#leave me alone words are sometimes gibberish to me okay!!!!!!!!

[donaweasley]

What If

Pairing: Loki x Fem! Avenger! Reader

Plot:

A silly game of “What-Ifs” between two friends eventually leads to the realisation that the future, if spent together, may not be as bleak as they had anticipated it to be. A dialogue-based best friends-to-lovers cliché.

Warnings: Relationship angst, too many dialogues, long read, happy ending!!!

Read time: ~28 mins

Author's Note:

It's a long read with far more dialogues than can be deemed healthy. The reason is, I didn't want their arc to feel rushed. It had to be cooked slow. Another reason is that, I can't help hearing my characters, and it triggers a flood of dialogues! I'm trying to work on controlling it. 😬 Hope you enjoy!

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

“C’mon! You’re breaking the rules now,” Loki casually waved his hand at his best friend.

“I’m not. There’s nothing to answer really,” (Y/N) replied with a shrug.

“There must be something on your mind!”

She pretended to think for a second, and shook her head.

---------------------

It was a usual night in the compound. It was just another night when one of these two friends had called the other in the middle of the night for some midnight snack. It was just another of those happy times when they had tiptoed into the kitchen like thieves because...no, no one would mind some missing nachos or ice creams, but because it was fun!

It wasn’t easy for Loki to open up to someone, let alone to allow the other person in. Neither was it easy for (Y/N) to trust somebody, given her past, especially when that somebody was infamous for betraying almost everyone, at every step, not to mention his attempts at ruling Earth and causing massacre.

But time is a healer and a magician.

And here they were now, looking at the moon-washed night life through the west-facing glass wall, and playing a game of “what-ifs”. One would say that it was silly and immature; some would even call their talks gibberish. But when the night was so relaxed and carefree, why wouldn’t they be?

The pale yellow orb hovering above the western horizon cast a soft ray of light through the glass wall. Oblivious to its movements across the room, Loki and (Y/N) were wrapped in a thin blanket on a couch, their feet resting on two separate pouffes.

It had all started with a silly question, something like, “What if you weren’t stuck in this building tonight?”, or something along those lines; they didn’t even remember correctly anymore.

One question led to the other, and soon they found themselves tangled in a game of questions that would have been enough to create an alternate reality. But eventually, they found themselves, not answering with imaginary scenarios, but debating over one particular question:

“What if you find the love of your life tomorrow?”

This question was posed by Loki, rather theatrically, amidst the many others that had tossed different possibilities of their near future. And it was here that (Y/N) refused to play along anymore because, as she stated, it was “the most silly question ever”.

---------------------

“So, you claim that my question is even worse than your ‘What if you were a Jotun cat’? What kind of a question is that anyway?” Loki teased.

“Of course, it is. Undoubtedly!” With one wave of her hand, (Y/N) dismissed his appeal.

“And how is that even logical, may I know?”

“C’mon, this entire game is out of the boundaries of logic,” she claimed. “Your behaviour is like that of a cat. Don’t make that face; it brings you closer to being a cat. And...a Jotun cat sounds cool!”

Loki sighed. “And my question is ridiculous! If the game is beyond all reason, then...” he shrugged, “say something...weird, and move on!”

“Fine! If I-if... If I meet the love of my life tomorrow,...I’ll stab him. Or her. Or them. I don’t even know.” She huffed.

“Ouch!” Loki made a face, ”Didn’t see that coming. I would enjoy the stabbing part though. Thank the Norns, you never declared your feelings for me!”

She looked at him sideways with a stern face. Loki noticed the irritation simmering just beneath her skin, ready to burst out at the next prodding.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on her arm, “what happened? Was it something I said?”

She turned her face away. But Loki wasn’t giving up that easily.

“(Y/N),” he gently tugged at her arm, “look at me.”

When she finally turned towards him, he held her by the shoulders just to make sure that she couldn’t move away again.

“Now, you’ll tell me everything. What happened?” He inquired again. “I thought you were having fun.”

“It’s nothing Loki, it’s just that...you know I don’t like discussing my non-existent love-life. It’s...it kind of makes me...sad sometimes. Especially in a setting like this!” She waved her hands at her surroundings. “I mean, look at it, a full moon, a silent night, blankets and… It just leaves me with this reminder that I’ll be alone all my bloody life!”

Loki’s hands slowly retracted from her form and folded themselves on his chest. And just like that, they both found themselves staring out of the window.

“I’m sorry,” Loki’s voice audibly reflected the guilt that had formed within, “I never intended to...”

“No, you shouldn’t be. It’s...I overreacted. I’m sorry, Loki. I just ruined the mood. Shit! And it’s not my hormones, mind you!”

“I know,” Loki chuckled. “And you did not ruin anything. It’s natural to feel, isn’t it?”

She looked at him with a raised brow, “Somebody’s learning!”

“Somebody’s got a good teacher,” he smiled.

“Aww!! I love it when you acknowledge my awesomeness!” She wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in closer, and pinched his cheek.

“Ugh! Let go of me! Let...go!!”

The room was filled with (Y/N)’s cackles and Loki’s threats as he wriggled out of her grip.

“Do that one more time, and I’ll stab you!”

But it wasn’t enough to stop her chortles.

“Would you now?” she teased, and raised her hands again in a faux attempt at squeezing his cheeks.

He swatted them away.

“Stop it!” He warned again, only to emanate snorts from her.

But the next second, his voice changed into a compassionate one, “Why do you think you’ll be alone all your life? How old are you anyway? 80? 90? Isn’t that supposed to be old in human years?”

Once again her cheerful mood fled behind a thick curtain of annoyance. But this time she did not look away. She simply rolled her eyes, and pulled her legs from the pouffe to sit cross-legged, and shifted to face him.

“No, I’m not that old. But why are you suddenly so interested in this topic?”

“Because suddenly, you seem to have found an interest in getting annoyed.”

“Then don’t annoy me.”

“Not in my nature, I’m afraid.”

She couldn’t decide whether to hit him or laugh at him.

“Loki-” She curled her fists and shut her eyes.

“I’m listening, darling,” he smirked.

Of course, she knew how stubborn Loki could be!

Who else would know that better than me?

“Okay,” she placed her palms flat on her thighs, “the thing is...I can never make a relationship last more than two years. I waste my time trying to establish a...a proper, long-lasting relationship - something permanent - and end up with a heartbreak. Every. Fucking. Time. I’ve given up. I’ve had enough! Now, even if anyone makes a move, or if I’m interested in someone, I just remind myself that it’s not gonna work! I just don’t put any effort anymore.”

Loki hummed in response; his eyes were focused on her as if he was trying to decipher a mystery.

“And,” she continued, “given my current ‘job’,” she air-quoted the word, “I’m more sure than ever that no one will last more than two months now!”

Once she voiced the storm in her head, her eyes softened and she looked down at her lap. Through hooded eyes, she stole a guilty, fleeting glance at her friend, who seemed to be musing about something really serious. His eyes were strained on the carpet, while his chin rested on a fisted hand balancing itself on his thigh.

For a long moment neither said anything. Only the distant buzz of the sleepless city floated through the air and filled the room.

It was Loki who disrupted the silence with a long and heavy sigh.

“I knew that Midgardian men were impatient, narcissistic-”

“Look who’s talking,” she smirked as she interrupted him.

He gave her a quick deadpanned stare before resuming, “-imbeciles, but I was beginning to think that they have good tastes in women. It’s disappointing, not surprising though, that they have proven me wrong.”

A small laugh almost made its way to its escape, but she pushed it back. “You think so?” She quipped.

He shrugged, “From what you’ve said, there is no reason to think otherwise.”

She sat a little straighter. “Really? Do go on!”

Loki immediately noticed the effect that he had planned for. Without giving away the joy of his small triumph, he continued, “Indeed! Look at you! You’re an amazing woman! You’re brave, witty, independent...smart...excellent with knives! And that’s my favourite thing about you, by the way. ”

Feigning offence, she exclaimed, “And I thought your favourite thing about me was that I tolerate all your tantrums, and keep up with your shenanigans.”

“I don’t throw tantrums, darling,” he pushed the accusation away with his silky tone, “and don’t tell me that you take no pleasure in the havoc that we wreck together.”

At this, she could no longer suppress the evil grin that spread across her face, “I do love a bit of chaos. It’s fun.”

“To think of it,” Loki added excitedly, “had you been on Asgard, you might have been the Goddess of Chaos!”

“Oh! Thank you!” She replied with a dramatic wave of her hands.

Both laughed at the way their words were unfolding.

“Thank you, Loki,” (Y/N) said after their little whirlwind of laughter had calmed down, “I guess I needed to hear something nice about myself. It’s been a long, long time since I heard it.”

“I meant every word of it,” he replied in a solemn tone that made something flutter in her chest.

Was it gratitude? Was it joy? Was it love for her best friend?

It was hard to tell. It seemed to be everything at once.

She simply smiled at him. “Even the ‘Goddess of Chaos’ part?”

“Especially that part,” he asserted, and she laughed.

“You’re the best, Loki!” She gave him a half hug.

“That, I definitely am. But you’re not too shabby yourself. And you should never ever be sad for someone else’s failure.”

“Alright, I get what you’re trying to do here,” she landed a playful punch to his shoulder. “I’m fine! Really! I just got a little carried away.”

“No, I really mean it,” he tried to assure her. “You are one of the most magnificent women I have known! And mind you, I’m rather picky in these cases.”

She laughed, “Of course, I’d know that! ... Loki, it’s...it’s alright. Some people just don’t have it in them to sustain relationships no matter how wonderful they are. I’m okay with it.”

“Come on! A narcissistic God is showering you with genuine compliments! And you’re still not convinced that it’s not your fault but of all those who failed to keep up with you?”

She tried another attempt at convincing him, “It works both ways.”

“Norns! I can’t believe you’re so foolish!”

“Enlighten me, please,” she drawled.

“I believe I have already established the fact that you are phenomenal.”

When she giggled and nodded, he carried on.

“Good. Now, your job, as you put it, shouldn’t be a hindrance in your relationship. You’re doing the marvellous job of being a guardian to thousands of people. People you don’t even know! How many would put their necks out there to do it?”

“C’mon, Loki, when duty calls, you have to leave everything behind and just go! Who’d tolerate that for days? They will snap one day.”

“I’d never do that!” Realizing his mistake, he quickly corrected himself, “What I mean is, had I been in their place, I’d have never done that.”

“That’s because you’re on the team,” she argued. “So, it’s normal to you.”

“No, it’s not because I’m on the team. I’d-” He sighed. “Fine, why don’t you try finding someone from this field? Stark’s parties are a great place to hunt humans.”

“‘Hunt humans’?” She snorted, “I like the sound of that. Nay, haven’t found anyone. Besides, mixing professional and personal life can be fatal. You never know when your personal life might get jeopardised because of a mission gone wrong. Y’know, the usual blame-game and all. I hate all that!”

Loki brooded over her words for a few seconds before asking, “I don’t get it. Why would it be fatal? I mean, look at us,” he gestured in between them. “We have a perfect understanding. We’d never blame the other for any petty thing. Or-or let it affect our friendship.”

“That’s because we have the perfect understanding, Loki! You said it yourself. It’s a rare thing that we have. And I can’t expect it to be with anyone else. They’re not you, Loki.”

“They’re not us,” he corrected her.

Joy seeped through his senses as he watched her face brighten up at his words.

With a nod, she continued, “You see, all that spark, excitement, promises - these sound really great at the beginning. As time passes, as the real world pushes in, love moves to the backseat. Love is not enough. There comes a time when you have to balance everything together, and love becomes one of those things. It becomes a chore.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow you,” Loki stated with a frown. “That sounds so sad!”

“It is!”

“Well, it shouldn’t be! Loving you shouldn’t be a chore! Let’s say...hypothetically...if I’m in love with you, then you’d be my passion. And passions never become a duty, not even in the worst of times. Instead, they help us breathe when everything comes caving in. You’d be my...my moment of peace in a war. How could I not be tempted to embrace this beautiful moment?”

“Unfortunately, Loki, that’s not how it works. See, when you have a lot on your plate, say your job, your dreams, your daily life and all the pressure that comes with these, you’ll find less and less time for your loved one. Things get hectic and eventually frustrating. You won’t be able to keep that flame alive even if you want to. And one day, you’ll come to realize that you have distanced yourself from your moment, even if you never wanted to. But it’d be too late. There’d be no going back.”

“I’d never distance myself from you! I mean, from my moment. I’ve been a king, and I know how taxing royal duties can be. Sometimes, it seemed like a luxury to get even a minute to myself.”

“See? So, how could you have found time for me?”

“I would have, darling. Not plenty, but whatever little time I’d have gathered, I’d have made them memorable. For you. For us. And maybe we could have gone on long rides occasionally. Rekindle the old flames? Or-or we could have gone on visits to other realms...for political reasons, of course, but could have taken the opportunity to spend a small vacation with each other. What do you say?”

Painfully tempting images of a life that could have been floated in her eyes.

“And what if we came back to Earth, and I got involved in...say, a job that was all hectic and left me all frustrated, and with little time for you?” She shrugged.

With a sigh, Loki shifted to face her fully. “We will take care of each other, (Y/N). If one gets low, the other pulls both up. And I know that together, we can do anything! I believe in you more than I believe in myself.”

She smiled brightly as she acknowledged, “That is...that sounds doable, yes.”

“You’re special,” he placed a hand on her cheek, “and you need to be treated in the most special manner. One that befits my queen.”

A moment passed between them as they looked into each other's eyes, both seeing the same beautiful picture.

His queen!

My queen!!

Wait, what is he...?

Damn! What am I doing! What will she...!

Loki cleared his throat as he abruptly pulled his hand back to his side.

“I’m sorry, I...”

“No, it’s okay,” she cringed at the way the words squeaked out of her. Clearing her throat, she continued, “We were just giving examples.”

“Yes, just examples,” he agreed.

“It’s fine! I understand.”

“Great! It’d have been quite...awkward...otherwise.”

“Oh no! It’s...uh...totally fine. We’re best buddies!” She gave his arm a light punch.

“Right!” He nodded, and focused his gaze on the floor.

After taking a minute to calm his heart, he wore his witty persona back.

“See, having a relationship is not at all tough. All you need is a good partner. And I’ve proved myself right again! No, wait. There’s something you mortals do. It’s...uh...about throwing something...”

“Goblets? We don’t do that. It’s you-”

“No, not throwing, it’s about dropping something...after you have proven a point...”

“...Mic drop?” She chuckled.

His eyes lit up.

“Yes! ‘Mic drop’. So, as I was saying, all you need to have a happy and successful relationship is a good partner. Mic drop!” He concluded as he mimicked the action.

She sighed. “There’s just one tiny problem. I’d probably never find the right person. The ones that flirt with me, don’t understand me, and the ones that understand me have friendzoned me.”

“I’ve never friendzoned you,” Loki quickly replied with a frown. “J-Just clarifying...in case you were talking about me.”

“Of course, I’m talking about you, you big oaf!” She flicked his arm.

“Hey! You friendzoned me.”

“No…? It was you! Well, yeah, I never tried to flirt with you or anything but...anybody could see that you were being just my friend.”

“I can say the same about you,” Loki playfully accused.

“Whatever,” she shrugged.

A thought started playing in her mind. And a couple of seconds later, she decided to say it aloud, “I...umm...Just curious...y’know, don’t take it in any other way. Did you ever think of flirting with me?” She put forward each word very cautiously.

Loki furrowed his brows, and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, she warned him, “Be honest!”

Immediately, his confident attitude changed into a helpless one. “Yes, I did. Maybe once. Or twice. But that was all! I assure you!”

She could hardly contain the amusement that was bubbling inside.

“What’s so funny about it?” Loki asked with furrowed brows.

“Nothing,” she shook her head as she tried to hold back her laughter, “nothing at all. It’s,” and then she lost it, “I’m sorry! It’s funny! I don’t know why, I find it funny hearing from you!”

“Look who’s laughing!” He said wryly. “I could clearly hear your thoughts the first few days after I stepped into this structure. Every compliment that your little mind cooed at my divine persona. And may I dare say that not all of them were decent.”

Her hysterics were long forgotten as her face went red at the comment.

“How dare you invade my mind?” Her hand had balled into a fist, ready to hit his arm when he caught it.

“I didn’t invade it, darling. You were practically shouting inside that pretty head of yours. I could have heard it from the other side of the planet!”

“That was a long time ago,” she refused to meet his eyes. “I make better choices and better decisions now.”

“Do you?”

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it without uttering a syllable, and crossed her arms.

Loki nudged her with his elbow. “Hey, it’s fun to tease you. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“I hate you,” she peeked at him through the corner of her eye.

“What can I say,” Loki sighed. “Alright, if you say so.”

She smirked as she glanced at him sideways.

Loki cleared his throat in a not-so-subtle manner. “So, the next time Stark throws a party, I’ll find someone for you.”

Immediately, she face-palmed, and groaned, “No.”

“What?”

“Please drop this topic. And you’d probably find me a psychopath, anyway” She joked.

“That hurt!” Loki exclaimed with a hurt look masking his humour, “do you think so little of me? Can’t I find a proper partner for my best friend, my darling?”

“No, it didn’t hurt. Don’t fake it. I know you better than anyone.”

“No, you don’t. You-”

“I do. And...I’m fine, Loki” she reassured him, “being with myself, with the people here, being with you.” She gently bumped her knee into his.

“Will these be enough?” His tone had left the playfulness behind. “Will I be enough? For all your life?”

She shrugged, “I think so. You...stick with me all the time, you understand me, you...make me feel good. What more could I want to be happy?”

“You know what more you are missing. A friend can never touch the boundaries of what a lover can give you.”

“I don’t need a lover. Just be with me all my life, and I won’t need anyone else.”

He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I will. I promise.”

Her playful smile was back. “Thanks for all the pep talk, my dearest God. But turns out that I’m better off alone. Now can we please go back to the game? It’s my turn to ask you.”

“Alright,” he smiled back, “if you say so.”

“Stop saying that!” A defeated sigh left her. “You won’t be convinced, will you?”

“Probably not. Because I know that this will gnaw at you again a few days later. I know you’ll be sad again. And that I won’t allow on my watch.”

“God!”

“Right here, listening to you!” Loki quipped.

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, ”Damn you!” And proceeded to put forward a proper argument.

“The reason why I’m avoiding a new relationship is because I don’t want another heartache. I can’t handle breakups. That’s why I’m...”

When Loki didn’t make another attempt at dissuading her from her arguments, she added, “I just...try everything to avoid a heartbreak. Because when I get one, I lose control over myself.”

“Yes, I’ve seen. Once.”

“Then you must have noticed how vicious I become. Sarcasm drips from my mouth all the time, I say things that I shouldn’t, I...I hurt people. And in turn, I hurt myself. I yell at those who want nothing but good for me. But...”

“But being mean seems to be the only way to mask the pain,” he finished her line.

“It does, yes!”

She looked at him, and into his eyes that silently spoke of the pain that was resurfacing. She remembered something.

“You and I are so...alike!”

He nodded with a smile. “And maybe that is why we understand each other more than anyone ever could. … But we’re more than just being alike, if you think about it.”

She noticed how his voice gradually rose from its usual calmness to an excited tone, and his hands moved with his words.

Loki continued, “You point out my mistakes but don’t accuse me like everyone else does. You show me what’s right. And there’s this-this thing about you, which is so scary...the way you make me do all the things that you want. I-I mean, I am the God here! But you…a mortal...how can you have so much power over me?”

He sighed as his voice dropped to a compassionate tone, “You make me happy, (Y/N). You’ve taught me to forgive when I can, to forget what I can’t fix.”

“Don’t always do that,” she interrupted with a smirk.

His evil smile made a brief appearance before he resumed his warm note, “I like being with you. No...I love being with you! You make me feel good. You make me feel...I don’t know.... You make me feel…”

“Complete?”

“Yes!” He observed her, “You complete me.”

For yet another time, silence enveloped them. The only difference was that this time, it was comfortable. Even in their hushed moments, they could hear each other, know what the other wanted to say.

After a while of exchanging quiet stares, (Y/N) spoke, “All this time I believed, but now I know for myself, that you are indeed Silvertongue!”

Loki looked at his lap and laughed, but in the pale light of the setting moon, she noticed the pink that had crept up his ears and cheeks.

“I meant every word of what I said,” he reassured her once again that evening.

“I know, Loki.”

Loki watched her as she shifted to a kneeling position, and leaned towards him. He felt his face becoming hotter as she supported herself on his shoulder with one hand, and placed a soft kiss on his cheekbone.

As she settled back, her lips tingled with the memory of Loki’s skin on it.

They had been best friends, yes, but she had never allowed herself more than a quick hug because she knew that Loki wasn’t someone open to random touches. And she wanted to respect that. Always.

But this peck felt right. It felt necessary. And it felt...different.

What happened next wasn’t guided by logic anymore, but only by their senses.

Loki put his legs back on the pouffe, and scooted a little closer to (Y/N). Taking the cue, she shifted so that her leg was stretched out, and back on the pouffe - not on hers but his - and sat close to him. He arranged the blanket so that it covered them both again.

Another stretch of silence enveloped them. To them, the moment was beautiful. To Loki, who had never experienced anything similar before, it was precious. If he could stop time, he would have done it right then and there.

“Why haven’t you found anyone yet?” She asked him.

“Royalty has its disadvantages,” he replied without taking a moment to think.

She leaned back slightly to get a good look at his face, “Didn’t you ever find anyone from the royal...uh...what do you call it? Of royal blood?”

Loki laughed at her naivety. “Can’t say I didn’t. But none of them were the one. Besides, most people chose my handsome brother over me. And if anyone chose me, well, it was mostly because of my royal title. None of them were real.”

“That’s awful! I would never have done that to you! I’d have chosen you for the wonderful being that you are. But, I get it; happens on our planet, too.”

“Everywhere,” he asserted.

“So...who do you think is the one for you?”

He looked down at her face, which was mere inches away from his. For the first time in months of their friendship, he felt something swell inside his chest at the closeness.

“I still don’t know,” he whispered, “but I think the Norns might have started giving me clues.”

He didn’t need to explain, obviously. All the tension that had been building up throughout the night had placed them both on the same page.

Without thinking, Loki moved his wrist so that his palm was facing the ceiling. And instinctively, (Y/N) placed her hand in it, their fingers closing around each other.

"It's odd," she announced after a while.

"Indeed."

"It's weird. I mean, what were we even thinking!" She huffed, although she was still clutching his hand, as was he holding hers.

"Exactly what I was thinking. You and me?” Loki laughed nervously, “Come on!"

"Yeah!"

"Right".

Silence, their faithful companion for the night, visited them once again.

"Could it be? You and me?" Loki’s voice was a little more than a whisper, and bordered on the edge of confidence and doubt.

"Doesn't sound so bad. Not after all these... Talks?" She whispered back.

"Right!"

"Right."

And once again, they fell quiet.

The strangeness of the moment pushed them both into a whirlpool of thoughts. From acquaintances to partners to friends to best friends to...lovers?

Can this even be possible? What if it’s just a passing phase? What if everything goes back to normal tomorrow? Will we still be able to talk normally? But… This feels right. Just...right.

With a sigh, (Y/N) put her head on Loki’s shoulder.

"I don't want to rush into anything and ruin what we have," she confessed in a hushed tone, eyes staring into the night outside.

"Neither do I. You're the only one I have."

With a raised brow, she looked up at him.

"And Thor," he corrected himself with a small smile.

"Glad you remember him "

"Shut up.

Slowly, hesitantly, Loki put his free hand around her. Unsure of the appropriateness of the action, he kept his arm loosely hanging around her frame.

He waited for a while. Had Loki looked at her face, instead of looking straight ahead in fear, he would have noticed the small smile that had formed on her lips.

When she didn’t flinch or protest, he began to rest his arm properly but gently on her. He even went ahead and made the slightest possible effort to pull her closer to him.

The smile that had started forming on her now spread wide enough to turn into a grin. Its reflection was found on Loki’s face, too, who could finally muster the courage to look at her, although he was equally worried that she would be able to hear his heart trying to hammer its way out of his chest.

With every minute that passed, Loki became more baffled, for he couldn’t decide which moment he’d frame and hang on the wall of his heart as the most precious one.

"Are you feeling hot?" She asked without looking at him.

"A bit, yes. You, too?"

"Quite a bit, actually," she gulped.

"Is it normal?"

"I guess, yes. Totally! Had we been cool about it, it'd have meant that there's no spark between us. It’d have felt awkward, wrong."

"So, you agree that there's a spark between us?" He didn’t even attempt to hide the mischievous smirk that shone on his face.

"I had always suspected," she nodded.

"Hmm. When was the last time we went out for dinner?" He asked.

“Probably last month...or was it-”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up to look at him. She could barely put a lid on her excitement.

"Are you proposing to take me out on a date?"

"Well, if we are going to do this, then I'd like to court you properly."

She felt like she'd burst out of sheer excitement.

"If you'd agree to it, that is" Loki clarified.

Taking a large breath, she replied, "I'd love it."

The night was going better than either had expected. Who would have thought that a game of weird questions and a few confessions could change their lives!

(Y/N) put her head back on his shoulder, and let her body slump against him. He held her confidently this time.

“It still feels weird though,” she declared.

“It does, yes, but...maybe this is...right?” In a long time, Loki was hopeful about something, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away. No.

“I hope so.”

“Me, too.”

“Just so you know,” she sat up straight, “Thor is handsome, yes, but you are devilishly charming. You’re intelligent, well-read, witty, sarcastic, great at combat...uh...”

“Go on,” Loki smirked, earning a playful glare from her.

“You are,” she continued, “seductive! And who can resist a sorcerer who knows his way around everything!”

The evil smile that Loki had put away found its way back on his face. “As far as I remember, I did nothing to seduce you. I wonder what will happen if I try...”

“Shut up, Loki! You know I give away raw compliments. I didn’t really mean...I didn’t think...”

He laughed heartily at the furious way she was blushing.

“I was only pulling your leg. I had imagined you to be wise,” he clarified.

“I am! It’s just... I was...” She shook her head.

“So,” Loki resumed, “you think I’m devilishly charming?”

“Drop the topic, please!”

“You can’t resist my sorcery, ha?”

“Please change the topic! Forget what I said!!”

Loki laughed as he continued teasing her. It wasn’t going to be an easy ride, she realized, with the God of Mischief, but it was going to be the best ever!

“(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?”

“I know it was your turn to ask but, what if...you and I are indeed meant to be together?”

She smiled as she rubbed her cheek on his shirt, “I think we’ll have a gorgeous future together. And...I’d love that more than anything else.”

---------------------

The next morning...

“Morning, Wanda-”

“Shh! Shh!!” The red-haired witch silenced Natasha, and pointed towards the couch.

Curious, Natasha’s eyes followed the direction that Wanda’s finger was pointing at.

There, snuggled in a blanket, fast asleep, sat (Y/N) and Loki, their legs spread on a pouffe, tangled with each other’s. Loki’s arm was wrapped around her shoulder while she was holding his waist. Her head lay on his chest and his on hers.

“Aren’t they cute?” Wanda whispered.

Before Nat could reply, Tony’s voice cut the conversation.

“Who’s cute?”

This time, both the ladies shushed him, leaving a perplexed expression on his once sleepy face.

When they pointed towards the couch, Tony huffed, “These two! God knows what’s taking them so long to realise! They’re just so-” His face lit up. “Know what? I have an idea! I’ll make them confess. Who’s up for it?”

***

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

And...a song for keeping the feelings floating...💕

#loki #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki x reader fluff #loki friends to lovers #friends to lovers #loki x readers friends #loki x reader sweet #long read #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki oneshot #loki imagine #loki imagines #loki fic #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki friggason #loki (marvel) #loki series #loki of asgard #loki love #loki 2021 #loki x you #loki x y/n #mcu loki #loki show #loki tv #loki tva #loki the series

[elysianslove]

Hewwooo! This ask just came into my mind and I wanted to share. So Yuuji has a girlfriend that is a civilian and at first Sukuna is annoyed by her but as time passed he starts to take a like on her since she's always so nice to him despite him being a curse. And he's just so confused about his feelings because him being the king of curses falling for a weakling? Ridiculous. I want to read your interpretation of this idc if its hcs or scenario. Do whatever you like❤

hi my love!! i really hope you like this!! i made it into headcanons so i can go over a larger span of time more smoothly, so i hope that’s okay!

i’m getting so many sukuna requests hell yes 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

okay so let’s make it that you’re yuuji’s gf from before he ate sukuna’s finger ( yeah btw wtf is up with your bf ??? )

he called you as soon as they’d announced the death of his grandpa, because it had felt like you were the last family he had left. seriously you’re his whole world

you’re there when megumi starts explaining stuff about how this finger’s super dangerous and people will die you and yuuji are like 😃✋🏼 wha 

but also so unbothered bc he can’t be serious

turns out he is serious laugh out loud

yuuji makes you go home as you’re at the school gate and you’re like mf what??? no???? i’m not leaving you?? 

he ends up making you wait and then he just never comes back

megumi explains everything to you 

but again you’re like 😃✋🏼 pause wtf 

you keep texting him and calling him and he’s not responding you’d be angry at him if you weren’t so fucking worried 

and so eventually he finds you again 

after eating sukuna’s second finger (again, what the fuck sir) 

now megumi had told you he was now like ? possessed ? by a curse? it sounded like gibberish to you tbh and it was the last thing you were thinking about when you finally saw him again

all that mattered was that he was okay and alive and in your arms 

you’ve never hugged him tighter tbh 

so anyways ! yuuji does not want you to meet sukuna 

like ever 

but when he meets you one day really frustrated from a mission, you ask him about it, and he just vents out everything to you. he tells you how the responsibility can be so overwhelming sometimes, and how sukuna can be so infuriating and you can’t imagine what it must be like having this guy in your head 

and then you just go 

“can i meet him?” 

at first he’s like absolutely not ma’am are u insane 

but then you convince him, telling him you trust him and reminding him he has control 

so he shifts 

you really were expecting something horrendous like seriously you were anticipating fainting from fear 

he’s just your bf 

with a rougher edge 

you like instantly relax 

even if this guy’s expressions are nothing like yuuji’s, you remind yourself that it’s still yuuji inside, no matter what 

“i like your — tats?” 

what do you even say to a curse??? 

he’s scowling at you so much you might piss yourself but you just repeat constantly that he can’t hurt you 

“you disgust me,” he spits out

yuuji shifts back so quick, and just groups you on his arms 

“that wasn’t me, i swear,” he says to you and you have to calm him down and tell him it’s okay !!  it’s not his fault the guy’s an ass 

now! yuuji’s pretty comfortable with your level of physical affection 

in fact, he loves it so much. it’s one of his favorite things about you. 

so he’s always welcoming an embrace from his favorite person in the world, but it’s so hard to ignore sukuna’s words in his mind repeatedly saying how this is so revolting 

he tries his best to pay him no attention 

sometimes y’all will be cuddling and a mouth appear somewhere on yuuji’s body and it’ll say “get ur hands off my vessel human!” and ngl

it always makes you laugh

like how comical is that

eventually, over time, the hugs are 

kinda nice, sukuna realizes 

like he’s a thousand year old cursed spirit

he’s not really gotten any affection yk 

like ever 

and it’s not that he ever wanted it

but being with you

or well, him possessing yuuji and yuuji being with you and you being with him through transitive property (thank you grade 7 math)  

it really like softens him

kinda 

a little bit 

like the tiniest bit 

some part of him, he probably thinks it’s yuuji and not even him and that he’s just confused but really some part of him grows to anticipate the hugs 

and when you kiss yuuji 

god

your mouth feels so good he wants to feel it for himself 

it’s like angering him how you’re growing onto him, so he asks yuuji to shift them 

and they do shift

you’re a little surprised bc yuuji gave u like a 3 sec warning before those familiar markings appeared on his skin

“i never thought i’d see you again,” you admit. 

and he just kisses you 

like full on the mouth 

no warning

you pull him back in shock, and rest a hand on his shoulder to keep a distance between you two

“i don’t know where this is coming from but it doesn’t feel right, sukuna.” 

and you’re just

you’re just so nice

why are you so nice???

“i love yuuji, so much, and even though you’re sharing a body you’re still a whole other person. it feels wrong.” 

god why are you so good? it’s infuriating???? 

yuuji shifts back, starts apologizing again like the first time

“you have to stop apologizing for something someone else did, babe.” 

when he’s alone with sukuna that night he’s like dude, dude, bro, my man — we gotta talk boundaries bc wtf

sukuna just goes “not fair u get to kiss her” 

like yeah??? she’s my girlfriend tf ???? 

so sukuna resorts to watching (or feeling) from the sidelines again

as he grows more and more affectionate towards you 

until he’s just as protective over you as yuuji is

until he realizes that 

what yhe fuck

maybe he has feelings for you because, one of the main things about you is that the two times you’ve encountered him, you’ve never treated him like a curse. even if being treated human was once considered belittling to him, having you dote on him like that, speak to him as softly

it made his brain go brrrr 

so he asks yuuji one day, “can i kiss your gf” 

like that’s something you just casually ask

took a lotta convincing but eventually yuuji says “if she says yes then okay” 

it takes like 

90 minutes for both you and yuuji to decide that you’re okay with it. sukuna’s like fuck it ion wanna anymore lmfao

but anyways 

yuuji shifts into him 

and 

he doesn’t even wait the impatient mf 

he just kisses you so suddenly, cupping your neck and tugging at your hair like damn how long has he been wanting to do this

clearly way longer than even he thought 

after that yuuji doesn’t exactly share you, but yeah he’ll let sukuna kiss you every now and then

sukuna’s still not fully accepting of his feelings towards you, but he learns to appreciate you

especially your kindness towards him and yuuji, and the tenderness of your touch 

he never would’ve seen it coming when he awoke in this teenage boy’s body, but he can admit that you’re definitely an added benefit

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #yuji itadori x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori x reader #sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna headcanons

[stevevans]

i know who you pretend I am -f.o

summary - when you think you have nothing left, the capitol proves they can take more.

warnings - torture, violence, angst, general thg violence

w.c - 1.7k

part 2?

District 13 was completely underground, the reception was terrible so there were only a few tvs, none allowed to Finnick and Katniss personally.

They had each other, each day they grew closer, from the Hospital beds to their own rooms to even eating meals together. Sometimes Annie and Mags would come out and join them.

“I wish they were dead. I wish Y/N was dead.”

His eyes were red and swollen from crying, deadpanning as he looked up at Katniss. She truly never got the opportunity to digest how terrible the Capitol truly is.

Finnick had years, she won’t know until it hits her directly.

“She was supposed to get out first. Before me.”

He felt guilt, pilling up in his chest as he tried to suppress tears, letting out a roar of anger instead. Katniss waited until he was done to sit down beside him, promising to get you and Peeta back.

As they eat the same lunch, the tv turns on. Commotion begins as they all turn, Finnick putting down his spoon, eyes wandering to the screen. He figures it will be another work announcement, yet what he did not expect is to see you.

The sofa you two sat on was blood red, propping you both up like dolls. Dressed in a white gown, tulle pooling at your calves and silk draped over your body, loose sleeves that puff out like the paper muffin liners you both used at home, your eyes glassy as you shifted besides Peeta.

He looked good, yet you looked fragile.

Caesar Flickerman’s voice and face came up as the camera panned,

“Hello, we have a special message for the Radicals creating tyranny, from two of our favorite Victors, Peeta Mellark and Y/N L/N.”

Katniss and Finnick were out of their chairs by now, walking closer to the tv as he slipped his hand into her’s, trying to comfort her and ground himself.

Peeta spoke first, his mind seemed to not truly be all there. You kept messing with your dress, looking down and up and around, makeup caked on your face.

“People are hurting, put down your weapons.” The last thing Finick expected was for you to speak,

“Please, Radicals, listen to us. You do not want a fight, we have lived in peace for so long, we all need to do our part in keeping the peace.”

As the people of 13 started to get angry, slamming their trays, whispering harsh words until it turned into screams and Finnick could barely hear the tv, his ears were ringing as the room spun.

He could see your face scrunch in confusion as Caesar explained what happened in the arena, shaking your head, your hand coming to tap on your face.

“No, no, no Finnick would have told me. They did nothing wrong. They would never do that. We do not know what is going on, Finnick loves me, they have to be keeping him hostage, he’d never abandon me.” Your voice wavers as the tv goes dark when Peeta begins spouting gibberish.

He fell to his knees in the cafeteria as the voices called you a traitor. The rest he blocked from his head as guilt ran through his bones.

As the seasons changed, unnoticed by Finnick he grew sicker. Katniss had made a deal that you and Peeta would be rescued at the earliest convenience, but he couldn’t help the feeling that overcame him frequently.

Peeta had only been on the tv one more time since he saw your face, and he looked worse. Finnick could only imagine how you looked, what you were going through, what they were doing to you, and it broke him. So he took to staring at the picture you wanted him to burn.

You promised he would never need another picture of you, since you were going to spend the rest of your life by his side.

How the times change he would think bitterly.

He was listening to a propo with Katniss when Coin came in, demanding Beetee change the channel, that they needed to see.

It wasn’t you. That was a ghost.

Your eyes were sunken, deep purple bags, your cheekbones poking through your skin like sharp knives, you were shaking, trembling, hair falling in your face, yet pinned perfectly.

He could see your nails, chipped and stained red, from blood, he would know the sickly color anywhere, it frequently found him in his night terrors.

You looked terrible, your collarbones peeking out from under your dress. This time it was a pretty blue, like the water, a deep neckline where he could make out marks and bruises that the makeup couldn’t hide.

It shimmered, sparkling like when the sun hit the water just right at sunset. He had to bite his lip to keep from crying, tears already threatening to leak. Peeta looked just as bad. Matching eye bags and bruises, he wondered, selfishly, if they were hurting him more because of Katniss. He wished they were.

When Peeta started speaking you seemed dejected, detached, almost like you weren’t there, your mind far from the Capitol.

“Now Y/N, care to extend on Peeta’s point?”

“Can I go home? I’ve been good, can I please go home? My Mother must be going crazy wondering where I am. I just want the fighting to stop, I want to see my Boyfriend F-'' Your voice died off, as if you failed to remember his name, and his hope dwindled. The TV quickly cut off after that, Peeta’s anger ending the Capitol message abruptly.

All of the Capitol prisoners were rescued a few days later, Finnick and Katniss could hardly contain their excitement. Haymitch had warned them that it would most likely take a long time to find out what all the Capitol put you both through, but Finnick could care less, he just wanted you back.

They had told him that when they came they could hear the broadcast Finnick was giving, and you were screaming so loud they went to your room first, knocking you out with gas.

He was just ecstatic to see you in person again.

The Doctors refused to leave you alone, test after test, blood pressure, pulse, how are you? All over again and again. You were just so tired, You wanted to sleep, but the bed felt too cold.

Everything felt off, it was strange, you felt as if you didn’t belong here, yet you were forced to stay. They told you only what could keep your head above water, always pressuring you to speak more, but your voice was gone.

You shook with an unknown fear every time you thought you saw him. He was the villain of your story, the night terrors that kept you from sleeping, that had you begging Peeta to meet you at the wall to talk, but Peeta stopped coming.

Memories were hazy, the Capitol was weird, you can’t quite put your finger on what they did, the memories all blurred together, but judging by the new weight on your body and the way everyone treated you as the most delicate, fragile creature, you knew it was bad.

The doctors said you had a special visitor, yet they still refused you a mirror, or even a bit of makeup. You had missed human interaction that was not Doctors, Haymitch, or some Government official in 13.

You hoped it was Peeta or Johanna.

You felt like it wasn’t you in your body, shaking, as you climbed off of the white hospital bed, the sheets were wrinkle-less, and when you woke up they were still perfect, pristine, it reminded you too much of the Capitol.

Facing the wall as you waited for your guest you started to pick at the bed of your nails. It hurt, but you were real. They had at least let you put on a shirt and pants after you had begun gaining weight back.

You let your hair down from the ponytail it was in, running a shaky hand through it. Picking at the ends you watched the ground as the door opened. The voice was soft, but it got you to perk up, fear running down your spine and filling you up from the bottom up.

“Baby, is it really you?” his voice was soft, he sounded sad, you could see his feet coming closer, slowly, but it still came closer.

No matter how soft he spoke, you filled with fear. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him yet, hands bunching into fists as your nails dug into your palm.

“Please go away.” Your voice wavered, wanting to cry.

“They told me they are still wondering what happened, but it's okay. You’re okay, I will never let them touch you again. I will kill every last one of them if they even try to touch you.”

You had won the Hunger Games, you could do this, you could evade him long enough to press the big red help button.

He must have taken your silence as complicitness as he shuffled closer to you, causing you to let out another scream at the top of your lungs.

“Please! Back away!”

He seemed sad by your actions, slowing him down long enough for you to nimbly run past him and press the red button,

They kept your door closed so you were ‘safe’ they said, but it was to keep you inside.

“Help me! Please! Help me! He’s trying to kill me! Please!” You screeched, screaming until Haymitch burst in, along with Plutarch and a plethora of Nurses and Doctors.

The man, you couldn’t even say his name, started screaming,

“What the fuck did you do to her? What the fuck did you let them do? Don’t fucking touch me!” Haymitch had to take him out with the help of security,

“They did it with Peeta too, they made her think you are the bad guy. It is not our fault, or yours, the Capitol did this, remember that. The Capitol.”

You tried to stop screaming and crying, but your body would not allow for it. As soon as he was out you crumpled onto the floor, sobs wracking your body as you begged.

The next thing you knew was darkness.

#finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair imagine #the imagine #the hunger games imagine #thg x reader

[mrs-march-ahs]

The Evans Drunk

Enjoy:)

Tate

-On Halloween he’d go out and buy some alcohol and save it for when you’re having a tough day and need cheering up -Either that or you’d take some alcohol from your parents -You’d sit together and drink, not taking shots or anything because you probably only have a few beers or spirits each -Even more into deep talks than usual -But also super easily distracted - “Oh I definitely think that there’s alien life out the- hey reckon I can balance that vase on my forehead?” -Incredibly awkward and white dad dancing to music -Super touchy, would want you on his lap so that he can take a drink and then put it to your lips until you drink it

Kit

-Kit’s a responsible dad and not the type of person to get drunk, but occasionally he will have a beer or two

-Or twelve

-It’d be a barbeque for the whole family and you’d have lots of friends around, joking around, everybody’s kids playing together running around

-Then after everybody ate, you’d all talk and have a few light drinks, and then once the kids went to bed and some of the guests left, Kit, you and a few friends would play beer pong

-He’s be very loud and silly

-Would find jokes 10x funnier and would keep laughing quietly long after everybody else

-Unintentionally pull silly faces, like pretending to be serious if somebody starts talking about something serious

-But then he’d remember that thing he laughed at and snort

-After everybody’s gone, he’d go into the kitchen and want to make cupcakes

- “Kit we can’t make cupcakes at 2am and drunk”

- “We can’t, or we shouldn’t? Two very different things Y/N” he giggles

-You two would pour all the ingredients in the bowl and then you’d stir it

-Kit would come up behind you and put his arms around you, helping you stir, kissing you occasionally

-He would get distracted and you two would go to sleep, leaving the raw cupcakes in the oven without it being turned on

-In the morning, despite Kit having a ridiculous hangover, when he’d see the baking mess, he’d clean it all up

- “Kitten if you told me, I would’ve helped you”

- “No no I made the mess, I’ll clean it”

-Very responsible dad, until next time

Franken Kyle

-You’d be sat together, celebrating New Year’s Eve and you’d of course have some alcohol

-Because you were scared and cautious popping open the champagne in front of Kyle, worried it may scare him, you tried to bribe him a little

- “This bottle cork is going to fly open, with a very loud pop, but try and stay calm and you can drink the champagne first, okay?”

- “From b-bottle?”, he said smiling, knowing that you never let him drink milk or juice straight from the carton

-You say sure, and pop it open, and when it pours out bubbling, Kyle kneels down and sits under it with his mouth open, the alcohol pouring all over his face and shirt

-He’d love it and drink loads

-Covered in sticky champagne, when he hugged you and you tried to change his shirt, he just rubbed his sticky chest over you even more

-Dancing with you, which meant putting his head on your shoulder and swaying

-Drunk, he’d have an even bigger obsession with copying noise

-When he sees the fireworks, “kaboom” or “pew” or “poof”

-When you cheers the glasses, “clink” or maybe even “clinky dink”

Jimmy

-As we saw, a hot mess

-Not aggressive but willing to fight

-Would swing his arms around even not meaning to hit anybody seriously

-Sex drive increases by 40%

-But would probably have a harder time finishing if he was super drunk

-Slurs his word much more than anybody else

-Would act like a child trying to get what he wants from you

- “C’mon Y/N just one more little sippy sip”

- “No Jimmy, you’ve had more than enough”, you say and take the beer bottle away from him, leaving Jimmy to make puckering and make slurping noises, watching you throw the bottle away

-You’d try to put him to bed, so that you could put a backpack on him to avoid him choking on his own vomit

-But after a while of him being annoying, constantly getting up, etc, you’d give up

- “Jimmy I’m not gonna be constantly fighting with you, you either go to bed now or you leave the caravan and end up passing out somewhere on the field”

-He’d get upset and try to apologise, but you’d end up just throwing a blanket over him and sleeping on the couch

-He’d probably wake up still slightly drunk the next morning

-In the evening, a full 24 hours after drinking, he’d come and apologise to you about how he acted, and promise he’d never drink again

-Definitely read this cool fanfic I saw earlier about

drunk Jimmy

James

-Tries to remain classy but sometimes forgets the right words

- “Darling, remember when how the night we met and how you said to me those things and then we danced?”

- “That didn’t make sense, Jimmy”

- “Clearly you weren’t listening carefully enough, darling”

-Super touchy, especially in public

-Arm around your waist, giving your shoulder and neck kisses

-Bite your earlobe just to see your reaction

-He’s very slow

-Has to furrow his eyebrows and open his mouth when listening to you talk, lets him hear better

-This is very specific but if he’s drinking anything out of a straw, he would sit and chew it

-When you got back to your room he would kiss and lick your neck and mumble gibberish against it

-He’d want to give you genuine compliments but being too drunk to have coherent thoughts, he would just mumble

- “mmm…your skin… my darling”

- “What about it, James?”

- “It is so… mmmm”

Kai

-Probably aggressive -If he’s in the mood to start an argument, he’ll find a reason to start one -Would make you feel guilty and upset about something just to hear you apologise -Would be completely in denial about how drunk he is -Very loud and obnoxious -The only time he would slap your ass not possessively but for fun -The scene would be having the cult over to celebrate something, all sitting in the kitchen drinking -He’d keep doing cheers for the most random things - “Pass me some crackers” - “We don’t have crackers Kai, we finished them” - a few second pause… before Kai lifts his glass “wheyyy!” - “Get me another beer babe”, before slapping your ass -Slurs his words a little, but focuses and tries really hard not to -After everybody’s gone home, he’d try to act as sober as possible around you, as if he suddenly doesn’t want you to see him drunk - “Okay, go upstairs, brush your teeth and put your pjs on Y/N” -You laugh slightly and put Kai’s arm around your shoulder, “Let’s get you to bed Kai, I don’t think you’ll make it down those stairs alone” -He takes his arm off and turns you to face him, trying to keep strong eye contact - “What did I just say? Go upstairs… uhm… pjs… brush your teeth… go”, you’d smile in amusement and he would try to put on a stern expression “Now” -You’d obey him, and when he eventually makes it down the stairs and gets to the basement, he’ll look over at you in pjs in bed, and walk over to you -He looks at you up and down, and mumbles “good”, before sitting down panting slightly, not making eye contact - “We have a lot of stairs Y/N”

#american horror story #ahs #ahs imagines #the evans #evan peters character #evan peters characters #tate langdon #tate langdon x #tate langdon x reader #kit walker #kit walker x #kit walker x reader #kyle spencer #kyle spencer x #kyle spencer x reader #jimmy darling #jimmy darling x #jimmy darling x reader #james march #james patrick march #mr march #james march x #james march x reader #kai anderson #kai anderson x #kai anderson x reader

[littlepadika]

Ok, so, based on this Anon Ask about Javi and his little burst of sunshine neighbor that completely ruined me and made me yearn… could you please tell me any and all thoughts you have about the following?

A quiet night where she’s home alone and can’t concentrate on anything (studying or TV or reading) because she’s worried about him being out so late working on something dangerous?

And maybe she finally falls asleep on the couch in front of the TV with a textbook propped open on her chest, and Javi finds her there when he gets back at 3 a.m. and he realizes she waited up for him?

And he covers her with a blanket and turns off the TV and just watches her sleep for a little bit before he goes to bed.

And what happens the next morning?

I really enjoyed the slow burn of the first one, the anticipation was DELICIOUS!!!

Yes... yes... YES. I love this idea!!!! I hope I deliver a similar amount of yearning again!

Javi's Sunshine Pt 2

Warnings: YEARNING, legal age gap

Part one Part three

You stood from the couch for the tenth time tonight, wringing your hands and staring down at the quiet street outside. There were thousands of things to worry about, rippling out bigger and bigger. Your school assignments (untouched on the coffee table), your water damaged apartment, drug lords running through the streets, corruption in the government, yet the most pressing, the most imperative, the most imposing concern was Javi. Was Javi safe?

You were acutely aware of Javi's absence. The left side of the leather couch still sagged slightly from where he sat the night before. Where he laughed as you demonstrated your perfect summersault. Where he listened to you read aloud the rough draft of your essay. The bedroom door was still ajar from his frantic packing. He left at the last possible second which gave you unfounded hope and guilt. Was he stalling because he didn't want to leave you? You hoped so.

When Javi was around his gravity was enormous, pulling you tight to him. When he was gone you floated without direction. In your head you knew worrying was silly. Javi was a DEA agent. He was smart and capable. You were just his younger neighbor who cooked and cleaned for him and sometimes made him smile. You cared about him without permission and without any endgame. Just boundless hope.

You eventually walked away from the window after several minutes of no activity. The dark street and dim street lamp unchanged from the last times you checked. You fell back down on the right side of the couch and pulled your heavy textbook and notes into your lap. All the words were gibberish from the late hour and your continued worry about Javi. You should probably just go to sleep and trust he was fine, but you were determined to stay up. You wanted to see with your own eyes that he made it back okay.

Midnight became 1am became 2am. Somewhere after that you passed out, head resting on the left side of the cool leather couch. If Javi was here, your head would have been in his lap.

Javier returned around 4am after a successful raid and debrief with his boss. He assumed you'd be asleep but when he saw the dim light through the bottom of the door he felt his heart pick up. Not the same feeling as when he was pursuing a criminal or taking heat from the ambassador. Warmer. Lighter. He prepared to chide you for staying up so late though he would be grateful to see your beautiful face. He opened the front door door, eagerly looking around the apartment for your shining figure.

"Hermosa?" He called. He finally walked past the couch and saw you, curled up below, you text book barely hanging on. You had tried to stay awake. He smiled, heart clenching with affection. Even when asleep you were vivid and bright. He gently took the textbook from your arms and pulled a scratchy blanket over your body. You mumbled incoherently before snuggling further into the couch. "You're gonna get a sore neck from sleeping here." Javi whispered, acting on impulse and stroking the back of his finger down your cheek. You didn't stir again so he went ahead and poured himself a drink, falling into the armchair nearby.

Javi watched you fall back into a deep sleep, uncurling yourself from your ball. He wanted to hold you. If you were awake you probably would have hugged him when he came back. He felt silly assuming your reaction, but he knew that you would. You cared for him. You said so before he left. But this was okay too. Just watching you. Safe and unencumbered.

When he was driving towards the hold out tonight, he conjured the image of you in his mind. He needed to remind himself what he was fighting for. It was easy now that you had been staying with him. He could add scars and birth marks to his mental image. He could recall favorite memories. Your laugh. The hunt for Cali felt more personal now that you were in his life. All he had to do was think of how these men were making the world unsafe for you, his sunshine, and he had all the strength he needed to keep fighting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Javi?" He jerked awake. He was still in the chair and work clothes. An awful kink in his neck. You were standing over him also in the same clothes as last night, patting his shoulder.

"What time is it?" He looked outside. It was light now.

"7am. When did you get back?" You assessed his face. Darker circles than usual under his eyes. Your cheeks were dusted pink ever since you had woken up with a blanket you most definitely did not put on yourself.

"Sometime after 4." Javi stood up, rolling his neck. His voice was gruff from sleep. His hair ruffled. You felt butterflies soar through your stomach.

"I guess I fell asleep waiting. Glad you made it back okay." You chewed your lip drifting towards him. Suddenly this all felt awkward. You had everything planned for when he came back. Even if it was late you wanted to hug him tightly, feed him, make sure he wasn't hurting anywhere.

"Yeah. Me, too." Javi replied, noticing your wanting gaze and feeling his heart stutter and then kick back into that fast light flutter it always did around you.

"I was really worried." You looked away sheepishly. "I know you had it handled but still."

"Thank you, hermosa." He placed a hand on your shoulder reassuringly.

"Can I- can I hug you?" You squeak, blinking up at him.

"S-sure." Javi cracks a smile opening his arms for you. You always knew just what he wanted. You thought you probably looked a little childish running into his open arms but you had wanted to do it for a long time, longer than this mission. Probably since the day you met him. Your cheek made contact with his white wrinkled shirt and your arms linked behind his waist. You hugged him tightly and without any restraint. You feel his body relax against yours, leaning against you. He held your head in one hand, the small of your back in his other.

He held you like you were precious, because you were. He tilted his head down into your soft hair, inhaling your scent. He must have been a little too obvious because you looked up at him with a wry smile. The burning flame of hope inside his chest grew brighter at your light giggle. His skin would forever be burnished gold from your touch. Fuck, could he be that lucky?

Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it.

"Are you hungry?" You cleared your throat stepping back. "I made Tres Leches cake last night for when you got back but I can make huevos."

"Sure. But I can help, hermosa." Javi recovered from losing your touch, pulling at his tie. "Let me just change out of these clothes."

You watch him go with a sinking feeling. The moment was fading, window closing. You felt his ever present gravity tugging at your heart.

"Javi?" Your voice was higher, pinched by desperation. He stopped and turned, looking expectant. "I'm- I'm glad you're home."

"Me too." He replied with a smile, dark eyes lighting up.

Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @ajeff855 @what-iwish-you-knew @kirsteng42 @fan-of-encouragement @sleep-tight1 @pascalisfairyy @ceniington, @prettypedros 🧁, @pascal-rascal424 @axshadows @prideandpascal @frenchyjuju @pedrosmustache @blackmarketmummy @idreamofboobear @pretty-brown-eyess @persephones-garden @javierpinme @mylittlesenaar @bellaorisa @elinedjarin @beskarboobs @beskar-candy @dindjarinneedsahug @anaaaispunk @headinthestarz @beskarprincessjenny @nicolethered @takochansugoi @heythere-mel @petersunderoos96 @theherothesavior @disasterhann @deadhumourist @dihra-vesa

Javi taglist: @3rdfloorview @goddessofsprings

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction

[swqns]

“ I swear it to you, I will never forget how you loved me. “

synopsis ;;

                    You think back on a distant memory of Kazuha finding you wounded at the Wangshuu Inn. He hadn’t been there to protect you from such an injury, but you two still looked back on it fondly. Now, you reminisce alone, praying to any god out there that Kazuha doesn’t have to see your downfall.

-- kazuha x gn reader

-- cw ;; blood , death , injury.

-- note ;; enjoy <3 do let me know which part of this hurt the worst in my inbox, im curious

Being a traveler, you’ve had your fair share of injuries. some worse than others. some … you weren’t quite sure how you healed from them.

Some injuries were sourced from carelessness, ignorance, or pride. you did take more care to not get injured after falling in love with kazuha, though. he means the world to you, you can’t imagine leaving him alone in it. you knew he had his worries about you, and as much as he wishes he could follow you into battle .. sometimes you just traveled where he could not follow. he was a wanted man, after all. but you always returned home. always on time, or earlier. you were never late so .. why were you late?

Kazuha paced back and forth, nibbling at his fingernails in his worry. you were supposed to be home from this commission hours ago .. where had you gone?

His pacing is interrupted by a deckhand knocking on the door of your shared quarters, the place you two had been calling home for a while.

“Kazuha, you have a letter. it’s important.“

He doesn’t say anything other than a quiet thanks as he unfolds the delicate paper, reading the words scribbled down. you can almost see the moment his spine stiffens and his blood feels like ice in his veins. kazuha is out of that door and jumping off the boat in a second, using his anemo vision to aid him in his sprint towards a certain inn.

He’ll be damned if he cares about getting caught. you have docked in liyue anyway, the chances were slim. all he cared about was reaching you in time.

The letter had been delivered to inform your fellow crew of your condition. you’d taken a hit from the blunt side of a mitachurl’s axe. it broke several bones on impact, but your arm had shielded most of the damage away from your ribs. you’d be extremely lucky if your arm healed back completely, though.

You’d been ushered to one of the upper floors of the Wangshu Inn by several adventurers who had found you on their way home, laying unconscious. your arm was broken, making even the seasoned adventurers wince at the sight of it. verr goldet had convinced the green-haired Adeptus living at the inn to deliver the letter, your condition was critical and your companions and loved ones needed to be notified of your whereabouts. after running the errand, however, he went back to his anti-social tendencies and disappeared against the mortal eye. he had no reason to be physically present with you .. but maybe he could watch over nearby and make sure you were breathing. just for verr goldet’s closure.

You can hear kazuha’s voice pierce the thick fog of your unconsciousness.

“Where are they ?! [ name ], i- i got a letter they were here and hurt, where are they ?!“ he calls, voice hoarse and you can almost hear the way his heart shatters in it. you don’t have the strength to open your eyes, but you can hear his light footsteps approaching the cot you’re resting on as the door opens.

Kazuha falls to his knees beside you, grabbing your unwrapped hand with his and holding it close to him, mumbling incoherent prayers to some god that you’re okay. you peek at him through your eyelashes, moving your hand to pet his hair.

“Kazu, you worry too much,” you speak.

A held breath leaves his body, and you can see his shoulders relax. unshed tears shine against his eyes, a shaky laugh leaving him.

“You worried me sick. what happened ? are you hurt ?”

You laugh. a weak sound leaving your beaten body, your hand once resting on kazuha’s hair moving to your shattered arm. “ … yeah.”

Kazuha’s eyebrows furrow and he stands to get a better view of your other arm. With how heavily it was bandaged, and the makeshift splint peeking through the layers of fabric and gauze, it wasn’t hard to figure out just how bad the injuries were. You had other bandages and bandaids scattered around your body, a few small ones on your face. kazu wordlessly presses soft kisses to each of the wounds on your upper body, scooping you into his arms. he’s mindful of your injury, keeping any and all pressure off of your arm.

..

Oh, how you wished you were in his arms again. the blue sky above you seemed to dull as you laugh. laugh at the gods for cursing you this way. left to bleed out on an expedition in jueyun karst. your previous break had left you with permanent injury in your arm, and though you could move it just fine, the range in which you could was not as good as it used to be. meaning, your entire side was exposed to enemy attack.

You knew how kazuha beat himself up that time. when you first broke your arm, he didn’t leave you alone until you had completely healed. apologies spewed from his mouth for the first few days. he was sorry he wasn’t there to protect you. how long it took him to get to you. sorry for not being the one to find you.

Knowing that, you almost hoped he didn’t find you. it would shatter him more than you just not returning home. it was such a warm place. you and kazuha shared many memories there. you grew closer there.

You let your eyes close, the blood loss making your eyelids feel like lead and your limbs feel like ice. maybe it wasn’t your delirious state that made the sky seem dull, as soft raindrops patter against your face, making your spilled blood travel with the water. does death feel warm, you wonder? as warm as kazuha’s hands around you? what you’d give to feel his arms around you one last time.

You’re too far gone to realize a warmth does embrace you until you’re physically shaken into consciousness. your eyes flutter and reveal a certain ronin dressed in red clothing. tears stream freely down his cheeks, his words nothing more than gibberish to you. you smile to yourself, cursing the gods once more to give the love of your life the pain of watching you die.

The downpour grows heavier, drenching both you and kazuha as it washes away every feeling from your body. with the little strength you have left, you lift a shaky hand and hold kazuha’s face. a smear of your blood is left from where you rub your thumb on his cheek, trying to reassure him with what you have.

“Kazuha, I love you. don’t you ever forget that” you murmur, and one of his own hands goes to cover the one holding his face.

“Don't talk like that. I’m going to save you, I won’t let you die here,” he speaks, but deep down you both know there’s no saving you. the edges of your vision go blurry as you lose the strength to hold your hand up, and kazuha does it for you.

“Swear to me. swear that you won’t forget how much i love you,” you whisper, and you can feel yourself letting your eyes close. if you have any hope of living, you know you need to keep them open. kazuha does too as he ushers you to look at him, to reopen your eyes, to say something. anything.

He can feel his will draining from his limbs as he hugs your dying body close to his. you’re cold, colder than any cryo beast he’s ever fought. colder than the rain falling on your bodies. you’re already gone, he realizes. pulling your body into his lap, he wraps an article of his clothing around you as he leans against a rock. letting the rain soak through his hair and into his clothes, he holds you close to him as your blood seeps into his clothing.

“I swear it.”

#genshin impact x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha genshin impact #genshin impact angst #kazuha angst #velli.fics #kaedehara kazuha

[dourpeep]

im gonna try and send the whole thing but make the text small !! i hope this works (｡･･｡)

—

being a traveler , you’ve had your fair share of injuries. some worse than others. some … you weren’t quite sure how you healed from them.

some injuries were sourced from carelessness , ignorance , or pride. you did take more care to not get injured after falling in love with kazuha , though. he means the world to you , you can’t imagine leaving him alone in it. you knew he had his worries about you , and as much as he wishes he could follow you into battle .. sometimes you just traveled where he could not follow. he was a wanted man , after all. but you always returned home. always on time , or earlier. you were never late so .. why were you late ?

kazuha paced back and forth, nibbling at his fingernails in his worry. you were supposed to be home from this commission hours ago .. where had you gone ?

his pacing is interrupted by a deckhand knocking on the door of your shared quarters , the place you two had been calling home for a while.

“ kazuha , you have a letter. it’s important. “

he doesn’t say anything other than a quiet thanks as he unfolds the delicate paper , reading the words scribbled down. you can almost see the moment his spine stiffens and his blood feels like ice in his veins. kazuha is out of that door and jumping off the boat in a second , using his anemo vision to aid him in his sprint towards a certain inn.

he’ll be damned if he cares about getting caught. you have docked in liyue anyway , the chances were slim. all he cared about was reaching you in time.

the letter had been delivered to inform your fellow crew of your condition. you’d taken a hit from the blunt side of a mitachurl’s axe. it broke several bones on impact , but your arm had shielded most of the damage away from your ribs. you’d be extremely lucky if your arm healed back completely , though.

you’d been ushered to one of the upper floors of the Wangshu Inn by several adventurers who had found you on their way home , laying unconscious. your arm was obviously broken , making even the seasoned adventurers wince at the sight of it. verr goldet had convinced the green-haired adeptus living at the inn to deliver the letter , your condition was critical and your companions and loved ones needed to be notified of your whereabouts. after running the errand , however , he went back to his anti-social tendencies and disappeared against the mortal eye. he had no reason to be physically present with you .. but maybe he could watch over nearby and make sure you were breathing. just got verr goldet , of course…

you can hear kazuha’s voice pierce the thick fog of your unconsciousness.

“ where are they ?! [ name ] , i- i got a letter they were here and hurt , where are they ?! “ he calls , voice hoarse and you can almost hear the way his heart shatters in it. you don’t have the strength to open your eyes , but you can hear his light footsteps approaching the cot you’re resting on as the door opens.

kazuha falls to his knees beside you, grabbing your unwrapped hand with his and holding it close to him, mumbling incoherent prayers to some god that you’re okay. you peek at him through your eyelashes , moving your hand to pet his hair.

“kazu , you worry too much.” you speak.

a held breath leaves his body , and you can see his shoulders relax. unshed tears shine against his eyes , a shaky laugh leaving him.

“you worried me sick. what happened ? are you hurt ?”

you laugh. a weak sound leaving your beaten body, your hand once resting on kazuha’s hair moving to your shattered arm. “ … yeah.”

kazuha’s eyebrows furrow , and he stands to get a better view of your other arm. With how heavily it was bandaged , and the makeshift splint peeking through the layers of fabric and gauze , it wasn’t hard to figure out just how bad the injuries were. You had other bandages and bandaids scattered around your body , a few small ones on your face. kazu wordlessly presses soft kisses to each of the wounds on your upper body, scooping you into his arms. he’s mindful of your injury , keeping any and all pressure off of your arm.

..

oh how you wished you were in his arms again. the blue sky above you seemed to dull as you laugh. laugh at the gods for cursing you this way. left to bleed out on an expedition in jueyun karst. your previous break had left you with permanent injury in your arm , and though you could move it just fine , the range in which you could was not as good as it used to be. meaning , your entire side was exposed to enemy attack.

you knew how kazuha beat himself up that time. when you first broke your arm , he didn’t leave you alone until you had completely healed. apologies spewed from his mouth for the first few days. he was sorry he wasn’t there to protect you. how long it took him to get to you. sorry for not being the one to find you.

knowing that , you almost hoped he didn’t find you. it would shatter him more than you just not returning home. ah .. home. it was such a warm place. you and kazuha shared many memories there. you grew closer there.

you let your eyes close , the blood loss making your eyelids feel like lead and your limbs feel like ice. maybe it wasn’t your delirious state that made the sky seem dull , as soft raindrops patter against your face , making your spilled blood travel with the water. does death feel warm , you wonder ? as warm as kazuha’s hands around you ? what you’d give to feel his arms around you one last time.

you’re too far gone to realize a warmth does embrace you until you’re physically shaken into conscious. your eyes flutter , and reveal a certain ronin dressed in red clothing. tears stream freely down his cheeks , his words nothing more than gibberish to you. you smile to yourself , cursing the gods once more to give the love of your life the pain of watching you die.

the downpour grows heavier , drenching both you and kazuha as it washes away every feeling from your body. with the little strength you have left , you lift a shaker hand and hold kazuha’s face. a smear of your own blood is left from where you rub your thumb on his cheek , trying to reassure him with what you have.

“kazuha , I love you. don’t you ever forget that.” you murmur , and one of his own hands goes to cover the one holding his face.

“dont talk like that. I’m going to save you , I won’t let you die here.” he speaks , but deep down you both know there’s no saving you. the edges of your vision go blurry as you lose strength to hold your own hand up , and kazuha does it for you.

“swear to me. swear that you won’t forget how much i love you.” you whisper , and you can feel yourself letting your eyes close. if you have any hope of living , you know you need to keep them open. kazuha does too as he ushers you to look at him , to reopen your eyes , to say something. anything.

he can feel his own will draining from his limbs as he hugs your dying body close to his. you’re cold , colder than any cryo beast he’s ever fought. colder than the rain falling down on your bodies. you’re already gone , he realizes. pulling your body into his lap, he wraps an article of his clothing around you as he leans against a rock. letting the rain soak through his hair and into his clothes , he holds you close to him.

“i swear it.”

—

-kreide 🪶

(':

I am gross sobbing-

#ANGST #cw: injury #cw: death #kreide 🪶 anon #mY HEART HURTS KREIDE #genshin impact #genshin impact kazuha #kazuha x reader #genshin impact angst #dfhaoiehawe #my he a r t it hurt

[sunnysviolin]

semiverbal sunny semiverbal sunny semiverbal sunny semiverbal sunny semiverbal s- /lh - autistic sunny anon / ⛅️

Good ask good ask good ask good ask g-

LOL I’m sorry this took forever, but it’s the kick off to my Happy Birthday Mari posts! Even tho this is mostly about Sunny….Okay but Mari is at the center of it all!!!! I kept you waiting for far too long shy sun nonnie...forgive me….my hero vibes are dulling….

Sunny has always been an incredibly quiet boy. Even as a baby when Mari would stand on her tip toes and peer into his crib, he wouldn’t make noises. He didn’t cry like she was always told babies do. He didn’t laugh or shriek or make any of the annoying noises Hero always complained about with Baby Kel

But Sunny didn’t make any noises… even when Mari was sure he wanted to

Mom and dad take her Sundrop to a lot of doctors when he’s still not talking by three, and Mari stays up at night scared sick that her baby brother is not okay. Sunny always seemed okay with not talking, but maybe she just hadn’t been a good big sister and hadn’t noticed

Sunny talks when he’s four. Not many words, and never enough for her parents, but Mari doesn’t mind.

She and Sunny have figured out their language- Drawings. Sunny has dozens of them with him always, loose papers are strewn all over their house. Sunny will draw her with a big happy grin, and Hector, the next door dog, and all sorts of things. Mari makes it her mission to speak Sunny’s language, and she’s pretty good at it

Her parents...they’re another story.

They don’t see what she sees, Sunny’s alphabet of colored pencils and crayons is gibberish to them. Sunny will press a picture of a cookie into her hand, and she will bring him to get a snack, while their mother just pins the picture to the fridge absentmindedely and leaves Sunny to go hungry

Kel and Hero are also good at decoding Sunny’s pictures. Kel in particular, and he takes to doing his own drawings sometimes. His are less literal, less asking, but Hero decodes them all the same. Mari however remains the master of Sunny’s rosetta stone.

When she’s ten and Sunny is six, Mari decides to find a language that her parents can understand too. Mom adn Dad’s frustration is only mounting, and Sunny’s pain is doing the same.

Sunny can talk, they don’t understand why he doesn’t. Sunny is perfectly capable of talking to them, but Mari sees everything. She sees his drawings of walls and people with no mouths, and she knows what her little brother needs.

She picks up a book on sign language at the library. She sits down in a back corner with Hero and drills signs back and forth with him until they’re both sitting with cramped fingers and exhausted brains

It’s here that she tells Hero about the doctors, about what her parents didn’t listen to. Doctors wanted Sunny to go through tests. Something that would’ve helped him. Sunny doesn’t know, and Mari’s parents don’t know that she knows, but Mari knows. Mari knows and there’s nothing she can do. She doesn’t even know if the tests really would have helped, but she knows her brother has things he wants to say that he can’t

Hero takes her hand in his and presses a sign into it. It’s just a closed fist with the thumb over the fingers. S It’s a promise, a declaration that she is not alone. That she is not the only person who is willing to take the extra step for her most beloved person. Her little brother, who so deeply wants to be seen the way everyone else is.

Mari kisses him in an act of desperation. Then she can’t stop herself from kissing him again.

She gets home that night to a tense household. Her parents are cuddled on the couch, her sundrop nowhere in sight. Mari steals upstairs and sees Sunny surrounded by papers, one hand fisted in his hair, the other in his mouth.

She puts her books on the desk as quietly as she possibly can, and kneels down on the floor. She doesn’t have any tools yet, no routines to help. Mari can only sit and wait for him. She doesn’t look at the drawings, a collection of fierce black and red scribbles. Sunny eventually comes back to himself.

He stares up at her with big eyes, no tears like other children, but a sadness that brings tears to Mari’s eyes instead. Rather than let herself fall into despair, Mari thinks only about the work she’s doing

She brings her hands up into two finger guns, one hand coming up to her chin, and then swiping down to join her other hand in front of her chest. She repeats the motion a few times, saying the words out loud

Big sister. Big sister. Big sister.

Sunny is watching her now, eyes no longer sad but still wide. Now there is a curiosity there, a slowly building hope. Mari continues, placing one hand palm open, and patting it with her other hand in a thumbs up. She says her next word out loud

Help. Help. Help.

She combines the two signs Big sister Help. Sunny watches it, and then repeats it cautiously on his own, tilting his head in question. Big sister. Help? Mari nods and pulls Sunny into a tight hug. She can feel his hands moving against her in the motions of the words. The press of his head against her shoulder. They don’t need anything spoken aloud. She can feel his relief at finally being heard.

#this got #so fckn long #it’ll have a part two #that’s for sure #anyway!!! #I hope this was #somewhat of something close #to what you were thinking!! #⛅️ #I really enjoyed it #but maybe it’s Augh #anyway #ignore my anxieties #omori #omori headcanons #omori headcanon #omori sunny #omori hero #omori mari #heromari #autistic sunny #omori autistic sunny #semi verbal sunny #honestly kinda #nonverbal sunny #happy birthday mari #the kickoff #it’s an hour from now #asks #anon

[somedayonbroadway]

That person is a genius, a reincarnation/ghost AU sounds AMAZING

Happy Halloween!

Jack was overwhelmingly busy. He always was, the work was never ending and the chaos never ceased. People looked and spoke to him like he’d chosen this life, like this had been what he’s wanted from the start, a high school dropout, a father at fifteen, a divorcée with two kids from two different women who never seemed to want anything to do with them, a man working three jobs and still struggling to pay the bills.

Yeah, this was not what Jack had asked for.

It was too late to turn back now. Besides, Jack loved his kids. He just didn’t always have to like them. “Dad, will you please tell Smalls to stay out of my room?” a teenager’s voice cried, walking out into the main room and wearing a hoodie that was much too large for him on his thin figure. The boy had an annoyed scowl on his face. “She won’t leave me alone and I’m trying to get my homework done —“

The little girl that peaked out from behind him stomped her little foot as Jack stirred the pasta and tried to clear his head. It never worked. “He was talking to a boy,” she huffed. “On the phone. Sloppy or something—“

“Dad,” the boy tried again.

Jack sighed. “Racer, go do your homework, Smalls, why don’t you play in your own room?” he asked.

Smalls shrugged. “The man said he wanted to be alone—“

“Come on, not this again,” Race groaned. “Saraya, there is no man in your room!” he insisted, turning to Jack. “Dad, can you please do something?”

“Sure, Tyler, let me just make dinner, pay the bills, wash the laundry and the dishes, pack lunches for tomorrow and finish my latest commission while also stopping your little sister from trying to hang out with you,” Jack ranted, not even looking up at his son. The boy was fifteen and Jack missed the years prior to his teens every day. It was painful to watch the kid grow up. “Go do your homework. Let her play on the floor. She’s a kid, Racer, let her pretend for a while longer.”

“I ain’t pretending!” Smalls cried, crossing her arms over her chest. “The man wants to be alone! He’s real sad and sometimes he needs to be alone.”

Jack nodded. “Okay, Smallsie…” he sighed, not even looking up from making dinner.

“Dad, she can’t stay in my room, she’s too loud,” Race whined. “Can’t she stay out here with you?”

Jack sighed. “Tyler James…” he breathed in slight irritation. He hated that his baby was a teenager now. His other baby was bound to follow. Jack ran a hand over his face as Smalls stomped her foot into the ground.

“Ire in gehennam!” the little girl cried and her family froze.

Slowly, Jack turned to face his daughter, squinting. “Saraya, what did you just say?” he asked, thinking it must be gibberish, but the words were said with such confidence, Jack knew that had to mean something.

When her brother tilted his head at her, Smalls grumbled and rushed back to her room, slamming the door shut behind her. She rushed onto her bed and hid beneath the covers, not understanding why her brother and father didn’t believe her. “They don’t believe me —“

“Shhhhh…” someone hushed. “Saraya… be very quiet.”

Peeking her head out from beneath the blanket, the little girl looked at the man before her. He had jet black hair and pretty blue eyes. “They don’t believe me, David…”

“They can’t see me,” he assured. “But you can. Right now, I need you to be quiet.”

“Is the bad man here?” the girl asked.

“Yes,” David replied. “But as long as we’re quiet, everything’s gonna be just fine,” he breathed.

Smalls bit her lip and glanced at her door, wondering why David was invisible before she pulled the blanket over her head to hide, trying to tune out the voices and pretending like this was a game. Dad and Tyler would come and find him soon and Smalls would try to tell them about the man in her room. And they wouldn’t believe her.

It was the same old routine.

Anyone interested in more?

#anonymous #anon ask #anon request #anon #modern era #modern au #modern newsies #newsies #newsies live #newsies musical #jack kelly #racetrack higgins #smalls newsies #much love #ghost au #dad!jack #dad jack Kelly #david jacobs

[themilky-way]

on a foreign planet

gif credit: santigarcia

pairing: din djarin/the mandalorian x reader

summary: din isn’t too fond of touch, but after a particularly cold mission, he realizes just how important it might be. 

warnings: uh is me being touch starved a warning bc if so oh boy

author’s note: got the cot inspiration from 1) the literal fucking cot scene-you know what i’m talking about and 2) miss birbs’ lovely fic @whirlybirbs​ 

-----------

from what you saw, it had been a faulty mission on tatooine. the minute he stepped off the lift of the crest and set out to look for something was the minute your gut tightened in an all too familiar feeling. you came to know it like the back of your hand-living and occasionally partaking in conversation with the mandalorian the leading cause. you learned to trust that ache and never questioned it despite many efforts to do so; desperate attempts to urge him to not leave the safety of his ship were made, and sometimes a laugh threatened to escape because of how silly you must’ve sounded. the mandalorian never listened and never would, so all you could do was prepare the emergency kit stationed within the cabinets of the cockpit. 

he’d bust in whenever you’d least expect it. a weary hand clutching the side of his abdomen or a limped gait indicated he needed some form of assistance, and the responsibility was almost always yours. most of the time he never said a word, as was his usual demeanor, and just situated himself on the floor near your bed, his back leaning into the mattress. he knew you’d do it-care for him and restore his health-and now it’d be no different. 

“i’ll be back before sundown,” din informed. his armor seemed to glisten more in the early morning rays than it did in the evening, an odd comparison you made when he entered the cabin. he stood proudly at the door, as he definitely should, wiping his pistol with a small rag and inspecting its crevices and compartments to ensure its performance. then he looked up. 

you were sitting-cuddled, more like-in his pilot’s chair with the baby pulling on the strings of din’s blanket from the ground. short, high-pitched sounds came from him to gain attention. this isn’t yours, he wanted to say, but was stuck with the only language he knew: gibberish. “feel free to keep my blanket by the way,” the mandalorian assured, “you’ll need it for the blizzard tonight.”

“what blizzard? i thought it was just desert here,” you inquired, sitting up a bit in bewilderment. the blanket slid over your legs at the sudden motion, falling over the child still tugging at it. it covered his tiny head all the way to his tiny toes, outlining his (rather large) ears and torso. “maker,” you huffed after hearing a muffled, yet complaining coo, “what’s up with you today?” lifting the sheet with one hand, you brought the baby along with you and positioned it on top of your leg. “there. take a nap, will you?”

when you finally got the opportunity to look away, you captured a glance of din exiting the craft with his equipment in hand. you didn’t expect anything less; his attitude was meant to be cold and harsh. he didn’t have to say good-bye every time he left for a mission or tell you good morning whenever he woke up, yet you’d be lying if you said that the absence of these aspects didn’t take a toll on you. hell, a friendship would've been nice considering all the time you’ve spent with one another, but what you received would have to suffice.

it wasn’t often that you were left alone. somehow, and for some strange reason, the man who so earnestly follows his creed never lets the child or you out of his sight. it was fun at times; you bought the weekly groceries while din scavenged for an alien for its monetary value. a win-win. 

“i’m gonna go in that room...” you pointed to the small door of the cot, “...and i’m gonna sleep for a while, okay?”

the child looked at you and gurgled a reply. it began pointing its ears forward as a cat would if it were content. his stubby hands, which were hard to differentiate between that or paws, reached upward to indicate his wish to be hoisted. “you wanna come with?” you asked quietly, and a set of miniature teeth that were barely there flashed in a wide grin. 

the plan wasn’t to doze off for more than two hours. the siesta wasn’t meant to last through the whole evening either. 

the quilt (that wasn’t rightfully yours) was too warm for you not to fall asleep. the baby cozied up in the junction of your arm and elbow with its fuzzed head against your shoulder. your legs and torso were contorted to accommodate the limited capacity of the bunk; it wasn’t the best position per se, but it did the trick. 

on his way back from an assigned trade, the mandalorian’s field of vision turned foggy. a gloved hand that was possibly blue with the frost clung to his belongings in the same manner as when he’d left. to discard the items and shield himself from the falling snowflakes was what he wanted to do, but each slow, deep tread of his boots promised a closer distance to the comfort of his plane. snow developed into sleet as he neared the engine, with the droplets of water trickling down the “T” of his visor serving as a fun game of ‘which drop will reach the bottom first?’ it was childish in itself and not in the slightest bit appropriate for his current conditions. 

when the sleeve of white beneath his shoes became metal, his back straightened with a few cracks (one of his perks, he liked to say). his brain was running automatically, directing his steps and turns to where he could find one fragment of peace: the cot. 

he knew you were inside. the visibility his helmet equipped him with was astonishing; a single click of a button and the steps you took during his leave would be all his to analyze and detail. the same trembling hands from before reached for the latch and opened the door of the compact room. he tried to speak as clearly as he could without arousing a scare in the child or you, a free palm gently grasping and shaking your ankle. 

“hey,” he whispered. “canyouwakeupplease?” it came out rushed and scrambled, his teeth chattering in between syllables. 

“din’ika?” you slurred, voice heavy with sleep. “what time is-okay, why are you holding my feet?”

“needed s-something to wake y-you up,” din shivered. he took a step back, and for the first time that day, you fully saw him. there wasn’t much light in the space besides the one light coming from the cockpit but the shape of his beskar helped diminish your fatigue. 

“maker, din, you’re freezing. get inside.” 

he didn’t hesitate or fight your suggestion as he typically did. instead, with some trouble, he gradually squeezed himself inside the little space as you slid up the mattress. you swallowed a giggle when the top of his head hit the ceiling because, well, it’s funny.  

“don’t l-laugh at me, i’m c-cold,” he said. 

“i know you’re cold,” you smiled. 

din made the choice to sleep on his back, while your option was to lay on your side and the baby in the middle. it wasn’t horrible. the three of you could live with it.

a few minutes followed before you felt the cold leather of his fingers encircle the tips of yours. the sensation was new; an experience that wasn’t in the script for him. he was afraid of how you’d react. is this too tight? too clammy? i’m wearing gloves, it doesn’t even matter. no wait, yes it does. 

the thoughts stopped as abruptly as they came. he felt the air surrounding the room span across the skin of his wrist, and then the top of his hand. it flowed beyond that to the beginning of his fingers until his covering was completely off. 

your hand was warm and it fit so perfectly in his when you melded it together. a sharp breath hitched in his throat, unaware of how to speak and how to act. in this moment, din’s instinct demanded him to turn away and be who he was presumed to be, but that was nearly absurd now with his hand wrapped in yours.

“is this okay?” you spoke softly. 

he squeezed his eyes shut as if it would dissipate him from existence, trying to overlook your breath fanning into the opening of his suit. “yes. is this alright with you, too?”

“yeah. it is.”

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian #din djarin #star wars #star wars fanfiction #pedro pascal #all my fics w din include hand holding LMAO #it's cuz its cute #my writing!

[cptnbvcks]

cold showers (mandalorian x reader)

summary: mando gets sex pollen-ed and you just so happen to be in the way of him and his cold shower. 

warnings: sex pollen! dub-con because of the sex pollen! 

a/n: this was quick and dirty i just needed to get this out there

By your count, it had been roughly forty-eight hours since you last saw the Mandalorian. 

It wasn’t your position to ask, and the hunter rarely told you much anyway. It was always the same commands: Stay here with the child. Don’t let him out of your sight. Keep him out of the cockpit or he’ll have you halfway to Sorgan before you can stop him. 

Your job was to take care of the child. Stay out of the Mandalorian’s business. 

You wouldn’t have minded his absence — he had been gone for longer bouts of time before — but there was something about the humid heat of this planet’s rainforests and the incessant croaking from the swamps that set you on edge. The heat was creeping into the ship and it was making both you and the child a little antsy. Your clothes stuck to your skin and the child fussed in his bundles of robes. 

“Don’t worry, kid. I’m sure your dad will be home soon,” you murmured gently as you closed the doors of the Razor Crest for the night, eyes scanning the dense, blue-shadowed forest entrance for any sign of glimmering beskar. The child chittered worriedly in your arms as its ears twitched low. 

You looked down at the little green baby and smiled slightly. Its eyes were shifting back and forth over the entrance of the forest too. Searching.

The child babbled lowly as the doors slid shut, casting its massive eyes up at you expectantly. He opened his mouth, his little teeth peeping out from under his lip, and yawned nice and big with a tiny coo as he smacked his mouth back together. You laughed quietly as he blinked tiredly at you, “C’mon, you little womp rat. Lets get you to bed.” 

You massaged the tip of his ear between your fingers as you walked back into the main chamber of the ship. 

It barely took any time at all between you setting him down in the little sleeping nook and turning out the main lights before the little guy had teetered backwards with a thump, closed those big ol’ bug eyes of his, and began snoozing.

“Thank the Maker there aren’t Jawas out here, huh, bud? I can’t imagine shooing those bastards away in this kind of heat.” You spoke to yourself as you dragged the back of your hand across your damp forehead. 

You were worried. You always spoke to yourself when you were worried. 

"Hope he’s okay, little guy,” you sighed under your breath as you pulled a thin cover over the child, leaning down to press a brief kiss to his forehead before pulling down the sheet metal that would keep him from waking up and wandering around. 

Your hair was sticking to the back of your neck and you were more than grateful that the kid almost always slept through the entire night. It meant that you could take all the time you needed in the ship’s shower. 

— 

The water was icy cold and poured gently from the rusty overhead spray. For once, you didn’t complain. The space was cramped and you wondered how the Mandalorian even fit. Surely his head bumped the faucet and his arms knocked over the few toiletries he had. 

You smiled to yourself at the thought. He was always so serious to you that you couldn’t help but wonder sometimes if he even liked you at all, or if he simply tolerated the additional body because he couldn’t keep dragging the child into life threatening situations. 

Sighing, you pressed your forehead against the metal wall as the water dribbled coldly over your back and shoulders. Your eyes slipped shut as your thoughts returned to the Mandalorian. Out there, in the heat. The dark. You hoped he was okay. Partly because you didn’t know what the hell you’d do if he wasn’t. 

Partly for other reasons that you refused to acknowledge because of professional reasons.

Still, the thoughts came, intruding and incessant, as they always were when two people spent too much time alone in space together. You dragged a hand through your hair and thought of Mando’s. Was his hair brown? You imagined so. Brown hair to match the dusky sound of his voice. Dark eyes too, to match his hair. 

Your hand slipped over your neck and you thought of his skin. You knew it was tanned; honey gold and firm with lean muscles. He had come in once with his under-shirt ripped half to hell and you had to restrain the baby as he cauterized his own wounds, despite your offer to help. 

You never wanted to admit it, but you had thought of that little patch of bronzed skin for about two weeks straight. 

Your hand moved lower and you thought of his hands. He had grabbed your wrist once after you touched his shoulder to check if he was sleeping at the wheel. The force of it had left a faint bruise, and if the Mandalorian had ever noticed it, he never brought it up.

A small moan echoed in the tinny shower chamber at the thought of those hands leaving marks somewhere else. 

Your little daydream was abruptly cut short by the sound of the the ship’s buzzing fluorescents going dead silent. Your eyes shot open but you swore you were still lost in the darkness behind your eyes.

“Fuck,” you cursed low, panic rising suddenly as the creeping disorientation set in. You dragged your hand over the wet stall, knocking aside the Mandalorian’s facial blades in the process. 

You reached for where you thought the hatch to the shower chamber was. 

Something grabbed your hand. 

Panic shot through you; raw and piercing as you screamed loud. The hand that clamped down over your mouth and pushed you back into the shower chamber was bare, dry and rough and big enough that its fingers touched your jaw from edge-to-edge. The hand smelled like blaster residue and leather. 

The body pressed into yours and by the maker, they were burning up. Your survival instincts kicked into hyperdrive as you blindly shoved one-handedly at whoever was in the stall with you. Their chest was bare and your hand smacked wetly against it as you shoved at the person’s shoulders. 

“Stop that,” the voice huffed tightly; heavy and familiar and unmodulated — your breath caught in your throat and your struggles halted, “It’s— It’s me. Just me.” 

The Mandalorian. A very naked Mandalorian. 

This had to be a dream. 

Maybe a heat-stroke illusion. 

Your cheeks flared red and you were grateful for the drowning blackness because you thought you might implode if you actually had visual confirmation of what was happening right now. 

You whimpered his name against the palm of his hand, your eyes searching the darkness in front of you for any indication of a face. 

You had never felt so much of him before. Not skin-wise. Not even contact-wise. What was going on? Where had this come from all of a sudden?

He lowered his palm from your mouth before silencing whatever question or rejection that you might have voiced by pressing a hard kiss to your lips. You didn’t know if your eyes were open or closed but you swore you saw stars when he dragged his tongue over the roof of your mouth. 

Maker, he tasted exactly as you had imagined.

“‘m sorry, it’s just— I don’t...” he grunted against your mouth, his words jagged and slurred as his hand dragged down the curve of your throat, squeezing there for a moment before sinking down to the trembling curve of your damp breasts. He squeezed hard, unrestrained and nearly unhinged as he pinched the wet peak of your taut nipple. It fucking hurt.  “Just... fuck—, need you— need this—”

He wasn’t making much sense but you couldn’t exactly ask for clarification when he made his point by shoving his hand between the wet flesh of your thighs. 

Something about this feels off. 

Something about the slur of his voice and the radiating heat that’s surrounding him. The hunter barely ever looked in your direction, rarely even spoke more than he needed to — hell, sometimes you wondered if he even remembered your name — and now here he was, cornering you naked in the shower, sans-helmet and hard as the beskar steel he wore.

Something was wrong.

“M-mando, wait—! Maker, what’s going on?” 

Your head falls back against the chamber wall and the ragged gasp that interrupts when he circles your aching clit with the rough pad of his finger is almost unbecoming of a lady. 

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you get wet for him. Even more so when he buries his fingers to the knuckle within your walls and you cry out like you’ve never been touched by a man before. You’re hot and wet on his fingers as he thrusts them deeper, curling them hard against your clenching cunt until every logical thought turns into gibberish in your head. 

“I just... please, fuck—, stop talking.”  

You comply, but only because he locks his mouth over your breast and rubs his thumb over your swollen clit and you swear to every god in the galaxy whatever’s possessing the Mandalorian is rubbing off on you. 

Your thighs shake hard as he wraps his arm around your waist, forcing you up onto your toes in an attempt to match his height. His cock is trapped between your bodies, hard and thick and your cheeks blush dark as he shifts his hips against you, all but fucking himself against your stomach. It’s vulgar, maybe a little demeaning, but the heat that’s pooling against the Mandalorian’s fingers tells a different story.

“You’re so... tight,” He growls, shoving you harder into the chamber wall, “How are you so tight? I can’t— fuck, can’t wait—” He trails off as you card your fingers into his hair. You feel him shudder against you as he bites down on your flesh hard enough that you pull at his hair in protest. 

He moans against you; low and deep in his chest as he rolls your nipple over his tongue. His entire mouth is hot; fever hot.

All you have is your sense of touch but something about the way he shoves his fingers into you just a little harder and sucks a fresh bruise into your collarbone when you drag your nails against his scalp tells you that you’re testing the fine line of his restraint. 

You know the Mandalorian would never hurt you. He’d never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. But something tells you that if you push him tonight, you’ll be regretting it by morning.

“Turn around,” he orders and you hear the slurred strain of his voice. It almost sounds like he’s wounded but you can’t tell if he’s bleeding with the way the water’s flowing against your bodies. His cock pulses against your stomach as he drags his fingers from your heat, drawing your slickness over your clit until his fingers glide easily over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You take too long to do as you’re told. 

He’s pushing you out of his arms again, his grip bruising as he grabs your hips and flips you towards the wall. The movement of it in such tiny quarters knocks more things from the small shelves of the shower. Your hands fly up to cushion your fall as he shoves you up against the biting steel. The metal is freezing on your breasts, icy compared to the warmth of your hunter’s mouth, and your nipples harden painfully upon contact.

You yelp with surprise as he brings a hand down over your ass. His palm lands slightly awkwardly and it hurts more than you think he intended, “Ow! Fuck, Mando, not so hard—!” 

He hears you, but you don’t think he hears you, because he does it again. Your body jolts and it stings even worse because of the water. This time, he gropes at the plump curve of your backside with one rough palm while the other roams over the exposed flesh of your back that he can hardly see in the darkness. 

There’s so much of you. So much. His thoughts are foggy, sluggish and pinwheeling solely to the body trembling before him in the dark and all the things he wants to do to it. To you. 

He doesn’t realize he’s saying half of these things out loud, brokenly and stuttering on his tongue. They’re filthy and they make you blush all the way down to your breasts.

He knows something’s wrong. Knows he shouldn’t. But when he takes his cock into his hand and drags the bulbous head over your soaked entrance, the Mandalorian realizes that he doesn’t care bout the morality of it. There’s only you. Soaking wet and blushed pink for him. 

You gasp wordlessly, stunned to silence, as he circles your hips with his battle-hardened grip and buries himself deep into your body with a single decisive thrust. Your cry of pleasure comes late, catching on your exhale as your walls flutter tight around him. 

A random shiver crawls down your spine that makes your walls grip him even tighter. Your broken whimper echoes in the shower chamber as you slap a hand weakly against the wall beside your head, your body struggling to acclimatize to the stretch of him. 

“Fu-uck, Mando,” You choke out out, “Fuck.” 

He lets out a shuddered breath behind you and you realize he hasn’t moved an inch yet. Instead, he presses you flat between the wall and his body and grinds into you. Hits you in a place so deep that you swear to the galaxy’s edge that you can feel the ridge of his cock’s head inside of your walls with distinct clarity. Your toes curl and a muscle begins to knot itself in your thigh from the strain of being on your tip toes.

The noise that leaves you is fucking primal.  

He drops his head against the back of your shoulder and lets out a sharp breath, “Good— you feel so good. So soft, everywhere. Everywhere.” 

He begins to move. There’s nothing slow or deliberate about it. It’s messy, the way he fucks into you like he’s halfway forgotten that you’re a person and not a rag doll. 

His hands grab handfuls of your curves, dips between your thighs just to feel the obscene way your pussy stretches around his cock. His mouth is sucking purple bruises over your shoulder blades, ones you won’t even notice once the lights come back on. You smell like his soaps and taste of the distilled water of the shower. He runs his tongue over your flesh and bites down. 

He knows he’s being too rough; knows you’re biting down the pain when he digs his fingers into your breasts and drags your back flush against his chest. You’re wincing slightly when he hits you too deep but you’re sobbing for him when he sinks his fingers between your legs and begins working your clit beneath a rough finger.

You’re making the most beautiful sounds while you’re taking him and when he  wraps his hand around the delicate curve of your throat and pins your head back against his chest, you reach up and grab his arm with urgency, nails biting into the exposed skin of him. Your pussy clamps down hard around his girth and he pushes against the resistance until he’s as deep as your body would allow him. 

It’s so dark and you’re lost in it and all you know is him and the earth shattering pleasure when his fingers press down on your clit. You’re coming and you think you’re screaming but you only know for sure when he squeezes your neck hard enough that the sound catches in your voice box. 

You cling to him as your walls pulse around his cock. You only realize he had cum too when you feel the liquid fullness of it as he continued to fuck himself into your spent body. 

Well.

Now you’re a little concerned for your pussy’s wellbeing.

— 

You wake up the next morning disoriented. The ship is bright and you can hear the birds outside loud and clear. A warm humid breeze blows in and it carries the babble of the baby. 

The baby!

You jolt upright and almost knock yourself out on the utility compartment above the spare cot. 

“Easy. I’ve got him.” The voice comes from the ramp of the ship, crackling gently through the modulator of a shiny beskar helmet. He’s standing at the open entrance, dressed in his armours with the little green child bundled in his arms. You notice the fresh scuff marks on his cuirass, tokens from whatever battle had brought him to this jungle planet for so long. 

Your chest catches with a sudden sharp inhale as the knowledge of the night before hung heavily in the air between you.

For a moment, you don’t know what to say. You wonder if to say anything at all. 

It wasn’t like you could both ignore the fact that he had fucked you from sundown to sunrise in every spot you could fathom on the ship. You certainly couldn’t ignore the fact that you could still feel the remnants of him between your thighs. 

“I understand if you want to leave.” 

The Mandalorian’s abrupt words catch you off guard, but it’s what he said that stuns you to silence. 

“What we did— What I did, I shouldn’t have— I shouldn’t have done that to you,” the Mandalorian was stumbling on his words but the shame that hung in the air between them felt like a punch to the gut, “I was tracking a mercenary in the marshland. She tagged me with something. Some kind of amatory agent.”

It was both hazy and vivid in his mind — putting the quarry in the carbonite chamber, shutting down the lights because he thought you had already retired with the child and to avoid the risk of you finding him without his helmet in his disoriented state, then stumbling out of his armour and into the shower to quell the burning heat that had crept over his body and blurred his mind to one physical singularity.

He remembered finding you in the shower chamber. Naked. Wet. 

And he remembered every single thing he did to you afterwards. 

“I’m truly sorry,” he said softly, and you knew that he fully meant it. You tried to ignore the growing pang of dejection that settled sourly in your stomach. The Mandalorian averted his gaze then as the child peered between you and his somewhat-father, gurgling contently. The hunter turned towards the cockpit hatch. “I’ll set the co-ordinates back to take you back to Nevarro.” 

“... Do you want me to leave?” 

Your words made him pause. The sound of hurt in your voice made his heart ache at the wonder of what he might have broken between you. His breaths echoed in soft static through the helmet as he stood silently.

“No. I don’t.” 

You slipped out of the bunk despite the protest of your thighs. The Mandalorian felt his heart jump in his throat at the sound of your bare feet padding over and for a moment he wondered if he had truly worked all of that poison out of his system. He didn’t fight as the child lifted his arms for you to take him.

You itched the back of the baby’s head and he exclaimed happily. The Mandalorian was looking at you now, just the slightest tilt of his helmet to indicate as much. You looked up at him from beneath your lashes, sugar sweet and endlessly forgiving, as you kissed the child’s head.  

“Then I won’t,” you said softly, jokingly lifting the child slightly, “For his sake.” 

— 

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#the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #baby yoda #star wars #the mandalorian fic #myfic

[ultimatetrashyfanfic]

I’m just gonna say Non-despair AU cause I want everyone to be happy. I freaking LOVE Gundham so much, he’s wonderful and I’ve been wanting to write him for a while (but stalling cause of his DIALOGUE. It’s so hard). Buuuut I decided to finally give it a shot. And to kind of vent a little cause he used to stress me out in his dark coat and scarf in tropical heat. With Kazuichi because I want them to be friends, and because I seem physically incapable of not putting Kazuichi in every fic. COULD be seen as pre-soudam if you prefer, I didn’t write it like that but it could be if that floats your boat. I do like that ship, I just like other ones with Gundham and kazuichi more. Anyway, hope you enjoy - Circle

Also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33543364

Warning: descriptions of overheating, sickfic. Nothing really bad here.

Kazuichi wasn’t shocked to wake up sprawled across a towel with sand in his hair and a dry mouth, completely alone on the beach. This wasn’t even the first time it had happened. When his insomnia was really bad he’d always doze throughout the next day - for some reason he couldn’t sleep in his warm, comfortable bed at night but could drop off in seconds with his head on the breakfast table or against Hajime’s shoulder. His classmates never bothered to wake Kazuichi if he was somewhere he wouldn’t be in the way, so the beach was a frequent napping spot. They always made sure to leave him in the shade with a water bottle for when he woke, so Kazuichi didn’t mind. It was normal.

What was very much not normal was waking up to Gundham grasping the front of his t-shirt, shaking him violently and yelling some weird gibberish that Kazuichi was still too woolly-headed to understand.

“Wha..?” he muttered, trying to wake up properly. For a second he wondered if he was having a weird lucid dream, because Gundham never usually touched people, especially him - though he was shaking him by the shirt instead of the shoulders.

“You’re gonna stretch out my clothes,” Kazuichi whined, sitting up and scrubbing his eyes.

“As if your tattered garments are a priority right now! Answer me with honesty, lest the demons tear your tongue from your very mouth. Have you encountered the wrath of my Crimson Steel Elephant?” Gundham cried, far too loudly.

“What?” Kazuichi mumbled. “Gundham, I can’t decipher your witchy language when I’ve just woken up.”

“Foolish mortal! This is a dire emergency!”

“Why? What’s happened?”

“I shall repeat myself just once more, so listen well. Have you encountered one of my Dark Devas of Destruction? Maga-Z appears to be missing,” Gundham said. Despite the grandeur and fancy words, Kazuichi could see he did look pretty distressed, holding the three remaining hamsters in his hand as if he was scared they’d dash away too.

“Oooh, okay. You’ve lost a hamster. That’s all you had to say, Gundham. One single sentence and I would’ve understood,” Kazuichi said.

“Do not talk so disparagingly! My Devas are far more powerful than mere hamsters. And Maga-Z has an independent spirit and often attempts to cause chaos alone. I have my concerns for the safety of everyone on this island if Maga-Z wields his destructive power without my guidance.”

Gundham was completely serious, but Kazuichi had to bite his cheeks to stop himself laughing, picturing a hamster storming across the island in a tank, decimating everything. But Gundham was clearly frantic, and Kazuichi was trying to be nicer to him recently, so he sighed.

“Okay, I’ll help you look for him. We should try to get the others to help too.”

“Indeed. You were the first mortal I came across,” Gundham admitted.

“Right, what does Maga-Z look like?” Kazuichi asked, taking a long drink of water. He felt like he’d be running around in the hot sun for a while now and wanted to drink while he had the chance.

“Your memory is abysmal.” Gundham seemed irritated that Kazuichi didn’t know the hamsters by sight.

“Look, I’m not exactly on nodding terms with your ham- Devas, am I? How am I supposed to know which is which? I only recognise the chubby one.” Kazuichi pointed to Cham-P.

Gundham reeled back like he’d been slapped, spluttering in outrage. “How dare you mock his corporeal form! If Cham-P was not so patient, he would obliterate you where you stand for such cheek.”

“Look, I wasn’t trying to body shame your hamster,” Kazuichi said irritably. “I wasn’t mocking. He’s just bigger than the other ones.”

“He is of the Golden variety, of course he is larger in stature. It has nothing to do with his nutritional intake.”

“Are we going to search or not?” Kazuichi snapped. God, talking to Gundham for more than five minutes was exhausting. “Do you know if Maga-Z has favourite places to go or something?”

Kazuichi let Gundham lead and did his very best not to talk to his strange companion as they searched through bushes and inside cupboards, asking any of his classmates they encountered to look too. Gundham muttered to the remaining hamsters, but didn’t try to talk to Kazuichi much either except to order him around - though his grandiose tone was quickly becoming softer and more anxious.

“Maga-Z has never disappeared from my influence for so long,” he mumbled, pulling his scarf to cover his mouth. “I cannot contain this feeling of dread.”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Kazuichi said, surprising himself. “We’ll find him. He’ll be okay.”

Gundham blinked, then stood up straighter. “I assure you, I fear for the inhabitants of the island. Maga-Z will come to no harm.”

But he was worrying, and even Kazuichi could see it. His searching was becoming frantic, his usually careful hands clumsy, so he knocked things off their shelves and forgot to tidy up or close doors behind them. He started running between buildings and bushes, long coat billowing, calling out for his lost hamster.

“Gundham! Hang on a second,” Kazuichi gasped. “I can’t breathe!”

Surprisingly, Gundham did as he was told, leaning against a palm tree in the shade. He wrapped his arms around his chest, pale fists gripping his dark coat. His carefully styled hair was starting to droop in the heat, and his face was very pink. Kazuichi had never seen so much colour in his cheeks before. The three remaining hamsters cowered inside Gundham’s scarf, sensing his anxiety.

Kazuichi went to lean beside him, wiping the sweat off his own forehead. He didn’t know how Gundham managed in his black clothes every day.

“We’ll find him,” Kazuichi said again. “Ibuki and Twogami and Mahiru said they’d look. And Miss Sonia looked like she was going to cry when I told her Maga-Z was missing. She said she wouldn’t rest until he was found.”

“She has a good heart,” Gundham said softly.

“Yeah…” Kazuichi paused. “Hey, you didn’t say anything nice like that about me. I’m the one who’s been running around with you in the baking sun for hours.”

Gundham didn’t respond. He’d been talking a lot less in the past twenty minutes or so, though he’d originally been giving incomprehensible orders to Kazuichi every two minutes. Souda assumed he was just growing more concerned for Maga-Z the longer he was missing - so he was caught off guard when Gundham slumped over and fell limply against him, almost bringing them both to the floor.

“Dude!” Kazuichi managed to catch hold of Gundham. “What are you doing?”

Perhaps Gundham didn’t know what he was doing either, because he had a look of sheer bafflement on his face. He tried to pull himself upright, clinging to the rough bark of the palm tree, but each time he wobbled dangerously and Kazuichi had to grab onto him again.

“What is this..? I appear to be reacting negatively to your mortal world’s atmosphere.” His usually forceful speech came out laboured and slow, and Gundham placed a hand to his lips in surprise.

“What? You’ve been surviving in this atmosphere for ages already,” Kazuichi argued. “What’s up with you? You sound drunk. Can you tell me in plain English?”

“The temperature in this godforsaken land exceeds even the fiery bowels of hell,” Gundham hissed, having to cling to Kazuichi to stay upright.

Kazuichi took a second to disentangle Gundham’s web of fancy words. “Sooo… you’re too hot. I guess that makes sense. Who wears a black coat and a scarf in this heat? And I know you haven’t had any water since we started searching. I’d better take you back to your cabin,” he sighed.

“Unhand me this instant, you fiend!” Gundham growled, though he was the one using Kazuichi like a walking stick. “I could never rest while one of my Dark Devas of Destruction is unguided.”

“Well they’ll all be unguided if you get heatstroke and drop dead,” Kazuichi said. “Half the island is searching for Maga-Z - and I’ll go back out to keep looking as soon as I can, okay?” As much as Gundham might get on Kazuichi’s nerves sometimes, he didn’t want him to get really sick or hurt. He hoped Maga-Z had enough sense not to wander into the sea or something; Gundham would be crushed.

“Hmm.” Gundham didn’t look convinced.

“Your other three ham- I mean Devas probably need to cool down a bit too,” Kazuichi tried.

Another pause. “Very well,” Gundham sighed. “I shall retire to my artificially cooled domain until the effects of this oppressive atmosphere wear off. I trust you to ensure the search continues.” He turned on his heel and tried to walk on his own, staggering alarmingly.

“Hey, careful!” Kazuichi ran to steady him. “I told you I’d help you.”

Gundham slapped his hands away. “Fool! Have you forgotten I am cursed with poison?”

“Oh for God’s sake! Could you just give an inch for once! Why do you make everything so difficult?” Kazuichi cried exasperatedly.

Gundham stuck his chin in the air and started berating Souda again - but before he’d even finished the first sentence his words died away. He blinked several times, looking dazed, swaying where he stood.

“Gundham..?” Kazuichi said nervously.

Gundham didn’t respond. He took another few staggering steps towards his cabin, then crumpled as his knees gave way under him. Kazuichi cried out and hurried to catch him, their foreheads bashing together painfully. Gundham’s skin was clammy and damp, his face looking much more… alive than usual. Kazuichi realised it was because his pale makeup was running.

“Fucking hell, Gundham,” Kazuichi groaned, hauling one of Gundham’s arms around his shoulders. “Just hold onto me, okay? Try not to pass out.”

Surprisingly, Gundham nodded, staring down at his feet like it was taking a huge effort to make them move. It was clear he was trying to be helpful, but Kazuichi had to carry a lot of his weight and they were both breathless by the time they reached Gundham’s cabin. Kazuichi breathed a sigh of relief as the wall of cool air conditioning washed over them.

“Thank God for that,” he mumbled, dumping Gundham onto the bed. It was carefully made, which Kazuichi had never understood; why bother making your bed when you were just going to mess it up every night? The entire room was neat, though the giant cage meant it rather smelled like hamsters. “Right, get your coat and scarf off.”

Gundham glared at him viciously.

“Oh, that’s the thanks I get, is it? Well, no matter how annoying you might be, you’re overheated. No wonder, wearing that stupid dark coat. So get it off.” Kazuichi grabbed Gundham’s arms and yanked the coat sleeves off like he was undressing a sulky toddler. Gundham hissed a series of furious curses at him - one of which sounded like Latin, which was actually pretty impressive - and the three remaining hamsters hopped out onto the bed, startled.

“There. Was that so hard?” Kazuichi said silkily when Gundham was lying on the bed in his shirt and scarf, glaring. Kazuichi tried to take the scarf off too, but Gundham’s hissed threats became more vehement and he gave up. “Fine, keep it on then. Though I don’t think the gothic look is very sustainable in a tropical climate, man. Right, I’m going to get you something to drink.”

Gundham didn’t respond until Kazuichi had returned with a cup full of water from the bathroom. “I shall take advice from one with such abysmal fashion sense as yourself with a grain of salt, fiend,” he said, with as much dignity as he could muster while tomato-red and damp with sweat on his bed.

Kazuichi had to fight very hard not to pour the glass of water directly over Gundham’s head, but he just about managed to help him drink it instead. Then he grabbed the little fan from the bathroom and placed it by Gundham’s bed, dampened a cloth and slapped it rather unceremoniously on his forehead. Gundham yelped and glared again, water trickling down his temples. Good. Serves him right for that earlier comment. “There. Keep your head back or you’ll smudge your eyeliner. And don’t move. I’ll try to find Mikan while I’m looking for Maga-Z, okay?”

Gundham turned his face away, cupping one hand over the Devas protectively. He mumbled something into the material of his scarf.

“What?” Kazuichi asked.

“I said I am grateful for your assistance…”

“Oh.” Kazuichi was surprised. He’d never heard Gundham acknowledge he needed any help before - though maybe that was Kazuichi’s own fault. He’d been the one to start up the whole stupid rivalry thing (which wasn’t ever a rivalry in the first place since the girl wasn’t remotely interested). Maybe this was a step towards a reconciliation.

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna leave you to die,” Kazuichi added awkwardly.

“You are far more tolerable when you do not echo the Dark Queen like a parrot. I once believed you had no real mind of your own,” Gundham said bluntly.

Kazuichi flushed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You made yourself an extension of the Dark Queen. You never disputed her or challenged her. You agreed with her every word.”

“Well… I wanted her to like me,” Kazuichi mumbled. “Look, you don’t need to lecture me about all this. You know I’ve left Sonia alone.”

“Indeed. But you still wish to befriend her?” Gundham asked. Even weak and overheated as he was, his eyes were burning into Kazuichi’s with such a fierce intensity he had to look away.

“That’s her choice. Why are you asking all this?”

“If you still seek a friendly companionship with the Dark Queen, you should not forget she is a mere powerless mortal,” Gundham said. “She does not wish to be treated like she is extraordinary. She does not wish to be around those who only agree to please her.”

Kazuichi stared at him. Was Gundham really offering advice? Was this a weird way to repay him for helping out? It was pretty embarrassing to be given advice on how to make friends from Gundham, who openly distrusted everyone - but he was friends with Sonia. Maybe even something more, Kazuichi honestly didn’t know. He’d tried to stay away from Sonia as much as possibly, partly because he wanted her to be more comfortable and partly because he was pretty fucking embarrassed by his past behaviour. But he would like to be her friend. Nothing else - he knew that wouldn’t ever happen - but friends was good.

“Now make haste!” Gundham suddenly cried, making Kazuichi jump. “Continue the search! I shall rejoin you as soon as I am able.”

“No, rest. Don’t move and especially don’t put your coat on again. I’ll find Maga-Z,” Kazuichi said quickly. He dashed outside before Gundham could protest, groaning as the sticky heat wrapped around him once more.

He started searching again, after taking a quick detour to Mikan’s cabin to ask if she could go check on Gundham and make sure he hadn’t gone out into the sun again. Almost everyone on the island was searching now, splitting off into little groups to cover more ground. Nagito was one of the last to join in - and Hajime and Kazuichi watched in astonishment as he shifted the very first box he touched in the storage room of the old building and pointed. “There he is.”

“WHY didn’t I ask him first?!” Kazuichi practically screamed.

“Ultimate Luck seems a pretty useful talent,” Hajime murmured to him, not wanting Nagito to hear. It’d only start him off on a long self-deprecating rant. “Go on then, Kazuichi. Get him.”

Kazuichi peered behind the box on his hands and knees. Maga-Z was cowering in the corner, fur dishevelled and standing on end. He didn’t look too friendly. “Why do I have to grab the stupid hamster?” Kazuichi whined. “You grab him, Hajime. I don’t like them. They look like they know too much.”

“What are you on about?” Hajime sighed. “It’s just a hamster. You can’t be scared of a hamster, Kazuichi.”

“They’re Gundham’s hamsters. They probably like… worship the devil or something.”

“Hamsters don’t worship anything. They’re just hamsters.”

“Can I go now?” Nagito asked, looking like he was losing braincells just listening to this conversation.

“Yeah, thanks, Nagito. Unless you fancy grabbing this hamster,” Kazuichi said. He looked hopeful, but Nagito left without another word.

“I’ll do it,” Hajime said, exasperated. He reached behind the box to ease his hand underneath Maga-Z, but as soon as his fingers brushed fur, the hamster made a mad dash forward. Directly towards Souda. He squealed and hastily cupped both hands around Maga-Z, holding him at arm’s length. “Oh my God, oh my God, I got him… Oh God, he’s gonna bite me, I know he is,” Kazuichi whined.

“Hey, good job,” Hajime said, surprised. “I didn’t think you’d catch him.”

“I’m not a baby, Hajime,” Kazuichi huffed. Then he whimpered in a very childish way. “Ugh, he’s wriggling around. Can I… put him somewhere? A bag or something? I don’t trust him.”

“Just shove him in your pocket and let’s go. It’s boiling in here. And Gundham will be stressing about Maga-Z. Do you know where he is?”

“I had to put him to bed because he nearly fainted. He was running around in his black coat all day.”

Hajime rolled his eyes. “Nobody on this island has any self-preservation skills.”

“At least Maga-Z is okay.” Kazuichi studied the little ball of fluff cupped in his hands. Somehow his little ink drop eyes did look menacing. “Hey, he really does look like he wanted to go off and cause chaos on his own, doesn’t he?”

Hajime gave Kazuichi a look. “I think you’ve spent too much time with Gundham today.”

Thankfully, Gundham was still in his room and looking a lot better, though still very visibly agitated. His colour had returned to ghostly pale (he must’ve reapplied his makeup) and his eyes were far more focused - they snapped to the door right away when Hajime opened it. When he saw Kazuichi, his hands still full of wriggling hamster, his brow cleared.

“Take him, quick!” Kazuichi said, hurrying over to the bed. “I’m sure he wants to bite me.”

“You fiend,” Gundham murmured, taking the hamster. For a second Kazuichi was offended, thinking Gundham was calling him names when he and Hajime had been nice enough to bring the hamster back, but then he realised Gundham was talking to Maga-Z. He spoke to them in exactly the same way he spoke to his classmates, no silly mushy voices like most people did with cute animals.

“I can only pray you have not caused too much destruction while unsupervised,” he murmured, smoothing Maga-Z’s fur. The hamster sat up to greet him like a little puppy, and Kazuichi noticed for the first time that Maga-Z’s cheeks were bulging.

“Did he really run off just to steal food?” Kazuichi groaned. “We’ve been so stressed and he was just eating!”

“Ah yes, a feast befitting the magnificent Crimson Steel Elephant,” Gundham said, gently placing Maga-Z with the other hamsters. They circled him joyfully, happy to be reunited too.

Kazuichi threw his hands up exasperatedly. “I give up. You’re all nuts.”

Gundham turned to Kazuichi, his face solemn. “I am deeply indebted to you, as is everybody who resides on this island. I cannot speak of the terrors that may have occurred if Maga-Z was without guidance. I shall spread the story of your triumph to every other mortal here so they can show you due gratitude,” he said.

“Oh… Thanks, man.” Kazuichi could see he meant well, but the thought of Gundham telling everyone Kazuichi saved the island from a hamster’s destruction was pretty embarrassing. He could already see Hajime smirking out of the corner of his eye.

“You should stay inside a bit longer though,” Hajime said. “Just in case. You need to make sure you’re totally cooled down.”

“Indeed. I have had ample excitement for one day,” Gundham said.

“Me too,” Kazuichi mumbled.

“If you’re feeling better, you can tell everyone about Kazuichi saving the island over dinner,” Hajime said, grinning. Kazuichi glared at him.

“Asshole,” he muttered as soon as they were outside Gundham’s cabin.

Hajime burst out laughing. “Maybe he’ll make you sound really gallant and fearless when he tells it.”

“Then everyone will know it’s a lie right away. And anyway, Nagito saw what happened. Even if you don’t give away the real story, he’ll definitely tell.”

“Probably. But you did save his hamster, even if you weren’t that fearless about it. Is there a truce between you two now?”

“I suppose so. He’s not so bad. Crazy and dramatic and difficult… but okay,” Kazuichi admitted. He paused. “I don’t know what half of the words he uses mean though.”

“Yeah,” Hajime agreed. “I don’t either.”

#super danganronpa two #danganronpa 2 #kazuichi souda #gundham tanaka #four dark devas of destruction #overheating #Gundham’s lines were ridiculously hard #mod circle

[arigatouiris]

perhaps... // sanemi x reader

Author’s Note: Another vvvvv self-indulgent one shot for my soft babie Sanemi! Idk I just can’t see him as anything but a softie after that episode with Nezuko~ Obviously, this has Kimetsu manga spoilers, so please be warned! Sanemi deserves the world, honestly. I love him SO MUCH.

Word count: 5662 words

Pairing: Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Warnings: angst, pining, somewhat of a crackhead reader?, fluff, spoilers for the manga, mentions of blood and sex

A lot of people were grateful to the Hashira for finally defeating Muzan. However, the fact of the matter remained—after the war was done, they had no place to go if they already didn’t have a home. Most demon slayers sought shelter within the butterfly estate and the wisteria estates till they could get back on their feet, but Sanemi wasn’t the sort to do that at all.

It wasn’t pride or ego, he simply wanted to get away from it all. To learn of troubles that weren’t demons, to go see sights he hadn’t before—live so that his brother and the family he had lost could see life through his eyes.

The sudden optimism flushed into his system upon seeing Nezuko, after all. The child reminded him nothing of Genya, yet there were instances that he’d wanted to cherish. Perhaps, every little sibling had that in common, the aura that makes you want to protect them. 

It’s not that he suddenly wanted to explore the world, it’s just that Sanemi wanted to feel excluded in inclusivity. He wanted to live a life that resembled a normalcy he had only dared to dream about in the distant future; but now was the distant future, and the suddenness of it all threw him off guard. He wanted to go a place and feel disliked because he was a man who didn’t look like he could be trusted; he wanted to go to a place and meet kids who would give him weird nicknames and maybe one day find out that he’s actually not the monster that they thought he was.

No part of Sanemi dreamed he would one day find love, but perhaps, the universe wished that for him by sending him you.

Upon moving to a tiny village near what used to be his old home, he met you—a farmer who worked on a land that did not belong to you, offering people smiles and sometimes, cashew fruits to the kids (when your landlord wasn’t looking). People generally liked you, you seemed the sort of person one couldn’t dislike because you radiated warmth with every action. Sanemi tried to stay away from you, but his arrival to the village brought attention—which was unavoidable considering people knew he was a Hashira. How they knew, he would not know, he considered himself to be a rather secretive person; but the mere mention that he once slayed demons alerted you.

You approached him the second day he settled down and handed him a basket full of produce—some rice, persimmons, cashew fruits (of course, one needn’t know you to know you liked these), adzuki beans, and pickled plums. 

     “I don’t need it—”

     “Oh, come on!” You pushed it forward onto his hand, causing him to pop a vein in annoyance, “Don’t be closed off, Hashira-san! You saved our lives, after all!”

He didn’t like to think of it that way, but that was what he had done. Not directly, but he had assisted to bring down one of the biggest menaces the world had seen. It wasn’t that he was incredibly proud of the fact; this accomplishment had taken from him more than it had given, and if Sanemi was ever given a choice, if he was ever given a choice...

He didn’t thank you, though you didn’t leave too easily. You started talking to him about some gibberish that he obviously wasn’t paying attention to, after which he simply headed back inside his hut, sitting against the wall, trying to catch a bit of sleep. He liked that he could sleep without the worry or fear hanging over his mind—he was free at last to be lazy, and what a privilege this seemed before.

     “I’ll bring you more things later!”

Sanemi scoffed, “Listen, I don’t need you to bother. Buzz off, and leave me alone.”

     “Ooh, you’re the strong and rude type, aren’t you?” You folded your arms in front of your chest, shooting him an idiotic smile, “I’m willing to bet your heart’s soft.”

It didn’t take him long to throw a stone to your side in a way to say ‘fuck off’. You giggled before waving at him and leaving, but something told him you would only return again; what kind of idiot you were, he did not know, but no part of him was grateful for your smiles knocking on his door when all he clearly needed was some peace and quiet.

Sanemi had money; the demon slaying profession had given him enough of money that he carried around. People would often consider it stupid to carry a large amount of money around, but it was Sanemi, and most people did not bother him—and no thief dared attempt stealing from him. He might not have a reason to rage at anyone, but Sanemi’s life was pent-up rage, nestled in his heart in the form of yearning and sorrow that he could not, for the life of him, unravel.

A few days later, Sanemi ran out of the rice you had given him, which meant he had to go to the village to buy things. It wasn’t that the village was overtly welcoming to him, but they left him alone and that was perhaps what he wanted. In his spare time, he trained, he didn’t know for what, and he would hunt. Sanemi learned how to cook better than he ever had before, and thought of his brother, thought of Masachika, and sometimes, if he dared, he thought of his mother.

     “Shinazugawa-san!”

He clicked his tongue when he noticed your head pop into the entrance of his house, a wicked smile plastered on your face. 

     “What is it now, woman?”

It wasn’t that he disliked you. He didn’t want anything to disrupt what was left of his life; he wanted to stay here till he got bored, and leave when the time was right. Getting to know you would only complicate things. But, why was it that you were hellbent on constantly checking up on him and speaking to him? Despite the fact that he looked so scary and intimidating all the time, despite the fact that he was rude to you almost always, you always trod on.

     “Would you like some ohagi?”

His eyes twitch at your words, cursing at himself for revealing to you that he liked the sweet the other day. It wasn’t that he explicitly told you, but it was simply that he was eating it the day before and you saw him—trodding on and making a big deal out of him liking a sweet that you apparently knew how to make really well.

     “Stop bothering me.”

     “Eh? You don’t look busy to me.”

     “But I am, woman. Leave me alone!” He barked, only to have you giggle.

     “I’ll leave it here. Have them, okay? You saved our lives, after all.”

There you go again, bringing it up like it was something to be proud of. Sanemi clicked his tongue before lying down, showing you his back. He was done with dealing with you for the day, and somehow, you understood that what you had said did not resonate well with him right then. You blinked a couple of times before pressing your lips together and leaving him to himself.

It wasn’t that you intentionally wanted to bother him. You were clearly aware that he did not grasp the affections of your fellow villagers, but you did not see a bad man in Shinazugawa Sanemi. You did not have any family to compare him to, but there was something strikingly similar to Sanemi and a particular demon slayer that had saved your life a few years ago. The boy was definitely younger than you, but scars adorned his face as well, and he did not use swords like most demon slayers that you had heard of.

Looking up to the sky, you walked to your special spot—a spot that you had reserved for yourself and your ‘little friends’. You hoped to tell Shinazugawa about this someday, because some part of you believed he would understand it better than the villagers did.

Maybe I should invite him? You thought, pressing your lips together into a line. What’s the harm? 

You made a U-turn and headed to Sanemi’s, to find him asleep. Your eyes wandered on his scarred face, his scarred chest, his well-toned muscles. You noticed that his right hand was missing its index and middle fingers, and you believed it was something the profession he had chosen had taken from him. Maybe, I should stop reminding him he saved our lives, you thought, before absentmindedly reaching forward to touch the man’s face.

You almost yelled when he suddenly caught your arm mid-air, and his eyes shot open at your blushing form. 

     “What the hell are you trying to do?”

You gulped, “T-There was something I wanted to show you.”

     “Not interested, woman. Leave me alone—”

     “Please, no one in the village understands. I think,” You frowned a bit, which was unusual because this was perhaps the first time he had seen you frown. “I think you’ll understand.”

Maybe, it was the way you said it. Sanemi noticed how hesitant you looked, but when he thought of it, you were perhaps the only one who was even bringing up his demon slaying in conversation. He sighed before sitting up, ignoring your sudden happy expression and waving his hand at you, telling you by action to lead the way.

You lead him into the forest behind the farm, and in a small clearing, Sanemi saw a bunch of rocks embedded on the ground, facing the sky. Upon one glance, he could tell that they were makeshift graves, but he wondered what the hell you were trying to show him. 

Why was he the only one who would understand?

     “What the—”

     “I met this boy a few years ago,” You said, turning to him, kneeling down by the graves. “He had scars on his face just like you.”

There were many boys with facial scars. But, for some reason, Sanemi kept listening, his heart pounding at your every word.

     “He told me about this kind brother he had. The one he wanted to meet and rekindle his relationship with. He told me that his kind brother made him want to get very strong, and from the looks of it, he really was strong. He saved my life, after all.”

He didn’t want to believe it, at first. He didn’t want to believe that you had somehow met Genya. And that Genya had saved your life. He did not want to believe that it was Genya you were talking about, but why did this seem so familiar?

     “These graves are of kids with no family. Like me. I didn’t know these children, but my heart breaks when I think of them being left behind like that. This demon slayer boy helped me put up these graves. He told me he lost his family to a demon too,”

Sanemi’s breath was stuck in his throat as he watched you carefully.

     “His mother was turned. And his kind brother saved his life by killing her. It must have been a nightmare.” 

You weren’t saying that out of pity, Sanemi saw the dead look in your eyes—the lack of understand was present, but there was no pity, no sympathy, just... plainness. Somehow, he appreciated that.

     “I don’t know what losing a family feels like because I’ve never had one,” You said, looking at the graves now. “But, that boy carried so much pain in his heart and so much love for his brother that it made me want to know.”

His lips quivered but he swallowed any emotion that threatened to spill out. You turn to spot him staring at you, expressionless, hardened, and you smiled. 

     “I’m sorry I keep troubling you,” You put your hands behind your back, “You just remind me of that boy, that’s all. He had kind eyes, like you.”

*

It was a few days after that did Sanemi notice that you were being treated harshly by your fellow villagers. He was getting ready to move, but he didn’t know what to tell you. After that night near the graves, he had grown to tolerate your company, but your visits were fewer than before, you gave him a lot less produce whenever you dropped by (not that he wanted you to give him any, at all).

That night, he told you he was leaving. What he expected was a muffled reaction asking him to stay or beg him not to leave.

But your eyes were wide, a growing smile formed on your lips and you looked at him and only him, the gaze almost weakened his knees.

     “I’ll come with you.”

It was a simple sentence but for some reason, Sanemi thought this one sentence could destroy every bit of strength that was left in his bones. He had assisted in ending the reign of demons, but there you were, giving him a determined expression, your hair disheveled, your kimono old from having been washed too many times, and your hands behind your back.

Your determination could end him.

And for some reason, Sanemi wouldn’t mind letting that happen.

     “You’re a fucking idiot.” He snapped, eyes glaring at her face. 

     “Shinazugawa-san,” You said, sweetly, “There’s no need for you to be harsh anymore,”

His eyes widened.

     “There are no demons left,” You were twirling on the ground you were standing on, “There’s nothing that should cause you to hide your softness.”

     “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

You approached him, looking directly into his eyes, capturing his breath in a way he never thought possible. Sanemi’s eyes widened but you remained put.

     “During times like this, Shinazugawa-san,” You smiled softly, “Being soft is a much harder task.”

In an instant, you took his right hand in yours, which he surprisingly doesn’t push away. His heart was beating rapidly and there wasn’t much he could do. Did he want you with him? Did he like your company? What would it be? What could he do?

The way you were looking at him... Damn it, there was no use pushing you away.

He took you to the wisteria estate, which was the closest to the village; Sanemi wanted some relief before heading to a place he had never been to. A hot bath, some good food, and a good night’s sleep on a futon—things he had missed. However, these were things you never had access to, and seeing you try them for the first time warmed his heart.

He found himself talking to you, sitting by the engawa, now that he had learned Genya saved your life. A life that his brother had saved, it was something special whether he would like to admit it or not. He told you about Genya and your eyes widen instantly, recognizing the story, the name attached to the boy, and tears fill your eyes when you learned of what happened.

You couldn’t say anything, you almost couldn’t breathe—and it was Sanemi’s first time seeing you cry. 

For some reason, the sight warmed his heart because there was another person feeling sorrow over the loss of his brother. Genya really was kind, Genya was perhaps everything that Sanemi one day wished he was. And here you were, crying for the boy because he was all those things. 

Without a second thought, Sanemi’s hand rushed to the side of your cheek, a soft smile sat on his lips as he watched you—the woman whose life his brother had saved—cry because Genya had died. You automatically leaned into his touch, almost as if this wasn’t new, you liked the warmth his hand presented against your cheek and it felt oddly like home. 

Huh? You thought, opening your eyes to see Sanemi smile at you. What is home, anyway?

     “Shinazugawa-san,” You sniffed, “You really are so kind.”

*

Sanemi had just given up trying to make you go away. In fact, he had come to accept it, in fact, he was slowly getting used to her being around him. A few days later, you and Sanemi set off in another little journey; where you began to wonder what it was that Sanemi was looking for, and why it was that you followed him so.

Perhaps, you wanted to feel that feeling of home again.

You two were walking across rice fields, the path was rocky yet it was as straight as it could be—and you were attempting to walk along a straight line, just for the heck of it. Sanemi grunted at what you were trying to do, but kept his nose out of it. If you fell down, it would be on you; however, when you did trip, you felt a strong grip grab you by your elbow, preventing your fall. Your eyes were wide at the sudden contact, but you felt grateful nonetheless. 

     “Careful, idiot.” 

You smiled at him, before snaking your arm around his, ignoring the growing redness against Sanemi’s cheeks. You cushioned yourself against him and hummed, suddenly liking the feeling of his warm yet toned stature against your soft and fragile form.

     “Sanemi-san,” He had no idea when you started calling him by his first name, but he didn’t mind, “I’ll follow you anywhere if you help me out like that!”

He pushed you away roughly before grunting at you, angered by the sound of your giggling—but ignoring the butterflies swarming in his chest at how happy you looked. Suddenly, all Sanemi could feel was a gnawing sense of fear cascade in his heart, his eyes wide at your laughing face, before he looked away, masking his emotions behind a veil of annoyance.

The fear was familiar; it was the very same feeling he had felt just before losing someone. This fear was the reason he kept pushing Genya away, before it was too late. It was this fear that had turned him into someone he could not even recognize, he was not the Sanemi he was born as. It was this fear that had turned good old kind ‘Nemi into Hashira Shinazugawa Sanemi, brutal, arrogant, brash and ruthless.

     “What’s wrong?”

Yet, there you were; figuring him out as if he was meant to be read so easily. As if all the walls he put up were no good. You were like a rabbit that bounced into areas it was not supposed to, yet Sanemi’s wolf-like stature did little to intimidate you. 

     “None of your business.”

You pressed your lips together before pouting once, pulling away and staring at his face. 

     “Come on, tell me!”

He gave you a good, long look before understanding something for himself. The woman his brother had saved, it was fate that had brought you to him, and he blamed fate for making you an idiot that he was falling in love with.

It was not hard for Sanemi to accept his feelings; which was what made it so easy for him to accept death, accept the death of his family, accept the death of his comrades. Sanemi might come across as someone who would do anything to run away from his emotions, but he was not the sort. It was because his emotions were so well sought after, because he knew the damage his emotions could cause him, did he put up walls so high.

Yet, how in the world were you getting through?

The two of you reached a tiny village clearing, where its people were more than happy to welcome the both of you. The elders mistook you for a couple, causing you to turn beet red, and earning no response from Sanemi whatsoever. Your eyes widened at his seemingly nonchalant demeanor, but you half expected him to deny that you were anything to him at all.

A small smile sat at your lips before trying very hard to calm your heart.

Sanemi and you were given a regular sized hut, three or four villagers pouring in to give you gifts in the form of provisions and leather. You were thrilled, thinking that this was perhaps the home the two of you needed, however, something didn’t sit right in Sanemi’s mind. Whenever a demon was nearby, he’d get the sense of dread spreading all over the air around him; it would be hard to breathe.

Sanemi slowly felt a tad bit suffocated at the ‘kindness’ the villagers were showing the both of you. 

Once inside your hut, Sanemi notices you were watching him as he unpacked—confusing him and shutting him up. He knew that if you had something to say, then you’d say it, but if you were just going to watch him, then he’d let you.

     “You didn’t correct them when they called me your wife.”

It was a statement; Sanemi could hear the happiness behind it, and didn’t understand why you were so peppy about the entire ordeal. Something seemed off, weren’t you suspicious? Why were you so ready to accept kindness, even from strangers?

Ah, Sanemi chuckled, it’s because you were like that.

     “What’s the use explaining anything to them anyway?”

     “Who am I to you then, Sanemi-san?”

Sanemi looked at you now with the wildness of a wolf, his gaze penetrating your very soul. Yet, you didn’t look away; you may have been the most timid creature in the world, but with Sanemi you were fierce, you were everything that he wasn’t, in a world that knew only how to kill. He felt the strange feeling bubble in his chest, before forcing himself to look anywhere else. But, your gaze was fixed on him and even if his eyes were to roam every single inch of his room away from you, he was still being burned by your intensity.

     “Do you like boar?”

You gasped, clapping your hands together, “I love boar! Are you going to hunt for me, Sanemi-san?”

He sighed, scratching the back of his head, “Yeah, sure. Beats sitting here being stared at.”

You pouted at his words, “Your skills at turning the conversation away are top-notch!”

All you could hear was his chuckle.

*

The fear continued to bubble in Sanemi’s heart.

He understood well enough more than anyone else that it wasn’t the fear of the demons that was the most terrifying. Nothing was more frightening than a fear you cannot name, and right then, Sanemi felt scared and couldn’t for the life of him understand why.

Was it because of you? Was it because he could lose you in an instant? And he would feel the same—empty, regret and sorrow that he felt when his brother died in his arms? He couldn’t compare the same pain with the hypothetical one, but the mere thought of losing you left him breathless. It was not blind anxiety, here it was possibility; because Sanemi had always lost everything.

In his entire life, keeping something for himself was a dream he knew he couldn’t achieve. This was perhaps why he kept roaming from one village to another; until he met you. You tagged along, making things all the more complicated. Yet, he liked the sound of your voice in the morning, he enjoyed your company and the sound of your laughter rang in his mind even when you were not conscious. And perhaps, the fact that he was in love with you did losing you become more of a possibility, and perhaps, this was what the fear was addressing. That despite not wanting to get close to anyone, you’d managed to crawl into what was left of his sanity, and make yourself feel at home.

Despite everything he had done to ensure he doesn’t lose anyone again, he was back in the most vulnerable state of affairs. This left him weak, ready to be pounced at—but, like you said, there were no more demons. 

But, the mistake people often make is associate an evil with an evident form of it. Most often, evil lurks in corners that one would not notice.

Sanemi’s growing dread only made sense once he returned to you. He believed you’d either be making rice or sleeping because you slept more than you spoke sometimes. He liked the sight of your light snores, but what he came home to knocked the wind out of him.

There you lay, wincing, crying, four mean huddled around you—a knife was lodged in your left thigh, and it was clear from the smell of it that you had lost a lot of blood. This is why the village was welcoming, his mind told him. The second he was away, they pounced on you—because you were the weaker link. 

     “Nemi... Nemi....” You cried, turning to his form at the entrance, clutching your leg because your life did depend on it.

All his faces were designed to express rage or loathing. Now that something had happened which really deserved a face, he had none to celebrate it with. He quietly unsheathed his sword before killing everyone inside the hut, grabbing the one bag of money that they had come for, and picking you up like you were made of feathers, Sanemi rushed away from the village. He didn’t know where to go, but he was certain of the outcome.

As he was running, his eyes leaking tears either from the harshness of the wind or... or because his insides were turbulent, he could not hear your soft whimpers. Only when your shaking hand touched his chin did he pause, look at you—your lower lip trembling, your face deathly pale, your forehead sweaty, and your eyes were struggling to see.

     “I won’t...” What were you trying to say? “I won’t die... Nemi... I won’t...”

His eyes widened at your words. That’s it. That was what he was most afraid of. And here you were, addressing it as you were dying.

No.

Taking a deep breath, Sanemi held on to you tighter before rushing to the butterfly estate. It would take him almost an hour to get there, especially if he used his ability, but he was willing to take that chance. The knife was still in your leg, he was unsure if you would hold out till then, but he wanted to trust you.

     “I promise... I won’t die, Nemi...” You breathed, your hand clutching the side of his collar. 

On reaching the estate, Sanemi quickly walked inside, ignoring the fact that his entire torso was drenched with your blood, you were barely conscious, your hands limp at your side. Aoi, the blue haired girl who was in charge of healing people in there, immediately rushed to his side, asking the others to take you inside.

Sanemi wanted to follow, but the girl stopped him. It was then he took a long hard look at himself, your blood having turned him red entirely. He felt sobs knock at the base of his throat but he wasn’t going to cry. You weren’t dying, you had made a promise, you were not going to die.

But, what if you did?

What if he lost you too?

Sanemi was so sure he would just follow you. There was nothing for him to live for. There was nothing left if not for you.

He never realized he was praying; he never realized that he could. He sat by the engawa after changing into regular extra clothes, and waited for Aoi to come say anything regarding your status. 

I won’t die, Nemi.

You had called him Nemi. The last time someone had called him that, they died. He couldn’t help but correlate.

     “Shinazugawa-san,” Aoi’s voice sounded softly from the side, “You can go see her. She’s asking for you.”

That was fast. Sanemi’s eyes widened.

     “She’s so strong, I... I don’t understand how she can be awake after losing all that blood. We’ve closed the wound on her thigh, she just needs bedrest now. She’ll be fine in a few days. We’re lucky that the knife didn’t hit the bone.”

Were we lucky? Or were you?

Why was it that Sanemi felt the luckiest?

He rushed to where you were, noticing you lying down, eyes were fixed at the door. Were you waiting for him? Idiot, he thought before going to you, leaning over you by the bed. There was no one else in the room apart from the both of you, and all Sanemi could think of was how you had kept your promise.

Maybe...

His eyes were wet with tears now.

Maybe you could stay, after all...

Aoi closed the door behind her, wanting to give the two some space. What she didn’t tell Sanemi was that you refused to take any anaesthesia just so that you could stay awake for him.

You were crazy. And maybe he was too. She could never say.

     “I told you I won’t die.”

Sanemi’s hand strokes your cheek before leaning down and kissing you, squarely. You kissed back as if you expected it, your soft hand covering the side of his face. You couldn’t tell if he had done this with other women, but the kiss felt so strong—it reflected who Sanemi was, as a person. It was the kind of kiss that would inspire stars to climb into the sky and light up the world.

Upon pulling back, Sanemi’s gaze weakened you, but made your heart stronger.

     “I love you, Nemi. My Nemi. My kind Nemi.”

He wanted to break something, but this was his reaction to most things soft. However, instead of breaking something, Sanemi instead chose to kiss you again. You were darkness and he was darkness and there was never anything like this before; only darkness and his lips upon yours. You didn’t even want to speak, his mouth was over yours again. Suddenly, you felt a wild thrill, a thrill you’ve never known. Perhaps it was joy, fear, madness, excitement, surrender to arms that were too strong, lips too bruising, fate that moved too fast. You could sense his care when he practically refused to weigh on you, your leg untouched, your injury ignored yet strictly taken care of. When Sanemi made love to you, it was his way of saying he loved you.

He assumed you’d fall asleep after something that intense. He lay next to you, bare chested, the blanket covering only your tiny frame; you were laying on his left hand, with him cradling you from the right. You nuzzled into him more, liking the warmth, and also because you were practically naked under the sheets. He knew you were inches away from falling asleep, which was perhaps what motivated him to speak.

     “I love you,” His voice was a whisper, “But I... I can’t lose you.”

A second later, he heard you groan.

     “Don’t be stupid.”

Sanemi lay still, vision blurring, and in that moment, he heard his heart break. It was a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower's stem.

Whoever said that heartbreak was only supposed to be sad? Sanemi’s heart broke at how easily you accepted him, and it was every reason worth breaking. 

*

The next time Sanemi had a nightmare of losing you, he felt a mild slap on his cheek, causing his eyes to open, his lips separate in a gasp. Staring into tiny purple eyes, glaring at him, Sanemi realized he had angered his four-year old girl.

     “You were groaning again, ‘tou-chan!”

     “Sorry, chibi-chan.”

     “Don’t call me chibi-chan!”

His daughter was sitting on his chest as he slept; he turned and noticed it was already mid-day, and he wondered why you hadn’t woken him up yet. Getting up, Sanemi held the back of his chid’s form so as to not have her fall off, and he sat up straight.

     “Where’s your mother?”

     “Scolding nii-chan.”

Sanemi groaned, “What did he do now?”

Your little girl shrugged, so as to say she doesn’t know, which only made the father all the more curious. Sanemi put the girl down before walking toward the entrance of the house that you two shared. He noticed how you were yelling at your eldest boy, who looked glum with a large frown on his face. That’s why you didn’t wake me, he thought, scratching the back of his head.

     “How many times should I tell you that picking on people isn’t how you tell them you like them?”

Your son scoffed, “Whatever.”

     “Don’t be stupid!”

Sanemi felt his daughter tug at his left hand, which caused him to turn to her with a questioning gaze.

     “Pick me up, ‘tou-chan!”

He instantly picked her up, with her weighing as much as a flower did. Immediately, the child’s fingers traced the outline of his scars, bringing a soft smile to his face when he saw the same smile being reflected back in his daughter’s features. She leaned in and kissed his scar, forcing him to still his movements.

     “Aren’t my scars scary?”

The girl shook her head as if it was the most preposterous thing she had ever heard. Perhaps, it was. He’d never know.

     “They’re so awesome!”

Sanemi raised his eyebrows. A moment later, your son who was being scolded came over to stand beside his father.

     “Nii-chan, aren’t 'tou-chan’s scars awesome?”

As if the boy was suddenly taken out of his stupor, his dark eyes widened, and a large grin plastered on his face.

     “Yeah! ‘kaa-chan told us the story behind them!”

Sanemi narrowed his eyes.

     “Did she now... What was the story?”

     “You saved the world!”

Sanemi’s eyes widened when he spotted you, leaning against the entrance of the door, a wicked grin on your face. Sanemi scoffed before looking away from you, you and your idiotic tease of a personality. A hand rested on his son’s head and he cradled his daughter by his left waist. 

But for a second, he swore he heard a voice whisper behind him,

‘My Nemi is the kindest’

#sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #wind pillar #wind pillar x reader #kny #hashira #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi #shinaguzawa sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #shinazugawa sanemi x reader #kimetsu no yaiba manga spoilers #kny spoilers #genya shinazugawa #shinazugawa #reader insert

[lire-casander]

Can I request "talking in your sleep" for Judd/Grace?! 💖

[1,345 words] [teen and up audiences] [beta'ed by @alwaysablossom] [title from walking the wire by imagine dragons] [fluff, pregnancy, sleep talking, good things happen bingo] [written for the prompt talking in your sleep from my good things happen bingo card]

[when grace begins talking in her sleep, judd knows that something is amiss — she only does that when she's stressed][grace ryder, judd ryder]

[written for @sneetchestoo's birthday! I hope you have an amazing day, bee, you deserve the world. happy happy birthday!]

take your hand when thunder roars | on ao3

Judd wakes up thirsty at some point in the middle of the night. Blindly, he fumbles for his glasses before even sitting up on the bed, casting a quick glance towards Grace, who's sleeping soundly beside him, facing the opposite wall. He smiles, refraining from touching her in order to not wake her up. He moves to bounce his feet off the bed when he hears it.

"I don't want chocolate, Judd," she mumbles, not even moving. "I want fries."

"Excuse me?" He turns to her, one eyebrow quirked up in question, only to watch her snuggle closer between the sheets. He shrugs and moves out of the bed, out of the room, in his quest to fetch himself a glass of water.

When he comes back, Grace is still on her side, sleeping soundly. Judd doesn’t pay it any more attention, sliding into bed and promptly falling asleep.

It happens again, a few nights later. Judd wakes up disoriented, not truly aware of what's woken him. He frowns, not sure what to do, and it's then that he hears it.

"Judd," Grace is calling.

He sits up on the bed, hovering over her as he checks in on her. Grace is still sleeping, this time facing him, and she's reaching out in her sleep. Judd gently grabs her hand and squeezes it, silently letting her know that she isn't alone. He thinks that maybe she's having a bad dream — those had been a constant after the explosion that took the old 126, and they had come back full force after their accident on the bridge.

"It’s okay," he mutters, leaning closer to her and using his free hand to brush away a few strands of hair that have escaped the tight scarf she keeps her curls in when she goes to bed. "I'm here, you're safe."

"Don't forget the oranges and the tangerines," she says clearly. "We're out of cheese sticks as well."

Judd bites down the laugh that bubbles in his throat, humming instead. Grace had warned him about this so many years ago — whenever she's stressed out, she talks in her sleep. It's been some years since she last had an outburst as clear as this one; it's usually gibberish and mumbled sounds, never complete words. The mirth gives way to the worry in his mind, though. If she's talking in her sleep, it means something is stressing her to the point of sneaking into her sleep.

"I'll make sure to get those," he promises her. He knows she won't reply, as these conversations are usually one-sided, but it still irks him to no end to leave her words unanswered.

"I love you," she whispers before slipping through his grasp and turning to her other side.

Judd shakes his head in amusement and lies down again.

The thought of his wife being stressed doesn't leave his mind in the following days. He knows he might be worrying about something that isn't all that big, but Grace has enough on her plate as it is — the pregnancy, the accident, Billy’s attempt at dismantling the new 126. Judd knows his wife is strong, but sometimes even Grace Ryder can reach a breaking point.

Judd tries to talk subtly about anything that might be worrying her in the morning, but Grace brushes it off as she drones about the grocery list and how they need oranges, tangerines and cheese sticks. She dutifully notes those down on her paper, pining it to the fridge with a magnet so neither of them miss the list. Judd gives up after his fourth attempt at making small talk, since she's too engrossed in her sweep of the kitchen to pinpoint exactly what they're lacking. Judd files all his questions for another day.

He doesn’t notice Grace speaking in her sleep for a few weeks — at least while he gets to sleep with her and he's not pulling forty-eight-hour shifts because Paul's been injured during a call and they need all the help they can get. It's true that, whenever he's home, he's too exhausted to even wake up in the middle of the night. He's content with opening his eyes first thing in the morning and seeing Grace pressed against him, her smaller hands resting on his waist as he himself holds Grace as close to him as possible.

She comes back to her mumbling soon after, a few days before the ultrasound appointment when they're going to find out if they're having a boy or a girl, if they're lucky. Judd can't sleep, images of the last call of his shift replaying in his mind as he stares at the ceiling in the absolute darkness in their room. He's in the middle of rethinking the decisions his new Captain made during the call, when Grace moves in her sleep, turning around and snuggling closer into Judd’s arms.

"You're strong," she mumbles, voice drowned in the fabric of his t-shirt.

He chuckles when he realizes she's still asleep. "I'm supposed to be," he replies.

"I love you," she continues, in her usual fashion of not engaging since the conversation is always one-sided. "You're my strong man."

"That I am," he tells her. Grace buries her face deeper in his chest and sighs contentedly. "I love you too."

Grace sighs again and falls back into a silent sleep.

The next morning, Judd is waiting for his wife at the kitchen island, a mug of tea on the counter as he sips on his own coffee. Grace isn't allowed to have caffeine now — something she's bitched about for so long, Judd even thought he’d never hear the end of it — but she's settled for tea lately and Judd is more than happy to provide. When Grace enters the kitchen, her face lights up with a smile.

"Good morning, love," he greets, pushing the tea her way.

"Good morning to you too," she says, grabbing the mug with both hands and inhaling deeply. "I love you."

"I know," he tells her, winking. "You told me so last night." At her confused stare, Judd lets out a hearty laugh. "You've been talking in your sleep," he explains.

"Oh, Judd," she whispers, eyes wide and sorrow in her features. "I'm sorry, I didn’t want to keep you up. I wasn’t even aware I was back to—"

"Hey, it's okay," he reassures her. "You didn’t keep me up, I promise. I find it cute."

She blushes, looking down at her hands. "I'm still sorry."

"Are you nervous about something?" Judd questions. "I remember you telling me that this only happens when you're stressed."

"No?" she replies. It comes out like a question, and Judd can't help the worry rising inside of him.

"Try that again?"

"It’s nothing," she begins. "It's silly, really. I'm just—" Grace looks up into his eyes, and Judd hopes his stare is as calming as he intends it to be. "I just worry about the baby. That's all. It's not that there's something wrong," she rushes to say when Judd frowns at her. "I guess it's just me starting to be a mama bear."

Judd feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He'd been expecting anything, except this. He smiles softly, reaching out to cover Grace's hands with his larger ones, and squeezes. They're in this together, and he knows there'll be times to freak out, but as long as they have each other’s back, they'll be fine.

"It’s normal to worry about Peach," he says, the name he's been calling their baby in his mind slipping out. "I worry about you two a lot."

"Peach, huh?" Grace teases him.

"What? I have the inkling we're having a baby girl!"

Grace laughs, the tension visibly leaving her body, and Judd joins her with his laughs.

Three days later, they find out that they, indeed, are having a baby girl. Judd calls dibs on the name, and Grace just smiles when he begins telling everyone that little Peach is going to be a part of their family very soon.

#happy birthday bee! #you asked #you ask and lire answers #grace ryder #judd ryder #grace ryder/judd ryder #fluff #pregnancy #sleep talking #good things happen bingo

[thiswasinevitableid]

for the mermay fills: indruck, 25, any rating

Here you go! I went with SFW for this one.

The thing no one tells you about journeys of self-discovery is that they’re really fucking boring.

Duck’s been on this highway for days, and another highway for the days before that. He wanted to see the desert in the spring, but it’s involved fewer super-blooms and more butterflies dying on his windshield than he hoped.

Now he’s on some two lane strip of barely paved road in the vast expanse between Las Vegas and Reno. Green catches his eye to his left; a ribbon of well-watered trees shines in the distance. Closer to the road are dueling picket signs shoved into the ground, some demanding the preservation of the tiny pocket of wetlands and others proclaiming this the site of the Hungry Man Casino expansion. The signs continue all the way to the tiny town of Kepler, where he pulls into a gas station in front of Tarkesian’s General Store.

After filling the tank and chatting with the owner and his incongruous New York accent, Duck decides to stop in Kepler for the night. The road north is mostly open range, and he’s already had one near miss with a cow on a pitch black stretch of asphalt. The lone place to rest is the Reconciliation Motel Court and Casino. He gets his key, pulls up to the chipped door, and flops onto the burnt orange bedspread for a nap.

He doesn’t wake up until eight at night, wondering what the hell is wrong with the other guests that they’re all playing music loud enough for him to hear. He counts at least six separate voices, their overlap meaning the lyrics turn to gibberish. It’s still hot and stuffy in the room, and maybe outside will be quiet. He pulls on his swim trunks and rash guard; a peek out the window at the pool shows it’s empty and that, plus the general sparseness of the parking lot, makes him confident enough that he won’t bump into anyone and try to make up some lie about being shy or mormon or whatever the hell else would explain a dude keeping a top on to swim.

But, just his luck, when he latches the pool gate shut, he discovers he’s not alone. A man with silver hair floats in the pool, eyes closed. When Duck sets a towel on the chair, his eyes fly open and he dives under the water, giving Duck twin shocks: glowing red eyes and a long, jet black tail.

“What the fuck?” He says aloud in case someone else is watching and can explain why there’s a fucking mermaid in the pool.

The merman resurfaces, blinking at him, “How in the world did you get in here?”

“Uhhhh…” Duck points to the gate.

“You...you see the pool? Do you see the motel as well?”

Duck turns, wondering if this is some kind of prank, “yeah?”

“Apologies” the merman swims to the edge of the pool nearest him, “it was such an unlikely future I am having a hard time processing it.”

“You’re havin a hard time”

“Oh, oh of course, this is all very confusing to you. Here, have a seat.” He gestures to one of the pool chairs. Not knowing what else to do, Duck sits.

“Now, have you heard singing while you have been here?”

“Yep. Thought it was the other guests.”

The merman shakes his head, “They are sirens. As am I. We are the descendants of sirens who lived here in the days when there was far more water in this area. As the water dwindled, we made our home in that river and wetlands” he points towards the south end of town, “and then the founders of this fine establishment decided to catch us and use us to lure people to their rundown casino. Since you are about to ask, a siren song shows you what you want; turns out many people want the promise of easy money, food, or sex. But you...somehow you do not seem to respond to it.”

Duck shrugs, “Guess not.”

“I wonder...hmm, perhaps you do not want anything?”

“Don’t think that’s it. Been drivin up and down the country lookin for somethin I want but can’t name.”

The merman rests his arms on the concrete, “You must tell me everything about your travels.”

“I mean, uh, they ain’t all that excitin-”

“I have been stuck in this pool for three years.”

“Okay yeah, more excitin than that. Also, what the fuck?”

“There are ones like it in almost all the lower level rooms. I get stuck out here because I will not sing, but due to having future sight I am too valuable to do away with.”

“This ain’t gettin less fucked up.”

The merman laughs, “Perhaps that is why you don’t fall prey to our song; you are just very honest.”

“That a nice way of sayin I can’t lie for shit?”

“I suppose so.” He grins, sharp teeth glinting in the yellow streetlights, “regardless, I am glad you are not susceptible. I haven’t spoken to anyone aside from the owners in months. They even keep me from my own kind.” His tone is breezy, but Duck sees the flash of pain in his eyes.

“What’s your name?”

“Indrid. Yours?”

“Can’t you see it comin?” He teases.

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it. I get ahead of others often enough as it is.”

“Duck. It’s a nickname.”

Indrid flips his tail once, “Care to join me for an evening swim, Duck.”

“You ain’t gonna eat me or anythin, right?”

“I only taste humans when offered” His tail undulates hypnotically as he pushes into deeper water. Then he pauses, “that was meant as flirtation and not as a threat.”

Duck slides into the water, smiling when he meets Indrid’s nervous gaze “Yeah, I got that.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

“See, you can tell it’s a saguaro because--fuck” the camera slips from Duck’s hand, only for Indrid’s to shoot out and catch it before it hits the water.

“Thanks, ‘Drid, startin’ to wonder what I’d do without you.”

The mer, cheek resting on the warm concrete, shifts sideways so he can bump Duck’s knee with his forehead, “The feeling is mutual.”

For the last two weeks Duck’s stayed at the motel, watching his fellow occupants walk zombie-like through doors or stagger from them in a daze when their money runs out and the owners kick them to the curb to make way for new targets. Following Indrid’s instructions, he delivers messages between the trapped sirens, the kind they dare not sing aloud, brings them things they’re missing, like favorite foods or things to do, when he can manage it.

He’s also careful to spend time in town, away from any lingering influence of the siren songs. Leo Tarkesian gives him a job in the store, and he strikes up a friendship with a woman going by the name of Mama, who comes in once a week with beautiful wood carvings for Leo to set out for sale. It turns out her family used to own the motel before Reconciliation swooped in and stole it in what Mama insists was an illegal move.

“Worst part is, they crowed about creatin jobs, bringin’ in more tourists. But they won’t let no one outside their inner circle work there, and folks who stop never leave and visit the rest of town. Now they’re gunnin for the state park. But they ain’t gonna get away with it this time.”

More than anything, Duck spends his time with Indrid. The siren tells him stories about life in the wetlands and river, Duck tells him about his travels, about his home, talks with him until the stars come out, would stay until they go away again except the mer tells him he needs his sleep.

Indrid is a very encouraging conversation partner, disdain and aloofness only appearing when he has to speak to the owners of the motel. He’s also very affectionate, resting his head in Duck’s lap or winding his tail around him whenever he stands in the water. Which is why, when he asks Duck if he’s made up his mind about what to do come fall, his fingers are stroking the humans back and his tail is lazily petting his legs.

“I dunno. I could go back and finish my degree, become a ranger and all that. But what if I’m only doin that because I feel like it’s what I’m supposed to do?”

Indrid brushes Duck’s hair from his forehead, “When you think of the future where you meet that goal, how do you feel.”

“Happy. Content. Like, like there’s a thing I can do to keep the world healthy and whole. Sometimes I feel like I’m supposed to be out there savin the world, solvin every problem, makin everythin better. And that’s too damn much. But when I think about havin some forest or park or somethin where part of my job is to care for it, help it grow...yeah, think I could do that.” He smiles at the image of his future self those words conjure.

Indrid smiles at the current him, brushes their noses together, “It seems to me that you have your answer.”

Duck loops his arms around Indrid’s waist, “Then again, could just stay here, look after you and the other sirens forever.”

Chlorine stings his eyes as Indrid zips backwards, looking as if he’s been slapped.

“‘Drid? What’s wrong?”

“You cannot stay here any longer.”

“What do you mean? I wanna stay. I wanna be with you.”

“No! Don’t you see? This is how the song gets you. It is making you think that your greatest wish is to stay in this crumbling motel, looking after a siren who has seen better days.”

“Hold the fuck on” Duck tries to swim to him, only for Indrid to swim further out of reach, “‘Drid, it’s real fuckin insultin to tell a fella that the only reason he feels how he feels is because of a magic song. Maybe I am startin to feel the effects, but I know that when I think about you, no matter how near or far to this fuckin pool I am, I wanna be with you. I’ve fallen in love before, I can recognize the feelin from a mile away. And it’s what I’m feelin now.” He crosses his arms, daring Indrid to argue.

The siren swims to him, cups his face in cool hands, “It’s what I feel too. Why do you think I cannot ask you to stay? I am a prisoner here, Duck. If you remain for my sake, you will be one as well. I cannot do that to you. I know the agony of being cut off from the world you love, and you have so much love yet to give it I cannot, will not, rob you of the chance to do so.”

“I…” Duck he mirrors Indrid’s touch, runs his thumbs along his cheeks.

“Please” Indrid kisses him once, softly, “please, if you love me, don’t stay here and make me watch you decay.”

Duck pulls Indrid as close as he can, kisses him until his lips ache and the siren is pliant and purring in his arms.

“I’ll go. I fuckin hate the idea of leavin you here, but I’ll go.”

“Thank you.”

“There’s just one thing you gotta let me do first. Will you let me introduce you to another human? She’s got almost as much cause to hate Reconciliation as you do, and I got a hunch you two might be able to help each other out.”

Indrid cocks his head, then nods, “Of course, my love. Just tell her to wear earplugs and bring something to write on.”

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The cottonwoods rustle in the summer breeze as Indrid floats lazily down the river on his back. A family is picnicking outside the visitor center, but only the youngest member of it sees him. She waves. He raises his tail in reply, smiling when she spills her drink in delight.

Most sirens give the heavily trafficked parts of the park a wide berth, still wary of interactions with humans. Indrid doesn’t blame them; Reconciliation was chased out ten years ago, but their memory lingers like smog. He himself stays clear of unfamiliar groups of humans whenever possible.

But today, the futures show him the park is welcoming a new ranger. And so he swims back and forth, hoping the recent arrival will see him. Hoping he remembers.

“I’m sorry sir, but swimmin ain’t allowed in this chunk of the river.” A teasing drawl drifts over his shoulder.

He spins in what he hopes is an elegant way, accidentally splashing the figure on the bank behind him.

“Of course.” He grins, swimming over and resting his arms on the bank and batting his eyelashes as the ranger crouches down to meet him, “how very rude of me. I am terribly sorry.”

Duck’s smile is brimming with years of stored up affection, the lines on his face hinting at stories Indrid cannot wait to hear, “S’okay. For my favorite roadside siren, I’m happy to make an exception.”

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #mermay

[ridiasfangirlings]

Strain affects Fushimi and Munakata: Whenever they speak, they're the only two who understand each other. To everyone else, it sounds like they're speaking another language entirely. I imagine Munakata taking advantage of this by doing more flirting with Fushimi at the office, lol. :)

Sometimes it feels to everyone like Munakata's speaking in a different language anyway so this doesn't really change things much XD Say he and Fushimi get hit by this Strain whose power makes it so you and the other person have like your own language that no one else understands, they can understand what the other members of Scepter 4 are saying but no one else can understand them. Right after the two of them get hit Awashima runs over and asks if they're okay, Munakata replies in this unintelligible gibberish. Awashima's like excuse me and Fushimi clicks his tongue and says something else that she can't understand, Munakata responds in kind and the two of them seem to have no idea that Awashima can't understand them. Awashima asks if they can understand her and it turns out that they can, they're both surprised when she explains that they're speaking in some unknown language because to the two of them it just sounds like normal Japanese. When they get back to headquarters Awashima has the alphabet squad do some research to see if there's like an actual language the two of them are speaking but if it is it's so obscure that they can't find anything that would have a translation. Writing doesn't work either, both Munakata and Fushimi just write weird scribble chicken scratch that doesn't look like any language Awashima can recognize.

Once it seems clear that this won't wear off for a while Munakata decides to mostly allow Awashima to give out orders for Scepter 4 in the meantime, since he can really only respond with nodding or shaking his head. This of course gives him a lot of time to spend with Fushimi, who was probably hoping he could just take the day off and not have to talk to anyone (really this is like his ideal Strain power, one which makes people leave you alone and stop bugging you). Since he and Munakata are the only ones who understand each other though Munakata takes this chance to get to learn even more about Fushimi, feeling like this is a wonderful chance for them to bond. And of course he's also happy to be a bit more forward in his flirting, since Fushimi normally gets annoyed when Munakata does that in public and now nobody knows but them. Really though the squad can kinda figure it out, like they'll see Munakata and Fushimi talking and then Munakata gives a wide smile and Fushimi's suddenly a little red-faced and clicking his tongue and everyone's like Captain's being even more obvious than normal somehow. Fushimi is maybe able to be a bit more honest though himself, being in a little world just for him and Munakata and not needing to worry about what anyone else overhears so he tries saying a few things he normally wouldn't just to try and get Munakata off guard too (not that it works, because Munakata enjoys hearing such words from Fushimi and it just makes him very happy instead).

#Reisaru #Talking K #it's fine no one understands the Captain anyway #and Fushimi hates having to talk to anyone #so really nothing changed :D #except Munakata getting to bond with his precious Fushimi #enjoying that he can be forward without embarrassing him except Saru's embarrassed anyway bc oh no honest affection my one weakness