#idk I think if I could put like a voice filter on at any moment while also looking sick as hell and androgynous I'd be satisfied | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dorizardthewizard · 4 months

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Galactik Football season 3 rewatch, eps 4 - 6

Episode 4:

Aww Tia and Thran talking about TV shows, I like seeing more interactions between characters we don't see together that often.

Also Tia looking out for D'jok by getting the video checked! We see her check up on him a couple of times in these episodes, I love their friendship. Here it's like a little reversal of when D'jok was looking out for her when the whole Rocket Netherball thing was going down

Hooooow does Thran's filter program somehow let him see what happened before the explosion?? That's not filtering anything out, it's straight up new footage!

Artegor putting his hand on Aarch's shoulder after D'jok's disappearance... they're such a divorced couple with messy history who still care about each other

Clamp: Without D'jok here, we don't have a captain!

A complete non-issue since D'jok only started being the captain because Rocket left, but he's back now so

THE KINGS, THE LEGENDS!!!

Aw that little moment of the Snow Kids being a little star struck, getting to play against Aarch and Artegor at their prime. Although I still don't know how that works exactly with the holo-trainer and their irl physical fitness but whatever

THEY'RE PLAYING IN PERFECT SYNC AS IF NO TIME HAS PASSED AAAAAAA

Standing all cool as they tell their Snow Kids to take a break and then immediately crumpling with their middle aged bones ajshahaha

Why does Sonny's English dub voice sound so forced now. "It COULD be a TRAP!!"

Aaaaand now D'jok's leaving as well, that was quick

Are they... you know 😳😳😳

No seriously Sonny's delivery just sells this ahahaha

I love team Paradisia's designs btw, very y2k. We've even got Clover from Totally Spies here!

Ok quick rant about the attempts at portraying "girl power":

Honestly idk about D'jok being annoyed they're all girls, this with the Elektra's comment earlier are examples of S3 being more heavy-handed like, “yeah these players are girls, but ACTUALLY that doesn't mean they're not good players!”. Compare this to the previous seasons where we just... had players that were really good and happened to be girls, and no one needed to comment on it? Like, Kernor is the top goal keeper and Lun-Zaera is the best striker for the Wambas, plus Tia was the Snow Kid's biggest weapon in season 1 so I don't think D'jok would immediately dismiss the girls like that. Maybe he would be disconcerted at being the only boy, but still. It's like in the lego n/in/ja/go movie where they were like “she's a GIRL, but she can still be a NINJA!” which has a weird psychological effect of actually enforcing to kids that there is some sort of disparity between men and women, when instead they could just portray her as an equal and let that do the talking, no need to manufacture sexism so you can call it out like “hey, we're so progressive!” (not that you can't have stories with that too, I just don't think it makes as much sense in this situation and shows a different approach than the first two seasons).

Rant over <3

NIKKI-4 IS TALLER THAN D'JOK YASSS

I like Team Paradisia's football outfits but what's the point of the visor?

They kind of have the Cyclops' style of attacking, lmao

D'jok you're such a bitch

Y'know at this point Aarch is like. Wow don't we have contracts with any of these kids? With notice periods?

I feel like S3 could have been more fun if the player switching had been more planned like, mix up the teams! The Snow Kids knew they'd have to get a player from another team but for some reason did not seem willing to let go one of their own, even though logically they would have to?

Artegor: He was bad for the team and we're better off without him!

Ah nice to see Artegor's no chill side still comes out sometimes

GASP! What a twist!

Episode 5:

Ooooh new name for a Ryker's player! Kinda wish it was the blue hair one just to distinguish easier lol

Nihla!! Although apparently Nihlis in secondary material. Not sure if it's clear what their gender is in the og French but I hc that the Shadows fuck around with gender anyway

Ok what, I remember this All Stars game happening but I thought it was later. I thought I skipped an episode for a second there because what, there was no mention of this mixed all stars game before at all??

also TIA SHOULD BE ON A TEAM

Nikki-4 sounds like the actual name Nikifor. heh

Rocket and Tia's H2O t-shirts! iconic nerds

My reaction to the Mice-delight advert breaks are the same reaction I have to any advert break

Ah ok so they were all contacted by other teams lol, in my mind Tia got contacted for the All Stars game but she turned them down because things were tumultuous for the Snow Kids and she wanted to be there for them <3

Also why are they dismayed that everyone's been contacted by other teams, that's kind of the point of this mixed flux tournament, no? It means they're good players!

Micro-Ice only got contacted by a fan club? WRITERS STOP CLOWNING ON MICE AND ONLY USING HIM FOR COMEDIC RELIEF HE IS A REALLY TALENTED PLAYER! Artie back me up

Ah ironic, Rocket can't make the flux jump and he falls, as opposed to season 2 when he saved Tia from a fall with the flux. Now I'm imagining Tia jumping up to save him and carrying him bridal style. It should have happened, writers

Rocket: Yeah I'm okay! Rocket: Actually, I take that back

We love a self-aware king who knows his limits <3

Christ it's just disaster after disaster for the Snow Kids, huh

Callie giving Nork the STINK EYE lol DRAG HIM she at least has some journalistic integrity

D'jok's being such an ass with the way he's talking about the Snow Kids, at least Mei showed there were no hard feelings when she left. What did they do to you, man? I can understand him feeling hurt and needing to get away, but now the show's going back to “D'jok only cares about winning” again. Like sure that could definitely be a front, but the show doesn't really look behind it as far as I remember

YAAAASS LUN-ZEARA

Surprised we didn't start this match with D'jok and Sinedd taunting each other

How dare you use the Pirate's soundtrack and not have a Pirate on the field >:(

YES KERNOR! weird to see her tired out though

The animation 😭😭😭

ooo call back to Netherball with this resonance thing, glad that has consequences. Cool that they show it affecting other players too, Kernor was the Netherball champion before Rocket after all

Does Simbai get dressed in her flux society clothes just to have a zoom call with them?

Ah wish we had more of that all star game

Episode 6:

Oh come on this is just sloppy now, he says the Shadows vs Rykers but that's the Pirates' logo. They got it right on the previous shot as well!

Is Mice practicing confessing to Yuki? I thought they were already dating lmao, surely they're past this

Why is Mark drawn with nipples but Micro-Ice isn't? Wait no he has them too in the next shot, what are the rules here 😂

Ah this scene is a classic. But 🅱lease give Micro-Ice some development that's not just comedic relief, even his stuff with Yuki is played for laughs. What about the fact that his best friend, no, brother, just up and left and shits on the Snow Kids on live TV?

SHARKY THAT. DOES NOT FEEL VERY LEGAL. SEXUAL HARASSMENT, IN FACT.

Kernor enjoying her little treat <3 I love when we get to see tough characters doing mundane things like eating ice cream.

I love this butler guy who hates his job. His wince when Tia says she needs someone to talk to before he reluctantly offers an ear, LOL. An icon.

Awww I'm glad to see Tia and Mei still being good friends. Mei I missed you!

THE SHADOWS WALKING IN UNISON UNDER THE UMBRELLA DSFJKFSSDF I know I shit on the animation but they do try to put in little things like that. They didn't have to animate that, but they did, for us.

Artie and Bennett shenanigans yaaay

Not Ahito and Thran deciding to watch the Shadows match instead of supporting Yuki

It's so fun watching the Rykers with how intimidating they are. Unfortunately my brain has been ruined and I keep getting reminded of something else when I see this gesture

He looks so unbothered 🤣😭😭

Again, what's the point of the Elektra's visor? Their flux looks so cool though

THE SHADOWS PLAYER IS SO TALL COMPARED TO THE CYCLOPS LOL

What position is Mei even playing now

Why didn't Kernor use her flux? Honestly goalkeepers should just use their flux for every save considering they don't have to run around as much

Is it just me or is Ahito not falling asleep as much as before

4-0???!!! NOT A SINGLE GOAL FOR THE RYKERS???!! RUDE!!!

The look Tia gives Lun-Zia, wtf man, this whole jealousy plot is just ridiculous. SHE WOULD NOT FUCKING DO THAT!

Why ya'll being so mean to Mice, dafuq ToT He just got violated by the paparazzi lmao show some sympathy

Sidney's reaction to Kernor sfsdfjksfjk good taste sir

OH NO NOT ZOLEEN

Ooooooo Pirates lore!! So they were already a thing before Sonny, he just took control from Magnus Blade and gave them a PR change

#galactik football #my posts #dori watches galactik football

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simpledyiing · 2 years

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Games ∥ P. Mitchell

Top Gun: Maverick

Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

This fic is inspired by this recurring thought

Author note: There will probably be a part two to this fic with a smutty handcuff scene lol Idk if the reader should be handcuffed or have a sub-Maverick moment

_____________

Mondays, are the most irritating and stressful day of the week simply because the fresh start meant unfinished work from last week, constant tiredness, and a general feeling of any small inconvenience, annoying you to the point of crying into your coffee. Well, this particular Monday wasn’t pleasant for one naval Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell.

0530 Monday....

The crew was having a bit of a late start, considering they didn’t think of the consequences of last night’s drinking. This fact was unbeknownst to their Captain, considering he has been waiting ten minutes for them to show up. Maverick’s boredom grew with the passing minutes, checking his watch ‘12 minutes late’ he looked around to see any sight of the team, letting out a sigh while reaching for his phone already swiping to ‘AIRFIGHTERS: plane simulator’ He figured if he was going to wait he might as well do a warm-up flight.

Maverick was at peace, engrossed in the little plane soaring across his screen, that he didn’t realize how his bliss was about to be trampled on by his very own aviators.

–

They were late and they knew it, they were just praying that Maverick was in an overly great mood on this dismal Monday, that or hopefully they could think of a way out of their nearing punishment. This is why Payback pitched the awful idea of just sneaking into the hanger and blaming Maverick’s age for not seeing them, Phoenix simply rolled her eyes at the unthought-out planned and walked into the hanger with Coyote, and Bob tailing behind her.

As the pilots stood waiting for their captain to acknowledge their presence and serve them their punishment, it took them a moment to realize that Maverick wasn’t going to acknowledge them anytime soon, considering he was engrossed with whatever was on his phone, that's when the faint sounds of gunfire and a missile lock alarm filtered through the hanger. At that Y/N leaned forward shooting Rooster a look while whisper yelling “Go over there and look” Rooster’s previously blank face contoured into a confused expression, matching her volume “ why me??? Send Payback, he’s literally the reason why we are late” Payback was about to give Rooster a piece of his mind when Hangman and Phoenix pushed him towards Maverick’s form with a simple “go”

Payback grumbled towards his teammates until Maverick’s phone came into his view just as Maverick maneuvered his plane with a sharp right to avoid a missile. The irritated look on Payback’s face morphed into one of confusion until it clicked “MAVERICK ARE YOU PLAYING A PLANE SIMULATOR GAME!..... Oh my god” and just like that Maverick’s peace was shattered by the hysterical laughs of his students. Rooster was the first to speak “I guess we figured out what Maverick’s retirement plan looks like”

Maverick’s eyes already started to roll but focused as Y/N sent Rooster a sharp look “Aren’t you the one, that’s on level 3400 or something in candy crush” Rooster’s laughter stopped and took a defensive stance to his female counterpart “ Your point? That’s completely different and has nothing to do with this conversation”

“Uh huh whatever you say, honey”

“The Man, the legend Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell astounding pilot of AirFighter Plane Simulator” Everyone fell to silence and shifted their gaze towards Seresin as soon as the words left his mouth. “How did you know it was AirFighter Plane Simulator? That’s oddly specific” Y/N voice filled the silence as Hangman shifted from side to side until settling “I.. I didn’t just a lucky guess y’know” finishing it off with his signature smirk..

Maverick cleared his throat to gather the attention of the pilots and put his hand up when Coyote went to interrogate Hangman further “Up in the air in 10, Afterwards 5 crunches for every minute you were late…. Looks like it’s about sixty crunches.. And 200 pushups ” Payback was about to put his previously pitched idea into action when Hangman elbowed him to shut him up.

The day carried on, as well as the teasing, Maverick just hoped it would quit so he could have some peace at the Hard Deck….. That hope died when Rooster and Hangman challenged Maverick to a virtual dog fight. After waving them off…well ignoring them, he felt the presence of someone filling the spot next to him. It's Y/N gracing him with a soft smile “Alright get it out” she responded with a raised brow to his vague conversation starter, waiting for him to further explain “The jokes you are going to make at the expense of my plane game. Might as well get it out of your system” The sound of Y/N’s giggle filtered through the air around them “For your information, I didn’t come to make jokes at the expense of your plane simulator, I actually think it's quite adorable.. Plus I already knew about it”

“w-when? And I thought you said you weren’t going to make jokes at the expense of my game?

“I have known about it for months now, and I’m being serious, I honestly think it's utterly adorable, It’s like heart eyes and all”

Maverick shoots Y/N a suspicious look until slowly nodding his head at her “How did you find out about it?” Y/N rolled her eyes at him until looking around the Hard Deck for prying eyes or eavesdroppers “Ohh y’know I was simply minding my own business, sleeping when you woke me up at 3 am with the missile lock alarm going off. Plus you kinda move your body in the direction of the plane, as if you are in said plane…. Like I said before it’s adorable” Maverick slapped his left hand to his forehead while letting out a sigh, looking up at Y/N and mutters “never repeat that to anyone, especially them” taking his eyes off of her, to spare a look over at the rest of the team.

After not receiving a verbal response, Maverick turned his gaze back to Y/N just as her pouty lips morphed into a mischievous grin, He knows that look all too well he can see the gears turning as she starts to open her mouth to respond, a finger is pointed in front of her face with a series of ‘No’s “Y/N whatever you are thinking, stop now” Maverick was already tired of his students giving him a hard time and didn’t need her giving them more ammunition against him “ but … fine how about we make a deal…”

Maverick hates to say this but he already knows what she is going to say.. Well, at least certain factors that are involved, whenever Y/N wanted to make a deal for her silence it usually ended with his back hurting and Y/N not walking right afterwards for a few days, but for whatever reason he decides to indulge her “what kind of deal?” seeing as Maverick is playing along with her little game, the smile widens as she leans forward, barely an inch away from him “Well y’know I’ve been wanting to try out those handcuffs… plus I’m pretty sure we still have whipped cream in the fridge….” Maverick simply nods agreeing with the deal “who’s going to be handcuffed? You or me” Downing the last of her drink, Y/N stood up and shrugged on her jacket, giving him a pointed look “We can play rock, paper, scissors” Maverick mimicked Y/N’s previous actions and huffed out a “ What are we five?”

“Physically? No, Mentally? Yes”

At that Y/N shrugged her shoulders, making her way out the front door of the Hard Deck with Maverick beside her, the parking lot was silent except for the distant waves, which was a stark contrast to the loud, lively bar.

The silence was interrupted by Maverick pushing Y/N up against her car door, the metal let out a dull hiss into the night’s sky. He didn’t move, his hands were stilled on her hips and waited for her next move with bated breaths, until she leaned forward to press a quick kiss on his lips before pulling back, leaving him to chase after her lips.

“Y'know Pete, I thought of a way we could figure out who’s getting cuf..” her sentence being muffled by his mouth covering hers, Y/N couldn’t keep the moan from slipping past her lips giving Maverick’s tongue easy access to hers. Y/N thought about breaking the kiss to pitch her idea but she figured this would give Maverick a little incentive to hear her proposal out. Y/N pulled away to catch her breath, but that didn’t stop the captain from leaving opened mouth kisses down the column of her throat, all while hiking one of her legs up around his waist “what are you planning, to fuck me in the Hard Deck’s parking lot, Pete?” after leaving a considerable size bruise on Y/N’s collar bone, Maverick pulled away to inspect his handiwork “Y’know Sweetheart, you are just full of great ideas tonight” before Maverick could return to his previous position, Y/N puts a hand to his chest lightly pushing him back “Pete, even though the idea gravel digging into my knees is so romantic, I have a better idea. Last one to the house, gets cuffed and does whatever the other person wants”

“Anything? Even the hip thing?”

“Yes Pete, even the hip thing, deal?”

“Deal” and with that Maverick pulled her in for a bruising kiss before taking off and running to his motorcycle before Y/N could even register what was happening, the sound of Maverick’s bike roaring to life was the only thing snapping her back to reality.

“THAT’S FUCKING CHEATING MITCHELLS, NO SPEEDING… God I hate you”

“Of course baby, I would never do that.. Love yoou too”

Thanks for reading :p

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sllhouettedreams · 1 year

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On Forehead Kisses

So, this is taken from a fic series i deleted/abandoned but idk. I wanted to just share this bit. I took out the stuff that tied it in with the plotline I had but. enjoy?

Discovering it was purely an accident. Andrew’s lips brushed his forehead and Neil went mostly boneless against him. It took a second for Neil to recover, to put the inch of distance back between them. He muttered a sleepy apology-Andrew hadn’t missed the slight flush to his cheeks.

After a few dizzying moments of analyzing the moment, Andrew came to a conclusion: Neil likes to be kissed on the forehead.

Since it had happened the first time, Andrew hadn’t tried it again. He contemplated the effect it seemed to have on Neil. Andrew thought about the number of people in his life who would have kissed his forehead. Mary didn’t seem the type. She used brute force and abusive protection over kind affections.

Did Neil even realize he likes it? He had been half asleep when it happened. Was it a need he had but didn’t know he had- like holding hands had become? Like leaning on Andrew and trusting him with the weight of his issues? Something that he craved now that he knew what it felt like?

Below him in the bottom bunk, Neil’s breathing turned uneasy. For Andrew, it was another one of those nights, where he felt wound too tight to sleep. For Neil, it seemed it was the beginning of a nightmare.

Silently, Andrew crept from his bed and into the kitchenette of their dorm room. It didn’t take long for the smell of coffee to filter through the small space. The green numbers on the clock glowed just passed 5am. A familiar time. A familiar place.

An unfamiliar resident.

Neil hadn’t been living in the same dorm as Andrew for very long. With footsteps as light as they always are, Neil padded into the kitchen.

It’s become routine that however macabre their nightmares or intrusive thoughts that plague them get, however late or early they are woken from them, they unwind with steadying breaths sat easy in the kitchen.

Neil’s eyes are bright with feral energy that Andrew recognizes. “You are not going anywhere, Neil Abram Josten.”

Until this moment, using his full, newly legal, name had always snapped Neil away from the gloom of his nightmares. Neil tensed further, lashes fluttering as his eyes twitched. Andrew took in a breath and held it for a second or two.

“You were there. In that cop car. The one they stole to take me to him.” Neil’s volume tapers off as he says the word ‘him’. As if even just the thought of him would summon the ghost of Nathan Wesninski to finish him off. “Sometimes, one of the others were there. Matt. Dan.” Neil swallowed hard, “But this time it was you.”

“And?” Andrew challenges but Andrew doesn’t really think Neil will answer. Not with how there’s even more sweat gathering on his brow, and his knees are bent slightly, braced and ready to bolt.

Andrew pours two cups of coffee, patiently waiting. His face remains emotionless, knowing the stability Andrew offered had always been a comfort for Neil. Andrew could take each and every problem Neil had and help him shoulder it. “It...” Neil, despite himself, takes the mug Andrew offers. A little swirl of tension loosens in Andrew’s gut. Neil can’t run with hot coffee.

“It was just a dream.” Andrew finishes for him, carefully neutral. “We’re both alive.” Andrew says. He watches as Neil’s nightmare starts to dissolve from his mind in little fizzles of loosened shoulders, an unclenched jaw.

“We’re alive.” Neil echos, voice only the ghost of a whisper. He’s still miles away. Andrew watches Neil for a while, long enough to finish his coffee. Neil is staring into his, cooling rapidly.

Because he know it will Help Neil, he forces out the words, but he can’t fake any enthusiasm for them. “Exy practice starts up today.”

The remaining tension flows from Neil like a loosened spigot and the smile that smooths out the crease in his brow is definitely not overwhelming. “Junkie.” Andrew scoffs, setting aside his empty mug.

“It’s the first time I’m playing without healing from any major injuries in a while.” Neil points out, as he had a couple times before when practices resuming came up, when Andrew would scorn his excitement. He knew the effect it had on Andrew.

Andrew shut up. He could concede that point. He didn’t have to like it, though. “I won’t let you score a single goal.” Andrew mutters, “Not even if you scream.”

Neil looks excited by the prospect, “promise?” He takes a few steps closer to Andrew and sets his mug beside Andrew’s, still full. Andrew’s hand curls in the front of Neil’s shirt, tugging him closer.

“Remember the game, your first year, that you had coach pick a number and that’s as many goals as you let through before you closed the other team out?” Neil had recovered from the nightmare, it seemed, if he was here getting aroused by the thought of Andrew playing Exy. And playing Exy well.

“What about it?”

“What if I picked a number?”

“No, I said zero and I mean zero.”

Neil just grins.

Because he hates when Neil gets the jump on him, he resolves to put his secret weapon to the test once more. With his grip on Neil’s shirt an anchor, he rises to his toes and presses his lips to Neil’s forehead.

The effect is immediate. Neil slumps forward, his forehead pressing heavier into Andrew’s lips. When Andrew lifts his free hand to the back of Neil’s neck, Neil shudders. His lips part with a heavy breath that Andrew feels against his chin and collarbones.

Andrew lingers, not long enough for it to be weird, but just long enough for the weight of just how intimate this action is to settle around both of them. When Andrew rocks back onto his heels, Neil’s arms are on either side of him, holding onto the counter. Oddly, Andrew doesn’t feel trapped. Maybe a little cornered under the weight of Neil’s stare, but not in a way that makes anxiety ripple in his stomach. His face remains placid, calm, even when Neil speaks again.

“Can I kiss you?” Neil asks because he never stops asking and Andrew appreciates that so much. He sounds breathless, unable or unwilling to speak above a whisper. Andrew doesn’t know which.

“Yes.” Andrew says at his normal volume. He needs to show Neil it wasn’t a big deal. Simple, doting affection shouldn’t be earth shattering. Maybe it’s a lesson they both need to learn because when Neil kisses him, it’s so tender that Andrew feels he might explode with the feelings welling up inside him.

When they first collided, it had been fast, almost angry. Rough. There was not a single ounce of gentleness to be found in their union. It had been that way for the first few months, with a rocky back and forth in the time following Spring Championships.

Nowadays it stays more casual, infinitely slower. Andrew is still trying to reconcile this brand of Neil Josten’s sensuality with the inexperienced freshman from before. They’re both inexperienced, they’re navigating it together.

Andrew pulls back just as he starts to feel overwhelmed, and Neil listens to his body language and takes a small step back. He drops his hands from the counter so Andrew doesn’t have a chance to feel trapped.

He’s not. He wasn’t.

Neil glances at the clock, then to the darkness outside the window. Andrew knows he’s thinking about taking a run. “Stay.” Andrew says.

“Okay.” Neil relents. Andrew doesn’t think it was a tough decision at all for Neil.

When the night winds down after practice that night, Andrew stops Neil before he climbs into his own bed. “Up.” He motions, pointing to his own bed.

Neil hesitates, “You sure?” It’s not because they technically have a roommate that Neil is double checking- Kevin is in one of the beanbag chairs out front, headphones on and watching old Exy matches.

“Yes.” Andrew’s tone is sure, so Neil has no other reason to question him.

Neil climbs up with his pillow just as Andrew settles with his back against the wall. It’s a good thing they’re both short and Neil is so lean. They’d never fit otherwise. Neil turns to Andrew, their faces close, but Andrew has had a good day, and there’s no anxiety in the closeness.

They’ve been together long enough for Andrew to know he can trust Neil. For the thought of Neil’s skin against his to not have it crawling.

Andrew shifts, lifting a hand and brushing Neil’s hair away from his forehead. He glances at Neil’s face briefly beofre pressing his lips right in the center of Neil’s forehead.

Neil lets out a shaky breath and Andrew lingers. When he moves, his lips skim down the length of Neil’s nose. He purses his lips against the tip of Neil’s nose, another little kiss. Neil doesn’t react as viscerally as with the forehead kiss.

Andrew digs his thumb into Neil’s pulse. He feels both their heartbeats at this single point. “You like being kissed on the forehead.” Andrew doesn’t pose it as a question.

Andrew can see Neil fighting back his reaction, but he can’t stop the pooling of blood on his cheeks. With the summer sun, Neil is perpetually sunburned, but Andrew is so familiar with Neil he still sees it. Even in the dark. Neil doesn’t try to refute Andrew’s claim, “No one’s ever done it before.”

Andrew had suspected it, but the confirmation still doesn’t settle easy. Neil’s pulse is elevated. Andrew rubs his thumb in long stroke down Neil’s neck. He wants to tell Neil it’s just a kiss, don’t be so dramatic. But that isn’t true, is it?

It’s affection, true. But it’s patience, unhurried care. It shows trust. A level of adoration neither of them are familiar with in the slightest.

“Can I...?” Neil tips his chin, indicating Andrew’s forehead. Andrew’s nostils flare, betraying his surprise. “Had anyone ever...?” Neil doesn’t finish either question, but he doesn’t have to. Andrew knows what he means.

“Cass did.”

Neil touches Andrew’s forehead tentatively, parting his hair. “No one who stayed?”

Andrew stiffens just slightly, but he doesn’t tell Neil to stop, doesn’t move away. “No one who stayed.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Neils fingers tap at Andrew’s temple in a mockery of a familiar salute. He leans in and kisses Andrew’s forehead like Andrew had done for him.

Objectively, he knows why Neil likes it. Neil is warm. His lips are slightly chapped but they’re still soft against his skin. Being on the receiving end is different. There’s a puff of breath from Neil’s nose skimming his head, not moist against against his collar. There’s the scent of Neil’s bodywash and something unnamed and undoubtably Neil.

He feels safe, astoundingly enough.

Safer than he ever had, even. Neil settle back against his pillow and looks at Andrew in that fond way of his that he has. The kind that makes Andrew feels seen. Feel known. Combined with the kiss, it’s too much.

Andrew turns Neil’s face into his pillow for him, as if he might smother the striker. Neil chuckles into the sheets and Andrew releases him. “You liked it, too, didn’t you?”

Andrew doesn’t respond to that trap, instead he just says, “Go to sleep, Junkie.”

#aftg #all for the game #all for the game fic #andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #this is longer than i thought it was hahah #read it while you can i might get self conscious and delete it like i did with all my other stuff #sorry this is barely edited bc if i think too long about it i will never post

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crowcryptid · 9 months

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Ok I have finished outcasts

Spoiler under the cut

I was wondering “what is the point of this book” because they’re doing all this to stop the guardians but we already know they’re gone so like who give a shit! ohhh it’s the funny dust. I see.

Mmm asbestos 2.0 for everyone not wearing a helmet/filter but it’s ok it’s funny dust you’re fine it’s good for you put it in your mouth now

But then oh The Not Flood totally Not the Flood at the end. Hmm.. wow.. was that.. idk… hrm.. surely not more funny dust. Is it a different dust or is it the same one though. That’s the question.

At the very end of the book I mean

I don’t think the voices on the planet were meant to be the flood. But that’s just me.

The dust on the planet obviously isn’t spores (maybe not YET..) cause everyone stuck there was fine for all those years. I mean the elites inside got special treatment and weren’t “inhaling it” (is being covered any better??) but if it were spores then surely the people outside would have gotten at least some of it in them. Not enough for the funny armor it seems. But it could just be waiting till the right moment. Perhaps for someone to take some samples with them OWO (sorry)

Unless the planet’s dust is not related and the end is talking about a different dust? Dust, powder, spores, dirt, whatever, don’t inhale that. Bad.

Also didn’t that elite lick it. Fun dip. Or did he just do that so it stuck to his finger I don’t remember. (Sowwy I’m listening at work and can’t pay 100% attention)

Since I have an audiobook I can’t just go back and find a specific part.

Guys this is why you have to clean your room. You can’t let the dirt sit there, it will start talking.

Don’t you see this is why the new armor core is a hazmat suit. ☣️ Funny dust incident ⚠️

#halo #halo outcasts spoilers #halo outcasts #I’m at work wuhhhhaaaaghhhhwuuahhhhhggg #my previous post was mistaken this is actually the 4th infinite prequel we’ve gotten cmon guys please #we’ve got shadows of reach. divine wind. rubicon protocol and now this #oh you want to progress the timeline soo bad you want to #please :3

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jiminrings · 3 years

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umm can we like do one where he touches y/n? Like he's all nervous but wants to make her feel good and she directs him through the whole thing?! Idk just sexy times hehehhe

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

jungkook sees you wearing a button-up blouse and all his inhibitions are ruined; alternatively, stem koo touches you for the first time

Jungkook’s shy — shy to the degree that he can’t find his voice when you quietly compliment him on his hair, but not shy enough to try and hold your hand whenever the two of you pass Hyeji or any desperate (yet unfortunate) classmate of his.

Jungkook is shy, but that doesn’t mean he’s subtle.

He’s not subtle with the way he looks at you from top to bottom with his eyes wide and his breathing shallow. He could swear up and down that he's quiet and have in fact given Jimin the spook of his lifetime at 2 in the morning when he creeped up on him, when all his poor friend wanted to do was drink water. Jungkook swears he's not obvious, but he's oblivious to the way you could hear his breathing.

He's not subtle with the way his eyes follow your movement and his speech is interrupted, unknowingly putting an end to your discourse on how every other beverage in the world, besides coffee, is considered decaf.

He actually forgets to breathe for a second and he feels every single thought vanish from his mind all at once, his focus only zeroing on you.

“Is that a new shirt?”

You're just about to present your argument to him when you suddenly feel the lack of noises of disbelief from your boyfriend, turning to him in the exact moment that he springs you an unrelated but very important question. "This shirt?"

Jungkook sees you point to yourself and he can't be subtle with how eagerly he nods. He decides then and there that maybe having no shame wouldn't be so bad after all, because seeing you chuckle at what seems to be an innocent question (and you still assume that it is) eases his embarrassment.

"Mhmm, it's new. You noticed?"

All the inhibitions loitering around his mind fly out the door the moment you respond to him, a happy yet surprised smirk on your face after seeing his interest. Jungkook's face, however, turns even more flushed because then does it click that what you're wearing isn't a part of a plan.

What you're wearing — as in the pale pink and silky button-up blouse, with the short sleeves, the relaxed lapel collar, and the low dip; as in the same blouse his eyes are fixated on, with the fitting and cut on you making it seem like it's only made for only you — is not a grand rouse to tease him.

The shirt you're wearing that gives you the loveliest silhouette and the sheer two handfuls of cleavage that Jungkook wants to volunteer to hold up, isn't a plan.

There is no plan for Jungkook.

There is no plan at all.

“Yoongs and Jin want to go to this bazaar later," your voice breaks up the static in Jungkook's mind which makes him gulp, "Jin’s just fixing up in the office and Yoongi’s picking up something from the post office.”

He's confused when you don't comment on your shirt further and you just go straight to telling your boyfriend about your own plans with your friends for the day, his mouth hanging open.

There's no intention nor malice behind your shirt that's meant for him or anyone else in that matter. He knows you're fond of giving him a nudge every now and then, but you never act on the same thing twice.

He knows that you wait for him, you respect his decisions, and love him so-dearly even if he's always caught in the middle of sexual innuendos that just fly over his head and you have to chuckle and shake your head throughout all of them.

Not only does Jungkook know, but he's dead sure that he wants nothing more in life right now than to hold your shirt open and suck on your boobs.

“I like this shirt.”

He comments all of a sudden and it sounds more like a confession than it is a statement, the straightforward and deeper tone of his voice making you peer your head at him.

You were initially supposed to go into the bathroom to change into your pants because your silk top doesn't exactly go with pajama shorts that have tiny hearts on them and have been worn on several occasions by Jin when all his clothes are in the laundry, but Jungkook shoots you a look that you can't deny.

He's sitting at the edge of your bed with his hand outstretched, the usual pout on his face is gone and surprisingly replaced with a clench on his jaw that you can't quite decipher yet.

“Thanks. I like it too," you giggle when he pulls you by your hips, making you tower over him while he's sat down. The look on his face looks happy, relaxed even, but there's still the clench on his jaw that you pay extra attention to.

Jungkook's hair is a little longer now and therefore much more noticeable when he combs it back with his hands, the lines that his fingers leave from weaving through them being indented. It shouldn't really be your main concern but you can't help but think that his jaw looks sharper this way, symmetrical to how his strong brows are visible with his hair out of the way.

You snap out of it when you realize that there's no furrow to Jungkook's eyebrows and that means he isn't angry or anything of the sort. There's no unease bothering him that you could think of, but it worries you even more when he looks even more stern now.

"Are you-"

You physically can't find the words because Jungkook takes it upon himself to grab you by your hips and make you hold onto his shoulders as the only way to make yourself stable, his mouth immediately diving into yours that makes you meld to him out of instinct.

There's something in the way he's kissing you because you could swear that it feels a little more desperate and needy, not that Jungkook's kisses never felt that way because they always do, but you could just feel it deeper in all senses.

You grunt the moment he accidentally bites on your bottom lip with his teeth, giving him a second to catch his breath but he feels absolutely helpless with the way he's now eye-level with your cleavage.

"Wasn't supposed to do this today."

He mutters to your mouth as soon as he desperately dives in back for a kiss, this time pulling you towards his body to make the both of you fall back to your bed, the sudden movement so unlike him that your squeak resonates but gets swallowed by his tongue anyways.

"Do what today?" you ask with only half a mind because to put it bluntly, Jungkook feels different today that his sudden barrage of deep and desperate kisses pulled the breath out of you.

Jungkook shifts beneath you and only then does it register in your mind that you're lying on top of him, gathering yourself to sit closely beside him instead and it's the moment you feel the bulge in his sweatpants graze the inside of your thigh.

“Jungkook?” you ask half-entertained and half-curious as to what made him this hard in a matter of minutes, oblivious to the gravity of your blouse and what's beneath it that drives him near the edge. “You need help?”

“No.”

He answers quickly yet he enunciates it as clear as he could, his voice heavy on the tip of his tongue with finality.

His answer leaves no room for discussion and the roughness in his voice makes you squint, tilting your head at him when he next spoke.

“I wanna help you.”

Jungkook pulls himself up from his lying position and kisses you languidly this time, easily making you somehow bored because it's tame compared to when he kissed you minutes ago, but you never get the chance to deepen it because he's trailing his lips to the shell of your ear, biting on it softly.

“Help me how?”

It's a loaded exhale that leaves your boyfriend as you basically just asked him to elaborate on how he wants nothing to do but to bury his face on your tits and change his place of residency to the valley between your chest.

Jungkook kisses down to your throat and he lets his tongue linger there, sucking so lightly that it makes you imagine if he's even doing so, but you can't tell because he's making your head tilt back on purpose.

“I can touch you, right?" he asks politely as he drags the tip of his tongue to your clavicle, his eyes looking up just as kindly for confirmation. "Can I?”

"Of course you could," you shiver when Jungkook places his thumbs underneath your arms and right to where the band of your bra extends from the cups, the goosebumps on your skin not going unnoticed because your boyfriend chuckles right to your ear.

“I was actually planning on asking you if I could try and touch you next week because I was too nervous,” he admits just as sure but not as forward this time, licking his lips as he lowers his head to meet your tits that are pushed together, only seeing the limited skin that your blouse allowed. “B-but you just looked too pretty today.”

You've come to realize in situations such as these, Jungkook says the first thing that comes to his mind. There's no filter and no barrier because he says what he needs to say the moment his mind throws in the words together. Could be a little incoherent at times, but his boyish charm is just something that proves to you how genuine he really is.

“Cute.”

Jungkook hears you mutter under your breath as you peer up at him, your roles being reversed as you're now the one who's sitting on the bed and he's the one towering over you, the sight of you being laid-back with your hands supporting you making the gears in his head turn.

He lurches at you again before you know it, just one more chaste kiss to replenish your taste on his tongue before he starts to unbutton your blouse.

“Calm down,” you chuckle when you see his fingers trembling but you make no move in helping him, in fact, you become even more relaxed as you look at him fiddle with the buttons.

“Sorry. I just really, really can’t wait to see you," he only apologizes half-heartedly, barely undoing the second button because he's so jittery and excited that he can't contain himself.

“Oh! Right,” you snort and it makes him wonder if you've suddenly had you eureka moment that's totally unrelated to the situation right now. “I forgot you’ve never seen neither my pussy nor my boobs.”

The harmless jab you make at him gets him to deadpan at you, scoffing with his whole chest at your teasing, magically curing his trembling fingers.

“Heh. I’m getting there, miss,” Jungkook rolls his eyes sarcastically and makes sure to stress on the last word to try and get into your nerves as much as you do with him.

He beats you in getting the last word because his hands get to the button that holds the peak fullness and weight of your tits, seeing with his own two eyes on how your boobs are full and almost spilling within your bra.

Jungkook gulps and he'd pay to see the replay of your tits that went from a tight cleavage to expanding fully after being released from the confines of your blouse, the unmistakable bounce of them spilling out from your top forever engraved in his mind.

“Oh my god.”

His hands work on autopilot to peel off your shirt, leaving you in your bra and shorts alone. Jungkook leans in from the side to look at your back so he could undo the clasp of your bra by himself, a heavy sigh leaving him when he feels the peak of your tits from underneath your bra press right to his chest when he undoes the clasp.

He tilts his head back to see his handiwork, his pupils dilating even more at the sight of your bra completely removed and your tits out for him to see.

Jungkook literally pauses right in front of you and for a second you're scared because you think you've broken him, a breathless giggle leaving your when you bring your thumb up to wipe the corner of his lips.

“You’re drooling, handsome.”

You're not sure whether it's because you pointed it out or it's the term of endearment, but atleast any of the two or perhaps everything you've done for the matter is what sets him off.

Jungkook wastes no time and lets his large hands squeeze your boobs tightly, moaning when he feels the soft yet firm flesh in his palms.

"That's it," you whimper when he squeezes them again, feeling the pressure out of your boobs being rubbed right off with how he rolls them in his hands, "just like that."

Jungkook's moan gets stuck in his throat when he rolls your nipples between his fingers and he gets a whine out of you, but he's positive that a chill ran up his spine and resided there the moment he squished your tits together.

The visual alone of your tits pushed together and cupped by his hands makes his cock twitch, a needy whine shamelessly tumbling out of his lips before he can even hold himself back.

"Fuck," he mutters as he licks his lips at the sight, turning his gaze to look at you. “Have I ever told you that I dreamed about your tits once?”

Jungkook's out of the blue statement makes you choke on your moan, willing your eyes open to look at him.

“What happened then?”

You ask as casually as you could to reflect your boyfriend who looks like he's just now remembered this tidbit at the heat of the moment, all while still rolling your tit between his hand while he plays with your nipple using the other.

“You let me suck on them,” he hums, giving you one of the sweetest smiles you've ever seen, suddenly stopping his ministrations so he can grip you by the shoulders while he speaks into the crook of your neck. “You let me suck on your tits for so long that I fell asleep with them in my mouth.”

The bluntness of his words shoot straight into your core, his hazy eyes smiling at you when you try to bounce back. It's admirable, really — looking at you looking at him like you could eat him up, all the while your hands are unconsciously holding his wrists, trying to put them back to your tits where they belong.

“You want that?” you coo to him when you feel him kiss the corner of your mouth. “I do have to leave in less than an hour though.”

Jungkook laughs and he knows you're serious, but he takes his chances anyway, knowing deep-down that he can't pry you away from your friends with a crowbar even if he wanted to.

“Do you really?” he play-whines to your neck as he kisses down the center of your chest, “can I tag along? I won’t talk the whole time.”

The laugh gets stuck in your throat the moment you feel Jungkook's mouth attach to your nipple, his tongue swirling boldly at the bud and the accompanying moan he has out of sheer enjoyment in sucking your boob render you helpless.

“It’s okay,” he hums with his mouth full of your boob, looking right at you when he suckles more harshly this time. “You’d let me do that next time, right?”

“R-right.”

It's only rare that Jungkook makes you speechless and your lack of words is something that shoots straight into his ego, feeling a lot more confident with the way your moans are amplified in his ear.

“I loved my dream that night,” he almost moans just by thinking about it, “remember when I said I couldn’t come over because Jimin needed my help with his thesis?”

You don't answer but Jungkook doesn't seem to like that, grazing his teeth on your nipple while he twists the other that it makes you jolt and actually think before your brain turns into mush the second after, vaguely recalling the time that he was talking about.

He's satisfied with the way you nod eagerly, a sweet smile that fills you up from the inside-out.

“I lied.”

“You lied?" you ask in disbelief but there's no real anger behind it. In fact, it even sounded like you were thoroughly amused. "You know how to lie?”

Jungkook breathlessly laughs to your jab, audibly 'ooh'-ing at your reply which makes you giggle even louder.

It's nice, actually, but there's another version of nice that you can't quite explain when Jungkook slaps your tit from the side and it makes your giggles cease, replaced with a moan that racks through you and makes your boyfriend tremble by the knees.

“I jerked off to the dream version of your tits,” he says with no shame while he furiously rubs your nipple in small circles, “and I cummed so, so hard in my hand that I felt too ashamed to see you that night.”

The dots only connect in your mind later on, realizing that Jungkook's voice did sound too hoarse and rushed for him to be only irritated at Jimin's thesis which he could eat for breakfast.

“Oh baby,” he hears you moan and it only makes him desperate to make you feel even better, his hand on the groove of your spine when you arch your back in pleasure, “you’re so good at this.”

“I am?”

His usual shy demeanor, especially from being praised, is something you highly treasure and is currently being showcased at the moment, keening from the warmth of your words.

"You are."

“I’m not gonna lie,” Jungkook chuckles to himself and the deepness of it makes you look for his warm touch even further, “it’s gonna take me like, four business days to not be nervous and finally eat you out.”

There's something about Jungkook that is unshakeable all the way down to your bones, seeing to it that he's in the middle of sucking and grasping at your tits, but he's also telling you how nervous he actually is and is making you laugh with his candidness.

“Don’t have to be nervous, Koo. You make me feel good anyway,” you pinch at his cheeks and he melts at your touch for a second, but tries to worm out of it as it hits him that he shouldn't be the one who's taken care of today. “But okay. I’ll wait for four business days to have you eat me out.”

Jungkook laughs with his whole body when you go along with him and his specific timeframe when it comes to psyching himself out, taking the time to see you laugh and the way your face turns into his favorite view before his hand goes elsewhere.

You're perfect, actually.

"You're wet."

Jungkook trails his finger on the center lining of your pajama shorts, and it reminds you of the fact that you haven't cummed yet and it seems that your boyfriend's not quite done with you yet.

“And whose doing is that, hm?”

Jungkook toothily grins, kissing you sweetly on the lips that you feel him smiling throughout. "Me."

He lowers himself down for him to be eye-level with your clothed core, his nose brushing against the lining of your shorts that it makes you writhe briefly, your shuffling coming to a halt when he holds you in place by holding your hands.

Jungkook's eyes are easily fixated on the shape of you that's curved into the fabric of your shorts, the wet spot that's growing the more he takes his time staring right back at him.

You clearly didn't expect it, which is why you obscenely moan to look down and see Jungkook diving in and inhaling you directly, his nose brushing against your clothed clit in the process.

“You smell so sweet.”

His lips press ever so gently to your mound that it makes you shudder with how soft he does it, looking down to see Jungkook closing his eyes who looks up at you with hooded eyes at the same time.

Jungkook winks before he closes his eyes and wastes no time in kissing your core as how he'd kiss your mouth, his pressure just as rough when he's desperate.

"Fuck, Jungkook!" you whine needily because as much as he's giving you, he's not giving you all because you realize that there's still a barrier between you and his tongue. “Y-you sure? Four business days? Can’t I have a rush order here?”

He finds it amusing that you're trying to banter with him in order to level yourself, and it's cute actually, but Jungkook knows better.

“Nah. I'm imploding on the inside from trying to psych myself out, y’know.”

He carelessly replies and before you can even add into the conversation, your eyes train on your boyfriend who's suddenly stopped, a plead growing in the back of your throat.

Jungkook closes his fist but only juts out his middle finger that’s in a closed knuckle, looking as if he's knocking.

"W-what are you doing?" all the words die down at the tip of your tongue when you feel his knuckle trail up at the seam of your shorts, stopping at the spot where you shudder and let out the faintest of whines.

"Don't you mean who?"

Jungkook drives his knuckle into your clothed clit and the shrill moan he gets makes his skin light up on fire, taking pleasure in seeing you writhing underneath him and moaning his name.

“Am I doing good?” he asks as he drills in his knuckle, hiking up your leg on his shoulder as he uses the extra space from beside you to his advantage

“You’re doing great, baby,” you almost feel like crying with how good you feel, willing your eyes open to see Jungkook who's just as lost in pleasure as you are, “so, so great.”

“Are you s-seriously,” you ask in between moans, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach intensify in waves, “gonna make me cum in my shorts?”

Jungkook works even more diligently now that you mention it, the sweat from his forehead dripping all the way down to his neck as you make the happy mistake in observing on how fucked out he looks while making you feel good.

“I can clean you up. Suck your cum out as much as I can.”

Jungkook hits the nail in the head because you find yourself gushing before it could even register in your mind that's consumed in a high.

And true to his word, Jungkook does suck up the proof of his doing so eagerly that you have to pull him up by his hair gently. “S-sensitive."

Your boyfriend lets you regain your breath as he proudly lies down beside you, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of his hand as he looks fondly at you.

Jungkook looks so proud of himself and you make sure to tell and make him feel just as much, a sincere kiss pressed on his temple.

“Not gonna help me out of my shorts?”

“Four business days.”

You change to your actual bottoms in the bathroom and you have to grip at the edge of the sink because your knees keep trembling, actually chuckling to yourself with how this situation fills you up with pride.

You come out to find Jungkook sitting on the edge of your bed in a prim and proper situation, having changed into your jersey that he takes the liberty of stealing and wearing every time he comes over.

He's holding your bag in his hands, flashing your phone and the notification that Jin's coming home in ten minutes and Yoongi's arriving not far off.

Jungkook has a blush on his cheeks and he's back to his sheepish state, nuzzling your neck in comfort while you smother his face in kisses.

“Did I do good?”

“You did perfect, Koo.”

as always, lmk what you think!! i love answering asks :D what do you want to see from the lunchbox lovers next? send them here <3

#stem koo #stem koo misc.#jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook au #jungkook writing #jungkook fic recs

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hanjinstant · 2 years

Text

who in skz & bts would be absolute besties

genre: skz x bts (not ships!) friends au, some school!au too. mix of idol! and nonidol! bts + skz

warnings: none!

chan x namjoon x yoongi

i feel like this (iconic) trio would have hyung chats and hyung sleepovers and hyung writing sessions (wait just imagine the music they'd make together... i need that). the vibe would be very very chill as each of these guys on their own has a wonderfully calming energy to them. i think they'd relate to each other a lot; sharing experiences, particularly with namjoon and chan being leaders, but all three of them being suitably level-headed and extremely gifted production and songwriting wise. i can imagine that when they see each other in person they'd do that really typically guy slap on the back welcome hug thing and would all have the widest smiles too.

lee know x jin

hyung squad 2.0. this duo... is sarcastic and the humour is sahara-desert-dry. i feel like these two would get on so well from seeing their respective personalities in various interviews and skz code / run bts. they both can make an already hilarious moment ridiculously funny and i can see them exchanging dad jokes in their spare time. they're very good at teasing their members (well, in minho's case, scaring them hyunjin) and definitely play it up for the cameras, overdramatise it in a way that's pure entertainment. maybe they'd become friends after both working on a film together?! idk! i really really see actor jin and actor lee know in the future 🎥🎞️

hyunjin x tae

would definitely be the popular duo at school. you know, the two guys that all the girls and gays have crushes on, pretty much because they're good people as much as good faces. (both are important) these guys radiate the same aura of peace, thoughtfulness but also goofy and fun too. i see them taking scenic photos together on holidays and oooooh imagine how their voices would sound in a collab!! both are very fashionable so they'd also pass advice on to each other in that realm too.

changbin x hobi x jisung

pocket rockets! this trio would be hella fun, always giggling and goofing around. class clowns, a trillion percent. they'd be easy going too and the friend group that everyone loves and secretly wishes they could spend more time with. the sheer energy that radiates around these three is unmatched by, well, everything. you'd never see them without big, toothy grins adorning their faces. binnie, hobi, jisug would be a sporty trio too - apparently hobi used to be good at tennis ,changbin taekwondo and i think han would be amazing at almost every sport without even trying haha. would lowkey highkey be all the teachers' favourites because they're smart enough to get by but also their enthusiasm is standard/high for most subjects!

felix x jimin

okie okie here we go ... the cuddliest! duo! both come across as wonderful, beautiful, caring human beings who have many friends that they spend lots of time with. as a duo themselves, they're both very driven individuals so it would be beneficiary (and fun!) for them to rehearse together, helping each other with choreo and vocals - because their vocals are sorta on opposite ends of the spectrum from each other, they'd work well and develop an even larger range through collaboration. also, filter ft felix is most certainly a need, not a want. a need. both are superrrr talented at dancing so seeing them interpret each group's choreo and adding their own flairs to it!

i.n. x jungkook x seungmin

maknae squad! honestly these guys would be a bit of a nightmare in terms of always having ridiculous amounts of energy at any given point; however this can be and is put to use through dance practices and training for comebacks. since we've recently seen more of jungkook's boxing sessions (HOTTT), i think they'd all go on a day off to try something new. they're adrenalin-junkies and i think could get very involved in / good at a sport every couple of months. this would be a trio that go to theme parks, on all the terrifyingly tall rollercoasters, but would also be able to be completely relaxed at times and i can see them doing a joint mukbang v-live and having lots of laughs and yummy food :)

a/n: gonna do some more stray kids writing too !! bts are my ults but i also stan skz so there will be some more of them in the future <3

stay a while! masterlist

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lazywonderlvnd · 4 years

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if you ever take prompts would you ever write harry as a himbo? disgustingly charming, kind and respectful to women BUT stupid. and draco is all "you're so stupid its so hot take off your trousers"

this is literally so funny im shaking. i tried to keep harry as ic as possible idk ytfsugeruahes i’m rly dying tho. living for these rare tropes keep em coming. hope u enjoy anon ❤️

“Can I get two cranberry vodkas?”

“Vodka cranberries,” grunted the surly bartender, unmoving. Harry’s eyebrows came together, obviously confused. Draco sighed and tried not to sound too fond.

“No,” said Harry. “Cranberry vodkas, I mean. The flavoured kind.”

“Harry,” said Draco, putting a hand on his arm, “it’s not flavoured vodka. It’s vodka and cranberry juice, he just means it’s typically called --” But he stopped trying, because Harry had an eyebrow raised and looked unimpressed with the explanation. He turned to the bartender. “Two vodka cranberries. Thank you.”

“What’s the difference?” Harry said when the man behind the bar had turned away to get their drinks. Had they been at a wizarding pub this wouldn’t have happened -- people didn’t talk to Harry that way. This Muggle clearly just thought he was a moron, which might have been true in a number of ways but it was always so very endearing.

“That’s just what it’s called,” Draco explained, grinning. He touched a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “People are quite touchy about terminology.”

“Whatever,” said Harry. “I thought it was flavoured vodka, that makes more sense.”

“No, honey,” said Draco kindly. “It’s cranberry juice, that’s why it’s red.” He took the drinks as Harry passed the bartender his Muggle money, telling him to keep the change to pay for a couple girls’ drinks that were ordering. They giggled and fluttered their lashes at him, not knowing he had no interest, he was just Harry, being an absolute gentleman came naturally to him.

They took their drinks outside, Draco privately hoping the cool autumn air would lower his body temperature a little bit (Harry’s shameless idiocy always, unfailingly, made him hot under the collar, he didn’t for the life of him know why), and no sooner had Harry pulled out a cigarette than he’d stuck it absent-mindedly in his mouth the wrong way and lit the filter.

“Fuck, shit,” Harry muttered, plucking it out from between his lips and, with a roll of his eyes, chucking it perfectly into a bin some ten feet away. “Why do I do that every time?”

Draco, half-hard, watched him light another and then took it when Harry offered it to him. He lit another for himself, looking completely, mind-meltingly hot for no reason at all as he checked to make sure he was doing it the right way.

“Oi, could we bum a couple of those?” a woman asked, the high trill of her voice indicating she was properly sloshed.

“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” said Harry, hurrying to take the last two out of his pack and handing them to the woman and her friend. He then used his little Muggle contraption to light both of them up, oblivious to the way they looked at him with hungry eyes.

“Thanks so much,” the woman’s friend said, but when Harry only gave them a charming little smile and nod before turning back to Draco they took the hint and walked off, looking slightly crestfallen. Draco clenched his teeth and reminded himself he was not allowed to drag Harry into a bathroom stall to ravish him.

“I was thinking for Ron’s birthday,” said Harry, looking at once moronic and attractive holding his cigarette with his thumb and index finger like it was a joint, “he’s always threatening to eat his body weight in things. I wanna get him, like ... I dunno, his body weight in Chocolate Frogs or something. How would we calculate, like, how much his body weight would be in Chocolate Frogs?”

Draco took a moment to suck in a crisping lungful of smoke, telling himself again, over and over, he couldn’t drag Harry into the loos, he couldn’t do that, it was illegal ...

“Do you have any idea?” Harry pressed. “Maybe I should just ask Hermione.”

“Harry,” Draco said, stubbing out his cigarette. “D’you know how much Ron weighs?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you know how much he weighs in Chocolate Frogs,” he said, taking Harry’s cigarette and putting that out too. Harry looked at him, confused, as Draco took his hand, feeling very resigned, and began leading Harry towards the bathrooms.

“Wait, what?” Harry said, and then, “Where are we going?”

Draco shoved him into the bathroom and manually did the lock.

“There’s no calculation, Harry,” said Draco. He pushed him back against a wall and pulled open the zipper of his windbreaker. Harry looked more bemused than ever. “Whatever his weight is, that’s also his weight in Chocolate Frogs.”

And finally understanding dawned in Harry’s eyes. “Oh!” he exclaimed, looking excited. “Right, yeah, that makes sense!”

“God, you’re so dumb,” Draco muttered, and started fumbling with his trousers.

#anna writes #im having a stroke icb how funny this is #drarry #drarry fic #Anonymous

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beskar-cowboy · 4 years

Text

The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight

Part 4 of The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight Series

Summary: You catch an accidental glimpse of the Mandalorian without his helmet, his instincts kick in. (4.4k words) link to read on ao3 here

Warnings: NSFW, Mando is kind of mean, the helmet is off but its still canon?, PIV sex, rough sex, he low-key kinda threatens the reader idk, spanking, soft ending to make up for whatever the fuck i just wrote <3

A/N: this series will be uploaded in a non-linear order! i realize that this way of doing things might not be everyone’s favourite so please let me know if you would like to be notified when all the parts are uploaded (linearly in my masterlist) <3

Perhaps swaddling the child to your chest on a desert planet was not the smartest idea. The heat was blistering, even though you wore less layers than usual. Just a tank top, some utility shorts and a blaster holstered to your thigh. And the baby of course, who had not stopped babbling since you left the ship, the only thing distracting you from this damned heat.

You could only imagine how Mando was feeling underneath all that beskar as he walked alongside you in silence, only stealing glances every now and then, as he usually did.

Even after travelling with them for half a cycle now, Mando still withheld so much from you.

Even after the two of you slept together for the first time, after some close call on some jungle planet, he still retreated into his usual silence.

But there were more gentle touches now, more lingering hands, more helmet tilts, but he still hadn’t let you in. You were okay with that, you knew that this was what he was used to, so you didn’t think too much about it.

You let him take what he needs without asking too many prying questions. If you were being honest, you liked the way he used you, you liked how he took it out on you, you liked how rough he got, how possessive, how starved he could be.

It had only amounted to a couple of times over the last month but… but you loved it. You looked forward to it, you thought about it, dreamt of… dreamt of him, of Mando, inside you, above you, under you-

Mando squeezed his large hand around your bicep, breaking you from your thoughts before nodding to you, then he departed. Off to meet with… whoever.

You stayed in the market and bought stuff for the ship.

Some new screws and bolts for parts that were missing or had to be fixed, food rations, dried meat, fruits that you knew Mando was fond of, some weird, shiny little trinkets the child seemed attracted to, and a new bar of soap. You had just finished the last one a few days prior.

After buying the necessities, you wandered around the little market with the child, bouncing him up and down against your chest and talking to him softly. He was very responsive today, not seeming too bothered by the heat thankfully.

But the sun was high in the sky, most likely at its peak, and it was unrelenting. The desert environment of the planet gave way to little shaded spots so you looked for water instead, finding a little mist station where children laughed and played. You ran through it a few times with the child, he screeched with joy.

On your last run through the mist, you caught sight of Mando approaching the two of you again.

That saunter… the way he walked was so intimidating, so sensual. You couldn’t help but let a shy smile stretch across your face at the people who cowered away in fear of the bounty hunter.

You made sure you had all your things in your sling, checking to see that the child hadn’t dropped his new toy and then you were off, heading back to the ship.

The walk felt longer now due to the long exposure you both had in the sun. Mando seemed to be trudging along just the same as you, profusely sweating and in desperate need for some water. And a shower.

Mando opened the hatch and you both stumbled inside, dropping your bags and untying the child from your chest where he had left a giant sweat stain from how tightly he had been pressed to you. Suddenly aware of how sweaty, sticky and disgusting you must seem, the only thing on your mind was a shower.

“I got you some Meiloorun, they seemed ripe.” You smiled at him as you gently placed the child on the floor of the Crest. He waddled towards his father, trying to show him his new toy.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” He said in your direction, that deep modulated voice making you shiver. He seemed hesitant to look away, but picked up the child regardless, letting him show off his new shiny thing. Mando took it into his hands, playing with him, you smiled fondly.

“I’m going to go take a shower if that’s okay? To cool down a bit.” You’re not sure why you felt the need to ask his permission after all this time but you still felt the need sometimes. Maybe he would want help putting the stuff away that you had bought, maybe he wanted you to help with the child or something? You just couldn’t help the way your mind only fixated on the sweat and grime sticking to your flesh.

“Of course.” Mando nodded. You nodded back, turning on your heels to head into the ‘fresher just around the corner in the low cabin of the Crest.

You leave the door open, you think you don’t mind Mando seeing you if he decides to look or happens to catch a glimpse. Even though he’s never taken any of his armor off (besides his gloves) for you before, he’s seen every single inch of you.

You quickly peeled off your damp clothing, turning the water on and making sure it wasn’t too cold but cool enough to relax your heat exhausted body. You stepped in quickly, eager to cool yourself down.

You visibly relaxed as soon as the water hit your burning skin, your shoulders sagging, a sighing escaping your lips. You dug your fingers into your own flesh, trying to knead the tender muscles which strained under the weight of the child and the supplies. It wasn’t much but you still ached, the heat had definitely contributed to that.

Supplies… your new bar of soap! You had been excited to use it but completely forgot about it the second you returned to the ship, mind wiped blank by the desire to rid yourself of your dirty clothes.

Suddenly thankful you left the door to the refresher open, you stick your head out from behind the curtain and call for Mando, wondering if he could retrieve the sparkly blue soap bar for you.

Instead of being met with an empty doorway, you’re met with something else. And it’s as if the world moved around you in slow motion, your emotions moving over you like molasses.

First, confusion.

Hair. A head full of light brown, golden hair. It curled near the ends, into little wisps. It couldn’t be-

No. That couldn’t be Mando. It was as if your brain refused to acknowledge the shiny beskar that sat underneath that head of hair, refusing to realize it was the tin covered man you were looking at.

Second, curiosity.

Your eyes scanned over his head, taking in the way the bathroom light shined over his hair, making it reflect all different shades of brown and caramel.

It was now that you realized that his head was turning, that’s why the light was bouncing off it so dynamically.

His head continued to turn. An ear.

Third, shock.

It was only when you saw the sliver of skin, the shell of his ear, the inner workings of the intricate cartilage, and the profile of his supple cheekbone that you let out a startled, and perhaps unnecessary, shriek.

Your hands flew up to cover your eyes, to shield them from the forbidden view. You turned back into the shower, facing the wall, away from Mando.

He saw more of you than you had of him. He saw the way your chest heaved, the way the water flew off your body as you twirled to face the tiled wall of the shower, away from him. He watched the water hit your back-

You had seen him. Or at least, that’s what he thought.

He hated the way his instincts kicked in. He hated the way he was trained to kill whoever saw him, whoever looked, whoever dared unmask him.

Almost innately, his hand reached for the light switch, plunging the refresher into darkness as he stalked towards you, pressing his hand to your head and pinning you against the cool tile of the shower forcefully and efficiently.

Mando’s body followed suit, bringing both of you underneath the steady shower stream, pinning himself against your backside. The cold bite of his beskar in contrast to the cool water making you whimper, the force of his hand pressing your cheek into the wall made you see stars behind closed eyelids.

“What did you see?” He asked, voice gruff, strained, unmodulated.

Fuck.

Of all the months you had spent aboard the Razor Crest, living with him, fucking him, you had never heard his voice without the helmet, without some sort of barrier. You regret the way it made you moan, how easily he could make you melt.

“N-nothing, I didn’t-”

“What did you see?” He pressed onto your harder, with his hand and his body weight, pining you completely to the wall, making you at his mercy. You cry out at his cold touch, at his harshness. Mando had been frustrated, even angry, with you before but now… now he was about to truly end you.

But all you could think about was how beautiful his real voice sounded. It always sounded beautiful to you, from the moment you met him, it had made you weak, but this… this was unlike anything you could have imagined.

“Hair,” you cry, unsure if you were truly crying or if it was just water from the endless stream running above both of you now. “I s-saw your hair, your ear… I-I’m sorry-” You hiccup, trying to regain your breath and not inhale too much water as your chest heaved.

Without the helmet Mando was quickly realizing that he could genuinely hear you for the first time, your trembling voice ringing through his ears without being slightly distorted by the helmet’s filters. He could….

He could smell you too. The sweet scent of your skin, of your wet hair tangling in his fingers as he continued to hold you in between the tiles and his unforgiving beskar.

You… the sight of you pinned against him, your wet skin, water dripping down your flesh in rivulets, your whimpers, your cries, your tears, the way your eyes closed, the way you kept them closed even now, drowning in darkness, your cheek flush against the tile.

Completely at his mercy.

You weren’t even fighting him.

“Fuck.” He groaned, leaning his forehead against your temple. You whimpered at his sudden movement, so on edge.

You knew he was trained to kill. You knew what happened to people who even attempted to look at him. You had seen it, you had been there when it happened once, ignorant vendors trying to taunt him, trying to tease the Mandalorian. How stupid they were, now dead somewhere in a ditch. Would he do that to you? It would be so easy for him...

Mando wondered if you could see him in the darkness as well as he could see you. He knew you couldn’t, the lack of windows deprived the room of any light sources. Luckily, his eyes were trained and used to harsh environments, low visibility. Luckily, he could see you trembling against him.

He removed his hand from your head, sliding both of his hands now to hold your hips, digging his blunt nails into the flesh, leaving crescent moon-shaped indents behind. You yelped at the sting but didn’t pull away. You liked it.

“I’m sorry-”

“Stop talking.” He growled and you bit your lip, unaware that you had opened your eyes due to the deep, dark abyss you had been plunged into.

You could truly not see a thing. All your senses became focused on the way Mando touched you, the way he’s wedged you between the wall and himself, the death grip he had on your hips, the way his breaths came out quickly and evenly onto your cheek. He was breathing almost as hard as you were.

He nudged his nose onto your cheek and you nudge your cheek back onto him, trying to remind him that it was just you, that you’re not a threat, it’s just you, it’s just you, it’s just you.

This is The Way. This is The Way… This is The Way… This… is-

Fuck. You were distracting him. Your little whimpers, the way you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. So willing, you were always so willing for him. So fucking easy and it drove him crazy.

His skin… it felt so good against yours. You had only felt the rough, rarely tender caress of his rough palms. Never of his face, his lips, his nose… You felt like you were being driven insane, you couldn't believe how close his unmasked face was to yours.

You could kiss him…

Mando continued to rub his nose against you, suddenly so lost in the feel of your skin against his. No one had ever been so close to him, so invasively close, breathing in and breathing out the same air, sharing. Feeling your eyelashes flutter against his own, your lips, open panting, swollen and pliant and inviting. He could… he could-

“Mando-”

You’re cut off by his hand suddenly slithering down your body and cupping your cunt. You gasp, unable to help the way your hips involuntarily rock into his hand, into his own hips as well, feeling a growing hardness between his legs.

You were hot, so, so hot down between your thighs. Slippery too, and Mando knew it wasn’t just the water. It was thick, sticking to his fingers, practically begging for him. Mando groaned against your open lips, both of you panting into each other’s open mouths.

“You... you fucking like this, don’t you?” He rasped, biting onto the side of your bottom lip. You whimpered, hips bucking into his hand again. What were you supposed to say? How were you to answer that?

Yes Mando, I like how fucking intimidating you are.

Yes Mando, I like how much bigger you are than me, how easy it would be for you to snap me like a twig.

Yes Mando, I like when you’re rough with me, I get off on it, I crave it, I-

“Fucking answer me.” Mando growls, latching his teeth onto your earlobe now. His hand continued to cup your sex, not truly going anywhere near where you needed him. You still couldn’t fucking comprehend that he was without his helmet, his face right next to yours…

“Yes!” You squeaked as his fingers brushed along the inside of your folds, parting you, dragging his fingers along the length of you, slipping through your sweet cyprine. You let out an unholy moan, so ashamed at how easy you were for him.

Mando kisses your ear, trails his tongue down your neck, collecting the water that pebbles down your flesh as if it were syrup.

This… is, The Way. This is- The Way-

His fingers brush up against your clit accidentally and you buck into him again, desperate for any sort of friction, any sort of attention he could give you.

Mando was trying to calm himself down. He had just been on the brink of snapping your neck and now he was overcome with lust, the desire to fuck you, stuff you full of his cock. The two extremes were dizzying, he felt drunk off of some fancy and expensive cider from some far off planet in The Core. But he supposes that’s just what you did to him.

Before he even realizes it, he’s unzipping his pants, letting the top fall undone and pulling his cock out, letting it rest against your backside. You bite your lip, trying to turn your head to look towards him but your eyes are unable to adjust, you feel as though you can see the outline of his face but… but you’re sure it’s an illusion of the dark.

“Please, Mando-” You weren’t one to beg, Mando wasn’t one to make you beg because he was always as desperate, always as pent up, touch-starved, hungry as you were.

When you two fucked it was never slow, never drawn out, never languid, luxurious. No, it was rough, mean, volatile, desperate and just fucking needy. You needed each other, and Mando fucked you like it would always be the last time, every time. Like he would never have you again, like he would never split you open again.

Mando shoves his entire length into you in one hard thrust, knocking the wind out of you from how deep he reaches so easily at this angle. He rests for a moment, savouring the way your pussy flutters and clenches around him from the sudden intrusion, trying to adjust to his substantial length.

His head pressed right up against yours, he can hear all the pretty sounds you're making, even over the loud patter of water against his beskar which begins to weigh him down from how soaking wet it's getting.

But Mando doesn’t care, he can’t, not when you’re whimpering for him in that pretty way you do, not when you clench so tight around him that he feels like he could cum without even having moved. You beg, you beg and beg and beg for him to move but he just closes his eyes and feels you pulse, hot and tight and snug around him with that perfect little cunt of yours.

You hadn’t seen him, he thinks to himself. You hadn’t actually seen him, he’s okay, it’s just you, it’s just you, it’s just you.

You.

Quivering at the end of his cock, moaning, grasping at the tiles, trying to find purchase on something, taking him all the way in like you always do, like a good fucking girl.

He hadn’t even realized that he had started thrusting, in and out with reckless abandon, bottoming out every single time before pounding back into you, making you whimper and cry.

“W-what’s my name?” He asks suddenly, pulling you from floating away towards whatever astral plane you were near close to ascending too, the one his thrusts were pushing you towards as he rearranged you from the inside out.

You had to think, you had to think of his name because your find was blank, he was fucking you dumb.

“Mando.” You whimper, closing your eyes and letting your head rest against the cold tiles, keeping your head turned so that he could keep his face pressed into your cheek, nose nudging yours, lips brushing but not kissing.

“No… what’s my fucking name?” He grits from behind clenched teeth, punctuating his words between harsh, unforgiving thrusts. You hiccup, unable to swallow down air properly as he fucks you into the wall.

His name?

What did he-

Oh.

His name. Mando had never told you his name, his actual name.

Was this a test? You shook your head ‘no’ as his arms wrapped around you, locking you in place as his ungloved hands came to grope at your breasts, using your own body as leverage to fuck into you harder. You let out a wanton moan, throwing your head back, letting it rest on his beskar covered shoulder. You turned your head and let your lips brush against his cheek but he turned his head too, lips brushing against his own and you both gasped and whimpered in unison. He seemed insistent on not kissing you, so you just went along with it, all your wits being literally fucked out of you.

“I-I don’t know.” You finally answered, your voice coming out small, between laboured breaths.

You didn’t know him, he thought. He still had something of his identity held in privacy, you didn’t know him, you didn’t know him.

“You don’t- you don’t know me,” He begins to say and it makes you cry, you cry against his mouth, your body shaking, bouncing against his, water beating down on both of you. “B-but you still let me fuck you like this, don’t you sweet girl?”

You scream. You scream when his hand lets go of your left breast only to come back down onto it, slapping the underside of the supple flesh. You wail and cry and moan the only name he’s ever told you.

Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando.

He grabs your jaw in one of his strong hands, angling your face towards his, a sight unseen.

“Answer me when I speak to you, cyar’ika.” He says forcefully, regardless of the nickname.

“Y-yes.” You choke out, trying to nod your head in his tight hold but you barely can. You were right on the brink, you felt as if he were to say one more thing in that deep, rough voice of his you would cum.

“Yes, what?” He grits, fucking your harder, moving his hand down to your neck and pushing you back against the cold tiles, making you yelp and cry for him, at the cool bite of ceramic materials.

“It’s c-cold, Mando.” You whine. He slaps your ass, his hand cracking down on your flesh, no doubt leaving a mark to find again tomorrow. You squeeze your eyes shut, bordering on overstimulation from his cock, his slaps, the water turning colder.

The ship never had a great water supply.

“Answer me.” He fucks you harder, faster, deeper, un-preciously and slaps your ass again, the other cheek this time.

“Y-yes! Yes I..I still l-let you… let you fuck me like this!” You cry and shake against the tile.

Mando’s arms quickly wrap around like they had before, hauling you back into his body. He snakes his hand down and rubs against your clit in fast, precise motions.

Almost instantaneously, your mind goes blank, your eyes roll into the back of your head. One of his arms wraps across your front, against your chest, holding your shoulder in a death grip, his other hand still working on your clit, his thrusts unrelenting as you cum and cum and cum around his thick cock.

“That’s it. That’s it... Good f-fucking girl.” He rasps, holding you tightly, thrusting a few more times before he empties himself inside you with a growl, painting your walls with him, branding you, owning you.

You moan at the sensation, the way his hot cum fills you to the brim before leaking out, back onto his cock and down the backs of your thighs. You both pant, your chest heaving in time with his as he fucks it back into you as deep as it’ll go, stuffing you so, so full of him.

You keep your eyes closed, afraid of opening them, afraid he can see you even in this darkness. Even though you know he can.

Mando stays inside you until he’s softened, relishing in the way your pussy trembles around his girth, sucking him in as deep as you can for as long as possible.

When he eventually does pull out with a low growl, you hear him twist the knobs of the shower, the water suddenly becoming warmer, heating your now freezing skin. All these temperature changes were making you feel light-headed, the rough fuck you just got from Mando not helping your case either.

“Wha-”

“Stay here, warm up.” Mando cuts you off, you hear him step out of the shower.

A series of loud bangs resonate throughout the refresher, making you jump. Only one thing could be that loud. Is he… removing his beskar?

“Mando-”

“You’re always so cold when we’re travelling… can’t believe you were taking a cold shower.” He mumbles to himself, you can imagine him shaking his head. You’re stunned honestly, at how much he’s talking, especially without the helmet, that fact alone still lost on you. His voice was so beautiful, you had thought it to yourself about a hundred times now since you first realized he took the helmet off.

You stand under the warm stream, your quaking shivers slowly dissipating. You feel his presence enter the shower again, this time you can clearly feel his body heat, more flesh. He’s naked.

Mando is standing naked with you in the shower.

You involuntarily step away from him but he catches you, his hand landing on your waist, his hand softly grasping the flesh there. Such a stark contrast to the way he just fucked you into oblivion.

He’s naked.

This man had never removed anything besides his gloves. Even when he fucked you, the armor stayed on. You’re not sure if it was an issue of trust or due to his boundaries or his Creed. But considering he almost just killed you for accidentally seeing his ear and cheek, and was now standing naked with you in the dark… well, maybe it was a bit of both. You were having trouble wrapping your head around all of this, nothing was making sense to you.

The hand on your waist pulls you closer to him, your chests and bellies bump together and you gasp. Mando is firm, you knew this but… but to actually feel him against you, well, you could cry about it honestly.

You felt uncertain about what to do with your hands, unsure if you were allowed to touch him but you tentatively lifted them to his chest anyways, letting them rest against his solid pecs. His skin was soft despite the random series of raised flesh that seemed to brand him, his scars. You don’t think you ever wanted to see someone’s scars, someone’s skin as badly as you do now. But you would right out ask for it, you couldn’t.

You felt Mando lift something to your skin, it was smooth as it glided along your arm, your shoulders, across your back. A fruity, earthy scent filled your nose.

Your bar of soap.

He must have grabbed it before he took off his beskar. You lean into him unknowingly, the hand at your waist moving to hold you against him more easily as he washed you. You let your face rest against his chest, the little spot where his throat meets his collarbones. He smelled like sweat, grime, gun powder, he smelled like Mando.

You pressed your lips to the skin, the skin you knew was tanned and rugged, worn down, tired, in need of more kisses than he would let you give.

At the gentle press of your lips, that’s when Mando speaks again. It’s so hushed amongst the falling water, you almost miss it, but the few words don’t fall deaf to your ears, you hear every letter, every syllable.

“My name...” You look up to where his face would be, trying to imagine what expression he wears as he speaks to you in the dark. Your forehead not too far from his lips, you can almost feel the ghost of them on your flesh.

“My name is Din.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #reader insert #din djarin #the mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #my writing #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you

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ickle-ronniekins · 3 years

Text

black & white

request: from nonnie: ASDFGhjkl. Why are your fics so CUTE? 😭 Can I request a cute and cheesy George proposing to the fem!reader—and they’re wedding? 💜

desc: a love story unfolded via a timeline of events and colors. based on the song ‘black and white’ by niall horan

pairing: george x fem!reader

word count: 5.5k

warning(s): lil bit of angst, alcohol, some sexual content if you squint but it stops before things ~heat up~

A/N: this is just pure fluff. may or may not have cried at the cheesiness. idk. i’m a cheesy gal. can’t help it. i’m in love with a fictional character. sorry i went a tad overboard with this. also let’s pretend ~voldy~ doesn’t exist in this k? reminder that my requests are currently closed, i am merely working through the requests already in my inbox. i do not give permission for my work to be posted on any other platform.

Red

Red, hot fury swept through your bones as you watched him laugh hysterically alongside his brother. You balled your fists together, ready to throw a punch, but you knew your mum would lock you in your room until you were forty years of age if you even thought of throwing hands.

George Weasley was a pretentious little git. It was bad enough that he was your neighbour and you had to see him and his equally annoying twin in the village nearly every day, but what made it even worse was that for whatever reason, he’d chosen you to be on the receiving end of all of his pranks. His mother, Molly, was not for it -- she often gave her sons a solid tongue lashing, but it clearly never made an impact, for each and every day they were back to their normal mischief, seeking out ways to make you shake with anger.

“Weasley!” you squeaked as he and his brother ran back across the field toward their home. You loathed the idea of being in the same school as him in just two years time. At least here, at home, you could escape to your own house and your own room, far away from the boy who teasingly threw a red paint balloon all over you and your new dress. But at school, well -- the castle was only so big, wasn’t it? You weren’t sure how far away from him you’d be able to get.

You watched as he and Fred ran away, their giggles echoing through the air on top of the hill. You looked down at your ruined dress and screamed. You reckoned you’d never be able to love the colour red ever again -- not when it had ruined your beautiful purple dress, and especially when it was the colour of his annoying, messy hair.

Yellow

“I’m really sorry.”

He was standing across from you in the field. You thought about telling him that you needed to take four showers in order to get all of the red paint from your hair, and that your dress was permanently stained, but instead you folded your arms across your chest and huffed a bit. Not even magic could salvage it.

“I promise, I mean it,” he squeaked, as if he could read your mind. He seemed sincere, but he was always getting into all types of trouble, wasn’t he? Perhaps he was as good a liar as he was a pranker.

You kicked at the dirt, unsure of what to say. “You ruined my dress.”

“I know, I’m really sorry,” he said again, “it was all Freddie’s doing! I know he normally takes charge of pranks, but blimey, I told him it wasn’t a good idea.”

You arched your eyebrows up in surprise. “You did?”

“Yeah,” George told you. The wind ruffled the leaves on the tree next to you both, and you watched him tentatively as a big smile split his face. He wandered over to the tree trunk and picked at the flowers that were growing at the base. Then he turned around, marched right over to you, and handed them to you.

Yellow dandelions. You peered down at them, and then looked up at him in surprise. This wouldn’t fix your dress, but he was trying, at least. You noticed the dimples that appeared on his cheeks when he smiled. “Pretty flowers for a pretty girl.”

You couldn’t help it; you blushed and looked toward the ground. You picked a bit at the flowers and met George’s gaze once again. “You still owe me, Weasley.”

You both heard Molly calling him for dinner. “Okay, mum!” he called back, his voice echoing against the wind. He turned back toward you. “Promise. I owe you. I also promise to kick Fred’s arse since it was his idea anyway.”

A squeak of a giggle emitted from your lips and you watched as George Weasley skipped all the way home.

Blue

All of Ravenclaw house erupted into cheers as the colours of the Great Hall changed to celebrate the momentous occasion of your house winning the Quidditch Cup. It had been a neck to neck match against Gryffindor, but had you not caught the snitch before Harry, they would have had it in the bag for the third year in a row.

“At the risk of sounding like I’m pro Ravenclaw, I’ve got to say, you guys put up a great match,” you whirled around in the crowd and saw George standing in front of you. He had his hands in his pockets and he shrugged, clearly upset at a Gryffindor loss, but at least they hadn’t lost to Slytherin, right? “You really are a wicked Seeker.”

“Thanks, Weasley,” you said triumphantly, both pleased with yourself for winning but also feeling a little bit guilty for beating Gryffindor.

“When did you get so good anyway?”

“Hmm,” you placed your hand to your chin and pretended to be deep in thought, “do you mean, how did I get to be so incredible? I don’t have an answer for you, truthfully, reckon I was just born with it.”

Students filtered around you both, and you watched him laugh as blue confetti fell around the both of you and the rest of the Great Hall. Personally you thought it was a little much, but the captain had insisted. You met George’s gaze again though, and rolled your eyes.

“Oi, mate,” you heard Fred call. He reached his twin and threw an arm around his shoulders, “what’re you doing over here, conversing with the enemy?” You rolled your eyes yet again, something you found yourself doing quite often with the two of them, and Fred just grinned obnoxiously at you. “Only joking, Y/N. I suppose if anyone had to beat us, we’re glad it’s Ravenclaw. But if you repeat that, we’ll deny it, I swear to Merlin.”

“My lips are sealed, Freddie.”

You bid them both adieu before turning back to your house, celebrating and clinking your goblets of pumpkin juice together, and through the yelps and the cheers, you missed George say to Fred that he actually quite liked the way the Great Hall looked, all decorated in blue.

Orange

“How about you get to work on the ground Unicorn horn, and I’ll try and get this water crystalized?” you offered.

Today’s lesson was to brew the Oculus Potion, in the event any of you ever needed to restore someone’s sight. In an attempt to separate them, Snape had paired George with you and Fred with another Ravenclaw who didn’t look happy at all at the prospect of having him as her partner. You peered over the cauldron at George and said, “No worries. We’ve only got thirteen steps. I reckon if we keep at this without any distractions, we’ll be finished before the rest of class.”

“Better get cracking, then,” George replied.

The two of you worked in comfortable silence; you tensed a few times when Snape meandered by your table, peering down into your cauldron and scoffing, for you were certain that an attempt at any type of potion would never live up to his unrealistic expectations of two sixteen-year-olds.

A little while later, you realized that the heat emitting from all of the cauldrons was making the entire classroom incredibly warm. “Blimey, could he open a bloody window, or something?” you asked, ignoring the fact that there were absolutely no windows in the dungeons. George laughed and continued to add the crystalized water into your cauldron as you pulled your sweater over your head, leaving you in your white button down and blue and grey tie. You pulled your hair back off of your neck and said, “Alright, be sure to only add the water until it turns indigo, George.”

The poor lad hadn’t been paying attention, because your potion was far past indigo at this point. In fact, it looked as though it had turned a deep, navy blue, bordering on black, as George peered at you with soft eyes and continued to pour in the crystalized water, not realizing that he was messing up your carefully brewed potion. A snapping noise pulled him from his thoughts, and a slight explosion erupted from your cauldron and caused black smoke to cover George’s face and hair.

Most of the class began to laugh, but Snape angrily shushed them and sauntered over to the two of you, clearly giddy beyond belief that he was able to deduct points from both of your houses for causing such a ruckus in his precious dungeons. George wiped a bit of the soot from his forehead as you poured in the antidote and giggled.

“Merlin, I’m sorry -- didn’t mean to get points taken from your house.”

“Eh, it was bound to happen sooner or later.. don’t worry about it. Look! Good as new,” you clapped your hands together as the potion turned to the desired shade of orange before the final two steps. You met George’s look through the orange haze over your cauldron and asked him, “What had you so distracted anyway, Weasley?”

“Oh, erm -- nothing,” he replied a bit quickly. It didn’t go unnoticed how he’d stumbled over his words and immediately went back to looking rather intently at the directions. You bit back a smile and looked back down at yours too, unable to rid yourself of the nerves bubbling up inside of you as George looked up once again, stealing glances at you through the orange mist as nerves overtook him, too.

Green

“You had no right to do that! What the bloody hell were you thinking?”

George was standing across from you on the empty dance floor; the Yule Ball had ended abruptly and each and every student had filtered from the Great Hall and back to their respective dormitories, per the teachers. The two of you had managed to stay somehow, now more than ten feet away; you looked at one another with envy as a dramatic scene unfurled between you both.

The entire night had been nothing but a dream, up until that one dance. You’d waltzed in, your light green dress swaying beautifully near your ankles, your hand wrapped around your date’s arm. You waved to your friends, who stood with their respective dates as well, and promised yourself you’d catch up with them at the end of the night when you’d undoubtedly have stories to tell them of the most magical evening of your life.

Except that wasn’t how it worked out, had it?

“He was all over you!” George called, and you noticed how prominent the veins in his hands were when he threw them up in the air. “You said no, didn’t you? He asked you to come back to his dorm and you’d said no. Did you expect me to stand there and do nothing when he grabbed your wrists and tried to pull you there?”

George was right. You had said no, and truthfully, the way your date had grabbed you and attempted to drag you back to his room had really frightened you. You reckoned it was the firewhisky he’d drunk earlier that evening -- he wasn’t violent or anything, but he seemed desperate to get you there. All George had done was step in and stand up for you, so why on earth should you be angry at him?

You didn’t want to give George the satisfaction of letting him know that he was right. You were mad at him for other reasons, anyway. It should’ve been you that he asked to the ball, not that other disturbingly annoying Beauxbatons girl. It’s like he’d picked her particularly because he knew her annoying, bubbly personality and thick French accent would get right under your skin.

You softened a bit as you took a deep breath. “I appreciate what you did, George, but it wasn’t your place. I can take care of myself. He nearly knocked you right out!”

George winced at your words and brought a hand to his black and blue eye. He hadn’t even had the time to grab some ice and place it to the injury, and it was now rather swollen. “I don’t care if he knocked me to the bloody ground, I wasn’t going to let him do that to you!”

You couldn’t help it; anger took you over and you were saying things you shouldn’t have before you could second guess yourself. “Well you know what, George? Perhaps he wouldn’t have had the chance to try anything with me if you’d just bloody asked me to the ball first instead of that stuffy Beauxbatons girl!”

You knew your words hurt him, but you didn’t care. He looked as though he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him; he stepped backward and faltered a bit. His breathing became heavy and irregular. “You already had your date when I asked her, Y/N -- don’t you dare try and pin this on me.”

He was right, yet again. You couldn’t help it. Big, fat tears were falling down your face now and you reckoned you wouldn’t be able to salvage the rest of the hideousness that was this evening. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and noticed the smears of black mascara and eyeliner on your skin. He inched forward now and opened his arms, but you backed away, still not ready to show him any affection.

You were being a git, but the truth was, you’d waited until the very last possible second for George to ask you to the ball. So when he didn’t, you begrudgingly agreed to the Hufflepuff who’d stepped forward and asked you himself. And as you walked swiftly passed George and up the steps to your common room, you realized that though you’d said yes, your heart had been with the Weasley boy you so adored the entire evening.

In truth, what he’d done was brave and full of love and passion. But you were still filled with hurt.

The green monster of jealousy that you’d felt when you’d watched him dance with his date was such a vice, but you just couldn’t help how you felt.

You left George alone in the desolate Great Hall as he let his head fall into his hands, pushing down his fury and tears.

Grey

You hadn’t gone back to him, that boy from the Yule Ball. You thought about it, but you figured you’d spare George more anger.

He’d approached you, your date, the day afterwards, apologizing profusely for his behaviour and how embarrassed he was at the whole ordeal. He’d asked you for lunch, only if you were okay, and you politely declined. “Friends,” you’d said, and he smiled pitifully, but gratefully, and took your hand in his to shake it.

It was so stupid, wasn’t it? Fighting with George over this. So he hadn’t asked you to the Yule Ball, so what? It wasn’t the end all, be all, was it? And he’d stood up for you, hadn’t he? When things had gotten a little out of control. He hadn’t been your date, but he had been your saviour.

It had only been a week since the dance and you two hadn’t said a word to one another. Fred had begged you too. “Come on, Y/N, you know he’s real sorry. Can’t you just forgive him? Blimey, it’s a right difficult thing to do, splitting my time between you both.”

You merely pressed your lips together and huffed. “He can come apologize to me himself, Fred. He doesn’t need you to do it for him.”

But later that afternoon, you figured, why wait? This whole thing was so dramatic and stupid. And so after rereading the same page eight times due to your lack of concentration, you jumped up from your chair in the Ravenclaw common room and made way toward the Great Hall, as fast as your legs could carry you. You were just going to tell him exactly that -- that this entire thing was dumb, and that you were thankful for him, and that bloody hell, you missed him. Perhaps it was a bit dramatic -- it had only been six days, right? You couldn’t help it. You missed him. You missed him a lot.

The thought of finally speaking to him after a very dramatic week apart made your heart flutter, and a very wide smile split your face just as you were about to round the last bend before the Great Hall.

And then you saw it. Them. Tucked away in a corner near a deserted classroom -- tangled together, George’s hands on her waist, hers in his long red hair. Her lips nearly on his. Smiling, giggling. Kissing him.

That bloody annoying Beauxbatons girl.

You stopped short and nearly tripped over your own two feet. You opened your mouth to speak but just let your mouth tremble in silence as you watched them snog one another. Her laugh was so painfully sugary sweet, you felt as though you’d like to rip your own hair out.

You were surprised how quickly the sight of them had sent your heart plummeting into your stomach. Somewhere in the few moments when you stood there in shock, your vision had become blurry and your face had become wet. You wiped at it with your sweater sleeve and sniffled quietly so they wouldn’t hear you. You spun on your heel and sped back toward your common room, wondering what the bloody hell had come over you when you thought of apologizing to him. You just wanted to get back to your dorm. Or perhaps back to your house in Ottery St. Catchpole. Stupid, silly girl you were.

If only you knew that George had spotted you before you’d left and froze solid in the spot he was standing, ignoring the forwardness of the Beauxbatons girl attached to his arm, his heart and mind chasing you all the way home.

Purple

The Ravenclaw common room was completely empty except for you. You always did this, though -- each and every year, you were always the last to finish packing. Not because you were a procrastinator, but because you hated admitting to yourself that another year was over, and you were another year closer to impending graduation.

Someone popped through the door and said your name softly. You turned and saw George standing there with a small smile on his face. “Hey,” he said, “train’s here. You almost ready to go?”

You groaned and looked back down at your trunk, now fully packed. “If I’ve got to be.” You felt like an absolute idiot that those few words brought tears to your eyes so easily. “Oi, here I go again.”

George laughed lightly and pulled you into a hug. “We’ll be back in no time, you’ll see again how quickly the summer holidays go.”

“But George, it’s our last year!” you cried. And then you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, because you didn’t fancy the idea of boarding the train with smudged makeup and a red nose. “Anyway, shall we?”

When you grabbed your trunk and headed toward the door, George gently took your hand in his and turned you around. “I’ve got something for you actually.”

You wiggled your eyebrows at him and clapped your hands together. “A present? It’s not even my birthday.”

But then you wondered if it was actually a present he wanted to give you, because he took your other hand in his and squeezed them, a serious look on his face. Your features twisted into that of confusion, and you’d be lying if you said that your heartbeat didn’t increase at the sight of him looking at you so earnestly. “What is it?”

“I’ve been a real git this year. Specifically, the Yule Ball. And a little while after that.”

You laughed and playfully shoved him. Though you still felt the sting of those few weeks, you two had managed to patch things up. He hadn’t lasted that long with that Beauxbatons girl anyway. “George, we’ve been over this, c’mon -- you were only doing what you thought was right. I’ve forgiven you, you know.”

“I know,” he smiled, and you could tell that he was equally as glad as you were that you two had placed that argument behind you. But what you two hadn’t touched on since then was what you’d said to him in a fit of fury: Perhaps he wouldn’t have had the chance to try anything with me if you’d just bloody asked me to the ball first instead of that stuffy Beauxbatons girl!

Of course he’d wanted to ask you. He’d wanted to ask you more than anything in the entire world, but each and every time he’d opened his mouth to say something, he couldn’t. Bloody nerves, and all that. Then he went and acted like a prat, making you cry, and he vowed to himself that he’d never make you cry again, unless it were happy tears.

“I realized I’ve never properly made it up to you -- not asking you to the the Yule Ball in the first place, and that time when we were nine.”

You raised your eyebrows suspiciously. “When we were nine? What the bloody hell happened when we were nine?”

And then he pulled from his pocket the most beautiful lavender pendant you ever did see. The circular stone was outlined in the same silver as the chain, and the sun flooding in from the windows made it sparkle more than anything you’d ever seen in your life. Your breath caught in your throat and you looked back and forth from the necklace to George, and back again.

“I ruined your purple dress, remember?” he asked you. He laughed a bit, probably thinking about the ridiculous way you’d looked with red paint splattered all over you. You couldn’t believe he remembered that. “Now, it’s not a dress, but seeing as we’ve grown up a bit since then, I reckoned you’d prefer something a little nicer.” He swallowed over a lump in his throat before continuing. “I never fancied her, you know. That girl from Beauxbatons. I just...” he trailed off, searching for words he couldn’t seem to muster up. You wondered if he could hear the dramatic thump of your heart, beating loudly in the heavy silence. “It doesn’t matter. It was you I wanted to be with that night, and long after. I still do.”

Then he brushed aside your hair and placed the pendant around your neck. You peered at him through blurry vision, and surprised yourself that you were now crying due to the tenderness of his touch and the emotion in his gift and not that you two were about the board the train and leave school, no longer the same two people you were just a few moments ago.

You did the only thing you could think of and you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. You felt his shock, but it took him only mere milliseconds before he was kissing you back. In truth, you’d been wondering what it would feel like to kiss him -- the taste of him, the feel of your limbs entangled together, exactly how high your heart would soar. It was exactly the way first kisses were meant to be -- slow, and easy, and warm, the way it’s supposed to feel after having swam all day long -- your body limp and muscles de-tensing. You moulded perfectly with him, and when gravity (or rather, the first signal of the train’s departure) pulled you from one another, he peered at you with such affection that you felt as though you might explode.

You grabbed the pendant and held in gently in between your fingers, already having memorized the outline of the silver and the different shades of purple within it. “I am so bloody happy you threw red paint at me that day, Weasley.”

He laughed haughtily, throwing his head back before swinging an arm around your waist and pulling your trunk toward the exit of the Ravenclaw common room. “Merlin, me too.”

White

You were sitting at your kitchen table, ignoring the massive amount of work in front of you to admire your other hard work. Your cozy little flat looked just as you always imagined it would, with the added bonus of your boyfriend in the corner of the front entrance, fixing a loose coat hanger on the wall.

Never in your life did you imagine that things could be as perfect as this.

You couldn’t help but wonder if it would be a flat you two would share one day.

You got up and brought with you his half empty glass of wine and handed it to him. Gratefully he took it and sipped before pressing a feather light kiss to your forehead. But then you gently traced his jawline with your finger, down his neck, across his collar bone until he followed your move and leaned in to kiss you. It was soft and chaste and everything like your first one had been. But as the alcohol worked its way through your veins, you found yourself pressing yourself harder against him.

A moan of content escaped him as you bit down on his lip and slipped your hands underneath his shirt, hands pressed against his chest. Unashamedly, you pulled him toward your bedroom, and he placed his empty wine glass next to yours on the table as he kicked the door closed.

The two of you fell backwards onto the bed in an entanglement of limbs. He hovered above you, dropping down a bit to press light kisses to your neck, in between your collarbones, behind your ears, against your jawline. You so desperately wanted to feel his weight on top of you, and so you yanked him firmly against you and kissed him in a way that there was no aching way that he wouldn’t be able to tell exactly what you wanted.

He began to undo the buttons on your shirt, taking time to press kisses into your chest at the exposed places before he stopped himself and gently ran his hands across your hips, and then your cheek. His voice was merely a whisper in the deafening silence, “Are you sure?”

He gazed at you with such tenderness and love that you knew he’d stop, if you’d asked him to. He wouldn’t go another inch further if you weren’t ready. And for you, that was more than enough.

“I’m sure.”

He sucked in a breath and dipped down to press lips to yours gently before continuing to make light work of your clothes. He explored every inch of you, and the sensation of his lips gently grazing your skin caused you to arch your back in pleasure. You could feel him smiling against you, wildly in love, handling you with such care as if you were a tiny glass figure he was afraid of breaking. He held you so delicately and worked his way through each and every single one of your wants with slow and gentle hands.

You’d known it was love with him; maybe not consciously, but you’d known it long before now. Love, filled with intensity and desire and longing, in its most vulnerable and fragile form -- pure, and blinding white.

Pink

The summer air wafted in through the open window in the kitchen, and you listened to Mrs. Weasley hum some Muggle song as she set the table for dessert. You placed the finishing touches on the lemon meringue pie you baked, special because it was George’s favourite and Mrs. Weasley had insisted.

You had to admit, he’d always had the outside exterior of a tough guy, but owning a business did absolute wonders for his confidence. You noticed the way he stood up a little straighter, smiled a little bigger, and most of all, just how much he gushed about all the plans you two would be able to act on, now that you were both making income of your own.

“Merlin’s beard, Y/N, you’ve absolutely knocked it out of the park with this pie, if I do say so myself.” Arthur’s praise was nothing short of wonderful; you felt the tips of your ears turn pink at his compliments. By the way Ron slouched back in his chair, looking rather chuffed indeed, you could tell he felt the same exact way. Especially when he reached for the last piece, but Hermione slapped his hand away.

“Oh my!” Molly yelped suddenly. You jumped in surprise in your seat. “Oh, Georgie dear, would you mind wandering into the field before dark? I’d love some wildflowers for the table,”

“Sure thing, mum.” George replied before turning to you and squeezing your hand. “Want to tag along?”

You said, “Of course” at the exact same time Ron said “I’ll come along too, I could use a good walk” and if you hadn’t been so focused on George’s tender gaze, you almost would’ve missed Fred silently hissing at Ron and Hermione slapping his hand yet again. “On second thought,” Ron swallowed thickly, “I’d better stay here and help you clean up, mum.”

“Atta boy, Ronniekins,” Molly said. To you and George, she continued, “You two better get going -- not long now before it turns dark!”

George stood and pulled you to your feet. “You coming, love?”

“I go where you go.”

About twenty minutes later, as the setting sun had blended with the light purples and pinks of the sky, you’d found yourself with a rather beautiful bouquet of wildflowers for Molly. You turned to George, who was leaning against the tree and smiling at you, and asked, “Shall we get going darling? Don’t want to be too late. I reckon your mum will come out here searching for us if we spend an evening among the stars.”

“Doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea, actually.” His grin deepened, and then he said, “you’re lucky I don’t have any pranks up my sleeve right now.”

You look up at the tree and recognized the place where he’d infuriated you all those long years ago. You rolled your eyes and shook your head before twirling in your dress. “I am lucky. I was able to get a new dress after the one you so lovingly ruined. Though I will admit -- I wasn’t all that big of a fan of those puffy sleeves. This one’s much more adult.”

George arched his eyebrow in surprise before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. “Oh yes it is.”

You slapped him playfully and pointed your finger at him. “Alright you prat, calm yourself, you’ll have to wait until we get back to our flat for any funny business.”

But then you realized, as George’s features turned from mischievous to genuine within the matter of seconds, that there was definitely more pressing matters than funny business on his mind.

And then he was telling you how he’d only teased you back then because he’d found you so bloody cute, and how he should’ve asked you to the Yule Ball and regretted every single day that he didn’t, and how he’d never met anyone who could play Quidditch quite as well as you, and how bloody happy he’d been when you’d kissed him that day in the Ravenclaw common room. And then knelt down and he asked it, the words you’d imagined since you were a little girl, strung together with such fondness and emotion and tenderness that you weren’t quite sure how you were standing upright.

You’d already begun to nod quickly through your tears before he finished, but would he really be George Weasley if he didn’t tease you, just a little? “Say yes,” he laughed, “say yes and marry me and be my wife for as long as you’ll have me.”

He slid the ring onto your finger and kissed you and picked you up and whirled you around in the field and held you gently in his arms as though you were a precious glass figurine and he was doing everything in his power to hold you delicately.

“Yes. I say yes.”

Black & White

You asked, When did you first know?

And he answered, I always knew.

You both ran back up the aisle, your white dress fluttering around your ankles, his black suit hugging the curves of his arms, and into the field and away from the party, momentarily, to celebrate your first moments as husband and wife in the place where he’d figured it all out.

He’d known since that afternoon when he’d handed you those yellow dandelions that he would bring you back here one day, to ask you to be his wife. He’d known, in the Ravenclaw common room when he gave you that purple pendant, still dangling from your neck, that one day he’d also give you a ring. He’d known, all those long years ago, that he wanted to marry you, and that you would say yes, when he’d finally ask.

And now, in front of your friends and family, he’d vowed to love you -- love in it’s purest and simplest form, love -- with all it’s sentiment and emotion and vulnerability. He vowed to love you and only you for the rest of his life.

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Wanda Maximoff / Reader - WandaVision Canon Divergence

Gif is not mine.

Summary: You liked the simplicity of life in Westview, it was quiet and mundane, completely different from what you have lived all your life. So when a witch rewrites the reality around you, you are slightly annoyed.

Warnings: This is trash, lot of swearing, idk really know what i was trying to write here., a bit of fluff but mostly my attempt at humor; hopeful ending.

Words> 3895k ///// Read on AO3 too.

You were trying to remember how you got where you were. Your last memory was making breakfast, a little while after feeding your cat, and then everything went silent. You blinked again, and there were people in your house, whom you called husband and children, who were smiling and speaking words that you thought were funny.

And now sitting on your bed, while a stranger slept next to you, you could finally realize that something was not right.

Feeling a ringing in your ear, you tried to wake up. It felt like someone was inside your head, pushing your consciousness down. You took a deep breath, clenching your fists, using all your mental control to resist.

And then your memories hit you in an instant, and you lost your breath. All your life returned to you. Rising abruptly from your shock, you looked around.

Your house was completely different from before, and your first impulse was to look for Mr. Whiskers, but you couldn't find him anywhere.

Looking down you noticed that you were wearing an old dress, and you grumbled discontentedly. You hate dresses. You didn't have time to worry about it, though.

You tried to remember who was controlling you, but every time you thought the image was getting through, you heard a noise, and lost your concentration.

Turning to the man sleeping in your bed, you frowned at the image. He was the newspaper delivery man on Seventh Street. You had never had any contact with him at all. And now he looked troubled, as if he was having a bad dream.

You raised your fingers to the man's forehead and read his thoughts.

Choking on the intensity of the pure pain you felt, you stopped touching him then, stumbling backwards. What the fuck was that, you thought. But remembering the dream, you now knew who was doing it to him.

Putting on the first pair of shoes you found around the house, you walk out the front door, trying to feel the energy of the witch who was doing this, as you walked around the town.

A woman stopped you, smiling strangely. You had never seen her around here before.

- Are you all right, darling? - she asked. You noticed that everything looked antique, the clothes, the decorations.

- Actually I'm looking for someone. - You answered, and she kept that weird friendly smile. You didn't trust her, and honestly, all this nonsense was getting on your nerves.

- Oh, I can help you if you like. - She said cheerfully, and you took a step back. She didn't seem to mind, then spoke up: - And how is your family? I hear Thomas is giving you trouble at school.

You blinked in confusion, starting to get annoyed.

- Who the fuck is thomas? - You shouted. - You know what, stay away from me!

The woman stood there in shock for a moment, and you took advantage of this to turn her around and keep walking.

But then you felt something grab you by the neck, you fell breathlessly to your knees, raising your hands to remove the grip, and noticing that it was magic. Great, two witches, you thought.

- You won't spoil the narrative, dear. - said the woman, now sounding much more threatening. She loosened the spell just so that you could breathe, and then turned you to face her. - I didn't know we had another witch in town.

- I am not a witch. - You grumbled. - I'm a mutant.

- I beg your pardon?

- A fucking mutant. - You retorted angrily. - You don't have much of that here, do you.

- And why are you here?

- Can you please let me go? - You strike back, and the woman looks at you with irony. - I'm not going to attack you.

- Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. - She sneers. You let out an impatient sigh.

- Look, I was living very well here. And then somebody put a 1950s filter on my life, and just disappeared with my pet cat. And I really liked him. - you say, getting up. - So if you and your witch friend can take whatever all this shit is somewhere else, I'll be very grateful.

The woman considered for a moment, and then smiled, offering a hand for you to shake. You raised your eyebrows.

- Agatha Harkness, sweetheart. - She introduced herself, and you shook her hand, feeling the magical energy in her fingers. - I'll tell you everything.

She said as she released you from the magical chain, and dragged you by the arm along the street.

Agatha served you tea when you arrived at her house. You noticed that the place was also decorated like in the forties. Your head was hurting a little, you could feel the pressure of the magic trying to make you obey.

- It's painful, isn't it? - says Agatha, looking at you closely. - I have never seen a human resist with such intensity.

You shrug.

- It's just mind control, isn't it? Everyone can learn to resist it. - You say, making Agatha laugh slightly.

- Oh, no, dear. - She denies it. - This is magic. It is not so simple to avoid.

You take a sip of your tea, it tastes good after all.

- Weren't you going to tell me what's going on here? - you ask, changing the subject. You don't trust Agatha, and you have no intention of chatting with her.

She lets out a giggle at your impatience.

- We have a witch in town. - She explains. - The very powerful kind. I'm trying to find out what is going on here.

- Do you work for the government or something?

- Oh no, I am from a special organization. - She says mysteriously, you shrug. You don't really care, you just want things to go back to normal. If Agatha can help you with that, you will work with her.

- Fine then. - you say, finishing your tea. - And how do we end this spell?

- It doesn't end. - she says, and you blink in surprise. - The witch who conjured it needs to remove it.

- Fucking hell. - You complain, getting up.

- Where are you going?

- To talk to a witch! I'm sick of this shit.

You open the door, but Agatha uses her magic to close it at the same instant. You let out an irritated grunt.

- What's the problem? - You say to her, turning to face her. Agatha has a thoughtful expression.

- What exactly are your abilities?

- It doesn't matter. - You say. - I won't use them. Can I go now?

- I intended to play the girl's game to find out what's going on here.

You let out a short laugh.

- You're kidding me, right? There are thousands of people here who have had their lives completely changed, and you have the power to put an end to it, and you're more interested in studying the witch than stopping her. - you exclaimed angrily. And then you opened the door, Agatha didn't stop you this time, a mixed gleam of surprise and curiosity in her eyes. - I'm going to end this nonsense now. I don't have the time or patience for games.

You left the house, looking around, and were slightly startled to see Agatha standing right next to you, as if she had just teleported there. She gave you a mischievous smile before pointing to the next residence.

You stepped forward to the front door, and knocked on the wood. It didn't take long for you to answer the door.

- Hello, good evening. - Greeted a tall, blond man. You hesitated for a moment, the noise his mind echoed was low, almost non-existent.

- Vision, darling! - Said a voice beside you before you could respond. Agatha placed one hand on your shoulder as she greeted the man with the other. They smiled politely. - I wanted to introduce my niece to Wanda! She came from the south to visit me.

You frowned, blinking in disbelief. Vision smiled, making room for the two of you to enter the house. Agatha pushed you inside, whispering in your ear to play nice, and you rolled your eyes without patience.

And then a woman entered the room, and you could tell you were relatively surprised at how beautiful she was. But this was no time to think about things like that.

- Agatha, darling, good evening! - greeted the woman.

- Hi Wanda, how are you?

They greeted each other with a quick hug while you stood there, arms crossed, not believing the acting.

- This is my niece, she came to stay at my house for a few days. - Agatha said, giving you a gentle nudge with her elbow to introduce yourself. You let out a sigh, forcing a smile at the redhead as you held out your hand to her.

- I am Y/N. - You said, and almost choked when Wanda touched your hand, feeling an electric current go through your body. Wanda's eyes widened, probably feeling it too, but she didn't say anything, letting go of the squeeze.

- We just wanted to say hello, and see how you were doing. - Agatha said with a smile, and Wanda looked at her in the same way. And then the man named Vision came over, hugging the redhead on the side and matching smiles. You squeezed your eyes shut, not believing the scene.

- Is everybody here crazy? - you exclaimed with irritation. Wanda and Vision looked at you with confusion, and Agatha made an angry expression as if to tell you to shut up, but you just raised your hand at her and kept talking. - Look, I don't know what's going on here, and honestly I don't care. If you could just stop the whole show, I'd appreciate it.

All three were quiet for a moment, completely confused. And then the doorbell rang

As Wanda went to answer the door, Agatha pinched your arm, and you just grunted in pain, asking her if those people were mental.

- Pietro? - said the woman looking tearful. The man hugged her then, and then when he turned to you, you let out a surprised exclamation.

- What the fuck are you doing here? - you exclaimed, and everyone looked at you in confusion and surprise. But you felt a mixture of relief and happiness. - Peter, how are you here?

You asked, approaching the boy. But he had a confused expression, as if he didn't really know you. You shook your head in irritation.

- Okay, this is too weird. - You declared. - What the hell is going on? How did Peter get here? Who are you, and why don't I have any pants in my closet?

Agatha let out a nervous laugh, probably hoping that the couple would reconsider their little outburst. But then Wanda acquired a serious expression, her eyes glowing red as she stood in front of you.

- Who are you? - she asked.

- I'm the one who is asking. - You countered. - You are the one who invaded my town and changed the decoration of my house. And more importantly, where the fuck is my cat?

Wanda looked surprised for a moment, and then she held up one hand, a red glow coming from her fingers. You raised your eyebrows.

- I'll ask you again.

- Was that meant to intimidate me? - You reply with irony, nodding your head at the red glow.

- Wanda, dear, what's going on? - Vision asked, sounding really confused. You imagined he was being controlled too. Wanda looked slightly perturbed, and then she launched a large amount of energy at you, pushing you hard enough to break through the wall, and you rolled a few feet into the grass outside.

- Fucking great. - You grumbled as you stood up. Wanda was already coming toward you, her fists and eyes red.

- I want you out of my home.

You wiped the grass from your clothes, laughing wryly.

- You are the one who came to my town, Wanda. - You say in a calmer tone. - I just want things back to normal, and more importantly, I want the newspaper vendor out of my bed.

- I don't understand what you are talking about. - Wanda says with a mixture of confusion and anger in her voice. You frown. Did she really not know what she was doing?

You looked away from her to Agatha, who seemed to be enjoying the whole conflict. You let out a grumble of annoyance.

- That is great. Fucking great. - You muttered as you began to walk in circles, wondering what exactly to do. - Look, I don't know exactly what's going on here. But I do know that this is not my life. And well, it's nobody's life either. That guy over there is not even from this universe! - You explain and point at Peter, or Pietro, with your finger. He looks at you with raised eyebrows. - I just need you to undo whatever this is all about.

- I don't ... - Wanda murmured, looking perplexed. You sighed.

- Maybe I can help you remember. - You suggest. Wanda nods her head in agreement.

Agatha approaches quickly, a smile on her lips.

- I would like to participate, please. - she says. You roll your eyes.

- This will only take a second. - You say tenderly to the redhead. And you raise a finger to her forehead and one to Agatha's, and then you remember.

You see Agatha's memories first. All the hate, and the ambition. She and Wanda walk beside you through the memories. You look closely, wrapped up in the feelings. Agatha had a lot of anger and a lot of hurt, but she was extremely powerful.

She doesn't seem to mind sharing, and even the most painful memories no longer affect her.

When you see Wanda's memories, however, everything seems to hurt like a freshly opened wound. The death of her parents, the loss of Pietro, and the death of Vision. You feel her emptiness, her pulsating pain. It takes the air out of your lungs, and you just wish you could take that feeling away from her. No one should ever feel this way. As you wade through the memories, you don't understand why none of the people in her life helped her deal with her grief.

When you stop looking at the memories, you are back in front of the house, no time has really passed in reality, only in your heads. Thick tears stream down Wanda's face, and you resist the urge to dry them, thinking that you didn't really have this intimacy.

But before you can say anything, Agatha lets out a laugh that startles both you and Wanda.

- Have you gone mad too? - You remark, but a purple haze comes over her, and then she is wearing a different costume. You figure it's her "`witch's outfit,'" and let out a giggle.

- You have no idea how dangerous you are, Mrs. Maximoff. - She says, lifting herself into the air with her own magic. You should know better, witches are always so dramatic. - You're supposed to be a myth.

Wanda looks a mixture of nervousness and impatience. You just cross your arms, waiting for the speech to be over.

- A being capable of spontaneous creation, and here you are. Using to serve breakfast for dinner. - Agatha says with irony. You frown slightly, not catching the reference. - All this little life you have created here. This is chaos magic, Wanda. And that makes you a Scarlet Witch.

- Okay, that's enough, right? - You interrupt, putting yourself in front of Wanda, only to look at Agatha impatiently. - What exactly are you planning to do? Because if I'm not going to help the city, my interest is zero.

Agatha looks really shocked by your intrusion, and it takes a second, or rather a muffled laugh from Peter, or Pietro, laughing at the situation for her to acquire an angry expression and launch a big magic energy ball at you.

Letting out an impatient sigh, you watch the shocked and impressed expressions as you just absorb Agatha's power.

- Good, let's do the introductions then. - You say, and raise your hand, pulling Agatha to the floor. All that theater was wearing you out. - My name is Y/N. I am what you call a mutant, or homo superior. My abilities consist of absorbing, altering, and enhancing the powers of other mutants. The cute one over there - you signaled Pietro - is from my universe too, his name is Peter Maximoff. I came to this world after an accident, about seven years ago. I never made it back. A bald woman put me in this city, and told me to live a quiet life here. And everything was fine, until you arrived. - You say, pointing at Wanda. - Look, I've never met any Wanda Maximoff in my world, but I know we have scarlet witches there. Anyway, would you have any way to remove the spell from Westview? I'd like to get back to my normal life.

Wanda is in shock for a few seconds, and Agatha lets out a laugh. Maybe she has finally given in to insanity, you think.

- You can't stand in my way! You don't know how much I've had to sacrifice to get here.

- Agatha, stop the drama. - You respond, walking over to her and helping her to her feet. - I didn't do anything, I just absorbed the magic you threw at me. What did you expect to do anyway, huh? Absorb Wanda's power?

Agatha grimaces, nodding. You roll your eyes.

- That's ridiculous, you have more than enough power, - you say. - What's the problem with villains and boundaries - You grumble and walk toward Wanda, smiling tenderly at her. - Hey, Wanda. Can we liberate the city now? I'll wait for you to say goodbye to Vision.

Wanda frowns, and you give her a sad smile. It takes a moment, but she nods, turning toward Vision, who had been watching everything in silence until now. She walks back into the house, fixing the wall she had thrown you through as she enters, and you figure they will say goodbye with a little privacy.

While you wait, you turn to Agatha and Peter.

- So who will tell me how he got here? - you ask, with a mixture of seriousness and playfulness in your voice.

Agatha sighs impatiently.

- I made a deal with a demon. Simple stuff, really. - She says.

You raise your eyebrow.

- Oh yeah, right. - You agree with irony. - Is he at least the Peter Maximoff of my world, or just a spiritual copy?

- You'll have to ask Mephisto that. - She answers. You let out a sigh, running out of patience. And then you walk over to Peter, and read his mind. And you see nothing but Westview.

- Great, it's empty. - You grumble. Peter looks surprised. - You have a whole life here. His name is Ralph by the way. - You say. - I just don't understand where the super speed comes from.

- Well, he's still a copy. - Agatha suggests, and you shrug, turning to her.

- I imagine you'll try something very illegal and dangerous if I let you out of here, huh? - You joke, and she flashes you a wry smile.

- You could be a nice girl, and lend me some of your abilities. - She looks at you suggestively. You raise your eyebrows wryly.

- On my world they said that a mutant like me would be responsible for annihilation. I don't think it would be wise to use my abilities on people as powerful as you.

Agatha fakes a hurt look, but you surprise her by holding her hands.

- You will stay away from Wanda, okay? - You ask tenderly, making Agatha's eyes widen. - Or I will drain every last drop of magic out of you myself.

What could you say, having seen all of someone's memories created a bond. You can't help but care about Wanda. In fact, you even cared about Agatha too.

You watched as Hex began to diminish, finally realizing that you were in a kind of bubble until now.

Putting your hands in your pockets, you smiled at the other two beside you. - I hope it doesn't hurt.

Peter laughed, but Agatha seemed too shocked by your last words to react to anything.

Hex finally reached you, and you watched the house in front of you turn into a plot of land. Wanda stood in the center, her head bowed.

You waited for her to walk over to you.

- What happens now? - she asked in a broken voice. You smiled, trying to cheer her up.

- I'll take you out for some hot chocolate. - You say, offering your arm for her to hold. Wanda gives you a sad smile, but accepts. As you walk with her toward your house, you wave to Agatha and Peter.

You let out an exclamation of joy when Mr. Whiskers runs to your feet just as you open the door. You pick him up, petting his ears as he purrs. Wanda follows you across the room, appearing unfocused.

You place him on the floor, and motion for Wanda to sit down, as you head toward the kitchen to prepare the chocolate for you two.

- Here it is. - You say as you bring the drink to Wanda. She has a lost look in her eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek, not knowing exactly what to say. - Do you want to talk about it?

Wanda shrugs, tasting the chocolate.

- I don't know what else to say. - She confesses, her voice breaking. - I'm tired.

- I'm so sorry for everything, Wanda. - You say sincerely, looking at her. You want to wipe the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes. - But I'm going to stay with you now. You won't be alone anymore.

Wanda looks away, tears finally streaming down her face. She excuses herself, wiping them away quickly.

- Why are you doing this? - she asks. - Why are you helping me?

- Why wouldn't I? - You shoot back as if it were obvious.

- I just kidnapped an entire city. You don't even know me.

- Everyone makes mistakes. - You joke and shrug. - Your mistakes are only bigger because of your magic. Besides, I saw your head. You were in pain, and you lost control. You would be surprised how many times I have seen this happen. - You count, and Wanda shakes her head in disbelief at your reassurance. You give her a smile, and signal her to drink the chocolate before it gets cold.

You are silent for a moment before she speaks again.

- I can't stay here. - she says. - This city. Vision... he...

- Let's leave, then. - You interrupt her, seeing that she was about to cry again.

She looks at you in surprise, laughing slightly.

- What are you saying? You live here.

- And? - You shrug your shoulders. - I can sell the house. Buy a van, live on the road. Take you to all the places you don't know. - You joke, making her smile. - I told you, Maximoff. You won't be alone. I like you.

Wanda places the mug on the coffee table in the living room and presses her face against her palms for a moment, sighing. Then she looks at you.

- And when are we going? - she asks and you smile, feeling excited.

- Whenever you want.

- Now.

You laugh, placing your mug next to hers on the table.

- Your wish is my command, madam. - You joked before getting up.

You stroked Mr. Whiskers from inside the shipping box while you were in the front seat of Wanda's car. She looked at you tenderly before she started the car, and you drove out of Westview.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #marvel imagines #wanda vision #wandaxreader

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hellothere-generalangsty · 3 years

Note

Hello doll, it's Minty! 💚 I saw your requests are open and I simply had to dance into your inbox! I would adore a Bad Batch Western AU fix with Crosshair and the sentence prompt "If that wound doesn't kill you, then I will". I love you friend! 💚💛💚💛💚

Crosshair – Dust and Blood (TBB Western AU)

Summary: Every story need a beginning, a middle, and an end. This is the beginning, and it starts with a man who calls himself Crosshair.

From the sentence prompts:

22. “If that wound doesn’t kill you, then I will.”

Word Count: ≈1535 words

CW/ TW: Angst? Idk if you could say it’s angsty - it’s not happy that’s for sure but angsty? Idk anyway; western stuff, wounds/ injuries, (death) threats, pain, scars, blood

Tags: @mintywriteswritings @chaoticvampirejedi @loth-wolffe @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s (thank you again for the help!) @dusk-dawn-and-stars @tacticalsparkles @imalovernotahater @canwestayinthisdream @wakeupjackthisisntfair @namesmox @badbatch-simp24 @lightning-wolffe @maddieskywalker @for-the-love-of-clones @m-e-w-117 @99squad @equalityforcats

@ladykatakuri @firelordillyria @andiebell2023

Notes: This is so exciting for me you can’t even imagine; thank you Minty for the request! I’m really happy to dive a bit more into the stories of the boys, and Crosshair’s arc is one I’m really happy to explore ^^

Also feel free to check Little One – Highly Suspect (you’ll find out a lot of their songs help me dive into that AU)

Dust.

This is how everything started, and how everything would end. He knew it the moment he jumped down his horse, a grimace of pain twisting his face as the dry coat of blood on his ribs ripped open once again. He tried to take a deep breath but stopped halfway, the pumping in his head becoming too strong to focus on anything else. He almost tripped on his feet, grabbing the beige mane of his companion to keep himself up; which made the horse neigh.

“Sorry, pal.” He barely muttered, unable to do more than loosen up his grip a bit.

Above him, an old sign falling into pieces, and a barely readable inscription on it; bleached by the constant exposure to the sun and the occasional rains.

Marauder Valley.

He walked through the entrance of the abandoned village – if one could call it a village – and wandered next to his horse, looking for shelter and a new shirt. His was tainted with red; dark and dried, smelling like iron and sweat. His wound wasn't bleeding too much anymore, but he could still feel a thin dash dripping against his skin when he was turning around or raising his arm.

It took him a few minutes to find the abandoned saloon, and the sight made him hum in a mixture of disgust and relief. A thick coat of dust was laying on the floor, and most of the bottles and tables were left to be; frozen in the middle of their usual occupations. A deck of cards was spread on one of them, and he came closer to take a better look.

Poker. And it was a good hand. Whoever played it knew what they were doing.

The wooden floor was lightly creaking under his feet as he walked around; and hadn’t it be for the few footsteps he was leaving behind, no one could have guessed he came here. He took a small hallway, leading to a few unsanitary rooms – barely big enough for a bed and a chair for most of them – and looked under the beds for a medical wallet or something he could use to patch himself up. His head was spinning a bit, but the clicking of a gun’s chamber and the cold metal tickling the back of his neck felt more important in the moment.

“If that wound doesn’t kill you, then I will.”

He slowly turned around, hands barely raised to show he intended no harm, and came face to face with a lady; probably in her mid-forties, small and chubby, and visibly determined to fulfil her promise.

“I need a doctor.”

“You won’t find any ‘round here.”

“Then a drink will do.” he shrugged, unimpressed.

“We’re going out and get you a drink then.”

She moved the cannon of her gun toward the main room, letting him open the way. He went in with the hope of getting some rest and medicine, and got back outside empty-handed and under the threat of an armed lady; bathed by the burning sunrays of a hot afternoon, in the middle of nowhere.

Nothing had changed during his little visit in the saloon but his state. He tripped on his feet, unable to focus on the stairs and the figure next to him, and fell on his knees next to his horse. The pain was getting worse; stinging and burning, the sensation of warm blood dripping from his open wound and straining his shirt even more; and the headache, the heat, the shivers-

“Alright, sit down.”

He dropped his weight on his behind, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Stay here. And don’t faint!” the woman warned as she walked away from him, disappearing behind the horse. His head felt too heavy, his veins pumping too hard to let him think straight. He let himself lay back against the dusty wooden floor, closing his eyes under the bright light burning above him.

He woke up when cold water splashed his face, making him jolt and grimace in pain.

“ Told you not to faint.”

“I didn’t.” he groaned, trying to sit again, the coat of blood ripping itself a bit as he did.

“Feel like y’can walk?” she looked down at him with a sort of irritated worry. He nodded, grabbing the guardrail to get up, slowly. “Good. Follow me.”

He stumbled a bit, trying to catch up with the woman. He thought he could handle it; he had gone through a lot to get here, and it couldn’t be worse than what he had left behind.

Or maybe it could be.

The loud thud of a body falling on the ground caught the woman’s attention, and as she turned around, a sigh escaped from between her lips.

“Great… Now I have to get the big guy.”

Waking up was painful, sudden. His ribs were on fire, his eye stinging – though the light was filtering through old curtains – and the remaining of his headache was still blurring his vision. He didn’t noticed the comfort of the mattress right away, neither the voices filling the room he was in.

“Ha, coming back to us. Told ya ‘t would work.” A deep voice commented in a smile.

“And that?” the woman’s voice asked, and he guessed she was pointing at his wounded ribs. He brushed the tips of his fingers against his own torso, realizing he was bare skin and wrapped in a bandage.

“Can’t do miracles. ‘Have to rest for a few days, go easy with manual tasks for a while.”

He let out a groan when he heard the recommendation, and tried to move his arms to push himself up and sit in the bed.

“I wouldn’t do that,” the voice advised in a laugh, “Unless ya want to open that wound ‘gain.”

He blinked a few times, and managed to see who was talking to him; a man, tall and visibly strong, dressed with dirty clothes and a squared shirt – probably a farmer. A scar was covering the side of his bald head and reached his left eye. The man was neither scary nor impressive, and seemed friendly enough.

He abandoned the idea of sitting, letting go of the light pressure he had put on his elbows and falling down against the mattress. His head gently buried itself in the pillow, and he let out a long, tired sigh.

“Who’re you?” he muttered in his breath, turning his head their way to look at them.

“’Name’s Cid,” the woman told him, “and he’s the big guy.”

“You know that’s not my name.” the man chuckled, and his voice filled the room with warmth and amusement as he looked at Cid.

“Don’t know your name, and couldn’t care less about it.” she shrugged.

“And you are?” the big guy asked, shifting his attention back to him.

He had expected the question, and he knew the simple answer would be to give his name. But he couldn’t stand the sound of it anymore, and his spite told him to go for that one instead. After all, it was “made for him”.

“Crosshair.”

“Well then, welcome to Marauder Valley Crosshair.” The man smiled at him.

He didn’t feel like returning the gesture, but nodded nonetheless, out of respect and gratitude for their help. He scanned the room, bringing a hand to his face; a light grimace twisting his mouth as he felt the skin stretching on the side of his body.

His fingers ran against his scar around his eye, trying to sooth the stinging pain. It was still recent, bright red, not quite blending in with his warm skintone.

“Well, ‘gotta leave now,” the big guy smiled, grabbing his hat in hand as he walked toward the door, “but if you need anything, I won’t be far.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cid pushed him out of the room, following his steps, “we know. You,” she pointed to Crosshair, “don’t play stupid, stay in bed.”

And on these words, she dragged the door behind her, slamming it before her heeled steps hit the apparent stairs outside the room. Crosshair stared at the door for a moment, contemplating once again getting up, but he was tired, and the bed was comfortable; and these people didn’t seem to want him any harm.

He didn’t seem to want any harm either, right, “Crosshair”?

He groaned faintly at the thought, and his hand dropped from his face to his chest, barely grabbing the thin blanket above him. He was far from him; from them, and now he just needed to sleep the pain away.

Sleep the pain away. Sleep.

Don’t let them get to you. Because they will get to you.

He will find you, you know he will.

They did this to you. They will do worse.

You know that, don’t you, Crosshair?

He let out a frustrated sigh at the thoughts, and slowly turned his head to look at the window. The sun was shining bright behind the curtains, and he could see the dust floating in the rays of light filtering through. It was peaceful.

For now he was safe, far away in a lost, abandoned town, in the middle of nowhere.

For now.

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #tbb western au #mesa writes #yousa request mesa #crosshair #western crosshair #i forgot the tags when I posted it lmao #minty 🤠#hope you'll enjoy it!#sw tbb #star wars the bad batch #sw #tbb crosshair

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detectivereyes · 3 years

Text

I Want to Hold You Like You’re Mine

Summary: TK gets lonely in the ER.

Notes: idk if anyone is going to really read this because everyone is kinda distracted with the new episode and the promo for next week but yeah. this idea wouldn’t leave my head so now you get to read it too.

title from “agnes” by glass animals

beta’d by @marjansmarwani

read on ao3

Watching the bustling waiting room, TK nervously twiddles his thumbs. He’s spent far too much time getting to know the emergency room at St. David’s that when he closes his eyes, he can picture the entire layout.

And yet, he somehow found himself back here again.

It wasn’t exactly his fault though. Granted, he could have been a little more careful going up the ladder on the truck. But the situation was getting urgent and he was so focused on getting to the top of the ladder that he didn’t even notice when his right foot got caught on one of the rungs and twisted his ankle in the wrong direction.

Which is how he ended up sitting in the waiting room yet again, his right ankle elevated on the chair across from him and the now melted ice pack resting on the swollen joint. He knows that he could just ask someone for a new one, but he’s been here long enough that they should be calling his name any moment now.

However as the minutes tick on, he gets more and more restless, and he wishes that there was someone here to talk to and take his mind off the persistent ache in his ankle. There had been some discussion about someone from his team staying with him but he had insisted that there was no real reason for the team to be two members down for something as minor as what’s probably only a sprained ankle. And of course, the 126 was called to another scene before it could be discussed further.

After Tommy dropped him off at the ER entrance, he thought he would be okay. However, on this abnormally busy day at the hospital, he only gets lonelier as he waits for his name to be called.

His loneliness getting the best of him, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and shoots a quick text to Carlos.

TK: are you busy?

He doesn’t even have shut the messages app before he sees the typing dots appear on his text thread.

Carlos: I’m on a call right now, but I can call you in a few minutes?

Of course. TK knew Carlos was working today, he should have known better than to bother him.

TK: nevermind, forgot you were on shift. it’s okay.

He shuts off the device, only for it to light up again with Carlos’ name in the call ID. TK frowns, hitting the red decline button. His boyfriend should be focusing on his job, not needing to worry about how accident prone TK is.

His phone lights up again, and he declines it again.

By the third time it lights up, TK sighs in resignation and presses the green accept button.

“Hey Carlos,” TK greets with his best cheery voice and fake smile.

“TK, you denied my call twice. You do not get to ‘hey Carlos’ me. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, I forgot you were working today,” TK answers quickly. “I can talk to you later”

“It’s clearly something. Just tell me TK,” Carlos says, pausing while he waits for TK to answer.

TK wonders if it’s worth it to explain the situation to his boyfriend. He knows that as soon as he tells him, that the other man will drop everything to come be by his side. And while the companionship would be welcome, he would feel guilty pulling Carlos away from his job.

Unfortunately, he waits too long to answer and Carlos speaks up again. “Wait, aren’t you on shift today too?”

“Well, yeah..”

“TK, where are you?” he firmly asks.

TK can tell he’s beginning to put the pieces together. The ambient noises of the waiting room are no doubt filtering through his phones speaker, not to mention the red flags it raises that TK is calling him while on shift to begin with.

“That’s not really relevant,” he says, trying to shift away from the topic.

“You’re at the hospital, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit, TK. Okay,” Carlos says, and TK can hear him mumble something in the background before coming back to the phone. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“That’s not really necessary,” TK tries to wave him off before Carlos cuts him off.

“Is anyone with you?”

“No,” he trails off.

“Then I’m coming.”

TK smiles to himself. He knows at this point there’s no talking Carlos out of it, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to seeing the other man. “Okay, I’m still in the waiting room.”

“See you soon.”

The call disconnects, and TK cycles through the apps on his phone while he waits for Carlos to arrive, periodically looking up at the sliding glass doors of the emergency room entrance.

Eventually, Carlos does make his appearance in the waiting room, still in uniform and face flushed as he scans the area before meeting TK’s eye.

TK gives him a little wave and small smile, greeting his boyfriend with a kiss when Carlos takes a seat next to him.

“Hey, what happened?” Carlos asks, trying to mask the concern in his voice but TK still picks up on it.

TK explains the situation, watching as Carlos’ eyebrows furrow in worry as he processes the story. When TK finishes, Carlos smirks a little before speaking up. “I thought you making the transition to being a paramedic was supposed to be less dangerous.”

“It’s not my fault they needed a medic up there, and I have more experience on the ladder than Tommy or Nancy.”

“Clearly,” Carlos stifles a laugh, gesturing to TK’s ankle while the other man gently swats him. Leaning down, Carlos removes the ice pack to further inspect the swollen joint. “TK, this ice pack isn’t very cold.”

“Yeah, I’ve been here a while,” he shrugs.

Carlos presses his lips together, before getting up, ice pack in hand, and making his way over to the reception desk. TK watches as the other man exchanges a few words with the nurse sitting at the desk. After their brief exchange, Carlos returns with a fresh ice pack which he places gently on TK’s ankle.

“The nurse says they should be calling you back next,” he says with a smile.

“Thank you,” TK says softly, returning the smile.

True to his word, just a few minutes later his name is called and Carlos is helping him transition into a wheelchair to be wheeled back to an exam room.

After being poked and prodded, and an x-ray just to confirm it’s nothing more major, the doctor verifies Tommy’s initial diagnosis that it’s just a bad sprain. He’s given a sturdy black brace, a pair of silver crutches, and strict instructions to take the next few weeks off work.

That last note causes a pout to settle on TK’s face as the doctor exits the exam room.

“Hey,” Carlos catches his attention, rest his hand on top of TK’s own. “It’ll be fine. Tommy will understand.”

“I’ve barely been on the job for a week, and I already have to call out. Not a great reflection.”

“Well she’s been working out your house for a few months, so I think she knows to expect that her newest paramedic is also a danger magnet,” Carlos chuckles.

“Yeah, I guess,” TK sighs.

Carlos gently runs his hand through TK’s hair, knowing that it calms the other man down. “You ready to get out of here?”

TK nods. “Can you just drop me off back at the station?”

“I thought I would just take you home. You should probably rest and ice your ankle a little more.”

“There’s ice at the station,” TK says with a mischievous grin, only to be met with Carlos’ unwavering expression. “I just would rather be around the team that sitting at home alone while you finish your shift.”

“TK, my shift ended 30 minutes ago.”

“Shit, Carlos,” he looks up meeting the other man's eye. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to get pulled away for this long. I hope you don’t get into trouble.” “It’s fine, I told my captain what was going on after you called and she let me go. I wasn’t planning on going back anyway.”

TK smiles, wondering how he got so lucky to have a boyfriend this caring that he really would drop everything to spend a few long hours in the emergency room with him.

“Now, why don’t we get out of here, yeah?”

He nods eagerly, letting Carlos help him off the bed and graciously accepting the crutches the other man hands to him. “Thank you,” he whispers to Carlos with a smile, before making their way out of the hospital.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #my fic #usermaximus #tuserpaige #userkimmy #userac #userajb #userbones #userjilly #idk i'm too lazy to bring up my list

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gangrenados · 3 years

Text

Color markers

Have you ever made a really self indulgent fic that it's almost embarrassing? Well here's mine, I just like to draw silly things in my skin idk it's artsy 🤷🏽‍♀️

Also I made the reader speak Spanish, why? Idk I just feel like it. Latina power papa, pura raza es lo que tu ves aqui

Fem!latina reader x Jason

PSA: Hispanic doesn't necessary mean latino, don't be a fool💖

Translation!

Ay mi amor = Oh my love

¿Seguro estas bien?= Are you sure you're okay?

Te quiero demasiado, es más, yo te amo mucho Jason Peter Todd. Yo no sé como, ¡pero dios mio lo que siento por ti es uf muchísimo! Mano yo no sé como explicartelo..." = I love you too much, in fact, I love you so much Jason Peter Todd. I don't know how, but my God what I feel for you is a lot! Dude I don't know how to explain it to you ... "

Te quiero doesn't have an English translation so yeah, weird.

Jason's head bounced lightly against the wooden headboard, making him grimace at the suddenly movement. The lack sleep was really getting into him or maybe it was the tranquility of the day of, he wasn't quite sure.

He shifted lightly, the pressure of your body making him take a sharp breath through his teeth." Jay, I'm sorry! Do you want something for the pain?" Your voice made him feel better somehow. God, he was so embarrassingly whipped.

"I'm fine, babe" he groaned as he fully sat up. Jason noticed the color marks resting all across the empty space your legs created by being apart. He frowned, realizing the colorful collage that adorned his right arms.

It didn't take much for you to notice his confusion, "You told me it was okay," you tilt your head to side as you grabbed his arms gently. Your eyes quickly narrowed over those colorful lines that rounded across his pale skin and mushed over the curvy areas.

" I don't know about you, but maybe I should become a tattoo artist one day."

Your heartbeat raced at the feeling of Jason's chuckles." Yeah, sure. I bet you would make a great job, princess" He joked, taking a more clear look over those doddles that went from little weird things like a cheese with a cowboy hat and Betty Bop cherries to more serious ones like eyes who dared to look somewhat realistic- as much as the skin allowed- and faces.

However, the one draw that caught all of his attention was a smiley face set a little bit lower on his wrist. The doddle was blushing with a shy smile plastered on it and a lot of pink and red hearts surrounding it. Underneath it 'te amo' was wrote in bright pink letters.

Jason didn't expect you to do that, in fact it has caught him of guard. Since the beginning of your relationship he always had the bad habit to question if you really liked or if you just decided to date him out of pity.

Jason didn't took your love for granted and that's why he felt that he had to work to earn it. That was the only way he could feel like he was worth your time and attention.

It might sound silly, but little acts like this always got the best of him.

He took away his arm from you, looking closer to this little drawing made the air caught on his throat. You did love him, after all you wouldn't have put that there if it wasn't true...right?

"Oh hey!" You gasped at the sudden hug of Jason. He rested his head in the crook of your shoulder, trying his best to not break.

"Ay mi amor," you put your hands on top of his, rubbing tiny circles in his bruises knuckles with your thumbs." ¿Seguro estas bien? I can make you some tea if want, just tell me..."

Those words just made his heart ache more." Why are you so nice to me?" That question passed slipped from his mouth without passing through his mind filter. Making him bite his cheek hard at the realization of his mistake.

Jason was really careful with what he says, especially when it comes to emotional stuff like this. He didn't wanted to give power to others to break his heart.

But now he has messed up and he just can't pretend he didn't said that stupid question.

You can't deny that that simple question made a quick flash of pain cross your body. It was hard to hear him said that, even after all of your attempts to show him how much he meant to you, how much you loved him.

You didn't get mad at him though, even if it hurts you knew the reason behind this was a series of unfortunate events that have left your dear boyfriend emotionally wounded.

Carefully you turned to him, breaking out of his grip and dropping some markers in the process. Jason's beautiful blue eyes looked at you with nothing but embarrassment, he didn't wanted you to look at him like this.

"Look, you're my boyfriend and I'll care about you no matter what, okay?" You said slowly, gracing his hands with lingering touches. Jason didn't move or tried to speak, he was as stiff as a stone.

"You're someone really, really important to me and I-" the words caught in your throat and it frustrated you that your mind had become blank due to this emotional moment." Te quiero demasiado, es más, yo te amo mucho Jason Peter Todd. Yo no sé como, ¡pero Dios mío lo que siento por ti es uf muchísimo! Mano yo no sé como explicartelo..."

You took a deep breath and continued."You're someone so strong and kind, I just can't explain this better and I'm sorry, but-"

Your speech was cut of by Jason's lips meeting yours, he wanted nothing more than kiss you. He needed it like air, as cheesy as it might sound.

Both of his hands were set at the back of your neck just to deepen the kiss and make you stay in place as long as you could.

Jason's mind rushed with a million thoughts before shutting down completely. This was okay, even when he felt like his heart would explode at any moment, nothing wrong could happen when he had you between his arms.

He hold onto those hopeful words to dear life in that brief moments of eager happiness between you two. Deep down he knew the angst and insecurity would take down his sudden found of calmness, but Jason wanted to push back those negative thoughts as much as he could.

Your fingers ran through his dark locks tenderly once the kiss was over; there was a little grin adorning your beautiful lips that made Jason confidence bust.

"I don't deserve a girlfriend like you"

" Maybe..." You shrugged off, wanting to play prideful just for a while." Nah baby, you sure do. I'm pretty good, right?"

"Yeah, you sure are." Jason said." I think you're getting a little bit cocky, don't you?"

"I guess I learn that from you." You pecked his lips before hopping off of the bed." I'm making you some tea, okay? I feel like that might help you..."

Tag list @bathroom-sand @aterriblelangblr @simpery @strangerthings14 @jyarumu0619 @kellieriddle96 @adarksoul098 @rosethegothamhistorynerd @duckmylife18 @panic-attheplace @malfoys-demigod @darkraven1983 @magicisabluewish @hamdehlesmis @lucy-roo @lovelyartemisa @missmaskedwriter @c0-77 @ginevraxrogers @imagines-fluff-yandere-smut @shadygoateeprincess @nervousfandom @ghost-bitch @silverw19 @thegirlwholovesbooksblog @hecatemacbeth7 @unknowntoanyone @mistalli @screechingghostbananafarm @waroncheer @lady-stirling @ghostly-ginger @greeknerd007 @la-femme-lupita @jasonsballsack @violettessuniverse @wondergal23 @dreamxcollide @thirstiestpotato @magicalbeanie @dreamingforthosewholost

#jason todd x latina!reader #latina!reader #Hispanic!reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd headcanon #jason todd

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whirlybirdwhat · 3 years

Note

Kid*Killer because my BOIS are immaculate as always. Also maybe a little... idk, ginseng? Maybe?

WOOOOOO OKAY, FINALLY FINISHED THIS! i assumed u met ginsan instead of ginseng, so thats what i went with.

so! two prompts. here's the kiddxkiller one, and i'll post another one with ginsan + @ u !!!

warning for udon prison arc spoilers

Killer wakes up with his mask off and his faced bared to the in-coming sunlight. There is a moment of panic, a moment of his eyes staring straight up, a moment of him thinking no helmet and danger, before he registers where he is.

The red wooden ceiling of the Victoria Punk’s captain’s cabin stares down at him, red drapes pulled across the rafters to provide a homier, closer, more comforting feel against the brass bolts and gildings that line every wall. The sunlight is from the porthole beside his bed – besides their bed – and his mask is not on his face because Kidd is Kidd and there is no one in the world he trusts more than his partner.

He turns softly in the blankets, feeling the white silk flutter over his shoulders as the ship sways from side to side. He should have gotten up hours ago, the sun rarely ever waking him but –

Now, he feels content to rest, to lay in the comfort of some place where his mask can come off because Kidd would never laugh at him.

“Fucking damnit!”

That isn’t to say that Killer would not laugh at him however. He looks up, over his shoulder, letting golden hair fall down to see where Kidd stands over his workbench, arm off and makeup unapplied.

(He’s just as bared as Killer is without his mask. Just as open. Just as vulnerable. It makes something warm inside Killer’s chest that he is the man to whom Kidd, Supernova and Captain of the bloodiest pirates on the sea, will show this too.)

“Kidd?” he calls out softly, and Kidd turns immediately, gold eyes flashing not in rage but in surprise.

“Ah – you’re up!”

“Kind of hard not to be with the racket you have going on.” Killer muses, allowing the blankets to pool around his waist as he’s gropes around for his shirt. “What are you working on?”

And here, Kidd blusters. It’s so odd – his captain, his partner is always loud and abrasive and stubborn. If he stumbles, only his crew survives to see it. Blood is trailing down his arms and onto his fingertips more often than not, and blood isn’t really a far-off answer when people ask what Kidd paints his nails with. Kidd isn’t the type to stammer, but the type to get what he wants.

Except for now, when he shifts in front of his workbench, bare faced and flushed, and blusters.

“Uh – I – Nothing! Just fingering out something with my arm –“

“Your arm?” Killer raises an eyebrow, an expression only Killer ever gets to see. “Your arm that you control through your devil fruit and is made of any scrap metal we can find?” Kidd has never hid a project from, except for –

Killer strides forward and peers around Kidd’s weight, even as Kidd’s one hand connects with his chest and pushes him away.

A small, barely perceptible gasp leaves his chest. “Oh.”

Oh.

On the workbench is Killer’s helmet, shining and glistening and freshly painted. The scratches are covered up, the holes re-sanded down, the entire thing waxed to perfection. Even the leather on the back has been shined and softened, the frayed straps adjusted.

There’s paint on the workbench. Shiner and wax bottled off to the side. When Killer tears his eyes away from the bench to land on Kidd, he can see the blue and white paint covering his nails, the way his shirt is greased, the way his eyes have that slightly off look they get when Kidd wakes up too early.

Oh.

“Kidd…” Killer whispers out softly as he steps forward to the bench, reaching for his helmet.

Kidd raises his hand to the back of his head, streaking his hair in paint. “I know you hadn’t had a lot of time to do up keep on it, and we probably won’t have time in the future now that we’re going after Kaido so I… thought I do this for you.” He shakes his head then, snatching the helmet off the table and shoving into Killer’s outstretched hands. “Asshole. Just. Try it on?”

Kidd is not looking at Killer. Oddly, it makes his heart warm.

He hasn’t put on his lipstick for the day, the lipstick that only Kidd ever gets to see, but he puts on the helmet anyway. It slides over his face, the familiar view unobstructed now that he has haki. His breath puffs out, and Kidd’s hand is there, adjusting the helmet till it settles more comfortably against Killer’s face.

Killer turns to the small mirror in their room, the perks of rooming with the captain. His breath catches slightly. He looks –

Looks –

He looks fierce. His hair spills over his back, his chest is warm and bare in the early morning light, and his pants flutter loose about his waist. Yet, despite the softness of how everything should be, the helmet curves and strikes out, a shield for Killer against the world. He smirks, though no one can see it, then smiles big and bright.

Kidd’s hand drifts up to Killer’s, barely a breath away, and it is Killer who closes the gap. He turns, hand connecting with Kidd’s painted one, and there is not even a moment before his helmeted head is tilted into Kidd’s.

Their foreheads touch, Kidd staring directly into Killer’s eyes, masked though they are, and Killer staring back.

“Thank you,” Killer murmurs, squeezing Kidd’s hand before he is pulling away. “I… Thank you,”

It reminds him of years ago, when they were young and scrappy without a ship to call their own, when Killer had hidden his face behind bangs, too afraid of judgement to part them. Until, of course, Kidd shoved a solid blue helmet into his hands, messily and unevenly painted, but with holes in all the right places and fabric from Kid’s own leather gloves cushioning the inside.

Killer had breathed out a thank you, then, words too weak for what this meant to him.

And – like before – Kidd responds in the same way.

“It’s nothing – you’re my partner, right? My first mate. You deserve this.”

And as Kidd turns away after squeezing Killer’s hand one last time, Killer finds that soft mornings like this, with hidden gifts and caring captains – they aren’t bad. Not bad at all.

He could use more of these too vulnerable, too sweet mornings.

(It’s morning, sunlight filtering in over Wano’s peaks, and Killer wakes not to silence but to laughter bubbling in the back of his throat unbidden. He bare and vulnerable, like he’s been for weeks, and it’s not fair it’s not because only Kidd was supposed to see this, not anyone else not –

He’s breathing fast and unsure and unsteady and the world is spinning and his palms are sweaty and there’s no familiar tightness around him only flowing fabric and bandages against his face and it’s so much, so much so much–

Something cool is shoved into his hands. Something metal, something blue and white and –

The world is moving to fast, but his hands move faster, shoving his helmet over his face. The world quiets. The sunlight dims. His breath slows. He’s…

“Okay?”

That’s Kidd. Kidd is here.

Killer gives a nod, not trusting himself to speak as he leans into Kidd’s side. The world is quiet and sweet and vulnerable, just them in this empty wasteland expanse, and it’s okay. He runs his hands over his helmet, scuffed and scratched but clearly cleaned the best Kidd could manage. He’s okay. He’s laughing, and Kidd will laugh with him, but he’s okay.

He’s okay.

Kidd leans further into Killer, a familiar weight as his voice mutters familiar words, only for Killer’s ears. “You’re my partner, right? My first mate. You didn’t deserve this.”

No one did. Not one person in this damn country.

Kidd slips his hand into Killer’s. “But thank you, Kil’.” His hair brushes up against the side of Killer’s helmet, his goggles dinging quiet against the metal. “Thank you.”

And maybe Killer didn’t deserve to laugh or be laughed at, but he’d give anything for his captain who would do anything for him so –

This quiet, vulnerable morning is okay after all.)

#one piece #op #whirlywhat #kidd #eustass kidd #killer #massacre soldier killer #whirlywrites #whirlyanswers #soft #light wano spoilers

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