with the other's culture before this mess? Yeah, that's what I thought."

Much like Leia and Ahsoka hurting each other earlier, and Tholme figuring out the de-aging, we ALSO have Fett’s confrontation with Ahsoka being something the characters just did, rather than something I planned.

FTR the only time I managed to trigger myself while writing this fic was the “your behavior isn’t actually acceptable and we’ve all been trying really hard to give you room to recover but you have to at least make an effort to not be a bitch”

Writing about people having PTSD and symptoms of such: Yay! Writing about people having PTSD and engaging in toxic behavior to cope: Shit Ahsoka had... basically my exact reaction. It's "remind yourself that you're in the wrong, that they have a point, and then be overly formal in the apology because fuck if you accidentally make them feel sorry for you when they're the injured party"

Quinlan: Can we be friends? I mean, you're an asshole, but you're really cool. Let's be friends. (He MIGHT be nursing a crush) (Neat mysterious girl who can beat him up.)

Also he realises she's probably nicer when not having a slow-motion breakdown He's like "Huh, you'll probably be less of an asshole once you've gotten therapy."

...also, she pretty and got Nice Biceps

I love writing a good mental breakdown

I was so close to including a "he tried to kill me" just early enough for Jango to wildly misinterpret as her thinking Quinlan tried to kill her. He'd have been very confused, considering Quinlan's the one that called them down in a panic and currently has Ahsoka having her massive breakdown in his lap But

Tia:  I could see Jango interpreting it as idk, Quin resembling someone or for a moment acting like someone who tried to kill her and she had a flashback or something like that

There's absolutely room for a couple reasonable interpretations there And "trapped in a flashback about someone who tried to kill her" is absolutely what's happening! Just. You know. For a different reason. Jango probably wouldn’t assume Quin would hurt her, for one thing he seems to like her, for another even if he did he’s smart enough to pick a way that wouldn’t be so likely to get him caught

I had to step back and actually say “Also I'm just. Wow. I'm really just shoveling QPP Rex&Ahsoka at full speed”

Me, a few weeks ago, joking: Two halves of the same idiot black ops specialist Me, now, entirely seriously: Two halves of the same idiot black ops specialist

Me, belatedly: Oh, Ahsoka being joyfully mean to people was a form of mania she was unconsciously using to build a barrier between herself and her impending meltdown

She went from "just died" to "in charge of Rex and Leia" in like. Two minutes.

Confession: I've been delighting in the mental image of this whole Mess leading Jango to try to retake Mandalore, and Ahsoka loans him a saber for a 1v1 to get the darksaber.

“Can’t I just fight him barehanded? That’s how I did it on Galidraan.” "But the drama, Fett!"

Probably Rex has learned how to use a saber as well, because you never know when you have to borrow a weapon

I later changed my mind to Jango asking her to help, rather than her just sneak-teaching him, but it was funny.

Background nonsense to all this is Ahsoka and Rex, despite Rex being as force-sensitive as a lump of coal, having developed a process where she can extend her sensitivity to him mind-to-mind for weird symbiotic battle trance that scares everyone around them. It’s very similar to Battle meditation.

CONTEXT FOR LEIA BEING WORRIED ABOUT THOLME HIDING THINGS: Tholme is hiding the fact that the Council reached out and told him that the people he picked up might be connected to Ben and Luke, who showed up after the Depa thing but a solid week and change before Jango's ship makes it to the Temple. They asked that he not share that information to avoid getting anyone's hopes up in case the two situations aren't related. Ben and Luke haven't shared enough information for anyone to really be sure if the other three are connected Because the info Tholme has isn't quite the info Jango has, etc. And they can't just say Ben is a future Obi-Wan over comms

I just have a lot of feelings about people trying to do something right and just. Nobody's at fault! Not really! It's just complicated!

Tia: I like how when Ahsoka isn’t doing maladaptive trauma response stuff she’s very mature. And of course she’s had to be but it’s a good like, contrast. Where when she slows down to think about things she’s very sensible

Jango just spends most of this story lowkey wanting Ahsoka to Be His Friend but there's too much baggage that he's only metaphysically responsible for

Local aroace(?) has a squish

Ahsoka: He just wants to get on my good side because of Rex. Jango: I'm pretty sure you could kill an entire army without trying but you wouldn't because you have actual morals and stuff... and when I met you it was because you were killing yourself trying to keep (what appeared to be) children safe... you seem cool please be my friend.......

Ahsoka’s #1 weakness: mountains of trauma Ahsoka’s #2 weakness: she just doesn’t get why so many people think she’s cool and want her to be their (girl)friend

Jango, a 27yo massacre survivor who's killed Jedi masters with his bare hands: [gets lectured on various government structures by a tiny girl that's missing several teeth and needs to sit on books to see the table properly]

Ahsoka was raised in a religious meritocracy but developed all her opinions during a galactic war and then became a vigilante spy, Rex comes from a military cult, Leia is from an inherited monarchy that participates in democracy, Quinlan was originally from what appears to be a dynastic dictatorship, and IDK about Tholme other than that he is also from the religious meritocracy. And in legends Quinlan came to the religious meritocracy after his aunt sacrificed his parents to a vampire cult and then forced him to experience the psychometric echoes of that. There's just. A lot going on.

Leia at least has knowledge about structure and admin in theory that isn't based in either the military or populations under 10k

Jango: I want to be your friend. Ahsoka: Sounds fake.

I am unfairly fond of "Rex destroys a conversation by bringing up his own horrifying childhood and calling it a cult"

"Why does Sokari call you 'Rex'ika'?" "Because she's older than me." "...can I--?" "No."

Nickname privileges are extended ONLY to Ahsoka and older clones. There are no more older clones, so it's just Ahsoka.

Me joking about Star Wars AUs: Would you like a crackship? Me writing actual Star Wars fic: My favorite character type is apparently “too traumatized to have a relationship” so this is at least 90% gen.

I had to pull a scene opening at one point because Ahsoka's skill with not getting shot is actually much less useful than Tholme's clearance levels.

Now I really want a team-up of Ahsoka, Rex, and Jango where they do have to get in a dogfight of the "she flies, we shoot" variety and Fett just has to scream because the speeder thing to catch Maul was one thing, but this....

Ahsoka, before TCW: I know all the traffic rules but I'm not that great at flying! Ahsoka, after TCW: I'm great at flying but if you let me behind the wheel we are absolutely getting arrested.

She went from "knows the rules but doesn't have the skills" to "has the skills but primarily in the form of not getting shot" which! Is delightful! "Bet I can get us through that alley--" "DO NOT"

Jango and Ahsoka are both just very "Is this friendship? Is this camaraderie? My heart's been fried on platonic love by so many murders that I'm not sure anymore." "I've lost a lot of friends. I kind of forgot how to make those."

I have no idea if "hasn't been closer than Alderaan except that one trip to Chandrila" is canon-compliant but ehhhhhhhh It feels plausible enough?

Belatedly realized that I could just explain my optimal Rex&Ahsoka dynamic as just... drift compatible. It's vague enough on the specifics while still digging into the meat of what they mean to each other and how they work together. The terminology is already in existence. I can just use it.

Romantic? Platonic? Familial? Doesn't matter! They're drift compatible.

They are important to each other and that is what matters

I really like the Leia&Quinlan thing. He's just like "This small child needs a friend that isn't super depressed," and decided he's going to be her friend. I keep trying to toss in "Quinlan volunteers to 'baby'sit." She's not much older and she has a Baby Brain, it works out

There's a running bet as to whether Leia will leave the Order the second she turns thirteen, or if she'll let Sokari "train" her for a few years first. And... that’s how I came up with Leia Antilles, Senator of Serenno.

They'll be bullshitting Ben as her new master to "finish out the padawanship" since they can't tell everyone she's really in her thirties and he's conveniently there and already knows everything and was half her master anyway. Like Ben was planning on taking on Luke, but Luke is "six" and even he can't swing that as old enough to be a Padawan, and it's not like Sokari will take more than a handful of years to justify knighthood, sooooooooo

#Ahsoka Tano #Captain Rex #Leia Organa #Jango Fett #Obi Wan Kenobi #time travel #de aging #Phoenix Babbles #Uncle Ben and Little Luke #Auntie Soka and Little Leia #I need to excise the bits that are actually funny on their own

[ticklishfiend]

The Persuasion Machine (My Hero Academia)

Lee!Bakugou / Ler!Class 1A Girls ⚠️PLATONIC⚠️

(A sequel to “Pure Gold”: read that first!)

A/N : sorry it took me a while to get this one out! school has been terrible and i’ve been sick with migraines for days but hopefully this is good enough! i’m working on another mha fic rn so hopefully i don’t quit on it lmaoo. hope u enjoy!

Summary : Bakugou begrudgingly attends the girls sleepover Mina has invited him to so she doesn’t blackmail him with incriminating material. When he doesn’t answer one of their gossipy questions the way they wanted, they decide to use a little persuasion to guide him their own way (leading to some interesting results).

Word Count : 3461

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!! MWAH <33

-

Bakugou had been dreading today from the moment he agreed to attend this stupid ass sleepover in the first place. Since when did he start caving so easily to puppy-dog eyes of all things?! His friends were starting to make him go soft, and this is NOT something he needs hanging over his head while trying to become the world's number one hero. Especially not from someone who now knows his deepest, darkest secret; he absolutely loves romance anime.

He couldn’t help it, the stories were always so compelling and they drew him in every single time without fail. Sometimes he’d catch himself getting emotional at the worst of the worst shoujos out there, but dammit if he didn’t love a good confession scene, alright?! There’s just something so satisfying about the build-up, the angst, the tension, all of it is just enough to make the stone-cold, stoic future pro-hero shed a few happy tears. He really couldn’t help it. Especially considering he’s been having feelings of his own for someone recently, so that mixed with those heart wrenching scenes..it’s impossible not to cry, okay?!

But now that he’s got someone else who knows this secret about him, he can’t allow it to get out there in the world. Mina is one of his most trustworthy friends, but she’s also the most inclined to gossip. She’s not one to turn away from good blackmail material, and now that she was lying on this pot of gold there was nothing that could turn her away from it, not even good old-fashioned tickle torture like he had already tried. It seemed Bakugou’s real, true, only option at this point was to attend that dumb fucking sleepover and get this shit over with once and for all.

So that’s what he did. Even though he tried his best to ignore the nagging dread building up as the day slowly dragged on, the moment he heard that excited knock on his door at 6 that evening, he knew there was really no escape. He was being forced against his will to have...fun.

With an exasperated sigh, Bakugou trudged from his bed over to his dorm door, throwing it open only to be attacked in a vicious hug by a flash of bright pink. The girl held his arms tightly against his sides as his eyes drooped in annoyance, Mina letting out an excited little squeal as she tired bouncing the boy up and down in her hug.

“Eeeee! I’m so excited, Blasty, you have no idea! Tonight’s gonna be the best night ever!” She giggled giddily, finally letting him go before grabbing his wrist and quickly leading him out into the hall towards her room. He growled at the contact, though didn’t put up any resistance. Better to just get this shit over with and let the little nuisance have her fun, Bakugou thought as they finally reached the door to her room. He could hear chatter from the inside, assuming the girls had been hanging out for a few hours before Mina had decided it was time for her little guest star to arrive. She placed him a little ways away from the door, standing in front of it and facing him with a wide grin. He was taller than the girl, having to look down to her in order to see the bright smile that seemed to be plastered onto her face at all times.

“Okay, so, here are the rules for tonight: don’t be mean. This is a FUN night, I don’t want you ruining it for the rest of the girls, got it?” She pointed an accusatory finger up towards his face. Bakugou only lowered his eyelids in response, obviously annoyed. She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Okay, fine, you can be a little mean, but only because we find it kinda funny sometimes. Just no making anyone cry!”

Bakugou huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and throwing his eyes towards the ceiling. “Fine. No one will cry.”

“Good. Next: actually try to have fun with us! Don’t just sit there all mopey like you’ve done during dorm game nights. Actually try!” Mina entangled her fingers together and held them up to her cheek, giving Bakugou the biggest, most pathetic little puppy eyes the explosive teen had ever seen. “Pretty pleeeeease?~”

“Good god, Pinky, I get the fuckin’ idea! I’ll try, alright?! But if you show that video to ANYONE, so help me god you’ll never see another sleepover for the rest of your damn life!” Bakugou shouted, and though his screams would be terrifying to anyone else, Mina only chuckled in response, throwing up a thumbs up towards her taller counterpart.

“Get ready, Blasty, cause this is gonna be great.”

-

Bakugou couldn’t help it. He was stiff when he first arrived, feeling awkward and out of place. This wasn’t his territory, wasn’t his environment. He was surrounded by giggly girls who wanted him to play their little games and gossip, and it just felt...wrong at first.

And it just kept getting worse.

“Soo...Hagakure...any new interesting developments with Ojiro?” Mina grinned towards the floating pair of pink pajamas rested on a purple bean bag. The other girls all giggled, Tsu even shoving at Mina playfully with a funny scowl on her face. Bakugou knew what they were talking about, and he was not interested in this conversation at fucking all, and for more reasons than just general annoyance.

“I mean, just the same old same old I guess. Not that that’s a bad thing! I’m loving how we are right now, he’s just so sweet and loving and...yeah. It’s going good,” the invisible girl shifted in her seat, and though they couldn’t see her, the smile on her face was blatantly evident in her voice. “Have you guys got any crushes you wanna discuss?”

Jirou’s face turned bright red, though she remained silent and frozen in place. Mina spoke up first. “Nope! Not for me, at least. Still waiting for the day I’m a pro and can finally try to win some with Hawks. God, that’ll be the fuckin’ day,” Mina sighed happily, and Ochacco just giggled and punched her shoulder playfully.

“You won’t get within two feet of the guy before he files a restraining order,” Uraraka said snidely, making the girls laugh. Even Bakugou had to stifle a small chuckle behind his palm.

“Hawks, huh?” Bakugou finally spoke up, leaning his back against the wall and crossing his legs on the bed. He decided the best way to speed tonight along was to engage in their conversation. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

“Ohoho yeah. What, you tellin’ me you don’t think he’s hot?” Mina chided, looking up towards Bakugou from her place on the floor.

“Didn’t say that. And I didn’t say I was shocked either. ‘Course you picked a pro to crush on and not anyone you actually know,” Bakugou said mockingly, but it only prompted a sadistic grin to appear on Mina’s face.

The pink girl quickly popped from her spot on the ground and up onto the bed with Bakugou, Momo, and Jirou, leaving barely any room on the space. “Hey, what the f-!” Bakugou started, before Mina plopped herself cross-legged right in front of his face, and evil look glinting from her eyes.

“Who do you have a crush on then, Blasty?” Mina’s grin was face-splitting, and the look in Bakugou’s eyes gave her everything she ever could have wanted.

“Crush?! Why would I of all people have a fucking crush!? I don’t like people!” Bakugou shouted, though from how close Mina was to his face right now, it was impossible for her to miss the small tinge of blush on his cheeks. She was striking gold again already.

“I don’t believe you~” Mina sung, her two index fingers wiggling at his chest in teasing mockery. “C’mon, Bakugou, you’re so easy to see through! Just tell us and noooo one has to suffer!”

“The fuck are you talking about?! I don’t like anyone, end of discussion, okay?!” Bakugou shoved Mina away from him (not too forcefully, of course, just enough to shove her towards Momo sitting on the pillows). Mina sighed with a smile, shaking her head with tuts of disappointment.

“Y’know, I didn’t want it to have to come to this, Katsuki Bakugou, but you really leave me no choice,” Mina looked around at her friends with a knowing but evil shine in her eyes, and they all perked up with understood smiles, and Bakugou couldn’t help the tinge of fear he felt shiver down his spine. “Girls...I think it’s about time we introduce our guest to the ‘Persuasion Machine.’”

“The fucking what-!? -hey! The hell do you think you’re doing! GET THE FUCK OFF ME!” Bakugou shouted as all the girls pounced on him at once, all grabbing at him for an arm. Tsu, Uraraka, and Hagakure all took his left arm, while Jirou and Momo prompted for his right, each of them holding onto his limbs back tightly enough where he was restrained. Mina plopped herself down on his outstretched thighs, now uncomfortably close to his face.

Mina wiggled her fingers out in front of the boy’s face, and all at once Bakugou understood what was about to happen. This wasn’t just persuasion. This was revenge for last night.

“You’ve got one last chance to talk, Katsuki. Who do you have a crush on?” Mina spoke in a low interrogator voice that would usually be amusing to Bakugou if it weren’t for the fact he was very obviously about to be tortured by tickles.

“NO ONE, PEA FOR BRAINS! LET GO!” Bakugou pulled at his arms, but in all honesty...he chose not to put up that much of a fight. He wouldn’t let the girls know this, of course, but...if he’s here to let them have fun, then dammit he’s gonna let them have their fun, even if that means sacrificing his dignity even just a little. At least it’s these girls and not anyone who’d actually judge him.

“Fine. Have it your way,” Mina smirked, looking towards her friends restraining Bakugou on both sides. “Girls, pin him.”

Before Bakugou could even blink, the girls had him pinned on his back against the bed, now sitting on his arms.He tried to move them, really move them that time and...nothing. Shit. Oh shit. He was actually restrained now. He really couldn’t move at all.

Fuck.

“Pinky, I swear to god if you fucking touch mE-” Bakugou grunted, locking his jaw together when he felt those evil, evil acrylics scribble on his belly. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, tossing his head to the side trying desperately to distract himself from those skittering fingers that never relented.

“Ooh, little ticklish, Bakugou?~” Mina teased, pushing his black tank top up just slightly to reveal his toned but quivering belly. She scratched her nails along his sides, making him grunt out a giggle much to his dismay.

“NO! I’m nohot!” Bakugou giggled as her index finger scratched right below his belly button, his face twisting up in a smile he absolutely despised. “FUCKIHIHING QUIT IHIHIT!”

“Wow, he must be really ticklish. He broke pretty fast,” Tsu spoke bluntly, and though she was only rationalizing the situation, her words somehow felt so teasing to him in the moment, making his giggles go even higher pitched than before.

“Right? Mina’s barely touched him and he’s already giggling,” Jirou chuckled from her side, her eyes never leaving the giggling boy below her. “Can’t wait to see how he reacts when she really gets going.”

Without warning, Mina began kneading her thumbs into the sides of Bakugou’s belly. The explosive teen threw his head back in mirth, cackling and just barely kicking his legs out behind her.

“NAHAHA! STAHAHAP! FUHUHUCK YOHOHOU!” Bakugou spat out between his cackles, prompting Mina to gasp in mock shock.

“Well I never, Bakugou! Is that really how you would speak to your bestest friend in the whole wide world?” Mina moved her fingers up towards the bottoms of his ribs, sending him into a whole new wave of giggles and cackles, digging his heels into the bedsheets. “Aww, are your ribs sensitive, Blasty? You real ticklish here?~” Mina pinched at his bottom ribs quickly, and Bakugou was hysterical.

“GAHAHAHA! NOHOHO! I’M NOHOHOT! QUIT IHIHIT!!” Bakugou laughed, tugging at his arms restrained by the girls on top of him. “MINAHAHAHA!”

“Oh my god! He never calls me by my actual name! We’re actually getting through to him!” Mina shouted in excitement, slowing her tickles til she was just resting her nails on his ribs in teasing warning. He breathed heavily at the relief, but his cheeks were flushed in embarrassment and he only opened one eye to look up at his interrogator. “You ready to talk yet? Cause I know there’s gotta be a love interest in that mean little head of yours somewhere!”

Bakugou growled up at her through bared teeth, still breathing harder than he wanted to be. “Fuck...you…” He grumbled at his interrogator, clenching his fists in anticipation as he felt those nails just barely start to move again. They moved at an agonizingly slow rate, making him squirm but not yet giggle.

“Maybe we’re not being mean enough. Jirou?” Mina looked up towards the grinning purple-headed girl in front of her, who already knew what she had to do.

“With pleasure, Mina,” Jirou chuckled, extending her earphone jacks down towards Bakugou’s exposed armpits, just barely letting them touch the bare space. Bakugou’s eyes widened in excited fear at the sensation, his body jerking involuntarily.

“NO! Fuck, no, wait!-”

“You wanna talk?” Mina asked, nodding her head at Jirou, alerting the girl to begin moving her jacks in his underarms. She just barely tickled the area teasingly, but he was a puddle of giggles in no time. His teeth were clenched shut and eyes screwed tightly closed, but the high-pitched, breathy giggles that made his chest shake were unmistakable.

He shook his head in answer to her question, before barking with loud laughter as Mina dug into his upper ribs right below where Jirou continued her teasing onslaught of tickles.

“NAHAHAHA! STAHAHAH-” Bakugou cackled, his words getting lost in the mess of laughs and shrieks as the girls continued their torment on his sensitive body.

“Aww, he’s so ticklish! I really didn’t expect this from him to be honest,” Uraraka cooed, using one of her free hands to scribble one nail down his exposed neck on her side. Bakugou let out a surprised squeal, scrunching his head down to shoulders, effectively trapping her finger in the terribly sensitive area.

“GAHAHAHA FUHUHUCK! QUHUHUIT! I SWHEHEAR!” Bakugou screamed with his own aggressive form of pleading, kicking his legs out in playful agony.

“All you have to do is say one little name, Bakugou~” Mina teased, her right hand staying to squeeze at the hypersensitive spot on his ribs, while moving her left to down to vibrate her index fingers into his very lower rib, the exact spot and method he had used on her the night before.

Bakugou lost his mind.

“FUHUHUCK NO PLEHEHEASE! STAHAHAP IHIHIT! GAHAHA SHIT NOT THEHEHERE! NOT THAHAHAT!” Bakugou screamed, bringing his knees up towards Mina’s back in a desperate attempt to curl up, before resorting back to his hysterical kicking like before.

“Tickle tickle, Blasty~” Mina cooed, turning the cackling boy beneath her a bright shade of red.

“Oh, he’s blushing!” Momo awed excitedly, pointing down at the boy’s face.

“NO I’M NOHOHOT!” Bakugou howled, squeaking when the finger Momo used to point began wiggling in his pit along with Jirou’s jack. He threw his head back in mirth, shrieking and cackling at the overwhelmingly ticklish sensations on his body.

“Somebody can’t handle being teased, huh?~” Hagakure pointed out.

“Nope. Poor thing’s gonna break in a minute, I promise you,” Mina spoke as if Bakugou wasn’t even there to listen, which only added fuel to his flustering fire. “So you ready for a break, Explosion Boy?”

“YEHEHES! GOD FUCK PLEHEHEASE!” Bakugou pleaded, gasping for air when all the ticklish sensations stopped at once. Tired, breathy giggles tumbled from his lips, his chest rising and falling in giddy exhaustion. “Fuhucking hell…”

“Crush, Bakugou. C’mon,” Mina crossed her arms, only resulting in Bakugou to roll his eyes.

“Is it that big of a fucking deal?!” Bakugou groaned, jumping with a yelp when he felt a single finger poke his belly button, “FUCK OKAY, OKAY! NO MORE! I’LL FUCKING TALK!”

“Finally,” Jirou muttered, chuckling when she saw Bakugou slightly blush from his spot under them.

“Just...this can’t...this can’t leave this damn room, you got that shitfaces?!” Bakugou’s insult wasn’t laced with his usual fiery aggression, and the girls knew he was serious.

“Bakugou, you would be surprised by the extensive list of secrets that have yet to leave these sleepovers,” Momo placed a non-tickly hand on his shoulder comfortingly, and she could feel the boy deflate relaxingly under her touch.

“Seriously! Nothing leaves this room, Blasty,” Mina gently grabbed Bakugou’s chin, turning his head to face her. His eyes finally met hers, and she nodded. “Nothing.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, again refusing to make any eye contact with the girls. “Fucking fine...but not because I want to…” he sighed roughly, shutting his eyes tightly before lowering his voice into a whisper that was just audible enough for the girls to hear. “It’s Kirish-”

“YES! I KNEW IT!” Mina threw her hands in the air with an excited screech, making Bakugou jump a little from surprise.

“I kinda thought the same thing, kero. Just wasn’t positive,” Tsu spoke with a finger on her chin before gently climbing off the boy. The other girls followed, and once he was finally free he pushed himself back to his spot against the wall, bringing his knees to his chest to lay his arms on top.

“So fucking stupid...why did you wanna know that shit so bad anyways, huh?!” Bakugou still couldn’t make complete eye contact with any of the girls out of embarrassment.

“Just thought it would be cute!” Mina smiled widely, before turning to face all the girls again. “So, anybody up for Just Dance?”

-

“Aw, really? You’re turning in already?” Mina whined up at Bakugou who was already making his way towards the door.

“Pinky, it’s 1 in the goddamn morning. I’ve already been tickled to death, played Just Dance, painted Kermit’s fucking nails, watched a shitty-ass horror movie, AND told you my who my stupid fucking crush is; I think I’ve got the whole damn sleepover experience,” Bakugou grunted before turning his body back towards the door before pausing his hand on the knob. “Actually, uh...come out here a minute, Horns. Gotta ask you something.”

“Already told you once, Blasty, they aren’t horns!” Mina said as she got up from her spot on the floor and over towards the door with Bakugou. “I’ll be back guys!”

“Alright. Night Bakugou!” Uraraka waved at the pair with a wide smile. All the other girls said their goodnights as well, Bakugou only nodding in response.

The pair made their way into the dark, quiet hallway together, shutting the door behind them. “So what’s up?” Mina asked in a whisper.

Bakugou pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “How...how did you know?”

Mina’s brow quirked. “What?”

“You said you knew I liked him...how?”

Mina couldn’t help but smile. She shrugged. “Pretty obvious, Blasty. He’s the only one you tolerate. I used to think it was just cause you respected him, but when I found you watching that romance last night, it all just kinda made sense,” Mina chuckled, enjoying the slightly embarrassed silence Bakugou gave her in response. That was before Mina gasped suddenly.

“Oh goodness, I completely forgot! I’ll delete it right now, promise!” Mina took out her phone, when Bakugou made a small confused noise.

“Huh? Delete what?” the boy asked.

“The video I took of you. Y’know, the whole reason you came here tonight?” Mina turned her phone around to show Bakugou the clip of him crying at the screen of a romance anime, which made the boy blush in the dark.

“Oh, yeah,” Bakugou huffed. “You, uh...you do that.”

Mina just giggled before deleting the video for good. “Goodnight, Bakugou.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Bakugou rolled his eyes with a small hint of a smile, poking her once in the tummy. “Night.”

Mina watched as Bakugou trekked his way back to his room, and couldn’t help but smile. She knew, without a doubt, that that explosive kid with no friends…was definitely her friend.

-

A / N : thank you for reading, i hope u enjoyed!! sorry it took so long to get out, i’ve been dealing with a lot of stuff in my personal life lol. pls leave a like and pls pls reblog if u can!! <3 xx

#tickling #my fic #mha tickle #tickle community #ticklish!bakugou #my hero academia #katsuki bakugou #mina ashido #kyoka jiro #momo yaoyorozu #tsuyu asui #ochako urakara #hagakure tooru #class 1a #tickle fic

[bandaged-writer]

hi!! since requests are open- can i have jealousy hcs for dazai, ranpo, tanizaki and chuuya with an s/o who’s friendly and doesnt really catch on to flirting? :0

Dazai Osamu

➤ Dazai doesn’t get jealous easily. He trusts you all the way to his bandages and knows how long it takes you to notice that someone is flirting with you. Before the two of you became a thing, Dazai had been excessively flirting with you only and always threw compliments your way such as “Ah, those earrings really compliment the color of your eyes, belladonna!” and you’d just say “I think so, too. Thanks,” before resuming your way of life. Yosano had to tell you that Dazai was looking at you with heart eyes, trying to score a date with you for 2 weeks at that time.

➤ He watches with an amused smirk when the person flirting with you starts getting frustrated. To Dazai, it’s just funny how the person becomes more desperate and the flirting becomes blatantly obvious, yet it’s like you’re immune unless it’s Dazai that does the flirting (yes, you got better at catching his advances). Eventually, Dazai will smoothly join the scene with his hand resting on your waist and pull you close to his side.

➤ “Thank you for looking after my belladonna while I had to use the bathroom, but we’re on a date. If you’d excuse us.”

➤ However, Dazai won’t pull the playful side if the person makes you uncomfortable or uses inappropriate pick-up lines. He knows you’re just too nice to tell the person to fuck off and would rather sit through the experience than potentially anger them.

➤ You can actually see the light in his eyes fading into nothing and his voice drops an entire octave. You’d only witnessed that side of Dazai one or two times, but you will never forget the goosebumps that covered your skin. “Put those paws of yours on her and you won’t see tomorrow come.”

➤ I can see Dazai getting somewhat jealous when it’s someone you have good chemistry with and/or if there’s some kind of romantic background; like someone you’d once gone out on a date with, was partner other and such. He’d stay attached to your side all the time, but not because he doesn’t trust you; he doesn’t trust that person.

➤ While you’re happily chatting away, Dazai is extra touchy in that situation. May it be his arm around your waist, his hand on your upper thigh or gently caressing your knee underneath the table while whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Ngl, he wants to fluster you a bit, just enough for it to be visible or audible. Dazai is a little shit in that situation and wants to make the person feel uncomfortable enough to leave.

➤ “Dazai, you what-?!” You’d slap his arm and blush furiously.

➤ “I don’t like the way they looked at you, my love,” Dazai would say pouting once you’re home and proceeds to suck some purple bruises into the skin of your neck, so that they wouldn’t look at you twice, again.

➤ Can and will continue if you liked what he was doing.

Ranpo Edogawa

➤ That man protects his candy better than his own life and you’re no exception. Sharing ain’t caring and he sure as hell isn’t having it when someone flirts with who belongs to him.

➤ Unlike Dazai, he can’t just watch and immediately sweeps in to stop whatever the person was about to do with both of his arms around you or you behind him. Depends on how badly it rubs Ranpo the wrong way.

➤ Yes, Ranpo’s aware of your overly friendly side and appreciated it. Even flirting with you is fun, because it takes you some time to get it and when you do, it’s the most adorable thing. However, it’s definitely not adorable when someone else tries to gauge that reaction out of you. It’s only for Ranpo to witness.

➤ “Who the hell are you?” Ranpo would say in a tone that would give away that he’s definitely jealous but quickly sigh and stop the person from answering by waving them off. “Have you ever heard of rhetorical questions? Of course, I don’t want to know who you are.”

➤ The type to deny he’s jealous and be all whiny about your accusations until you stop teasing him about it, hold his hand and reassure him. “I really look up to you, Ranpo. My eyes are always on you,” and Ranpo would deadass lose it, because that’s what you said when it was your first time joining him for a murder case and he had told you to watch him.

➤ Gets soft real fast and admits that he just doesn’t like anyone else hitting on you, saying that jealousy is indeed a lame feeling that he’s not fond of. “But you’re beautiful so I can understand, but it’s still so meh.”

➤ Pls give him a forehead kiss. He treasures them so much more than kisses on the lips, cheek, neck, etc. To Ranpo, it’s like a pinky promise.

➤ Will proudly wrap an arm around your shoulder, pull you flush to his side and wanders off to the next ice-cream shop while making walking a bit hard. According to Ranpo, ice-cream cools down heated feelings (pun intended) and it’s a great place for him to show off who’s his.

➤ Can and will use his deduction skills on that person if they’re making you uncomfortable or trying inappropriate things on you. “Ah, I see. You’ve already harassed several people and had to go to the police. Wouldn’t it be a shame if you had to get actually arrested this time?” 

➤ Has that proud and wicked smirk on his face when the person gets scared and makes a run for it. Ranpo will still report them though.

Tanizaki Junichiro

➤ Jealousy-wise, he’s something between Ranpo and Dazai. It really depends on the circumstances, how the person approaches you and all.

➤ If the person treats you with respect and kindness, Tanizaki will quickly inform them that you’re taken by him. He understands that you’re naturally friendly and figures that it’s also the vibe you give off, so he can’t blame anyone for finding that attractive. Tanizaki is just relieved that the person was kind enough to understand the position they were in and even wished the two of you a nice day/date.

➤ Still holds your hand a little bit tighter, though. 

➤ “Wait, did you just get jealous?” It’d hit you out of nowhere once the scene replays in your head and Tanizaki would blush ever so slightly. Maybe he was a bit jealous, but not to a high extent. He’d rather call it protective. “Ah, [Name], it’s nothing like that, I promise.”

➤ Now, y’all have seen that man protecting his sister and he protects you just as much as Naomi. Once the person is creepy and fishy, it’s game over and it’s like a switch turned within him.

➤ When you get uncomfortable and feel bothered by whoever’s flirting with you, Tanizaki takes over faster than you could ask him for help. “I don’t care who you are or what you’re trying to achieve here, but bend even a hair of hers and you’ll severely regret it.” His eyes are dull, voice firm and serious as he gets his point across. 

➤ Feels genuinely jealous when you seemingly ignore him for someone else, though. None of Tanizaki’s tries of joining the conversation are successful, not even him touching your hand or being a bit more touchy than usually gains your attention. It’s then that his voice sounds a little bit more lifeless and gains your observance. “[Name], weren’t we on a date?” You know you messed up.

➤ You kindly say goodbye to whoever’s flirting with you and ask Tanizaki what’s wrong - it’s just not his kind and easily flustered self

➤ “You seemed to be having fun with them, don’t you?”

➤ “Tanizaki, they were just being nice-”

➤ Give him the puppy eyes and everything is forgiven, though. Tanizaki could never, in his entire life, be genuinely mad at you. Yes, he might be upset that you ignored him for good 5 minutes straight, but that’s it.

Chuuya Nakahara

➤ Chuuya rarely gets jealous. He puts 110% of his faith and trust in you and knows that you do the same. A relationship that’s loyal to the bone.

➤ He can stand it for a little while when e.g. Tachihara is getting a little too friendly and touchy with you. Of course, you return the gesture, believing that he’s just being nice to you and not actually flirting. After all, no one but Chuuya had ever really flirted with you or so you believed.

➤ We all know that man’s temper is as short as his height, so it wouldn’t take long for him to snatch you away from Tachihara and dump a load of work on him. “Chuuya, what is all that work for?!” Tachihara would obviously complain, not quite understanding why all of a sudden he was assigned to pretty lame jobs. Chuuya just waves him off, pulling you into his side and temper tested. “You don’t flirt with taken people. If you do, you’ll simply have to carry the consequences.” 

➤ Tachihara wasn’t aware you were in a relationship with Chuuya. After all, being an executive was a lot of work, he often came home late and your paths with Chuuya didn’t cross as often as you’d like, but y’all still make it work. 

➤ At that moment, Chuuya makes an effort to see you more often during the day, have you closer by his side and let people know that you’re his and his alone. He’ll then bring you along to meetings, lets you sit on his lap when it’s just paperwork he has to finish for Mori and holds your hand at the mafia headquarters.

➤ It’s not like Chuuya has never held your hand. He just never thought of it as necessary and you never complained about it either, so he assumed it was okay.

➤ Chuuya introduces you to Kouyou, knowing that word will get around faster. Now, Kouyou isn’t a woman of gossip but she will assume that Mori is aware of the relationship Chuuya shares with you and casually goes “Chuuya’s partner is pretty cute, don’t you think so, Mori-san?” and Mori stops whatever he’s doing, “You mean like a..relationship?”

➤ Mori will spread word like wildfire. Elise scolds him.

➤ “Now everyone knows you’re mine, shrimp,” Chuuya pats your head and messes up your hair affectionately. You can’t help the huff slipping your lips and look up at him with a questioning look. “Big reaction for someone so small.”

➤ “cOME HERE, YOU LITTLE-”

➤ The next day everyone knows about your relationship with Chuuya and knows better than to hit on you. Not only did Mori run his mouth, but your neck was pretty colorful and Chuuya was extra cocky that day.

#bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #ranpo edogawa #ranpo x reader #jun'ichirō tanizaki #tanizaki x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader

[joel-millerr]

Righting The Wrongs

Chapter Eight of We Are One When Together

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 17k (yes, I know, I’m sorry)

Summary: Reader must face her past, and also deal with something they weren’t prepared to do... be without Mando.

Warnings: SMUT! rough sex (like... almost causing bruising so read with caution), oral sex (both female and male receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, shower sex, hair pulling, aftercare, a little bit of violence, angst (as per usual), 

A/N: I make shit up about using the force lol. also, my knowledge of coruscant is based off tcw and the prequels so if there’s something in here that doesn’t fit with the books or whatever, be nice :) 

--

“Who are we meeting here?”

“Someone I used to work with.”

As you make your way through the streets of Level 1313, you’re almost trembling with nerves. It’s a little over a year since you’ve been on this planet and you had been avoiding coming back ever since.

Firstly, Coruscant is way too populated for your liking. The streets are always filled with people, no matter the time of day. Crime lords, spice lords, rookies trying to make a living—legally or illegally, families seeking refuge; nearly every single person from all walks of life eventually made their way to Coruscant, overcrowding the streets and making it almost impossible to breathe.

Secondly, the lower levels of Coruscant basically have their own crime empire. Every illegal thing you could possibly think of existed here. The black market thrived, and the smuggling business was always booming. Despite your old profession being one of the very empires that fueled this economy, you didn’t like the idea of living and breathing that life. There was always a need to get away, forget about the job for a couple weeks and then, when you were itching for the thrill, you’d eventually return. Unlike you, your crew would live out their days here, getting high and drinking more than their own body weight in alcohol.

Thirdly, the last time you were here… didn’t really end well. In your defense, it wasn’t your fault that a shootout ensued—you were just trying to get the right amount of payment for the right amount of work. It’s not your fault they disagreed and resorted to shooting their way out of the deal, and it’s definitely not your fault a few of them died…

Needless to say, Coruscant was just another planet that you ended up leaving on rough terms.

Mando stays by your side as you walk together, so close in fact that your arms keep brushing against each other as you trek through the lower levels of the city. Even during the day, there’s very little light down here. You’ve ever only known what it’s like to live so deep underground and sometimes you’d daydream about what a life in the upper levels looked like. Do they live as extravagant as you imagine they do? You were told by a few drunk strangers in cantinas that the people who lived in the upper levels lived in huge apartments, way bigger than they ever needed to. Was that true? The idea of someone living in a home that actually overlooks the Coruscant skyline is something you can’t even wrap your head around. You’re convinced anyone who lives up there sold their soul for it. There can’t be another reason for it.

Upon arriving, Mando thought it was best to leave the kid on the ship. You—on the other hand, noted that the safest place for him is with you two. Besides, trusting that Grogu wouldn’t get himself into trouble while you’re both gone is a risk neither of you should be willing to take. Reluctantly, he gave in and now the kid is sitting in the makeshift pouch Mando made for him.

“Mando, I don’t like this,” you mumble under your breath.

“Neither do I, but we don’t really have a choice,” he replies, keeping his visor fixated on what’s in front of him. “You can go back to the ship with the kid, if you want.”

“And leave you here alone? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

Realistically, you’re both aware Mando can handle his own in whatever could happen, but over your time together, you two have become somewhat of a unit. One doesn’t leave without the other. It’s an unspoken thing—no one bothered to mention it but also, neither of you have denied the company.

Ever since Mando’s confession, there’s definitely been a shift in your relationship.

The biggest change is that he’s become much more vocal. He shares his opinions more openly, he engages in conversation a lot more, and he’s not shy about showing you small displays of affection whenever he wants. When he moves passed you on the Crest, his hand always touches the small of your back or your hand if it’s within reach.

He’s also been a lot more engaging with Grogu. You can’t help but notice that whenever he holds him, Mando flexes his finger so that the kid can wrap his little claws around it. He speaks to Grogu a lot more and in turn, the kid mumbles incoherently back at him, as if Mando can understand him.  

It’s probably only been two days since Mando’s opened up to you about his favorite color—although you can’t be sure because time in hyperspace tends to blend together, but there’s been a lifetime amount of change that’s happened since and seeing him become more open and giving around both you and Grogu just reminds you of that softer side to Mando that he doesn’t share with many people.

As you look around and take in your surroundings, the streets begin to look extremely familiar. On your left, you see the diner you used to frequent with your old crew. They had some of the best sliders you’ve ever had. Even thinking about it now makes your stomach rumble.

Maybe you could pop in for a quick meal. You’re about to tell Mando about it but catch yourself just before you do.

He doesn’t take the helmet off. Kriff, how could you forget something so blatantly obvious. You haven’t even seen his face yet and for just a split second you thought he’d take his helmet off in a room full of people just to eat with you?

Stupid.

Shaking the thought of your mind, you try to ignore the sudden ache you feel in your chest.

“We’re close,” you hear Mando say and your previous thought is wiped from your mind. It’s now that you realize which cantina you’ve been walking towards, and when you turn the corner and see it, your heart drops.

The cantina you’re meeting this person Mando used to work with is unfortunately the very same cantina you used to celebrate with your squad after a successful spice run. A night full of drinking that usually ended with some random typical bar fight. Words spoken, blasters drawn, and the very rare shootout. Regardless of the night outcome, you were always back in the cantina the next night like nothing happened.

As you near the door, your feet suddenly feel like durasteel, gravity pulling you into the ground, stopping you from taking another step forward. Your heart is already in your stomach, heating your body up with haste. Stars, you haven’t been here in so kriffing long, and the possibility of getting smacked in the face with your past is something you didn’t plan.

Mando seems to sense your tentativeness because he turns his body to face you, his hand catching your forearm. “Are you okay?”

Trying to reassure him, the corners of your mouth curl into what could be considered a smile, although your eyes are screaming to leave.

Wherever he goes, you go, you remind yourself.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, passing him and squaring your shoulders just as the cantina door slides up. It’s in the early evening hours, so it isn’t too populated inside—just some of the regulars you’ve noticed that are always there, no matter what time of the day it is. Trying your best not to draw any attention to yourself, you drop your head down slightly, eyes shifting around the room, hoping you won’t catch sight of anyone who might know who you are.

Your attempts to be subtle are gone with the wind once Mando enters. The energy changes straightaway. All the chatter goes deafeningly quiet as a dozen heads turn towards you and having so many eyes on you causes your cheeks to heat up. For a moment, you had forgotten that travelling with a Mandalorian causes heads to turn and voices to hush. Of course, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride whenever you see strangers make the connection that you and Mando are together, but it’s quickly followed by major anxiety. Being stealthy and trying to keep to the shadows is damn near impossible when there’s a man standing next to you covered in what is arguably the most reflective durasteel in the galaxy.

“No fucking way,” you hear someone exclaim. Letting out a sigh of defeat, you turn your head in direction of the voice and see a female Twi’lek coming right for you. “Is that really you?”

“Dank farrik,” you mumble before they’re within listening range. Mando’s helmet cranes towards you.

“I thought you were dead!” Their arms wrap around your torso before you can even process what’s happening.

“Hey, Sula.”

“Stars, is that really you?” Another voice beckons, a hand clamping down on your shoulder, “You here for a job?” The male Rodian asks.

“Nah, not this time Odas,” you answer, angling your neck in the direction of the Mandalorian standing just a few inches away from you.

“Holy shit. A Mandalorian?”

“I’ll leave you to it,” The modulator informs you, and then he’s sauntering over to the bar. It’s not lost on you that for the first time in days, he’s left without reaching out to touch you in some way. Fortunately, you don’t have time to dwell on it before someone’s talking to you again.

“Come have a drink,” Odas begins to say, “It’s been too long since we’ve seen you.”

Your eyes drift off to look at Mando who’s in the middle of speaking to the droid behind the bar.

“Uh—” Before you can kindly decline the offer, Sula grabs onto your wrist and nearly drags you over to the table they were all previously sitting at. Already seated is Venka, a nasty piece of work. You haven’t worked with many Trandoshans, but the ones you have worked with were ruthless and dangerous. Each of them wanted blood, no matter what the situation was.

Odas pulls a chair from a nearby table and gestures for you to sit. Unenthusiastically, you slide into the seat.

“Everyone said the New Republic got your ass. Glad to see we were wrong,” Odas says with a smile, grabbing your shoulder and giving it a gentle shake.

“Travelling with a Mandalorian? How the hell did that happen?” Sula asks.

“I didn’t even know there were any Mandalorians left,” Venka mutters, clearly peeved about something.

“How much are you paying him to protect you?”

“What?” Eyebrows pulling closely together, you look over to Odas quizzically.

“She’s probably paying him in other ways, if you know what I mean,” Sula laughs, bumping her elbow against your arm.

“Oh, shut up, Sula. It’s not like that.”

Odas props his elbows on the table and leans in closer towards you. “Then do tell us how you managed to slip through the New Republic’s grip and then somehow get a Mandalorian by your side, because they’re like the—”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve all heard the stories. ‘Best warriors in the galaxy’. So, they say anyway,” Venka hisses through his snout.

“Still hate them, huh?” Sula jests.

“I just don’t see it. Apparently, they’re the best warriors in the galaxy yet the Empire wiped them all out.”

“If that were true, there wouldn’t be one standing just over there,” your finger points to Mando still standing at the bar.

“Oh, okay,” Sula throws her hands up in defense. “We get it, you’re with him now.”

All of a sudden, you hear Mando’s voice coming from the commlink in your ear. “Stay here. I’m going to meet them in the back.”

Your body stills, wanting to get up and join in but knowing you can’t very well just get up and leave your old friends without so much as another word. As ridiculous as it seems, you feel like you owe it to them to stick around for a bit.

“Are you all waiting for the next job?” You ask, trying to distract yourself from the fact that Mando’s just gone off on his own. He can handle himself; you repeat in your head.

“Yeah, supposed to take off at first light,” Odas answers before throwing back a glass of red liquor.

“Still room on the ship, if you want to join.”

“Thanks, Sula, but I’m pretty much done with smuggling.”

Venka all but chokes on his beverage. “Kriffing hell, you’re kidding.”

Shaking your head slowly and lips pressing into a thin line, “It’s just not for me, anymore,” you say, glaring at him.

“Not for you?” He grits out.  

“Isn’t that what I just said?” You snap, feeling the annoyance itching inside you.

“Okay, let’s just take it down a notch, all right? We’re just a couple of old friends catching up. That’s all,” Sula interjects, in hopes to deescalate the situation.

Venka rolls his eyes before finishing his drink, swallowing it with a snarl. Why are Trandoshans so aggressive with everything that they do?

Sula clears her throat to ask, “So, what are you doing back here? Last time you were here, I believe you said, ‘I refuse to return to this shithole of a planet’.”

“I’m sure we’ve all said that about this kriffing planet at least once or twice, but we always find our way back, don’t we?” Odas says to you, shrugging his shoulders.

“I’m not really sure why we’re here—” You start to say but are cut off by Venka.

“So, your partner doesn’t bother keeping you informed? How nice.”

“Oh, shut up, Venka. You’re so negative,” Sula scolds.

Turning your attention to him with poison in your eyes, you ask him, “What’s your problem?”

He slams his cup on the table, red liquid spilling all over the surface. It’s not uncommon for him to try and pick a fight, so you’re not entirely surprised by his behavior right now. You’ve only ever lost your temper on him once and Tye was able to pull you away before something really bad happened.

“You’re seriously going to come back here as if you did nothing wrong? Everyone—and I mean everyone here, was worried about you, and not a single fucking one of us received a hologram from you saying you weren’t in prison.

“And when Tye told us that a kriffing Mandalorian snatched you up, we thought ‘she’s a goner’. But here you are, parading him around here like a fucking trophy.”

Caught up in the moment, you almost miss what Venka’s just told you. “Wait, Tye’s alive?”

“Yeah, he’s alive,” Sula confirms.

“He managed to escape just before your ship exploded. He was pretty fucked up for a while, but he’s a lot stronger than we give him credit for,” Odas admits.

“I… didn’t know,” your voice is low, filled with guilt.

Venka laughs, answering you with derision in his voice. “No fucking shit.”

“I didn’t come here to parade him around. I didn’t even know we’d be coming here,” you explain, then angling your head to Odas, you ask, “Is Tye here?”

Before Odas can answer, Venka speaks up. “Why? So, you can finish the job?”

“Fuck you, Venka.”

Reptilian eyes glower at you, your own are all but seething in anger as you scowl back. Trandoshans—at least the one’s you’ve had the unpleasure of meeting, are always on the prowl for a fight. They purposely get under everyone’s skin in hopes to rile them up. Usually, you’ve been able to keep your anger under control but that was mostly because you had Tye to keep you in check, to bring you back down from a blind rage. Now that he’s not here, you’re sure everyone at this table doesn’t really want a fight but that they’ll happily watch if it comes down to one.  

“Excuse yourself. We’re leaving. I’ll meet you outside,” Mando’s voice suddenly cuts into your ear. Thank the Maker.

“Let’s just all calm down, okay?” Odas finally interjects.

“Actually,” you start to say, taking the drink in your cup that you haven’t touched and chugging it all in one gulp, “I have to go. It was nice catching up with you guys, though.”

Once on your feet, you turn on your heel and make for the door. Just as you’re about to head out through the doorway, you hear Venka hiss at you, “Does he at least take helmet off when he fucks you?”  

You should ignore him; you should just take the last two steps through the cantina door and disappear. You reallyshouldn’t turn around and punch him square in the face.

But, sometimes, they deserve it. So without another thought, you’re already stomping back over to the table, pushing chairs out of your way as you walk straight up to Venka, and punch him in the nose with so much force, he loses his footing and falls flat on his back. The cantina goes dead silent—everyone staring at you in complete shock.

“Is Tye here?” You ask, chest heaving.

“Uh… yeah, he’s at your old apartment. He’s coming with us on the job,” Sula responds, stunned that you actually just punched Venka in the nose.

“Thanks for the drink,” you say to her before whipping your body around and making your way to the door. It’s not clear, but you think you hear Venka shout something at you, something with the word ‘bitch’ in it, but you’ve already made your point. It’s not worth going back to hear what he has to say.

Looking down at the hand you used to strike him, you notice three of your knuckles are split open, little drops of blood running down your hand. In an effort to conceal this from Mando, you wipe it haphazardly along your thigh, just as you exit the doors.

Mando’s leaning against the door, his hands resting on his belt and once he sees you, he kicks himself off the duracrete wall to stand.

“What happened?” He asks, taking note of how erratic your breathing is. When the visor looks down at your hands, he grabs hold of your wrist, pulling your hand to him and inspecting the small gashes on your knuckles.

“It’s nothing,” you attempt to assume him, trying to jerk your arm out of his grip, but Mando’s much stronger than you, so he pulls your hand closer to his cuirass.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I really don’t want to get into it.”

His sigh breaks up in his helmet and you know he wants to press you again, but he ultimately doesn’t. “You took care of it?”

“I did.”

“Good,” he answers tentatively, giving your wrist a gentle squeeze and then letting go, starting to head for the hangar. You linger for a moment, staring down at your busted up hand and watching the tiny droplets of blood bead down your skin.

Fucking Trandoshans, you think to yourself.

As you stroll through the crowded streets, mulling over the conversation you had with your old friends, you quickly realize that if Tye really is here, you need to see him. You need to explain why you did what you did or didn’t do, as well as show him that you’re okay. Actually, that you’re more than okay. You’re the best you’ve ever felt which makes you feel incredibly guilty.

“Mando,” you call out because he’s a few feet ahead of you. He stops in his tracks and waits for you to catch up to him.

“There’s something I need to do before I go back.”

Grogu coos worriedly, his ears drooping.

“I’ll be okay, little guy,” you assure him, simultaneously trying to convince Mando the same.

Mando shakes his head. “No. It’s too dangerous.”

“I’ll leave the commlink open,” you say in an effort to ease his apprehension.

“No,” he says more sternly, the modulator dangerously low.

“Two hours. That’s all I’m asking for. If in two hours I don’t check in, feel free to tear this city apart looking for me, but I need to do this and I need to do this alone.”

Mando sighs begrudgingly, the sound breaking apart through the helmet. “Fine. Two hours.”

You mouth ‘thank you’ before disappearing through a crowd of people, and then darting down a dark alley.

With your hand hovering over your blaster, you slip through various streets and alleys on your way to the apartment you and Tye shared in between jobs. Every step you take makes your heart race faster, the reality of the situation sinking in. You hadn’t even taken the time to consider that Tye might not even want to see you. The last time you spoke, you hadn’t parted on good terms and now that he probably knows you’re still alive… it’s not going to be an easy conversation.

When you turn the corner onto the street of the apartment, you’re practically quivering. Your heart is thumping against your ribcage, palms are sweating, and you think about turning around. No one would know you were here if you left. The chances of you coming back to Coruscant after this are slim to none—you could do it.

No.

You have to stop running away from things that need to be faced. You’ve been running your entire life, trying to keep yourself busy in an attempt to forget about your responsibilities. Truthfully, you’re tired of running away. It’s time to right your wrongs.

Once you reach the building, your eyes slam shut and take a deep breath, exhaling slowly through your lips and head inside. Climbing up the stairs slowly, you hold onto the railing to steady yourself. The anxiety is really getting to you, now.

Was this a bad idea?

Fuck.

To your surprise, the door is open. Either it’s been abandoned, or you think he’s expecting you. Feet hovering in the doorframe, the pounding in your ears is damn near deafening but you press on, taking a step forward and then another and then another until you’re standing in the hallway of the apartment. The door hisses shut behind you, causing you to jump at the sudden sound.

The place is almost unrecognizable. The furniture in the sitting room is flipped upside down, shards of broken transparisteel littered around the room, and the room’s so dark, you can barely see a thing. The only light source illuminated the room is coming from the outside lamp posts, highlighting the disaster that’s displayed in front of your eyes. You begin chewing on the inside of your cheek, becoming more aware of the possible danger you’ve just walked into.

“So, you’re alive,” you hear in the darkness.

“Tye?” You ask aloud, eyes shifting around the room, trying to locate where the voice came from.

A silhouette appears from the kitchen, illuminated by the outside light fixtures. The shadow look like him, but it also doesn’t. The voice sounds like Tye, but its’ darker, rougher.

“Kriff, you’re actually here.”

You take a couple steps forward, stopping just shy of the counter that separates the kitchen from the seating area. Tye stands in the kitchen, hands pressing into the marble surface, taking you in. As his features become clearer, your breath catches in your throat.

Your best friend since you were a child. The one person that’s saved your life more times than you can count. The single person in this galaxy that has been with you through the darkest moments in your life. The person you thought you had seen die right before your eyes, standing just a few feet away from you.

There’s a darkness in his eyes that you don’t recognize. His eyes were a gentle, warm shade of green that made others gravitate towards him. They used to bring you comfort; you could be at your lowest and then when you’d look up at him, you’d feel at ease.

Now when you look at them, all you see are broken fragments of tainted memories. Like all the pain and suffering he’s endured in the last few months has been bundled up and are now locked in his eyes for everyone to see.

You want to reach out, but something’s stopping you. There’s not a single thing you recognize about him. Hair that was once blonde is gone, shaved off. His shoulders are more sunken too. He used to hold himself with such confidence, not unlike the kind of strut that Mando carries himself with. Tye’s cheekbones are more pronounced as well, and it worries you that he’s begun using spice more than he used to.

Unsurprisingly, it was somewhat normal for smugglings get high on the supply they were trafficking, and you’ve seen Tye do it from time to time. You—on the other hand, never did. You had seen what it could do to its abusers, and you knew better than to do something that foolish. It was kind of a twisted morality code. Willing to smuggle it and let others abuse it, and yet you thought you were above using it yourself.

“What happened to you?” You ask him, completely in disbelief that this is what Tye has become.

“They said you were back, but I didn’t believe them,” he murmurs, his voice so low that you barely catch what he says, his gaze fixated towards the ground.

Maker, even the way he talks is different. Tye had the bubbliest of characters. He was larger than life, his voice echoed in every room he was in, boisterous and kind. The type of intonation that was infectious. Now, his voice is rough, it’s terse—like all the joy has been sucked out of him and now there’s just a hollow sound left.

This isn’t the man you grew up with.

The thought makes you nauseous.

Did you do this to him?

Are you the reason he’s so… different?

“Why didn’t you tell me or anyone that you were okay?” He nearly croaks.

Guilt overwhelms you. “I… thought you were dead.”

Tye lets out a noise that’s similar to a laugh, but you know damn well he means anything but that. He takes a step back, rubbing the back of his head and takes a sharp breath.

“You could have sent someone a hologram. You could have come back to Kijimi. Stars, you could have come here but you didn’t.”

Your jaw hangs, trying to find the words that might justify why exactly you didn’t tell anyone that you were never arrested, but whatever reason you come up with hangs on your tongue, unable to actually speak. It all just happened so fast.

“I had to hear from fucking Sula that you were—not only alive, but that you’re actually fucking traveling with the same Mandalorian that hunt you down. The one that shot me out of the kriffing sky,” his anger grows with every word.

“All these months, I blamed myself for what happened. I thought ‘she’s probably dead by now and that’s on me. I was supposed to protect her, and I failed’.” He rambles, voice cracking.

“I fucked up, Tye and I’m sorry, but you have to believe me when I tell you that I didn’t intend for any of this happen. Everything happened so fast, I couldn’t��” Your voice trails off, too many thoughts racing to your mind, unable to sift through them and think of a coherent explanation.

“Why are you with him?”

“He… saved my life, Tye.”

Tye crosses his arms against his chest, scoffing. “What?”

And so, you tell what happened. You tell him about Nevarro, about the Empire, about what Ahsoka told you. As you explain everything, Tye’s expression changes from resentment to almost disbelief.

“A Jedi?”

“If I wanted to train… yeah.”

“Well fuck, look at you,” he mocks.

“Don’t patronize me, I’m trying to explain myself.”

Tye holds his hands out in defense. “Whatever you say, boss.”

Wringing your hands, you wait for him to say something else… but he doesn’t. He stares at you, like he’s waiting for you to say something else.

“So… what does this mean for us, now?” Your voice is soft, hoping there’s some possibility of reconciliation.

“There is no ‘us’ anymore,” he says lowly.

“Okay, I half expected that…” you admit, rubbing the back of your neck absentmindedly.

Not surprising.

“Did you really think that you could come back here and give me some bullshit excuse and expect us to be friends again? After the shit you put me through?”

“I guess not.”

Tye says nothing else, keeping the same expression on his face. Betrayal, pain, anger. It’s all staring you right in the face.

“Time’s up,” Mando’s gruff voice whispers in your ear.

Cursing to the Maker, you want more time. There has to be something else you can say to him that’ll better explain why you didn’t ask anybody if he was still alive but then you realize, you just didn’t do enough. Quite frankly, you did nothing. You should have done something, you could have done something but ultimately, you didn’t and that’s something you’ll just have to life with.

“I should head back,” you tell Tye, who just shrugs at you. Turning on your heel, you look over your shoulder to see him still standing in the kitchen. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re still alive.”

Please say something, you say to yourself as you make for the doorway.

He doesn’t.

--

“Everything all right?” Mando asks you as soon as you’re walking up the ramp.

“Yeah,” is all you answer.

He doesn’t press you, taking note of the way you’re clearly not in the mood for chatter.

You prop your elbows atop one of the crates, leaning on it and staring down at the ground. Feeling guilty about bringing down the energy inside the Crest, you find yourself trying to make conversation, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“What happened with your friend at the cantina?”

“They need me to do a job, and then we’ll have enough credits to pay for the fuel we’ll need in order to get to Tython.”

Raising an eyebrow, you ask, “What kind of job?”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll be staying here with the kid.” He answers dryly.

Stunned, you push off the crate and turn your body to him, facing Mando head on and crossing your arms across your chest.

“Is there a problem?” He asks, taking in your body language.

“What if you need help?”

“It’s a four-person job. They had three before I agreed.”

“Which means you’ll be outnumbered if something goes wrong,” you retort, eyebrow cocked.

“I need you to stay with the kid.”

You clamp down on your jaw, tapping your foot on the ground while you consider his last words. “I don’t like this, at all.”

“You don’t have to, but it isn’t up for discussion.”

“But—”

“No.”

Exhaling sharply through your nose, you know he’s right. It is safer for someone to be with the kid and it’s not exactly like you can do the job instead. Once again, you’re stuck following Mando’s orders.

“So then, when do you head out?”

“Soon. I should be back before morning,” he answers, rummaging through his armory.

“Where’s Grogu?”

“Sleeping in the cockpit.”

“Mmm,” you hum in the back of your throat. Noticing Mando’s back stiffen, he takes one of the blasters off the wall, and inspects it.

As you watch him examine his weapons and take in the way he twitched hearing you purr, a cunning thought crosses your mind.

Since he refuses to let you come along, you want to give him a reason to be counting down the minutes until he’s back with you on the Crest. It’s not that you want him distracted, but the possessive side of you wants him to be constantly reminded that you’ll be waiting here—for him.

Without trying to be discrete, you saunter over to the armory, making sure to graze his arm against yours as you pass by him to pick up one of the multiple blasters hanging on the wall. Holding it your hand, you twist the gun around, in an unbashful attempt to get his attention, puffing your chest out as you stare down at the weapon in your hand. You can feel the visor on you, but you don’t look up. Instead, your gaze stays glued to what’s in your palm, knowing Mando’s studying you carefully, like he’s trying to understand what you’re trying to do.

Putting the gun back on its placeholder, you saunter passed him, the tips of your fingers hooking onto his cape, stroking the fabric between your fingers, then dropping it as you head over to the small closet where the ration packs are kept.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

Turning around to look at him, you cross your arms along your chest and with the most innocent tone you can, your tongue darts across your bottom lip and then whisper, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mando tilts his head and lets out a deep breath that scratches through the modulator, but he makes no move on you. Rather, he goes back to inspecting the weapon that’s sitting on one of the higher crates.

Okay… so you’ll have to be more unsubtle. Craning your neck to either side, you let out a small groan as you hear your bones crack, but once again, Mando’s visor stays peeled to the gun. Starting to get annoyed at the lack of attention he’s giving you, you start to wonder if you should pull back, give up and wait until he comes back in the morning, but honestly? You don’t want to give up. You know you can seduce him; you just need to find the right trigger. Feeling some courage and boldness suddenly overcome you, your feet bring you over to where Mando is standing, and come up right next to him, leaning back on the crate and propping your elbows on the crate behind you, puffing your chest out even more to showcase your breasts. He glances over at you for just a moment and clears his throat. “What?”

“Nothing,” you answer with a devilish smile. You’re almost close enough for your arms to brush against each other, but you stop yourself from closing the gap.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he tells you, voice strained and tight.

“Enlighten me, then.”

“No.”

Inching yourself closer to him, your hand grazes the vambrace on his right arm. He makes no sound, but by the way his chest puffs in and out, you know you’re getting under his skin, and that makes you even bolder. With your right hand, you grab onto his vambrace and slide between him and the wooden crate, essentially pinning yourself between the two. Mando groans deeply, his head craning to the left, exposing just the smallest amount of skin as he does. Stars, even just the sight of his neck causes you to squirm, rubbing your thighs together.

“Not enough time,” he pleads, nearly fucking panting.

“Mmm,” you whine back, bringing both your hands to grab at his waist, digging your fingernails into the fabric just above his utility belt. When Mando doesn’t pull away, you slide one of your legs between his, feeling his growing erection against your knee. His visor looks down at you and you can’t help but bite your lip in an attempt to hide the smug smile from forming. His hands are on either side of your body, pressing into the wood so hard you can hear it crackling under his firm grip.

Leaning into his body, your neck cranes upwards and you’re forced to go on the tips of your toes to whisper into the side of his helmet where his ear would be, “If you want me to stop, just say the word.”

“Fuck…” is all he manages to say, and then you’re slowly dropping to your knees, your face aligning with the bulge in his pants.

Your hands fumble down to the utility belt, but through hooded lids, you continue to look into Mando’s visor. Unhooking the belt, you push his flak vest out of your way and find the waistband to his trousers. Mouth practically watering, you swallow hard, and finally tear your eyes away to look at the bulge between his legs. Your pussy gushes as one of your hands push against the waistband to cup him inside his pants. Mando jerks forward at the touch, a guttural groan etching through the vocoder.

“Stars…”

You pull his pants down just enough for his cock and balls to spring free, and your jaw fucking drops at the sight. This is the first time you’re seeing him, truly seeing him. In that alley on Tatooine, it was too dark for you to be able to observe him, but now? Fuck, he’s a goddamn sight.

It’ll never seize to amaze you just how fucking big he is, it’s a shock he’s able to fit all of himself inside you. Steadying him by wrapping your hand around him at the base, you take a moment to appreciate him. Mando’s uncut with just tip of his head poking through. There’s a bead of precome forming from the tip, and you dart your tongue passed your lips to lap it up, the taste of him on your tongue makes you hum.

Your free hand settles on his thigh, while the other begins to slowly stroke up and down his length, licking up every bit of precome that oozes from the tip.

“Ah, shit… Feels so go—” He begins to say but is cut off by you engulfing his entire length in your mouth.

Mando grazes the back of your throat, and your body tenses, fighting the urge to gag. You pull away from him slowly, hallowing your cheeks as you feel every vein of his cock until he slips through your lips with a loud, wet pop. Your tongue darts along your bottom lip, coating it with saliva before taking him once again. Repeating the process a few more times, and feeling Mando writhe from your slow taunt, he unexpectedly becomes impatient. His hips grind against you, practically begging for more. He’s entirely at your mercy, being the one in control right now is making you dizzy. To see someone as strong and commanding as Mando practically mewling because of you is sending you on a power-trip.

When you take him in your mouth again, instead of pulling away, you begin bobbing your head up and down his cock, the wet sounds echoing through the Crest walls. Already, you’re getting better at taking him into your mouth without gagging as much. Because of his size, you do end up gagging a couple times, your body tensing as he grazes the back of your throat, but you press on, because hearing Mando praise you over and over is intoxicating.

“Kriff, your mouth feels so fucking good… fuck… makes me want to bend you over his crate and fuck you until you’re begging to come.”

Hearing him only spurs you on, guiding him as far as he can go, and letting him just sit in your mouth, swirling your tongue around his girth, precome dripping down your throat. It’s salty, but it’s also the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted in your life. A mixture of saliva and precome dribbles down your chin, but you continue to swallow as much of him as you possibly can, nothing’s going to stop you from making him come like this.

Your panties are fucking soaking now, pussy throbbing and damn near hurting from the lack of touch. All your concentration is being focused on making Mando feel good, and he knows it. He knows this is for him, and he’s reveling in it.

“I bet you’re so fucking wet right now, pretty girl,” he pants, placing one of his hands behind your head and cradling it gently as he begins to fuck your mouth. Just as you start to feel him twitch inside you, a faint alarm begins to ring, and you feel him still.

He has to leave.

“I-I ha-ave to go,” he whimpers, your lips still firmly wrapped around his cock.

But you don’t stop. When you feel him try to pull away, your hands grab onto his hips, digging your fingers into him and trying your hardest to keep him right where he is, and begin sucking him even faster, bobbing your head up and down his length at a quicker pace.

“Oh fuck… that feels so fucking good.”

The alarm is still ringing, but you don’t care. You’ll make damn sure he’ll come, you just need a few more minutes…

He holds your shoulders, keeping you in place and then he’s backing away from you. His cock slips through your lips, leaving a trail of spit behind that falls down your chin. Before you can begin to feel disappointed, Mando hooks his arms under yours and lifts you to your feet, only to spin you around and push you against the crate, bending you over, the gun falling to the ground.

“Do you see what you do to me?” He growls at you, grabbing the waistband of your pants and pulling them down to your knees. “I have to leave.”

Your chest is heaving, arousal making your head spin as you wait impatiently for what he’ll do next. “So, go,” you mutter breathlessly.

“You want me to leave?” He taunts. You hear something light hit the ground, and then he’s pushing your underwear to the side and cupping your sex with calloused fingers.

“Fuck!” You cry out, the touch already relieving some of the building pressure.

“Maker, you’re fucking soaked,” he admires, and then he’s sticking two thick fingers deep inside your pussy, curling them and hitting that spot inside you that nearly blinds you. Jerking forwards, your stomach digs into the blunt edge of the crate, but feeling Mando’s fingers fuck you overpowers the discomfort. It’s desperate, it’s rough, and hurried but that makes it all so much more exhilarating.

“I’m gonna c-come,” you pant into surface, almost surprised at how close your orgasm is.

Mando suddenly stops, pulling his fingers out of you and smearing your slick all over your entrance and clit.

The tip of his cock pokes your entrance, but he doesn’t move. He strokes himself between your folds, teasing you. “I have to go,” he groans.

You grind your hips against him, and push your ass out, arching your back in the hope that he’ll slide inside you, and to your surprise, he does. He aligns his hips with yours and slams right into you, pushing you further up the crate, fully sheathing himself between your walls.

He wastes no time fucking you, holding both your shoulders and jackhammering into you so hard, there’s no fucking air in your lungs. Your feeble whimpers are breathless and empty, jaw fully slack as he continues to wreck your cunt.

“Mando? Where the hell are you?” A voice comes from the commlink on his vambrace.

“Fuck,” he growls, somehow quickening his pace and driving you fucking insane. You don’t even know how close you are to coming until it’s ripping through you, almost making you convulse underneath him, sobbing brokenly into the air. Your fingernails are digging into the wood so violently, you hear it splinter. Knees buckling, you’re already completely spent, riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“You’re supposed to be here by now. Mando, where the fuck are you?”

Grinding his hips even more into your ass, he bends over so his cuirass is pressed against your back, his cock hitting a part inside you that only he knows how to touch. You’re so fucking full, a second orgasm is moments away if he continues to fuck you from this angle.

“Do you see what you do to me? Ah—shit, I’m supposed to be with them, but—fuck, instead I’m here,” He snarls in your ear, the side of his helmet grazing your cheek.

Tears are forming in the corners of your eyes, feeling his body weight press you into the hard surface, and his cock driving you fucking wild. Your mind is blank, your throat is bone dry—unable say a fucking word. You’re helpless underneath him.

“Pretty girl, you’re going to be the death of me.”

His weight leaves you, and then he’s grabbing both your hands, crossing your arms behind your back and holding them in place with one hand. He starts a pace so mind-blowing hard, pounding his cock inside you and hitting your cervix with every thrust. It’s the most delicious pain you’ve ever experienced. If it were anyone else, you’d tell them to stop, but this is Mando. He knows what you can and can’t handle better than you do, so you let him slam into you at a grueling speed. You can hear his balls slap against your skin, and another orgasm begins to form deep in your belly.

He grinds into you a few more times and then he’s somehow burying himself even more inside you, and you snap. A second orgasm splits you apart, whatever pathetic noise comes out of you is drowned out by Mando’s guttural groan as he reaches his own climax, his cock pulsing as his seed is pumped deep inside you.

“Mando!” The male voice shouts once again through the commlink.

Even though you’re entirely spent, a laugh escapes you. He’s just completely ignored someone calling him just so he could finish fucking you.

“Coming,” he responds curtly, pulling out of you quickly and tucking himself back in his pants.

You don’t expect Mando to linger any longer than he absolutely needs to, so with the very little strength you have left and using your palms, you push yourself upright, knees shaking profusely, and to your surprise, he grabs the waistband of your pants and begins tugging them back up your legs.

“Mmm, it’s okay. I’ve got it,” you try to assure him, but he doesn’t listen. He shimmies them back up until they’re around your waist, and then he’s turning you to face him.

“I have to go,” he tells you, and you sense some regret in his voice. He doesn’t want to leave, either.

“I know,” you smile at him, sheepishly.

Mando reaches out, both of his hands cupping the sides of your face and presses the helmet against your forehead. The coolness of the beskar feels amazing against your hot skin. He lets out a deep breath, baritone dangerously low as it comes up tight through the helmet. You press back into him, closing your eyes and taking in this sweet, tender moment. Letting out a deep breath through your nostrils, the smell of beskar and Mando’s own scent—a mix of soap that you’ve grown used to smelling on yourself, as well as hints of sweetness and musk, almost drowns you but in the best fucking way possible.

“Come back in one piece, okay?”

He doesn’t respond, only continues to hold your face in his hands. Time seems to still, and for a fraction of a second, it’s just you and him. It’s somehow the most intimate moment you’ve shared. Without saying a word, you say your good-bye’s and watch him head down the ramp, waiting until he’s no longer in sight before heading the fresher.

--

It’s been a couple hours since Mando left, and you hate to admit it, but you miss him… like a lot. Definitely more than you should. Come to think of it, this is the first time since Kijimi that you’ve been away from each other for this long. Ever since then, you’ve been beside each other, or at the very least knew where the other was, but right now? You have no idea where he is, who he’s with or how long he’ll be gone, and you’re driving yourself crazy.

You keep commlink open—just in case anything goes wrong, he’ll be able to contact you and while you pray to the Maker that nothing does go wrong, you can’t help but wish to hear his voice through the little speaker.

A simple check-in would instantly calm your nerves, but you know better than to call him yourself. He could be hiding; he could be in the middle of a gunfight. The last thing he needs is hearing your voice asking him if everything is okay and distracting him. Needless to say, the negatives outweigh the positives, so you continue to pace anxiously up and down the galley of the ship, waiting to hear that intoxicating voice of his.

The kid’s been up for the last half an hour, babbling to himself with that kriffing ball in his grip. You feel bad for him, being stuck in this hunk of metal all the time but risking both of your safeties just for a little walk around is simply not worth it. The quicker Mando gets the job done, the sooner you’ll be off Coruscant and on your way to Tython.

You could try to get some sleep, but you know damn well you’ll be tossing and turning in the cot, anxiously waiting to hear his voice on the commlink.

There has to be something you can do that’ll keep your mind occupied…

Grogu looks up at you in your lap, cocking his head to the side as his ears peak up at you, and then you get an idea.

Ahsoka had told you Grogu was trained at the Jedi Temple for years before being forced into hiding, and since you’re both bored, this could be the perfect time to practice. Albeit, you have no idea what you’re doing, but anything is better than sitting around waiting for Mando’s return.

At first, you consider staying within the Crest, but there isn’t nearly enough room, and quite frankly, you know the two of you could benefit from not being locked up in the ship. Picking Grogu up into your arms, and grabbing your blaster, you make for the ramp and descend it. The hangar is empty, now. The owner’s retreated for the night, so you don’t have to worry about being watched.

The hangar itself is much larger than Peli’s. Easily twice the size, and it’s located on a large platform that overlooks the underworld portal. It’s the perfect place for a quick getaway and doubles as a scenic view.

Sometimes between jobs, you’d come to one of these various hangars and spend hours just looking at the steady flow of traffic coming in and out of the lower levels. You’d sit on the edge of the hangar; feet dangling in the air and stare up in amazement that something this vast could exist in the galaxy. Thousands of different beings travelling through this canal, beings you’ll never know or see again, but being aware that each of them had their own life, their own struggles and triumphs, all travelling in the same place at the same time is almost hard to wrap your head around.

You settle Grogu on a nearby table and place your blaster just to his right, making sure to turn the safety on.

“Grogu,” you say softly, holding your hand out face up at him. “Give me the ball.”

He hesitates at first, pulling the ball closer to his chest, but you continue to coax him, speaking gently until he finally places it in your hand.

“Thanks, little guy,” smiling and wiggling your finger in front of him, you then take a couple steps back.

You could try to push the stone to him, but you haven’t the slightest idea how to do that, so instead you opt to get Grogu to take the ball from your hand. Holding the ball between your thumb and index, you begin to sweet-talk him into taking the ball from you.

“Okay, let’s do this, kid. Can you take the ball out of my hand?”

His head moves from side to side and his arms reach out as far as they can, cooing happily.

“Come on, you did it with Mando. I know you can do it.”

Squinting his eyes momentarily, his hands start to twist and all of a sudden, the stone flies from your hand into his. The baby squeals with excitement, showing you the sphere in his grip with pride, and then resumes sucking on the durasteel, no longer interested in what you had planned to keep you two busy.

You smile to yourself, amazed that this little creature can do things that you would have never anticipated. The thought of reuniting him with a Jedi and the possibility of having to say good-bye breaks your heart. You’ve grown such an attachment to him. Seeing him every day, feeding him, playing with him, watching his little face light up whenever you give him the ball, and even seeing the gentleness in Mando that Grogu exudes from him, it’s all things you’ll miss dearly.

Looking down at your palm, you wonder if you’ll also be able to wield the Force and carry something over into your hand. Eyes meeting the blaster that’s resting to Grogu’s left, you begin trying to clear your mind and focus only on the gun and bringing it into your grip. Extending your arm as far as it can, you take a deep breath and exhale through slightly parted lips, furrowing your eyebrows as your concentration on the blaster grows. All the white noise suddenly drowns out, hearing only the steady thumping of the blood in your ears. Your fingers are shaking but the gun doesn’t budge. It stays completely still on the table.

Letting out a sigh of defeat, your arm drops to your side. Maker, you know it’s possible, you’ve done it before during a fight, but of course the one time you actually try to do it without having the threat of death, you’re unable to get that kriffing blaster in your hand.

Squaring your shoulders, you close your eyes and once again try to clear your mind, focusing only on the Force—feeling it flow through your body, harnessing its power, and bending it to your will. In an attempt to steady your heartbeat, you take, deep, long burning inhales, feeling your lungs expand as much as they can, holding the breath for a few seconds, and ever so slowly letting exhaling through your nose, all the while keeping your eyes closed and maintaining your focus on the Force.

You crane your neck from side to side and roll your shoulders a couple times and then your arm slowly raises once again, lining up with the blaster, and transfer all the power you feel inside you to the palm of your hand, and then to the tips of your fingers. You can picture the blaster in your head. The soft curve of the handle that connects to its clip, the narrow barrel pointed in your direction. As you continue to piece the weapon together in your mind, you start to feel a strong current flow through your veins to the palm of your hand. It’s more powerful than anything you’ve felt before, and yet it doesn’t scare you in the slightest. Instead, it feels empowering and familiar. When you finally open your eyes, they shift to your hand and your jaw damn near drops.  

The blaster is in your hand, fingers wrapped around the handle tightly. Bringing it closer to your chest, you examine the gun as if it’s the first time you’ve ever seen it. Your eyes move between it and the table a couple feet away, completely stunned that you were actually able to do that yourself.

“Did you see that?” You call out to Grogu who’s squealing with joy. You’re not sure if he actually understands why you’re so giddy, but you’d like to think he does anyway.

Making your way over to him, you wiggle your finger in front of him and gently bop him on the nose. Not too far away, you see a piece of scrap durasteel on the floor. Peering down at Grogu, you shrug your shoulders. “Should I try it?”

He coos curiously and you take that as him saying ‘yes’. Repeating what you did previously, you raise your arm in front of you and focus on the small item and inhale through your lips, exhaling through your nostrils. Clearing your mind and only thinking of durasteel, you watch it begin to shake on the ground. Excitement sets in as it slowly lifts off the ground, hovering in the air for just a moment and then, it flies into your hand, causing you to lose your balance from the power of it.

“Oh, fuck yeah!” You exclaim.

“Holy Maker, you weren’t bullshitting me,” you hear behind you. Moving quickly, you drop the durasteel to pick Grogu up in your arms, grabbing your blaster and whipping your body around to point it at the person behind you. Tye lifts his arms, showing he’s empty handed.

“Whoa! Take it easy, I’m unarmed.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, you slip the blaster back in its holster on your thigh and take a deep breath to calm your nerves.

“You can’t just sneak up on people like that, and how the hell did you know where I was?”

“I have my ways,” he says, eyebrows darting up and down in jest. “What is that?” He asks when he sees the green baby in your arms.

“I’m not sure, really,” you answer honestly, looking down at Grogu.

“Didn’t think you had any motherly instincts.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Neither did I.”

Tye passes by you, heading for the edge of the hangar. You eye him cautiously, trying to gauge what he’s up to. When you see him sit down, feet dangling off the edge like you used to do, you walk over to him, still holding Grogu in your arms. You catch yourself just before you’re within earshot and put the kid down.

“Can I trust that you won’t tear this place apart?”

The kid mumbles something at you and begins waddling away.

“I’m keeping an eye on you, you little womp rat!” You shout at him, before strolling back over to where Tye is and sit to his right.

You’re looking at him, trying to find something recognizable about him, something that could show you he’s still the same person you knew when you were kids, but everything about him is different. He looks like an entirely new person.

“Do you remember the first time we got here?” He asks, staring at the portal’s traffic.

Your eyes leave him to look at the various ships coming in and out of the ports. “I remember thinking ‘I hate it here’.”

The corners of his lips curl into a smile. “Yeah, you always hated busy places.”

“They’re just too noisy. You can barely hear yourself think down here.”

“Yeah…”

Neither of you speak for several minutes. You know he’s here for a reason. Whether it’s to forgive you or kill you, that’s probably up to what you say next.

“Tye, I’m really sorry for what I did,” you whisper, tearing your eyes away from the portal to stare at his side profile. “I was being selfish, and I didn’t take anyone’s feelings—especially yours, into consideration.”

“You know, when I got the hologram from Sula and saw Venka’s bloody nose in the background, I just knew it was you.”

Rolling your eyes, you jab him with your elbow. “You did not.”

“You’re the only person with enough nerve to punch him.”

“That’s true… It felt pretty damn good too.”

Tye chuckles, shaking his head. The sound instantly reminds you of all the moments you’d tell him a stupid pun and watch him cackle like it’s the funniest joke he’d ever heard in his life.

“Do you ever think about getting out?” You ask him.

“Getting out?”

“Yeah, putting all this smuggling shit behind you and finding a nice, quiet planet to live out the rest of your days. Meet a local girl and settle down. Maybe even have a couple kids.”

For the first time since you sat down, Tye looks over at you, and the kindness in his eyes that had seemed to disappear is looking back at you, bringing you to your younger years on Tatooine. That outgoing, carefree kid that always got you in trouble. The guy who laughed at everything, who found the silver lining in any given situation; he’s looking right at you.

“Nah, I’m not built for that kind of life.”

“Life has a way of throwing you some curveballs.”

“I see that…” he says with that smile that always brought you joy.

It suddenly dawns on you that this is Tye’s way of saying good-bye. That—after this conversation, you’ll probably never see each other again. You’ll no longer be involved in each other’s lives. There won’t be any more meetups on Kijimi or Coruscant or any other planet, and while the thought makes your chest tighten, you understand why. Honestly, you don’t know how you’d be able to forgive a friend for doing what you did, let alone have it be your oldest friend. Without even knowing it, you’ve chosen who you wanted your family to be, and to your surprise, it isn’t Tye.

Against your better judgement, you lean your head on his shoulder. At first, he stiffens, and you worry you’ve gone too far, but then he relaxes, even craning his neck to lean his head against yours, breathing you in.

“I hate to admit it, but you seem happier.” He tells you, feeling defeated.

“Hey, are you there?”

Mando’s voice in your ear makes you jump. Putting a finger up to Tye, you excuse yourself and walk back towards the Crest, just far enough so he’s no longer without earshot, all the while making the kid hasn’t gotten into any trouble. You catch him waddling around the hangar, chasing what looks to be some kind of flying insect. Womp rat.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, pressing your finger into your ear.

“The job’s taking longer than I thought. It’ll take another day or two,” he speaks low, like he’s trying to hide the fact that he’s talking to you.

Your heart drops. Another day? You hadn’t even considered the idea that he might be gone longer than he expected. Does he need help? Has something gone wrong? Should you ask to meet him?

“Are you still there?”

“Shit, yeah, sorry I’m here,” you answer, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

“Don’t let the kid out of your sight. Stay inside the Crest.”

“Okay…”

“I’ll try to check in again, but I might not be able to.” There are voices in the background, calling for him. “I have to go. I’ll see you soon.”

The other end goes silent. He’s gone.

Refusing to let yourself get too upset, you exhale through your lips and roll your shoulders, turning back over to Tye who’s still sitting on the ledge.

“What was that about?” He asks as you get closer, using his arms to push him back to his feet.

“Nothing, it’s fine.”

“So secretive,” he teases.

A sudden crash grabs your attention. Twisting your body in a panic, you see Grogu standing alongside a pile of miscellaneous scraps that have fallen over.

“Dank farrik. Kid!” You call out as you jog over to him. Once he sees you coming for him, he runs over to you, squealing in fear.

“Don’t worry, little guy. I got you,” you assure him, picking him up and holding him close to your chest. “You’re a little troublemaker, you know that?”

Grogu looks up at you and pouts, ears hanging low.

“I should get going. Gotta head out soon,” you hear Tye say to you.

“Okay.”

You stand a few feet away from each other, shifting awkwardly because neither of you know how to say good-bye.

“Well, um…” Tye says before clearing his throat, and then rubbing the nape of his neck with one hand.

“Good luck on your run.”

He looks down at the ground, kicking it absentmindedly with his foot. “Good luck with… everything.”

“Thanks,” you answer, voice barely audible.

You watch as Tye heads for the hangar door, waiting for him to look back, but he never does. You think about chasing after him, wrapping your arms around him one last time but your feet never leave the ground. They keep you firmly in place. With your chest tight, you expect tears to form in your eyes, but they never do. Not even seeing your best friend leave can bring you to tears. Does that make you a horrible person? Maybe.

The door hisses shut, leaving you and Grogu all alone in the hangar. You feel empty, like a part of you has walked away with Tye, and maybe there was.

He was your childhood, your adolescence… he was everything, and now he’s just gone, existing only in your memory.

“Hey,” you say, trying to distract youtself. “Let’s get some sleep, yeah?”

Grogu fusses in your arms and you head into the Crest, shutting the ramp behind you and going straight for the sleeping bunk. You crawl into the cot, placing him in the makeshift hammock and closing your eyes.

It’s gonna be a long couple days without Mando.

--

It’s been a day since you’ve last heard from Mando, which means you’ve been stuck in the Crest for a whole kriffing day, and you’re getting serious cabin fever. There aren’t any more ration packs—you and Grogu have finished the last of them a few hours ago and you’re still hungry. You both need some real food.

Remembering that diner you and Mando passed yesterday, it makes your stomach growl. It’s almost too tempting. You’ll both get some sustenance, and you’ll get time to stretch your legs. Really, it doesn’t take you much time to make up your mind. One little venture out can’t hurt, right?

Before heading out, you make sure to take your blaster and a two vibroblades from Mando’s armory. It may seem like overkill but it’s better to be safe than sorry. With Grogu tucked in the sash across your chest, you head out of the hangar.

Walking around without Mando is more dangerous, for obvious reasons. Only an idiot would pick a fight with a Mandalorian, so wherever you walked with him, you knew you’d be safe. It’s completely different walking by yourself. You know the area, you know the safer spots to walk and the areas to avoid, but you’re sure to keep your eyes open and walk with caution. Coruscant—no matter the time of day, can be dodgy. Should you have checked in with Mando that you were going out? Probably but it’s only for an hour or two and the odds of him coming back while you’re out are slim, so you take your chances. If he’s somehow able to find out that you left the hangar after he specifically told you to stay inside the Crest, you’ll just have to deal with the consequences, but until then, you’ll enjoy the little freedom you have right now.

Trekking the same route as you did with Mando, you keep your head down and navigate through various crowds of people, all the while keeping your hand just above the blaster strapped to your thigh. Even though you hate this planet, you can still appreciate its culture, and diversity.

Here, you can see every single possible being known in the galaxy. From Jawas and Wookies, to Gungans and Vodrans. Everyone eventually came to Coruscant, no matter who they were. If it wasn’t such a shithole, you’d probably enjoy living here. The best way to learn about other planets and other beings is to come to Coruscant where they had the knowledge about such things, and knowledge in abundance. It’s the metropolitan of the galaxy and if you were able to forget about all the crime and injustices that occurred here, you could probably stay just to learn.

The diner is almost full as it’s now midday. You’re lucky enough to find an empty booth near the kitchen when an older looking woman comes to greet you at your table with a datapad in hand.

“Hi there, can I get you anything?” She asks kindly.

“Can I have some broth and a plate of sliders, please?”

Looking down at the pad in her hands, she puts in your order and looks back at up at you with a wide, toothy grin, “Coming right up, sweetheart.”

As you wait for your meal, you look out the transparisteel and watch as waves of people pass you by on the street, exchanging smiles with those you make eye contact with. You wonder what kind of trouble Mando’s getting up to out there.

Is he nearby?

Is he on the other end of the planet?

More importantly, is he safe?

You wish he were with you. The idea sounds almost too domestic, sitting in a diner with you and Grogu, sharing a meal like normal people. It’s probably something you’ll never actually get to experience together but it doesn’t stop you from daydreaming about it. Never would you have guessed that you’d be longing for domesticity, for normalcy. Mando’s brought that out in you which is pretty ironic considering neither of you have experienced something close to normalcy in years but then again, it’s pretty fitting.  After living such a nomadic life, moving from planet to planet, risking your life every time you stepped out on a run, it’s all led you to this, to Mando and Grogu.

“Here you go, sugar,” the waitress says suddenly, two plates of food in her hands. She gently places them in front of you and Grogu. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

“Perfect, thank you,” you say, all smiles.

Grogu starts to eat immediately, grabbing the spoon with his firm grip and sipping the broth. Looking down at the food in your plate, you’re practically ravenous. This is the first proper meal you’ve had in months. While living off of ration packs have satisfied you up until this point, there’s nothing quite like munching down on real food, something that didn’t come out of a pack. You make a mental note to take some food to go before heading out, for Mando. You assume it’s been even longer since he’s had a decent meal and you’re sure he’d appreciate it.

You eat quickly, just because it’s so kriffing good. The attempts to really savor it are lost on you. The juices from the patty nearly drip down your arm, you’re sure you look a hot mess right now, but you pay no mind.

The best thing about eating something other than a ration pack is that this actually tastes like nutrition. Ration packs are just enough to keep up your strength, but they’re not made to satisfy you. It’s just to keep your body up and moving.

Before you know it, you’ve cleaned your plate. The kid has also finished his broth by now and is giving you sleepy eyes, blinking up at you slowly. A proper meal is enough to make anyone tired, including you, but there’s still a few errands you want to run before heading back to the Crest. Before leaving, you had made a list of all the things you’ll need to buy on your day out.

1.    New clothes

2.    Ration packs

3.    Soap

4.    Food for Mando

It’s a short list but having only a few hundred credits, you’ll have to budget everything very carefully, even try to bargain with merchants if it comes down to it. Luckily, you think of yourself as a pretty good dealer, so you’re prepared to do it if it comes down to that.

The waitress comes back to pick up the empty saucers and you ask her to for another platter of sliders to go. She obliges, again with a smile.

While you wait, you take the opportunity to pick a sheepish Grogu and place him back in the pouch across your chest and walk over to the counter to wait. Within a few minutes, the kind woman reappears from the kitchen with a paper bag in her hands.

“Here you go, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” you answer, taking the bag from her hands, and placing a few credits in her hand.

“Safe travels, my dear.”

Offering her a smile, you turn on your heel and head out the door, back into the mayhem that is Level 1313.

Based on memory, you walk in direction of where ration packs are sold, remembering all the times you used to come to this very spot just before leaving for a job. Every building, every street sign, it’s all familiar. It’s like you’re taking a stroll through the past, almost seeing your old self in strangers you pass by, realizing how much has changed since you were last here. It’s funny to think that on a planet as vast and modern as Coruscant, you seem to be the only thing that’s actuallychanged. You’re no longer just looking out for yourself. Now, you worry about Grogu’s safety, you worry about Mando’s safety. It’s a change you couldn’t have anticipated but are so thankful for.

The merchant selling the ration packs cause you a bit of trouble, claiming the broth packs and bread packs are different prices—which you know is bullshit because you’ve been buying them for years. You’ve seen him do this before, to other women who try to buy packs. Why he thinks he could increase prices for women and not men are not unusual. Men tend to think women don’t know the actual price of packs and can therefore get away with selling them at a different price. It happens so often that most of the time now, women have their male counterparts buy the packs for them, since the exchanges usual end with them not receiving any packs at all, but you know his game. He’s been trying to hustle you for years and has never been able to get the best of you.

“This is enough for five packs, that’s all,” he says when you place some credits on the table.

“No, that’s enough for two weeks’ worth of packs,” you snarl back.

The man laughs at you. “Maybe on a smaller planet, but you’re on Coruscant, girl. It’s more expensive, here.”

“That’s such bullshit and you know it. Give me two weeks’ worth of packs and I’ll be out of your way.”

He scowls at you, his eyes glaring you down. “Have you gone deaf? I said five.”

Taking a deep breath, and craning your neck to either side, you press your palms into the table, leaning forward and stopping just inches from his face. “I’ll say it just one more time. Give me the fucking packs.”

“Hey, we’re all waiting over here!” You hear someone in line shout at you.

“Hurry the fuck up!”

“I can stay here all day, and you’ll lose out on way more than just a handful of packs,” you tell him, taking a step back and crossing your arms against your chest. “Your call.”

His mouth presses into a thin line. You can tell he’s considering it by the way he continues to glare at you. It’s not worth losing out on a whole day’s worth of business just for a handful more packs.

“Fine,” he reluctantly agrees, grabbing two handfuls of ration packs and throwing them on the table.

“Thank you,” you sneer, grabbing them all and stuffing them into your backpack.

1.    New clothes

2.    Ration packs

3.    Soap

4.    Food for Mando

The rest of the afternoon goes by smoothly. You manage to get everything you needed without overspending, and you’re pretty proud of yourself. By the time you’re back on the Crest, the kid’s fallen asleep. You bring him up to the cockpit and put him down on one of the chairs and let him sleep. Since you’ll be rummaging through the galley to put everything away, this is probably the quietest place for him to sleep. After putting him down, you descend the ladder and begin unpacking everything you bought today. Placing the ration packs where they belong, the soap in the fresher, and checking out the new clothes you got. Nothing too extravagant, just another dark colored tunic and some cargo pants but it’s perfect for you.

You look down at the commlink on your wrist, checking the time. It’s early evening, making it almost a day and a half since you’ve heard from Mando, almost two days since you’ve last seen him, not that you’re counting the days.

Okay, you are but that’s not the point.

The point is you miss him terribly. Each hour that passes is an hour closer until you see him again, but it’s also another hour that you haven’t seen him, and your body aches. Is that possible? To miss someone so much that it actually hurts your body? The only logical explanation is that he’s taken a part of you with him, leaving you with a gaping hole inside your body, waiting for his return and waiting for him to refill it. It can’t be that it’s just because you miss him so fucking much, it can’t be.

It can’t be…

--

You’re half-asleep in Mando’s seat in the cockpit when you hear the hangar door slide open. Eyes opening immediately, the familiar sight of shimmering beskar instantly releases all the tautness in your body that you held onto while he was gone. The relief and joy you feel seeing him after basically two days apart reminds you of something like teenage love. The inability to be away from one another even if just for a couple of days is almost embarrassing, given that you’ve tried so hard to distance yourself from the very love you have for Mando, but quite frankly, it feels fucking amazing to have someone to care for this much. The kid is still asleep in one of the passenger chairs, so you get up ever so quietly from your seat and tiptoe your way to the ladder.

Once you hit the ladder, you shut the cockpit door and then you’re racing down the ladder, jumping off of it before you reach the bottom. You heart is racing, the smile on your face is impossible to hide—not that you’re really trying to, anyway. Standing just at the end of the ladder, you watch as Mando heads up the ramp without a word, pressing a button the vambrace that shuts the ramp behind him. Once closed, the air surrounding you changes drastically. The smile disappears from your face, and all of a sudden you feel heat prick at your cheeks.

He damn near stalks towards you, only stopping momentarily to detach the jetpack from his back and then placing it on the ground lazily. It topples over, the noise making you jump but he doesn’t bother to bend over and pick it up. Mando’s got the visor planted on you, and you’re frozen in place, a pool of arousal begins to build in your lower stomach causing your jaw to slack open. Half of you wants to cower, to hide at the sight of him. A Mandalorian pursuing anyone is enough to trigger the fight or flight response but there’s something animalistic in the way he’s coming for you, and you’d be lying if your panties weren’t drenched right now.

“Close your eyes,” he says breathlessly as he draws in closer.

You obey immediately, and suddenly hear a hissing noise, followed by something heavy hitting the ground—his helmet? Before you can ask him, his hot lips crash into yours, pushing you up against the small wall that separates the refresher from his bunk. Large, gloved hands wrap themselves around the crooks of your neck, his thumbs resting on your cheeks. The yelp you let out in surprise is caught in his mouth, his tongue darting out to trail along your bottom lip before meeting yours.

The kiss is sloppy and rushed. His hands grab at your body, your waist, the small of your back, and then settle on your hips. Your own hands fly up to grab fistfuls of his hair. His locks are damp, probably due to sweat, and you pull tighter. Mando groans lowly in the back of his throat, feeling the vibrations in yours as your cunt throbs in response. He smells of gunpower residue and musk. It fills your nostrils, almost making you lightheaded from the sensation, it’s somehow the sweetest scent you’ve ever smelled.

Both of your chests are heaving, the need to pull away to catch your breaths continuously increasing. You continue to grab at each other hastily, one of his hands wrapping around your neck and craning your jaw to expose naked skin. His lips finally leave yours, although not without you trying to keep him still, and then he starts sucking at your neck. The stubble along his jaw scratching against your skin feels so fucking good.

“Thought about you… the whole… time… couldn’t… focus…” He growls into the crook of your neck between chaste kisses, already feeling the skin starting to bruise.

Maker, is it even possible to be this turned on, right now? Mando’s desperation throws you for a loop. You knew how much you missed him, but knowing he felt the same way is so comforting. He needed you just as much as you needed him.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Need… need… to have you—"

“Stars… please…” You mewl back, hands dropping to his hips and pulling him closer to your body, his breastplate flush against your chest.

“Have to clean up first,” he whispers lowly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His voice is velvet smooth, like dripping honey. How can he be so gentle and commanding?

“Shhhh,” you tell him, before blindly grabbing at his arms in hopes to find his pauldrons and when you do find them, you start to detach them. Throwing them aimlessly on the ground and return grabbing at whatever piece of armor you can, you try to pry it off his body as he continues to lick and suck at either side of your neck.

It’s a little awkward trying to undress him while being so close to each other. You can’t even see what you’re doing so you’re sure it’s not the most elegant way of stripping him, and he seems to pick up on it because he finally pulls away, leaning his forehead against yours. You feel his hot breath on your even hotter skin and the urge to open your eyes almost takes you over, wanting so desperately to look into his eyes and see him.

“Let me do it,” he coaxes, barely above a whisper.

“But—”

He presses his lips onto yours once more, and just when you try to deepen the kiss by moving closer towards his body, he breaks it off. Immediately, you begin to hear various pieces of his armor hit the floor, heart banging against your ribcage in anticipation. Stars, you want him so fucking badly. You become impatient, grabbing the hem of your tunic and beginning to lift it up your chest.

“No,” Mando orders.  

Feeling his body close to yours again, his hands grab onto your wrists, placing them on his waist. Rubbing the fabric between your fingertips, you assume he’s wearing only a long-sleeved tunic now. It’s soft to the touch, just like his skin. As your fingers trail down his sides to the hem of his shirt, you hike it up just enough for your thumb to circle the v-lines of his stomach, feeling small bumps form on his skin.

Mando grunts through gritted teeth and then he’s dropping to his knees. Your hands are back in his hair, running your fingers through his wavy locks. He grabs the waistband of your pants, unbuttoning them and sliding them all the way down your thighs, lifting each of your legs and helping you slip out of them. Discarding them to the side, Mando’s calloused fingertips trail up your legs, kissing the very tops of your thighs as he makes his way to your underwear.

Placing a chaste kiss on the thin piece of fabric, you can’t help but tremble. Mando’s ability to be rough one minute and then gentle the next is quite literally mind-blowing. It keeps you on your toes, never knowing exactly what’s going on in his brain.

He hooks his fingers around the hem of your underwear and slowly pulls them down. You’re naked from the waist down and beginning to feel shy, being exposed and the fact that you’re unable to open your eyes and see his face or gauge his body language—it’s eating you up.

His fingers slide between your legs, tracing all the way up the apex of your thighs, forming goosebumps on your skin. Once he reaches your cunt, two fingers slip between your folds, coating them with your slick.

“So wet, pretty girl,” he admires.

All you can do is mewl when he touches you. Mando continues to massage his fingers between your folds, gathering as much of your slick as he can and then he’s pushing two digits inside you, causing you to lull your head back and accidentally hitting it against the back wall a lot harder than you expected.

“Fuck, that hurt,” you giggle, hands rubbing the back of your head.

“Are you okay? He asks, stilling his fingers inside you.

“I’m fine—ah shit,” you answer just he begins to curl them inside you, hitting that angle that only he knows how to reach.

Rubbing tight circles on your clit with his thumb, you arch your back, pushing your hips right into Mando’s face. Using his free hand, he holds the small of your back in place and darts his tongue out to lick at your bud. Your whimper echoes through the Crest’s walls, his tongue flicking your clit as he continues to finger fuck your cunt. All you can do is pull on his hair tighter, unable to move or squirm as he holds you in place.

Knees beginning to buckle, you can feel the stirring in your stomach gradually building, your orgasm bubbling up to the surface. Mando seems to catch this because he starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you at a quicker pace, now sucking on your clit and making you fucking squirm.

“Ma-Mando, I’m g-gon-nna come soon,” you tell him, voice breaking.

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he flings one of your legs over his shoulder, spreading your legs apart and lapping you up with even more fervor. You’re basically quivering now, climax getting closer and closer, and Mando knows it. He knows your body better than anyone else, better than you know yourself.

“Shit, ah-fuck, Mando…”

Right as you feel yourself about to release, Mando pulls his fingers out of you and his tongue leaves your clit, placing a chaste kiss on your inner thigh and then rising to his feet. It’s damn near impossible to hide your disappointment. It’s infuriating—being so fucking close to release, only to be denied at the very last second.

“Why—” You begin to ask but the rest of your question is silenced by his lips crushing onto yours. His tongue finds yours and you can taste yourself.

“Shhhh,” he whispers onto your lips, and then he’s pressing his body on yours once again, arms wrapped around your back as he carries you into the fresher.

The space is just big enough to fit you both, your bodies practically stuck together. Your eyes are still closed and that only adds to the intimacy. His hands grab onto the hem of your tunic and he instructs you to lift your arms. You do as your told and he lifts the shirt above your head, discarding it at your feet. You stand there, naked and fully at his mercy.

“You can open your eyes,” he says just after hearing the door slide shut. At first, you hesitate, unsure if the room really is pitch black or if he’s trusting you enough to look at his face. When you finally do open your eyes, you can’t see a damn thing. The light inside the fresher is off and you feel a sudden rush of relief and disappointment wash over you because of course he’d make sure the room was dark enough so you couldn’t see his features. Why would you think he’d be comfortable enough to show you his face?

You don’t have time to dwell on it because he’s already pushing you up against the wall, hands resting on the wall to either side of your face and sucking at your neck once again. The skin is tender, little bruises protruding along the sides of your neck, but Mando is mindful enough to be gentle. Then his mouth trails down your neck, giving chaste kisses along your clavicle, travelling down just above your breasts, cupping the flesh with his hands. With his thumb and index, he rolls your nipple, pinching the skin and then giving it a gentle nip with his teeth.

“Maker…” you whisper in awe. No one has ever been so tender with you. With all your previous sexual encounters, you’ve made it clear that it was purely about sex—nothing more. With Mando, everything is different. Neither of you are in a rush. You take time to understand each other’s bodies; what makes you writhe, what makes you scream, what makes you come. It’s about what will bring out the most pleasure in each other. You could both spend the rest of your lives learning everything about each other, from the curves in your skin, to each birth mark, to each scar.

He pulls away momentarily and using what little time you have; you grab only his hips and spin you both around, so he’s flush against the wall. Your fingers grab onto the bottom of his shirt once more.

“Can I?” You ask him tenderly.

Mando says nothing and you take that as him consenting. You hike up his shirt just a little bit, waiting for him to either stop you or allow you, and when he lifts his arms up so you can remove it, you throw it on the ground, somewhere close to where your own shirt is. You stand just inches apart from each other, neither of you are able to see the other. Wrapping your arms around his biceps, feeling the curve of his muscles as your fingers trace down his arms, across his chest.

His chest is covered in marks, scars from previous battles he’s fought in. Your fingers brush over his pecks, down the centre of his stomach, all the way to the small trail of hair that meets his shaft. When your hands settle on the waistband of his trousers, you unbuckle them and begin to push them down. He helps you a bit, stepping out of his pants.

In the fresher, you’re both fully exposed, completely vulnerable in a way you’ve never been before. The last time you were in here together, it was after the first time you had sex. That was different. You were both still dazed in the aftermath of what happened, neither of you fully aware of each other’s own nakedness, but now it’s so different. You’re not only aware of each other’s vulnerability but you’re relishing in it.

Mando turns the water on. A warm, steady stream cascades over your bodies. Steam from the warm water quickly fills the air, blending with each other’s body heat. Within seconds, you’re both soaked and for the first time, you’re the one who leans in for a kiss. For the first time, you’re the one with the courage to plant your lips on his, to catch him off guard. Mando groans in his throat, catching the sound in your own and swallowing it. With your hands placed on either cheek, you think this might be the first time anyone’s actually held his face and Maker, how fucking lucky you are to be the one to do this. He’s opened himself up to you; something he’s never done with another soul. You might not know what his face looks like, but you’re able to make out enough of his features by touching them. The sharp cut of his jawline where you feel his stubble, his moustache has tickles and pricks at your skin whenever he kisses you. The curve and bump of his nose as it clashes against yours, it’s enough for you to paint a picture of what you think he looks like, and if he looks anything like what you’ve made up in your mind, it’s a damn shame that the helmet covers up something so breathtaking.

You lean down to plant a kiss on one of his pecks, feeling the goosebumps form right where your lips meet his skin. There are a million things you want to tell him: how much you care for him and Grogu, how much he’s changed your life, how thankful you are to have him by your side. All these things you’ll probably never be able to tell him because expressing how you feel about someone has always been something you struggled with.

Although, you get the feeling Mando is in the same boat. Like he too is carrying the very same confessions as you that he too is unable to express. Maybe you’ll never know how he truly feels about you, just like he might never know exactly how you feel about him, but sometimes, words aren’t necessary. It’s more about the way you lean on one another, the way you touch one another. It’s your own way of communicating. Expressing yourselves through each other’s actions—that’s what draws you together.

He deepens the kiss, wrapping his large arms around your waist and pulling you to him as close as he can. Sloshing your mouths together, darting each other’s tongues, lips saturated in each other’s spit, it’s the most chaotic, desperate kiss you’ve ever had. When you finally pull away, chests are heaving, you’re both practically panting into each other’s mouths.

Mando takes a small step forward, hooking his hands under your arms and lifting you off the ground. You lock your legs around his waist, feeling his rock-hard cock grind against your stomach and then, your back’s on the wall again. His large hands cup your ass, digging half-moons into your skin as he nips at your shoulder.

“Fuck me … please,” you pant in his ear. His cock twitches, feeling drops of precome paint your stomach.

He wastes no time obliging as one of his hands lets go of you to align himself with your entrance. You wait impatiently for him to fill you up.

His head pokes at your entrance and immediately you feel your pussy gush. Bucking your hips forward, you push his head inside you, a pathetic mewl escaping your lips.

“Impatient,” he scolds and thrusts himself inside you all the way to the hilt. “Fu-u-uck,” he grits, biting back a moan.

Your head drops down to rest on his shoulder, arms crossed around his neck. Mando doesn’t move at first, letting your walls acclimate to his size. When he feels you relax around him, he begins to slowly grind his hips against yours, making sure you feel every fucking inch of him inside you. Trying to stifle your moans, you bite down on his shoulder and he whimpers at the sensation, driving himself even deeper, hitting your cervix.

“Fuck!” You cry out, head lulling back to hit the wall behind you.

Mando begins properly moving, slamming into you at a fast pace. The sound of skin slapping skin is only exacerbated by the water still pouring down over your bodies.

“Ah s-shit… fuck, your pussy feels so fucking good,” Mando says through gritted teeth. You clench your legs around his waist and feel him grind his hips in response. “Kriff…”

He stills inside you for a moment, and you start to wonder if he came prematurely. When you open your mouth to say something, he answers the question before you can ask it.

“I didn’t come, don’t worry,” he mumbles breathlessly, and then he’s pulling out of you.

It’s stupid but you feel empty. You already miss the feeling of his cock stretching your walls, the way he fills you up so perfectly, like you were made to take him.

Your feet touch the ground, and you only have a moment to catch your breath before his lips are on yours. Tongues darting out to catch each other’s; it’s a wet, sloppy kiss, but with his hands cupping your face, hands that almost cover your face entirely, it nearly throws you for a loop.

He pulls away just far enough so you can still feel his breath on your lips, “I’m nowhere near done with you.”

Maker, you could feel your orgasm creeping up on you just from his words. Turning you around so that you’re facing the wall, you hear him spit and then his cock is teasing your entrance again. Rubbing his length between your folds a couple times, slathering it with your slick, he lines himself up and slams into you with as much force as he can, knocking the air right out of your lungs as your cheek clashes with the durasteel wall.

His hands find their way to your hair, and he grabs as much of it as he can and pulls, forcing you to arch your back and steady yourself by holding onto the wall in front of you. The rhythm he sets is so brutal and rough, the only thing you can hear are his balls slapping against your clit. Your throat is raw, unable to make a single sound. Wrenching your eyes shut, the way his cock hits that spot inside you is making you see stars. There’s something desperate in the way he’s fucking you. The day and a half without you seemed to have really taken its toll on him, and now he’s taking it out on you. You’d let him leave without a fight if it meant you’d get fucked like this whenever he came back. Feeling your slick drip down your thighs, you know you’re so close to coming.

“Ma-ando, I’m go-o-onna c-c-come.”

“Good girl,” he praises.

When you finally come, the cries burn your throat, raw and broken. Mando fucks you all the way through it, never once relenting his rhythm, pushing as many whimpers and screams out of you as he can. Your body nearly convulses from the sheer power of your climax, exploding pleasure from every nerve-ending inside of you. Maker, you’re fucking spent. Knees barely able to keep you standing, almost going limp as you come down from your orgasm.

“Come again for me, pretty girl,” he says gently, dropping one of his hands to spread your legs and cup your sex.

“I-I can’t,” you answer with a trembling voice, making a feeble attempt to close your legs.

“Yes, you can,” he hums, forcing your legs open and using two fingers to rub your clit.

You squirm underneath him, the overstimulation really hitting you as the rhythm on your bud gets faster and faster. Your cunt is fucking worn out, you’re barely able to take any more pleasure but you refuse to let Mando down. You want to make him proud. Taking a shaky breath, you attempt to relax your trembling thighs and within seconds you’re coming again, biting down on your bottom lip so hard, you’re sure you’ll end up breaking skin.

Mando makes a guttural noise, a purely animalistic groan as he feels you come around his cock. “Fuck, yes… good girl,” he growls with praise.

Grabbing your upper arms, he pulls you upright and flush against his chest, peppering wet, messy kisses along the nape of your neck. Your arm wraps around the back of his neck, pulling at his wet hair. His cock drives into you at a ruthless pace, and then he finally stills inside of you. Pulsing between your walls, he pumps his seed deep in your pussy, moaning your name into your ear.

When his hold on you slackens, you nearly double over and fall to the ground. He pulls out of you quickly and lifts you back up to your feet. Turning you around gingerly to face him, he leans you up against the wall.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He says with his hands on your face, a hint of guilt lingering on his lips.

You’re pretty sure your eyes are closed but you can’t be sure. Everything is so dark, your mind fuzzy. “No, ‘m okay,” you answer sheepishly.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m okay, Mando.”

Feeling his forehead press yours, he plants a chaste kiss on your lips. If you had any energy left, you’d kiss him back but you’re teetering the line between consciousness and unconsciousness, too fucking exhausted to move any of your muscles.

After that, your mind goes… fuzzy.

It hits you in flashes.

You vaguely remember Mando cleaning you both up.

The water turning off.

Being guided out of the fresher.

Something being wrapped around your body—soft and warm, his cape probably.

Him slowly putting you down on the floor…

Someone warm close to you.

And then you fall asleep, the last thing you remember is feeling calloused fingertips grazing up and down your back.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian smut #reader insert #we are one when together #fics

[hisfavoritecherry]

right place, right time

summary: harry decides to take a trip to japan in an attempt to take his mind off of some things; that is, until one of the things finds its way back to him. 

warning: sadness, degredation, smut, all that good stuff

word count: 3.2k+

January 6, 2019; Tokyo, Japan. 

Harry would have never expected to find himself here. Well, he did at some points, but the ideas were never conclusive and he had never actually envisioned himself booking a flight, taking the plane, and arriving in the city that one of his most treasured books was based off of. The trip was obviously an irrational decision and after tour, there was no place he would’ve rather been (other than home, but even that didn’t feel like the right choice at the moment). He needed a new area, a new location, a new setting; to put it simply, a new place to miss you. 

You and Harry had broken things off just shortly before he went away for work, explaining that you just couldn’t handle him being away for that long and that maybe, just maybe, it was for the best. You were starting your new job as a journalist for the New York Times and it was a big step in your career for you, and you knew that there should be absolutely nothing that would prevent you from achieving it. Even him. 

He agreed, obviously, as he’s always respected you and your aspirations and he knew that he didn’t want to be the one thing that was holding you back. He’s encouraged you to do everything you can to do what you want to do as you’ve encouraged him to do the same, and even if it broke his heart, you deserved it more than anyone he’s ever known in his twenty-four years of life. You stayed friends and would call every now and then, updating him on gossip in the office or just things happening in your everyday life. You’d ask him about events happening around him as well and he would say the same thing every time. That it’s the same-old, that he’s okay, that he misses you. A smile would creep upon your lips as you knew you felt the same way, but nothing would change, no matter how much you both wanted it to. 

The only remaining problem was that you stayed on his mind the whole time after you had split, and regardless of how many times he tried to stray away from you, the thought of you always spilled back into his mind like ink on paper; you were his familiarity and he was yours.

He would see someone in the crowd who looked like you; there you were. He went on runs when he managed to get days away from the stage and put his playlist on shuffle, hearing the song you both claimed and danced together to in his kitchen that one time; there you were. He visited a random corner cafe and got your order just to see what all the fuss was about but ended up frowning and hating it deeply because it was too sweet; there you were. Every goddamn chance he got, there you were. 

Harry had expected things to change as he disembarked the outing, suggesting that perhaps if he had different people surrounding him, his conceptions would change as well. 

They didn’t. It worsened, in fact, and he ended up seeing you more wherever he went. Every face, every place, every name, it brought him back to you and he eventually accepted that you would never go away, or at least would go away in slivers at a time. So to take his mind off of the idea of you for the meanwhile, he used most of his days and nights to go out with friends and find new individuals to satisfy his cravings for the ghost of you. Not sex, or anything else, he simply just found new things to fill the void and help him ignore the pain he was so evidently feeling.

It’s currently February 1. The day he was dreading, his now second birthday without you next to him. Harry decided to spend today at Sarutahiko Coffee, a cozy cafe just a few blocks down from where he was staying. Partying and going out to karaoke with his friends was fun, hell, sometimes he thought about dropping everything and moving here just to be able to live this lifestyle, but it did get tiring at some points, and there is nothing else he’d rather be doing than perching up against a corner in the shop and reading his book right now.

The work of choice held tightly in his grip is The People Look Like Flowers at Last by Charles Bukowski, reading the poems flowing from the creme-colored pages and writing thoughts in a journal kept close to him about things that stood out the most. 

 “A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.”

What a load of donkey shit, Harry thought to himself. Love was nothing but heavy unfair baggage to him now, and he no longer believed in it. Not if he didn’t get to have you.

He chuckles to himself softly at the notion, jotting it down onto the paper and crossing it out immediately after.

It’s pathetic to Harry. How he was acting this way towards your relationship with him, how looked at the situation so negatively and sourly. He loved you so much that everytime he saw you, his breath hitched and he felt as if his heart would pump out of his chest. That every step you took closer to him, it would land him closer to a casket or his deathbed.

The bell tolls and he doesn’t bother tilting his head to see if it’s a customer coming in or leaving, as it’s been occurring all day and he just doesn’t pay mind to the action anymore. He continues to let his eyes touch every word on the page but abruptly stops when he recognizes a tone of voice. 

“Hi, how are you?”

It’s not her. Can’t be. Wouldn’t be. She’s not even in Tokyo.

Nonetheless, he looks up in the most subtle form of curiosity beaming from his aura. 

There you were. Your head cocking to the side, smiling at the cashier taking your order as you speak broken Japanese in an hasty endeavor to communicate with them. You’re dressed in a flowy white dress covered in tiny pink flowers attached to green leaves, hugging your waist in all the right places and a nude bag clutched around your shoulder. Around your back and arms is the baby pink cardigan Harry gave to you for your twenty-first birthday, the one he was so strangely excited to give to you because secretly, he knew he would be able to take the material off of you once the party was over and everyone had gone home.

He’s stunned and stopped in place now, his eyes wide open as he had no clue what to do at this point.

As if the stars had aligned in place at the perfect time, you’re standing in front of him and it feels like he can’t move.

He had only ever spoken to you through calls, not getting the chance to Facetime because he never had the time to while he was away, and you look different. A good different. Your hair is a little longer than he last saw you and tinted lighter, and it’s apparent that your skin is glowing now. Not a pregnancy glow, he hopes.

He snaps out of his trance as you grab your latte off of the counter, turning to find a seat around the cafe and freezing as you both make eye contact. Your heart stops at the sight of him. Him. The person you missed so goddamn dearly and the person you’ve been yearning for since the day you broke up. The person who’s kissed you when you were nervous, who held you when you were scared. The person you’re still in love with to this day, no matter the lengthy amount of time you’ve spent apart. 

A few seconds pass and you start to make your way to the area he’s sitting alone at. You’re praying in this time that he isn’t here with someone else, but in return, he smiles at you. The kind of smile you love, when his dimple pops out and his pearly brights show through. He’s the sun.

“Harry,” you breathe softly, lips curling into a grin. The sound of his name erupting from your mouth makes your lungs skip a beat as you haven’t said it at all in what? A year now?

“Y/N,” he says in return.

“Mind if I sit?” 

He purses his lips and hastily moves all of his belongings over, making space for your arrival. 

“Be my guest.” 

Your perfume dials into his brain as you sit and he smiles at the easily recognized scent. The silence between the two of you now is deafening and to be frank, annoying. You wish you could hold him in your arms again and tell him you missed him and you love him and that this whole time, all you’ve ever wanted to do was call him and find your way back to him, but you don’t. You can’t. Not here, at least. 

“So-”

“You-” You both start speaking at once.

“Whoops, my bad. You go first,” you say softly, pressing your lips into a line which makes him laugh gently.

“I was going to say, y’ look good, Y/N.” 

Your heart stops once more and everything comes rushing back to you.

The first time he kissed you, the first time he held your hand, the first time you made love, the first time you fucked, the last time you kissed, the last time he held your hand, the last time you made love, the last time you fucked.

“Thank you,” you look down out of pure nervousness as you don’t want to mess it up. “You do too, I’ve missed you.”

A moment of stillness is shared between you two and you instantly regret saying it, God knows if he feels the same way and if he could be missing someone else who isn’t you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, forget I said that, please.”

“No, s’ all good, was just registering into my brain that you actually said that,” he pauses, running his hands through the chestnut locks held atop his head. You never noticed but his hair has grown a large amount, almost touching his neck now. He’s wearing a light brown cardigan around a white tee shirt, sunglasses hanging off of the edge of the material. His eyes are duller and he looks more tired, worrying you, but you don’t want to fuss just yet about why that is.

“I missed you too.”

You both smile and nod together, almost as if in sync and you observe that although it’s awkward now, it’s a comforting kind of awkward and you know that he’s finally here in front of you, with a blatantly inviting heart and the softest smile to grant you access to it. 

“So what are you doing in Tokyo?” he asks, taking a sip from the mug filling to the brim with black coffee that seems like he didn’t bother touching since the moment he arrived. 

“I could ask you the same thing. But I’m here just to visit, work’s been on my ass and I just needed a way to escape. I worked my ass off everyday since my first day on the job and I never slacked. Not once. But it gets tiring, y’ know, so I was like, Japan seems like a cool option. So I used up my savings and booked a flight. Been here for a few days. Weird that we ended up at the same time, though, I guess,” you giggle delicately and it sounds like music to Harry’s ears, a melody he hasn’t heard in what feels like forever. He stays silent in response as he puzzles together in his mind how this could have happened. How you managed to come to the same cafe as him, at the same time, in the same city. Right place, right time, he suggests to himself.

“And you?”

You like that about Harry. You like that you’re able to spill your heart out to him and he would accept all of it with open arms, listening as closely as he possibly can and registering every spoken word into his brain. 

“After tour ended, I was weighing all the possible options on where I could spend the time writing the next record and getting my mind off of some other shit, an’ I guess we had the same idea of randomly choosing Japan.”

“Yeah? Where are you staying?” you ask quietly, tiny hands curling around the cup of your liquid of choice. You realize that maybe it was a bit of a reach to ask, but you’re curious and you’re almost positive he’s the same. 

“I can show you if y’ want,” Harry taps his fingers against the wooden table dividing the two of you and you nod in response, and him mentally breathing out in relief that it didn’t backfire onto him. You had no plans for the rest of today, anyways, other than exploring the city a bit more, and it wouldn’t hurt to check the place out for a few minutes or so. You both grab your belongings, heading towards the exit and smiling at the workers who do the same in return. 

You walk a mere five minutes in silence before arriving at a tall brick-built building. You assume it’s an apartment complex and he unlocks the main entrance, heading towards a set of doors that end up being an elevator. You both pile into the lifting device and he clicks the number 10.

“S’ nice,” you say softly, tugging at the hem of your dress-skirt. He nods in response and folds his arms together. 

Harry’s heart is racing faster than he can think and it feels like time is going slower than usual. It’s never normal for him to be anxious or nervous like this around you, you’re his sense of calmness and the only person he feels like he can totally know himself with.

But he can’t wait any longer. He doesn’t want to lose you again, not like this. 

Harry steps in front of you, eyes peering down and his hands tuck around the back of your neck. Your hands absentmindedly wrap around his waist, and you know what’s going to happen next but honestly, you’re so grateful for it.

“If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it?”

He smiles at you once more before cocking his head to the side and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“You’ll have to see for yourself.” You don’t let another moment pass before eagerly smashing your lips against his, him pressing you up against the elevator wall and wrapping your leg around his middle. He tastes like mint and forgotten love, the sweet tang of the person you’ve missed so fucking much. You can feel him hardening against your center as your lips move together in sync, releasing from each other’s embrace as Harry moves down to your neck and leaves soft pecks around the area. He moves up to the spot right behind your ear that he knows makes you go crazy, which makes your cunt ache for him and only him.

The elevator dings above your frames and he pulls off of you immediately, the both of you moving to the side of one another as an elderly lady enters. You look up to see Harry smirking to himself with his lips pressed into a line and you nudge his side while rolling your eyes, him chuckling in return.

It doesn’t take long before you arrive at his floor, his fingers intertwining with yours as he leads you to the exit and towards his door. He fumbles with his keys for a moment as you lean up to suck the nape of his neck fervidly, leaving marks as you go and him groaning tacitly.

“And don’t think I forgot that it’s your birthday,” you whisper against his ear, giggling and kissing against it as he’s finally able to get it unlocked. He pushes the door open to reveal a large penthouse that you don’t get a second to look around before you’ve dropped down to your knees, trembling as you unbuckle the belt around his waist. You don’t want to admit it but this is the first time you’ve both ever gotten laid since you ended things and you never would have guessed that this would’ve been with each other. Harry throws the stack of books previously held in his clutch onto the couch nearby and helps you tug down his jeans, his black briefs now in vision and erection planted directly in front of you. You stroke him through the material and leave kisses across it, making your way to the tip of it and pulling the briefs down with your teeth. He hisses at the teasing action with glistening eyes and you can’t help but smirk to yourself at the sight of it, grabbing him between your fingers and using them to move down his shaft. You’re looking up at him now and his head is thrown back, moaning at the feeling of pent-up deprivation finally being taken care of. 

You use your tongue to swirl around the tip, catching any of the precum dribbling from his cock in the swells of your mouth and he grabs a handful of your hair to guide you through it.

“Fuck, jus’ like that,” he pauses, using his strength to bob your head up and down but making sure it’s only the amount of him you’re able to take. “I’ve missed you, baby,”

Tears begin to gather at the crease of your eyelids before he releases his grip each time, and it doesn’t take long before he’s picking you up and carrying you to his bedroom. You whine in irritation and make rebuttals for him to put you down and he pats your ass, placing you down softly onto the mattress and continuing to work his way around your heart-shaped lips. He pulls up the material around your body and throws it to the other side of the room to reveal that surprisingly, you aren’t wearing any bra or panties, and his breath hitches before taking a moment to himself and placing his hands onto you once more. It’s obvious that he’s trying to be as delicate as he possibly can with you but to be honest, that is the last thing you want right now.  

“Harry,” you breathe out, cursing to yourself as he kisses tenderly down your torso. He tilts his head in reaction; you’ve always been very vocal with each other about affection and sex and how you wanna go about it so it wouldn’t hurt to be that way now too.

“Please,” you breathe out. “Be rough with me, I need you so much,” you beg, him humming as a silent notion of ‘are you sure?’ and you nod in return. Harry’s finger dips through your soaked folds, digit swirling over your sensitive nub and using his other hand to hold your hips down as they buck up against him. Propping yourself up onto your elbows to watch him work, you whine his name over and over as his mouth is now attached to your heat, him moaning from enjoyment in response as well. He pulls away and you can’t help but want to scream at him for it, eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. As much as he wants you, he wants to know that you’re just as needy and eager for his entrance. 

“What do y’ want, princess? Hm?” He taunts, pushing his thumb against your clit harder. 

“I want-” He presses harder, which makes you cry out louder.

“I want you to fuck me, Harry,” you mumble quietly and he halts his movements completely, making you squirm and wrap your fingers around his arm in a poor attempt to reattach his touch back to you. 

“What was that?” You know he heard you the first time but needs to hear you beg for him once more.

“I want you to fuck me Harry, make me c-cum, please,” you tremble and it doesn’t take another second for him to pull his weight up before wrapping his hand around his cock firmly and hooking his other onto your thigh. He doesn’t give you time to re-adjust before sinking himself into you and letting out a groan, the moan coming from your lips sounding like a symphony to his perception.

“Shit, you’re so wet, all f’ me,” he wants to let you adapt to his length again but instead, decides to start moving himself in and out of you hastily, head dropping to your neck and you use his nape to leave your traces up against. He never expected to end up here, fucking you like this in his bedroom, but that was the last thing on his mind, the first being to make you cum. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Harry,” you plea. “You feel so fucking good,” you cry out for him, sobs being jagged and covered with lust as you move your fingers into his sweat-immersed hair. His face is tinted a bright shade of pink and moisture is leaking down the sides of his face.

“Harder, please, daddy,” the accentuating whines coming from your lips almost mask the nickname you’ve bestowed upon him for the first time since you last made love, but it makes his stomach riddle with butterflies and he follows your request. Harry pushes himself into you harder each time, his fingers trailing down to your center and pinching the skin surrounding your nub. The only noises throughout his whole apartment now is a combination of your moans and the bed softly creaking against the hardwood floor. He knows that you’re close and he is as well, but he wants to make it last longer for your first time together again.

“Y/N,” he groans out, brown curls falling in front of his face. “‘m not going to last long, baby, gonna cum for me? Gonna let me fill you up like the dirty slut you are? Is that what you want?” 

You can only nod in response due to the dryness in your throat from crying out seemingly louder than you ever have and you feel yourself release and clench onto his dick, pinching your eyes shut and seeing fireworks glow against them. A moment passes and Harry loosens the grip from your thigh, stuttering and becoming more sloppy with his thrusts, but soon emptying himself into you and pounding into you one last time, sending chills throughout both of your bodies.

He waits for a while in order to recollect himself and give you a chance to as well, collapsing at your side as you feel his contents spill out of you. You know he’s about to grab something to clean you up with when he begins to move to the edge of the bed but you tug him back, nodding and pouting.

“Don’t leave, not yet,” you say, still out of breath and Harry chuckles quietly before pulling himself back and wrapping his arms around your waist, pecking up against the sweet spot near your neck once more and letting out a sigh. 

“I’m not leaving you ever again, not after what just happened.” You lean over and swat his arm, giggling and pressing your lips against his again. You’re both finally in the place that you’ve been dying to be in for the past year and you realize that maybe the time you spent apart was all worth it if it meant you got to be back here with him, in his arms, in his presence, in his bedroom, in Japan.  

#harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles #japan harry

[dehydratedpercy]

Prompt: " Please.....dont make me hurt you"

For dark Frank maybe👀 but you Can also choose someone else

A Way To Hurt (2.5k)

Read on Ao3 | Based on this post

Summary: Hazel still has Frank's firewood, though they're enemies now. Even though she knows she could kill him, she can't bring herself to betray his trust-- that is, until he shows up one night intent on getting his lifeline back, no matter the cost.

TW: Home invasion, dark themes

Hazel had just finished getting ready for bed when she heard the noise. It came from the other room, so she picked up her spatha, hoping beyond hope that it was just the old house settling.

Sometimes, it was just the old house settling. She kept her spatha by her side at all times though, because she knew one day, it wouldn’t just be the house. And she refused to be unarmed when that day finally came.

Now, she had her sword, which gave her comfort even if she wasn’t wearing armor. Her sweats were oversized, her mouth still tasting like toothpaste. Her eyes had been drooping, almost falling asleep standing up.

She wasn’t falling asleep now.

She stepped into the bedroom, pausing in the doorway. For a moment, there was nothing. Then Frank materialized, landing with barely a step. It was almost as if he'd taken off Annabeth's invisibility cap, but Hazel knew the truth; that he'd simply been in the form of a bug, and had shifted back to his human form. It was a trick he’d started learning when he was still at camp, but clearly he’d perfected it since then.

Hazel let her spatha hang by her side, not raising it quite yet. Frank wouldn’t have shown himself if he was just going to attack her, which meant he must’ve wanted to talk.

This’ll be good, she thought, crossing her arms.

“Hazel,” Frank said, sounding on edge. He looked worse than the last time she saw him, like he hadn’t been sleeping. Despite that, his posture was straight, like he hadn’t been able to forget his Roman training, his hands in his pockets casually, like he hadn’t just broken in. “You look-- good. You look good.”

It came out as a stumbled complement, but it hit Hazel like an insult. They’d broken up directly before he’d left camp, but before that they’d been dating for nearly three years. He’d never gotten less awkward. At one point, it had been endearing-- but too much had changed for it to feel like anything but an insult now. Especially since she knew why he was here.

“That attack on Camp Half-Blood. That was you, wasn’t it?”

Frank shrugged non-committally. “I wasn’t there, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You just helped organize it.”

“Sounds like something I’d do, doesn’t it?” He said, neither agreeing or disagreeing. “Hazel--”

“And the attack on the questers? The bear--”

He huffed. “Might have just been a freak accident. Wild animals attack sometimes, Hazel.”

“Stop saying my name,” she snapped. “It’s not yours to say anymore. And that warship that was destroyed? The defenses that were destroyed? The supplies that were booby-trapped?”

Frank took a step forward, eyes darkening. He didn’t like being pushed, but Hazel didn’t care. He deserved to feel the impact of the crimes he committed-- crimes against demigods, crimes against his family. Hazel wasn’t going to let him get away so easily.

They’d initially broken up when Frank started getting too radical, claiming that they were doing something wrong by taking in and training new demigods. He said they’d be better off left alone, where they wouldn’t be able to get too powerful, and thus wouldn’t attract as many monsters. Some would die, sure-- but he thought back to his mortal days with a fondness he didn’t hold for either camp. He thought it would’ve been better not to know.

He was wrong. But that didn’t stop him. He left camp, found beings willing to support his cause, and started a gradual campaign to dissolve both camps-- make them so unsafe demigods started fleeing, trying their luck in the mortal world.

Hazel and her friends had volunteered to be the ones to take him in-- or, if that didn’t work, bring him down. This house had been their mission headquarters. It was supposed to be secure. Then again, nothing seemed to be secure these days: there was nowhere Frank had been unable to go. He could turn into a bug and fly under doors, turn into a bear and attack innocents, turn into an elephant and take down buildings. His shifting was instantaneous, making him impossible to fight: he changed form before you could land a swing.

“You act like I’m a bad guy,” Frank said, voice low and dangerous. “Like I’m not doing all of this to help people. The generation after us will thank me when they are able to live among mortals again--”

“The ones who don’t die, maybe!” Hazel said, voice raising. “And fuck the next generation, what about the ones who are alive now? The demigods who have already started exploring their powers, who can’t stay in the mortal world without detection. What about them?”

“They’re a lost cause,” Frank said, sounding deeply saddened by this. “And I am too. I know my scent is as powerful as yours or Jason’s; this fucking curse has seen to that.”

“A blessing,” Hazel corrected, feeling the familiarity of their old argument like a frequently dislocated joint. “Shapeshifting is a blessing, a gift more demigods would die for--”

“I’m barely even human anymore!” Frank yelled. Hazel stepped back in horror as he shifted rapidly, going from human to bear to hawk to wolf to human again. It happened so quickly it just looked like a flicker, and then he was human again, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath. “Hazel, I wouldn’t wish this curse on anyone. And even if I was just a normal demigod, going to camp was the biggest mistake of my life. If I had never done that, my scent would have never gotten this strong. My family mansion would still be around, my grandmother would still be--” he swallowed with difficulty. “My grandmother would still be alive. Camp Jupiter took everything from me. And I can’t get it back, but maybe-- I could make it better for future demigods. That’s all I can hope for.”

“At the expense of demigods now,” Hazel whispered. “Frank, without the camps… so many people will die. Demigods need a safe place to train.”

Frank’s expression closed off, and Hazel knew he was done arguing with her. Early on, he’d hoped to get her to see his side, but he’d quickly seen that that would never happen.

“Fine,” he said, voice like a knife. “Then just give me what I came here for, and I’ll be on my way.”

Hazel felt her face heat up. Her hand twitched, wanting to move to touch the side of her thigh where his piece of firewood sat. All this time, and he’d never gotten it back. At first, Hazel thought it was a hopeful sign, since it meant he must still trust it in her care, but as his actions grew more and more violent, she knew it was only a matter of time.

She had used to keep it in a jacket pocket, but she wasn’t so naive anymore. Currently, the wood was duct-taped to the side of her thigh, so it never left her side. No one knew; her friends didn’t even know she had it. She’d considered telling them, but she just couldn’t betray Frank’s trust like that. She’d considered burning it-- especially after hearing about the deaths-- but in the end, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. How could she betray someone who had trusted her with everything? How could she hurt anyone like that?

Hazel had known, in her heart, that one day he’d show up, looking for the piece of timber. She had hoped it wouldn’t happen, but she’d known. She wasn’t as naive as people liked to think.

“I’m not giving you anything,” she said, raising her spatha. “For all you know, I don’t even have it anymore. I may have put it in a safe across the country, and you’ll never find it.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “Come on Hazel. Don’t make me ask again.”

“I told you not to say my name.”

“Hazel,” Frank snapped. “You’re acting like a child. I’m trying to make the world a better place, and it’s bad enough you of all people are trying to stop me. But that timber doesn’t belong to you. Give it here.”

“Do you remember who my father is?” Hazel challenged, baring her teeth. “I could kill you with the snap of my fingers. I’d be more afraid, if I were you.”

"You have my firewood, you could've killed me long ago," Frank argued. "You haven't. You're not going to try now."

Hazel felt her eyes blaze with determination. "You don't know that."

He started moving forward, and Hazel was reminded briefly how much bigger than her he was. "I do. Because I know you, and I know you'd never do anything to hurt a friend."

"Unlike some people," Hazel snarled.

Frank ignored the jab, still moving forward. “Hazel, I’m begging you, just hand it over. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.”

He got too close, and Hazel slashed with her sword. In an instant, he was gone, and then he was behind her, grabbing her around the waist. She screamed as he grabbed her hoodie pocket, feeling for the timber. She tried to elbow him in the face but he was gone again, and then she tripped over something and was on the ground. She swiped at him again but he was relentless, disappearing and reappearing again, attacking her like a wolf tearing at scaps. She couldn’t strike her, no matter how hard she tried.

Suddenly, she felt his hand on her thigh, and in a panic she kicked him away. He responded slower this time, barely turning into a bird in time to stop himself from slamming full force into the opposite wall. He dropped back to human form, panting, but his gaze was vicious. He’d found what he was looking for.

“You used to be a gentleman,” Hazel said bitterly as she stumbled to her feet, backing up. He had never so blatantly ignored her consent like that before, touching her like she was a means to an end instead of a person.

“I’m not going to be a gentleman when you have my lifeline tucked against your skin,” Frank said cruelly.

Hazel saw his muscles tense and just had enough time to say “No--” when he lunged, turning into a hawk. She slashed with her sword, but then he was a coyote, hitting her with so much force she fell again. There was a ripping noise, but she didn’t have time to react because then he was on top of her in human form again. They wrestled for a moment, but Hazel had never excelled in hand-to-hand combat, and he was twice her size with the upper hand. He threw her spatha to the side, then pinned her beneath him.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, then there was a hand over her mouth. She lurched, screaming into it as he ripped the duct-taped timber off her leg, taking some of her hair with it.

As a wolf, he must’ve bitten off a hunk of her sweatpants, and now he had the timber back in his hand.

He looked at it in awe, as if he wasn’t didn’t even see her as a threat anymore.

She gritted her teeth and summoned her sword. It flew so fast it knocked Frank in the back of the head, and then she was able to throw him off her body, slashing at the same time. He turned into a hawk but wasn’t quick enough, and she sliced off part of his wing. He fell, rolling away in human form, and when he came to a stop Hazel saw the huge gash down his arm. He reached up to touch it, and it was then that Hazel realized he didn’t have the wood.

She spotted it, laying in the center of the floor, at the same time as he did. They both lunged, Frank’s image flickering through half a dozen transformations before he grabbed onto the timber with his thick human hand. Hazel almost took off his fingers as she swung. Instead of knocking the wood out of his hand, however, she cut it clear in half.

That was good enough for her. She dove, grabbing the wood and rolling.

She landed in a kneeling position, half of the piece of timber in her hands. Frank held the other, teeth gritted. He looked like he planned to launch another attack, but before he could Hazel did what she should’ve done a long time ago: warping the imperial gold of her sword, turning it to its liquid state in mid-air, and using it to coat her piece of wood. She raised it, triumphant, the metal-covered wood levitating an inch above her hand. It glowed inhumanly-- after all, she had her own curses to deal with. Frank wouldn’t dare touch it now.

The house shook. It took Hazel a moment to realize that was her magic, causing the very foundations of the house to tremor. There were shouts from the lower floor, the sound of pounding footsteps.

“Try me again,” she threatened, still levitating her trophy grotesquely. “I will end you.”

Frank looked pissed, but he also must’ve seen how serious she was. He swallowed, stuffing his piece of firewood back in his pocket. “Until we meet again-- Levesque.”

Then he turned into a bat, still able to fly despite his injured wing. The door opened and he swooped out, escaping into the rest of the house and eventually, into the night.

Jason and Percy lurched in, both looking panicked. They didn’t seem to have noticed the bat. When Jason saw Hazel, his eyes widened, and he backed up into Percy, nearly knocking him over. “Hazel-- your eyes--”

Hazel realized her eyes must’ve started glowing gold, like they sometimes did when she was filled with rage. With effort, she willed them to stop, calling on the house to still.

“What happened?” Percy asked as Hazel walked to the window. She watched as a bat darted out the front door, which was still open-- Jason and Percy must’ve just gotten back. She continued watching the bat until it was too far away to see, then sighed. She willed the metal to uncover the piece of tinder, revealing it as a piece of wood again, and holding it up for them to see.

She’d never told anyone Frank’s secret, thinking her loyalty to her promise came before anything else. She didn’t think that anymore, though, and she was done doing Frank favors.

(The wood still had Frank’s blood on it, and it made Hazel’s stomach twist uncomfortably.)

“I have something to tell you guys,” Hazel said, doing an impressive job of keeping her voice from shaking. “A secret I’ve been holding for Frank for-- too long. It may not be enough to destroy him, but at the very least, I know a way where we can hurt him very, very badly.”

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[slvtbible]

G O L D 

chapter two

summary: [y/n is a young stripper who is adored by many men. harry styles is a man who loves to carry danger with him]

word count: 4787

pairing: stripper!y/n and gangleader!harry

warnings: violence, vulgar language, sexual acts, alcohol and drugs

Read it on my wattpad here too!

previous chapter here and here’s the series masterlist !

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y/n swears she can hear her heartbeat beating loud soon as she sets herself down on his lap. Still, she keeps her flirty persona for a show so he won’t suspect anything, though on the inside she can feel herself about to faint. She doesn’t quite understand how difficult it is for her to avoid his sharp gaze either, it’s clear that his eyes haven't left her body the minute she stepped into the room earlier. Because when she looks up, his beautiful green eyes are already staring back at hers.

“So… Mr. Styles” y/n starts, giving him a naughty smile as her hands find their way to his shoulders. She feels how tense his shoulders are under her grip. “What brings you to this awful depth of New York city?”

He clears his throat, licking his lips before biting down his lower ones and keeps his hands on her hips. Finding no desire to remove them. “Stress reliever. Haven’t got a time off in the last few weeks. I thought to myself, ‘strip clubs should be fun’, to be accompanied by a gorgeous woman like yourself seems like a good idea.”

It’s either he’s being sarcastic or really is just telling the truth. But she refuses to believe the latter. He sure is charming and cheeky from what she can tell but y/n sure as hell isn’t buying it. “Mhmm, you sure are a sweet talker Mr. Styles.” She tells him as she begins to slowly grind against his bulge causing him to exhale a deep groan. “You sure you don’t talk to other girls that way?”

He mutters a “Christ” when he feels himself growing hard under her sultry move, yet she isn’t stopping. And she only had just started. “Believe me doll, I don't. Being in a mob, relationships are hard to keep, you know?”

“I’m not talking about relationships, Mr. Styles” she utters gently, starting to circle her hips in a slow pace but hard enough to keep him satisfied. She smirks as soon as she hears him mumble a curse. “Anyway. . . What did you and Joe talk about earlier before I came here? You must know something, Mr Styles i-”

“Harry” He cuts her off, his thumb softly stroking against her hip bone,

“What was that?”

“Call me Harry, doll. Just call me Harry” He repeats, staring intensely into her eyes,

She hums in response and nods. “Okay, Harry. . . You must know something that Joe, he never gives up on me that easy. Rarely letting me perform in private for anyone.” leaning herself back slowly and rests her palms upon the table, now moving her hips back and forth.

Harry shamelessly lets his eyes wander down from her perky breasts to her thick thighs, moving his hands to rest them there. “I threatened him” he says casually with a shrug, feeling her tense but brushes it off. “Said i’ll kill him if he doesn’t give me the 50 grand he owed me and a girl for tonight.”

He sounds so calm yet so serious it scares her a bit. With the way his eyes staring at her aren’t really helping too. And how his tongue pokes out a bit to wet his bottom lip, like he knows it makes her even more nervous. He really knows how to make a girl weak on her knees.

“Looks like someone is in trouble” she giggles cutely, imagining the terrified look on Joe’s face when Harry threatened him. “Not surprised. . . He does that alot to people. Including me.”

He cocks an eyebrow, curiosity building up. “really? Like what”

“Like. . . he knows I'm short on money because I keep stalling to pay the rent just so he can ‘borrow’ half of the earnings I got every week. He really is a dick and never pays me back” she spills casually, then her eyes widen when she realizes what she had just said about her boss. “Shit! Don’t tell him i said that.”

With a chuckle, he shakes his head. “Relax. . . He’s not the type of man I would tell my problems to.” He speaks lowly and continues to admire her body, rubbing gently on her soft thighs. “So tell me, how did you end up here?”

It takes her a while before answering. “Well. . . Short story. I ran away from home to start a new life. Began doing it when I was 18. Technically wasn’t illegal but it’s what kept a roof over my head”

“Mhmm. . . must be tough. But i’m glad you did otherwise we wouldn’t have met.” He flirts, shooting her a wink to fuck with her a little.

She rolls her eyes playfully and grins after. Carefully lifting her hands off the table and leaning forward to set them back on his shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. Her eyes suddenly fall on his two swallows tattoos, beautifully inked on his broad chest. She struggles to find the urge not to trace her fingers across them.

“Those tattoos are gorgeous” she comments blatantly, eyes stuck on the masterpiece. “Do you mind if i. . . touch them a little?” she asks softly, looking up to his eyes innocently yet teasingly,

Harry smirks, exhaling a deep breath. “Go ahead baby. . .” he speaks in a hum, voice so deep and carries a thick british accent that causes her to squirm a little.

She ignores the butterflies in her stomach when he calls her ‘baby’. Without being told twice, her soft hands make its way to his chest. Thumbing the large ink and feeling how soft his skin is. Her eyes are paying attention to the every single detail of the ink, wondering how the tattoos could fit so perfectly on his chest.

No doubt, he is the sexiest man she has ever come across to. She can feel his large hands going towards her backside, palming her plump cheeks and giving them a light squeeze. Usually she would tell anyone off for touching her like that especially if she told them no. Yet this time she doesn’t say anything. Not because she’s afraid of him but she strangely feels turned on.

“Fuck” he breathes out, feeling her ass one more time. Hearing her giggle as she gradually picks up her pace grinding on him, catching him off guard. “You really are a God’s masterpiece, huh? Bet you wouldn’t mind having that ass spanked would you?” He whispers against her ear, biting his lower lip hard.

Though she’d admit she wouldn’t, she can’t give up that easily. She slowly shakes her head and removes herself from him causing him to whine. Spinning around as she sways her ass side to side, sneaking a glance to make sure he’s watching. And he is.

Her hand wraps tightly around the golden pole. “You have to take me to dinner if you wanna go down to that path, Mr. Styles”

He watches with lust and adoration in his eyes as she now, hooks her arm around the pole, lifting herself off easily to give her body a gentle spin. Her eyes screw shut and her head is thrown back. Then she’s coming back down slowly, legs wide as she lands with a perfect split. Long brown hair covering the side of her beautiful features, her tongue licking her upper lip with her eyes looking at his.

He follows the curve of her round ass, eager to get his hands on them again but he knows he has to wait. His eyes squint a bit to spot a small detailed heart tattoo on her ass cheek.  

Harry learns that y/n is a little teaser. Enjoy making a man hard but refuses to be under the spell of a man’s touch. He likes that actually. He likes that a lot. It may be painful to have his cock hard at the moment while she’s not doing anything about it, but she’s worth it.

With that gorgeous face and beautiful body having to perform for him, what more could he ask for now?

“You are so. Fucking. Sexy” his voice is darker now, a seductive grin is slowly forming as he thirsts over her. “Must have made a lot of men mad out there.”

“So i’ve been told” she declares with confidence, putting on an innocent smile as she gently crawls towards him, seeing how hard he is from this view. Her eyes never leaving his.

She stops in between his legs and settles on her knees. Being the little minx she is, she brings her hands on his thighs. Giving them a gentle rub like he did earlier with her. “I’ve never come face to face with a man like you, Harry. . . Not sure if there’s another one like you either.”

“Because there’s only one Harry Styles, doll.” He delicately caresses her soft cheek, moving a few strands of her hair from blocking her pretty face. “And I am sure I'm the only man that gets to see you on her knees, being a naughty little thing with her hands on him knowing how hard she makes him.” He whispers gently, seemingly can’t take his eyes off her as she plays with him a bit more.

“You’re a handsome man, Mr. Styles. Any girl would be lucky to be on her knees. . .touching you in a way she wanted to” She responds cheekily, winking at him.

He chuckles deeply, shaking his head. “Now look who’s the sweet talker eh?” He jokingly asks, reaching down to grab her hand. “Up you go, pet”

She looks at him questionably but stands up anyway when his hand wraps around hers. “Um. . . we still have thirty minutes left. Joe told me to at least give you an hour.” She notifies, looking down at him as she fiddles with her fingers,

He nods. “I know. But doll, you’ve given me much already. Plus, if I stayed for over thirty more, I would probably bust in my pants because look what you've done” he shamelessly points to his tent. Chuckling as she blushes and biting down her lip. “That doesn’t mean this is one and done. I’d like to see you again next time. I did tell Joe I wanted you. Just wanna make sure i picked the right one and indeed i was” He stands, pulling out his wallet from the back and pocket and grab five hundred dollar bills from it,

“Here you go, sweetheart.”

She looks down on the bundle of cash he’s giving her in shock and lets out a nervous laugh. “Oh. . . no i can’t take that. It’s too much. Men usually paid me twenty or fifteen at least.”

He frowns. He doesn’t believe any word she just said. A gorgeous woman like her getting paid less? Fucking assholes.

“Well, I am not them, am i?” He quirks an eyebrow watching her adorable expression. “I’m Harry Styles, baby. Money isn’t a problem to me. Come on, you deserved it.”

She stares down at his hand and hesitantly takes the money from it. Giving him a soft, thankful smile. “Thank you, Mr-- uh i mean, Harry. I appreciate it.”

He grins, nodding his head as he slips his wallet back into his pocket. “Anytime, doll. Don’t go far from me, eh? Would love to take you out on a stroll sometimes.” He leans down a bit to peck her cheek. “Take care of yourself, love. I’ll be sure to call you once I get the time” with one last smirk and a wink, he swiftly walks out of the door and closes it. Leaving her dumbfounded in the room.

She tries to process everything that has just happened. Not once did any of her clients ever pull a move like he did. It’s not like she would be interested anyway since most of them are old and married. Something about him doesn’t terrify her anymore. Okay, maybe a little. Especially when she caught a glimpse of his gun fifteen minutes prior but she shakes it off quickly.

Maybe she did enjoy being alone with him. With his hands feeling her ass and his heavy voice speaks to her making her squirms in excitement. She tried really hard to not let him know he’s doing things to her but she thinks he’s smarter than that. He must’ve guessed that.

With a smirk, she hides the cash in her bra, checking if it’s prominent or not because she doesn’t want anyone--especially Joe-- to find out. She stands in front of a mirror, fixing her hair a bit and letting herself out of the room.

If he keeps handing her cash like this then she cannot fucking wait to see him again.

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Harry steps inside the dimly lit room, removing his Rolex before laying it gently on a table. His feet allow him to carry himself towards a black safe, which it’s firmly settled on the wall as he unlocks it. Digging his hand through the bundle of cash to grab his gun before loading it with three bullets.

The thing about Harry is that he doesn’t like wasting precious things too easily. What he had learned for the past twelve years of being a gunrunner, he notices a few minor details about guns. How the bullets normally get wasted for less than an hour while they’re being used. Harry doesn't actually condone guns. He hates the idea of having to carry such a heavy weight item wherever he goes.

But somehow, guns are a ‘must have’ in every single mafia group. So he has to learn to live by it every day.

“You said there won’t be a bloodshed tonight, boss. What changed?”

Harry stops moving and turns around, meeting Reece’s gaze immediately and his smirk which plants on his features. Hands behind his back as he takes a couple steps forward.

Harry emits a deep chuckle while shaking his head lightly, putting the gun down. “If you’re talking about the Glock 43 i had in my hands, i wasn’t planning anything stupid. I like being prepared.” He closes the safe and locks it with four digits passcode.

Reece’s eyebrows raise and his lips form into a pout as he nods, retracting his hand from behind showing Harry a sealed brown document making Harry’s brows twist in confusion.

“What’s that?” Harry strides his way towards Reece’s figure, close enough to examine the documents he is holding,

Reece says nothing but pulls a few papers and pictures instead inside of it, throwing them on the table sloppily causing them to splatter a bit. Harry peers at the papers carefully, fingers reaching out to move the papers a little bit so he can observe them better.

“That’s Alejandro Blanco. He owns the infamous Blanco Cartel, passed on by his late father who died in 1999.” Reece begins to explain as he points at the picture Harry is touching, the twinge of his spanish accent comes into play as he speaks the name. “If you didn’t know, Blanco Cartel is an International Drug Trafficking organization and a criminal syndicate. Money laundering is a part of their characteristic work. Blanco Cartel is named to be the second most powerful International drug trafficking in the world right after the Sinaloa cartel.”

Reece then gently grabs another photograph of two young men having a conversation, dressed in pastel colored shirts with their glasses on. “They operate in Calabria, Italy. Seems like the United States Intelligence Community are chasing their asses too.”

Humming as a response, Harry quickly pulls the photograph off the table. Observing it closely towards his gaze as his eyes flicks back and forth to the other photos. “I may be out of my fucking mind but i could swear i’ve seen him before.”

“If you’re referring to the guy we saw at the black market two months ago, yes that was him. He wasn’t very subtle back then.” Reece pours two glasses of whiskey, knowing it’s going to be a long night. “Said he had contact with Joe too.” He hands out the glass towards Harry, which he grabs lazily.

His head snaps at the mention of his name, eyebrows pulling forward. “Joe? That son of a bitch who works in the Red Room?”

Reece can only give a small shrug, sipping on the alcoholic beverage. “We don’t know for sure. But i talked to a few guys at the club, they mentioned about Joe having a close off relations with other drug cartels. They didn’t give me names but it’s a coincidence.”

Harry nods, pinching his bottom lip with his forefinger and thumb. Something that he always does whenever he’s in a deep thought. “Joe’s an Italian… He said something about having colleagues who worked there six months prior.” He mumbles, fiddling with the bottom edge of the paper. “You’re saying that the package that I've delivered and the 50k he owes me, Blanco has something to do with it?”

“I didn’t exactly confirm it, Boss. but it could be. Joe’s a tricky asshole, he would find any kind of loophole to get out of his fucking mess.” Reece answers, gulping down his drink in one swig.

“Okay then… We’ll get our heads in the game tomorrow morning. Call Junior and Dominic as well.” Harry states, throwing the papers back to the table and exhaling a sigh. “Need to make a few calls tonight”

“Oh? Was it the girl back in the room, boss? Got her number already?” He teases, gathering the photographs and tucking them back into the brown paper.

“Fuck no” He laughs, pulling out his phone from the back pocket. “Not tonight.”

“So the answer to that last question is…?”

Harry rolls his eyes in annoyance yet pulling off a small smirk to grace on his face, sipping on his drink as he waves Reece off. Earning a loud cackle from him,

“Told your ass you would get it tonight right? Always listen to your right hand man, boss! Motherfucker is always right.” Reece sticks his tongue out as a form of mockery and point at himself which causes Harry to laugh,

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Harry says getting annoyed though really he can’t seem to fight back a smile,

“So what happened? Did she casually slip her number on or what?” Reece asks, moving towards the kitchen to put the empty glass on the sink,

Clearing his throat, Harry shakes his head. “Asked Beck for it. I don’t think she’s the type to easily give out her digits to a man she knew for less than an hour.”

Now Reece is confused. “So you asked someone else for her number and hope to pester her later?”

“No” Harry denies, “Just wanna surprise her a little. What’s with the interrogation?” He asks, getting quite defensive, twirling the drink lightly, causing the ice to clink against the glass.

Reece stares at his boss with a perplexed look before laughing, “you’re not making any sense boss but all right.” He shrugs on his black suit and reaches for his keys. “Night, boss. Try to get some sleep eh? You look like shit”

Harry rumbles a chuckle, “I’ll let you know if we’re on tomorrow. Drive safe”

With a nod, Reece salutes to Harry and opens the front door before walking out of his mansion and drives off back to his home.

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Her head hurts when she wakes up, hand pressing on to it and giving a slight massage in hopes to ease the pain. She removes herself from the bed and struts her way to the kitchen just in her bra and panties. It has become her routine sleeping half naked--or just naked really-- she hates sleeping with clothes on. Especially during this time where the weather isn’t really considering to coordinate with where she lives.

She spots her phone on the kitchen counter and reaches out to grab it, pressing the home button key to find a few dozens of messages that were sent from last night. Mostly from Violet.

Vio: Okay you little bitch, you haven’t spilled the tea on how it went last night.

Vio: Please tell me you at LEAST sucked his dick

Y/n chokes on her morning coffee at Violet’s bluntness. Setting down her cup while shaking her head, swiping her finger to the right to respond to her message,

Violet is known to have a big mouth. She honestly could give two fucks about what other people think, one of the things Y/N loves about her best friend. Not that she’s any different from her.

“Vi you little ass” she mutters on her breath with a small smirk, typing down the message before pressing send,

Y/N: i did NOT suck anyone’s dick last night.

Y/N: aaand… nothing happened. Just got paid to do a lap dance.

As she puts her phone back on the table, she decides to make herself a breakfast. Pulling out a carton of eggs from the fridge and sausages. She sighs looking at her empty fridge, only spotting a half filled milk, bacon and the instant korean noodles from last week.

It’s not that she earns a very small paycheck from her job that she could barely buy groceries. But the thing is, being a stripper kept her extremely busy whether during the day or night. She’s barely even at her place most of the time. Joe always makes her come early to do unnecessary shit but of course, she can’t go against him.

Today is the lucky day though, it’s her day off. She can finally take a breather and relax. Perhaps watch the new season of La Casa De Papel or read a few books. She never got to finish Paulo Coelho’s ‘The Spy’.

“Okay, I really need to go get groceries” she utters, slamming the fridge door close before breathing out a sigh. Heading towards the stove to turn it on,

As she cracks open the egg one by one, she hears her device vibrate from behind causing her to stop her movement. She spins on her heel to see an unknown number calling, eyebrows knitting together as curiosity starts to build up inside of her.

‘Who the hell is calling her at 9 am in the morning? Other than Joe and Violet that is.’

As she clutches her phone in her palm, she’s debating whether to turn it off or answer it. Small chances are it’s her ex boyfriend, Kai. Begging for another chance to be with her since he fucked it up with their relationship the last time. He hasn’t stopped pestering her, changing his number every chance he gets.

With a sigh, she taps the answer icon before pressing it against her ear. “Hello?”

“Morning, gorgeous”

Her eyes bug out a little, freezing in place as she hears the voice speak. An unfamiliar deep british accent ringing through her ear. She can sense a smirk on his face as he speaks to her. That cocky bastard.

“Mr. Styles?” she asks carefully, feeling the need to confirm that it’s actually him. “No offense but… how the hell did you get my number?” She walks back towards the stove, finishing cracking the two eggs before giving it a mix. Pouring them on the pan to make an omelette.

“From someone” He says sarcastically, almost making her scoff. “Not from Joe if you’re wondering.”

“Mhmm” she murmurs, finding it hard to believe but she plays along anyway. “Can I ask you what you want from me, Mr. Styles?”

She’s not entirely annoyed that he called. But shouldn’t people learn to not ring someone at 9 am in the morning, especially if that person just woke up? Clearly rules don’t apply to him.

Harry smiles hearing her soft angelic voice, ring clad fingers tapping against his work table. “Can’t stop thinking about you if i’m being honest, doll. You were driving me crazy last night.”

She bites down her plump lip, smiling at how her charm gives that much effect on him. “Mhmm really? Which one? Me grinding on your hard on, me dancing around the pole, or the one where I was tracing my fingers along your tattoos? Gotta be specific” she teases with a flirty tone,

Groaning as a response, he throws his head back against the chair and shuts his eyes close momentarily. Imagining the look on her face when she teases. “You’re doing it on purpose. You’re gonna make me hard again, baby. Don’t start something you can’t finish”

“Big boss don’t like playing games?” She pushes, faking a pout though he can’t see her. Grabbing the steel spatula to flip the egg. “My bad.”

“Don’t tempt me doll. I love playing games. Especially with a pretty girl like you.” He responds, standing up from his chair only in his grey sweatpants. His tan chest glistened with flicker of sweat. “But what’s the point of playing around if your fine self isn’t here with me?”

She lets out a breathy giggle, playing with her uncooked eggs with the edge of her spatula. Enjoying every word that came out of his mouth. “Is that your subtle way of asking me out on a date?”

“Maybe. Didn’t really have the chance to get to know each other last night, yeah?” He questions, sinking his teeth on his lip. “You had me hooked the minute you stepped into the room.”

‘God, he’s good. He’s really good.’ she thinks,

y/n clears her throat, tracing her finger gently around the empty plate. Just like she did to his tattoos last night. “I thought Mafias don’t do relationships?”

“We lie sometimes doll. Doesn’t mean we actually meant it.” He declares, smiling to himself at her playful teasing. “So what time do i have to pick you up?”

A small laugh escapes from her mouth, shaking her head side to side at his question. Plating the egg on the plate before moving it to the counter so she can sit on the stool. “Very forward. I’m flattered” She admits, feeding herself a small bit of the dish. “What would happen if i said no?”

His eyes look up to the ceiling as he answers, “then i’ll keep asking again and again until you say yes.”

“Talk about harassment!” she gasps in a playful way, hand on her heart. “Please tell me your last girlfriend didn’t witness the same thing as i am right now.”

He chuckles, pinching his bottom lip with his long fingers. Mind fills with the image of her gorgeous body moving like she did for him in the private room. “She went through far worse, you should be grateful” He jokes, hearing her laugh after. “So? What time?”

It may sound like it’s a bad idea for her to go out with him, knowing he’s the most dangerous and possibly most wanted man in New York. Yet, on the other hand, why not?

Go hard or go home, she guesses? Besides, it’d probably just be two strangers getting to know each other. What harm could it bring?

Perhaps she won’t be hearing the end of it from Violet.

She tilts her head as she thinks of a way to respond. “Just a friendly hang out right?” she asks, chewing on her meal. “I could use a friend.” she flirts

“If you wanna call it that, doll” he utters, shrugging his shoulders a bit. Playing along to whatever game she’s pulling. “I could use a friend too. . . been pretty lonely” he flirts back, wondering what her answer may be.

She tries to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. She really does. But how? This man is way too fucking good with the way he speaks. As if he knows he’s gonna get her wrapped around his fingers soon.

y/n taps her fingers against the tiles, purposely keeping him waiting. “I’m free at 8. . . or 9 works too.” she bites her lip, playing with her food with the fork. She can’t find any desire to eat anymore, too busy playing around with the world’s dangerous mafia boss.

“9 it is then” he confirms. Walking out of his work room to go downstairs. “I’ll see you tonight, beautiful.”

“See you” she then hangs up on the phone and sets it down. Grabbing her coffee with both hands as she lifts it to her lips and takes a sip. Locking her eyes on the phone screen, trying to process what just happened.

Stomach swimming with excitement and nerves as she thinks about having another intimate moment with Harry later. She has no idea where he’s gonna take her later but she knows one thing for sure,

She’s not gonna wake up in her own bed in the morning.

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*

a/n: there you have it, part 2! :) don’t worry, the smut scene is coming up on the next chapter (hopefully). Enjoy reading my loves! 

#harry styles x reader #harry styles blurbs #harry styles imagines #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfictions #dom!harry #dom!harry styles #mafia!harry #mafia!harry styles #gang!harry #gang!leader harry #daddy!harry #daddy!harry styles

[stinkysidebitch]

Leaked! (Shinso x Reader)

-Kaminari breaks your heart and Shinso picks up the pieces

(Warning): Depressive thoughts, bullying, revenge porn, numbness, isolation.

————————–

 “I’m sorry… but I just don’t have time for this anymore, you know?”

That was what Kaminari told you that right before your 3rd year anniversary. You attended U.A.’s college now, both of you adults and seeking a future as pro heroes. His distance wasn’t noticeable if it existed at all. In fact you thought your relationship had been perfect.

Regardless it didn’t take him long to get a girlfriend after dumping you. Maybe a week?

 If that?

Clearly he had been talking to her for a bit before he threw you away, the time frame was just too small for it to be anything other than that. You did a lot of crying in private at that time. Feeling your chest and neck constricting and raw became an old friend. It felt like the only reliable thing you had right now.

 He tried to maintain a friendship between the two of you, and not wanting to lose him you complied. However, the hurt filling your chest everytime you saw him kissing that girl or casually holding her hand like it was nothing you couldn’t help but glare. After awhile he picked up on it and eventually confronted you. Of course he waited till classes started, blocking your escape so you had no choice but to answer him.

“(Y/N) why were you staring at her like that? It’s kinda creeping her out..”

‘Creeping her out?’ You narrowed your eyes at him.“I was looking at you more-”

“That doesn’t make it any less weird.”

You couldn’t believe him at the time. This uncaring side of Denki was foreign to you. The familiar tightness formed in your throat as you looked him square in the eyes. He leaned against the hallway wall so casually, looking at you with an almost bored expression.

“I loved you, you asshole! You started dating her right after you dumped me!”

He scoffed at you, glaring harshly as he retorted. “Oh, so you’re just jealous? C’mon (Y/N), we’re supposed to be friends-”

“What do you want me to do Denki, we were together for three years…. I can’t just act like-”

“Like what? This is ridiculous, you’re acting like Bakugo right now.” He grumbled. It made your skin crawl. To compare you to someone with anger issues just because you were hurt… It was just blatantly cruel.

“I can’t act like we never happened! I still love you, okay? Give me time to move on!”  Your voice cracked as tears began to cloud your vision. It felt so suffocating to air this out now, especially considering you were being blinded by your own tears. You still didn’t miss the way he dismissively held up a hand to silence you.

“You aren’t even giving her a chance (Y/N). Just taking out your issues on her, it’s messed up!”

That was it. You stormed up to him, harshly jabbing your finger in his chest as you spat out the last thing you would ever say to him.

“Fuck you Kaminari. I hope your girlfriend figures out what a dick you are, for her sake.”

He jolted a bit at the name usage. It came out harsher than expected, you hadn’t called him that in forever. At the same time it was nice to let it out, even though it was hard to acknowledge who he really was. And just like that, you stormed off. You didn’t just cut ties with Kaminari, you cut ties with all of his friends too. If any of them tried to reach you you would ignore or dismiss their concern. It would only make things weirder. They gave up pretty quickly. One of your closest friends Shinso was left in the dark aswell. You didn’t even bother to answer his texts or calls.

Talking wasn’t really something you generally bothered to do anymore. Communicating with other people really required energy that you didn’t have right now. Sometimes you weren’t sure if anyone noticed or cared. It felt like you were all alone. Like if you weren’t there things would be about the same. So you decided to make it feel that way. 

You didn’t hang out with your friends. 

You didn’t hang out with your family. 

You went to your classes and that was it.

You crashed in your dorm at the end of every uneventful day and lay in bed alone.

The sheets were colder than you remembered.

It had been a few weeks since that nasty fight when you trudged out of bed for yet another depressing day on campus. It didn’t take you long to notice the way people were paying more attention to you. 

You didn’t like it.

People were staring and even giggling at you throughout the day. It wasn’t something you were used to. Still, it was easy enough to ignore. You had no idea what was going on, but it didn’t matter. 

It wasn’t until your third class of the day that things got bad. You were staring out the window from your desk noting the heavy rain. It was rather pretty. There was a patter of heavy rain against the glass that made you feel almost homey. You smiled to yourself at the brief, peaceful moment. It didn’t last long, though.

 A small group of boys approached and you attempted to ignore their presence. It wasn’t until they were standing directly in front of your desk that you prepared for them to bother you in some way. What you weren’t expecting though was for one of them to shove his phone in your face.

“This you?”

Mortified wouldn’t even begin to describe how you felt when your eyes locked onto your naked form on the screen. It was a screenshot of a screenshot of a snap.

One that you had sent to Kaminari. 

One that he swore never to save or screenshot so that there wasn’t a risk of you being kicked of U.A’s college.

You nearly fell from how quickly you shot out of your seat. The boys chuckled as you tugged your bag over your shoulders and raced out of the room, unable to breathe from panic as tears streamed down your cheeks. It felt like your legs would give out when people laughed and pointed at you as you desperately ran through the halls. Escape was your only real goal right now.

 Everyone had seen it.

Kaminari leaked your nudes to the entire school, your face included. 

You were going to be kicked out of this college.

You heard someone yelling after you, probably Midoriya, but it didn’t take long for him to be stopped and you to reach one of the exit doors. There was only one place you would be alone right now. 

The track.

If you stayed under the bleachers you would at least be dry so that was where your body decided to take you.

Without thinking you scrambled across the wet grass, openly crying while rain heavily poured around you. It was like a safety blanket right now.

Your clothing was soaked, sticking to your body uncomfortably as you felt your body getting cold. When you reached the bleachers you hastily scrambled underneath the nearest one, squeezing yourself under and throwing your bag to the side. You ignored the way rocks and dirt tore the knees on your pants up and cut through your skin as you crawled into a corner. 

Thankfully the bleachers were solid, so no rain was leaking through. Finally, when you were far enough inside you curled your knees into your chest and wrapped your shaky arms around them like a shield. The pain in your throat from crying made you feel sore and raw. Most of all you felt tired, but at least no one knew where you were now.

A weak sigh crawled from your throat as you sat in the dark, dripping on the ground. How long you sat there you didn’t know. If it weren’t for the horrible embarrassment you felt there was a high chance you would’ve fallen asleep to the sound of rain hitting the top of the bleachers and the ground surrounding it. Eventually you started to grow really cold. You were shaking pretty badly- after all it was autumn. 

It was only when your butt grew numb that you heard a sound outside of the bleacher. Like a knock.

“Hey, let’s go inside.”

That sounded like Shinso. It was hard to tell with all of the rain, though. You didn’t bother to look up, tightening your grip on your knees and burying your head even further down.

“(Y/N)?”

“Go away.” Your voice betrayed you, shaky and weak. You never told Shinso to go away because he wasn’t the type to reach out. That’s how he knew how serious this was.

There was a click and a slight shuffle. You assumed he was walking off but you were wrong.

Instead of saying anything else, he threw his bag and what sounded like his umbrella under the bleacher and crawled in after you. Shinso sat on the dirt, far enough away to ensure you were comfortable. It was no secret that he probably wasn’t the best with comforting but when it came to you everything came easily.

You could feel his lavender eyes lazily tracing over you as they always did. The idea that he had seen that picture made you want to run and hide somewhere else but you knew it wouldn’t do any good.

He took note of the easiest part of you to identify in the dark, your hands. They were shaking and the color was off. They looked paler and cooler in color than they should be.

“Can I see your hand?”

You jolted at the question, slightly lifting your head but still refusing to look in his direction. You gave a weak nod and offered it hesitantly to your friend. 

He took your hand in two of his. You shivered feeling how incredibly warm his  were. You had held hands with him before, but after being isolated for as long as you had they felt incredible.

“Shit, you’re freezing.” Shinso grumbled, rubbing his hands over your own to provide some circulation and heat.

You nearly died when he lifted your hand to his mouth and blew hot air against the appendage. It was such a gentle gesture that most people didn’t associate with someone like him but you knew him better than that. He was almost always gentle with you. Subconsciously you found yourself scooting closer to your purple haired friend, craving the warmth he had to offer.

When you could hear his steady breathing you stopped and finally turned to look at him. It broke his heart to see such a miserable look on your face. He had forgotten that he was still holding your hand, rubbing soothing circles on the back. You didn’t stop him. It felt nice.

“You know, don’t you.”

It was more of a statement that a question. He gave a hesitant nod.

“Did… did you see?”

“No.”

A relieved sigh escaped your lips, but it came out shaky. It was either caused by the crying or cold, but it was probably a combination of both. Without another word Shinso took off his black zip up hoodie and pulled it over your shoulders.

“Thanks Shin..”

“It was that Kaminari guy, wasn’t it?”

He sounded angry. That was actually pretty unusual for your stoic friend. You couldn’t get yourself to answer. Remembering that fight made your lip wobble. You looked down at your knees and tried to hold back the tears but it was no use.

“I knew it. That asshole.” He pulled you into a gentle hug, his warm, strong arms holding you to his chest. You couldn’t stop the choked sob from ripping itself painfully from your throat. One hand rubbed gentle circles on your upper back while the other remained wrapped around your middle. Even though you were crying your eyes out he still made you safe. After awhile though, you cried yourself out but didn’t let go of Shinso.

“I-I’m going to get kicked out of… of U.A….” You mumbled against his chest between shaky breaths.

“No you won’t. Midoriya already told the principal that it was Kaminari.”

You pulled back, a shocked look on your face.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

A thankful hum left your lips as you gave your friend an approving nod. In truth it was still weird for someone to do that for you, but Midoriya meant well and Shinso respected your boundaries. Hopefully if anyone was kicked out it was Kaminari. Someone who leaked nudes definitely didn’t deserve to be a hero.

“Come watch a movie with me in my dorm?” He rubbed the back of his neck as he asked. He was probably worried it would make you feel anxious, but you gave him a reassuring smile and nod. You caught a glimpse of his signature smirk as he turned towards the way you both had come.

You followed Shinso as he led you out, taking both of the bags while you opted to hold up the umbrella for the two of you. A few times you accidentally bonked his head with it and the two of you chuckled about it like kids. He had really gotten tall over the past few years. You only noticed these little things about him now for some reason but you found yourself labeling him as quite attractive.

He smelled nice too. Kinda like fresh laundry. Warm and inviting, not something most people would expect from him either.

When you entered the building Shinso took the door that most people didn’t use. Thankfully the hallways were sparse because most people were in class right now. Still, you found yourself hiding behind him anytime a student met your eyes.

Shinso didn’t mind, even stepping in front of you a few times. He didn’t realize it but that little gesture meant everything to you right now. He suggested his dorm because it was close and pretty secluded. He also didn’t have a roommate. In Shinso’s eyes that was the definition of heaven.

It didn’t take too long to get there. When you finally did he let you enter first, following and sliding the door closed. You flipped the switch and was greeted with his simple room. There was a gaming setup for PC and then the tv with a firestick setup. 

Shinso offered you some of his own clothes since you were wet and the both of you changed into dry, comfortable attire. Both of you faced the walls. After what happened today he wanted to be sure you knew he wasn’t going to cross a single boundary.

When you both plopped down on the edge of his bed he turned on your favorite horror movie, scooting back until he hit the wall. You wiggled back to meet him with a playful giggle and he simply shook his head with a small grin at your childishness.

It wasn’t until the movie had been playing for a bit that you remembered how warm Shinso was. His steady breathing next to you was soothing, almost making you feel sleepy if you weren’t so painfully aware of his presence.

Without much thought you leaned closer until your shoulders brushed. He didn’t seem bothered by it at all, gently rubbing his shoulder against yours as a sign of affection. You two had been friends since right after the sports festival so physical contact was pretty normal now. Gently, you rested your head against his firm shoulder and kept your heavy eyes trained on the screen. His breathing hitched and he temporarily stiffened. You thought maybe you had gone too far.

That was until he lifted his arm and wrapping it around your shoulder, pulling you closer with ease. There was that warm laundry smell again. Damn him for smelling so good.

You absentmindedly nuzzled your head into his chest, listening to his notably fast heartbeat. That was when you realized that you didn’t really view Shinso in a completely platonic light. 

And you were okay with that.

Clearly he was too. There was no denying the way he acted around you. The only thing you were worried about though was coming off as a hypocrite.

“Hey Shin?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it bad if… If…”

He noticed the hesitance, dragging his eyes from the screen to the top of your head with a concerned expression.

“If what?”

“If I like someone.. even though things with Denk- Kaminari, I mean- ended so recently?”

You were surprised to hear a deep chuckle above you. Pulling back you shot Shinso a pout and he lazily smirked at you like he always did.

“No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

Because that’s… kinda what he did to me.”

Your purple haired friend’s expression quickly changed to a slightly saddened one and his tone became serious as he pulled back a little to look at you. To really look at you.

“(Y/N)… you are nothing like that. Don’t ever say something like that about yourself.”

You tried to ignore his remark, but two hands clasped your own keeping your attention firmly on Shinso.

“Y’know, I like someone too. Someone who just went through a bad breakup. Does that make me a bad guy?” You felt your heart flutter a little when he said that. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle.

“Well.. no, but-”

“But nothing. It’s not the same, okay? You’re nothing like that prick.”

The way Shinso talked about you, like you mattered… it was something Kaminari had never truly showed you in all of the three years you had been together. The look of adoration in this man’s eyes right now made your heart pound in your ears. The room was hot now, like the air had been sucked from it but almost in a pleasant way. You didn’t know what you were doing, but you lunged forward, pressing your lips against his.

They were soft and smooth. You knew he tried to take care of himself but you didn’t know Shinso took it so seriously. He kissed you back almost immediately. You felt a hand cup your cheek as he angled his head to deepen the kiss. Your mouths opened and it was really all a blur. All you knew was that Shinso was was here with you right now. He cared about you more than your douche of a boyfriend ever did, and he had probably liked you for awhile judging by the way he was really savoring the kiss.

Somewhere between smooches you told each other how you really felt. How badly Shinso wanted you since before you even met Kaminari and how you wished you had just dated Shinso instead.

Needless to say despite Kaminari’s best efforts, he couldn’t put you down.

Shinso simply refused to allow it.

————————–

(A/N) who wants a part 2? Also I know the ending sucks but my Grandpa died like 3 days ago so yeah… lacking motivation.

#bnha #shinsou hitoshi #hitoshi shinso imagine #bnha shinso x reader #bnha x reader #bnhaangst #shinso comfort #bnha reader insert

[bitchiha]

hey!!! can you maybe do any of the boys that your heart would like and the request is; “them seeing/meeting your ex boyfriend for the first time” | so like the shisuirequest??

A/N: Yes I can write this for you!! I chose to write it for Kiba, Naruto and Sai! Bc Sai doesn’t get enough love =(^.^)=

✎ Meeting their s/o’s ex boyfriend!

Kiba

So allow me to paint the scene: it all starts when Kiba is walking you home from one of your routine walks together. He’s got his arm around your waist and he’s telling you about how Hianata almost passed out this morning when Naruto said hi to her. You both laugh as he finishes the memory and Akamaru trails behind you two panting happily.

You live on a pretty busy village street. So you normally see people you know all the time around your house. They’re always passing by to get groceries or go to one of the food stands nearby. So when someone calls out your name you turn around casually — expecting to see Shino or something.

But who you did not expect to see was your ex boyfriend running up to you, pushing passed people on the crowded street without batting an eye. He was kind of a douchebag.

Kiba immediately stops laughing as he feels your back tensing up around his arm. Akamaru starts growling lowly as a response to sensing both yours and Kibas alert.

Tbh tho.. The reason you’re probably the most panicked is because this is Kiba Inuzuka, you’re hotheaded boyfriend who’s just a smidge bit possessive... and he’s meeting your ex boyfriend who’s overconfident and well, for lack of better words - a douchebag.

Your ex walks up to you two and sizes up Kiba and omfg that pisses your boyfriend off. “Y/n, who’s this guy.” Definitely shows his canines (is it an accident? or did he do it to intimidate this dude? You’ll never know.)

Anyways, your ex is cocky as shit — let’s call him Makki. So he interrupts you before you even get the chance to explain to Kiba who he is, “-Oh y/n, you’ve never mentioned me? I’m Makki, her ex boyfriend.”

Dude probably eats up the pissed off look on Kibas face. Like he’s yikes lmfao he’s really pissed off.

Like who does this cocky shit think he is?? Kiba is ready to fight lol “Oh yeah buddy, that’s real good for yo-“

Your ex just cuts him off... like blatantly ignores Kiba and turns to you, “It’s been a while y/n, you still look as gorgeous as ever...” he winks at you and Kiba growls LMFAOO, but Makki just ignores him. “We’d been together for so long y/n, so how come I never knew you liked... dogs so much.” He stares at Kiba right when he says dogs and he gives him this appalled expression on his face

Kibas confused for a second bc dogs are cute....“But there’s nothing wrong with dogs- oh wait! Hey were you trying to insult me you knucklehead!”

HOLD KIBA BACK HOLD KIBA BACK FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

So you’ve got your boyfriend held back, but you forgot about Akamaru.. rookie mistake. Now that giant dog is running towards Makki and the boy starts sprinting for dear life.

Kiba has a good laughing fit at the sight, “that’ll show him.” But you’re concerned because yes your ex is a douchebag and you did enjoy watching him run away scared, but you don’t want Akamaru to get in trouble for this. So you tell Kiba to go find Akamaru this instant.

“All right all right I’ll get em now... See you tomorrow, same time as today?” You nod hurriedly, wanting him to go Asap. You watch him run off before opening the door to your house and going inside.

Which was another rookie mistake.

Once you were inside he stopped running. He placed his hands behind his neck in a relaxed way as he strolled down the street, whistling like he didn’t have a dog to chase down.

“Have at em’ Akamaru”

Naruto

Yup.. you guessed it, this takes place at Ichirakus. It’s a Friday night and you two had no missions or other commitments to take care of, so he swung by your place and insisted you two go out for ramen.

So there you two sat, chatting away between mouthfuls of ramen when your ex boyfriend slides into the seat next to you.

Narutos oblivious tbh.

Like your ex just sits an elbow on the table and looks at you with a smirk, “hey, y/n, long time no see.” And you’re like.. ew wtf are you doing here.

Unlike Kiba, Naruto can’t pick up on your distaste, he just thinks it’s an old friend of yours. “Hey babe, who’s this guy?”

Your ex just introduces himself by his name and you decide to leave it at that, if you tell Naruto he’s your ex he will just get difficult to handle. So, you introduce Naruto as Naruto to avoid your ex getting all competitive too.

So you kinda avoid all relationship talk altogether and just completely skip over that fact. Honestly you’re half glad you did because Naruto actually gets along with him. Like for starters they both like ramen, are knuckleheaded and very loud. You definitely have a type. And they’re super funny too, so the whole time they’re just kinda laughing with eachother.

Had a good 15 minute long conversation about their favourite instant noodle brand and roasted you for the brand you liked. “Really y/n, that’s shameful.” They both say it in unison.

Also, your ex didnt have the intention to come into Ichirakus and crash your date, it was just a coincidence. So there was no ulterior motives to his presence and he’s not the type of guy to do it tbh. To top it all off he ends up paying for the ramen. Your ex literally pays for both you and Narutos ramen.

Such a weird experience for you tbh, but it’s also kinda funny to watch them both oblivious to your relationship with them.

At the end of the night when your ex heads home, you tell Naruto. Like you’re strolling through the busy Friday night rush and you finally spring it on him because he won’t shut up about your ex.

“Wow that guy was so cool y/n, never knew you had friends like that!” “Well actually Naruto, hes sorta my ex boyfriend.”

His eyes pop out of his head. “WHAT and you’re just telling me this now??” He’s in his head like: damn I should have showed off more or I should have made more jokes to prove that I’m the better one. He’s also like: shit he’s so cool how can he compete???!!1!1!1

Tries to hate your ex from then on, but they’re just so alike he literally cannot.

Luckily you don’t ever run into him like that again.

Sai

So.. let’s just be real here.. if you’re dating Sai you clearly have a type. You go for those emo little artsy boys. The only problem is that your ex boyfriend was an emo preppy rich art boy. You couldn’t stand his attitude anymore so you two broke up.

The only problem is that you live in the Leaf village and there’s very limited art events, so you would always bump into him. Luckily you hadn’t run into him with Sai around.. until now lol

You’re with Sai at an art exhibit that you managed to get him to submit work for. He was hesitant at first, but he gave in because you kept asking, and if he was being honest he wouldn’t mind showing some of his pieces.

So there you two are, standing together like that emo art couple that you are when your ex boyfriend walks in. He literally looks like the definition of avant garde. When he sees you he’s prepared to make some condescending comment, but then he sees Sai and he’s like: oh shit

Let’s be real here if anyone saw you and Sai together it would be an “oh shit” moment. You’re just an art power couple. That doesn’t mean your exes snobbiness would let him back down though.

So, this dude wants to prove he’s superior. When he walks up to the two of you he flat out interrupts the conversation and is like, “y/n, nice to see you,” then he turns to Sai and jusy gets down to business “so? You like art, then?”

Sai doesn’t comprehend the hostility in your ex’s tone so he answers it with a smile, prepared to tell him that this is actually his exhibit before he’s Interrupted again. “-Oh so you like art then? Okay, describe what mediums are used here.” your ex points at one of Sai’s paintings, not aware that he literally fucking painted it because he didn’t let Sai finish speaking.

So of course Sai answers and goes into a whole ramble about what mediums and why and how they bring out the details. Your ex kinda stands there like: “oh shit” again bc damn, he knows his shit.

He just points at another painting and is like, “what about this one.” And as your ex turns to study it better himself he realizes it’s literally you. It’s a painting that Sai did of you when you two first met eachother, you’re laying on the grass laughing and there’s orange hues dancing across your face indicating that the sun is setting. It’s one of Sais absolute favourites.

It’s such a bomb ass fucking painting and your ex just kinda stares at it confused and shook and you have to explain, “my boyfriends work is in this exhibit, he painted that one of me.”

But as I said, your ex is a douchebag and he’s not going to let your boyfriend get a compliment from him so he just goes, “hmph, it’s nothing special.”

And that kinda bothers Sai because that’s his girlfriend in that painting therefore it is very special.

You know where this is going. Naruto said the same line to him before LOL

So Sai hits him with this signature line, “just like your dick.” AND HE SAYS IT W THE FAKE SMILE LMFAO

Now your ex is literally dead. Like he’s flamed. On the floor straight up incinerated. And your trying to hide your laughter.

Security has to escort the guy out.

Very memorable moment for the two of you.

10/10

#naruto shippuden #naruto #naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto x reader #kiba x reader #sai x reader #sai headcanons #anime headcanon

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [2]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

➜ Words: 2.2k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

“In this recipe, we’re using baking soda instead of baking powder. Why? Does anyone remember the reason when we talked about our recipe of mille-feuille?”   You’re twirling your pen in your hand, bored out of your mind while someone answers that baking soda doesn’t have the acid that baking powder would normally add and how baking soda has much stronger leavening power than baking powder.   Theory has never been your area of expertise. You’ve always preferred to do the actual baking and go through trial and error than learning through the textbook. So with your mind wandering and from fear of falling asleep, you pull out your phone to text Seokjin. He’s been answering your texts slower these days.   “Alright, next class we’ll put our hands to work in the kitchen. Don’t pack up yet! I got some emails asking about the midterm so I just wanted to answer those questions here! Yes, it will be a collaborative exam and you can re-make anything that we’ve learned thus far in the semester. Baking is all about working together, so before I leave, I’ll post who everyone’s partners are. Come down and take a look before you go.”   With the lecture finished, you pack up your belongings, shoving it all into your bag and swinging the strap over your shoulder to walk down the steps. It’s crowded already, but as people filter out, you’re able to get ahead to look at the paper.   And as luck would have — you’re partnered with Jeon Jungkook.   It’s outrageous. As if having the same internship for three months wasn’t enough, now he’s your midterm partner.   You spin around to the teacher, beelining straight to him. But Jeon Jungkook beats you to it.   “Is there a possible way I can switch my partner?”   “I second that.” For once, you back him up. It’s probably the only thing you can agree on.   Jungkook looks to you before redirecting his attention back at the man who has his brow quirked. “Is there a legitimate reason?”   “Umm….”   “Our schedules don’t align,” Jungkook lies without batting a lash.   “Yeah.” You nod. “He has classes when I don’t and uh, he’s working on different projects when I have work….”   “It would be more convenient if we had different partners.”   “Wow, you two figured out you have incompatible schedules a minute into finding out you’re partners? Well, I’m sure you two can work something out.” Mr. Chu smiles, overly positive in a way that irks you. “Things have a way of working themselves out.”   In these circumstances, you’re not too sure about that.   Jungkook swallows hard, finding whatever excuse he can. “I’m afraid Y/N won’t pull her weight.”   “Excuse me?!” You can’t believe he blatantly threw you under the bus in front of your face. “That’s completely untrue! He won’t be able to pull his weight.”   “We’re just incompatible partners.” Jungkook outright ignores you. “I am happy to work with anyone, Mr. Chu. Just not her. Park Jimin said he would be fine to switch his partner and work with me.” He hitches a thumb over his shoulder to his timid friend standing near the door who realizes he’s being talked about and gives a polite wave.   Yet, the teacher gives a long sigh. “Look, you two. I know there’s bad blood between you both but wouldn’t this be a great opportunity to overcome that like the adults that you are?”   “I—”   “Mr. Chu—”   “I’m sorry, but there won’t be any switching.” He shakes his head. “Often times, you can’t choose who you work with in the real world. You just have to get over it and be professional. Learn a two or thing from that. That’s the point of this midterm. If there are concerns about the project, then you can visit my office hours. Otherwise, you’ll be working together and that’s final.”   It’s official. You hate your fine pastries class — and it used to be your favourite too.   “Fuck. Fuck,” he’s muttering, kicking the gravel from underneath his feet. You approach him with crossed arms.   “You don’t have to keep saying it.”   “What? That this fucking sucks?”   “Look, I don’t like you anymore than you like me. You don’t have to make it harder than it needs to be.”   “Oh yeah? You want to make it less hard? How about you stop existing then.”   “Okay, fuck you, Johnson. Stop pouting like you’re fucking four years old. Are we going to talk about the project or do you want to flunk?”   “Stop calling me Johnson.”   “Or else what?”   Jungkook rolls his eyes. “You’re so childish.”   “I’m the childish one?” you scoff in disbelief. “I’m not the one practically throwing a tantrum.”   “Whatever. But what’s there to talk about? We’ll make carrot cake.”   “What the hell?” You’re appalled. He’s not even going to ask you? “No, we’ll make the charlotte royale.”   “No, you idiot.” He pinches the bridge of his nose.   You scoff again. This was absolutely unbelievable. It’s a shame that no one’s listening into this conversation — there’s no way you would be able to retell just how absurd this was. “Did you just call me an idiot?”   “Yes, carrot’s the easiest. We’ll get it done and over with.”   “I don’t want to get it done and over with.” You point right at him. “Unlike you, I care about my grades, okay? So what if it’s easy? It won’t get us the marks we need.”   “Since when did you care about your grades?”   “Okay, fuck off, Jeon.”   Having enough of him, you decide to walk away but Jungkook soon calls out after you. “Are you going to give me your phone number?”   You’re horrified enough to spin around and regard him with a disgusted expression. “What? No!”   “For the project, you dumbass. You think I’m asking because I want to know?”   You roll your eyes to the back of your skull and close the distance with three strides again. Surprisingly, the both of you civilly exchange contact information without ripping each other’s heads off but you don’t want to be with him longer than you need to. “When are we going to meet up? We should decide so I don’t have to text you.”   “I’m fine with whenever.”   “Tomorrow then.”   “Sure.”   You leave already texting Jin your grievances. He doesn’t answer since he’s so busy, but you’re ready to unload.   //   The next day comes too quickly.   The first person you see in the morning is the last person you ever want to see — and Jungkook isn’t amused either. He regards you with a lazy gaze, dark circles, oversized black hoodie and jeans that he probably picked up off his floor and put on after giving a good sniff.   Other partners are already in the kitchen figuring out their recipes, but you have yet to decide what to make. You swear the asshat is just disagreeing with you to make it harder and more miserable.   “What don’t you understand? What you’re asking for is too unreasonable.”   “Really? You think whipping meringue by hand is too difficult? Maybe you shouldn’t be baking then, Jeon.”   “It’s time consuming,” he groans and rubs his temple. “And it’s not worth it. If you want to spend your time doing something impressive than we should make something like fucking I don’t know, Napoleon cake and call it a day.”   “Okay, sounds good to me.”   “What? Actually?”   “I don’t see why not. You can make the puff pastry while I make the custard. We assemble together.”   “You make it sound easier than it’ll be, but fine. We can meet up tonight. What, don’t give me that look. It’s not like you’re busy. And spending time with your boyfriend doesn’t constitute as being busy. The sooner we get this done, the sooner it’s over.”   “Fine. How about eight?”   “Seven thirty. See you then.”   You’re exasperated. He’s a jerk. And you go on your way while shaking your head.   8:21 am. Y/N: still cant believe my luck   5:43 pm. Seokjin: Hey where are you?  5:44 pm. Seokjin: We should meet

Jungkook lives his life precariously. He is flexible and follows his instincts. That’s not to say he’s irresponsible, reckless or that he’s fickle. He’s adaptable and it’s the reason why he started baking anyways — a whim that he fell in love with. 

  Jungkook prefers to go with his gut feeling than plan every step of the way. And it’s his gut feeling that tells him you’re nothing but an absolute headache.   “Let me suck on your muffin.”   Yoongi’s expression dies, washing over into an impassive state. “Say that again, Kim, and I’ll never bring my extra muffins again.” Taehyung whines on the couch while Jimin laughs. Yoongi looks over at Jungkook. “Hey, want one, Kook?”   He tosses him a blueberry muffin anyhow but Jungkook chucks it at Hoseok who catches it in both hands, almost missing. “Nah. What time is it? I gotta go.”   “Where are you going on a Friday night at seven?”   “Ooh, it’s a date, isn’t it?” Taehyung grins. “What kind of girl?”   “Who is it?” Hoseok clarifies the question, cheek full of muffin. “I haven’t heard you talk about anyone ever.”   “He wishes.” Jimin giggles, have an inkling of where it was he was going.   “it’s not a date, dumbass. I have a meeting with my midterm project partner.”   “Damn,” Yoongi comments, biting into the muffin he baked earlier in class. “That��s rough.”   “His partner’s Y/N,” Jimin says with a sparkle in his eye, watching Jungkook get up from the couch.   Taehyung’s eyes bulge. They nearly fall out of their sockets and he wheezes, pounding his chest as part of the muffin stuck in his gullet. “You’re partners with that psycho bitch?”   “Yeah.” The youngest of all of them sighs. “I couldn’t change.”   Jungkook walks past, but Yoongi stops him, plopping a hand on his shoulder. The usually cold man seems sympathetic for once and holds up his muffin. “Are you sure you don’t want one?”   He dreads it — having to ditch his friends on a Friday night and the warmth of his dorm room. All in exchange for the chilly wind outside and the empty kitchens that’re eerie without souls inside them, just metal bowls and silver appliances. But Jungkook drags himself there anyway.    He’s ten minutes early since he’s not one to leave people waiting.    But when seven thirty eventually rolls around, you’re nowhere in sight.   7:34 pm. Jungkook: Are you coming or not   He waits for an additional twenty minutes, sitting on the stool, playing games on his phone. Then he realizes the time and gets started anyhow. The puff pastry always takes longer to make anyways. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t frustrated — Jungkook’s frankly pissed off and if you decided to ditch him, you’ll have one or two things coming, that’s for sure.   Jungkook beats two ounces of butter with a tablespoon of sugar. Then he folds in two beaten eggs, one tablespoon vinegar, cold water, three tablespoons of vodka, and salt. He folds in the two and a half cups of flour and forms a dough in his hands until it’s soft and pliable.    Right when he wraps the bowl in plastic and slides it into the fridge to chill for an hour, the door to the kitchen opens.   “You’re late.”   You’re not even dressed in an apron nor is your hair tied back like it’s supposed to be but he doesn’t comment.   “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you? It’s been an hour and I’m done my part.”   Silence.   You don’t respond. Jungkook scoffs.   It was a new low for you to give him the silent treatment when you’re the late one. Your head is downcasted, facing away from him, giving him the cold shoulder. You don’t spare him one glance as you go over to the fridge, pulling out eggs, sugar, flour, milk, vanilla beans, and butter.   You pour milk into the saucepan haphazardly and it splashes everywhere on the counter.   “Hey, watch it!”    Jungkook rips the carton away from your hands. He didn’t know you were this much of an amateur.   He watches you in mortification as you move to the flour bag, scooping out a whole cup instead of six tablespoons. He wonders if you had a stroke. “Y/N, you’re supposed to do the eggs next. What the hell is wrong with—”   You burst into tears.    Jungkook’s heart stutters. He pales. He freezes in place. He feels his entire body go rigid.    And his brain breaks.   …..   What.   Tears. Full on tears are streaming down your face. You’re wailing, covering your face with your floured hands and crying into them. Your entire frame shakes as devastation wrecks through your entire body. He’s never seen you look so small before. He’s never seen you cry.   Jungkook puts milk down, swallowing hard. He watches you with eyes as big as saucers. “I...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”   You sob. “J-Jin brok..e up w-with m...e.”

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #btsboulangerie #Y'ALL SHIT IS HITTING THE FAN #AT LEAST IT'S ABOUT TO

[yoonjinkooked]

Kitchen Confidential | Jin (2)

banner: @casuallyimagining​

PART 2

PART 1 

Pairing: Seokjin / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Enemies to lovers, chef AU

Warnings: slow burn with explicit sex later, cursing 

Word Count: 5k+ (Part 1 - 5k+) Summary: After years of annoying the life out of you, your rival, Kim Seokjin, pushes you a step too far and he knows it. As angry and resentful as you are, you don’t realize that something has been brewing under the surface for years. This weekend, that will change.

Last night was not nearly as bad as you had thought it would be. The drive to the lake was long, but you were carpooling with Jungkook, so it wasn’t dull for a single moment. Getting there in the late afternoon, all you’ve had time for was dinner and drinks. A dinner which you did not make, for a change. With every single staff member of both respective restaurants, it was very easy to avoid Seokjin – not like he was looking for you either. Drinking wine and reminiscing your school days with Jungkook, Taehyung and Yoongi took the bigger part of your night and made time fly. For a few hours, you thought this weekend teambuilding getaway might not be so bad after all.

That changed this morning at ass crack of dawn, when Namjoon knocked on your door to wake you up and give you a schedule for today. As you read through all the activities listed, your eyes still sleep crusted, you have realized that today was going to be torturous.

“You have got to be shitting me.”

You have tried, you truly did. Kept an open mind and all of that, ready to put your best foot forward and do what is best for your team. But 10 minutes into the group meditation, you’ve had enough.

“Shush,” Mina hisses at you from your left side, her eyes closed. “You’re making me lose focus.”

“Don’t you think you’re losing focus because there are 15 other people in the room pretending not to hear each other breathe? This is ridiculous,” you sigh, but still keep your voice fairly low when talking because you don’t want to make anyone else lose focus. Meditation requires peace and doing it with a bunch of people kind of kills the point.

“Come on Y/N,” Jimin chuckles from your right. “Don’t you want to become one with your team?”

“You will become one with my fist if you don’t shut it,” you whisper back.

“I will sauté both of your asses if you don’t zip it,” Jeongguk warns from in front of you, obviously annoyed by your bickering. “The sooner you shut up, the sooner this shit will be over and we can go outside and grab a damn beer.”

“Please remain quiet!”

You lower your head in shame – as ridiculous as it is, you did not want to piss of the instructor or whatever the hell she is. Judging by the glare directed towards you, you did just that. So, you close your eyes and shut up and let your mind wander over nothing and everything all at once.

With fall around the corner, you’re going to have to update your menu. Seasonal menus are a joy to work on, giving you an option to rebrand everything every couple of months. With all the fresh fall produce you’re going to have at your disposal, the next few weeks are going to be a lot of fun.

Your tricked worked – you were still on the appetizers by the time meditation was over.

“Remind me to never listen to him again,” Yoongi cracks open a beer as he sits down on the grass between you and Jeongguk, with Jimin and Hoseok following him. He has been complaining about Namjoon ever since you guys left the hall where the group meditation took place. “I’m all for teamwork and shit but how the hell is group meditation going to help with that?”

“You know how these things work,” Hoseok shrugs. “Someone makes a plan, sells it as an experience that will unify your team and most people don’t ask questions. Meditation is good, but it has zero to do with teamwork.”

“Paintball makes more sense,” Yoongi mumbles, pausing to sip his beer. “Sure, it’s an unusual choice but if we work in teams, which we obviously will, at least we get to exercise teamwork.”

“Or violence,” Jeongguk chuckles. “If I were Seokjin, I wouldn’t want to be around Y/N with a gun.”

“Easy there, you moron,” you hit him over the shoulder. “Just because I am angry doesn’t mean I’ll turn to violence.”

“What, you’re going to spare him?” Jimin laughs and your eyes narrow at him, remembering that he is on the opposite team. Sure, you don’t know how you’re going to be divided in the actual game but he is one of Seokjin’s best friends. The same way Jeongguk would come running to you with information, you can imagine Jimin doing the same for Seokjin.

“Oh, if he’s on the opposite team, he’s going down,” you sound sure of yourself, which may or may not be a result of having a best friend who is an adrenaline junkie. Despite it not being your thing as much as it his, you’ve accompanied Jeongguk on many paintball, bungee jumping and zip line adventures.

“Here’s to Seokjin’s balls and whatever will be left of them later,” Yoongi raises his can of beer.

“Here, here!”

It is a disaster, a complete and total disaster and the only reason why it’s like this is because Namjoon refused to listen. Taehyung and Jeongguk, who were chosen as team leaders, both tried to explain to him that it would be best if we go restaurant against restaurant but the man did not listen.

And that ended in pure and utter betrayal left and right.

Hoseok, who was on Taehyung’s team, straight up shot Catnip’s waiter, who was on the same team as he was. Jimin, who was supposedly on your side, ended up chasing you for god knows how long before Jeongguk shot him, sacrificing his own team member for your sake. Poor Mina didn’t even bother trying as she stood behind Namjoon, who was standing in the middle of an empty field and yelling at you all to at least try to be loyal to your temporary teams. Someone shot him in the shoulder, and although you have no proof of this, you have a feeling that it was Yoongi.

And you? You were out for blood, specifically Kim Seokjin’s blood. Once Jeongguk got Jimin of your back and the two of them started yelling at each other, you were free to run and chase after that all, wide-shouldered son of a bitch.

You could see him from a mile away – it was tunnel vision, with you blatantly ignoring both your team members and your opponents as you run through the woods, hoping to catch up with him. None of it made sense anymore anyways, with no one even being sure which team they are actually on, despite the blue and red vests that were supposed to differentiate you.

You were not even close to him when the inevitable happens – with your eyesight solely on him, barely registering your surroundings, you trip and fall into a ditch – an actual ditch, meant to be a hideout. And it was, to one of the commis chefs who was on your team by vest, on Seokjin’s team in reality. You ended up rolling into the ditch and falling on top of the poor guy, hurting your ankle in the process.

It hurt, it really did – the only reason you did not wail is because you didn’t want that bastard to hear you. You found the little dignity you had left and you grab a hold of your injured ankle with all the strength you have.

“Are you okay?” the guy asks you once he finally managed to move around and free himself from the weight of your entire body.

“No,” you shake your head. “Are you?”

“I’ll live,” he sighs. “Let’s get you some help.”

Bless him, he truly is a sweetheart. Even though you obviously didn’t fall on him on purpose, he still could have gotten pissed. He did not hold it against you – in fact, he helped you get up and once he realized your right ankle is the source of your troubles, he let you lean on him as he struggled to get the both of you out of the ditch. One minute that felt like an eternity had passed with the two of you still struggling to get up before someone in a blue vest showed up.

Of course. It just had to be him. Out of all the people around you, it had to be him.

“Are you okay?” he asks and before either one of you could answer, he was diving down, offering you a hand. The last thing you wanted to do was to accept his offer but with the way you and the boy have been struggling for the past few minutes, you knew that you did not have much of an option.

You don’t answer his question but you do take his hand and you let him drag you up from the ditch, with his commis chef pushing you from behind. The moment you stood up, you realize that you can’t do that – your right ankle cannot handle the pressure of your body weight. You flinch and crouch down, with Seokjin trying to keep a hold of you – it doesn’t work but it does annoy you. With how close he is, you can smell the cologne he uses.

It’s ridiculous. How can one smell good after running in protective gear for half an hour? How?!

“What happened here?” he asks you as you give up on everything and simply sit on the ground, bending your leg so that you can try and take your shoe off to see if there is any visible damage.

“What the hell does it look like – I fell!” you snap at him in annoyance, taking a deep breath while you remind yourself that even though he’s an ass, he’s not the one to blame for this. “Thanks for your help, you can leave now.”

“Do you need me to carry you back or-?”

“Go away before I shoot you,” you are tempted to throw your shoe at him but you hold back the urge. “The game is still going on, I have a gun and I’m pretty sure that a paintball shot at close range will hurt like hell. Just leave.”

You can see the annoyance on his face as he gives up on you completely. He walks away, leaving you with a very confused guy who by now must be feeling very uncomfortable. “I’m going to go get some help,” he tells you and you nod – his help you are ready to accept.

“Fucking hell,” you examine your ankle for the hundredth time, shocked by how bloated it has gotten. The hotel doctor has assured you that there is no fracture but he also promised that you will be in pain for the next few days. Being bedridden for the rest of the trip didn’t seem like a bad idea but come Monday, you’ll have to be in the kitchen again and you don’t know if you’ll even be able to stand.

“Does it hurt?” Mina asks, looking slightly appalled at the sight of your swollen leg.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to work next week.”

“I’m going to get you more ice,” Jeongguk sighs, looking at you in worry. “You’re going to rest that leg as much as possible. I’ll keep you company and we can watch a movie or something, but you’re not leaving this room,” he orders. Not that you needed someone to tell you that. It’s a perfect excuse to avoid Namjoon and his hippy movement, as well as Seokjin and his stupid face.

“I’ll be here,” Mina reassures him and with one final look of worry, Jeongguk leaves the room. Two seconds of silence later, Mina snaps back to life and turns to you. “Y/N, I need to ask you something.”

“Huh?”

“I need you to do me a favor,” she tells you, looking back to the door, as if she is expecting someone to burst through it in the middle of her telling you some state secret. “Can you please make Jeongguk join us tonight? Like… tell him to not stay with you? If you’re okay with being alone, of course,” she backtracks almost immediately as she realizes that you might actually need someone to keep you company. “Ugh, just forget I said anything,” she shakes her head.

“Mina, chill,” you chuckle. “I hurt my leg, I’m not dying. I can be alone. But… why?”

You can guess, but you still want to hear it from her. It’s pretty common knowledge that Mina has a crush on Jeongguk, and after all this time, you are pretty sure that Jeongguk has noticed it too. He’s not always the brightest cookie in the box, especially not when it comes to women and their subtle flirtation tricks, but Mina has been getting more and more obvious lately.

“I just want to talk to him one on one,” she sighs, looking at you like a kicked puppy. “He’s not going to figure out anything on his own, he’s dumb. I have to draw it and explain it and if that’s what it takes, that’s what I want to do. I’ll never have a better chance than tonight.”

“Not a problem,” you smile at her, willing to help. “I’ll just tell him to join you guys because I want to get some sleep. He’ll listen to me. But hun, it wouldn’t be fair of me to not warn you. Jeongguk is not a passive guy. He can be dumb but if he’s into someone, he won’t hesitate to make a move. If he hasn’t made a move yet, it’s likely that he doesn’t see you that way.”

You feel horrible, but you have to warn her. Jeongguk is a go getter by nature and you’ve seen him not hesitating with women ever since you could remember. Yeah, he’s dumb but he’s not that dumb. You don’t want to see Mina get her hopes up and then have them crashing down because he’s not into her.

“I know,” she sighs. “I also know he’s still a bit hung up on his ex,” you shiver, annoyed at the very mention of that bitch. Mina would have been a much better choice than any of his exes, if you’re being honest. “But I need it over and done with, one way or another. I will tell him I’m into him and he’ll either reciprocate or he won’t. By the end of the night, I’ll either write a new chapter or close the book.”

“Then go for it,” you encourage her. “Get your closure. I’ll kick him out as soon as I can.”

“Thank you,” you let her hug you, even though she leaned on your injured leg a bit too much.

  Kicking Jeongguk out was more of a challenge than you had originally expected. Being an amazing friend that he is, he just didn’t want to leave you alone and miserable, not to mention unable to walk. You had to insist multiple times that you want to be alone, that you will not move around unless it was absolutely necessary and that you will call him if you need his help.

Once alone, you were left with a bad selection of movies and thoughts about the telenovela going on downstairs. Mina and Jeongguk would truly make a good couple, you think. But Jeongguk… he is hard to predict. You can only hope that whatever happens, it doesn’t end in tears.

Halfway through a pathetic Lifetime Christmas movie and two steps away from sleep, a knock on your door rouses you from your daze. “Come in,” you call.

You expected Jeongguk, maybe Mina, coming to inform you of what had happened. Maybe Namjoon, who would be worried sick about whether or not you’ll be able to do your job in the days to come. Hoseok even, coming to check on his friend. The last person you had expected to see was Kim Seokjin.

“What are you doing here?” you’re too surprised to sound defensive.

“Hi,” he lifts his hand up in an awkward wave. “I just… I wanted to check and see how you were doing. And bring you some food,” it’s only then that you notice that he does have a plate of food in his hands.

“Is it poisoned?” you ask, and although you were joking, it wouldn’t be the first time that Kim Seokjin added a bit extra into your food. Before, he’d go overboard on spices and serve the food to you with an angelic smile. After the events of the past few days, you wouldn’t be surprised if he raised the stakes.

“I did not poison your food, Y/N,” he tells you and you notice that there is no humor in his words. Normally, when you accuse him of doing something you definitely won’t like, he teases and pretends you’re right, whether or not he actually did it. Now, he is as serious as you are. Another instance of him showing you that he knows he took it too far. “It’s atrocious, though. I hate hotel food.”

“Ugh,” you scrunch your nose in disgust, almost tasting the overcooked scrambled eggs that you’ve had this morning. Last night’s dinner was passable but this is not a fine dining location, that’s for sure. “What did you bring? Does it have any-“

“Peanuts? No, I checked,” he pipes up. You are left dumbfounded for a moment, wondering how his memory is good enough to remember your allergy. “How do you go about being an executive chef if you can’t eat a certain kind of food though?” he asks as he approaches your bed, handing you the plate of food. Steak, asparagus and mashed potatoes. One look at the steak is enough for you to know it’s most certainly going to be too well done. Seokjin moves away from you, choosing to lean on the wall as he waits for your answer. Well, it looks like you’re on talking terms now.

“It’s not that bad,” you tell him as you start cutting the food. “Worst reaction I ever had was a strong rash. I carry an epipen with me at all times and if something that has peanuts in it needs tasting, Jeongguk gets a go at it.”

“You trust him a lot, don’t you?” he asks, making you stop mid-chew.

“Of course I do,” you mumble with your mouth full. “He’s my best friend and my sous chef. He’s been my second in command for years, I’d trust him with my life. Don’t you feel the same about Jimin?” you ask, wondering if the friendship between them doesn’t run as deep as yours with Jeongguk, because you weren’t kidding – the dude has his moments, but you would trust him with your life.

“Of course I do,” he frowns at you. “It’s just that you and Jeongguk look like… two piece of a whole.”

“We are, we’re Dumb and Dumber,” you laugh, turning back to the food – at least the asparagus was grilled nicely.

“Are the two of you like… a thing?”

If your mouth was full, you would have chocked, without a doubt. Looking up at Seokjin, you find him looking away from you, almost bashfully. First he brings you food. Then he starts a civil conversation. And now he’s questioning your relationship with Jeongguk?!

“No, we’re not. Never were. Well, other than two days sophomore year, that is. But we realized quickly one of us would be murdered in cold blood if we upgrade from the friendship level,” you rant, wondering how it’s possible that you’ve actually forgot about having Jeongguk’s dick inside of you, once upon a time. In your mind, it just goes to show how your friendship truly is superior. “Wait, why are you even asking me that?”

“I’m just… trying to be friendly.”

“I’m sorry, but you being talkative and friendly is making me uneasy,” you tell him the truth. The last time the two of you have had a civil conversation… it was so long ago, you don’t even remember it. Was it freshman or sophomore year? And even back then, you never went past casual chit chat. With everything that has been happening recently, Seokjin being friendly is a huge red flag.

Whether it was malicious or not, it has become second nature for you to expect the worst from him. And in a very strange way, that is actually quite sad. A person who could have been a great friend or even just a colleague you enjoy working with, ended up being someone who annoyed you. Yes, at the beginning, it was funny, charming in a weird way too. It didn’t take long for it to turn sour and with the events from last week hanging above you, as much as you want to see the good side of your longtime rival, you just… can’t.

“I understand that you don’t want to be friends or anything like that,” he shakes his head and looks down at the ground, almost as if he’s frustrated with you but is too kind to show it. That has nothing to do with kindness because in your eyes, he’s holding back because he know he has messed up, big time. If you ever did something to him that could be considered mean, which you did not, it simply pales in comparison to him flat out stealing your recipe. “If I apologize as Seokjin to Y/N, you won’t listen,” it feels as if he’s talking to himself as he continues to avoid looking your way. “The only option I have is to apologize as a chef to another chef. You have every right to be angry with me. The recipe was not different enough for it to be considered my own creation. Had I known it would end up in the review, I never would have done it. But even if it did not, I shouldn’t have done it. And whether you can accept it or not, I truly am sorry.”

You don’t know him well enough to be certain whether his words are true or not, but he looks as if he is truly sorry. And while that definitely counts for something, it’s not enough, not really.

“I forgive you,” you sigh, choosing to move one lone asparagus around your plate instead of looking his way. “As long as it never happens again, I am willing to put it behind us. But that doesn’t change the humiliation I felt when I read that review,” finally, you muster the courage to look up at him, just in time to catch him swallowing a lump. “I can accept that you had no ill intent, but I have never felt more humiliated than I did the day that I read about someone else making my dish better than I did. And that’s not your fault. You’re a brilliant chef. That’s entirely on me.”

“Y/N, you know you’re an amazing chef, you know that…”

“I know,” you interrupt him, not exactly wanting to listen to him praising you. “I know I’m good. I don’t need your reassurance to be aware of that, but thank you anyways. I accept your apology and I’m willing to be cordial to you, if you can do the same thing. That being said… we’re not friends, Seokjin. We never were, you’ve made sure of that a long time ago.”

He looks dejected, and for a second, you feel like a bitch. You feel bad for not picking your words carefully, you feel bad that you’re the cause of the sad smile he offers you. The guilt doesn’t stay long, because as soon as you feel it, you remember the way you felt when you read that review. As much as you can forgive, your ego and self-respect will not let you forget.

“That’s okay,” he tells you, despite actually looking sad. It leaves you baffled because you can’t recall, not for the life of you, a time where he ever offered a friendly word or a helping hand. You know there were moments, you’re sure of it, but no matter how hard to try, none of them comes to mind. “I’m fine with it being a truce and not a friendship.”

“Okay,” you nod, wondering if you’ve ever felt this awkward in your entire life. There’s a fine line between being cold and plain rude and you feel as if you’ve walked very close to the wrong side of it. “Thank you for the food, that was very nice of you,” you add, wanting to at least appreciate the gesture.

“Don’t mention it. Have a good night, Y/N,” he says, giving you one final, small smile before turning around and heading towards the door. His hand is already on the doorknob when you speak up.

“Hey, I have a question,” it’s almost as if you had no control over the words that left your mouth. It’s too late to take them back now, because he turned around and is looking at you curiously. “Why?” you ask, feeling a complete idiot with asking him something so damn vague.

“Why did I make that dish?” he asks in confusion.

“No,” you shake your head, making an effort to sit up straighter, knowing you’ll be able to see him better from this angle, seeing as he’s still standing in the hallway. “You made the dish because it’s a damn good dish,” you say through a chuckle, feeling a little bit better about yourself when you see him grin and shake his head at your comment. “I’m just wondering how it got to this level of animosity between us. I can’t pinpoint when it started but at some point you took the regular teasing and jokes and just made it… too much. And I don’t really understand why.”

You normally didn’t think about it. You have a life, a job, a whole load of problems and your friends’ problems to take care of. You don’t spend your days wondering why Kim Seokjin could be such an ass sometimes. Now you are. Now, when you’re stuck here on the bed, unable to move because of your damn leg, you have more than enough time to wonder about his behavior. And with him being in your company, it’s easy to ask.

You’ve never seen Seokjin act this humble, shy even. Never before in your life, not even during the peaceful period between the two of you. You watch in amazement as his ears go red, him looking away from you and acting ashamed about you calling him out like this. You’re honestly baffled.

“I guess I just wanted to make you laugh.”

You’re too surprised to even come up with an adequate response. The middle school level pranks that turned into a full blow rivalry and competitiveness during your final years of school only to fully develop to straight up animosity in recent months? Because he wanted to make you laugh?

“Are you serious?” you ask, unsure if you should be angry or just stay confused. It makes zero sense.

“Sadly, I am,” he lets out a humorless chuckle. “I gotta get going. Enjoy your dinner, Y/N. Hope you recover fast,” he tells you and leaves without giving you a chance to say goodbye, although you’re not sure you’d been able to even say a single word. Staring at the wall in front of you, you are lost in thought when your door snaps open. Startled, you jump up, only to sigh in relief when you see it is Jeongguk.

“Did I hallucinate the whole thing or did Seokjin leave your room like a moment ago?”

“Nah, you didn’t,” you answer, still confused about the whole ordeal. “He brought me dinner.”

“You serious?” Jeongguk laughs as he plops down on the other side of your king size bed. “Your leg good?” he asks and you just nod, focusing back on moving around the sad little asparagus on your plate. “I guess tonight is just full of surprises. First Mina corners me to tell me she likes me, now Seokjin’s being nice… I swear there’s something in the water here.”

“Mina told you she likes you?” you ask, taking an opportunity to change the topic to something that isn’t about you. He nods, moving in to steal a piece of meat you’d cut up earlier. “What’d you say?”

“That I’m flattered but not interested,” he responds. Well, damn it. You can only hope Mina sticks to the mindset she had earlier: it doesn’t matter what the answer is, as long as her dilemma is over. “Don’t worry, I was very kind. She’s a friend for crying out loud, I’d never hurt her,” he adds, noticing the look of worry on your face.

“No, I know that,” you sigh, finally giving up on the food completely and leaning over to place the plate on your bedside table. “Why’d you say no? She’s a great girl. Smart, pretty, nice and hot. Full package.”

“She’s also a coworker,” he raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t shit where you eat. I’ll never have anything with someone I work with, I promise you that. Plus, I don’t feel that way. I adore the girl but not like that.”

“No, I get it,” you nod. “It’s better that you were honest with her. It’ll hurt like a bitch, seeing as she’s been hung up on you for a while. But it’s way better than dragging her along.”

“You knew?” he gasps at you.

“Of course I knew,” you roll your eyes, deciding to kick him in the shin with your healthy leg. He whined, even though you didn’t kick him hard at all. “I think everyone knew except you. She was heart eyes around you, 24/7.”

“Well, damn,” he sighs. “If I had known I would have said something to her, to stop her for wasting time on me… I guess it is what it is… So, what did Seokjin want, other than to feed you?”

“Feed me?” you snort. “At least someone remembered to bring me food, thank you very much”

“I was gonna,” he pouts at you.

“Sure you were,” you ignore his whines. “He wanted to apologize for the recipe theft. And I did forgive him for it. I’m still pissed and I’ll probably be pissed for a long while but it’s not going to change anything, is it? I’ll just drown in negativity and that review will still be there.”

“True. But it’s nice of him to apologize. Maybe even too nice,” he adds, suddenly frowning in suspicion.

“Oh god, you’re not going to believe what he told me,” you laugh, going back to the end of your awkward conversation with Seokjin. “I asked him why he did the things he did over the past years and his response was that he wanted to make me laugh.”

“To make you laugh?” Jeongguk asks with his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. I mean, I did laugh at the beginning, it was funny at first. Then it just… spiraled.”

“He wants to fuck you.”

“No,” you snort out, but the moment you see your best friend with his eyebrows raised, giving you a knowing look, you frown. “You think this was his version of ‘I like you so I’ll pull on your pigtails’?”

“I didn’t before but now I do,” he tells you with a shrug. “Honestly, that explains half the shit he did. If he’s not lying about doing it to make you laugh, he definitely has the hots for you. At least he did, back in school. That would also explain why Jimin teases him about you even when you can hear him.”

“You do have a point,” you mumble, remembering every damn time Jimin suggested that the two of you should fuck to solve your problems. Jimin is one of his closest friends, it’s not a stretch to think he knows something you don’t. “It sounds incredibly immature but also very Seokjin.”

“I know,” Jeongguk laughs. “You could recognize Mina’s behavior, I can recognize his. I’m honestly amazed that I did not figure it out sooner… I knew that it was an option but he never really gave me solid proof that my hunch isn’t wrong.”

“But it’s weird, isn’t it?” you ask, frowning at the thought. “Seokjin liking me? The two of us together?”

“Why would it be weird?” Jeongguk shrugs, as carefree as always. “He’s hot, you’re hot. You got along well before he pulled out his immature flirting tactics. Jimin might be onto something, with the two of you. Maybe you do need to fuck it out of your system,” he repeats the same words Jimin had used only a few days ago. Back then, it pissed you off. Now, they just confuse you.

“The guys hot, but his personality is shit,” you shake your head. “Not to mention that he failed to put two and two together when he did not make me laugh with the shit he pulled. Maybe he wanted something then but it’s too late for entertaining that option now.”

“If you say so,” your best friend laughs. “But if he’s suddenly acting this nice, maybe he wants to show you a side of him you might actually want to see.”

“You watch way too many romcoms.”

“And you don’t watch them enough,” he counters. “As smart as you are for some shit, you sometimes truly don’t see beyond what’s already in front of you. You’ll see it tomorrow. Now that it’s directly in front of you, you’ll start to realize that the dude just didn’t know how to flirt. Anyways, are you gonna eat your dinner or can I dig in?” he asks, looking at the plate of already cold food.

The man is an endless pit. “Knock yourself out,” you mumble, too last in your own thoughts.

Is this all your imagination or did Jeongguk have a point? If all he wanted was to try and flirt with you, Kim Seokjin is… dumb as fuck.

A/N: Hope you like it! Currently writing Part 3! Let me know what you guys think! 

#jin smut #bts smut #jin scenario #bts scenario #jin x reader #jin x you #jin x y/n #jin au #bts au #jin fanfic #jin fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jin writing #glitter-kookiedough #glitterkookiedough

[miss-tc-nova]

Shared Ailments - Sora x Reader

Okay, I could probably do this better, but I’m brain dead and got other things to do. I was inspired to write something after listening to Yuukei Yesterday but figured the best fit was Sora, which I don’t normally write for but tada! Enjoy. 

Music Inspiration: Yuukei Yesterday cover by Jubyhonic

~~~~~

              The sun beats down on the defenseless, little Destiny Islands. Citizens are subject to the glaring sunrays but have come to adapt to their harsh heat. I’ve only been here a few years and even I’ve become somewhat accustom to the tropical temperature but I will blatantly state that I detest the sunlight: it’s blinding and burning and ruthless. I’d rather spend my time inside, perfectly content in my own company.

              Today offers no relief from the typical threat of sunburn. I only just left school and my body is already starting to feel sticky with sweat. My feet swiftly carry me down the sidewalk towards my home, eager to get someplace cool.

              Just as I round a corner, something heavy slams into me. The force throws me to the ground before subsequently squishing me. Pain grates across my arm but I can’t even gripe about it because my winded lungs are busy with a coughing fit.

              “Sorry! Are you okay?!”

              Still hacking away, I open my eyes to see the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Despite his concern, the brunette doesn’t seem to think his full weight on top of me is a problem and the proximity sends fire surging up my spine.

              “Sora! Get off!” someone else demands.

              “Right! Sorry! Let me help you!”

              Relieving me from his mass, the boy hops up. He not-so-carefully takes my arm and pulls me off the ground. Hissing at the sting, I immediately rip out of his grasp. It’s not gushing, but the concrete certainly shredded my skin.

              “Look what you did,” a third voice scolds, the girl standing behind him.

              In this trio, I only know of Riku—he’s my neighbor. However, since I moved here a few years ago, I’ve only seen these three in passing; they seem to disappear for months, sometimes years, at a time before randomly showing back up. I’ve run into Riku a few times, but we didn’t really interact which was fine by me. From what I have seen of his personality, it seemed he wouldn’t be a bother at all, unlike the brunette: Sora.

              Sora apologizes again. “I’m sorry. Here, let me help.”

              I flinch away from him. “Get away from me!”

              “I can help!”

              “I don’t need your help,” I spit. “I need you to get away from me.”

              “But I can fix it!” Somehow, those big blue eyes get even bigger and something about that look disconnects my brain from my mouth. “Please?”

              Whatever he’s done to destroy my defense prevents a response, which brings a giddy grin to his face. The next thing I know, I’m being dragged in a different direction. The entire time, Sora radiates happiness like the sun even though his plans are now to help someone he injured.

              I’m still a little hazy on what happened from there. We ended up at Sora’s house, sitting around his living room. I thought he was going to get a first aid kit or something, but he just held my arm. I would’ve jerked away, except a gentle glow seeped from beneath his fingers, distracting me long enough to lull me back into the tedious discussion. When he finally let go, my jaw dropped. There was nothing left behind—no scrape, no scabs, nothing but unmarred skin. It had me stunned and questioning the normalcy of these people, especially Sora. He was able to overcome every habit cultivated to maintain my peace and privacy. I don’t know if it had to do with the stuff he used on my arm—or if that light was some sort of virus or something—but my sharp tongue could not get through his lightheartedness. Still, I was desperate for an escape so I dropped it and left, briefly mentioning that I hoped to never run into him again.

              But I did.

              Somehow, Riku conned me into hanging out with him—what he failed to mention was that Sora and Kairi would be joining us. I figured it was worth my while to be on neighborly terms with the guy next door, whether it be for favors, friendship, or emergencies, so I thought there wouldn’t be any trouble. Well, trouble was his middle name and he showed up just five minutes after I did.

              Unfortunately, that one accepted hang out apparently gave them the okay to bring me along on all their random shenanigans. They would ambush me after school or even straight up kidnap me from my front door. They were harmless inconveniences, so I endured them, but they repeatedly ignored my every attempt to sneak away or shut down another get together. Nothing I did stopped them from showing up later to abduct me again.

              Admittedly, Riku and Kairi are nice people that I could get along with pretty easily. Sora—Sora is like the sun; he’s so much for one introvert to deal with. He’s so peppy and energetic, even when he’s being lazy. Sure, that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but I just can’t deal with that for so long.

              To add to the exhaustion, every time I see that guy it’s like my body is trying to shut down. My heart shudders while I start to overheat and I can’t think straight. Sometimes I can barely get a word out, let alone against him. He must be using more of that weird magic or something to make me sick. I’ve considered talking to the other two about it, but as soon as Sora’s gone, I’m fine so I haven’t pressed for any answers yet.

              Today is Saturday. I’ve been holed up inside since I woke up, expecting to have the perfect, peaceful day. All my homework is already done, I don’t have any chores except for making food, and I’ve already collected everything I need to enjoy my free day. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.

              There’s a knock at the door. I don’t like that knock; I wasn’t expecting anyone today. For a moment, I simply stare at the door, contemplating whether or not I should answer it.

              What if it’s an emergency?

              A hand slaps against my forehead for such a stupid thought; now I can’t just let it go. Grumbling, I stalk towards the door to see who’s intruding on my respite.

              Immediately, I’m greeted with his beaming face. “Morning!”

              The door slams shut.

              Fuck.

              In that short second, my heart stopped and I can feel the blood rushing to my ears.

              “Ah c’mon!” he calls. “You didn’t even hear what we wanted!”

              “I don’t care what you want!” I shout, thankful I’m not arguing face-to-face with him or I’d never win. “Go away!”

              “We know you’re not doing anything today,” Kairi says.

              “Exactly! Nothing! And you can’t make me!”

              Riku’s with them. “C’mon. We need your help.”

              “No!”

              I find it suspicious when there’s a delay in their coercion but all hope of them abandoning their harassment is lost when I hear Sora’s voice faint on the other side.

              “Really? You think that’ll work?”

              I press my ear to the door.

              “Of course,” Kairi replies; there’s something in her tone that sends shivers down my spine.

              Riku’s got that same note in his voice. “Do you want them to come or not?”

              “Yeah, but they already said no.” The brunette is the odd-man-out, sounding more confused than anything.

              “Just do it,” orders the girl.

              Sora sighs. This time, loud enough that it must be intended for me, he begs, “Please?”

              It must be some magic spell because, without first consulting my brain, my arm reaches out to tear the door open. Sora seems just as surprised as I feel, however, when I realize what’s happened, I throw a glare to the smirking cohorts behind him.

              “What do you want?” I snap, grateful that this unforeseen circumstance hasn’t yet destroyed my conscience.

              This is where it starts to deteriorate. With all that sunshine back in full force, Sora says, “We’re gonna do some repairs on the stuff on the other island and we wanted to know if you’d help. You don’t have to do any of the hard stuff.”

              A hand over my eyes feigns frustration; in reality, it’s there to shield me from his cheeriness.

              “I just wanted to relax and be lazy today,” I groan.

              Somehow, Kairi shimmies past me to nudge me out the door. “You can relax while you keep us company.”

              “Uh, hey!”

              She drops a pair of my shoes at my feet and closes my front door.

              “And hold the nails,” Riku insists, pushing a bucket of metal into my hands.

              “I hate all of you,” I growl as the pair continues ushering me out of my yard.

              Sora jumps ahead, looking back at me joyfully. “It’s gonna be fun. But thanks for coming; we really appreciate it.”

              That happy face—those dazzling eyes, that beautiful smile—is the spell he holds over me; it eradicates all coherent thoughts and causes my stomach to squirm.

              Unable to lash out, I drop my gaze. “It’s fine.”

              So my plans are effectively destroyed. Once we arrive, the trio gets to work just as they said, fixing up some of the old structures scattered about the place—just a few worn planks here and there. We chatter along as the work goes by and I diligently do my job of providing nails. It’s hot and I’d still prefer to be at home right now, but it’s not the worst Saturday of my life.

              I’m not exactly sure when, but Riku and Kairi abandon Sora and I on the bridge in favor of the docks. Riku took with him a handful of nails, essentially condemning me to alone time with Sora. So I sit around, passing nails out, while he attempts to talk my ear off. And no matter what quips or insults I throw at him, he just goes on as if I hadn’t said anything. It’s like he’s impervious—or deaf. Still, no matter how many times I tell him to shut up, I can’t block out a single thing he says. He’s got my undivided attention whether I want to give it or not.

              He beats on the board with his hammer. “But I gotta say, being a pirate was more fun than being a mermaid…man…merman?”

              Exasperated, I reply, “Sora, if you’re gonna lie to me, you could at least make it believable.”

              “But I’m not lying,” he says with a childish pout.

              I pass another nail into his open palm. “Really? Pirates? Mermaids? Monsters?! There’s no way you turned into all these crazy things.”

              “I did!” he insists, lining the nail. “But you can’t tell anyone.”

              “And have them think I’m crazy too? No thanks,” I snark, looking away. Curiosity gets the better of me. “But why not?”

              “It’s this whole crazy world order thing. We’re not supposed to tell people about other worlds or it might freak ‘em out,” he casually says as he works.

              “Then why did you tell me?”

              Ocean eyes lift to ensnare my heart. With a smile more blinding than the sun, he answers, “Because you seem like someone I can trust.”

              That’s it: I’m done. Panic takes over while I fight the urge to vomit beneath this woozy feeling. That inexplicable fever begins to run rampant again.

              Sora’s high spirits falter. “Are you okay?”

              Dropping the bucket, I stand and blurt out, “I’mgoinghome.”

              “What?”

              “I can’t do this anymore!” I start for the hut, only for a hand to take my wrist.

              “Hey, what’s wrong?”

              “Don’t touch me!” I snap, ripping my arm away. The trepidation prevents me from answering his reasonable questions.

              “Wha…Did I say something?”

              There is no rational answer. “Leave me alone!”

              He slips around to block my path, that worry on his face aggravating my ailment. “Are you okay?”

              “Get out of my way!” I demand, my heart thumping so violently I’m sure even he can hear it. “I’m going home!”

              “But, why?”

              “BECAUSE OF YOU!”

              The second I realize what I’ve said, my hand slaps over my mouth. Sora’s surprise turns to horror and hurt. All the disorders in me disappear, replaced with utter dread—I royally screwed up.

              “Because…of me?”

              The words stockpile in my mouth, random ones falling out. “I-I…you…I can’t…”

              “Are you mad at me?” This is the first time Sora has ever taken anything I’ve said to heart. His heartbroken voice and kicked-puppy expression cause a vice in my chest.

              “N-No! I just…”

              “What did I do wrong?”

              “I DON’T KNOW!” I shout. “I don’t know what you did but every time you’re around I can’t function! I’m burning up! I always feel like I’m gonna puke! My brain doesn’t work right and I say stupid things! It feels like someone’s squeezing my heart! I don’t know what you’re doing but it’s freaking me out!”

              The sadness I instilled in Sora melts but gives me no comfort. It turns into some sort of revelation.

              “You feel it too?”

              I hesitate. “What?”

              Looking away, he scratches at the back of his head. “Every time I’m near you, I feel kinda sick, like I’m gonna throw up. I feel warmer, I always forget what I’m doing, and I know I talk a lot but, with you, I can’t stop talking—I even tell you things I shouldn’t. Mostly, it feels like my heart’s gonna burst. I really thought I was crazy or something but if you feel it too, maybe I’m not.”

              All I can do is stare; he describes it differently, but the basics seem to be there: fever, mild nausea, brain failure, stupid mouth, and a bewildering heart. I would almost consider this some minor illness, but I can’t think of a single illness that muddles thoughts and runs a mouth the way I have.

              “But you know,” Sora adds, “it’s also hard to stop staring when I’m with you. And…I can’t stop smiling.” Those are different but I still can’t make sense of any of it. On the other hand, for Sora, it seems like he’s following some train of thought. “It’s actually not that bad. I like seeing you and I like talking to you, even when you nag me. I really like hanging out with you.”

              He’s reached an epiphany, the light in his head shining in his eyes.

              So happy, yet so gentle, Sora says, “I like you.”

              “You…like me?” I whisper, trying to wrap my head around his diagnosis. “You feel it too…and you like me?”

              “Yeah.”

              The concept rolls in my conscience, taking in each symptom and carefully fitting it against Sora’s conclusion. They all align perfectly. Somehow, someway, I fell for this dork of a man and was just too much of a coward to confront it.

              “Oh no,” I complain, hiding behind my fingers. “I’m such an idiot.”

              “What’s wrong?” His concern is back.

              Looking him in the eye was difficult to being with; it’s damn near unbearable now. The sun is no match against the blood in my veins. Arms wrap around me to contain the anxiety building inside. It feels like an eternity before I manage to voice my problem.

              “I…like you too.”

              The sunshine that he radiates feels different. There’s nothing different about it by any means, but it represents something different now. It’s not the burning, overbearing brightness that I’ve been trying to avoid; it’s warm and welcoming. It’s still uncomfortable as hell, I still want to vomit, but with a tweak of perspective, it’s tolerable—maybe even enjoyable.

              “You do?” he asks hopefully.

              I can’t recall having ever smiled like this. “Yeah.”

              Sora’s expression blanks, a cherry red blooming across his face.

              “Sora?”

              Without warning, he grips my shoulders and pulls me into a tight embrace.

              “You have the most amazing smile,” he murmurs.

              My heart skips and I might be on fire but I don’t want to run away this time. So I slip my arms around his neck and hide my face in his shoulder.

              “You goof,” I hum into his shirt.

              Then I see them, across the sand, sitting on the docks, with the smuggest grins on their faces. The thought strikes me like a bolt of lightning—they knew. Those two assholes knew everything this entire time and planned this whole thing. As I glare, a pair of fingers wave at them behind the brunette’s back, receiving sneaky snickers in response.

              Sora leans back. “You okay?”

              I put on a quick smile—he doesn’t need to know. “I’m great.”

              A quick peck ambushes my cheek, reigniting the flustering awkwardness.

              “Yeah you are.”

#sora #kh sora #sora x reader #gender neutral reader