#ugh it’s just so scattered i can’t figure anything out

[rainylana]

“Go to bed, y/n.”

Eddie Munson x reader

summary: you can’t sleep. you also want a puppy, so you pester eddie all night long.

warnings: just some language and tired, grumpy eddie lmao. strictly fluff and playful teasing:) it’s short, but definitely sweet<33

taglist!

requests are open!

@ariesl0ves3ddiemuns0n @eddiemunnson @eddiemania @imdoingbetternow @cosmic-lavender @flowers-and-tsukki @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @fionnthebandersnacc @supercalifragilisticprincess @ahzysauce @underthebatcape @catherinnn @ohlovelyhollow @kneelforloki @actuallybarb @avobabe87 @noturmom15 @lexthemess21 @your-starless-eyes-remain @imangy @ches-86 @justaproudslytherpuff @genuine-possum @heeyitsg @softyutae @averysblog @antigoneidk @mic429 @no0neknowsm3 @bellasfavoritesweatpants @fentyreligion @delilahtaylorsverson @rovckwells @phantomxoxo @kaqua @getbillzoned @tessiemessie

Twenty seven. There were twenty seven cracks in the ceiling above you. Some were dark stained from rain damage, some were from mold. It didn’t come as a shock to you, though, considering the neighborhood you lived in. You were just incredibly bored, and were trying everything in your power to fall asleep. It was almost two o’clock in the morning, and Eddie had long since passed out.

You figured it was your own fault, as you had downed almost three pepsis during diner, a piss poor excuse of dinner. Eddie had promised he would run to the store, which as usual, he forgot, so tv diners it was. You groaned softly as you glanced over to your lover, sighing as the sight of him. He looked so peaceful. So…so…asleep. You wished you looked like that.

Was it fair to wake him just because you couldn’t sleep? Probably not, but damn it, you’d been awake for hours, and you were going to die of boredom. “Eddie?” You called softly, face turned in his direction. You were only met with sound snores.

“Eddieeeee?” You sang, reaching out to poke his shoulder, too which he grunted roughly into his pillow. You scoffed, slapping him playfully. “Christ, Edward, wake up!”

“What?” He said sharply, glaring at you over his shoulder.

You stifled a laugh as you leaned up on your elbow. “I can’t sleep. Will you entertain me?”

He groaned dramatically and very loudly as he faceplanted back into his pillow, ignoring you.

“Hey!” You gasped. “Come on, I can’t sleep!”

“That’s your own fault.” His voice was muffled. “I told you not to drink so much caffeine.”

He did. He warned you after your second one that you’d be up bouncing off the walls. In fact, he lovingly told you not to keep him up all night. Looks like you didn’t give a shit about that. Eddie, despite how passionate, happy and a charismatic he was as a human being, he was terribly grumpy when he woke up. Especially when he wasn’t ready. If he didn’t get his full eight hours, god forbid anyone say anything to him until he fully woke up. You thought it was hilarious, though, given he was just too damn cute when he was grouchy.

“Please!” You threw yourself on his back, resting your chin on his shoulder. His hair was softly and frizzy underneath your cheek, his torso bare and shirt scattered off into the dark abyss of the floor. “Tell me a story or something! You’re good at that.”

More pleaful groans. “Eddie!”

“Ugh- why must I pay for your crimes?” He whined, pushing you off his back as he twisted around to lay on his. You giggled happily as he pulled you into his side, cuddling up against him. You pulled your black comforter up around your shoulders, his face etched into a look of annoyance.

“What do you wanna talk about?” You beamed.

“I don’t want to talk about anything, y/n.” He groveled. “I want to sleep.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Too bad. You’re staying up with me.”

“I want to break up then. Pack your things and go.” He said tiredly, his eyes remaining closed. You snickered, knowing he was teasing.

“Can I tell you what I thought of today?” You drummed your fingers against his chest.

“No, but you’re going to tell me anyways, so might as well.”

“I was thinking we could get a dog!” You said happily, looking up to see his eyes snap open.

“Fuck no.” His tired eyes met yours, stomach dropping at the idea of a furry creature roughhousing your home. “Don’t even think about.”

“Why not!” You pouted, sitting up with him. “It would be cute! A little puppy running around!”

“Uh, no,” He raised his brows, pushing his bedhead away from his face. “It would not be cute. It would be a mess. We’re not getting a dog.” He said in a no nonsense voice, a very tired voice, and sunk back down in the mattress without you.

You remained seated upright, lips pulled into a frown as you crossed your arms. “You don’t love me.” You pouted, obviously just messing with him.

“Shut up.” He shuffled, trying to get comfortable. “Go to bed, y/n.”

“No, I can’t.” You shook your head. “How can I sleep knowing my boyfriend doesn’t love me anymore!”

“Jesus h christ,” He dragged out, knowing you weren’t ever going to shut the hell up. He made a mental note to never buy pepsi again. “When did I say that?”

“Just now.” You huffed, nose turned upward. “You said I couldn’t get a dog.”

“So that means I don’t love you?”

“Yes.”

He moaned into the sheets, lifting himself up only to pull you back down with him, causing you to squeal. “I’m putting up with this, aren’t I? Doesn’t that prove my love to you?”

He was on his stomach still, his arm around your chest as he held you close. “I guess.” You shrugged. “But I still want a puppy, Eddie. Why don’t you want one?”

“Because dogs are messy, y/n.” His nose pressed against your shoulder, his tone light, yet dripping in exhaustion. You were a terrible girlfriend, you figured.

“But I can clean after it!” You persuaded happily. “I promise it won’t get into any of your stuff.”

“Mhm, you say that now.”

You turned your face toward him and huffed dramatically, causing him to open his eyes. You glared at him, and he just looked at you with amusement. “If I tell you a story will you drop this whole dog business?”

You thought for a moment. Yeah, he was probably right. A dog would be messy.

“Yeah, okay.” You smiled, causing him to roll his eyes. He turned on his side to pull you in close, and beamed happily as you cuddled against him.

He sighed deeply. “Once upon a time,”

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things season four #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson smut

[steddieas-shegoes]

for the request :D

i need more eleven and steve with a sibling bond and hopper as steve's adoptive dad pls! steve deserves to have a loving family and steve hopper just hits different yk? plus i love steve and eleven being protective over each other 🤧

tysm !!

UGH I LOVE IT!!!! This is from Hopper's point of view, hope that is okay. It just felt like it needed to be? This was so good to explore. I definitely want to explore Steve and El being overprotective siblings more in the future, even if it's just in the background. I hope you love this! - Mickala ❤️

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

Hopper was at the door. Again.

This was the third party he busted at the Harrington residence in as many weeks.

Steve just didn’t seem to get the picture that he was watching over him.

See, Jim Hopper was far from an idiot.

He knew that Steve was left alone a lot since the too-young age of 11.

He knew that Steve was popular at school.

He knew that rich, popular kids with empty houses usually threw parties.

And it was kind of like Steve wanted him to break these up at this point.

He wasn’t changing the time, the location, the invitees, anything.

All it took was Hopper driving by the first time, and he was in on it all.

Steve was expected to throw these parties, Hopper was expected to break them up. So it goes.

And if that’s what Steve needed from him to keep up his appearances as a “cool kid”, then he could do that.

“Steve.”

“Chief! You wanna come in?”

Steve was slurring his words, his eyes unable to focus on anything.

He was drunk.

He hadn’t been the last two times Hopper broke up the parties. In fact, he’d been in complete control and sober.

Something was wrong.

Steve throwing a party he shouldn’t be was one thing. Steve being wasted at said party was another entirely.

“Uh no. I’d like everyone to leave though.”

“I can’t! This is my house,” Steve giggled.

God, he didn’t get paid enough for this.

“Alright. I’m gonna get everyone out of here. You go shut off the music and drink some water.”

“But then I have to think about stuff.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

He was well aware of how neglected Steve was for most of his life. His parents threw money at nannies that barely did their job, and then threw money at Steve like that was the equivalent of love.

The only person who showed him love was Nancy.

“Where’s Nancy?”

“Oh she broke up with me. Said I was bullshit and we were bullshit and then she left with Jonathan because he’s not bullshit.”

That was. A lot to unpack. He didn’t have time though.

“Steve. I need you to focus okay? I need you to shut the music off so I can tell everyone to go. Then you need to go to your kitchen and drink at least a full glass of water. Make sense?”

“Sure thing, Chief!”

He stumbled away, possibly in the wrong direction, but Hopper didn’t really care so long as he got this shut down.

As he walked through the living room and dining area, he told kids they had five minutes to be gone or he was calling their parents.

They scattered quickly; They knew he wasn’t messing around.

He did the same with the kids on the stairs, the kids in the hall, and the kids in the kitchen.

Finally, the music shut off and more kids came running downstairs. When they spotted Hopper, they kept scampering right out the front door.

He figured the rest were probably in bedrooms or hiding in the backyard, and he needed to check on Steve again first.

Steve was standing at the back door, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.

“Steve?”

“Just need a minute.”

“Okay, kid.”

Hopper took the chance to open the back door and yell to everyone that if they weren’t off the property in two minutes, he was arresting them all for trespassing.

It wouldn’t hold up, not with how many of these kids had parents with money for good lawyers, but it scared them.

He walked around the house, checking each room to ensure it was empty.

By the time he got back to Steve, he was passed out on the couch.

Hopper made sure he was on his side, blanket covering him, and a glass of water on the coffee table in front of him.

As he did the bare minimum to make sure Steve stayed alive, he had to wonder when the last time someone actually took care of Steve was.

————-

Steve started coming around to pick up and drop off El.

He was the designated soccer mom apparently, always bringing the kids where they needed to go: the arcade, the mall, the movies, the park.

He seemed to do it every day, no complaints.

El loved Steve.

She came home with a skip in her step, a smile on her face.

If he asked her how everyone was, her first response was always “Steve’s great.”

He’d be worried about it being a crush if she wasn’t stupidly in love with Mike. He’d almost prefer Steve.

But El just latched onto Steve in a different way. Like he was a protective older brother who made stupid jokes to make her laugh, but also argued with her over the radio.

Hopper was still worried about Steve. He graduated, but he was starting a summer job soon. A job that would leave him unavailable most days.

Hopper wasn’t a fan of this, and if he were rich, he probably would have offered Steve money to just be the kids’ chauffeur all day every day.

Within a week of his new job, El was barely leaving the house.

Hopper offered to drive her places before his shifts and she refused.

She didn’t even want to visit Steve at work.

Hopper didn’t mind paying him a visit, though.

“Hey, Hop. Everything okay?” Steve greeted.

“Just fine. You?”

“Any day in this uniform is another day I lose dignity, so.”

Hopper hid a smile.

The kid was funny, even if he didn’t mean to be.

“Got a favor to ask. El’s been pretty bummed about you starting this job and not spending much time with her and the others. Think you could take them somewhere your next day off? I could give you gas money.”

“Oh! Yeah. I don’t need gas money, though. The fair’s in town in two weeks, so I figured I’d take them all.”

“Great! Uh,” he cleared his throat, worried he seemed too excited. “I’ll tell El.”

“Awesome.”

But if Hopper knew what the fair had in store for all of them, he would have made them all stay home. He would’ve stayed home.

—————

After Vecna, Hopper had a lot of clean up to do.

He knew he left a mess, but he had no idea how much that mess exploded while he was gone.

El would barely leave his side. She sometimes sat at Max’s bedside in the hospital, but only if Steve sat with her. Then, she was right back home sticking close to his side.

He was grateful for Steve, truly.

He would show up every other day at the same time, give El a long hug, tease her about something stupid that made her crack a smile, and then bribe her to leave so Hopper could have some time to himself.

You’d think spending so long away would make him want to always be surrounded by the ones he loved, but not quite.

When Steve brought her back, she seemed lighter. Not relaxed, but like she’d been able to experience being a teenager. Just regular things.

Steve told him he brought her to get ice cream sometimes, sometimes they’d just drive around singing to songs on the radio, sometimes they’d walk around the quarry trail and try to find butterflies and birds.

He didn’t care what they did.

He knew she was safe with Steve.

—————-

When Eddie Munson’s name was cleared, they all had a party at Steve’s house.

A party that happened during daylight hours and was mostly children and their parents.

Quite a turn of events for Steve Harrington.

But most importantly, he let El help plan the whole thing.

She needed a distraction since Max was still not awake, and the only person who knew what would help was Steve.

They planned board games, and food, and they cleaned the pool together in case anyone wanted to swim.

“Steve. You are being very silly,” El said with a frown as Steve put a party hat on his own head.

“It’s a party! We’re supposed to be silly,” Steve replied, leaning over to place a party hat on her head.

Hopper watched fondly as El smiled.

“Purple is my favorite color.”

“I know. That’s why I picked it.”

Steve was a good kid. He was a good adopted brother to El.

And Hopper could admit now that he was beyond just seeing Steve as a kid he watched out for the best he could.

Steve was more like a son to him than he probably was to his actual parents, more like a brother to El than even Will or Jonathan were.

He watched as Steve pulled El into a hug and started swaying back and forth, dancing.

El was laughing. Steve was laughing. Light and carefree were words seldom used to describe either of them, but when they were together, Steve and El were like the children they never really got to be.

“Steve, can I talk to you?”

Hopper wasn’t really big on emotions. He felt them, just like everyone did, but he didn’t talk about them.

But Steve needed to hear this, he needed to know that someone loved him and believed he was good.

El smiled and went outside to see if Robin and Nancy needed any help with anything there.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just…” Hopper pulled Steve into a hug.

It was awkward, maybe a little forced at first, but the moment Steve sank into it, Hopper pulled him in tighter.

“I love you, kid. You know that, right? I’ve been takin’ care of you, watchin’ out for you the best I can for years. You don’t have to be the strong one all the time, okay?”

Steve let out a sob against his chest and Hopper felt the telltale burn in his throat that he was not far behind.

“You and El are my kids, you got that? I’m always gonna protect you both. El and I love ya so much.”

“Love you both,” Steve gasped out.

Hopper didn’t let go. He knew Steve needed this. He kind of needed it too.

But El walked in, frown on her face.

“Steve? Are you okay?”

Steve sniffled and tried to wipe his tears away without her noticing that he was crying, which just wasn’t going to work. She was too perceptive.

“I’m fine, El.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No! I’m really fine.”

El glanced at Hopper, his eyes red, but his face trying to remain strong and passive, like Steve had just started crying on him, not that he’d been the one to initiate the hug.

She looked back at Steve, who was starting to pull away from Hopper’s arms.

She quickly ran to them, Hopper’s arms pulling away to wrap around her now as she wrapped her own arms around Steve.

“Steve is our family, too?”

“Yeah, kid. He is.”

“Like my brother?”

“If you want me to be,” Steve said as he turned slightly in their arms.

“Of course. I love you like family.”

“I love you too, El.”

Hopper cleared his throat and pulled away.

“Alright, alright. Party’s starting soon. Guest of honor should be here any minute unless he got himself into trouble.”

“Do not be mean about Eddie. He is a very nice person to me and to Steve.”

Steve was blushing, looking down at the floor.

Uh oh.

Hopper knew that look.

“We’ll talk about that later, Harrington.”

“Yes, sir.”

El giggled and ran out the back door, dragging Steve with her.

Hopper sighed.

What did he get himself into?

#steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #el hopper #jim hopper #request #anon request #ficlet #hurt/comfort #protective hopper

[blasphemecel]

Judar — Butterfly, Paralyzed

PAIRING: Judar/Reader | Judal/Reader WORD COUNT: 7.6k TYPE: Angst, Fluff WARNING(S): Implied Head Injury, TBI Memory Loss, Ableism from background characters

I.

You stretch and reach and curl your fingers around one peach, like picking fruit is something you read about in a book. That's how you do everything, though, nowadays. The tree dwarfs your figure, scattered shadows littering your skin, that same confused smile on your face, and the sun dips behind you, painting everything orange and red and green.

Judar isn't sure what he feels when he watches you like this — just a twinge of something. He doesn't have to anymore, he supposes, because you're not... you don't interest him, or so he says.

He emerges then. He could levitate around you, if he so wishes, because maybe you would scream and make him laugh, but he approaches you slowly. On foot. Bare toes scratching against the grass. You don't react to him either, because you're always so dazed.

"You're such a dimwit," Judar says in place of a greeting.

"Oh."

He sighs dramatically, though there's no need. It's not like you asked him to do anything, but he spins his wand around anyway, and before you know it, all the peaches fall off their branches and surround you. The one you'd been reaching for hits you in the face, and you rub at the spot with a smile.

"Oh! They fell!" You clap once, twice, eyes darting around with wonder.

"'Course they did," he says. "When I order the Rukh to do something, it happens. It's magic. Idiot."

"Oooh! You did it." Your eyes sparkle like you're impressed. Like it's the first time.

His hands find his hips and he preens at the praise, not because it matters, but because a compliment is a compliment. "Pretty great, aren't I?" A nod. Then he comes closer, hand moving around your shoulder, cheek resting against yours. "What're you doing out here, anyway?"

You frown, gaze trailing down to your shoes. "I feel like there was a reason, but I don't remember."

"'Course you don't," Judar reiterates, separating himself from you, and then gestures grandiosely around. You notice all the peaches which fell are floating and gathering towards his carpet, coaxing a gasp out of you. "So since you're obviously so helpless, and I'm so generous, just ask me next time if you're so pathetically hungry, m'kay?"

"I'm sorry, Mister. You know I just forget sometimes."

Judar narrows his eyes at you with distaste. Pinching the flesh of your cheek between his fingers, he pulls at it, making you tear up a little. "Ugh," he groans. "How many times do I have to tell you? It's Judar, not Mister. I'm an important guy, y'know? Not some hag!"

"I know, Mister."

"Judar."

"Judar," you repeat.

That makes him grin, but you're not sure why, though his glee is one of conceit.

"But isn't taking all the peaches bad?" you ask. "What if someone, what if, you know, what if they want to eat peaches too?"

Judar shrugs, irked. "Who gives a shit? It's not the only peach tree in the world!"

i.

"Oi!" You slapped the boy's grubby little fingers away from your peaches. "You can't eat those if you don't pay."

That didn't seem to stop him. Instead, he graced you with a manic grin and snatched three more of them at once, juggling them without effort. "Who cares what you say, idiot? If I want them, I'm gonna take them."

"Oh, what? You think just because you're 'The High Priest,'" you said, putting air quotes around his title and pronouncing it in a snooty tone, "you can do anything you want? Give me a break."

"I can kill you where you stand," Judar said plainly, though he noted it didn't phase you. Instead, you rolled your eyes and jumped over the wooden stand as if to chase him away. However, you failed to intimidate him, just like he couldn't scare you off.

They weren't empty words though, and you knew it as well as he did. Judar took delight in raising hell — killing, using his gift to kill and cause misery and destruction. But sometimes... Sometimes that wasn't enough. It was too easy when those who weren't special were fragile and easy to break, and using spells to get rid of them wasn't enough to sate his itch for violence, even if he was bursting with excess power. And because of that (it would've been so... so... boring!), even though he could've struck you down and ran away with all the fruit you were selling, he chose not to.

"Hmph. You people from the Kou Empire think you can take over all these countries and boss everyone around," you snapped, not bothering to hide your hatred towards this recent development.

What did you know about him, then? Nothing. Nothing at all; not enough to see the way every servant hurried to satisfy him because leaving Judar bored or unhappy would bring nothing but calamity and not enough to know what you were dealing with. You were both kids, but you weren't equal, and surely you were the one who was more naïve.

It had to be a physical altercation, then. He tackled you and you bit his arm and he scratched at your skin and you poked his eye and he kicked you, then spat in your face until you punched him in the nose. Then he recoiled away from you, holding his bleeding, bruised nose, and you reclaimed what he had stolen and ducked behind the imaginary safety of your vendor, triumphant.

Judar considered taking away your life, but he reappraised. When his conviction to take revenge waned, he returned to the palace wordlessly.

II.

You always sway from side to side when you walk now, unable to even keep a straight line, — not for long, anyway — like your feet are unsure, but it doesn't stop you from trudging through the thick rabble near the bazaar day after day. Dancing like a clueless idiot that has never heard of social cues, hands in the air and all, and remaining oblivious to the judgemental stares all the civilians would give you. There's a mix of disgust and curiosity in the way they observe you.

And they don't just look, they observe, like you're a thing, there for their entertainment.

Someone tries to reach for you, grab you and restrain you. It's not the first time because you're vulnerable and out of your wits. And it's not the first time Judar pushes a middle-aged man to the ground and sneers at him like he's some kind of wart between his toes, either.

"Hey, dummy." Judar picks his ear while calling out to you, but then he extends his hand to pat you on the shoulder just in case you don't recognize his voice. It's for naught, though, since you halt your step and turn around to face him. "Are you so incompetent you can't pay attention to your surroundings? Jeez, I'm great and all, but I'm not always gonna be here to bail you out!"

"I'm sorry, Mister, but I don't know what you're talking about."

He glares at you, for your imprudence maybe, but all he resolves to do is flicking your forehead. "It's Judar," he reminds through gritted teeth, like he always does, but his patience is running thin. That's what you call everyone now. It's always Mister this, Miss that, but he isn't just anyone. "You never notice, 'cause you're a dimwit."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. It's annoying."

Your lips part to spell it out again, your favorite phrase, but you reevaluate what Judar said, and choose to stay silent with a giggle.

You two resume your walking, but this time, Judar is by your side, discouraging everyone in the immediate vicinity from bothering you.

"I was wondering," you start with a frown, genuinely upset if not heartbroken, "why does, like, I mean, no one else ever comes around anymore?"

"Huh? You mean those stupid servants?" he asks, laughing at you because truly, it amuses him you'd be upset about something so insignificant. Then, to make it worse, he teases you, pressing his hand to his chest now that he spotted the chance to be dramatic. "Am I not enough for you?"

They don't come around because you don't need monitoring anymore, or so they tell him. You can talk, you can stand, you can eat if you remember to, and you can shower if you please, which is apparently enough to deem you independent. Not that he cares if they see you or not. When you're all alone and available like that, it just means more fun for him when he comes to bother you.

He thinks they assume you'll run off one day and get lost like it's inevitable, and even more, they hope Judar won't bother looking for you when you do. So, they could die for all that matters to him.

After contemplating his question for a bit, you give him a close-eyed smile. "I, uh, I know you're just, you're cruel and immature. But you're my favorite. Out of everyone I met. I just... I'm not sure why."

Judar stretches like a cat at your admission, before he throws his hands up, much like you had been when you were running around town a few minutes ago. He looks you in the eyes and asks, "What do you mean, you're not sure why? 'Course I'm your favorite. I'm the best, specialest, most powerful Magi!"

Despite his bravado, you can't help but think you sense a little sadness coming from him. However, you figure it's just your imagination because surely someone as powerful as him is above such a meagre emotion.

ii.

I can't believe a stupid peach farmer beat me in a tussle!

Obviously if he had gone all out, he would have won, but that was besides the point. Not only that, but the realization wasn't enough to soothe his anger after his encounter with you. He should have been strong enough to beat you, even without magic. Without lifting a finger, even.

But somewhere buried under his wrath was intrigue, which led him to that moment.

You were confused when you saw a dozen soldiers surrounding your beat-down house, and Judar couldn't help but wonder why a kid like you would live alone, making a living by selling peaches. It seemed... strange. The situation clicked into place for you when you noticed that damned tween from hell standing between the knights. Judar had the gall to glare at you like he hadn't been the one who tried to steal from you.

"What do you want, Magi?" You spoke his title like it was poison, but that didn't matter. Truly, you were afraid. Sweat trickled down your brow. You hadn't expected the little tyrant to be petty enough to seek you out just because you landed a punch on him, let alone with reinforcements. For God's sake, you weren't a terrorist! It was so overkill.

"You should come with me." He said it so casually, you would've thought he was telling you about the weather. "And live in the palace."

"W-Why would you want that?!" you asked, panicked. Did he want to put you in a torture chamber or whatever it is royals do in their spare time?

"Because you interest me."

You blinked at him. There was no way he was that simple. You realized, however, that you didn't have a choice. His previous words rang in your head: "If I want them, I'm gonna take them."

And just like that, you surrendered.

III.

"Pitiful place you've got here, [Y/n]." Judar snickers at you, entering the claustrophobic space. It's messy and small, with trash and clutter surrounding him every which way. It doesn't fit the palace at all. Perhaps for a single person it suffices, but now that the two of you are standing here, it seems to swallow him whole.

"Why do you think, why do you say that?" You take to sitting on the ground then, rather than on the unmade bed or even the surprisingly intact chair.

"It's so tight in here," he complains, kicking away a few of your belongings without a care before plopping down next to you.

You hug your knees to your chest, closing in on yourself, forehead pressed against your arm. "I like it here like this. Big rooms, they're scary. Things always disappear there."

After clicking his tongue at your differing opinion, Judar turns his attention towards the front wall. He's not sure how he didn't notice it before. Pointing ahead, he asks, "What are these ugly scribbles?"

"I tried to draw," you tell him.

"Oh. Hmm. You should try harder, then."

Not bothering to retort to his usual insults, you crawl closer to the corner and shuffle around until you find whatever it is you were looking for. Judar watches you with the mildest of curiosity until he notices you were just fumbling for your paints. After dipping your finger in black, you desecrate the wall with some more of those pointless lines and blotches and half-dried marks.

"Are you dumb?" Judar asks, frowning, before letting out an empty sneer at your expense. "You're supposed to draw with a brush."

"I know."

"I know you know. I just said that for fun."

You stop, and he sticks out his tongue at you. Disregarding his antics — which you always do, and secretly, Judar wishes you wouldn't — is easy when you can just nudge one brush in his direction. You don't tell him you don't use them because you always drop them, just like you don't tell him you don't understand why he keeps hanging around you. "Why don't you try?" you suggest airily, expecting rejection.

He considers it, before his lips curl, and he dunks the tip in black. Before you can even question him and his artistic integrity, you come face-to-face with a big, cartoonish dick, taking up almost your entire wall.

"There," he presents. Gestures towards it as if it's a masterpiece you should marvel at and you allow yourself a laugh at his immaturity.

"Mister, you're so... so... sooo. Unbelievable."

"Well, you better damn believe," he answers cockily.

You sit back. He picks at his nails, waiting for something snappy to come to mind, but then he figures he should leave. Figures that it's getting boring. Before he can, though, you mumble, "I remember," and then your sentence hangs in the air.

As he's standing, his entire body tenses in anticipation of what you're about to say. Skin burning at the possibility that maybe- "Remember what?"

"Oh. Uh. I think, um," your eyes dart around the room (startled and questioning and unsure if it's even worth saying), "I remember I was good at it. At drawing."

Judar tenses his jaw and clenches his knuckles and taps his foot against the floor like he's waiting for something, like it's urgent. Maybe he could make you eat them, your words, and if he does, maybe you'll remember what he's looking for. Though as he contemplates it, something inside him softens, and his shoulders let loose.

"You know what?"

"Hm?"

"You were," he concedes. "You were good at it."

iii.

It was possible Judar — Magi, The High Priest, as outsiders often called him — was that simple. You had lived in the palace for a few years by that point, but not as a servant, or an assistant, or even a knight.

Your role was simple and so you got tucked away in a small, negligent room, if only to be rid of him at night. You were merely Judar's sparring partner. The two of you had expanded your fighting abilities, and soon after your first few sessions, you understood he felt a need to be on edge.

It didn't have to be you; you realized. Could've been anyone he had picked a fight with that day because he was just so alone, and even then, you would've used the adjective lonely with caution. To him, alone meant bored, not forlorn.

You were putting the finishing touches to your painting — painstaking detail you could only control the look of with the smallest brush you had on hand — when Judar burst into your room. You put your materials aside and scowled at him. "What do you want?"

"Whatcha got here?" he asked, interested in your canvas. He came closer and glanced at it, then at the view visible from your window, and quickly realized you were doing some kind of landscape study. "A painting? I didn't know a dumb brute like you would enjoy something like this."

You felt flustered at him seeing what you were up to at all, since you made an attempt at keeping it a secret. "Shut up, asswipe. I need something to do in my free time and you're not gonna ruin this."

"When have I ever ruined anything?" His scrutiny unnerved you, otherwise you would have listed out everything he ever ruined in chronological order. Hell, he even prided himself on relishing in destruction. You could see his red eyes studying every detail, and for a second he smiled, fooling you into thinking you might receive a compliment for once.

Instead, his grin turned into a scoff fast enough. "What a useless hobby. We should go fight one out. I'm gonna beat your ass!"

You pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Ha!" Then you took him by the shoulders and pushed him back. "You're obviously just jealous 'cause there's finally something I'm better at than you."

Judar waved you off, seeming smug. "Uh, hello? Magician of Creation here. If I cared about something as dumb as drawing, I'd easily outdo you, dimwit." After a bit of contemplation, he added, "Your drawing's nothing special, anyway!"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah!"

He ran out into the hallways, wild laughter and all, and predictably, you chased after him, screaming obscenities along the way.

IV.

The palace seems more extravagant than usual today. You stare at the ceiling and the bustling hallways with intrigue and parted lips. You feel today is something important — well, obviously, as some kind of celebration is going on — and you think you should know what it is, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

Quickly, you realize you forgot what you even went out for. So instead, you tentatively address one servant rushing to adjust some decorations. "Er," you start. "I'm sorry, um, I'm sorry, but what's going on today? What's with the commotion?"

"Oh, it's The High Priest's birthday," she answers with a sigh, as if exasperated by pleasing him and meeting his demands, which wouldn't surprise you. "You know how he is, or... Maybe you don't."

At her slight jab, you frown. "I know. He's dramatic as hell," you reaffirm, then walk away with crossed arms, feeling somewhat superior for holding this obvious knowledge.

In your pointless wandering, you realize the funny Mister would probably expect a present since that's the kind of person he is. You panic and bolt in a random direction, but it doesn't take you long to trip over your own feet.

"Well, well, well," a familiar voice calls out as if hovering above you. You rub your eyes and gaze up, and then you see Judar levitating. And wiggling his dusty toes. You don't bother hiding your grimace of disgust. "What do we have here?"

Suddenly, you remember your prior dilemma and start panicking with widened eyes. "Oh, happy birthday, Judar! I'm so sorry, I, er, I forgot- I don't have a present! For you."

He doesn't seem happy with you, gaping at you like a fish. You shiver in anticipation for some form of punishment until Judar simply leans his head into his palm and shifts in the air with an aura of distanced amusement. Much like a cat observing you with narrowed eyes. "Come again?"

(Or is it a front?)

"I'm sorry? I'm so sorry, I forgot, I didn't buy a- I didn't get you anything for your birthday?"

"That's not what I wanted to hear," he says.

"I don't get it. Making me, er, making me say it isn't gonna... This isn't gonna... The gift won't come, even if I repeat myself."

Judar throws his hands up and rolls his eyes, ever the drama queen. "God, [Y/n], you're so hopeless! You don't understand hints at all, so just forget about it. But anyway, I wanted to tell you... We're gonna have a feast for my birthday."

"A feast?"

"Yeah! All sorts of fruit! More than you can even imagine. And tons of them, too."

You hold out your fingers to count something, which makes Judar raise an eyebrow. When you're done, you quirk up your lips and you look so innocent. "Oh, you're an Aries. That makes so much sense."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks irately.

"Well, I've heard they're, like, stubborn and irritable and distant and arrogant and selfish."

He frowns, and punches you in the shoulder, albeit not with full force. You laugh and try to return the gesture, but he flies just out of reach and then down the corridor, forcing you to run after him until you fall over again.

You will never know that it won't matter if you bought him anything as long as you don't forget to call him by his name ever again. You will never know that's enough of a present for him as things stand.

iv.

Judar always enjoyed making a big deal out of his birthday celebrations. He could barely stand to withhold from annoying you for a few hours, let alone on such a special occasion. You hadn't seen him all day, though, and he hadn't bombarded the attendants with ridiculous requests either, which concerned you.

It was night by then, and you started searching around the palace for him. "Judar?" you said out loud, hoping not to wake anyone who had already gone to sleep. "Judar?" you tried again until you reached the most obvious hiding spot.

He hadn't locked the door, so entering his personal quarters wasn't a challenge by any means. Still, you hesitated even after you were practically inside, instead choosing to linger by the door and observe him for a second. You could tell he was upset, though he hadn't cried — he never did, not even by himself.

Darkness absorbed his room, and the only light source was a lit candle in the room's corner, illuminating his face.

He appeared pissed off to the point of overcompensation, though. You didn't ask him about what had happened and feigned ignorance. Despite how you eyed the fresh bruises and injured, irritated skin in a manner that wasn't at all discreet, you didn't comment on them.

Judar spoke first. "What do you want?"

"I made you a birthday cake, but you were gone all day." You knew he wouldn't want to talk about it, and if he did, he would've acted disingenuously. Filling the space of despair with anger, mending being broken by hurting someone else, helping no one. So instead you let him pretend he was above it, that he was too strong to even acknowledge whatever had happened with The Organization.

You let him have his ego like always. Just closed the door and fully stepped in.

He brightened up at the mention of something sweet, though he switched to self-satisfied. "Coming around, aren't you?"

"You're still a big prick, but if I'm gonna be here, we might as well get along, right?"

"I'm a delight," he said before taking an obnoxious sniff of the cake you prepared. "Peach flavor?"

"Yeah. I made it myself, you know?"

He bit it experimentally. "Not awful coming from a dimwit like you, but if someone else made it, it'd probably taste better," he noted slyly.

In retaliation, you grabbed a handful and threw it at him.

Of course, it didn't reach him. It just halted for a moment and entered his mouth, manipulated by his magic, though the piece of cake he tossed at you hit you head-on. Between hushed laughter and whispered insults, food crumbs sticking to your eyelashes, wrestling well until the morning, it would embarrass Judar to say that was the best birthday he ever had.

Harbinger of catastrophe he is, it shouldn't have mattered. Not as much as it did.

V.

"You should dance on the carpet," Judar suggests with a snide smile.

Startled, you jump up a little. "Oh... For how long were you watching?"

He jerks his shoulders, because why would he give you a straightforward answer when it's not nearly half as fun? "Long enough," he says, an expression of mocking pity on his face. "You never notice. Making me look like a desperate idiot."

"I don't think I should."

"Should?"

"Dance on the carpet," you clarify. "Are you, you're not trying to kill me, right?"

Manic laughter escapes him at that. "Trust me, if I wanted to kill you, you would know about it. Or maybe you wouldn't 'cause you'd be dead, but that's besides the point."

You look at him strangely, though he continues observing you with an impish grin. In wait. You consider his offer — he's been the only person to treat you normally these past months. At least by his definition of normal, anyway. Maybe indulging him wouldn't be that bad of a way to show your gratefulness? With that conclusion, you take a few cautious steps in his direction before you've joined him on the carpet.

Judar doesn't have enough common decency to warn you you're about to take flight. Your legs shake and you cling onto him immediately, staring at the horizon below, disappearing further and further at rapid speed.

"What are you so scared for, dummy? You're not gonna fall."

"It's 'cause- Well, you always say, you call me a klutz."

"You are, but do you really think I'd be so incompetent to let you splat on the ground?" He scoffs at the notion. "Please! You insult me. That's very much below my skill set."

You don't acknowledge his rambles, instead clutching at him tighter, going as far as to dig your nails in his skin for just a sense of security. The pain doesn't seem to phase him in the slightest. "Too high, Judar!"

"Oh whatever, you killjoy," he mumbles, and the carpet finally stops moving. You take a moment to peer around him. At first it's scary, but soon after you're squinting, and you realize you can make out the palace, and also the peach field. Maybe even the entire city.

With a chuckle, he separates himself from you. You hug yourself in anticipation of falling down and meeting your demise, already feeling the unstable tremble of your legs. Judar makes a vague gesture towards your surroundings and says, "I'm gonna show you it's totally safe."

He backs away from you with a smug expression, though before you can even properly react, he loses his footing and falls off the edge of the carpet, tumbling down. You freeze. For a few seconds, you're too scared to move and check. The mental image of what might have happened to him proving too frightening.

"Judar?" you call out. "Judar? Judar!"

Though before you can even fully step and try to catch sight of him, something restrains you from behind, hands pressing your stomach. Goosebumps rise over your skin when you feel something creeping near your earlobe. "Boo! You fell for it!"

Judar laughs at you, pointing his offensive index finger in your face and all.

"That wasn't funny." You try to shove him away from you, pressing your palm against his chest and pushing, but he doesn't budge at all. "Ugh! Get away from me."

The only reaction he gives your reprimand is wiping away a tear, the result of finding too much amusement in your concern for his wellbeing. And this is why he has no friends, you think.

"Actually, it was fucking hilarious."

After folding your arms over your chest, you purse your lips and turn away from him. "Hmph," you add for good measure, which only adds fuel to his laughing fest.

"You can't seriously be mad," he tells you with a shit-eating grin, fingers splaying across your shoulder. "Seems like you're too busy having a stick up your ass to be afraid of heights anymore, anyway."

Your eyes dart around while you process his words. Judar's right; his distraction more than sufficed.

"Huh," you mumble. "Guess- guess you're right."

v.

Sometimes you and Judar traded blows while he flew the carpet high above the territory of the Kou Empire. He said it was good training for him since he had to multi-task. You thought he just liked the thrill — the possibility that one of you would fall down.

To Judar, you knew, the activity was pointless, but he still indulged in it, anyway. For fun, for the chance to pretend he has an equal, for entertainment, or just because he could.

It had been during one of those spars when he kicked between your legs and caught you off-balance. You fell. You fell for so long, you had convinced yourself he finally got bored with you and resolved to get rid of you, but in a way, it was freeing. After having been used to living in cramped spaces: behind the wooden stand that held all your peaches, in the shabby shed you called your house, and in your tiny room at the palace, it was liberating to just close your eyes and stretch your legs and hands and not bump into anything.

Your peace shattered soon enough, though, because your body froze. You continued to levitate, and Judar appeared in your line of view soon after. Of course, he deliberately hovered above so he could leer down at you and waved his wand back and forth. It was a symbolic gesture; you figured. Look, I'm keeping you alive. Aren't I such a charitable Magi? Beloved by the Rukh of Solomon and all. Isn't that so funny? So amusing? That someone like you could fascinate someone like me for so long. Who would've thought?

You found Judar funny when he went on his self-serving tirades or when he proved he had the attention span of a toddler. But you also found he had just enough self-awareness to exaggerate that behavior around you, for you, to make you laugh or to provoke you into an annoyed grunt and spiteful retort, which was what was entertaining to him. So you took to imitating his snotty way of speaking in your head sometimes.

"You know what I've been thinking about?" Judar asked, though it was a rhetorical question. Surely he knew no one could guess what was going through his head half the time.

"What?" you snapped. You were pretending to be annoyed. That was the bit.

"You really are an idiot..." He trailed off, then found it fitting to throw in a bombshell at the end. "I think we should conquer a dungeon together."

You blinked owlishly at him, like he was mental, and Judar relished in your surprise.

"Isn't that for Kings, though? Or Princes, or royalty, or whatever?"

"I know, I know. You're not meant for it. At all! I would've known since I met you if you were, but even then, wouldn't it be so much fun?"

He wanted to conquer a dungeon to pass the time? That was just like him. You grinned at him then and agreed. "It would be. We should."

It was a big fuck you to everything, really. And those were the kinds of codes Judar liked to leave, and you were so much like him, with a penchant for 'eat a dick's and 'stick your head in the toilet's and even 'I'll stick your head down the toilet myself's. Usually directed at him, but still.

The two of you continued smiling at each other conspiratorially, though you hadn't done any proper planning yet, to put this aspiration into action.

So it was clear: you were a distraction, you were the itch to do the wrong thing (temptation, but the word was too heavy), you were a problem, you were light. Some weird light that veered him away from evil and towards innocent mischief. And worst of all, you were his friend.

(i.)

After the incident, naturally, he solved it by killing someone, then killing the other piece of shit.

Judar isn't much of a problem sleuth, really — something happens and he gets mad and he kills a guy and beats up another with those flashy spells of his, and that's it. Big deal. So he found the preparators, and he got rid of them.

The healers' magic was enough to close the wounds on your head and rid you of bleeding, but it did nothing to wake you. They warned him you might not be awake for a long time. He supposed, in a way that was both humorless and unreasonable, that you were always a bit high-maintenance, anyway.

Then started the pleading, buzzing in his ears unpleasantly. They told him it was not worth it, that when you came out of your coma, you would probably brain dead (if you were lucky, 'just brain damaged'), few words short of calling you worthless, like you were something to dispose of... A beloved childhood toy that broke and he had to let go of, and at any rate, High Priest, you get bored with others so easily-

So that was how he ended up with more blood on his hands in such a short period. Judar didn't have any remorse for it; the kind violence that they had inflicted onto you was not one that happened randomly.

You were his friend. His only friend, even. And anything that followed that antecedent — his, mine, me, me, me! — he took very, very seriously.

After that, Judar ended up alone with you in the infirmary for around an hour or so. First, he tried making demands like you gotta wake up! Who's gonna draw my portrait for my birthday now? and you know, you still need to go with me to that thing tomorrow. You can't get out of dancing with me. You're so irresponsible and You promised to spar with me every day and Oh, I bet you're gonna have a blast sleeping all day while I gotta go be excellent and miserable, so miserable, it'll be so boring and, finally, It's really not funny, [Y/n]!

Then there was silence.

When his erratic rambling didn't work, Judar settled for holding your hand, your lifeless, chilly hand, just memorizing the texture of it against his fingertips like he hadn't done before, until he heard people approaching the door.

(ii.)

Judar wasn't the caretaking type. Any act of altruism bordered on repulsing him. When you were catatonic, he didn't rush to help the maids walk you and move you around, and he obviously didn't assist when they had to bathe you or feed you because you couldn't by yourself. It was just stuff he ordered them to do, so he didn't feel any further obligation towards you.

Still, that didn't mean you never got to see him. Or, sometimes, he wondered if you even registered him there.

Often, Judar sat in the corner of whatever room you were in, like a sulky, pouty child. Your imitation of him would've been: I'm so chagrined, so inconvenienced. I can't believe — CANNOT — that my clown is feeling unwell and can't do monkey tricks for me, I just can't! I don't know why my life has to be so hard. Well, I'll go off now, to try to start a war. That'll make me feel better.

That wasn't what he was thinking. He'd just stare at you, really look you in your sterile eyes with your permanent idiot smile during the stage when you couldn't help but drool all over yourself. And when he did that, when he was staring, he would repeat to himself, That's your friend. That's what your best friend is like now. Your only friend, over and over.

To someone else, it would've sounded like a manic mantra, but it was just so he could get used to it. It was a big change.

One time, when the maids walked out of your room, Judar waited until he was confident he was all alone, and he burst out in tears after observing you for so long in hopes you'd get better. It was... premeditated crying. He had to hold it in, or so he told himself, until he couldn't.

Judar wasn't sad because you were boring him or because, as many people saw it, you were now lesser-than. He was just so fucking gutted someone would do that to you, and then after they did that to you — you, why you? Even when he knew why, he'd ask himself — others had the gall to insult you. If someone had asked him what he thought about it, Judar wouldn't be honest.

He never was honest when he was vulnerable, instead choosing to be facetious or murderous. Kind of depended on the week, that.

So he wailed for a while, like it'd help, and you stared back at him all doll-like, not understanding. Like you were taunting him, telling him, Big deal.

(iii.)

After two months of you being unresponsive, Judar took all your drawings to his room from yours, bit by bit. He wasn't there much, so the action seemed pointless. When questioned, his answers varied.

Sometimes he took a selfish approach. "I'm the High Priest," he enunciated snively, "I can take whatever I want around here. It's as good as mine, anyway." Though he realized that was a bit ridiculous, even for him.

Other times, he tried to appear casual, like what he was doing was normal. "I think they'd make nice decorations for my room." (He never hung them up, not a single one.)

And finally, Judar attempted to restore parts of his image. You didn't need them anymore, he'd say.

There was a clear image in his head: when, after you start walking around and stuff — because of course you will — you stumble upon one of them and you realize you drew it before all this. And maybe you don't have the skill anymore, you're not prepared to face it, maybe it makes you feel like shit and you cry so hard the entire palace hears you. If that happened to him, he'd have a mental breakdown.

Judar decided he'd show you when you expressed interest towards them.

Sometimes he worried amid all the floundering, some dumbass would step on one of them and ruin them. And he just couldn't have that.

(iv.)

After you first got out of your catatonic state, Judar stayed out of your way for a while. He knew you would find it humiliating if you ever realized he was there, studying you when they were teaching you to hold a spoon again, to chew, how long you should chew, really, among other uninteresting things.

When you first saw him, you waddled up to him yourself. You started fiddling around with the end of his braid. Before, maybe he would've smacked you away, but in that moment Judar could only fake flippancy. Like he wasn't excited or glad at all.

"Don't cry anymore," you said. Despite that, you did not remember a thing about him beyond that embarrassing instance.

VI.

The second time Judar goes to your room, the wall looks different. Your movements have more direction now. They're not as smudged and the lines don't wobble as much, though they still don't mean a thing. You even drew over his penis. How disrespectful.

You're not doing anything of importance. Judar is watching you apply more paint to the wall, and he wonders if you'll ever ask to see one of your old art pieces, but he gets an inkling you never will. That's when you say, "I remember."

You're so cruel. You're so cruel when you do this, sometimes Judar wonders if you're just fucking with him. Every time you say this, his most hated phrase, and then you follow up with something irrelevant that's got nothing to do with him at all, he grows a bit more resentful. Part of him wants to take you by the shoulders and shake, shake, shake you, then scream, Does the name Judar mean anything to you? Your best friend, you know, The High Priest? The Magi? The most important person in the whole damn palace. At least to you, anyway! But it doesn't really seem like it means anything anymore! Yell at you until you get it.

But he doesn't, anyway. Judar doesn't really want to do that. It's just a thought he entertains sometimes. If maybe he got rougher and more unpleasant towards you, like he used to be, maybe you'd remember. And you'd say, "Oh, you're that asshole I was friends with."

Regardless, knowing you won't tell him anything he's interested in, he humors you like he always does. "Remember what?"

He thinks you can't tell he's annoyed.

"Oh, er, nothing," you continue, but you're making fun of him. "It's just. Why you're my favorite? Why are you? It's really, really weird. I think I'm in love with you, from before. I just don't- don't know why."

By the lilt of your voice, Judar understands you don't say you 'don't know why' or that 'it's weird' in the way you used to. The time when you were perpetually confused and foggy. It's a way to rag on him. Oh, look at you. You think you're so great when all you do is call me names. My, I have no idea why I'd ever be dumb enough to have feelings for you. Isn't that what you always call me? Dumb?

Something like that.

You don't know if Judar has the capability for it, for love. But you did... do. You do. You're still in love with him, for whatever reason. And you don't have enough common sense to be wary of him knowing anymore.

It lingered. When he got too close to you in one of his pointless shows of overfamiliarity and you'd get feverish and nervous, or when he'd disguise his motives with mean words and too many masturbatory praises towards himself, but you remember now.

Judar smiles. Smiles so hard — at you mocking him in such a moment, and at you finally remembering the right thing for the first time. He pulls you by the shoulder as close to him as possible. You're not sure what it means.

Settling on just a purse of your lips, you say, "You ruined my drawing," watching the aftermath of the way your finger jerked against the wall when he touched you so suddenly.

(I.)

Judar had a tendency to lie to himself whenever he deemed it fit. The amount of people who started calling him sorry and stupid, so pathetic for still waiting for you was big enough to alarm him. Which meant not many people were saying it, but the few times it came up, he took it personally.

First, he waited for you to wake up, then he had to wait for you to learn how to go to the toilet again and other such necessary life skills, and then he even had to wait for you to learn his name. The servants often snickered quietly whenever you'd Mister at him. Him, Judar, The High Priest. God, he really was pitiful.

He knew you remembered his name after the first few times — because he always fussed about it so much. To you, Miss and Mister was forgetful, but when you aimed it at him, it was worse. You called him Mister because you knew he was someone important, and you paid him the respect close people didn't grace each other.

There was an instance when Judar sat down and considered all the things he had heard. That you were just a broken thing and rendered inconsequential now. You were so funny and you were so talented. It was such a shame. How woeful!

It was funeral talk, but you aren't dead.

And if you got destroyed — the job had been done — could he, being who he is fundamentally, still like you? Entity of unproportional power and importance like him, and boring little you who got ruined, so there was no fun for him. Like the chance of marring you was the only thing keeping him around for so long. Judar thought about it.

After he thought about it, he decided he still liked you very much (l*ve, ew!). You are you.

Maybe you wouldn't have recovered at all, maybe you would've never learned how to walk, maybe you would've never remembered how to speak again, maybe your face would've been stuck in a dopey smile and he'd have to tell the servants to wipe away your spit every other hour, maybe your short-term memory loss problem would've just kept getting worse.

Maybe you would never be able to hold a paintbrush again, maybe you'll continue going off your head and embarrassing yourself in public, maybe you'll always stutter and stumble over your words, maybe you'll always move your body like it doesn't belong to you, maybe your gaze won't ever be sharp the way it used to be, maybe you will never think fast enough to put him in his place ever again. Big deal.

You are you. And that is enough.

#judar x reader #judal x reader #magi x reader #judar imagine #magi imagines #judal imagine #one shot

[trashcan3001]

Of Purple and Being in Denial

A K-Project one-shot by me! (don't take it too seriously, I have no idea what I am doing)

Summary: 5 times Bandou and Doumyouji made purple and that one time they didn’t realise a king saw

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#1: The ‘purple incident’

It was supposed to be a simple mission. 

But then again, isn’t that what Kusanagi-san always tells them before everything goes to shit? Seriously, why does it always have to be him? Bandou can’t help but brood as he chases the now known strain, Susuki Haruto through the alleyways of Homra territory. 

No, seriously, why him?!

He rounds a corner ready to attack, only to slam straight into a moving wall…that is to say, another person. Another person wearing blue… and has a sword- aw shit, really?

"Get the hell out of my way!"

"Eh?!- no, this is Scepter 4 business, you need to leave!!!" The blue lackey's shrill voice cut through Bandou's ear drums like needles, ouch. God, why does it have to be him that runs into a Scepter 4 dumbass?

"You can tell your king to go fuck himself, this is Homra territory; you should know by now that you don't butt into another clan’s territory!" Bandou shoots back.

"Excuse me-"

A cough from the forgotten third person stopped the two clansmen from escalating their fight. Bandou flipped his head around to find the source of the voice, coming face to face with one Suzuki Haruto. 

He stood, hands glowing an almost black colour as a sadistic smirk graced his face. 

Uh oh.

Bandou takes a quick look at the blue clansmen with him, seeing that his expression is the same as his. They make eye contact briefly, nodding in what Bandou hopes is a truce to fight this strain together before looking back at their target.

The black glowing power pulses to greater heights in Haruto's palms, it surges. Bandou tackles the blue clad boy to the ground, narrowly dodging the attack. They roll together, standing at the ready, auras blazing to life in a blend of red and blue.

It's a stand still until Haruto hurls his power at them once more. Bandou blocks with his red flames as the blue clansmen beside him slashes his sword through the attack. For a moment, their auras connect, blending into a split second of purple. In that second Bandou feels the world come to a stop; what the fu-

“Bandou!”

“Doumyouji-kun!”

The calls of his comrades had Bandou tripping, reeling in shock and embarrassment. Luckily he’s not alone as the blue clansmen- Domyo- whatever the other blue bastards called him, tripped up as well, falling straight into him and bringing them both to the ground. 

“Oof”

“Ouch!”

Bando quickly rolled him off of him, standing up and dusting himself off; ugh, seriously?! He could just feel the laughter of the people around him, furthering his embarrassment at his visit to the dirty alleyway ground. 

Looking up, the scene around him revealed that the blues had arrested Suzuki Haruto who was, unfortunately, staring directly at him, a creepy smirk in place as though he knows something he isn’t supposed to. 

Did he see that whole ‘purple’ business? Does that even mean anything? Oh, whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore, the job is done. Fixing his sunglasses, hat and hood, Bandou stands tall and readies himself for the humiliation that his comrades would inadvertently give for his job not so gracefully completed.

With another hit to his pride, Bandou forgets all about that ‘purple’ incident as the knee jerking loud cackles of Chitose and the harsh back pats of Yata-san follow him all the way back to Homra. 

— — — — — — 

#2: The horse; yes, that one

Here Bandou finds himself again, chasing after a strain, or well, 2 strains now. 

With his comrades scattered and chasing from different directions, Bandou had the sneaking suspicion that his pride would be bruised both figuratively and physically by the end of the chase. Another corner rounded and his fate was sealed.

He found the blues with the 2 strains and some of his comrades attempting to get the prince guy to hand himself over. In the distance Bandou sees that same blue idiot from his last pride kicking moment. What was his name again? Dom, dam, Domo- Doumyouji! Yes, that one! The loud and annoying one that he somehow keeps crossing paths with.

Yeah, that's going to get old real soon. 

He found the prince strain and the horse trying to run with Anna in their grasp and he knew what he had to do. Running in front of their path, Bandou realised he wasn’t alone in his futile attempt. The Doumyouji guy was right there beside him and a sense of deja vu rolled over Bandou like a curse. 

Time had stopped again, for just a millisecond, as he and Doumyouji readied their powers, purple flickered into existence. Now, Bandou would have freaked out a bit more and recalled the first time this happened if it weren’t for the hoove that appeared to be getting closer by the second-

CRACK

Pain, oh man the pain. 

Bandou can feel his face throb from the direct kick given to him by Basashi. From the corner of his vision as he listens to Yata-san reassure him that he isn’t pathetic, Bandou sees ginger hair and assumes Doumyouji is in a similar state. Well, he guesses that not being alone in being the butmunch of his clan is better than nothing. 

He finds himself passed on to Shohei as the chase for that stupid asshole strain starts up again. Oh, and the one for the prince dude too. He is brought back to reality by a flashlight hitting his eyes like a laser. 

“Bandou, can you hear me?” Two Kamamoto’s asked. 

Let’s just say that with his concussion and a more obviously bruised ego, Bandou forgot all about that flicker of purple once again.

— — — — — — 

#3: That time the buttmunch duo were bested by a cat

You know how he said running into Doumyouji would get old real quick?

Well, it happened. Bandou was out and about trying to make his way back to Homra after patrol when he ran into the elusive moving wall (the person) once again. 

“Oi, what the hell are you doing in Homra territory, again?!” He points his index finger right into Doumyouji’s chest, forcing him to take a step back. 

“I was just leaving, why do you have blackout sunglasses on in the middle of the night?!” Well excuse him for having an aesthetic based on his paranoia!

He watches Doumyouji flail and as he was about to open his mouth to reprimand him again, a crash startled them both. Looking into eachothers eyes, Bandou found the same dread filling the blue clad boy in front of him.

“What was that?” Doumyouji whispered.

“How the hell am I supposed to know?” he whisper-yelled in answer. 

In hindsight, when this whole ordeal was over with, Bandou realised that looking for the danger first and then arguing about it would be the smarter thing to do in the future. For now though, he turned around like those idiots in horror movies waiting to die only to find a very plump cat. It froze as both he and Doumyouji continued to stare at it in disbelief.

“Is that a cat?” Bandou finds himself asking. 

“Yes, I hope.” Huh?

“You hope? What is that supposed to mean, what else could it be?” 

Another thing to add to the ‘To do better in the future list’ is to never assume anything is as it looks at first glance. Why? Well, you see, as they were talking the cat set out a vicious attack! It was a terrifying ordeal; who would have thought something so round could jump so high? 

In the midst of this brawl, both Doumyouji and Bandou unconsciously let out their respective auras. Somehow, they merged and a zap of purple is the only thing that allowed them to escape the horrifying creature. When they had gotten out of the alleyway together something changed. With one uncomfortably long staring contest, an agreement was met. 

‘We didn’t see a thing, and nothing happened’. Well, except for the cat of course, nothing could hide the dishevelled hair or the copious scratched all over their faces. 

Kusanagi-san was not impressed by his story to say the least. 

“How did you get so ruffed up by a cat?!” 

— — — — — — 

#4: The purple wielding strain (how convenient) 

It took three sleepless nights and being extra quiet for his comrades to ask him what was wrong.

The problem for Bandou was that he didn’t think he could tell them that he’s been thinking too hard about a blue clansman and their aura compatibility. Is it fate? Can he do it with others? Is it only them? Is it only him? Yeah, he really couldn’t risk telling his clansmen about this, at least, not yet. 

So here he is, slowly making his way home after falling asleep standing in the middle of Kusanagi-san and Totsuka-san’s lecture about taking care of yourself. Oh, and Shohei is here too. Well, not for long though as soon a strain led yakuza group would show themselves on Homra’s territory and it became all able hands on deck. 

Turns out, Bandou was not a part of the ‘able hands’ on deck. 

That didn’t stop him from cutting through the alleyways to get to the group before anyone else. It also didn’t stop his sleep deprived brain from noticing one panting Doumyouji of the blue clan running his way as well. It was just them and the yakuza group. He couldn’t remember much other than the leader emitting a surprisingly purple aura and then taking it as a challenge. 

Here he grabbed Doumyouji’s arm beside him and merged their aura’s to emit an even brighter purple aura. He didn’t notice the absolute shock on the blue clansman beside him, or the interest in the yakuza leader’s expression. To be fair though, he really didn’t notice anything at all. 

Next thing they both know, the yakuza strain group hybrid was incompasitated and knocked out all around them. Bandou to this day still doesn’t know how it happened and Doumyouji is really bad at making reports. His crayon drawings aren’t even legible! 

“Watch out!” 

Okay, so not everyone was knocked out, and the leader blasted them both with his purple flame. Lucky for both Bandou and Doumyouji though, since the strain had purple flames, the one around them wasn’t questioned at all! 

They collapsed, or at least, Bandou collapsed and brought Doumyouji down with him. With his sleep deprivation and mushy thoughts, it didn’t take more than 5 seconds for him to lose consciousness as the sounds of frantic voices filled his ears.

oops.

— — — — — — 

#5: Testing

He woke up to a massive headache and confusion.

Forcing his eyelids up and open revealed a surprisingly dim room, the window showing the sun setting into the night.

He wasn’t in Homra, that he knew. Where he was, however, remained a mystery until the door to the room he was in opened and revealed Doumyouji. He walked in, closing the door behind him and sat in the chair Bandou hadn’t noticed was beside his bed. 

“So… you’re in Scepter 4’s infirmary if you didn’t realise.” Huh, well that’s good to know. 

“Why am I here?” He asks instead. 

“Well, you passed out after being hit by the strain’s power and nothing anyone did could wake you up. We thought you got hurt somewhere or that the strain power did something so we took you in to keep watch.” 

“Oh, well I feel fine so can I leave?” 

Bandou sat up fully, throwing the blanket away from him and turned to stand up. Well, he would have stood up if an arm didn’t grab him and push him down onto the bed again.

“Oof-”

“Wait-”

They stare at each other for a moment, Bandou in indignation and Doumyouji in what looked like awkward fear. 

“What?” Bandou finally asked.

“Um, well, you remember the fight right?” 

“Yes, what about-” 

Purple, oh god they merged and created purple! They fought with the purple! It wasn’t a split second or flash of it, it was a whole take down of a yakuza group with the purple! Oh fuck-

“You just remembered our aura’s merging didn’t you!” Right, Doumyouji i still there.

Right, he needed to find a way to get out of this. He will need to gaslight, gate-keep and insult! There was no merging, why would he ever merge with a blue bastard? Besides, that’s ridiculous-

“Yes.” Shit.

“Can we try it again?” Wait, what?

“Huh?” 

“Can we try to merge our aura’s again?” 

“Why would you want to do that?” 

“Because, we controlled it like it was our own when fighting and I want to see if it’s dangerous or not!” He gave Doumyouji a look.

“Okay so maybe I think it’s cool! I think you do too!” No he doesn’t.

He thinks it’s scary. He thinks that although he wishes he wasn’t insignificant this was not the way for that to go. 

“If I test it out with you, will you let me go?” He finally asks.

“Yes!”

And so he grabbed his hand, both aura’s coming to life, only for nothing to happen. They tried three more times before giving up and concluding that it was all the strain’s fault. As he walked back to Homra with the name ‘Andy’ in his PDA, Bandou wondered if perhaps he was just dreaming of the purple. 

Maybe he was going crazy and in reality he was still just an insignificant, normal (for a clansman that is) dude. 

What he didn’t hear was life laughing at him in the distance.

— — — — — — 

+1: I’m Not crazy? Damn it!

Running into Andy really was getting old. 

Seriously, how are they both faster than their comrades at getting to strains wreaking havoc? They looked at each other with a new understanding that perhaps they aren’t as useless as their teammates always say they are. No, seriously, how are they always the first ones there? 

“Why is it that whenever there's a strain both of our clans are chasing we are always the only ones to catch up?” That’s a question they won’t ever get an answer to.

“I wish I knew man, I wish I knew.” 

Before long, the strain of the day took their attention, sharp blades swinging for their jugulars. Dodging and blocking, Bandou found himself on the opposite side of Andy, making a crude gesture to try and communicate his idea hoping it worked. 

It did.

He jumped onto the back of the strain, forcing him to turn around and try to throw him off. Andy burst forward in a blaze of blue and cut the strain down as Bandou hopped off at the last second. Now beside one another, Bandou nodded towards Andy, a silent thanks for a good job at following his plan. Not that he ever had any doubts of course, he’s Bando of Homra, only the smartest of-

The strain threw himself at them and Bandou didn’t know how, but he grabbed Andy’s sword hand and swung it down on the strain’s coming blades. It was a moment of purple, merging from red and blue. Aw shit, are you kidding me?! Is it real? He’s not nuts? Come on-

He and Andy make eye contact and nod in another agreement.

“This never happened”

“Yep”

“Nothing weird happened at all”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about”

They parted ways as their clans finally made it to the scene, not noticing the sharp glint of glasses on a king known for his sadistic curiosity. 

Sorry Bandou, life thinks, I didn’t realise the blue king would just sit back and watch. 

Whoops!

#k project #Saburota Bandou #Bando Saburouta #Doumyouji Andy #Andy Domyoji #yata misaki #k anime #homra #scepter 4 #whoops #here we go again #another fanfiction about side characters #fanfiction #5 plus 1 #5 + 1 fic

[portaltothevoid]

Foolin’ (7/20) // eddie munson x ofc

Summary: Kat and Robin arrive at the party. After a few drinks, Kat ends up getting into a fight, only to be taken out of it by the one person she was trying to find.

Warnings: blood, fighting, drinking, mention of harder drugs, smoking weed, smoking while driving, 

Word count: 2k

Tag list: @munchabunch @morphie316sims @madaboutmunson @riffcrusader @michele131

Robin swiftly got into Kat’s car, buckling her seatbelt. “Hey Kat!” She said enthusiastically.

“Hey Robin! Under the seat there’s a bunch of tapes, pick whatever you want.” Kat smiled. It had been a bit since she had been able to talk to Robin. She shuffled through tapes before saying “Ah-ha! Now this is music,” as she popped it into the tape deck. “Well, this first track isn’t my favorite, but this album is great.” Robin gushed as the first track of David Bowie’s Scary Monsters and Super Creeps album started.

“Yeah I definitely would have guessed you’d be a Bowie fan.” Kat said with a light laugh. 

“I was surprised to see it actually.”

“I just love music in general. I don’t let anything like how I dress or people I’m around dictate that, you know? Nonconformist and all that.” 

“Totally.”

“Hey never know, I bet I could make a Metallica fan outta you. Just gotta give it a try.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. I mean, there’s just so much going on in those songs. It kinda just makes my brain go funny?”

Kat laughed. “Alright, that's understandable.”

“Hey speaking of that, I see you’re sitting with Dustin’s club there. The one that’s led by that Eddie Munson guy. Thought you were the loner type.” 

“You know Dustin?” Kat asked curiously.

“Yeah he’s like best friends with Steve and this past summer, we worked at this place in the mall called Scoops. Dustin would come in all the time and I helped them crack this code and we just bonded, really. That was before the, uh, mall burned down and stuff. But, uh, anyway, w-what made you decide to sit with those guys?”

“Oh, no, no. They all sat around me at my table. I made no effort whatsoever to go sit with them. Let me just get that clear. Eddie is just…persistent. It was getting tiring trying to keep him away, so I thought it would be easier to humor him.” 

Robin nodded her head, but had a pensive look on her face. “Well, for what it’s worth, Dustin does speak highly of him. It’s kinda funny though, whenever he talks about him, Steve gets this slight twitch in his eye, like he’s jealous or something.”

“He’s just so annoying though! No matter how many times I say it, he just will not leave me alone. I’ve never seen anyone so hellbent on being friends with me.”

“Can’t say I blame him. I mean, I don’t know him, like, at all. Not to judge some books by their covers, but it does seem like you two would have a lot in common.”

“Ugh. The bright side is at least I know where to go for weed. I’m almost out. Not that I want to go to him. Just seems like…he’s the go-to guy for that.”

Robin snorted. “Yeah he’s the guy a lot of people go to. Might be the only guy, I don’t know. Don’t usually partake in that, but, yeah. He doesn’t have the best reputation, but like I said, Dustin really looks up to him, so, take that for what it’s worth.” Before Kat could say anything about Eddie, she pulled onto the street of the party. Figuring out where it was by all the cars scattered around the street.

“So I guess this is it?”

“Yep. And there’s Steve’s car over there, so he’s here. We can just mingle with his group.” Kat’s eyes scanned around the cars to try to find a rust colored van, but came up empty handed. She hoped getting a few drinks in her would ease her mind and let her relax for a night and simply have fun.

“Uh, is everyone from school here?” Kat asked, getting out of the car. Robin just shrugged. The music was blaring from inside the house. Kids strewn about on the front lawn, backyard, all in various groups, wherever they could congregate. Kat was starting to regret her decision to even come to this party. 

The girls pushed through people trying to find Steve, finally finding him playing beer pong with a few other people. “Hey! There they are! Reset the game!” Steve cheered as they got up to the table. After a few rounds of the game, Kat found herself loosening up and became more relaxed, allowing herself to enjoy being at this party. She soon found herself in need of something stronger than beer. 

Kat excused herself from Robin and Steve’s group. Eventually she found the kitchen with a multitude of bottles of alcohol littering the countertops. She grabbed a small solo cup and a bottle of whiskey, filling it about halfway. Just as she was about to head back to the beer pong table, out of the corner of her eye she swore she caught a glimpse of a Dio jean jacket rushing outside. Taking a sip of her drink she turned towards the back door and out into the yard.

The cool October air felt refreshing on her rosy cheeks. She scanned the area trying to find out where the person she wanted to see went. Rounding the corner of the house, she collided with someone, spilling almost all of her drink.

“God dammit,” she muttered. “I’m sorry! Lost in my own world,” she laughed, then squinted to see who she actually ran into. “Second thought, no I’m not. Fuck off, Jason.”

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going, you freak.”

“Oh no! My feelings! They’re just sooo hurt.” Kat put a hand across her forehead, mocking like she was going to faint. “Save it for someone who cares, asshole.” She looked into her cup before downing whatever was left of her drink before tossing it over her shoulder and moving around him. 

“Looks like your parents were right to ship you off here. You really like your parties, huh?” Kat froze in her tracks and slowly turned to face Jason. Rage rising inside of her.

“What did you just say to me?” 

“I know why you’re here. Your aunt is friends with my mom and, boy, does she like to talk about you. She feels sorry for you, you know. I mean, flunking out of your junior year because you couldn’t keep it in your pants and your nose out of the blow? It’s no wonder you’re hanging around that other freak, Munson. You two would make quite th–” Before Jason could utter another syllable, Kat balled her fist up, picturing him being frozen in place, and swung at his face making a direct impact with his nose. He was completely blindsided, losing his balance and falling to the ground. Fury enveloped Kat as she took advantage of Jason’s fall. She began hurling her fists into him, one after the other. She wasn’t sure if it was his blood on her hands, or her own. It wasn’t until she felt her arms get hooked behind her that she broke out of her trance. Jason rolled over and groaned.

“Alright that’s enough of playing the hero for one night.” Kat wasn’t sure what was happening, her legs kicking at the ground as she was dragged away from Jason, who still had yet to realize what had happened himself. She began thrashing at whoever was smart enough to drag her away.

“Let go of me! What the fuck!” She yelled.

“Keep it down! Do you want his friends to come after you right now?! Because they will. And you are not going to like it when you become their new target.” It was then that Kat recognized the voice that was whispering in her ear. “Where are your keys?”

“In…In my pocket.” Kat stammered as she fished them out, handing them over.

“Ok, good. Now, where is your car?”

“You can’t drive my car, you’ve been drinking.” Kat’s accusation was met with a laugh.

“Nowhere near as much as you, m’lady.” 

Kat huffed. “I don’t remember, it’s by some bushes? It’s…it’s by Steve’s!” Kat mumbled.

“Harrington’s?”

“Yeah? Duh.”

“How do you kn– Never mind. We have to get out of here, like now, man.”

“I like movies, hello, why else would I talk to Steve?” Kat was painfully aware of the hand around her waist, guiding her to the front yard and down the driveway. As they reached the road, Kat said dreamily, “Oh there she is! See? I found it!”

“Good job, Kat. Now get in so we can get the hell outta here.” He said sternly. Kat did as she was told, even buckling her seat belt. “Always wanted to be the getaway driver.” She heard a laugh next to her, but she was too busy staring at her bloodied hands as the tires of her mustang burned rubber down the street. It was then she erupted into a fit of laughter. “Okay, what’d I miss? What’s so funny?”

“I…beat up…Jason…Carver!” Kat said between bursts of laughter. “I beat up Jason Carver.” She was practically doubled over in her seat. When she finally calmed down, the reality of what had happened and what she had done started to set in. “Oh my god, Eddie, I beat up Jason Carver. Why the fuck did I beat him up? Oh god, this is really bad. This is bad isn’t it?” Kat said with panic rising in her voice.

“I don’t know yet. He was pretty drunk, not as drunk as you, but… He might make up a story that he fell or some shit.” Kat giggled to herself, amused again at the thought of the fight.

“I still say it’s a cause to celebrate!” She said triumphantly as she dug into her center console searching for her cigarette tin filled with joints. “God dammit, my car stash is gone. Well after this guy is gone. Where the hell is my lighter…?” She fumbled around looking for her lighter, while Eddie reached into his pocket, pulling out his and lighting it for her. “Why thank you, good sir.” She said as she lit the joint and inhaled deeply. Upon her exhale, she offered it to Eddie, which he took, rolling the window down a bit with it hanging onto the side of his mouth.

“You should crack your window a bit.”

“What, you don’t want to hotbox my car?” She laughed as she then rolled her window to match his, taking the joint from him as when she was done.

“I’m all for hotboxing, but not when I’m saving you from sudden ridicule.” 

“You’re no fun.” She pouted, blowing smoke in his face. For whatever reason that made her laugh. “Where are we going anyway?” 

“Back to my place, so you can sober up.”

“But what about your van? Isn’t it somewhere near the party?”

He shook his head. “I rode with Gareth. Why are we listening to Bowie?”

“Robin picked it. Hang on, let me pick something…more your speed…maybe. I don’t know, I want to listen to this.” Kat said as she shuffled her tapes around looking for the one she had in mind. She chose Breaking the Chains by Dokken. “So excited for their next album. It’s supposed to come out the day after my birthday next month on the nineteenth. They’re one of my favorite bands from back home. Super nice dudes.” Kat mused as she closed her eyes and swayed to the music, her high finally hitting her. Eddie glanced over at her and smiled to himself. He loved seeing her laid-back like this and with her guard down ever so slightly.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed. Kat looked down at her hands again. “Damn, my knuckles are gnarly,” she remarked. Eddie pulled into his spot next to his van.

“Alright well, let’s get you cleaned up then.” He cut the engine and got out of the car. Kat felt like she was moving in slow motion so Eddie trotted around her car to open the door for her. That made Kat roll her eyes. “Oh how chivalrous of you.”

“Always for you, m’lady.” He said as he put his hand on her lower back to guide her into his trailer. “Right this way, the fortress awaits,” he gestured gallantly as he ushered her inside.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x ofc #robin buckley #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munsion x oc #eddie munson angst #eddie munson slow burn

[newsiesarchive]

FF.Net Back Up: Shady’s Story, Part I by Shady

Originally Published Jun. 6, 2000

A runaway from Chicago finds her place among the newsies.

Rated: Fiction T - English - Words: 10,610 - Reviews: 12 - Favs: 2 - Published: Jun 6, 2000 - id: 31773

Shady's Story

PART I

I was dreaming. I dreamt I was an Arctic explorer of some sort, wandering around in a fur parka amongst a vast infinity of blinding white snow. Crunch, crunch, crunch went my boots. I walked forever, it seemed, until I'd found what I was looking for. The North Pole. It was just as the pictures portrayed it-a simple red and white striped pole standing up out of the snow. I hurried towards my goal, and reached out a mittened hand to touch it and then the earth trembled. I paused, so close to touching the Pole. The earth trembled again, and the ground opened. I stumbled and fell into an endless abyss of shining blue ice, and began falling, falling, falling

and then I woke up. I was still cold, very cold, but there wasn't any snow, or North Pole, or icy abyss in sight. Just straw. Straw and wood. Then I remembered. I remembered about the escape from home, about stowing away in an empty boxcar on a train headed for well, I wasn't particularly sure where the train was headed. I didn't really care much, just so long as it wasn't to Nebraska or Ohio or somewhere equally horrid-just so long as it was away from home. Or what I used to call home. I sneezed. The old straw scattered on the bottom of the boxcar was dusty and prickly. It felt that a million tiny needles were digging into my body, even through all the layers of clothes I had on. I stood up with a groan, stumbling around a bit as I adjusted my footing according to the movement of the train. I paced around a bit, trying to warm up, but nothing really seemed to help. It was freezing in there, and I hate being cold. Everyone always says that it's better to die in a blizzard, because you just go to sleep, but I don't think I'd mind dying of heat in the Sahara one bit well, okay, I would mind the dying part, but at least I'd be warm. I was hungry, too. I fished around in the pockets of my coat for something to eat. Actually, it was my brother's coat. Nearly all the clothes I had on were his. None of the girlish things that I'd had at home were suitable for travelling or anything. Besides, boys' clothes are so much more comfortable it's not fair. After a bit of searching through the coins and the other whatnot I'd stuffed into the voluminous pockets, my hand connected with something cold and hard. Of course. Mum's biscuits. I fished it the yellow lump of half-cooked cornmeal out and looked at it with distaste. Ugh. But it was something, and I was really too hungry to care, so I choked the thing down and tried to keep gagging to a minimum. I could actually feel the bread hitting the bottom of my stomach like a rock. Oh, well, at least it was food. I got my mind off of the awful biscuit by trying to figure out where the Hell I was. I was on a train, heading from Chicago to God knows where. I hadn't actually bothered to check into the destination, smart girl that I am. I suppose, however, when you're on the lam, beggars can't be choosers. Seeing as I wasn't too eager to pull open one of the big side doors and leap from the moving train or anything, I just decided to wait it out and roll with the punches. So I paced around, sang a rousing rendition of "99 Bottles of Beer On The Wall," paced, threw straw around, polished the coins in my pockets, paced, and, well, paced some more. Right when I was in the middle of the 42nd chorus of "I Am The Very Model Of A Modern Major General," the train's brakes screeched, and my little wooden prison shuddered to a halt. I rejoiced, but not for long-already I could hear men's rough voices as they traveled from boxcar to boxcar, unloading the train's cargo. It then hit me that if anyone from the railroad station found me, they probably wouldn't be entirely too happy about it, and God knows what would happen. I might be beaten or taken to jail or, worst of all, they might even take me back home. Homie don't play dat-I hadn't spent hour upon hour cooped up in this freezing cold boxcar to just be discovered and sent home again. I hastily burrowed back into the straw, praying that it would sufficiently cover me so I wouldn't be noticed. I heard footsteps come closer and closer, and then the two giant side doors were pulled open. I winced as light poured in, causing my dark-accustomed eyes to water. I trembled anxiously as I heard two men's voices, right outside the car. "Nothin' in here, Bill," came one voice. "Good. We're almost finis-hey, just a second- there's somethin' in that corner" My eyes widened as I heard the man heave himself up into the boxcar and begin to walk towards my hiding place. This was not good. When he was practically standing on top of me, I emerged out of the straw with a maniacal yell, dashed past him, and took a leap out of the boxcar. "A stowaway! Grab 'im!" yelled the man, after getting over the initial shock of my appearance. I hit the gravel running-it kinda hurt, but I was too intent on getting away to care. Fortunately, my element of surprise had bought me a few precious seconds, and so I had a bit of a lead on the two men. Looking for some route of escape as I ran through the trainyards, I finally spotted some red brick buildings ahead of me, so I ducked into the alley between them. I suppose the guys hadn't seen where I'd gone, or didn't care all that much about catching me. Either way, I'd couldn't hear or see them any more. Whew. I leaned back against the wall of the alley, breathing heavily as my adrenaline slowly went down. Next time, I'd just buy a ticket. Now that I'd gotten away from the train, I could devote my attentions to figuring out just where I'd been taken to. When I had sufficiently calmed myself down, I walked cautiously towards the opposite end of the alley, where I could see a patch of sidewalk and cobblestone street. When I emerged on the other side, it was like stepping into an anthill. There were people everywhere. The streets were crowded, and there wasn't an inch of space between all of the brick stores and houses and market stalls. The whole place just had a very fast-paced, busy feel to it, so I figured that my train had stopped in a major city. Which city, I had yet to find out. I started to walk down the sidewalk, weaving through the throngs of people. I stand at only about 5'2", so the crowds weren't helping me see where I was going very well. I craned my neck to look at all the signs and buildings, running into people and things in the process. I stopped near a street sign, and squinted up at it to see what it said. Broadway. Broadway? Broadway hmm hadn't that been the place my Aunt Kathie was always rambling about? Broadway was in in New York City?! But I couldn't be all the way in New York! But I was, apparently. Unless ever major city in America has a street named "Broadway," which I wasn't sure of. My suspicions were confirmed when I was roughly shoved aside by a fat man pushing a cart. "Get the hell outta my way, kid!" he intoned in very New York dialect. New York City. Wow. Well, now that the "where the Hell am I?" mystery had been solved, I turned to the next-the "so what am I supposed to do now" mystery. Mum had always said that NYC was a very rough place. A very rough and dirty place that no self-respecting person would ever actually want to go to. Well, Mum, here I am. So there. I ducked back into an alley to ponder my situation. First of all, I knew nothing about the city. So, technically, I was lost. Second, I didn't know anybody who did know about the city, so I was also alone. Third, I had the curse of being female. Apparently, this rendered me highly dependent and fodder for all manner of psychos. Not that I believed in that, but other people did, which was the dangerous part. Lost, alone, and female. Such a winning combination. Well, even more dangerous than being lost, alone, and female was looking lost, alone, and female. I was immediately thankful I'd had the sense to take my brother's clothes. Albeit baggy, they made me look quite like a boy, hiding all my recently acquired curves and such. Except my hair. Long, thick, and utterly unmanageable, it never really wanted to pick any particular color, and settled with an odd mixture of copper, blond, and varying shades of brown. At any rate, it went past my shoulder blades and looked very, uhm, un-boyish. Fortunately, I'd also swiped my brother's big floppy hat, so with great difficulty I twisted my hair up and stuffed it under that. I pulled the brim of the hat low over my forehead to cast a shadow over my face, squared my shoulders, and tried to adopt a "you touch, I kill" sort of demeanor. Perfect. I walked back out onto the street, thinking as I wandered aimlessly. I was really hungry by now, but above all, I needed a place to stay. Was there such a thing as a "Runaway Hotel"? I doubted it. At least I had money. Not much, but it was something. I came to what must have been Central Park, and sauntered up to a man vending hot dogs and bought one, then scurried over to a bench and began to wolf it down as if I hadn't eaten in a month. It was gone in under a minute, and I sat for a moment and marveled over how much brighter the world seems when your stomach is full. I stood up and began to wander some more. Dusk was already here, and autumn night was rapidly approaching. I tried desperately to find some place, any place where I could sleep, but found nothing. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that I really wasn't going to get anywhere on my own, and decided to actually ask someone. I scanned the throngs of people for a moment, and my eyes eventually settled on a tall, chestnut-haired lady who was purchasing eggs from one of the many stalls set up alongside the street. I walked casually over to her, and tried to lower my voice about an octave. "'Scuse me, ma'am you wouldn't happen to know of any place where a boy could stay the night, would you?" The lady looked me over with a set of bright green eyes. "Well, if you're lookin' for wages as well, you might try the Newsboys' Lodgin' House. Where're you from, laddie?" she inquired, seeming mildly suspicious. I dodged the question and inquired further, "Newsboys' Lodging House? Where can I find it?" "Ten blocks north," she muttered. "Where are you from?" she asked again, as if she couldn't fathom someone not knowing where the Newsboys' Lodging House was. "Chicago," I said, backing off. "Anyway thanks for your help." And with that, I fled. Ten blocks north ten blocks north which way was north? I inspected a nearby tree for moss or something similar. No luck. I thought about asking someone else, but I figured that if I did that, it would blow my whole "I'm really not lost and alone" cover, so I didn't. Instead, I just stood for a moment, stock still, and tried to feel a northwards pull, or something. Before I could feel any sort of inner homing device, a couple kids ran past, waving wooden swords. I wasn't expecting this, so they knocked me off balance, and I toppled into some roadside mud. Fortunately, only a few dozen people had seen this mishap, and only about half of them bothered to stop and laugh and point as I picked myself up. I was now lost, cold, alone, still pretty hungry, female, and completely splattered in mud. Damn. Nevertheless, I continued upon my quest for the elusive Newsboys' Lodging House, my only known hope for shelter. I picked the first direction I started in, and hoped it was north.

The next hour or so seemed almost like a race against the sun. Light was swiftly fading, by the minute it seemed. I walked and I walked and I walked, until it seemed my feet were about to fall right off at the joint. Eventually, my body just did a "so long, sucker," and gave out. It was pitch black by now, if you don't count the streetlights, and I simply collapsed upon the first doorstep I reached. It was composed of a flight of about five dull gray cement stairs and two iron railings, and wasn't precisely what I'd had in mind when I'd wanted a place to stay. I was too exhausted to care, though, weakly pillowing my head on my arms and drawing my knees up to my chest. The last thoughts I remember were small prayers- prayers that I wouldn't get kidnapped, or stabbed, or raped, or frozen to death. These worries were soon put to rest as I blacked out into near-unconsciousness, my only thoughts of sleep.

I was awakened quite rudely the next morning by a boot slamming into the small of my back, and a large form toppling head over heels over me with a loud yell. Whoever it was had successfully knocked me from my little step, and I did an equally painful and ungainly descent down the stairs, rolling over and over until I finally connected with the unforgiving street. Ouch. I groaned and decided to just lay there, too bruised to feel like standing. Abruptly, a voice interrupted my pain. "Mush! You klutz you fell down the stairs again? That's the third week in a row!" the voice, which was male and carried a heavy New York accent, didn't sound overly concerned- rather, it was laughing. A half-whimper came from my left. "It wasn't my fault this time! I swear! I tripped over over him!" came the voice of the tripped. It sounded accusing. "Who's that? I haven't seen 'im before" said the first voice. "Hey, kid, get up! You all right?" Reluctantly, I picked myself up off of the street, stood up, and turned to look at the owner of the voice I'd heard. It belonged to a tall boy, probably about sixteen or seventeen years old. He had a lightly tanned face, and was dressed like the newsboys I'd seen in the papers a few times. "Uhm h'lo," I croaked, then turned around to see whose boot had given me the bruise, which I was sure was gonna be permanent. A muscular boy with brown curly hair narrowed his equally brown eyes up at me. "Thanks a lot, kid. You nearly killed me." Unthinking, I responded, "You're welcome." I suppose I could have been a bit more gracious-I probably had almost killed him. To my surprise, the boy picked himself up, dusted off, and actually grinned at me. "No harm done, I s'pose," he said amiably. "Like Jack said, I do it all the time." I turned around to look at Jack again. He glanced me over, then said, "I don't remember seein' you before, kid. You new?" "Well, uhm, yeah," I replied intelligently, inwardly grateful that my hat had stayed in place and I still looked sufficiently boyish. "I was actually looking for the Newsboys' Lodging House. You know where that is?" Both of the guys looked at me, then at one another, and burst out laughing. "What's so funny?!" I asked indignantly. "You you're trying to find the Lodging House?" chortled Mush. "That's a riot! You've only been sleepin' on its steps all night long!" My eyes widened as they finally noticed the lettering above the door of the building. Lo and behold, they read: Manhattan Newsboys' Lodging House. I blushed furiously under the shadow of my hat. "Oh well then I guess I've found it." Jack grinned at me. "I guess you have." He stepped forward and offered his hand. "The name's Jack Kelly, but they actually call me Cowboy. The lunkhead that tripped over you on the stairs is Mush," he said, gesturing to the curly-haired boy. I shook his hand and grinned tentatively back. "Hi," I said, not wanting to give him my name. For me, anonymity meant safety. Jack gave me an odd glance, but didn't question me about it. Instead, he asked, "You signed in with Kloppman yet?" "Kloppman?" I echoed. "Kloppman. He runs the House, and if you're looking to stay here, you gotta check in with him. C'mon, I'll take you to him," the tall boy offered, and I followed him through the door. The interior of the House was a bit dark and chilly, but it was much warmer than outside, at any rate. Jack led me down a short hallway and into a sort of check-in room. A big, curved oak counter dominated the room, and behind it sat an elderly, bespectacled man who reminded me very much of a tortoise. "Hey, Kloppy, we got another boarder for you," Jack said, and I stepped forward, and Kloppman nodded at me with a sort of half-smile. "It's twenty cents a month for board. You are responsible for finding your own meals," the old man informed me. "If you don't have enough money with you right now, I'll just put it on credit." I dug the required amount of money out of my coat pockets and shoved the coppers across the counter to him. Kloppman picked up a quill, and poised it over his ledger. "Now name?" I bit my lip in hesitation. I didn't want to use my real name, despite the fact that Whitney was commonly used for boys. So I thought quickly, and decided it was safer to remain anonymous for the time being. "Do you really gotta know that?" I asked tentatively. Kloppman did a funny little half-raise of the eyebrows, but replied, "Naah, it can wait. You're in. Kelly, show the boy upstairs to an empty bunk, willya?" "Sure thing, Kloppy." Jack proceeded to lead me around a doorframe and up a narrow, creaky flight of wooden steps. We arrived in what I guessed was the main bunkroom. It was filled with about twelve bunk beds, and several other newsboys were milling around, playing cards or sleeping or talking to one another. To my dismay, Jack slammed a fist against the wall, immediately commanding everyone's attention. "Listen up, boys we've got a newbie. He just joined up with the gang," Cowboy said loudly. I was greeted by a varied chorus of "hiya"s and "hello there"s, and nodded silently in return. Jack continued his spiel by individually introducing each of the newsies. "That beautiful blonde over there, we call him Kid Blink," he said with a grin, gesturing towards a tall boy with a patch over his left eye. Blink gave me a goofy grin, and waved. "That over there is Specs" A boy with small round glasses nodded to me from across the room. "This is Crutchy, and next to him is Skittery." Both boys had curly hair, and Crutchy supported his right shoulder with, well, a crutch. Skittery, a well-built boy with a rather dour expression, nodded over to me as well. Now Cowboy gestured to a short, baby faced Italian who was puffing a cigar as he played a game of Solitaire. "That's Racetrack Higgins, resident smartass and gambling addict," he said with a teasing tone to his voice. Racetrack shot Jack a grin, dark eyes flickering over me briefly. "Heya." "Hi," I responded, trying to keep my voice at a continual low. I couldn't help noticing that he was awfully cute not just cute, actually, but really handsome. He- Jack's voice interrupted my musings with more introductions. "and that's Itey, Snitch, Bumlets, Boots, and Dutchy." The five waved over at me and continued their game of jacks. "So, now that you know just about everyone, we gotta find you a bunk the one above Mush's is free, so you can have that one," Cowboy informed me. I nodded, and walked over to my newly acquired sleeping space. It took a minute for me to figure out how exactly to get up to the bed-the bunk beds' frames were ancient, a bit rusty, and had no ladders or handholds-but eventually I managed to haul myself up onto the lumpy, squeaky mattress. Not exactly high quality, but it beat the hell out of sleeping on a cement step outside all night. No sooner had I gotten up onto my bunk, then I had to figure out how to get back down again. The boys were all filing out the door and traipsing down the steps. I glanced down at Mush, and asked, "Where are they all going?" He gave me a thoroughly strange look in return. "To sell papes, a'course. That's what newsies do." I tried not to look as much of an idiot as I felt, and jumped to the floor. "Oh. Right. Of course. Well, uh, let's get a move-on, then" I said, and walked rather briskly out the door. I went with the flow, following the boys along the streets for a couple blocks until we came to a pair of gigantic iron gates. I read the lettering above the gates: New York World Distribution Center. Oh. This must be where we buy the papers. I followed Mush and the others up a large wooden boardwalk, and was jostled into line. It moved fairly quickly, and before I knew it, I was standing in front of an iron-barred window which had a rather portly, unpleasant-looking man standing behind it. He looked me over with a dull gray eye, and barked, "Whaddya want, shrimp?" I widened my eyes, slightly taken aback, but I managed to emulate the other boys, stuttering, "Tw twenty papes," as I shoved my coppers under the bars. The man seemed to derive a bit of amusement from my unsettlement, allowing himself a short, humorless chuckle before tossing a stack of papers at me and turning to the next person in line. I didn't bother to count them, just scurried down the steps to safety. "Don't let the Weasel get to you," advised Davey. He was a well-built newsie with dark curly hair. Unlike the others, he stayed with his family and younger brother Les, not at the lodging house. I never dreamed I'd be worrying about machismo, but at that moment, I was. I shrugged indifferently, trying to keep a tough demeanor. "Yeah, well, he isn't worth losing my top over," I responded. The group started walking back out to the streets. "Hey, kid, you wanna sell with me and Race? We can show you the ropes and all," offered Jack. Inwardly relieved for the guidance, I nodded. "Sure thing. Where do we sell?" "The tracks." "The harbor." Race and Jack spoke simultaneously, then looked at one another. "The tracks," Race insisted again. "The Brooklyn boys have all but taken over the harbor area." "So, as the leader of the Manhattan boys, I'll kick 'em out," retorted Jack. "Aren't you sick of the tracks, anyway? You spend half your day there." "Me? Tire of the tracks? Never!" I decided not to get involved. The harbor actually sounded more pleasant than any racetrack-I'd never liked horses much, at least not since I got thrown off of one into a muddy lake when I was ten. The harbor it was. I tagged along behind the two, decided to just watch and learn for the moment. As we walked, Jack and Race waved their papers and manipulated headlines with ease, selling faster than I'd ever thought possible. After a bit, I decided to try my luck. I opened one of my papers up and scanned for a good story. There weren't many, so I just picked a headline, waved the paper above my head, and shouted: "EXTRA! EXTRA! OKRA FARMING REACHES AN ALL-TIME HIGH! BIG SPROUTS ARE FARMER'S DELIGHT!" Boy, that was a helluva winner. The most attention that little announcement got me were short bursts of laughter from my selling partners. I scowled at them. "Hey, it's not like I've done this before" "Look, kid, you've gotta pick at least a semi-interesting headline. If you can't find one, make one up," Race advised me. "Here," he demonstrated. "FARMERS ENGORGE UPON GIANT, SUPERNATURAL VEGETABLES! FARMING REACHES A GOLDEN AGE; STOCK MARKET SOARS!" he yelled, and ended up selling about five papers in three seconds. "Oh. Right. Gotcha." I hunted for another likely headline. Here was one: President approves new immigration law. "GOVERNMENT STRUGGLES TO CONTROL ALIEN INVASION!" I screeched. One, two, three, four, five, six papers were sold. Whoa. Jack and Race gave me approving grins as I pocketed all the coins I'd gained. "Looks like you got the hang of it!" "Yeah hey, seeing as you've just sold your first set of papes, you need an official newsie name," Jack declared. "Newsie name?" I echoed inanely. "Yeah, a newsie name," said Race. "Every good newsie has one. 'Sides, if you lose your real name, the bulls can't find you as easily." Bulls? Oh. The cops. Well, avoiding discovery was certainly a benefit. "Oh, okay. So what's my newsie name?" I asked. Race pondered this for a moment. "Well hrm I don't know all that much about ya," he said. You could say that again. "Yeah. Naming you is gonna be harder, since you've been so darned shady about everything. Not that it's uncommon most of us are trying to forget where we've been and all, too," Jack chipped in. "Hey, that's it! Shady. We'll call you Shady," proclaimed Race. Hey, I liked it, and said so. Shady it was very well, very me. The other two grinned. "Good. Now we won't have to call you 'kid' anymore." I was mildly pleased to hear that. So, I was Shady now. Gaining a new name seemed like I was breaking the final tie to my old life, to which I was positive I'd never want to return. After a few more paces, we walked around a bend, and before us was the harbor. Boats were everywhere, many in disrepair, and seamen hung about here and there, cursing at one another as they played with sets of weathered cards. I could see small groups of other newsies hanging around near the docks, and followed Jack and Race as we walked towards them. As we got closer, I noticed a common theme in the appearance of these particular newsies-all looked much, much tougher then any I had already seen. Most of the boys looked extremely muscular, and carried weapons openly. They could have only been Brooklynites. However, they greeted Jack and Race enthusiastically, and were greeted just as easily in return. As Jack was spit-shaking (if there was one bad thing about being a newsie, it was the nauseating spit-shake) with some of the guys, a voice rose above the crowd. "Well, well Jacky-Boy's come to see me again," it drawled. Moments later, the other newsies parted to make way for a short, freckled boy with a key dangling from his neck. He carried a cane in one hand, and was the sort that seemed to have a permanently smug look on his face. Jack glanced up, and grinned. "Heya, Spot." They spit-shook, and Spot asked, "You been sellin' in my territory, Kelly?" "'Course I have, Conlon." Spot grinned. "Consider yourself lucky, 'cause you Manhattan types are the only ones I'd let do that." His territory? I didn't see "Spot Conlon" written anywhere. Stupid territorial males. I rolled my eyes beneath the shadow of my hat. I wasn't sure if Spot noticed or not, but at any rate, he turned to look at me. "And who's this shrimpy little tagalong, Jack?" I bristled, and replied before Jack could open his mouth. "This 'shrimpy little tagalong' isn't all that smaller than you, shorty," I snapped. Race winced, and began slightly shaking his head "no". I paid no attention to him, or Jack, who was looking rather amused at my outburst. Spot Conlon, however, was not. His bluish-green eyes widened then narrowed at me. "Shorty? Nobody talks to me that way," he informed me. "Looks like I just did," I replied, further digging my own grave. "Seems that you, shrimpy, haven't heard of me before. I," he said, "am Spot Conlon, leader of the Brooklyn newsboys, and I don't take crap from anybody." I made no effort to stifle a disdainful laugh. "Am I supposed to be impressed, or something?" My inner self was yelling at me to just shut the hell up, because even if Spot was shorter than just about everybody else, he was still a whole lot bigger than me. I need to learn how to listen to my inner self, because she's a very handy little individual. Abruptly, Spot reached over and gave me a small shove. I stumbled backwards, but regained my balance fairly quickly. "You're really wanting to start somethin', aren't you?" the Brooklyn boy jeered. "If thinking that everyone bowing down to an egotistical, worthless little weasel like you is just absurd, then yes, I am starting something," I snapped back. Oooh, shut UP, Shady, shut UP! Just then, a slender, feminine figure with bright red hair emerged from behind a nearby pile of junk. "Spot Conlon!" the girl yelled. "What are you doing, now? We've got papes to sell!" Wait, wait, wait. Hold the line. This was a girl. And she was a newsie, apparently. Nobody told me there were such things as female newsies. I was about to shed my disguise right then and there and do some serious questioning, but it was too late. I turned back to look at Spot, and all I saw was a fist flying full-force for my face. I saw it too late to avoid it, so my left eye ended up taking the hit full force. By some miracle of God, I stayed standing. I saw pretty little yellow and white stars, then shook my head to clear it, and threw a semi-blind punch in retaliation. Lo and behold, I slammed His Majesty smack in the nose. I guess he wasn't expecting such a hard punch from such a petite individual, because Conlon stumbled backwards and fell, hard. By this time, Jack had taken initiative to separate the two of us, to my great relief. The redheaded girl also came running over. She caught Spot by the ear and hauled him off the ground-it looked pretty painful. "Spot Conlon! You idiot! Slamming girls in the face!" she screeched into his captive ear. Girl? What girl? Oh, yeah, I was a girl. But how could she have known? Just then, I noticed a familiar lock of thick, coppery hair fall over my shoulder. Spot's punch had knocked my hat off, and with my long tresses down, I looked very feminine indeed. Jack, Race, and Spot gaped openly. "He's a girl!" yelled Race, once he'd picked his jaw up off of the ground. "You mean she," said Jack, blinking rapidly. Spot didn't look too remorseful that he'd just slugged a girl half his size. He was too busy mopping up the blood pouring from his nose. The redheaded newsie gave them all strange looks. "What, you didn't know?" she asked. "Shady we thought you were a guy!" Jack said, stating the obvious. I finally found my voice, picked up my hat and dusted it off. "That was actually my intent. I, uhm, didn't know there were girl newsies, and didn't want to be tossed out of the lodging house," I said quietly. Boy, did I feel like an idiot it did feel good to have the truth come out, though. I doubted I could've kept up my masquerade for much longer. Now that he was over the initial shock, Cowboy appeared to find the situation extremely funny. He threw back his head and laughed. And laughed. And laughed. "You d-didn't think that girls could" he couldn't finish his sentence. I rolled my eyes and waited impatiently for him to stop. "No, I didn't hey, it wasn't that funny!" Apparently it was, but Jack finally stopped his laughing. The redheaded girl turned to me and extended a hand. "They call me Flame," she said. "Sorry about Conlon he's such an idiot," she lamented. I grinned, shaking her hand briefly. "I'm Shady and yeah, I gathered that part." I gingerly touched my swelling eye. "Got a helluva punch, though. Ouch." I'd have a completely black eye by the end of the day. I glanced over at Race. He wasn't gaping at me any more, just had this odd sort of pensive look on his face. I quirked an eyebrow at him, then turned to Jack. "So, uh, where do I go now?" I asked. Chances were, I wouldn't be able to stay in the boys' lodging house. Damn. "Well, Flame here is the semi-official leader of the Manhattan girls house," he responded, grinning at Flame. "You got an open bunk, Flamer?" "Yeah, we can probably find one for her. You got any stuff you need to grab from the boys' place?" I shook my head no. All I had were the clothes on my back and the coins in my pocket. "Arright then." Flame nodded over at Spot. "We'll catch up with you guys in a bit in the meantime, Jacky, make sure my boy doesn't bleed to death, okay?" she requested with a grin. She and I got dual glares from Spot. I made a face and winked my good eye at him, then followed Flame away from the harbor.

After a short jaunt around Manhattan, we arrived in front of a narrow building. It looked remarkably like the boys' lodging house, except it lacked the lettering above the door that identified it as a lodging house. Come to think of it, the place was in a state of minor disrepair, and lacked the obvious upkeep the boys' place had. As Flame led me through the door, I wondered aloud, "Who do I have to sign in with? Does Kloppman run this place, too?" The redhead shot me a grin. "Kloppman? Nuh-uh us Manhattan girls are a real independent lot. Nobody runs us. We like it that way, and do just fine." "But how do you pay rent for the building?" "We don't. They used to harass us about paying for the lot and stuff, but this building's been abandoned for years, so we pretty much just took over the joint. After a while, the legal types just stopped worrying about us and we don't get the bills or nothing anymore." I nodded, following her up a narrow, creaky flight of steps and into the main (and only) bunkroom. It was decidedly smaller than the boys' place, with only four rusty bunk beds occupying the room. Despite this, it still seemed a bit crowded. "Hey, girls! We've got one another one meet Shady," announced Flame. Seven pairs of eyes turned in my direction. Seven other girls? This was a small house. "Hey." A pale, freckled girl with shoulder-length dark brown hair glanced me over. "The name's Owl. Welcome to our happy home," she drawled. "I'm Piper," offered another girl. She was about my height, with hazel eyes and wavy auburn hair. "They call me Cats," came a voice from far, far above me. I stepped back a foot and craned my neck to see who it was. Cats had bright green eyes and reddish brown hair. She stood about six feet, I estimated, and towered over the likes of short little me. "Nice to meet ya." A shorter blonde girl stood next to her, and offered me a smile. "Hiya. I'm Cheeky." "I'm Copper..." said another occupant of the house. She was thin, with very blue eyes and curly copper hair. It wasn't hard to guess where her name came from. "Apple," stated a skinny girl with short jet black hair. A fair-skinned, green-eyed girl offered me a hand. "Trapper's the name," she said. After introductions were complete, I nodded to everyone and sort of half-smiled. "Hey so, uhm, where do I sleep?" Flame pointed to a bunk closest to the window. "There's one bed left. It's the one above mine nobody else wanted to sleep next to that drafty window." Drafty windows. Fun. "Yeah, well, I'm sure this one'll do." If Fortune favored me, I'd somehow conquer getting into the top bunk without breaking my neck. Turning back to the other seven, Flame asked, "You girls finish selling already?" "A'course we did. You know we're twice as fast as any one of the boys," Copper said smugly. "Yeah. They don't have our girlish charm or, something," Owl chipped in. Flame grinned. "Right. Let's head out to lunch, then, girlies. Shady, you got any money?" "'Course I do" I responded, jingling the coppers in my pocket. I'd sold all 20 papes. Not bad, for my first day. The redhead nodded approvingly. "To Tibby's it is, then!" We traipsed down the stairs and out to the street. I'd immediately felt at home with the other girls, which wasn't any big surprise-I'd always been able to adjust to new situations pretty rapidly. It was more than just feeling comfortable, though, it was as if I'd discovered where I was really supposed to be. I didn't have much time to ponder, however; everyone else kept me on my toes with their lively chatter. We walked down the street to a small restaurant I'd noticed earlier, and entered en masse. It seemed that the other newsies had already beaten us there-most of the tables and booths were already filled with the boys I'd met earlier at the lodging house. Actually, even Spot was there. He looked a little sulky with his bruised nose, but he was there. Oh, joy of joys. We saw each other at nearly the same time-I got a glare, he got a smirk. Most of the Manhattan girls went to sit with their respective boyfriends. It didn't take long to figure out who was with who-Apple promptly sat down on Mush's lap, Owl shoved Skittery over to make room for her, Copper sat with Davey, and Trapper with Jack. Bumlets caught Cats by the elbow as she passed him, pulling her down into the chair next to him. Piper sat down on the lap of a boy I hadn't met that morning- he was tall, with high cheekbones and aqua eyes. Cheeky informed me that his name was Snoddy. Ooookay. She, Flame, and I conquered a booth of our own. "Hey, Flame, weren't you with Spot?" I asked casually. "Yeah, occasionally. Only when he's not being an idiot, and that's a rare occasion indeed." "I gathered." I ordered a soda, chili, and pastrami from the waiter. I couldn't remember the last time I ate, and I was starved. While the others and I waited for our food, a few of the boys sauntered up to our table. "Shady, that eye of yours is getting darker by the minute," proclaimed Jack. "Yeah isn't getting slugged on the first day some kind of record, or something?" Blink inquired. Cheeky grinned. "So is giving Conlon a bloody nose." The others snickered at the thought. My knuckles were still killing me-the last time I'd used them like that was in the second grade when some idiot broke all my colored pencils in half. Jerk. Race stepped up. "So, uh, you get Shady all settled?" he asked Flame. I noted that he seemed more normal, not as quiet as he was earlier. I also noted that he didn't have a girl with him. Cha-ching! "Yup. Gave her the drafty-window bed. She's a full fledged Manhattan girl, now." "Aye. I feel so honored," I drawled. He looked me over with a bright eye. "Y'know, doll, if you don't like that bed, I'm sure we could find you one over at the boys' place," he suggested lasciviously. Inwardly, I did a double-take. Hold the line was he flirting with me? I glanced at Flame. Judging from her smirk, he was. Outwardly, I arched an eyebrow. "I'm sure you could I'm also sure you could find a bed for just about every other girl in NYC. How special." Jack giggled (an odd picture, believe me) and clapped Race on the shoulder. "Yeah, watch out for this one, Shady he's a real ladies' man. Had himself a date just oh last year, wasn't it?" he teased. Race rolled his (beautiful!) brown eyes, and I winked at Jack. "Mmhmm I'll be sure to watch my back." There was another collective snicker, and then conversation turned to other things. I set upon my chili and such with a vengeance-chances are, I ate like a rabid wolf, but at that particular point in time I didn't give a damn how I looked, so long as my stomach was full. When my hunger pains had finally subsided, I was able to turn my mind to other things. Race had sat down next to Cheeky, and just happened to be across the table from me. We unconsciously started up one of those eye-games-me sneaking a look at him and vice versa, and then both of us feigning disinterest and playing with the sugar packets, or something. I half-heartedly listened to the conversation, occasionally murmuring some mediocre response. A query from Mush snapped me back to the present. "So, anyone else going to the pier tonight? It's a good night for swimmin'," he stated. Nearly everyone responded with enthusiastic agreement. Flame glanced out the window. "Let's get going before it gets any darker," she ordered. So we did. Everyone got up and began to meander on down the streets toward the harbor. I must have looked exceptionally elated or something, because Flame yanked me off to one side, and informed me, "Don't be too taken with Race. He flirts with any girl who'll listen." Great. Way to pop my bubble. "Oh I'm, uh, not. I just think he's good-looking and stuff, that's all," I fibbed. The redhead seemed satisfied with my answer, though, and didn't say much else. Eventually, we reached the pier. Several of the boys pulled off their shirts (much to the delight of the girls) and made a beeline for the water. I decided to hang back and just watch for a while, and shuffled out towards the very end of the pier and sat down, feet dangling a few feet above the water. It looked black and cold, and I wasn't in the mood to swim, anyway. I looked down into the water ruminatively, and was just beginning to go into one of my Zoned Out moods when I heard quiet footsteps behind me. For some reason, it took little effort to figure out who it was. "Whaddya want, Race?" "How'd you know it was me?" He sounded surprised, and mildly disappointed. "Call it an educated guess. You weren't planning on shoving me into the harbor, now were you?" I inquired. To my jubilation, he came and sat down next to me with an innocent grin. "Me, do such a thing? Never. Not that you weren't a perfect target" he commented. "So, what do you want?" "Merely to bask in your glory, Great One," he drawled, then rolled his eyes. "Why do I have to want something? Can't I just sit here to sit here?" "You could but I've got a feeling you're not that type. You've got an ulterior motive," I said bluntly. Race gave me a curious glance-oh, those eyes-and asked, "A little suspicious, aren't we, doll?" I gave him a smirk. "Only when I think I've got reason to be. Look, I'm not into players, okay? I'm not planning on being just another pawn in the game." Spiel said, I stood up and walked back down to the shore, not waiting for a response. Great, Shady, just great. Why did I always let silly things like standards get in my way? Now that he'd learned I wasn't interested in being an addition to any harem, he'd probably drop me like a hot coal. It was rapidly becoming too dark to see, so everyone decided to turn in for the night. I walked back to the lodging house with the rest of the Manhattan girls and crawled up into my frigid little bed. Thankfully, the night was pretty warm, and the cool breeze blowing in through the cracked window put me right to sleep.

The next week passed fairly uneventfully. I adjusted to the schedule of a newsie pretty quickly-it still took a crowbar and a bucket of cold water to get me out of bed in the morning, as it always has. Race had toned down his act considerably-in fact, he didn't say much to me at all, and I halfheartedly regretted telling him those things that night on the pier. Every so often, though, I'd catch him glancing at me, and whenever we happened to touch, there was always some current of static electricity, and we both got zapped. One particular morning-a Friday-I was prodded awake by Flame, as usual. "Get up already, Shady. It's ten o'clock, for crying out loud." I opened one eye, and croaked, "Ten o'clock? Why didn't you wake me up at six, like usual? All the papes have probably been sold!" Piper wandered up, and rolled her eyes. "Didn't anyone tell you? It's June 27th." I sat up and looked at her blearily. "What's so special about June 27th?" "It's like a holiday for the newsies. Today's the day we beat Pulitzer a few years ago, so to remember it, nobody sells papes." "Yeah," Copper chimed in. "And we always have a big party at Medda's place. We're gonna head over there in a little bit to get ready. It's so much fun, Shady! She lends us all these dresses and we get to look all girlish and pretty and" "I'm sure it's a riot," I muttered, and flopped back down onto my pillow. This lasted, oh, 2 seconds, when several pairs of hands hauled me off of my bed and dumped me unceremoniously on the floor. "Oh, no you don't," said Owl sternly. "You're one of us, so you have to come to Irving Hall and act stupid and girly with all the rest of us." "Aaah, fine," I grumbled. "Always knew I should've been a boy" The others grinned. "Hurry up, then," said Flame. "We're gonna leave for our fun-filled day of primping in just a few minutes." I pulled on some clothes and ran a brush through my hair, then we all trooped down the steps and made the short walk to Medda's theater. Medda was a semi-Swedish performer who was roughly 60% legs and 40% chest, and wore only pink. Needless to say, the boys were crazy about her. She was nice enough, I suppose, but rather creeped me out. at any rate, she was going on the road for a week and allowed the Manhattan girls free reign of her spare wardrobe, dressing rooms, and such. We entered through one of the side stage doors and went up a flight of stairs to the main dressing room, a sunny, carpeted room with lots of mirrors and lights. There were chests of drawers everywhere, and we all had a ball looting each one. Medda had more dresses and costumes than I'd ever seen in my life, and once we had finished pulling them all out, the floor was literally covered with outfits of all shapes and sizes. I plopped down onto an oversized cushion and watched the others dig through the various ensembles. With a shriek, Cheeky unearthed a short white cotton dress embroidered with tiny red flowers. "I love this one!" she exclaimed. "Found my dress." She tried it on and it was a perfect fit. We collectively oohed and aahed, and then Piper found a gold dress that she liked, and we oohed and aahed some more. Apple discovered a simple long-sleeved black one, and Trapper got a short green dress that perfectly matched her eyes. Copper chose a dress that remarkably resembled the one Medda usually wore (why, I'll never know), and Owl picked a short sky blue outfit. After spending roughly an hour trying to decide between "the slinky black one" or the "loud red one," Flame decided on the latter. It was a dark red (blood red, Owl called it), and nearly matched her hair. Cats had a hell of a time finding a dress long enough for her, but eventually she discovered an attractive royal purple dress that fit pretty well. Eventually, everyone was happy with their ensemble. "Very nice," I said. "Are y'all sufficiently feminine, now?" I should've kept my mouth shut and just stayed inconspicuous, because they immediately whirled on me with pained expressions. "Can it, Shades. It's your turn, now," said Owl. I shook my head. "Uhm no I never went for all that frilly getup." Copper took to holding up various dresses to my shoulders to see how they fit. "Nuh-uh you gotta look all pretty, too" Rolling my eyes, I grumbled, "I don't have anyone to look pretty for, and besides, dresses just aren't my thing" Cheeky held up a hideous lime-green skirt and a bright orange top. "Shady, either you find something to wear, or we find it for you," she said menacingly. I figured I was fighting a losing battle, and finally got up off of my cushion. "Oh, fine" They all grinned at one another as I dug through the masses of clothes, tossing the rejects over my shoulder as I searched. "Nope nope nuh-uh no no wouldn't be caught dead in that nope what is this, a hand-me-down from Denton? no way uh-uh no-oh, hey. This one might be tolerable." After a bit of tugging, I fished out a dress that looked promising. It was a beautiful deep blue color and made out of some sort of satin-y material. No bows, no frills-not even sleeves, just two broad straps. Cool. I ducked behind a changing screen and pulled it on-it fell to my ankles, and had a rather lengthy slit up the right side. I walked back out to show the others, and they all approved. "Beautiful. See? The dress isn't biting you, good little article of clothing that it is," remarked Cats. I made a face at her, and asked, "So, is that it? Can we go now?" "Hardly," replied Flame. "Now we do our hair." "Oh, rapture." "Doing our hair" took even longer than finding a dress. Hair was braided and re-braided and curled and pinned and twisted and sprayed and manipulated in every way humanly possible. I got off easily with just having my hair done in a few big, loose curls. Fortunately, it wasn't too painful and didn't take long. "Now can we go? We've been here for hours!" I whined. "We should liven up the pace a little," Piper remarked, securing her bun. "The boys are getting here around seven." "Okay, okay. Let's just raid the make-up real fast and then we can go out to the theater," said Copper. So we all slapped on some blush and eye shadow and lipstick, and then left the room. I felt rather like a clown in costume, but as I passed a mirror, I stopped to appraise my new look. All of us did look good, and though I didn't admit it, it felt nice. The girls and I all traipsed back out into the hallway and to the flight of stairs that curved down into the main theater. Shouts, whistles, and various catcalls from the boys greeted us as we went down the stairs, one by one-Copper's heels were about 6 inches high, and she just about killed herself going down, but eventually made it. I went last. Race was lounging near the foot of the stairs-we saw each other at nearly the same time, and the look on his face was worth a million dollars. Well, a million dollars or all the time spent getting into all that getup. Perhaps being girlish wasn't such a bad thing, after all. I shot him a wink, lifted my chin in the air, and descended the steps with as much grace as I could possibly pull off. I didn't bother saying anything to him as I passed-I figured I wouldn't get much of an answer, anyway, until he picked his jaw up off the floor. I walked semi-steadily (I'd been outfitted with a pair of shiny black shoes-they didn't have much of a heel, but it wasn't like I'd worn such shoes before) over to where Mush, Apple, Flame, Spot, and a few others were talking. Mush gave me that giant, boyish grin of his. "Hey, Shady! You're a real looker tonight all the girls are," he said, squeezing Apple's hand. I smiled at them. Flame was busily fussing over the juxtaposition of Spot's tie, and he was complaining loudly. "Flame no stoppit my tie is fine. Get offa me, girl" Eventually satisfied, she backed off with a sniff. "There. Now you look at least halfway decent." "Is 'decent' even in Spot's vocabulary?" I queried, receiving a glare from the latter. "Eh, probably not. Say, we're going up to one of the wings for Jack's spiel-c'mon." I followed the small group up the flight of stairs that led to the left balcony. "Jack's spiel?" "Yeah every year, Jack always feels he's gotta give a speech about the strike and crap," Trapper told me as we all sat down in the cushy red seats. Flame and Spot were on one side of me, and Race just happened to sit down on my left. Jack climbed up onto the stage, cleared his throat, and began to ramble on about Pulitzer and the strike and courage and whatnot. I listened patiently for a while, but eventually detached from the happenings down below and turned my attention to more immediate things-like the way Race kept eyeing my neatly crossed legs. That one thigh-high slit up the side of my dress made it a lot easier to walk, but also made it a lot more revealing. I rather liked it, actually, but gave Race a "looky no touchy" glance just the same. He just gave me his most innocent of grins, and I couldn't help smiling back. Just as Jack's speech ended, Race leaned over and murmured in my ear, "So, what're you doing after this gig?" "Going home. Going to bed. By myself," I replied flatly. "I told you, Race, I'm not-" "-interested in being just another face in the crowd, right?" he finished. "Look, doll, did it ever occur to you that you might not be? That I might actually be serious, of all things? That I honestly think you're the most beautiful broad I've ever seen?" I widened my eyes, twisting around to face him directly. I half-noticed Flame ushering everyone else back downstairs as I gave my inane reply. "You really think so?" "I really think so," the Italian replied quietly. Just as I was mulling over how uncharacteristic this behavior was of him, he added with a sly grin, "Gotta admit, I had quite I scare when I first metcha. First time I'd ever felt attraction towards a guy thought I might be turning into Blink, or something." I giggled helplessly. So that explained it. "So, uh, what do you propose?" I inquired. "Naah, I don't want to propose yet," he quipped, then got serious again. "Shady be my girl." I hesitated momentarily. Anyone within a three foot radius could just feel the electricity between us, but I was Shady, the girl who'd always balked at entering any sort of relationship. I then made the mistake of looking up into his eyes, and I was sunk. Something buried very deep inside me knew that this, this was the guy I was made for, and vice versa. I began to whisper a "yes", but before I got the chance, my mouth was sealed with a kiss. It was gentle, but certainly not tentative, and the first kiss I'd ever received-unless, that is, you count the one that was stolen by some kid named Jeremy in the fifth grade. (I've always had the hunch that he would have gladly taken it back to spare himself from being kicked into the next week.) His kiss lingered long after it was broken. It lingered as a warm, tingly feeling that completely filled the inside of me; a feeling I'd never get tired of. Once I could think straight again, I gave Race a grin. "So, as I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted yes." "Well then I'll be sure to interrupt you more often." I stood up, straightened my dress, and pulled him to his feet. "C'mon, boy let's go join the party."

[dreamerstreamer]

A Terrible Tutor

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: [High School!AU] He’s cocky, annoying, a total tease, has a laugh loud enough to shake the stars, and you hate him. But as luck would have it, he’s also your tutor.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: minor cursing

A/N: this is based on a classmate i had way back! (we did not fall in love. he was awful.) i’ve also never taken physics, but i tried something a bit new for the reader’s personality. i hope you enjoy :) <3

You glared down at your physics textbook, the open pages staring back up at you with beady eyes made of diagrams and labels. Off to the side, your notebook was strewn across your desk, a list of questions scribbled across the top line in a hurried rush. The handwriting was messier than you would have liked, but the thought didn’t irritate you.

What did irritate you was that it was nearly half past four, and your so-called tutor still hadn’t shown up.

You could still envision the concerned look on Mr. Craftson’s face as he held you back a moment after class, watching as the rest of your classmates poured out of the door with an anxious look. He had offered you a kind smile before pulling out your test from the week before, and you winced at the numerous red marks scattered across the front page alone.

“I know you’ve been struggling in this class,” he said, gazing at you almost pitifully.

You tried not to glower at the sight of his apologetic eyes trained on you, instead nodding your head slowly. “It’s been… hard,” you said slowly.

He leaned an arm on his chair, pushing your test toward you. “You ask questions in class,” he hummed, “and from what I’ve seen, you complete your homework diligently.” His smile fell. “Yet here you are me, with the lowest mark in my class.”

You wanted to shrivel up into a ball. Maybe he didn’t have to say it like that, but he wasn’t wrong, either.

At your silence, he prodded at you. “Is there anything going on at home that might be hindering you, or…?”

You whipped your head up, your eyes wide. “No! Things are—things are great. It’s just…”

You swallowed, then sighed, fidgeting your fingers on your lap. “I guess,” you murmured, trying to quell the shame flaring up inside you, “I’ve just been really struggling with the material, and none of it’s really been clicking.”

Mr. Craftson’s face softened in an instant. “That’s alright. Thank you for being honest with me. If my teaching hasn’t been working out with you…”

He paused, rubbing at the blond stubble on his chin for a moment. Then, his face lit up and he leaned forward. “Tell you what,” he said. “I’ve got a great student who I think might be able to explain things to you in a way you might be able to grasp a little better. He’s got the best marks in this class.”

Your eyes widened. The best in the class? He had to be a genius.

“I have a good feeling he can meet you tomorrow at four after school to help you out,” he continued, leaning against the arm rest of his office chair. “What do you say?”

You blinked, a thoughtful look passing over your face. Lord knew you needed the help—you were practically failing the class—but an uneasy stone settled into the pit of your stomach. You’ve never needed tis much help to pass a class before. The thought made you want to gag. Slowly, you opened your mouth.

“Do I have to…” You gestured vaguely. “Pay him or something?”

His cerulean eyes blinked at you for a second, then he laughed—the kind of deep-belly laugh only teachers seemed to be able to have. “No, no,” he said, waving his hand at you, “not at all. He’s a good kid. He wouldn’t do something like that.”

You bobbed your head, your insides crumbling. You didn’t want to accept, you really didn’t. Part of you guys wanted to believe that you could just work harder, study by yourself even more. You were a dedicated student, and you were doing just fine in all your other classes. Surely the content couldn’t get that much harder, right?

But as your gaze lowered to the red ink staining your test once more, you felt yourself swallowing the lump in your throat. Straightening your back, you let your stubborn pride seep out of your shoulders and onto the floor.

It looked like this was a sacrifice you were simply going to have to make.

“Thank you so much for the offer,” you said, letting your lips curl up into a genuine, grateful smile. “It—it really means a lot.”

Mr. Craftson grinned at you, an easygoing flint shining in his eyes. “Of course. You’re a bright student. Sometimes we all just need a little push.”

You could still remember shaking his hand in thanks before bundling your stuff in your arms and shuffling into the hall, tucking your feet between the pages of your textbook. That had been yesterday, and now, the same one was sitting on your desk, open to a new page full of jumbled words you could hardly decipher.

The chair across from you was distinctly empty.

He—whoever he was—was late.

You distantly wondered to yourself who your tutor even was, your gaze drifting down to your textbook. Mr. Craftson had said he was the best student taking the class. Would it be George? He always seemed like he knew what was going on, and he never really asked questions. But sometimes, he looked like he was just zoning out. Maybe it was Technoblade. He was smart. You paused, then shook your head. No, everyone knew he was one of those English kids.

The thought made you furrow your brows, wracking your head even more. The words on the page grew muddled and fuzzy as you thought even more. Just who was it?

Just then, you heard the classroom door swing open with the same loud creak every door in the school seemed to have. The sound of heavy breaths and panting filled the air, then a haggard voice spoke up.

“Hey, I’m so sorry I’m late.”

You didn’t look up from your page, letting a sigh escape your lips as you lifted your head. Plastering a polite smile to your face, you let your gaze travel toward your tutor. “Hi, it’s nice to me—”

Suddenly, your voice died in your throat as your eyes locked onto the figure standing in the doorway. Towering over the desks with a duffel bag resting against his hip, his dirty blond locks were damp and matted against his forehead, his emerald eyes blinking at you. Something bitter and warm twisted in your gut at the sight, and the smile dropped off your face and into a scowl.

“Oh,” you said flatly. “It’s you.”

The smile he offered you was easygoing, but you didn’t miss the strain in his gaze. “It’s me.”

You bit on the inside of your cheek, your heart practically revolting against your rib cage with the way it was hammering. A million questions were darting around the inside of your skull, only making your blood boil even more with each passing second.

Of all the people you had expected to show up, Clay was easily the last.

The two of you had first met back in freshman year in your first science class—he had sat behind you and had the loudest laugh on the planet, or so you were convinced. You were quieter back then, but just as stubborn and snappish as now. Soon enough, one thing led to another, and you swore the two of you were suddenly enemies for life.

Although you couldn’t remember what had caused your little feud, you knew that he was the one who started it. He was loud and kicked your chair, he just loved to borrow your pens and never return them, and you could never figure out just why he loved to tease you so much. You don’t think you learned a single thing in that class, always distracted by the presence staring a hole into your back, and you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

Naturally, that meant your teacher assigned him to sit behind you for the rest of the year. To this day, you were convinced she hated you, and you still avoided her in the halls.

To say that science class was your least favourite would be an understatement, and soon enough, everybody was in on your hatred for each other. Clay never seemed to stop pestering you no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, and you would never forget the day you finally snapped at him, whipping around to glare at him with your cheeks on fire.

“Will you please shut up?”

The shocked look on his face was still burned into your memory as it melted into a wide, proud grin.

“Only if you make me.”

Even years later, he always seemed to find a way to worm himself back into your life, and you hated it. You hated him, simple as that.

So, seeing him standing in front of you like this, it took every ounce of your strength to keep your voice as neutral as possible.

“What took you so long?”

He patted his duffel bag before slipping it off his shoulder and setting it on the ground. “I just finished football practice. Coach ran a little long and I figured it would be polite to take a shower before so I didn’t smell all sweaty when I tutored you.”

You blinked, your mouth falling open. That explained his wet hair, you guessed. While you were vaguely flattered, you were distracted by something else. “You knew that you would be tutoring me?”

Clay nodded, pulling back the chair in front of you. “Yeah. Phil asked me.”

You gaped. “You call Mr. Craftson by his first name?”

His smile was a touch too smug for your liking, and you wanted to wipe it off his face. “Maybe. I was surprised when he asked, though.” He wrinkled his nose and shot you a teasing smirk as he sat down. “I didn’t think you would be failing this class.”

You glowered, that same bitter feeling bubbling up in your chest, again. “I’m not failing,” you snapped. “I’m just…” You paused, your cheeks growing hot. “…not passing.”

He gave you a deadpan look, then laughed. “That’s the same thing.”

You sent him a gesture that your teacher most certainly would have scolded you for if he was here, and he laughed even harder. You were suddenly reminded of just how damn loud his laugh was, sounding like fireworks in your ears. Slumping over, you hung your head in your hands.

“Ugh. I can’t believe you knew you were going to be tutoring me of all people.” You paused, then added, “I can’t believe you agreed.”

He tilted his head at you, brushing his damp hair out of his face. “Did you not know I was gonna be your tutor?”

“No.” You frowned. “If I did, I wouldn’t have shown up.”

His eyes flickered with mirth as a smile stretched across his face. “Aw, am I really that disagreeable?”

“Yes,” you said immediately, your gaze as sharp as a blade. “Without a doubt. A hundred percent. I didn’t even have to think about it.”

He whistled, feigning a wince. “Harsh.”

Wryly, you said, “You deserve it.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “I wasn’t that bad as a freshman, was I?”

You gave him a hard, callous stare. “Do you really think I’m the one you should be asking that question?”

He thought about it for a moment, then sighed. “Okay, point taken.”

You dragged a hand over your face, then pointed at your textbook. “Are you going to teach me now or what? We’re already behind.”

He winced for real this time, and you almost felt bad for him. Almost. “Sorry, again.”

“Seriously,” you muttered under your breath, reaching into your back to grab your pencil case, “and to think that you have the highest grades in this class.”

“Hey,” he shot back, “I’m brains and brawn.”

You shot him a look that was nothing short of disgusted. He cringed a little at the sight.

“Okay, that was cheesy, but I’m not wrong. Besides, coach says I have to keep my grades up or else I’m off the team.” He leaned closer to you, and you tried to ignore the feeling of his hot breath fanning over your skin. “You know I can’t let everyone down like that.”

You looked unconvinced. “Uh huh. Totally.” Whipping out a pencil, you tapped at the bottom of the page you had open. “Can you explain this to me, now? The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave.”

He quietly chuckled, and you hated how soft it sounded. Leaning closer to the textbook to read, his lips mouthed the problem silently. You tried not to stare at his mouth as it moved, your gaze tracing over the soft dip of his lips as his viridian eyes flashed with recognition. A moment later, he sat back and cocked his head at you.

“So, what exactly do you not understand?”

You didn’t miss a beat. “Everything.”

He blinked, disbelief colouring his features. “Everything? Like, the whole thing?”

You scowled. “I thought that was obvious. All that stuff about velocity and the funny diagrams—” You shook your head. “—none of it makes sense.”

He raised a brow at you. “I thought you were paying attention in class. You really don’t understand a single thing?”

You bit back the urge to scream. “It’s not like you’re much smarter.”

Clay snorted derisively. “I am. That’s kind of the whole point.”

You groaned, letting your voice ring out in the quiet of the empty classroom. You caught a glimpse of his amused smile in front of you, and it only made you groan louder.

“You’re the one who ruined science for me, you know? I hated going to that class, and look at me now.” You gestured to yourself, using your finger to draw a ring in the air. “It all comes full circle.”

There was a brief second of silence. “I’m the reason why you hate science?”

You didn’t budge. “I wasn’t exactly jumping for joy knowing I was going to be stuck in a class with someone who never gave me my stuff back and kicked my chair.”

Another wave of silence washed over the two of you, but this one was tense—heavy. He swallowed, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob.

“You…” His eyes swirled with something sad and honest. “You really hate me that much?”

He suddenly looked a lot like a kicked puppy, and a pang of guilt shot through your chest like a bullet. With a panicked gaze, your voice grew shaky as you spoke. “I—I don’t hate you. I just… I had a grudge, I guess.”

Your tone grew soft, and you lowered your gaze to your lap. “I… I really didn’t like you back then, but things have changed.” You offered him a small smile, but it felt shy. “We’re not exactly fourteen, anymore.”

He returned your smile with one of his own. Just like yours, it was small and tender, and it sent something stirring in the depths of your belly. “No,” he murmured, “we’re not.”

“I,” you breathed, gulping down the last dredges of your grudge, “was stubborn back then.” You raised a shoulder. “In a way, I still am. I have too much pride for my own good too, but I don’t hate you.” The look you sent him had a spark of mischief, and his breath hitched. “Strongly dislike, at best.”

Clay blinked at you, looking half-surprised and half-awed at you. You squirmed under his gaze before he snapped out of his stupor, almost bashfully ducking his head. “I’m… It’s definitely too late for me to say this now when I really should have said it all those years ago, but I’m sorry. Really. I was a dick.”

You snorted under your breath, fondly mumbling, “Yeah, you were.”

His face perked up at the sound of your bitten back laugh. “I really shouldn’t have teased you so much. My reasons were… dumb.”

You cocked a brow at him, almost as if to say, Oh? Do elaborate.

But instead, you watched as his ears burned crimson red and he flashed you a pair of bright, pleading eyes. “Forgive me? Please.”

Your heart leapt into your throat, something new and warm bursting along the seams of your lungs. You couldn’t possibly say no to a face like that. Even the toughest person on the planet would crack under a look as sincere as that, you tried to reason, ultimately letting out a sigh with a stammer.

“O-Only if you actually can get me to understand this unit.” Pushing down the heat creeping up your neck, you pointed at him with an accusatory look. “Until then, you’re on thin ice.”

The grin he sent you was beyond dazzling—you couldn’t have brought yourself to look away even if you wanted to.

(And you didn’t.)

“Gotcha.”

Clay finished scribbling a diagram onto the new page of your notebook, flicking his thumb back to reveal the hordes of previous pages you had filled with other practice problems. If you were being honest, you were a little envious of just how neat his drawings were. No one should be able to draw a line as straight as that without a ruler, yet here he was, doing exactly that.

What a show-off.

Feeling your eyes on him, Clay lifted his head to catch your gaze, turning the notebook to face you. You tried to pretend the stumbling of your heart wasn’t because of him—not at all. “Do you get it?” he breathed.

You glanced back and forth between him and your page, your grip on your pencil falling slack. “I think so,” you said slowly. “Mostly, at least.”

He hummed for a moment, then flipped your notebook around until it was facing him again and holding an expectant, open hand toward you. Without even thinking, you dropped your pencil into his palm, a spark running up your fingers at the slight brush of his skin against yours. Carefully, he wrote a string of words on a new line, circling the sentence when he was done.

“Here,” he said gently, pushing the pencil back between your fingers, “try this question. This was one of the harder ones from my test.”

Gingerly, you peered down at the page, and your mouth fell open at the sight. This question was far more complicated than anything you had been solving in the textbook before this. What was he thinking?

“If you get it right,” he said suddenly, casting you out of your thoughts, “you should be all set.” His lips curved up into a taunting, knowing grin. “But it’s okay if you don’t get it—it is difficult, after all.”

You stared for a second longer, then grumbled under your breath. How could he read your mind like that? You were going to prove him wrong, even if only to knock that smug look off his face.

Leaning down, you tackled the problem head on, your pencil flying across the page as you spelled out formulas and equations, doodling a diagram when you had to and pausing to think every other breath. Before you, you didn’t see Clay watching you with a soft, tender gaze, taking in the way your fingers fidgeted against your pencil when you stopped and how you chewed on your mouth when you got nervous.

You really were more endearing than you could ever know.

Suddenly, you let your pencil clatter against the table as you pushed your notebook toward him, eyeing your pencil scratches with a wary look. “Done.”

His viridian eyes gleamed with excitement. “Alright,” he said, plucking the paper from your desk with a practiced ease, “let’s take a look.”

His gaze scanned your work intently, his lips pressed together in focus. You folded your hands onto your lap, trying to focus on his analysis of you work. But the longer you looked, the more you felt your gaze trailing up to graze his cheeks. Did he always have so many freckles? You didn’t remember seeing him with this many as a freshman, but you also spent more time glaring at him than staring at him back then.

In a way, he was kind of... pretty. Handsome, even. Not that you would ever say it out loud.

You suddenly had a strong urge to reach up and trace feather-light lines between each of his freckles, but before you could even take another breath, Clay’s eyes were on yours again. Unlike earlier, the look on his face was grave, and a small grimace overtook his features.

“I have bad news,” he said dryly.

Your heart fell.

Of course you got something wrong. You were a fool to think that things would change just because Clay would be teaching you instead.

But then, his grimace curled up at the corners, and your jaw dropped.

“I have nothing left to teach you in this unit.”

Your eyes widened.

“I got it right?”

He turned the notebook back to face you. A large check mark had been scribbled in pencil along the side of the page, a tiny smiley face decorating the corner next to it.

“Perfectly.”

The gasp you let out sent you barrelling for your feet, and you nearly started jumping for joy in the middle of your seat. “Yes!” you cried, pumping a hand up in the air. Suddenly, you whirled to point at Clay, a pout forming on your lips. “Oh my god, you scared the crap out of me! Don’t do that.”

He chuckled, leaning back with his hands up defensively. “Sorry, sorry. I saw the opportunity and just had to take it.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you stuck your tongue out at him. “You’re terrible.”

His eyes softened—sincere and sweet. “I know.”

Ignoring the sudden burst of warmth rushing through your veins, you huffed at him. “Well, at least I have two pieces of good news for you. First,” you said, sliding your notebook off your desk, “we can both go home, now.”

“And the second?” he prompted, looking at you inquisitively.

You folded your notebook shut, boring a hole into your backpack with the intensity of your stare. You couldn’t look at him right now, you just couldn’t.

“Second,” you nearly whispered, “I accept your apology.”

Slipping your textbook into your bag, you heard him take a sharp intake of breath. “Really?”

You reached for your pencil case, fumbling with the zipper. “Yes.”

There was another breath, but this one was gentler, less harsh. You peeked up at him from your bag, and your heart stuttered at the ecstatic look on his face.

“This,” he said, “is the greatest day of my life.”

You blinked wildly at him, zipping your backpack up all the way before slinging it onto the desk. “That’s a little extreme, isn’t it?”

He shook his head, his smile never once faltering. “Are you kidding? I thought you were going to hate my guts forever!”

You shrugged, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I might have.” You paused. “Actually, I probably would have. But luckily for you—” You shot him a sincere look. “—not anymore.”

His grin grew impossibly wider, yet it somehow still looked natural on him. Deep down, a part of you wanted to bottle up his expression and remember it for as long as you lived.

“Like I said, greatest day of my life.”

You giggled, rolling your eyes. “Weirdo.”

Pushing in your chair and gesturing for him to stand, you jutted your head toward the door. Clay didn’t need to be queued twice before he was rising to his feet, pushing the chair back to its rightful spot before heaving his duffel bag off the floor and onto his side. As the two of you headed out towards the door, a bought suddenly flickered across your head, and your lips began moving before you could even begin to think.

“One of these days, you need to tell me why you liked to pick on me so much. Like, seriously, why me?” You gestured to yourself as the two of you stepped outside into the school hallway. “I’m not exactly special.”

You hadn’t been looking at him in that moment, focused on closing the door behind you, but when he didn’t respond for a moment, you looked up and felt your lungs tighten. You had never seen Clay look so bashful in his life, with his ears flaring crimson red and a faint rosy tint dusting the panes of his cheeks. His freckles were only more noticeable with the pink background, and you nearly blurted something you knew you would regret.

“Maybe I’ll—” He coughed, rubbing the back of his neck with a smile. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

Before you could even ask what he meant by that, he was firing off once more. “In the meantime, if you still need help, I don’t mind coming in again next week or something.”

You nearly took a double take. Next week? He wanted to help you, again?

“Don’t you have more important things to do?” you asked, scanning him with wide, curious eyes. “Like studying your own stuff.”

“You’re important,” he said abruptly.

You choked on your spit, and by the way he went absolutely stock still in front of you, you had a feeling he hadn’t meant to say that.

“Oh,” you whispered.

That warm, fuzzy feeling from earlier was rising between your lungs again, only this time it sent your heart racing around your chest. Sucking in a deep breath, you nodded your head once, twice.

“Sure,” you managed to say as calmly as you could. “The, um, the next unit looks a little confusing, so I might need some help.”

Clay’s face suddenly brightened at your soft request for assistance, and you caught his shoulders slumping with relief as he smiled. “Awesome.” He paused, then waved his hand. “Not the part about you needing help, I mean.”

You laughed a little at that, your nerves calming a bit more. “I would hope not.”

He smiled back at you. “So,” he said, drawing out the syllable, “I’ll be back same time next week?”

You couldn’t help but reach over to elbow him a little playfully. “Try to be on time though, yeah?”

He flushed a bit, but cracked a crooked grin nonetheless. “I’ll try my best.” He glanced over his shoulder down the hall, and you suddenly realized you would be heading in the opposite direction.

“I’ll see you around?” he murmured gently, brushing away his now dry hair from his forehead.

One of your hands tightened around the straps of your bag while the other waved back at him. “See you.”

With one last grin at you, you watched as he turned on his heel, striding down the hall with his duffel bag bouncing against the side of his hip. Just then, your eyes grew wide, and you cupped your hands around your mouth to call after him.

“One last thing, Clay!” you shouted, your voice echoing down the empty corridor.

At the sound of his name, he whipped around again, his brows knitted together. Breathing in deeply, you screwed your eyes shut and called out once more.

“Thank you!”

When you opened your eyes again, his emerald green eyes were blinking at you with wild abandon, his lips parted in what could only be described as a look of pure wonder. Your heart skipped a beat, and you wondered why he was looking at you of all people like that.

Swallowing, he sent you a lopsided, earnest smile and cupped his own hands around his mouth to shout back at you.

“Anytime!”

You kept waving at him even after he let his arms drop back to his sides and he vanished around the corner of the hall. Almost immediately, you bent over to bury your head into your knees, letting out a soft, muffled yell.

Why did your chest feel so warm when he looked at you like that? Why did you want to count his freckles so badly when he smiled? Was he always so nice, so helpful and kind? Why did he look so cute when his face flushed all pink like the way it did before? When did he become so endearing instead of annoying?

Did you like him?

You let out another muffled cry into your hands, feeling heat flood every part of your body like a tidal wave crashing into your system. You could hear your heart ringing in your ears like a bell that wouldn’t ever stop, and your toes curled into your shoes.

You had so, so many questions, none of which you knew how to solve.

Hopefully Clay could help you figure out the answers.

#mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #mcyt imagines #mcyt imagine #mcyt scenario #mcyt reactions #dream smp x reader #dream smp x y/n #dream smp x you #dsmp x reader #dsmp x y/n #dsmp x you #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x you #dream x reader #dream x you #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken scenario #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken fanfic #mcyt fanfic #mcyt fanfiction #dream fanfic #dream imagine #dream imagines #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp imagines

[lvcillee]

you harshly opened the door and went inside, tossing your purse aggressively on the couch in anger. your boyfriend, levi kept babbling behind you as he followed your steps.

“ugh can you shut up” you shouted and faced him.

his brows lifted up in disbelief. he scoffed and retorted.

“shut up?! y/n do you really expect me to shut the hell up? I caught you lying. you said you’d only hang with your female friends but why was he there !?”

you sighed heavily and ran your hands to your hair, tugging on it in frustration.

you knew it wasn’t a good idea for lying to him buy you knew levi wouldn’t allow you to go out figuring out that the guy he loathes is also with you.

“it’s not like i’m alone with him. mikasa , historia and sasha were also there !” you blurted.

levi rolled his eyes, not accepting your reason as he didn’t find it valid. “and so what? that’s not the point there, jean was still with you. who would’ve known what he’s done to you when I wasn’t there. do you want to date him, huh?!”

you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down and not rant on him more as you know it’d only make the argument more worse. you rubbed your temples and replied.

“for fucks sake ackerman stop exaggerating things! we just hung out, we didn’t do anything more!” you said, trying to persuade him.

as soon as you put your hand down ; the hand you were using to rub your temples , hits on the broken glass you forgot to throw last night.

it was on the table beside you and the piece of it was scattered.

“ah!” you winced in pain.

you immediately looked at your hand and saw blood oozing out of it. it was painful but still fine enough to endure.

“baby!” you heard levi exclaim.

he ran towards you and grabbed your hand, looking at it.

“are you okay?” he asks , making an eye contact with you.

“yeah, it’s just a wound” you looked away after responding.

he gasped.“just a wound?! y/n no , stay here.i’ll go grab the first aid kid”

you kept quiet and just let him be. in a short time, he came back and let you sit on the couch. he opened the kid and start to treat your wound.

you stared at him as he gently and carefully treated it, trying not to hurt you or let you feel some sort of pain.

i’m such a dumbass, it’s all my fault.

“i’m sorry” you spoke up, cutting off the silence.

he looked up at you and smiled. “i’m sorry too”

“i’m sorry i lied. i didn’t want you to get mad. i know you hate him but he’s still my friend” you sighed, lowering your head and staring at your lap.

levi grinned widely. he knew you were always a softie and can’t handle or take a day being in a fight with him.

he lifted your chin up with his free hand. “will you get mad if i profess that i was mad because i was jealous and not because i hate jean , well technically i hate him too.”

you laughed. “no. it’s okay you have every right to get jealous , you’re my boyfriend”

he smiled and kissed your wounded hand, not breaking the eye-contact between the two of you.

“brat i’m sleepy.” he says , yawning a little which made you chuckle as he looked really cute.

“let’s g-hey!!” you exclaimed as you were being lift up, carried by him. “put me down, i’m heavy”

levi laughed and leaned in to peck your lips.

“my sweet brat, you’re just as light as a feather”

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi attack on titan #attack on titan #levi x y/n #levi smut #levi ackerman fanfiction #aot fandom

[221bshrlocked]

sweaty hands, reluctant hearts

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Fem!Reader

Words: 13685 (god this wasn’t supposed to be this long I’m actually sorry this time)

Warnings: Angst and Smut (my fav). Hurt/Jealous Mando -> Touch Starved/Rough Mando -> Fluffy Mando -> Shy Mando. Penetrative Sex. Oral Sex. There’s lot’s of sweat because exertion yall. Breeding Kink 😏. Slight Exhibitionism. Overstimulation and slight slight non-con because of oversensitivity. Umm, squirting 🙃. Dirty/Sweet talk. Spanking (ass and hoohaa).

Summary: He never thought the day would come when he’d hear you saying you wanted to leave him. Yes there was an understanding between the two of you that you were hired to help him care for the Child and to somehow keep the Razor Crest alive and working. And he knew it made sense for you to find work elsewhere now that the Razor Crest was destroyed and the Child was with his own kind. But he just assumed you weren’t going to leave considering it’s been a couple of months since he’d given the kid to the Jedi and you never brought it up. It hurt hearing you say those words, especially when he realized he wasn’t meant to hear them and that you were confiding in Cobb Vanth of all people. Turns out, all Mando needed was to see the Marshal eye-fucking you as you fixed the new ship and overshared your thoughts for him to snap and finally make a move. Hopefully he can change your mind...

A/N: Yall, this is post Season 2 so sadly Grogu is not here, hence the angst! Umm, this was a lot to handle because you know, that gif here. Enjoy ☺️

It’s been months since the events that transpired on the cruiser. Months since he’d given away a piece of himself to an unknown being. Months since he’d sat down and re-evaluated his life’s mission. He wasn’t sure why he’d chosen to return to Tatooine of all planets but he needed some time to think of his next steps. So much has changed over the course of the past year and it took the Mandalorian longer than usual to realize that he can’t use bounty hunting to fill the void in his heart. 

One thing he did know for sure, however, was that he couldn’t have managed to survive the emotional and physical changes without your presence. Somehow, you’ve managed to make his life easier and by a whole lot. He has never felt this grateful for having a companion, maker, didn’t even think it possible to ever consider another as such. He’d spent years and years living by the Creed and never once doubting his way of living, but he found himself questioning everything about himself when you came in. It wasn’t that he was suddenly open to the idea of taking his helmet off or anything, it was more of a passing thought on what it would be like if he were to open up to you more, perhaps even share with you more than his name and an abridged version of how he became a Mandalorian. 

He mulled over how he would approach the topic with you, finding himself growing more nervous when he considered how you’d react. You’ve never given him any inclination of ever thinking of him as more than your boss and he knew he needed to figure out a way to make this seem natural and not forced. Frankly, he found it interesting how you managed to read him better than anyone he’s ever met, and he wished he could ask you how you’d done so when he never took off his helmet. 

Mando pushed the thought aside for now, cursing to himself as he dragged the giant piece of scrap you’d requested for him to pick up from Peli. He wanted to argue with you then, tell you that the only reason for coming to this awfully hot planet was to take some time off, if that was even possible, and avoid falling into the temptation of another mission. But he couldn’t find it in himself to say any of these things, mostly because you were the one that managed to procure the new ship for him and you were also the one that told him the two of you were in serious need of rest. He’d only realized the ship needed fixing when he landed and you told him you would get right on as soon as he picked up the necessary pieces from Peli. He felt a little out of the loop when he’d gone to her and found her giving him everything you’d requested for, and he knew you must have contacted her before you landed or else she wouldn’t have been this quick. 

As he made his way through the quiet “streets” of Mos Pelgo, he thought back to what Peli said to him an hour ago. Had he not considered her as a friend, he would have responded rudely when she bugged him about you. As much as he wished to humor the idea that you looked at him as more than a colleague, partner, whatever it was the two of you were, he didn’t want to grow any more false hope, especially now that he’d already given up the one thing that managed to crawl into his heart. 

Mando saw that you’d moved the ship behind the cantina and he chose to blame the heat for the way his skin crawled with goosebumps because no, he didn’t suddenly feel calm at the thought of you. 

He shook his head from the intruding thought and was about to say something to you when he saw who was standing nearby. If there was ever a time where he didn’t wish to see Cobb Vanth, it was definitely now. The bounty hunter put down the scraps of metal before moving closer to where the two of you were standing. He was sheltered behind a shack of sorts and allowed his heart rate to return to normal before listening in on you. 

“I don’t believe you sweetheart.” The Marshal threw back his drink and shook his head when you shrugged your shoulders at him and Mando felt his stomach twist at the endearment. Since when were the two of you on such a close basis?

“Believe whatever you want Marshal, I was only answering your question. Besides, it’s not like I’m actively looking right now.” Mando watched as you swiped the sweat rolling down your face with the back of your hand and swore when he felt the fabric of his pants grow tighter around his crotch. He felt dirty watching your every move, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the way your muscles gleamed under the excruciating sun rays. He cursed the day you bought that garment and he recalled back to the first time he watched you work in it. Mando had almost tripped over the child that day because he never expected to see you walking around with the chest binding so visible to his eyes. It was worse when you reached up high for something because if his eyes lingered long enough, he could see your undergarment peeking from the low-hanging pants of the overalls. 

The bounty hunter had to take a few deep breaths to move on from the inappropriate thoughts he was having and he narrowed his eyes at Cobb when he saw him walk closer to you. 

“Are you ever going to tell him?” The Mandalorian watched as your expression shifted slowly to a more sombre look and he was familiar enough with you to know that you weren’t too happy with that question or the answer you were going to give Cobb. 

“I- I don’t know. I wish I could tell him about how I fe- what I’m thinking about but I can’t...and I also can’t just say ‘Hey Mando, I had a blast taking care of the kid and getting hunted by the kriffing Empire. I fixed the ship for you so see you later.’ It’s not right and I didn’t realize it would be this difficult to come to terms with what I have to do. But I can’t keep doing this, it’s not fair.” 

Whatever the Mandalorian thought you were going to say, that certainly didn’t make the top of the list. He almost fell back when he registered the meaning behind your words. You wanted to leave. You’ve been wanting to move on for a while and you weren’t sure how to tell him. You were confiding in Cobb Vanth of all people and relying on his opinion to decide what you were going to do. A thousand thoughts flew through his mind and he tried to see if he’d done anything wrong. Besides the whole thing with Gideon and Bo Katana, there wasn’t really anything he’d done that would inspire such a reaction from you. Not that those weren’t enough to change your mind about staying with him but it was all in the past now. 

The sound of laughter broke Mando out of his haze and he turned towards you again, watching as you slithered down the ship, clenching his fists tightly when he saw Cobb grab your hips to help you down. He was torn between strutting towards the two of you and punching the daylights out of him and remaining where he was to listen in on your conversation. He had no right to do either, but he needed to know.

“I hate to ask you this question because it defeats the whole purpose of this entire chat but...have you thought of how he’d take it? Should you decide on-” You pointed to something on the floor and Cobb leaned down to grab it for you, handing it and gauging your reaction to his question as you continued to work. 

“Why else do you think I’ve been putting this off? Of course I’ve thought of how he’d react. But I deserve more than...ugh, I don’t mind this, I swear I don’t, but I also can’t just sit back and pretend I don’t want more.” You motioned violently to the ship and to what you were doing as you spoke, shaking your head at the man smiling smugly in front of you before throwing out the tools and snatching his drink from him. 

Mando couldn’t stand to be near you, not after what he’d heard and certainly not after taking in your body language and the way Cobb was practically undressing you without shame. He stepped back, leaving the scraps where they were and heading to the cantina to take his mind off of what he’d just witnessed. He walked in and paid no mind to the patrons scattered across the room, handing the man behind the counter more credits than he cared to count and asking him for his strongest stuff. He didn’t bother to address the judgmental stare he was receiving and took hold of the bottle before walking out again. 

It was close to sunset and the Mandalorian walked until the edge of the town before deciding to continue until he reached a small hill filled with large boulders. Sliding down one of the rocks, he sighed deeply before taking off his helmet, the hissing sound instilling a sense of guilt deep in his chest. He was ashamed at feeling such an emotion towards what he based his entire life on. But he couldn’t take it anymore. His anger rose as he opened the large bottle in his hand, throwing it back until he felt the stinging drink burn his throat for a few seconds before aggressively setting it on the floor next to him. 

Mando wasn’t able to put what he was feeling into a proper string of thoughts but he did know it was an odd mixture of hurt and anger with a tiny bit of sexual frustration. He couldn’t get the image of you sweaty and heaving as you worked on his ship out of his mind, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back to meditate back on the way your muscles clenched and pulled every time you molded two metal scraps together or how they positively shined when you carried things across the sand. He’d tried his hardest to set all of these feelings and rather inappropriate thoughts aside but he couldn’t any longer. Not when there was a chance of you leaving him, and perhaps to someone like the Marshal too. 

Perhaps it was unwise to deny his heart’s desires for so long and Mando was sure that he’d met his breaking point because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Normally, he was able to distract himself and force his mind to stray away from conjuring up the filthiest images of you wreathing and crying beneath him as he drove his cock into your heat. But he had no hold over his mind at this moment, not that he was to blame. He went from shutting his own self out to opening the floodgates, and there was no going back. 

He sighed heavily when his thoughts shifted to what you said about him and he took a long sip from the bottle before turning his attention to the setting suns. He didn’t know what he could even say if you ever approached the topic with him. You’d been wanting to leave for a while now and somehow managed to hide it from him. All those nights spent running from Moff Gideon and other bounty hunters and you haven’t complained once, choosing to keep it to yourself. He wasn’t sure if he was hurt because you felt the need to hide something like this from him or because you were awfully understanding of how these complaints could distract him. 

And then there was the whole thing with the ship. He had assumed that the two of you sort of shared it now but it seemed that you never saw it as belonging to you but only to him. And you went out of your way to fix it now when you didn’t have to. Mando didn’t notice his tears until he licked his drying lips and tasted the saltiness across his mouth. He wiped his cheeks and laughed at himself. When had he become like this? First it was the child and now you. 

He wished he could take it all back, to have never met the kid or you. His life was simple and not complicated and now, now he was faced with the prospect of losing you as well. The bounty hunter dismissed the thought as quickly as it came because he knew deep down that it was better to have had the two of you in his life, even for a short while, than to have never known you. It wasn’t ideal but since when was his life ideal?

As the suns set beneath the sky, the Mandalorian looked down and saw that the bottle was still almost full. Not wanting to finish it now, because he might actually need it later when you decide to leave, Mando stood up and slowly made his way back into town. He needed to sleep, not to rest but to put a pause on his rather depressing thoughts if only for a little bit. When he saw the town come into view, he took a deep breath and put his helmet back on. 

The town was quieter than usual and the Mandalorian found himself going straight to the ship instead of joining the others. He’d spent the past few days enjoying his nights in the corner of the busy cantina, watching as you won one Sabacc game after another without breaking a sweat while everyone groaned in annoyance at how well you were kicking their asses. But he couldn’t trust himself tonight, not around you and certainly not around the Marshal. 

Trying not to bring too much attention to himself, Mando walked past the cantina towards the ship, already thinking of how relieved he’d be once he used the refresher. Going up the ramp, he was about to walk to the small, private room near the cockpit to grab a change of clothes when he heard a loud shriek that sounded a lot like his name coming from the opposite end of the ship. Mando quickly turned around and shut his eyes in exasperation when he saw you approaching him far angrier than he’d ever seen you. He set the bottle down and turned his attention towards you, raising an eyebrow to himself when he saw your chest heaving beneath the chest band. He averted his eyes quickly, refusing to think of you sweaty and breathless under other circumstances. Maker, he couldn’t go no like this.

“Where in the kriffing hell have you been? You were supposed to bring the parts from Peli hours ago and I have to find out from some kid that you just left them on the ground and walked away to- hell, I don’t even know what was more important for you than bringing me the scraps so I could fix the ship? Really, Mando, I understand that it’s been a little weird and difficult lately but I barely ask for anything and, ugh, maker.” You held back from voicing more of your thoughts, afraid that you’ve already gone far with asking him where he was. He didn’t really need to tell you what his business was but you’d assumed the two of you have come to an understanding regarding such matters, at the very least to ensure everyone’s safety. 

Mando stood there in silence and took a deep breath before turning around and walking into his room, afraid he’d give himself away if he tried to respond to you.

You furrowed your eyebrows in frustration when he quietly walked away from you, anger rising in your chest as he came out and made his way past you to the refresher. Before you could think twice of what you were doing, you were sprinting past him and standing in front of the open door, pushing your fingers into his beskar-clad chest as you hissed at him.

“I’m not sure what happened or why you’re giving me the silent treatment right now but this is not how we deal with our problems okay.” Mando took a few steps back as you continued to shove your finger into him, trying his hardest to not grab your wrist and push you against the nearest wall. “We talk things out and we come up with a way to fix things and compromise if need be.” Mando’s back hit the wall, and he threw his head back to avoid your gaze, unable to hold back the chuckle that rose from beneath the helmet at your words. 

How ironic.

“Did I say something funny?” You narrowed your eyes up at him and wished for once that he’d remove that god damn helmet so you could gauge his reaction.

“You mean we should talk things out like you and Cobb Vanth today? Or would it be different?” Mando’s chest tightened when he noticed the surprised expression on your face, knowing very well this was not what you expected to hear from him. He was a rational man, never once letting his mind give away to such simplistic thoughts but you’d struck a nerve and he could no longer hide his jealousy. Yes, it was jealousy. As much as he hated to admit it, that’s what he was feeling right now, what he’s been feeling all day long. It was childish and unlike him but it wasn’t going to do him any good if he continued to ignore it. 

“I’m dying to know if that’s what you mean. You obviously don’t have an issue telling him about how difficult it’s been working with me and how you can’t keep doing this.” It was your turn to take a few steps back when you saw his shoulders push out and make him taller than he already was. He continued to walk towards you, throwing his clothes to the ground and almost apologizing when you tripped on your feet when he was only a foot away from you.

“How about this, let’s start with what you apparently wish you could tell me but can’t seem to find the right words to do so. What was it you said to him? You deserve more than taking care of a kid and constantly escaping the Empire and other bounty hunters? Or wait, how can I forget...it’s not fair dealing with this mess of a ship and you’re looking for somewhere else to go?” You swallowed the lump in your throat as the Mandalorian repeated back the words you voiced perhaps a little too loudly earlier today, already feeling your eyes fill with unshed tears at harsh his tone. 

“I- I didn’t…you weren’t meant to-” You tripped over your words and almost flinched when he cut you off. 

“What? I wasn’t supposed to hear you say any of those things? A little strange don’t you think, since you seemed to have a lot to say about me to the Marshal.” Mando should have stopped himself from saying the next few words but his heart was torn into a million pieces and it wasn’t fair for him either.

“Well guess what, sweetheart, the Razor Crest blew up. Moff Gideon is taken care of and the Empire isn’t after us anymore. Every bounty hunter knows better than to so much as look at me and...and the kid isn’t around anymore for you to take care of. He’s gone, I lost him. So if you were worried about hurting me, you’re a little too late for that.” The Mandalorian barely held himself back from pulling you into his arms when he saw tears rolling down your cheek, clenching his fists tightly when he noticed the way you hugged yourself and frowned at him.

“Din-” It broke him to hear you use his name, especially now of all times. He hasn’t heard you say it once in the past few months, even when the two of you were alone. It was the twisting of the knife, and he bit his tongue to distract himself from saying something he couldn’t possibly take back.

“Do what you want, I won’t stand in the way. Besides, I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to help you out with whatever it was you were telling him today. After all, you deserve more right? Deserve someone more than me...someone who’s willing to share a lot more than his name.” Not bothering to wait for a response, Mando stepped away and walked back to his room, not caring about the clothes on the ground or how hurt you must have been feeling from listening to him. 

He softly shut the door behind him and moved to his bed, throwing himself on it and hanging his head low to catch his breath. This was not how he saw the night going, not remotely. He was hoping to ask you about this tomorrow in a less hostile manner and without making it seem like he was blaming you. But something about your words struck a nerve in him and he wasn’t able to hold back anymore, not when you were suggesting things you yourself weren’t willing to follow.

Din wasn’t sure how long he sat there in silence but the hissing sound of the door opening brought him back from his haze and he opened his eyes when he heard you walking towards him. You’d never once come into his room, not even when he occasionally gave you permission. You sniffed twice before approaching the bed and standing right in front of him and he was reminded of when the child would cry to try to catch his attention. 

“Din, it was never my intention to hurt you. I was trying to do the opposite..thought I was doing the right thing by thinking about this before I could talk to you but I’m realizing now that I’ve hurt you.” Din noticed the way you were ringing your fingers nervously and held himself back from taking your hands into his to try and put you at ease. 

“I- I only spoke with Cobb because he- because he noticed the way I was looking at you. He noticed how I can never seem to focus on anything or anyone else when you’re around. He- he could tell I was having a hard time coming to terms with how I feel about you...how I’ve felt about you for a while now.” Din’s heart skipped a beat at your confessions, unable to properly register what you were implying because he could never even humor the idea that you’d have feelings for him. He raised his head and finally looked at you, frowning when he saw how red your eyes were from crying. 

“The last thing I want to do is to leave you, please believe me. But I wasn’t sure if you even wanted me around after...after everything with Moff Gideon and the Jedi. As far as I knew, you brought me on to take care of Grogu and fix the Razor Crest. We’ve barely spoken ever since the cruiser and I just thought that I was only around because you couldn’t find the time to tell me that you don’t need me anymore.” Hearing you say that you thought he didn’t need you caught Din off guard and he wasn’t able to hold back anymore, instantly taking hold of your hands and pulling you towards him until you were standing in between his legs. You swallowed the lump in your throat and maintained your gaze on his visor, hoping that he could see how truthful you were being with him and maybe respond, if only with just a simple word. 

“When I said I deserved more, I was just- I swear I wasn’t talking about your Creed or wanting to see you. As much as I wish that was possible, I would never...could never ask you for something like that. I was only telling him that I might need some time away to maybe forget how...maker, to perhaps try and set aside my emotions because the last thing you need right now is for me to lay that on you. I don’t want you to think that you owe me anything because you don’t, gods you don’t owe anyone anything, not after what you’ve been through. But I could feel myself becoming more attached to you, especially after everything that happened on the cruiser. I want more with you but I don’t want to push you towards anything you’re not ready for.” Before you could wipe the tears away from your cheeks, Din was raising his glove-covered fingers and softly skimming them over your skin, and he hadn’t realized how harsh and loud his breathing was until he felt you rest your hand on his chest.

“There’s nothing between me and Cobb. And you should know by now that he’s...friendly, with everyone.” You smiled shyly at him before leaning into the hand resting on your cheek, nuzzling further into his palm when he swiped his thumb against your lower lip. There was so much Din wanted to say but he couldn’t find the right words that would convey what he was feeling. He was having a hard time wrapping his mind about your admission and the fact that you have been returning his affection for a while now. 

Din didn’t realize how long he was quiet until you cleared your throat and let go of his hand, stepping away from him and looking around to see if you should just leave. Before you could head to the door, however, Din was standing up and moving towards you, his eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort before he made his next move. Your chest was rising and falling a little quicker than he liked but he quickly realized it was probably because of how you were coming to terms with what you just said to him. 

You watched as he took his gloves off and set them on the small table behind you, suppressing a gasp when you felt his warm, calloused hands wrap around yours before bringing them to his helmet. He could tell you were letting him control all of your movements and found it difficult to accept just how much you were willing to give to him.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I have been thinking about this for a while.” Din smiled when he saw your eyebrows furrow in question at his words. “Taking this off.” He saw the moment you understood what he was saying, not expecting you to pull your hands away from him and taking a few steps back until your back was against the wall.

“That’s...that’s not what I- Din, I wasn’t lying when I said it wouldn’t matter to me if-” He smiled at how defensive you suddenly were and stepped towards you once more, and you found it annoying that he barely kept a foot between you two, his natural scent hitting you like a blaster to the gut. 

“I know.” Din cut you off before taking your hands into his once more, rubbing your knuckles to put you at ease as he continued. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about this and- it’s not that I’ll walk around without it now, far from it. It’ll only be when we’re alone, when no one is around.” He hoped you could read in between the lines because this would be the closest he’d come to admitting how important you were to him, for now at least.

“Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” 

That definitely snapped you out of your haze and you tilted your head to the side before asking home what he was referring to. 

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Din raised an eyebrow at your response. Have you already forgotten?

“On the cruiser, when I- before Grogu went with the Jedi.” His hands tightened around your fingers as he said the child’s name and you were momentarily distracted before realizing what he meant. 

“Din I...I never saw you.” 

For a split second, it felt like someone had taken Din and carbon froze him before throwing him on an ice planet. 

“What?” He held his breath, unable to move a muscle until he made sure he heard you correctly. 

“I never saw you. I turned around when you reached for your helmet. I didn’t...it was a moment with you and Grogu. It didn’t feel right to look at you.” You tried to maintain a semblance of control on your voice but it cracked a few times as you admitted to him. As much as you yearned to see him without the mask, you didn’t think it proper without his clear consent. 

Din’s sudden intake of breath made you nervous and you hated how for a moment, you wished you didn’t tell him because there was now a high probability that he wouldn’t take the mask off. 

“Cyar'ika, please.” you shivered at the low tone of his voice, finding it harder to focus on anything but the touch of his skin. Once again, Din slowly brought your hands to the sides of his visor, pushing the palm of your hands on the beskar and softly nodding at you. A sudden sense of relief washed over him when he saw the slight nod of your head. 

Din found it endearing how your whole face scrunched up in focus as the two of you slowly pulled the helmet off of his head, the soft hissing sound as it unlocked making your hands dampen with sweat. As you raised the visor along with him, you couldn’t help but shut your eyes as soon as you saw the skin of his chin. Unbeknownst to you, Din was watching your every reaction and felt a little nudge in his chest when he saw how tightly shut your eyes were. When the beskar was off completely, Din took it from your hands and placed it next to him, swallowing the lump in his throat when he turned back and saw you were still refusing to look at him.

He reluctantly took your hands into his and placed them on his chest, hoping that you’d finally open your eyes without him begging you again. 

“I’m sorry I- maker, this is..this is probably more intense for you than it is for me and I’m not making it any better with my nervousness and- okay. Okay.” You took a deep breath before allowing your eyes to flutter open, unable to exhale as soon as you laid your gaze on him. Din was probably unaware of how nervous he looked and it took you a few longer seconds to realize you needed to breathe again. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, the long nights where you imagined what he could look like fading into thin air because nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared you for what you were currency seeing. 

His features were somehow soft but a little rugged, and you found yourself committing every inch of his skin to memory, filling your mind’s eye with every minute facial expression so you could dream of him when you fall asleep. It was oddly not surprising at all that he had a stubble, the scattered dark and slightly graying hairs across his jaw and above his lips making him seem older than he probably was. And you weren’t sure if he knew he was furrowing his eyebrows and then you realized he most likely didn’t because he was so used to wearing his helmet that he never had to learn how to control his facial expressions around anyone. And it was endearing how his nose flared as he continued to breathe heavily under your gaze, and if it weren’t for the fact that this was a serious moment, you would have leaned over and kissed the curved bridge of his nose and the scrunch of his eyebrows to put him at ease. 

Din wasn’t sure what he thought your reaction would be and he felt his chest tighten with every long moment you spent without so much as a comment. 

You were unaware of how long this dreadful moment must have been for the Mandalorian and you continued to study him in hopes of finding answers to questions you’ve wished you could ask him ever since he hired you. There were heavy bags under his eyes and you wished you were more persistent with him when it came to his resting schedule but he always seemed to wave you off whenever you told him he needed to sleep. Though you knew this stress had to do more with Grogu no longer being here and less with how often he slept. You had half expected to find his gaze harsh and far off but when you did finally meet his eyes, you found them filled with unshed tears and a multitude of emotions that you knew would go unexplained until he had the strength to voice them. They were a deep and beautiful shade of brown, ones you knew you’d never be able to turn away from now that you’ve had a proper look at him. And you couldn’t help but notice how their color reminded you of a Nightbloomer just after you picked it from its roots. 

All of that, however, could not compare to when you finally let your eyes descend to his lips. They were a darker shade of pink, and you swore you saw them parting as soon as you looked at them. His lower lip was trembling and you wished more than anything to swipe your thumb against it if only to feel the soft skin melt at your touch. You wished that was as far as your mind had gone but the longer you looked at the curve of his mouth, the more you wished you could lean forward and mold your lips with his. It was even worse because you had a feeling that the stubble of his mustache would cause the softest of burns on your lips. 

Din could no longer take the loud silence enveloping the room and he swallowed nervously when he saw how focused you seemed to be on his lips. He had some idea of what you were probably thinking because he was thinking the exact same thing but he wasn’t sure if he should be the one to make the first move. This reluctance evaporated when he noticed the way your eyes instantly moved to his neck as the cartilage moved and returned to rest when he gulped, and he realized that you may have been having slightly more inappropriate thoughts than he originally thought.

He was about to voice his worries when he saw your hands move from his beskar-clad chest to his face and he couldn’t stop himself from looking down apprehensively at the digits moving closer to his skin. You misunderstood his nervousness for uncomfort and immediately ceased all movements, returning your focus on his eyes to look for any inclination as to what he wanted. 

“Can I- mhmm, may I touch you?” Your whispered question was too loud for the two of you and Din parted his lips to say something but noticed how dry his throat was and realized he couldn’t trust his own voice. Nodding slightly at your request, he waited with bated breath as your fingers rose to his face and found himself shaking with anticipation at the prospect of finally feeling your touch on the most intimate part of him. 

When you were only a few inches away from him, Din felt his heart thumping wildly at his chest and he immediately shut his eyes when he felt the feather-light touch of your fingers on his cheeks. The harsh yet shaky intake of breath almost made you lose control and you had to remind yourself that, besides Grogu, you were the only one to ever touch him so intimately and so softly since he was a child. As much as you wished to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer so you could lay as many kisses on his face as you could, you knew it would be too much for him and that he needed you to go slow with him. He was practically shattering under your attention and you hoped he would allow you to do this as many times as possible in the coming days. 

Din couldn’t put a name to what he was experiencing at the moment but he knew he didn’t want you to stop touching him, ever again. He decided that he’d spend every moment with you alone without his helmet and with yours hands skimming some part of him. The longer you kept your palms on his cheeks, the calmer his heart beat and it wasn’t until a few moments later that he realized his eyes were shut. As they slowly fluttered open, he was met with the most beautiful sight in the world: your own deep irises staring at your own thumb as it softly passed over his quivering lips. 

“You’re...beautiful.” 

It was a simple truth and you wished there was a more sincere word you could use to describe what he was to you, what he meant to you but your mind was overflowing with images of waking up next to him every day and kissing his eyes and cheeks and nose and lips and anywhere else you could reach. 

Din’s hold tightened around your waist and you watched as he leaned forward until there was barely an inch between the two of you. 

“Mesh'la, I would really like to kiss you.” The request barely passed his lips yet you were already standing up on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to his, finding them as soft and gentle as you imagined them to be. Din was afraid his heart would give out any moment now because nothing could have prepared him for the taste of you, let alone the boldness with which you were claiming him. He sighed into you, unintentionally parting his lips and pushing you harder into the wall when he felt your tongue sneak into his mouth and explore him. Din wasn’t sure what he should be doing but then you were moving your hands to the nape of his neck and tangling your fingers into his hair and he all but lost it. As you gently tugged on his hair, Din found himself mirroring your actions and before he knew it, the kiss was no longer innocent and sweet but hungry and needy. You sucked on his tongue and tilted your head to the side, wanting to commit every small detail to memory so when you shut your eyes at night, you’d kiss him in your dreams. 

Reluctantly, you pulled back for a second to allow the two of you to breathe but Din didn’t like that, chasing your mouth and molding his lips with yours once more to be certain that yes, this was happening, and that no, this was not a dream. You moaned into the kiss, finding his desperate need to claim your mouth again more of a turn on than you cared to admit. And then his hands were slipping inside your overalls and holding you against his chest, the warmth of him stretching down to where you wished you could feel him. 

This sudden intrusive thought and the harsh grasp of your hips snapped you out of your haze and you realized you should be slowing things down for his sake. Against your will, you gently pushed his chest away and tried to think of anything but the way he was heaving above you from the intensity of the kiss. When you looked at him and saw panic and hesitation etched on his face, you returned your hands to his cheeks again and lowered his head until it was resting against your own. 

“There’s nothing I want more than to feel every inch of your skin against mine right now...but- but I don’t want to push you to do something that- maker….that might be too much for you?” You pulled back and waited until he opened his eyes again before continuing. “I feel like you just made a dramatic decision by taking the helmet off in front of me and- and you’re probably feeling a multitude of emotions right now and I don’t want to make you think that I-” 

Din didn’t like what you were saying, frowning down at you as he grabbed the back of your neck and violently pulled you towards him again. You were surprised by the sudden shift of his touch, fisting your hands in his cowl as he devoured your lips once more, not really giving you a chance to say anything else. Biting your lower lip, Din abruptly ended the kiss and pressed his lips across your skin, nipping and licking at your jaw as he pulled your hair down until he had access to your neck. You gasped his name and felt his stubble scratch deliciously at your shoulder. As you moaned against the wall, Din couldn’t back anymore and bit down hard on your shoulder, smiling when he heard your breath hitch at his rough ministrations. 

“Din, oh gods, Din please.” You weren’t sure what you were asking of him exactly and you hoped he’d at the very least continue what he was doing. 

“Cyar'ika, I want to have you. I’ve spent many nights dreaming of your lips, your touch, y-your skin against mine as I-” Din hesitated and it wasn’t until you felt his fingers slipping beneath the chest band that you finally registered his voice. Fuck, how had you not notice it a second ago? You thought the vocoder was what altered it, made it deeper perhaps. But no, it only made it sound more intimidating. You weren’t sure what made you clench your thighs together, the way he spoke to you of his desires, or how strained and gruff his voice was as he whispered his secrets to you. You gulped loudly and hesitantly met his eyes, finding the soft brown irises barely visible, his dilated pupils letting you know what he was thinking. 

Licking your lips, you nodded at him and fell into a fit of giggles when he leaned down and picked you up as if you weighed nothing, quickly moving to his cot and laying you down on your back before moving away. You were about to ask him what he was doing when you saw his hands swiftly move through the beskar armor. For some reason, watching his hands expertly take off the cuirass and move to the beskar of his thighs made your heart skip a beat and you wouldn’t dare move a muscle, afraid to miss the show he was unintentionally putting on for you. So busy marveling at his deft fingers, you didn’t notice Din slowing his movements and looking at you, eyebrows raised in curiosity when he saw how hard you were breathing. 

You broke out of your trance when you saw he stopped moving, embarrassment washing over you when you realized Din had caught you shamelessly staring at him as he came closer to revealing to you more of his skin. You’d expected him to move on, or at least pretend he hadn’t just caught you licking your lips while staring at his fingers but no, it seemed that Din was very much enjoying the effect he had on you because his smile grew when he saw your eyes look past him, pretending to focus on something else behind him and not his hands. 

You never lost his attention though, and he maintained his eyes on you as he removed all of his armor and took his boots off. You tried to be a little more subtle but gave up when he leaned down over you and pushed you into his covers. You wanted to ask him why he was still dressed but bit back the inquiry, afraid he’d misunderstand and move away all together at your question. He captured your gaze and didn’t blink once as he slowly undid the buttons holding the overalls and you realized you would have preferred him to keep the helmet on because that meant you wouldn’t notice how passionate and direct his deep brown irises were. You’d expected him to be intense considering how touch-starved and lonely he was, but you never once thought he’d be this vigorous? Ardent? Maker, there wasn’t a single word that could describe the way he was looking at you right now.

Din kneeled at the foot of the bed, waiting until you finally noticed what he was doing and raising your hips before he pulled on the pants of the garment. He slipped your shoes off and finally removed the article of clothing that made his cheeks blush and pants tighten whenever you wore it. He would eventually tell you that this is how you came to him in his dreams almost every night, all spent and sweaty in that gods-forsaken fabric that gave him the perfect view of what you were wearing beneath. 

His focus shifted from your face down your damp skin and he breathed in deeply at the sight of your undergarment. Din almost choked on his breath when your legs parted for a moment, giving him a glimpse of the growing wet patch at the center of the flimsy material.

The Mandalorian wanted nothing more than to worship your body, kiss every part of you and whisper his devotion against your skin as he pleasured you over and over again. He’d spent countless nights imagining what he’d do to you if you were ever naked and willing in his arms and he was damned if he didn’t make sure you were thoroughly spent once he was done with you. He wanted to hear his name fall from your lips and he wanted to swallow your sighs and your moans as he sank into you all night long. And by the gods, he wanted to mark your neck and your arms and your waist, and nothing made him harder than picturing you doing the same to him, biting and nipping at his skin so he could wake up in the morning and watch the evidence of your lo- your touch on him. It didn’t matter that no one else would see those bruises but him and you. He just wanted you, in any way possible, sinking beneath his skin.

And then he heard his voice calling for you over the comm link just outside the room and something snapped deep in his chest. He looked up from you to the open door of his room and listened to the Marshal’s words. Your eyes widened in shock when you saw several emotions pass through Din’s eyes, the most prominent of which was anger, maybe hurt. Of all the times Cobb would ask you to join him for drinks, this was most definitely the worst of them. It didn’t help either that he was laughing over some inappropriate joke one of his friends was saying about your sabacc skills. It wouldn’t be the first time this happened and it certainly wouldn’t be the last but then Din was clenching his jaw tightly before looking down at you and you knew he wasn’t too happy. In fact, you had a pretty good idea which emotion won out and you hated how much it affected you, how wet you became as thoughts of the Mandalorian claiming you as his flooded your mind.

Before you could try and reason with him, attempt to tell him that it was just a game and that the Marshal’s friends were probably just teasing him, Din was standing up and stripping of his long-sleeve shirt, revealing his perfectly chiseled, bronze skin that had your mouth watering within moments. You noticed the few dozen scars littering his beautiful torso and wished you could kiss each one of them, the old ones and the fairly new ones, until they didn’t sting with pain. But Din had different plans for you and he didn’t give you a chance to question him as he took hold of both of your wrists and slammed them above your head. His hold was painful and it should have scared you how quickly his mood changed but you said nothing, looking into his dilated pupils as his nose flared and he growled at you.

“Keep yours hands there,” Din warns you with a piercing look and you gulp loudly before nodding at him in understanding. He removes his hand and kneels on the bed, eyes narrowing at you before they sought after your most private areas. He wasn’t sure where to begin. He’d given this much thought but now that he was here, he realized it was a more difficult decision than he anticipated. He’d longed to wrap his lips around those hardened peaks always teasing him through the chest band, lick them until you cried for him, perhaps begged him to stop because you were sensitive. But then he continued down the lines of your navel and found your parted legs much more inviting. 

Now that Din knew how you felt, there was no reason for him to feel jealous. But he couldn't stop himself, wanting to be certain that you knew as well as he who you belonged to. He hated himself for having such primitive thoughts about you. You were your own person that much was made clear early on. But he could hope at your words, couldn’t he? He could hope that you were now his, and that he was yours. Maker, he was always yours. He just couldn’t admit it to himself, his heart reluctant at opening up to another. 

Din was lost in thought longer than you liked and you moved your feet towards him, nudging his thigh in hopes of reassuring him that you were right here, in his bed, beneath him and at his mercy. Din’s eyes focused on your again and he looked down at the soft gesture, hands instantly grabbing at your ankles. You jumped at the sudden movement, trying your hardest not to whine at the painful grasp because somewhere deep inside of you, you wanted nothing more than to be marked by him. By his teeth, lips, fingers, any part of him. You didn’t care where you’d bear his touch, you just wanted to see it, touch it in the privacy of the refresher when he wasn’t around. 

Din saw the needy look you were throwing him and he knew that you were willing. Willing to go as far as he wanted, willing to completely submit your body and soul to him, willing to do whatever he wished of you.

Before your eyes could flutter closed, Din was pushing your legs wide open and falling in between them while maintaining his gaze on you. He almost smiled when your stomach shook at how feral he probably looked. Leaning forward, he closed his eyes as his mouth latched onto the wet patch forming on the soft fabric of your undergarment, moaning into your cunt as he savored the taste seeping through. You were surprised by the boldness of the action and wished for him to lick your skin instead. But there was something erotic about the desperation behind his actions, wanting to taste you so much that he didn’t care what he was licking. 

The thought was gone as soon as it appeared because you felt two fingers stretch beneath the waistband right before he ripped it off of your body, shoving the torn fabric in his nose and taking a long whiff of it before humming in approval. Your eyes widened in surprise at the filthiness of his action, hands shaking above you when he threw your panties expertly into his helmet. The thought of knowing that your scent could potentially stick to the inside of his helmet as he walked around twisted your insides and you whined shamelessly at him, wishing he could just take what he wanted. 

“Your sounds belong to me,” Din spoke with a commanding voice as he sank in between your thighs again, his tongue dragging across your folds so deliciously hard until he pulled away, leaving a trail of saliva behind. “Your arousal belongs to me,” his hands went to your thighs and he squeezed, knowing fully well there would be bruises dawning your beautiful, smooth body the following morning. Again, you fought to keep your eyes open, wanting to commit every second to memory but finding it difficult to focus on him and not the pleasure zapping down your back. “And I will be damned if this cunt,” Din let go of one of your thighs, pulling his tongue away from your core right before the palm of his hand landed a slap straight on your clit, “doesn’t belong to me either.” You cried out his name, legs shaking violently at the pain shooting through your clit. Din didn’t give you a moment to relax back down on the covers, spanking the outer folds of your pussy twice more consecutively before he replaced the harsh touch with his cooling tongue. Tears trailed down your cheeks as he fucked you with his tongue and lapped at you like you were the only source of water on this gods-forsaken planet. He rotated between soft, quick licks to long, harsh ones, occasionally sucking on your clit and grazing his teeth on the bundle of nerves until he was sure you were going crazy. 

“D-Din oh maker, please. Stop I- slow down.” His touches were far from gentle and the pleasure blurred into pain as you tried to reach that delicious peak you’ve longed for ever since you harbored feelings for the man above you. But he was making it difficult, his needy and erratic movements making it near impossible for you to dive into the lake of pleasure. You should have known that the Mandalorian was as intense in bed as he was in every other aspect of his life. You shut your thighs around his head, wanting to push him away as his teeth continued to graze against your wet folds and nip at the pulsating nub. 

“M-Mando...I can’t.” You couldn’t take it anymore, hands moving to his hair and fisting in the beautiful brown locks as you tried to push him away. As soon as Din felt the tight grasp on his hair, he snarled at you, pushing up on his knees and bending your body along with him until the only thing resting on the bed was your neck and your shoulders. You cried out for him, begging him to give you release but it only drove him mad with lust. His eyes locked on yours, daring you to look away from him as his fingers dug into your butt cheeks and pushed your cunt into his mouth. 

Din pulled away for a split second, biting your inner thighs to grab your attention.

“You will take what I give you ner Cyar’ika.” You saw a hint of darkness in his soulful brown eyes, and shivered at the mere implications of what he had in mind for you. Din sucked and licked at your folds like a crazed man, feeling your legs shaking on his shoulders. He pulled away for a second, and you had no time to beg him to be gentle as he slapped your heated core three times again, hissing when you shut your eyes and bucked against him, your juices drenching his face and chest, leaking down your back as he smiled before taking your cunt into his mouth one last time to prolong your pleasure. You were too busy trying to remain sane to realize what had just happened and Din slowly lowered you back onto the wet covers before letting go of you. You were panting beneath him, stomach fluttering from the force of your release and chest heaving as you tried to fill your lungs with air. 

When you opened your eyes and looked at Din, your eyes widened in horror when you saw his glistening skin, finally realizing what he'd just done to you. You flushed under the scrutiny of Din’s gaze, gasping as he wiped his mouth and jaw with the back of his hand as he looked down and chuckled at the wet spot beneath his knees. You quickly shut your legs and tried to crawl away from him but Din was faster, grabbing your ankle and pulling you back to him, the show of strength already making your cunt clench around nothing again.

“You do not run from me Ad’ika...nor hide from me ever again. I own your body, your skin, the cum still leaking out of this sweet cunt.” His words were filthy and you didn’t know how to react to this new possessiveness he was showing. He pushed open your thighs and fell in between him, bringing his chest flush against yours and kissing the breath out of you, not bothering to be gentle as his fingers twisted and pinched at your nipples. You clawed at his back, wanting more of him but not knowing if you would be able to take any more of what he was offering. 

He pulled away suddenly, his jaw clenching tightly as he took one look at the hands wrapped around his back. 

“Did I not tell you to not move your hands sweet girl?” He whispered against your lips, breathing in the air leaving your lungs as he pecked the corner of your mouth before flipping you over on your stomach. 

“I- I’m sorry...it was just t-too much and-” You couldn’t finish the rest of the sentence, screaming against the covers as you felt Din’s palm land on your ass. You looked back and saw him eyeing your reddening skin, looking up at you and smiling as he treated the other side with the same kindness. Four more times his hands smacked your ass and you were ashamed at how aroused his violent actions made you. When he snuck his fingers in between your thighs and swiped haphazardly at your folds, you moaned and bit into your wrist. 

“Filthy sweet girl,” Din whispered more to himself than you before he fisted his hand in your hair and pulled you flush to his chest, the slide of your dampened back against his sweaty chest bringing him more pleasure than he would have liked to admit because not a few hours ago, he was picturing your sweaty, glistening skin beneath him. And now that he had you here, he was going to make the best of it. 

“Mando, oh Mando-” As much as he loved hearing you scream his nickname in the throws of passion, he wished more to hear his given name fall from your lips. 

“My name...scream my name sweet girl. Let the stars know who pleasures you Cyare.” Din kissed your shoulder before biting into the sweaty flesh, the hand in your hair letting go right before wrapping softly around your throat and pressing you harder against him. Your hands twisted back to try and grab his hair but he immediately took your wrist and twisted it until it was behind you, between your back and his chest. 

“Ahh Din…” You wanted to beg him to allow you to touch him, tell him that you were yearning to touch him as much as he was in need of touching you. But you had a feeling that this wasn’t true, and that this was his way of being certain that you weren’t going to leave him. That you were his. 

If only he knew that you have already belonged to him. Long before tonight.

You felt each breath leave your lungs as Din tightened his grasp around your throat and you parted your lips to moan his name, only to feel his tongue shamelessly licking into your mouth. So distracted by the desperation in this kiss, you didn’t notice the fingers trailing down your chest and digging into your skin until the palm of his hand softly cupped one breast. Din teased you with feather light touches, flicking at one nipple before moving to the other and circling around it until it hardened. He continued to swallow your noises, sucking on your tongue to quiet you as he pinched your nipples. You twisted in his arms, wanting to reach for him again but knowing that he would probably pull your hand away. 

When Din pulled away to allow you to breathe, you panted and finally opened your eyes, not daring to look away as he kept you motionless with his gaze. Din watched as you tried to form a coherent thought, waiting until you parted your lips to speak to him before reaching down and cupping your quivering cunt as he broke the silence.

“This belongs to me,” your breath hitched when Din pressed the palm of his hand against you, not quite applying pressure on your clit but just enough to hold your focus. “Only I get to touch you, kiss you, watch you as you come undone in my arms.” You nodded briefly at him, continuing to hold eye contact as he began to increase his actions. “No one else will ever have you Cyar'ika. No one but me.” He slipped two fingers past your wet folds and rubbed against your walls, humming in approval when he felt you flutter around him the harder he shoved his fingers inside you. 

“I’m yours Din, y-yours. Whatever you want, oh gods please more...need more, Din you make me f-feel so good.” Din keened at your words, curling his hand until his palm was passing deliciously over your clit as his fingers picked up the pace. 

“That’s right sweet girl, you’re mine. Mine to fuck, mine to take whenever I want...mine to-” Din hesitated for a second, unable to voice his heart to you even though you’ve bared your soul for him. “Pal'vut at kar'taylir darasuum...kriffing gods you’re wet, so wet for me. Come on, cum for me again ner Cyare. Show me how good I make you feel. Show me how needy this little cunt is, fuck- I...can’t want to have you wrapped around my cock little one. Can’t wait to sink in this pussy, my sweet tight cunt, mark you with my seed, over and over again...fuck a load in you all night long till you can’t feel anything but my cum dripping down your thighs. Shit, I need you to cum, now!” Your mind became foggy with pleasure, unable to focus on anything but the words whispered into your ears as his thick fingers fucked into you. You grabbed the wrist of the hand wrapped around your throat, digging your nails into his skin as you came around his fingers. You almost fell forwards but Din held you flush against him, continuing to drive his digits into you and rub at your clit with this thumb until you were sobbing in his arms. 

“Beautiful,” Din kissed your shoulder as he slowly inched his hands away from you before laying you down slowly. His eyes took in the flushed, wet skin of your back, chuckling with pride when he saw your legs shaking as little sobs escaped your lips. Your breaths came in shallow and quick, and you tried to silence your whines by biting into your wrists but then you felt Din slide his hand back and forth on your back as he laid next to you and you shivered under his touch because from the way he was moving closer to you and touching you, there was no way he was done just yet. 

“You’re all I think about, every waking moment. It’s difficult to focus on anything else when you’re always in my mind Cyar'ika. I- I burn for you, for your lips to caress mine every moment, your eyes to never leave mine as I brand you, your skin against my own as you mark me with your touch. I- maker, I cannot think of a life without you here, with me…” Din thought he would have to force himself to say such things but he found it remarkably easy now that he had you here, responding so openly and shamelessly to him.

“Din,” you turned your head and shifted towards him, kissing the hand resting between the two of you before leaning your forehead against his and shutting your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here, for as long as you’ll have me.” Din ceased all movement at your words and he looked away from where he was stroking your back, meeting your eyes and furrowing his eyebrows before you felt him grab your arm and pull you on top of him. You surprised gasp died in your throat when you felt Din wrap his arms around your back and bring you against him until you could feel his chest hairs tickling your nipples. You could feel his cock jutting against your core through his pants and as you rested your hands on his chest and looked to him, you saw the frown ease from his expression, replaced with something akin to reverence. 

“I will have you until my dying breath Mesh’la. Let me show you how much I want you.” The force of his declaration hit you instantly and you pressed your lips against his just as you felt him rid himself of his pants. Din’s hands were roaming your back and you felt bolder with every caress, combing your fingers into his hair and pulling on it as he squeezed your ass and bucked into you. The growl emanating from his chest shot straight to your core and you raised yourself from him for a moment.

“Din, I want you. Crave to feel you inside me. Please, do it fast and don’t- don’t be gentle. Show me, show me how much you lo- want me.” Din’s heart skipped a beat at your words and he wasted no time, taking hold of his cock and teasing your clit with his leaking tip before slowly inching inside you. You shut your eyes and dug your nails into the back of his neck as he continued to sheath his dick deeper in your cunt. You could feel every ridge and pulsating vein dragging against your inner walls, finally allowing your lungs to breathe as you felt him nudge and twitch against that soft, spongy spot in your core. 

Neither of you moved for a few moments, with Din trying to wrap his mind around finally becoming one with you and feeling you clench so sweetly around him. He was torn between fucking up into you without mercy and taking it nice and slow until he pushed you over the edge again. But then you were gyrating your hips and sighing his name on his cheek and he knew what he wanted. 

Planting his feet on the damp covers, Din held you flush against him with one arm while resting his other hand on your thigh, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he snapped his hips up before sinking into you again. You let out a surprised sob and rested your forehead against his shoulder, whispering more pleas against his skin and begging him to move. 

The usually quiet man breathed the sweetest wishes in your ears, thrusting up into you with immense force that made you clench tighter around him. “Ni copad gar an te ca'nara Ad’ika, ni vercopa be gar anay ca. You have made a home for yourself inside my heart.” Din felt your shaky breath blow on his neck and it drove him mad with lust because he wanted to have you reacting to his touch so wantonly every minute of every day. His grip only tightened around you and he prayed you wouldn’t mind the bruises that would surely color your skin in the next few hours. He wasn’t planning on being gentle tonight, perhaps later, but not tonight, and he was going to ensure his touch would be visible for anyone that would speak with you tomorrow. Thoughts of the Marshal passed through his mind’s eye and he growled, pumping his cock into you harshly for some reassurance. You cried out his name over and over again, feeling your skin heat up at the declarations of love he was peppering on your skin because even though his words were gentle, his touches were far from it.

The squelching sounds of your cunt flooding Din’s thighs as he drove himself into you should have embarrassed you but you could tell he enjoyed knowing how wet you were for him from the way he continued to quicken the pace just to hear your juices flowing over him. His grip on you was becoming more painful the more you moved against each other but you couldn’t find it in yourself to let him know. He was letting go, showing you how much he wanted you, how hard he was for you, and you weren’t about to make him feel conscious over his affection.

“Maker...oh Din, Din I- you feel so good inside me. Filling me up like no one else. Could feel you so deep, gods, could feel you everywhere Din please- don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop, I need it. Need you, want you- want you to mark me, d-do whatever you want with me.” You had no hold over your own speech and weren’t sure if you were making any sense but Din moaned each time you praised him.

“Good girl, sweet girl...taking my cock so well, kriffing hell. Your- your pussy is squeezing the fuck out of me..could feel every tight inch of you stroking my cock Cyar’ika. Ah pfassk...you’re- you’re perfection.” Din moved the hand around your back up to your neck, pulling on your hair and pressing his lips with yours as his cock throbbed inside you. You whined as his tongue roughly swirled around your own, barely able to breathe as he continued to snap his hips against you and suddenly feeling a rush of relief as his navel rubbed at your clit until you came around him. Din broke the kiss, screaming expletives in his tongue as the force of your orgasm pushed his cock out of you. You shuddered as you gushed on his dick, wrapping your arms around his neck when he forced his cock into your tight cunt again. 

You were so overcome with emotions, so lost in Din’s scent mixing with your own, and his touch leaving bruises on your skin, that you didn’t notice the faint sounds of footsteps coming up the ramp and halting in the middle of the ship right in front of the door. But Din noticed, managing to look up just in time to see Cobb standing in the middle of the ship and staring with wide eyes at the scene unfolding in front of him. 

Something completely otherworldly took over the Mandalorian and he quickly sat up, expertly moving the two of you around until he was kneeling on the covers with you straddling his thighs. He smiled against your shoulder, allowing your hair to hide his face as he grabbed both of your hips and fucked up into you. 

He could vaguely see the Marshal and was surprised that he hadn't dropped the bottle of drink in his hand just yet. You wailed into the night air, arms keeping you stead in Din’s arms as he forced you on his pulsating dick over and over again. 

“Tell me...tell me Cyare, tell me how much you love it when I fuck you. How much you need my cock like the filthy little cockslut you are. Go on sweet girl, grind that little clit on me. Fucking tell me ner Ad’ika.” Din smacked your ass twice, chuckling when your moans grew more lewd with every touch he laid on you.

“I- I- ahhh love your cock...oh maker, no one fucks me like you. N-no one makes me c-cum like you. Fuck me harder D- ahhh,” Din bit down on your shoulder to prevent you from saying his name, looking through the mess of your hair and watching as his audience remained incapable of moving. 

“I own this pretty little pussy. Pffassk- ride me harder Mesh’la. You’re such a good girl, could feel your cunt drenching my thighs, the smell of you is driving me mad. Fuck- keep that pretty mouth open to me when I’m fucking you, let me hear you scream for me.”

“Please- please...fuck me harder, ruin my pussy. Gods- I..I’m so close please. Tell me you own me, tell me I’m you’re sweet girl. Please- I want to be good for you, want you to cum inside me Din...cum inside me. I need it, need you to fuck me like you own me and mark me, make me yours Mando. Cum in me, please-” 

“Ah fuck you’re my sweet little girl aren’t you? Wanting me to fuck a load in you, cum in you all night long and keep my seed in that tight cunt? That’s it sweetheart, I’m so fucking hard for you. Could feel you clenching around me...be a good girl and cum again ner kar'ta. Fuck, yes yes you feel so good wrapped around my cock Cyare you’re going to make me cum. Spill my seed in that tight, wet pussy, fill you up till you can taste it in your throat. Shit, and- and I’m going to keep fucking you sweet girl, till my cum is sliding down your thighs. My little fucktoy- come on, come on love, cum for me. Cum on me, drench me again. Mix your juices with me.” Din watched as Cobb finally had the mind to leave and he almost laughed at how the man almost tripped on his own foot as he sprinted out of the ship. He pushed you on your back and spread your thighs open, resting his weight on the arms around your head as he thrust in a few more times before he felt you clench around him. Leaning down, Din took a pert nipple in his mouth and sucked on it, growling into your skin as he came deep in your pussy, painting your walls with long strings of his seed until he couldn’t breathe. He’d never cum this hard before and was sure to tell you when you had the state of mind to pay him any semblance of attention.

Din continued to lazily push into you, your words from earlier replaying in his mind as he felt you quiver around his softening cock. You were still coming down from your high and twitched occasionally when you felt him throb inside you. There was a pleasant kind of warmth washing over you and you sighed happily when you realized he was still bucking against you to push his cum in your belly. 

“D-din...you’re filling me up so good. Feel so full ah- gah.” He laughed when your body shook, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you around until you were laying on his chest. You kissed his jaw and his neck, moaning in unison when you felt his dick rub against that sweet spot inside you. 

“That’s because I’ve never cum this hard sweet girl. You’ve milked me dry Cyare. Could feel you sucking my seed out of me.” He was amazed at your obvious embarrassment, wanting to tease you about it but choosing to wait for later instead.

Din rubbed at your back, kissing your forehead as he whispered sweet things in your ears and smiling when you nipped at his neck some more. 

“Promise me you’ll never leave.” Din’s quiet voice broke the silence and you pushed up to look into his eyes as you responded. “I’m not going anywhere, even if you tell me to go. I’ll stay here, always. I promise.” You kissed him gently and felt his pulse beneath your fingers calm at your words. 

Not much time has passed before Din had you on your knees in front of him, fucking your mouth and shoving you down on his cock until you gagged and his seed slipped from the corner of your mouth, mixing with your spit as it fell down your breasts. You lost count of how many times he brought you pleasure, and you made a mental note to ask him how he managed to fuck you all night long. You weren’t sure it was possible for a man to cum this many times over the course of one night but you had a feeling Din was not like anyone else. A man who has been touch starved for almost three decades must have had a lot of pent-up aggression that he needed to release. And you would gladly help him in any shape or form through that. 

And when he wasn’t pumping your cunt full of his cum, he was nuzzling into your neck and laying kisses across your arms, making sure he caressed every inch of your skin. You shouldn’t have been surprised that Din loved to snuggle with you but you did find it hilarious that such a big and scary Mandalorian whimpered when you licked down his neck as you nestled into his arms. You wouldn’t tell him just yet but besides his rough grasps and his filthy words, you loved to taste the saltiness of his skin and from the looks of it, the feelings were mutual because at some point in the night, he’d told you of all the times he had to lock himself up in the refresher and try his hardest to not think of your sweaty limbs entangling with his own as he kissed you.

By the time the two of you made it outside the following day, the twin suns had already been in the middle of the sky, scorching rays of heat on everyone across Mos Pelgo. You tried your hardest not to walk too funny, mostly because it made Din apologize every now and then, but it was difficult when you could still feel traces of his touch on you. You told him you needed him to stop making it obvious but realized he was apologizing out of regret not out of humor. It took you all of the afternoon to convince him that you were feeling more than okay and that you’d asked him for this. And when he didn’t seem to stop, you teased him and told him that you knew he secretly loved watching you wobble from side to side. 

This all, however, peaked when you walked into the cantina and tried to play Sabbac with Cobb Vanth and the others. You could tell that the Marshal was avoiding all conversation with you, going out of his way to pretend you weren’t even sitting on the table, let alone the room. You hoped that Mando hadn’t spoken with him or anything and decided to call it quits earlier in the night. When you did make it back to the ship and saw Din cleaning his weapons, you made sure the ship was secure before moving to sit on the bed across from him.

“Did you talk to Cobb today?” You gauged his reaction, already sensing that something was wrong when you saw him nervously clench his jaw before rubbing furiously at the beskar weapon.

“No, why do you ask?” Din wished he hadn’t already taken off his helmet because as soon as he responded, you knew he wasn’t telling you the whole truth.

“Din?”

He looked up at you and cleared his throat before speaking.

“He- he saw us...last night. I- I must have forgotten to raise the ramp and-” Din took a deep breath when you shot up from the cot and began to pace back and forth. 

“HE WHAT?”

“We were...I couldn’t- there wasn’t a chance I could…you felt too good around me Ad’ika I- I couldn’t stop. Not when you were clenching around me so tightly. Now when you were finally in my arms. I-” He stood up and walked towards you, taking your hands into his and kissing both of your wrists. You flushed at his words and looked up at him, only to find him blushing under your gaze. 

“You did it on purpose didn't you? You wanted him to see...to watch as you- as we...as I said-” Din didn’t let you finish the sentence, leaning down and molding his lips with yours as he walked you back to his bed. He pushed you down on the covers still holding your scents, his hold hardening the more you moaned against him. Before he could strip you of your clothes, you pushed him off and stuck out your finger in warning.

“Oh no you don’t. Go raise the ramp.”

“You’re giving me orders now Mesh’la?” Din raised an eyebrow at you as he got off of you and walked around the bed, halting at the doorstep to look back at you.

“Never…”

Translations:

Ad'ika - Little one

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Cyare - Beloved

Ner - my/mine

Pal'vut at kar'taylir darasuum - mine to love

Ni copad gar an te ca'nara - I want you all the time.

Ni vercopa be gar anay ca - I dream of you every night. 

Ner kar'ta - my heart

#The Mandalorian fanfiction #The Mandalorian x Reader #The Mandalorian smut #mando x reader #Mando smut #Mando fanfiction #Din Djarin x Reader #Din Djarin smut #Din Djarin fanfiction #The Mandalorian #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #star wars #star wars fanfiction #baby yoda #grogu

[lilith-jean-stark]

Secrets

Warnings: none!

Summary: You and Peter find out each other’s secrets by accident.

A/n: I’ll be setting up a blurb night soon! So stay tuned 😎

You got off the train and made your way to school. Another boring day at mid-town high. Being the sister of Tony Stark had its perks, but it also had its downsides. No one knew that you were Tony’s sister, but you had to admit that being the secret sister was nice because you didn't have people up in your face all the time, except Peter Parker. Peter Parker was the only one who knew your secret. You and Peter had been friends for years and up until a couple weeks ago he had no idea about your secret. You stupidly were doing work for Tony in your notebook while having lunch at school one day, when Peter happened to sit next to you.

*flashback*

"Ugh this formula isn't working." You thought to yourself. Maybe it was just this noisy cafeteria that was making it difficult to think.

"Hey whatcha doing?" Peter said sliding beside you on the bench. Peters eyes widened "Stark industries?" He said a bit too loudly.

"Peter shush!" You snapped and scurried to get your notes into your book bag.

"What are you doing with formulas from Stark industries?" Peter whispered.

"That's not what it is." You rolled your eyes, "silly Peter." You booped his nose with your index finger.

Peter blushed, "uhm yes y/n it is, uh," he stuttered then shook his head to break his gaze with you, "Yes it is, I have an internship, I've seen them."

"I can't say." You groaned, annoyed he didn't take the nose boop as bait to change the subject.

"Come on, it's not like I'd tell anyone." He whined.

"Okay fine, but you have to swear that you won't tell anyone." You said sticking your pinky out for the two of you to pinky swear.

"I swear." Peter said locking his pinky with yours.

You leaned in and whispered "Tony Stark is my older brother and I kinda own part of Stark industries."

"No way!" Peter looked at me in shock.

"Yes way, but it's not a big deal." You laughed and showed him a picture of you and Tony with your parents before they died.

"Wow, he's pretty cool, isn't he?" Peter said in awe.

"Maybe to you because of your internship, but as a brother he's kinda lame." You smirked and nudged Peter with your elbow, to let him know you were only joking.

*end flashback*

You smiled to yourself at how understanding Peter had been about keeping your identity from him. You stood at your locker and sorted the books you needed for class into your bag.

"Y/n!" You heard Peter shout from the other end of the hall.

You waved to him and he jogged down the hallway to you.

"How's it hanging Parker?" You asked as he leaned against the locker next to yours.

"You ready for that Chem test tomorrow?" He asked.

You rolled your eyes, you and Peter had known each other for years and he still forgets that you’re pretty much a genius.

"Sorry forgot we have a prodigy here." Peter put his hands up in defense. "Actually May has been asking about you, she wants you to come over for dinner tonight." He said, crossing his arms.

"Peter you didn't tell her did you?" You said in a hushed voice.

"What? No! She asked what you've been up to, because you know she hasn't seen you around in awhile. So I lied..." Peter trailed off and looked at you with hopeful eyes. "I said you had an internship at Stark industries too."

You laughed slightly, "I'll send Tony a text and let him know I won't be home for dinner.

"Sweet, you're not mad?" He asked.

"No peter I'm not mad. You're actually a genius for telling her that." You smiled at him for being so sweet and for protecting your secret. Even though you knew he was dying to tell Ned and pretty much anyone who would listen.

"Oh and Ned might be by later too. He's got this lego Death Star he wants to build." Peter said staring to get all giddy.

"Wait, didn't you two build that a couple months ago?" You raised an eyebrow curiously at him.

Peters face went red, "oh yea i meant he needed help with his homework." He said quickly and started off down the hall, "gotta go gonna be late for class."

You sighed and headed to class. You didn't think anything of Peters weird behavior, due to the fact that Peter was sometimes scatter brained.

Peter got to math class and sat next to Ned.

"You can't come over tonight." Peter whispered to him.

"Why not , the Death Star isn't going to build itself Peter."

"Y/n is coming over for supper and she thinks we already put it together. She'll get suspicious." Peter whisper yelled.

"Fine, but it wouldn't have to be rebuilt if someone didn't make me drop it." Ned rolled his eyes at him "And you haven't told her about you know what yet?"

"No I can't Ned." He mumbled.

Later after school peter went and did his usual spider man stuff. He was just about done and was heading home and then realized that he had forgot about you. He raced home and climbed into his room through the window. His bedroom door was already shut, so he dropped to the floor and took his mask off.

The door opened, "hey Peter, May said to make myself at home..." you started to say, your eyes focused on your phone.

Peter quickly pressed his suits release button and let it fall to the floor, then kicked it under his bed.

"She said I'd find you in..." You stopped short of yourself when you looked up from your phone, to see Peter standing there in front of you in his boxers. It was just like Ned all over again, Peter had thought to himself.

"Woah Sorry Parker." You put your hands up in defense and smirked, holding back laughter. You stood there staring at him and laughed, "I guess I should have knocked."

Peter blushed, "Aunt May, can you please stop letting people in my room without knocking!" He shouted.

"I'll go check out what May is up too and come back when your dressed." You said.

"No, its fine!" Peter said, grabbing a sweatshirt and pulling on pants.

"Why were you in your underwear anyway?" You asked.

"I was warm." He lied.

You shut the door and glared at Peter. "You better not be lying to me. You realize that I have access to the worlds largest data pool, if I want to know something, I’ll find out."

"Look Y/n, i am not lying." Peter almost couldn't get the words out. You frightened him sometimes, you were very confident and fierce, never caring what others thought of you.That and you were smarter than him and you were pretty much one of the most powerful people in America with being a stark. Even if Peter was a good liar, you could still tell whether he was lying or not and if looks could kill, you would be shooting daggers from your eyes.

Peter watched you as you tilted your head to look behind him. "So what's that?" You pointed to the underneath of his bed.

"Nothing, just stuff."

"Peter?" You pushed past him and grabbed his Spider-Man suit and pulled it out from under the bed.

"You just happen to have a bright red leotard?" You questioned and then spread it out before he could rip it out of her hands. "Peter!!!!" You gasped and dropped the suit, "That's spider mans suit, I built that!" You shot him a look, "wait are you Spider-Man?" You asked as your eyes grew wide with realization.

"Yes." Peter said annoyed and grabbed the suit, hiding it in his bookbag. Then he realized what you had said, his eyes widened "you built that?!"

You grabbed the bookbag and pulled the suit from it. "Yes I did, Tony asked me to do a suit for some spider guy. I didn't think he was talking about you!" You exclaimed and examined the suit. "What did he tell you about the suit?” You asked.

"Mr. Stark said he made it." Peter said nervously.

"God of course he did.” You rolled your eyes. “Anyway that's besides the point, you're Spider-Man and you've been using my tech to help you fight crime? Did Tony tell you about the formulas too!? Is that why you caught me in the cafeteria." You looked anxious and kept looking at the suit.

 "No, the formula I noticed was mine..." Peter looked down at his hands.

"Wait, the spider web goo, you made that?" You looked at him in disbelief.

"Yes I did, I gave the formula to Mr. Stark because he wanted to see if he could improve it. Then he told me to leave it how it was. I was confused when I saw you with it because Mr. Stark was the only person I told. So I figured you had to be working on Stark industries stuff if you had my web formula." Peter explained.

"Peter that's the coolest chemical reaction I've ever seen! I love playing with that stuff!" You said excitedly.

Peter blushed and you pulled him into a hug. “Let’s get out there before May starts getting suspicious.” You said almost as a hum, you were as happy as could be and even happier now that you and Peters secrets were out.

#peter parker oneshot #tom holland x female reader #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #mcu fanfiction #spiderman #peter parker x reader fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x y/n #tony stark #iron man #iron fam #anthony edward stark #tom holland x y/n

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

Ouija Board // Tate Langdon

request: none

prompts: none

warnings: use of a ouija board, murder, crying, scaring people

a/n: i just used random names for the friends, so sorry if that’s your name :)

“Come on y/n, don’t chicken out on us now!” Liz said, dragging you towards the house.

“It’ll be fun! I promise,” Dylan said, grabbing a large rock to break the doorknob.

You were stood in front of the infamous Murder House. And stupidly, you let your friends talk you into coming here and using a ouija board. You never really believed in ghosts or anything like that, but you were still scared nonetheless.

“There are easier ways to get in you know,” Liz said, rolling her eyes as Dylan smashed the rock against the doorknob, knocking it to the floor.

“Yeah but this is more fun.”

“Should we really be doing this? We could get in trouble for breaking in. I don’t think I could survive jail.”

“Oh my god y/n, we’ll be fine. And Dylan knows what he’s doing. Besides, don’t you wanna talk to ghosts?”

“Nope, not really.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun.”

“Ok, I got the door open!”

The two of you looked towards the door where Dylan was. The door was now open, and he had already walked inside. You felt your stomach drop, wanting nothing more than to get out of there. But Liz had other plans. She grabbed your arm and began to drag you inside.

With a sigh, you gave up on fighting and figured you might as well try to have fun. When you vented the house, an overwhelming smell of mold filled your senses. It was disgusting. There was sheets over the furniture, and leftover belongings scattered everywhere.

“That’s weird, there isn’t any dust here,” Dylan said as he swiped his finger along the mantle.

“Maybe there’s a maid ghost who has to spend eternity cleaning. That sounds like an awful afterlife,” Liz replied, laughing softly.

“Can we just get this over with already? I’m getting bad vibes from this place,” you said, feeling as if someone’s eyes were trained on you.

“That’s kinda the point. This is supposedly the most haunted building in the world. So many people have been brutally murdered. I would give anything to live here.”

“Dylan, you are really fucked up,” Liz said while laughing.

You rolled your eyes at your best friends, and followed them deeper into the house, until you arrived in front of a door.

“Here it is, the basement. I’ve read online, that most of the ghosts like to stay down there.”

“Let’s go!” Liz squealed, pushing the door open and speeding down the stairs.

Dylan followed her, leaving you alone at the top of the stairs. You sighed and started to walk down the steps. The. you heard a noise from behind you. You quickly turned around to see that the door was shut.

You brushed it off, thinking you must’ve bumped it, and continued down the stairs to find Dylan and Liz setting the ouija board up. You sat down beside them and tried to calm yourself, knowing it would all be over soon.

“Ok, place your fingers on the cup, and then we can talk to the ghosts.”

You and Liz did what Dylan said, placing your fingers on top of the glass placed in the middle of the bored.

“Is there anyone there?” Dylan asked.

Nothing happened for a second, but then the cup started to move. It dragged itself over to the ‘yes’ and then stopped.

“Oh my god,” you murmured, starting to feel fear come over you.

“What’s your name?” Liz asked the ghost.

The cup moved again, and began to spell out a name.

H-A-Y-D-E-N

“Y/n, ask them something!” Liz said smiling excitedly.

“Is there anything you want to tell us?” you asked, not really sure that you wanted an answer.

R-U-N

The lights in the basement flickered off leaving you guys in the darkness.

“I’m pretty sure that’s our cue to leave,” you said, beginning to stand up.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Liz said.

The three of you got up and ran towards the straits, trying to get out of the basement. Liz and Dylan made it out, but the door slammed in front of you before you could follow.

You pulled on the door knob but it wouldn’t budge. You started to pound on the door, screaming for Liz and Dylan, but they were too far away to here you.

“They can’t hear you. They already left,” a voice behind you said.

You turned around and stared into the darkness.

“Who are you?” you asked, feeling your voice quiver.

“Wow, you forgot me already? Ouch. I’m Hayden, remember? I told you to run, but I guess you didn’t wanna listen.”

You didn’t get the chance to say anything, before you felt yourself being shoved down the stairs. You tumbled down them, before landing on the concrete floor of the basement.

You carefully tried to pull yourself up, but you were immediately pushed back down again. The lights turned on and you screamed at what you saw before you. A monster like creature hovered above you, and the next thing you saw was black.

~

You slowly opened your eyes and sat up, feeling your conscious come back to you. You looked around, panicking, trying to remember where you were. Then it all came back to you. The basement. Murder House. Liz and Dylan. They left you.

You wanted to be angry, but you didn’t have the time. Right now, you just had to get out of here. You wanted to go home and be safe in your room. You took off running, heading up the stairs and out of the basement.

You ran toward the front door, pushing it open and heading towards the street. But then, you were back in the house. You ran out again, only to end up back inside once more. You tried over, and over to leave, but you couldn’t. You kept ending up back inside the house.

You gave up. You let your weight fall against a wall behind you, and slid down it, curling into a. ball sobbing. We’re you going crazy? What was happening to you? Why couldn’t you leave? Why can’t you remember anything after entering the basement?

Then you felt a presence beside you. A teenage boy, with wavy blond hair and dark brown eyes. He was beautiful. You might’ve been feeling butterflies, if not for the overwhelming sense of panic that currently filled you.

“Hey, I’m Tate,” he said smiling softly.

“Y/n,” you replied hesitantly.

“So, I bet you’re pretty confused right now.”

“How’d you know?”

“Well, I saw you running around, trying to leave.”

“Why can’t I?”

He fell silent for a moment, and locked away.

“Uhm, you’re dead.”

Your eyes widened and you immediately stood up and backed away from him.

“What? I’m not dead! My friends and I came here to talk to ghosts and now they’re gone and I can’t leave. But I’m not dead! That’s crazy!”

“Y/n, I saw you die. I moved your body,” he paused for a second before continuing,” Do you wanna see it?”

“Wait so let me get this straight. You just watched me get murdered and did nothing about it, you moved my body, and now you wanna show it to me? You’re crazy! None of this makes sense! I’m not dead! I can’t be dead! I think I would remember dying!”

“You can’t. No one can. I don’t remember my own death. I’ve only heard what people told me.”

“Oh really? You’re dead too? Fine, then tell me? How did you die?”

He went silent once more.

“I don’t wanna tell you.”

“See, I knew it! You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying, it’s just-, if I tell you, you’re going to be scared of me.”

You laughed once more, not believing a word that he was saying.

“I doubt that. If you really are dead, just tell me!”

“Fine! I was shot by the cops.”

Then it hit you. Shot by the cops. You remembered hearing about that when Dylan went on one of his rants about the house. Wait, Tate as in Tate Langdon? The guy who shot up your high school in the 90s?

“Do you believe me know?” he asked softly.

“Oh my god. You were that guy who shot up my high school like thirty years ago right? Wait, so you are telling the truth. But I, I can’t be dead. There’s so much I still wanted to do. I’ve never even fallen in love, I’ll never have a future. I’ll never get to do anything with my life.”

You started to sob again, realization washing over you. He wasn’t lying. You were dead. You were really dead. You felt a pair of arms wrap around you, and you looked up to find Tate hugging you.

Slowly you wrapped your arms around him, desperately searching for comfort. But that said comfort was soon gone when someone else started to speak.

“Aw, am I interrupting something?”

That voice. You’ve heard it before. Part of it came back to you. It was her. She pushed you down the stairs. You pulled away from Tate and glared at the girl.

“You! You killed me!” you yelled at her.

“No, no, no. I didn’t kill you. I just helped that creature down there do it.”

“Why? Why would you do that?”

“It was getting boring. I wanted someone new around here.”

“Go away Hayden,” Tate said, glaring at her.

“Ugh fine,” she said before disappearing.

“Well, I guess I’ll show you around?”

a few months later

It’s been a few months since you’ve died, and you’ve already adjusted to your new life. Things weren’t so bad. You were kinda friends with Violet, and you and Tate have been dating for a while.

Being dead didn’t really bother you anymore. You’ve started to see the bright side of it. No more getting sick. You didn’t have to take your finals. And you never had to see your so called “friends” who left you here to die.

At least that’s what you thought. You and Tate were sitting together in the basement when the door opened. You didn’t think much of it, until you heard a familiar voice.

“How do you even know she’s here?”

You gasped. It was Liz. And Dylan was walking right behind her. They were back. You were so angry at them for leaving you. They left you behind to die.

The two of them sat down next to you and Tate, setting up their ouija board. You looked at Tate and smirked. You were going to have fun with this.

“Is anyone there?” Dylan asked.

You walked over to them and pushed the cup to yes.

“Who are you?” Liz said, seeming a little more nervous than she was the last time she was here.

You moved the glass to spell out your name, laughing when you saw how scared the looked.

“Y/n, we’re so sorry! We thought you were behind us! And when we finally got outside, the door wouldn’t open,” Dylan said.

You moved the cup once more.

Y-O-U-L-E-F-T-M-E

“Y/n we’re sorry! No one believed us when we went to get help. Your parents thought you ran away. We tried! We really did!” Liz pleaded.

Y-O-U-D-I-D-N-T-E-V-E-N-C-O-M-E-B-A-C-K

“We were too scared. We’re so sorry. Y/n, please.”

You and Tate laughed at their pleas. You weren’t going to forgive them. You couldn’t. Not after what they did to you.

“Go mess with the lights!” you asked Tate.

He nodded and ran over to the light switch, flicking it on and off.

“Dylan, maybe we should get out of here!”

L-E-A-V-I-N-G-S-O-S-O-O-N-?

“No we’re not! Liz, come on we have to talk to her.”

“I don’t know Dylan, they seem angry.”

You decided to let them hear you. You kept yourself hidden, but let your voice be heard.

“Angry? Why would I be angry? It’s not like the only people I’ve ever trusted forced me to come when I said I didn’t want to and them left me to die. Oh wait? That did happen.”

When you finished speaking, Tate left the lights off. The door opened at the top of the stairs, and Dylan and Liz ran. They left the board and left the basement, heading for the open front door. Before they could get out, Tate slammed it shut. They both screamed.

“Aw, you’re leaving already?” you asked, before laughing.

Then you let them see you. You appeared in front of the door, and you made your wounds visible too.

They gasped when they saw you. Covered in scratches and dripping blood. Clothes torn to shreds. Bruises littering you.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry,” Liz said stepping closer to you.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m sorry,” Dylan said to you.

You didn’t say anything you only glared at them. Then Tate appeared beside you.

“You two should leave before you’re not able to anymore.”

Then you and Tate disappeared and opened the door, allowing them to run out, before slamming it shut once more.

As soon as they were gone, you both burst out laughing. Sure you’ve scared people who’ve tried to buy the house before, but this was the best reaction you’ve ever gotten. They were terrified.

“So do you finally feel like you got your revenge?” Tate asked, smiling brightly at you.

“Yeah, thanks for helping me,” you said, pulling him into a tight hug.

“You don’t have to thank me. I’d do anything for you.”

~

Taglist: @ahsxual @darlingkitt @1800-fuckbitchesgetmoney @horrorgirlx @jamespotterslover

#american horror story #american horror story imagine #american horror story murder house #american horror story x reader #american horror story oneshot #ahsfx #ahs murder house #murder house #tate langdon oneshot #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon imagine #tate langdon #evan peters #evan peters oneshot #evan peters imagine #evan peters x reader #imagine #imagines #oneshot #x reader #ahs imagine #ahs oneshot #ahs x reader #murder house imagine #murder house x reader #murder house oneshot #ouija board #ahs murder house imagine #ahs murder house x reader #ahs murder house oneshot

[celamoon]

are requests open? because imagine saiki with a dumb childhood friend (to lovers? 👀) who's just a little too naive. she's caught him using his powers before and just went oh, and he's pretty sure her brain didn't even process what he was doing. and she attracts so many boys but she's just clueless so now saiki has to shoo them away from her <3

Anon your brain is astronomically huge I’m in love with this concept.

To clear things up though I do take requests (suggestions) but I won’t always write them since some make me go bRR and others don't really speak to me so it depends on what it is. (also because I'm not technically a writing blog pfft)

You wrote the reader as a she so I’m going to use female pronouns for this one. I hope I did your request justice!

Warnings: none, just fluff

Saiki was absolutely terrified when you first walked in on him using his powers in second grade. I mean it wasn’t like Akechi didn’t figure it out, but you straight up walked in on Saiki while he blew the classroom to pieces. He was about to erase your memory of the incident before you had tilted your head cutely with a pout. 

“Did someone break in?” You rushed off to grab the first aid kit to try and help the others.

Kusuo read your thoughts to see if you suspected that he was a psychic and the only thing he got from your thoughts were 'oh, I guess Akechi was right in some way'

Saiki had watched you put a bandaid on the wounds and secretly helped you heal the others. No one believed you when you said the classroom was blown up the next day, I mean it was like someone reversed time on it! Nothing was scattered or anything else of the sort!

Saiki also transferred away that time. You were kinda sad, you wanted to befriend the kid who was standing in the middle of the room after the supposedly ‘break in’.  You were pleased when you moved shortly after with your parent’s job. So you ended up at Saiki’s school again.

That was a while ago though, both of you have grown by now. You had followed Saiki around each time he moved, you were convinced that was the universe telling you to become best friends with him. (It wasn’t, you’d later on find out that Saiki had used mind control so you could follow each school he went to).

“Kuu!” Saiki looks away from the passing car and nods at you. 

Both of you were in your second year of high school now. Saiki hadn’t changed much other than the glasses and growth spurt. You on the other hand? You had grown impressively. You were prettier, taller, and for some odd reason the universe blessed you with an ideal body. This meant trouble.

“Did you wait long?” You close the gate to your place as Saiki shook his head.

‘Same as always,’

“Ah, alright then,” You hum. “Anything new happen?”

‘I literally saw you less than ten hours ago Y/n.’

“So? Lots of things can happen in ten hours! For all we know you could’ve travelled to Kyoto and back!” You grinned. Saiki glared your way before continuing to walk.

“You’re so boring now Kuu-chan,” You grumble. Saiki chooses to ignore your words as he watches Nendou and the others join the two of you. Soon enough, you guys are at school.

“Ah, another letter,” You slip out your shoes to change into and set the letter into your bookbag. You head over to your desk and pull it out from the bag.

“Who is it from this time?” Kaidou looks at the letter on the desk and you hum.

“I think… ah it says someone wants to meet up with me on the rooftop,” you read.

‘Good grief, I thought you made it clear that you weren’t interested last time’ Saiki peers over your shoulder, caging you in, and you jump slightly.

“I mean it wouldn’t hurt actually going…”

“Y/n’s getting a boyfriend?” Yumehara joins your group at the shoe lockers and you shake your head.

“Someone wrote me a letter saying they want to meet up,” You show her the letter and the girl inwardly sighs. ‘How come Y/n-chan was able to pull people so easily and I couldn’t even find a good boy to date!’

‘That’s because you’re too obsessive’ Saiki reminds inwardly.

“You’re going?”

“Don’t worry! I, the jet black wings, can accompany you to meet up with whoever this is!” Kaidou offers.

“I’ll come with Nendou if you don’t want anything creepy to happen,” Kuboyasu smiles.

“A-ah it’s alright! I’ll just bring Kuu with me,” You smile.

“You sure?” 

“Mhm!” You grin. “I’ll be fine with Kuu,”

Speaking honestly, you’re quite nervous. You had gotten letters before, but none of them actually asked you to meet up. Most of them could be read, and then Saiki would offer you to toss them out in some way. Your favourite was when he used his pyrokinesis to burn it in his hand, he was always helping you reject people.

“Offu,”

“Good morning Teruhashi offu!” 

“Good morning everyone!” Teruhashi smiles, flowers bloomed in the room because of that.

“Good morning Teruhashi-san!” You grinned as she walked over. 

“Good morning Y/n-chan! Oh is that a letter?” Teruhashi notices the envelope in your hands. ‘Why did she get a letter? Is she being confessed to? Ugh! No calm down Teruhashi, you’re a pretty perfect girl. You don’t need to be jealous, it’s just one letter’

“Yeah… It tells me to meet up with them at the roof,” You mumble. “Teruhashi-san how do you turn people down?”

“A-ah?”

“You’re always being confessed to right? How do you do it?” Your eyes glimmer and Saiki grimaces. Out of all the people you admire, you decide to admire Teruhashi. It wasn’t like she was rude, but it was more like she was fake.

“A-ah well…” Teruhashi panics inwardly as she looks for an answer. ‘I mean none of these high school boys can match up to me. Sure Saiki-san makes me feel different but seriously he doesn’t even have an income of 40 million yen… what do I tell her?!’

“It’s ok if you’re not too sure either Teruhashi-san,” You smile. “Sometimes we reject people so naturally that we don’t even realize it,”

“A-ah yea… sorry it’s just I don’t get confessed to that much…”

“Ah right!” You grin. “You’re better than everyone here so it would make sense that no one dares to approach you!”

“H-hUH? That’s not true!” Teruhashi flushes red at your compliment and you smile.

The rest of the school day passes as usual, and soon the final bell rings. You pack your bags and wander to the roof to meet up with the supposed secret admirer. Saiki walks beside you, ready to kill someone if you asked. 

“Uh you can stay here, I’ll call you if he tries anything,” You open the door to the roof and Saiki is forced to use clairvoyance on you.

“H-Hi! Y/n-san, uh I’m Hito-kun from class 2… will you go out with me?” The boy bows and you’re thrown off guard.

“Ah, Hito-kun there’s a bit of an issue, uh I already have a crush on someone…” You half lie. Sure you thought Saiki was cute, but he was off limits since you know, best friend things.

“A-ah? Is it Saiki-san? I’m sorry! I thought you thought of him as a friend so I took the chance-“

“I-It’s ok! Kuu’s my best friend, it’s just I’m suspicious that he’s aromatic so uh-“ Saiki slams the door to the roof open and you panic. You forgot he was there. The boy who was previously confessing to you flushes red and rushes off with an apology.

“Kuu! I- uh, you heard nothing…?”

‘Y/n.’

“I know you aren’t interested in me or anything but like feelings work like that you know? Ugh I just ruined our friendship didn’t I…” You shrink onto the floor and Saiki walks up to you, crouching down to meet you eye to eye.

‘Y/n.’

“What…” you mumble.

‘I… I’m not too sure what I feel around you, but I think I like you too,’

“Nice joke Kusuo, sure made me feel so much better,” you grumble, looking away. “I may be dumb but I’m not that dumb,”

‘I’m not joking,’ Saiki forces you to meet his gaze. “I like you too.”

You pause when he actually speaks. 

‘Did I kill you?’

“Kuu you can’t just say that and not expect me to break down!” You shove your face into your knees and Saiki smiles.

‘I’ll keep reminding you until you’re convinced, and I’ll take care of you until you know.’

“Then I’ll stick by you until this endless loop ends,” You smile, holding up your pinky.

You two sealed a promise that day.

#saiki k x reader #saiki x reader #saiki k #saiki kusuo #kusuo saiki #tdlosk #the disastrous life of saiki k #saiki no psi nan #was it second grade? third grade? I don't remember #someone correct me if I'm wrong pfft #kusuo x reader

[hangovercurse]

The GQ Couples Quiz

You, a famous actress, and your boyfriend, MGK, do an interview about your relationship for GQ.

Request: “Can I get a Colson Baker imagine where you do the couple interview for buzzfeed please”

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: I changed it to the GQ interview because I couldn’t find the one for Buzzfeed, sorry!

Word Count: 2480

“Hey guys I’m MGK”

“And I’m Y/S/N”

“And this is the GQ couples quiz.” You both said at the same time before busting out in laughter at the corniness.

“I think you know way more about me than I know about you.” Colson said, a nervous look on his face.

You giggled, “I think I know some stuff that could get you into trouble.”

The producers behind the cameras laughed at that. “Okay, I’ll go first.” Colson picked up the cards in his hand. “What is my full name?”

You smiled, “Starting off with the heavy stuff here, guys.” You said, looking behind the cameras with a laugh. “Your full name is Richard Colson Baker.” Colson made a face at the use of his first name which made you giggle.

“Yeah, but if anyone calls me Richard or Richie,” he pointed straight into the camera, “I will come for you.” You giggled at his silliness, looking at your own card which held the same question.

“Okay, what is my full name?” You looked up at him, “If you get this wrong, I will walk out of here.”

His eyes went wide, “I think I know my own girlfriend’s name Ms. Y/F/N.” You giggled, nodding in approval, and letting him continue. “Where was I born?”

You rolled your eyes, “Houston, Texas. Easy. Where was I born?”

“Y/B/T” He said with a grin, flipping to the next card.

“What is my secret talent?”

“You say this is your secret talent, but you talk about it all the time so I don’t know if it counts.” You said, “but you can juggle.”

He nods, “That’s the only talent I have so it counts.” You giggled, shaking your head. “Yours is that you can balance shit on your head, right? Like cups and plates and shit.”

You nodded, “together we make a whole circus act.”

You both laughed, his entire body moving as he did. Eventually, he calmed down and looked at the next card. “I’m gonna look like such a shitty boyfriend.” You laughed, waiting for him to read the question, “What’s my favorite meal?”

You laughed harder, “you don’t know my favorite meal?”

He threw his head back, “I know what you eat a lot but like, I couldn’t tell you what is specifically your favorite meal.”

You giggled, “yours is Soul food. Like chicken and mac n cheese and all that.”

He nodded, “I was gonna say chicken wings, but you’re right.”

“Every time we go to Cleveland you drag me to that one place and you get so excited about it.” You told him and he smiled. “Do I wanna ask you what mine is?”

“Dude, you are gonna make me look so bad.” He shook his head, but tried anyways, “I mean, I know you like making breakfast with me and Case, but I don’t know if that’s your favorite meal or not.”

You grinned widely, excited that he got it right. “No, you’re so right. Like, it’s not the best food,” he pouted, “but the fact that we all make it together is really cute.”

He blushed, reading the next card. “What is my favorite song to sing around the house?” He started laughing in the middle of the question, making you laugh with him.

“Oh my god, what doesn’t he sing around the house?” You said to the crew behind the screen. Slim and Baze were standing to the side, laughing with you. “I guess normally its whatever he’s working on. Like I swear, no one is more obsessed with his music than he is.”

His cheeks were red and he buried his face behind his cards. “I’d like to disagree but I really don’t have a favorite song to sing around the house. It’s just kind of whatever’s in my head.’

“So, then I still get the point, right?”

“I guess you still get the point.” He sighed.

“Okay this one is different for me, what is my favorite song to dance to?” You asked, grinning slyly at him.

He rolled his eyes, “if you play anything by 24kGoldn, she will be dancing to it. If you play anything I’ve come out with, she skips it.”

You gaped, “I do not skip it you ass! You just don’t make good dancing music. There’s nothing wrong with that, I just can’t dance and cry at the same time.” By the end of your statement, you were both laughing like little kids. “But Goldn, he makes some dance-worthy music.”

Colson shook his head but continued. “What was the name of the first song I ever released and my first album?”

“Lace up.” You announced, making the x symbol with your hands. Colson nodded, smiling at you fondly. “Uh, your first song was…” you trailed off, thinking. “It wasn’t Wild Boy, was it?”

He shook his head, “nope, earlier than that. It was never on an official album.”

Your eyes shot open in realization, “Oh! Alice in Wonderland!” You shouted and he nodded, smiling proudly.

“I swear to God I look so bad right now.” He complained.

You chuckled, shaking your head, “We’ve gotten the same number of questions right! I wouldn’t have gotten that if you hadn’t told me it wasn’t on an album.” He let out a sigh but you continued, “what was the first piece of film I ever appeared in?”

You could tell he was thinking, “like commercials and stuff count?” You nodded, “you were in that Febreze commercial when you were like, 12, weren’t you?”

You laughed really loud, your head going back and your eyes shutting. “I hate that you know that.” Colson pumped his fists in the air, celebrating his correct answer.

“If you were to ask like your first actual like movie, it was Nerve, cause that’s how we met.” He said, a wide grin on his face. You nodded, matching his energy. He looked at the card, his eyes going soft. “Okay this one’s cute, when was our first date and what did we do?”

You giggled, remembering the long path to your relationship. “Our first actual date was on April 23rd, 2019. We went to a little drive-in movie and you borrowed Baze’s truck and we sat in the bed and uh… let me just say we didn’t do much watching.” The crew members started laughing with you, so much that you had to take a few seconds of a break.

“We’ll cut the break out, don’t worry.” The assistant director said. Colson’s face was red, trying to hide his laugh as you went back to the video.

You cleared your throat, “when was our first kiss?”

He chuckled, “It was not that night, funnily enough.” You both giggled, hiding your face in embarrassment. “Our first kiss was the night before. It was my birthday and we were in this huge house and there were a ton of people around and I realized that you were the only person I actually wanted to be with at that moment in time. So, we snuck out to the backyard with a bottle of something and spent the rest of the night getting drunk with each other. And at some point, I kissed you.” You smiled, the memory of that night coming back to you. “And then I asked you on said first date.”

There were a few scattered “awes” from the production team, which you laughed off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, it was cute, next question.”

He shook his head at you but read the next question, “Ugh, these are all so cheesy. When did I first say I loved you?”

You chuckled, “You were on tour and I hadn’t seen you in like two months except on the phone. So, when you got back, you took me and Casie out for lunch and then we went to this skate park. I remember I was teaching Casie how to skate and you just kind of blurted it out. And Casie and I both looked at you like “what the fuck did you just say?” and you got really embarrassed about it and then Casie said “finally!” like she had been waiting for it.”

You were a giggling mess, happiness flooding your body as you remembered the moment. “No,” he started, “you don’t understand. Casie figured it out like weeks before me. We were talking on the phone, and this kid, my nine-year-old daughter, started teasing me about how nervous I was to tell you.”

Your grin widened. “I swear Casie would’ve killed me if I hadn’t told you that day.”

“I will have to thank Casie at some point.” You said as you flipped to the next question. “What is my favorite movie and TV show? You gotta get them both right.”

He put his head in his hands, letting out a sigh. “I know your favorite movie is Nerve for obvious reasons,” he motioned up and down his body, “however, I know you’ve seen The Dirt about a hundred times, so.” He pointed his head at you and you rolled your eyes.

“He’s so egotistical.” You said to the camera. “But you’re right, Nerve is my favorite movie not only because its how we met but also because it was the first movie I was ever in. But if you were to ask my favorite movie that I’m not in, it would be The Dirt. You get 2 points for that one.”

Colson nodded, “hell yeah. Okay, what do I consider my biggest career accomplishment?”

Your eyes went wide as you realized you didn’t know the answer. “I could say like three or four different things right now.” You whined, looking to him for help. “When Miocic started coming out to your song, when you recorded with Crue, when Cena started using your song. You’ve done so much shit.”

He chuckled, “yeah but what’s the most important one, like to me?”

You tilted your head, “Was it when you performed on New Year’s?” You asked, feeling slightly embarrassed.

He laughed, “you’re a goddamn mind reader, I swear.” You smiled, sighing in relief, “yeah, it wasn’t like the biggest thing but it was the most important to me.”

You smiled, “we’re just on the same wavelength.” He rolled his eyes at your goofiness. “Okay, okay. How do you know when I’m mad at you?”

He chuckled, looking down at his hands, “if its something I did and we’re like, in public, you just won’t talk to me and like you won’t let me touch you.” He turned to the camera and the rest of the room, “like we are both very touchy people, so if she stops holding my hand or something, I know I fucked up.”

You giggled, nodding in agreement, “but if I really mess up, she’ll let me know.”

“We’re very big on communication.” You smiled, both of you stifling laughter at the many memories of you arguing over stupid things. “But it’s why this works, y’know?” You said to the camera.

“You should get this one, what’s my biggest fear?” He asked, the room falling silent.

You turned to look at him, a soft smile on your face. “Losing Casie.” You said, “or me, but mostly Casie.” You both knew how much he loved Casie. It was what attracted you to him so much in the first place. And since you’d known him, Casie had become equally important in your life.

He nodded, “yeah. I’ve had, like, actual nightmares about it. Scariest shit.”

You let the answer linger in the air for a second before pulling out the last card. “Okay, last question. When did we first meet and when did you first realize you liked me?” You grinned up at him and he blushed.

“First day we met was the day of the Nerve read through and we hit it off immediately. But I realized I “liked” you,” he used air quotes when he said the word liked, “when you did that ladder scene. I remember thinking like, “damn, that girl is fucking metal.””

You laughed, “I was so terrified but I was trying to keep calm because I wanted you to think I was cool.” You squeezed your eyes shut, “I was freaking out.”

Colson laughed with you, pausing to catch his breath, “but the first time I realized I loved you was when I was on tour. Normally I called you before I went out after the show, but this one night I was really burnt out and the only thing I wanted to do was to sit on the bus and facetime you. And even though I was like four hours behind you and it was like 5 am where you were, you stayed up with me and we just talked for a while. And then you fell asleep without hanging up and I couldn’t bring myself to hang up. So, I just, as creepy as this shit sounds, I just watched you sleep. And I had that thought of like, I could do this every night and not get bored of it. And that’s when I realized that I loved you.”

The look on your face explained your emotions perfectly, and it was something the internet talked about for a while after the video was released. Colson blushed, “now you gotta say when you first realized you liked me so I don’t look like a little bitch.”

You laughed loudly, body shaking. “Ok, first time I realized I liked you was when you brought Casie to set. Like, the way you acted with her and everything was so sweet. Like I was already attracted to you but that was the point where I was like, woah.” You made wide eyes to prove your point. “I realized I loved you the same facetime call. I hate being woken up and I was really mad when my phone rang. But then I saw it was you and my heart literally did a little backflip. The next morning, I woke up to the call still going and you were asleep on the other end and I realized that I would never answer a facetime call at 5 am for anyone else.”

He smiled fondly at you, “we’re so in sync.” You giggled, agreeing.

“Okay, that was our really cheesy GQ couple’s quiz. Thank you guys so much for watching. Stream Daywalker by MGK and Corpse.” You said to the camera.

“And go see Y/N’s new movie out on Netflix!” Your boyfriend said giving a thumbs up to the camera.

The director gave you the signal to cut and you let out a sigh of relief, looking over to Colson, who was already looking at you. “I love you.” He said.

“I love you too, dork.” You mumbled, moving from your chair to his, resting your head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you.

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #colson imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff

[beyondspaceandstars]

can i pretty please request hc’s about carol crushing on reader and not knowing what to do???? like big bad smug danvers is…. nervous????? 😩

Nerves

A/N: ugh absolutely i LOVE this idea

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

carol thought she was going to get knocked over by your beauty the moment you two met

you were helping out the team with some miscellaneous stuff and you were being ushered around to meet all the big tough larger-than-life superheroes and the moment you and carol shook hands.......she was done for

absolutely just totally stunned by you and your sweet smile and soft voice and how you just looked genuinely interested in everyone and you were paying so much attention it just blew her away

and these feelings while great were daunting as hell for carol

she had never, ever felt like this with anyone and yet here you are, you two barely spoke maybe more than ten words to one another, and she was head over heels

it turned her into a "nervous nancy" which is like crazy, right? she'd think it's insane - she can fight aliens on different planets but now she can't even figure out how to go about her day when you're around

one instance where carol thought she losing her marbles was during one morning she was in the compound kitchen making some breakfast and you just waltzed in all cheery, coffee cup in tow

"good morning," you'd say, giving carol a bit of a shy wave

carol nearly dropped her bowl of cereal on the floor hearing your voice

"g-good morning," she'd at least manage to get out. but then she'd fall silent and just stand there, holding a half-filled bowl of cereal, unsure of how to move around the kitchen

you'd find it to be a little odd but tried not to make her uncomfortable, worried you had did something wrong. you went about making your coffee and eventually had to ask, "how are you this morning?"

carol would eventually snap out her trance and go back to finishing making her breakfast. "i-i'm fine." a weird pause would fall over the room. "how are you?"

you'd shoot her with that same sweet smile you shared when you two first met and carol swore her heart was pounding so loudly you could probably hear it

"i'm doing good," you'd respond, now cradling your cup of coffee. "cereal for breakfast?"

carol would look up, nearly spilling the gallon of milk. "wh-what?"

you'd giggle finding it a bit more humorous now how the superhero was stumbling through the kitchen.

"you're having cereal," you'd say. "looks good."

"thank you." carol would eventually managed to muster up some smile as long as she could hold eye contact which was also getting a bit challenging

but then she was done. cereal all made, carol would race out of the room with a little wave and nod, leaving you blushing a bit with your cup of coffee, watching her leave

from there on any encounter with carol cracked you up because it was so obvious now you weren't doing anything wrong - she was just developing a bit of a crush on you. and you had to admit, you were certainly into her as well.

carol, of course, didn't know this - didn't even think it was in the realm of possibility until you two ran into each other in the kitchen again a few weeks later

after days and days of constant awkward flirting and little smiles you were ready to make a move and just ask her out

so, you did just that. carol was making her bowl of cereal and you walked in, heading for the coffee maker but not before asking - "do you want to get dinner with me tonight?"

this time, carol did drop her bowl of cereal but neither of you moved to clean it up. she just watched you, eyes wide in surprise. hands practically shaking.

"what?"

you'd smile, "dinner with me. tonight. would you like to go?"

"you want to have dinner together?"

"yeah," you'd shrugged, adding cream to your coffee. "dinner usually makes a good first date."

"date?"

you found it overly charming how carol seemed only capable of speaking in shift questions or one words but you'd still persist and nod, praying she was going to say yes

it took her a moment but she did, she agreed to have dinner and it was like something finally relaxed between you two.

after you set the place and time, you two got to cleaning up the shattered bowl and scattered cereal. carol allowed but she definitely was having some mixed emotions about being in such close proximity - and of course about the night to come

#request #carol danvers imagine #carol danvers one shot #carol danvers headcanon #carol danvers fanfiction #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x y/n #carol danvers x female reader #carol danvers x you #carol danvers fluff #carol danvers #captain marvel fluff #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel one shot #captain marvel #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #mcu fic #mcu #avengers #writing* #wlw

[foreverfallingforthestars]

Don't Say No

I'm super excited about today's prompt because it's something that I think is really fun and I got inspiration for this from a pjo fic I read months ago and I can't remember the title so, uh, woops. Either way, I hope you guys like it!

Word Count: 2068 Read on AO3 Rowaelin Month Master list

Day 3 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: Secret Relationship

~~~~~

Nox was tired. Everything at work had become mundane, and there was nothing interesting ever happening anymore. People came into work, tired and complaining about how it was the start of yet another week, and they would chatter about their weekend and any plans for after work. All Nox desperately wanted was to not be mind-numbingly bored as he read through yet another manuscript.

Thankfully, this Monday turned out to be slightly different than all the other Mondays. Nox knew something was up when the low toned chatter turned high pitched and excited as people wandered about the floor where Ashryver Publishing was located, pointing to the open door that led to their boss’ office. The layout of the floor was fairly open to allow people to easily converse with one another and move about the area while the higher ranking members of the company had closed offices, but Aelin tended to leave her door open to allow people to come in and speak with her.

Nox was fairly friendly with Aelin, and it was because of her that he’d gotten the job as a publisher reader when he couldn’t find a job, so he was understandably confused when there was nothing different about her when she walked out of her office. Her blonde hair was out as it normally was, and her makeup was done perfectly as usual. Nox’s eyes scanned over her as he tried to figure out what people were so huffy about this particular Monday until his eyes landed on the folder she was holding in her left hand.

“Holy shit, you’re engaged?!” he blurted out, seeing that diamond glinting off her left hand’s ring finger. Aelin looked down at her hand as though she were seeing it for the first time before rolling her eyes at him.

“Yes, Nox,” she responded with a small smile that was almost teasing. “I am.”

“I didn’t even know you were dating anyone,” he answered, leaning his elbows against his desk.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly something to publicize at work. I was dating someone, and now my boyfriend is my fiancee,” Aelin answered. Her eyes glanced about the room before she sighed. “Alright, everyone has two minutes to ask me questions.”

It was like a pack of hyenas had been given their first meal in days with the way the questions were thrown at Aelin, but she answered each one quickly and with her usual dose of sarcasm that made Nox smile.

“Have we met him?”

“Maybe, maybe not, and that is a serious answer. I don’t know if you’ve ever run into him on the sidewalk or in a restaurant or bar.”

“Is he good looking?”

“Yes, I have standards.”

The two minutes seemed to fly by with the way people barely got any information about her fiance, and Aelin looked way too pleased with herself that Nox couldn’t help himself. When she had dismissed everyone after giving people work, he made his way over to her office.

“So,” he started, leaning against the doorframe, “the big bad CEO of a publishing company has gotten herself someone who can deal with her.”

“If you’re trying to fish for information, you’re going to have to try much harder,” Aelin responded, a mischievous glint in her eyes that he’d seen way too many times.

“It’s okay,” he answered instead, “I won’t pry. I’m just happy for you, Aelin.” That brought out a genuine smile on her face before a ping on her desktop drew her attention from him for a brief moment.

“Ah, it’s actually good you’re here! We have a temporary hire coming in for the next month, or so, while we try to find someone else who can help you read incoming manuscripts. Let me just go get him.”

Nox chose that moment to sit down in one of the two chairs in front of her desk while Aelin stood up to grab her ID off her desk and walked out of the office. Nox waited for a few minutes, taking in the decorations of her office, including the small mementos she had scattered everywhere. The office had only been hers for two years, but it seemed as though she’d been living in that office for years with the way she had personalized it.

The company wasn’t an insanely big publishing house, but they had quite a few popular authors with best-selling books under their belt, and it was the intimacy of the employees within the company that drew aspiring authors and people passionate about books to it. Part of it had to do with the fact that it was a family business, Aelin’s mother owning it before she did, but part of it had to do with how much Aelin loved what she did. The photo of her parents, cousin, and sister-in-law alongside a photo taken at one of the staff dinners two years back was enough proof of how much she loved her work family as much as she loved her blood family.

The sound of Aelin’s heels and the sudden lack of chatter indicated to Nox that she was back with the new hire, who must be definitely impressive enough that his entry topped Aelin’s engagement news.

“Okay, Nox, I’m pretty sure I don’t have to introduce you two, but Nox Owen, meet Rowan Whitethorn, our new temporary hire.” Nox turned around to find himself looking at a man that he worked with for nearly a year before he left the company two years ago. Rowan was a tall man with platinum silver hair and a handsome face, even from Nox's perspective. The tattoos swirling down his arm definitely also helped with his popularity amongst women.

When Nox made eye contact with Rowan, the man smiled, and Nox nodded back in greeting.

“Isn’t that technically rehiring someone?” Nox asked, looking at Aelin and raising an eyebrow.

“That’s what I said when she offered me the position last week,” Rowan responded, sitting down in the seat next to Nox while Aelin took her seat across from them.

“It’s temporary!” she protested. Nox sent her a look that he knew she’d be able to read perfectly for that doesn’t matter, and with the way she groaned, he was sure that Rowan might’ve sent her the same look.

“Ugh, both of you get out of my face. Rowan knows what he’s doing so I doubt you need to do anything, Nox, but just give him a new manuscript that came in,” she grumbled, waving them off and going back to her computer.

Nox stifled a laugh as he got up.

“Hey, is it just me or did she get a lot hotter over the last two years?” Rowan asked quietly, and Nox had to stop himself from tripping and falling on his face.

“Man, she’s engaged. Like very recently too,” Nox responded just as quietly.

“Oh,” he answered, his eyes falling to the ground before snapping back up to Nox’s face, “well, if it’s recent then I don’t really mind.”

“Dude! That’s not okay!”

“Harmless flirting never hurt anyone,” Rowan protested as they sat down in their seats. Ever since the last publisher’s reader quit, that seat had been empty, and luckily enough for Rowan, that was his seat when he still worked at Ashryver Publishing.

“It will hurt if you break up her engagement.”

“If it breaks her engagement because I’m flirting with her, then she was never meant to be with that guy.”

“Oh my god,” Nox responded, turning back to his work.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Rowan spoke, and Nox reluctantly set his gaze upon the man, “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

Nox disagreed, but he did his part, so Nox simply shrugged before getting back to work. Hopefully with enough refusal from Aelin’s side, Rowan would get a hint and quit it.

*****

Rowan did not get a hint and quit.

In fact, as the week passed and so did the following week, he only grew bolder in the smiles he would send Aelin, in the side comments, the inside jokes (since when did they even have those?), and Nox was getting frustrated.

“Dude,” he hissed as he pulled Rowan aside before they stepped into the restaurant that they were going to have a staff dinner at, “seriously, quit it. I don’t want you breaking Aelin’s relationship just because you find her pretty.”

“She’s more than just pretty, Nox,” Rowan responded, more serious than Nox had expected him to be.

“Yeah, well, then you know that she’s a loyal person. Don’t make her break that.” With the way Rowan had nodded, Nox figured that he had finally, finally gotten through to Rowan.

Unfortunately, throughout the entire dinner, Aelin and Rowan were sitting next to each other laughing, leaning into each other. He couldn’t believe that Aelin was actually falling for Rowan’s bullshit. It wasn’t even like he was flirting outwardly, either. It was the small things that he was noticing while watching the two discreetly. Rowan would give her a napkin when she needed it, pass her something before she even asked, simply knowing that she wanted it when her eyes had drifted over to it. It was insane how attentive the man was, and it wasn’t fair that the subtle flirting was actually working.

Nox couldn’t even say anything in front of everyone, lest he risk bringing...whatever that was out into the public where he was pretty sure Aelin didn’t want it to be. He was contemplating whether or not he should talk to Aelin about the whole situation with Rowan, and he was doing just that as he leaned against his car, waiting for her to step out of the restaurant. He’d left along with the others so as to not make things suspicious, but he did notice that Rowan hadn’t left the restaurant either.

Nox was just about ready to leave when he heard Rowan’s voice ringing through the parking lot. “Look, maybe we could just tell them.”

“No, it’s way too risky. The whole reason why we stopped going out in public together was so that we could get all the other stuff settled first,” Aelin responded. Nox was definitely intruding on a private conversation, but also, he was incredibly curious about what was happening.

“They’re all about to lose their minds with the way they’re trying to figure out what’s going on between us.”

“That’s because they’re not blind, Rowan,” she laughed as their voices got closer. “I don’t really know what I would say to them, anyway,” she finished just as they were in his line of sight — holding hands.

Nox’s brain stopped working right then because, holy shit, his boss was cheating on her fiancee with her employee.

“Nox? What are you still doing here?” Aelin asked, catching sight of him.

“I, uh, wanted to talk to you...but apparently you...don’t care about your engagement.”

“What?” she asked, clearly confused. Her eyes drifted to Rowan who simply shrugged with a teasing smile.

“You’re cheating on your fiance with Rowan!”

A snort escaped Rowan, and that was the moment where Nox could see understanding shine in her eyes. She turned to Rowan before elbowing him in the ribs, and then turned to look at Nox. “This idiot is my fiance.”

Nox blinked once, twice, trying to comprehend the words that had come out of her mouth. “This man? Your boyfriend?”

“Fiancee,” Rowan corrected.

“Shut up, man. You had me thinking she was going to cheat on you! With you!”

“Not going to lie, it was really funny, though. You were freaking out for the last two weeks.”

“That’s just cruel, dude.”

*****

Despite being incredibly salty about the entire situation, Nox did have to admit that it was hilarious seeing his co-workers’ reactions to the wedding invitations that clearly started that Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, their dear boss, was marrying Ashryver Publishing’s ex-employee (now known as the new literature professor at University of Doranelle) Rowan Whitethorn.

Never had he seen more outrage at the fact that the two had hidden their relationship from the entire company for so long, and honestly, Nox was surprised they had managed to hide the relationship with the way the two couldn’t go longer than five minutes without some form of physical contact.

It was sickeningly cute, and he couldn’t help but think that Mondays weren’t so mundane, after all.

#rowaelinmonth #day 3 #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #nox owen #romance #comedy #throne of glass #poor nox lol he really suffered

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

Hero is young compared to Supervillain. Supervillain can tell Hero is getting depressed and overwhelmed so they send their druggie/fuck up of a son, Villain, to fuck with Hero. Villain gets Hero to drink, smoke pot, etc and they wind up sleeping together which causes Hero to latch onto Villain. Villain doesn't feel here or there about Hero; They'll take the companionship, but they're dealing with their own shit so this is just a way to distract themself.

Request #15

Warning: nsfw, dub-con, alcohol & drug intake, manipulation.

A bit of a more complex one, but fun nonetheless!

Enjoy! [:

~~~~

Hero heaved out a tired sigh as the thugs they had just stopped a few minutes ago got taken away by the police. They collapsed down into a sitting position, legs hanging off the side of the rooftop they were on. The hero stifled a yawn and rubbed at their sore eyes, dark circles hiding beneath their mask. As they watched the city's artificial lights mix with the moonlight's glow, their mind began to wander to places they did not want to visit but really couldn't stop themself from exploring.

At the same time, on top of a nearby building, two figures cloaked in the darkness observed as Hero got lost in their thoughts.

"Damn, I can't even see their face, and this bitch still looks depressed as fuck." - Villain muttered, their own mind tired but still much more 'collected' than the hero's. Their comment earned them a look from their superior, Supervillain.

"Just go and get the job done." - the older criminal ordered, a dark hint to their voice. The villain silently stood there for a moment before giving them a small shrug and moving towards the rooftop's edge.

"You got it, pops." - they responded in a monotone voice and jumped towards the next building. Villain moved from one rooftop to another, their footsteps silent, undetectable, deadly.

"If only all that skill had gone to someone less pathetic." - the supervillain thought bitterly and then retreated out of sight, disappearing amidst the shadows.

Hero, still unaware of the presence standing right behind them, quietly mumbled to themself, "...Why the hell did I pick this job...?"

"I dunno, 'cause you're a dumbass?" - the villain answered from behind the hero, startling them and nearly making them fall off the edge. They hurriedly got up into a fighting stance, ready to defend themself.

Villain only snorted in amusement, walking to the edge and sitting next to where Hero had been just a moment ago. They patted the ground next to them, inviting the hero to sit, "How's about we talk instead, ay?"

With a small grin, they added, "You look like you could use a break."

"..."

Hero, very much convinced this was some sort of trick, continued to stand there, ready for combat. The villain's grin left their face, and they turned their gaze to the city below. "Alright then, guess I'll just do the talking."

"..."

"So, like I was saying. You're a dumbass."

"..."

"Like, come on, man, you think you can just keep up this little heroic act forever?"

"Yes." - Hero finally answered through gritted teeth.

"Oh! So you can talk after all! You're still lying to yourself, though." - Villain said, a stupid smile on their face that infuriated the other to no end. It upset them because the criminal was right. And Hero hated that fact so much.

Deciding to keep up their lies, the hero responded, "I'm doing perfectly fine, thank you very much."

"Yeah, 'cause sulking all by yourself on a random rooftop in the middle of the night sounds so healthy." - Villain pressed, pissing Hero off even more, their body slowly shaking with anger.

"Ugh! Just what do you want?!" - they exclaimed, glaring at their enemy. They didn't have time for this! They- They didn't want to deal with this... They knew just how miserable they were... they didn't need a reminder...

"I just wanna help ya out." - the villain answered, giving the hero an oddly convincing look. There was pity in their eyes, but also... understanding?

Gah! No, that makes no sense! What could... Villain possibly know...

"You want to... help me...?"

"Yup!"

"...Why?"

Villain silently looked at them for a moment before their eyes went to the city lights once more. "Everybody needs a break from their own mind's bullshit every once in a while, no?" - They quietly asked.

Hero was unsure of how to respond, doubt creeping into their thoughts. Should they trust them? Perhaps... just one time wouldn't hurt? Before they could answer, however, the villain stood and offered them their hand, catching them off guard again. "Come on. You could use a distraction."

"And so could I..." - Villain thought, as they watched the hero internally battle themself, considering their options. After what felt like an eternity of silence, Hero relaxed their stance and, with a small sigh, slowly approached the villain and took their hand.

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

"This is where you live?" - Hero questioned, a bit astonished at the state of the apartment the villain had taken them to. While the place was a decent size, it was an absolute mess. Dirty laundry and trash were scattered everywhere; it smelled about as good as it looked.

"Then again... who am I to judge...?" - the hero thought bitterly, remembering that their own home wasn't looking that much better.

"Lovely little place I got, ay?" - Villain responded, dropping themself onto a big gross couch. What were all those stains from exactly? Hero decided they didn't need to nor want to know and sat next to them.

"Uh... yeah. So, what exactly are we here for?" - the hero asked, looking to the villain. The other merely scooted to the edge of the couch and pushed some trash aside, revealing a cooler. They pulled out two beers from it, handing one to their nemesis.

Before Hero could say anything, Villain, seemingly out of nowhere, pulled out a bottle opener and cracked both their drinks open. The villain immediately took a swig while the hero sat there for a moment, staring at their own bottle silently before thinking, "Oh, fuck it." and chugging nearly half of it.

"Ay! There ya go, Hero!" - Villain grinned, giving them a rough but friendly pat on the shoulder. Hero couldn't help but smirk a little themself. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad?

And then Villain pulled out a bag of some questionable powder.

The hero looked at them skeptically, taking another swig of their drink to cool their nerves. Their hesitance didn't go unnoticed by the other, who gave them an even wider grin. "Have you ever tried it?"

"Well.. no..." - Hero answered, the alcohol slowly getting to their system. God, why were they such a lightweight?

"Then don't knock it." - Villain continued, dumping the powder onto the table in front of the two, arranging it into neat little lines. The hero watched intently as the other leaned down and took one of the lines, inhaling it through their nose.

Hero set their beer aside and did their best to copy them.

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

A few hours have passed. Both Hero and Villain were now waisted the fuck out of their minds, barely comprehending any of their actions. The two were leaning against each other, blabbering some nonsense that made them giggle.

The villain's hands suddenly found their way to the other's chest, lightly trailing up and down it. "Say, Hero, wanna make this even more fun?"

"How??" - the hero slurred as Villain got up and dragged them along to another room. The two managed to stumble their way into the criminal's bedroom, Hero landing on the bed with the villain right on top of them.

"Oh..." - they started, their hands wandering across their enemy's body seemingly on their own. "Alright." - they said, and Villain dragged them into a sloppy kiss.

Very quickly, both of them freed themself of their clothing, throwing it aside and letting it get lost in the endless sea of trash that was Villain's apartment. Their skin met and felt perfect against one another. Hands were roaming all over, memorizing each other's bodies, finding all the right spots to touch that drew sounds from them.

As their lips parted for air, they both groaned as their hips ground together, the friction rising pleasure in them. Hero wrapped their limbs around the villain's body, holding onto them as they slid into the hero.

Their mouths met again, moans becoming muffled, the sound of the bed creaking in rhythm with Villain's thrusts filled their ears. As their enemy hit the right spot, Hero's fingernails dug into their shoulders, their back arching into them as the other sped up.

It didn't take long for both their breathing to grow unsteady. Their thrusts and movements turning chaotic and sloppy as they neared their orgasms. The villain's name slipping past Hero's lips as their muscles clenched tight and flexed, Villain reaching their own finish in nearly perfect sync with them.

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

Days went by, then weeks, then months. Criminal activity has been on a clear rise, civilians growing fearful and demanding to know why the hero was letting it happen, demanding that they do something, but their 'hero' was long gone now.

All this time, Hero had been meeting up with Villain more and more. They thought it would just be a one-time thing, but it had evolved into so much more. At first, it was just once a week or two... Then once every couple of days... And now...?

Now the hero was glued to the other's hip; they saw them every day, getting waisted beyond belief, getting lost in careless pleasure. People were dying, but Hero didn't care. Villains were winning, but Hero didn't care. They couldn't bring themself to care anymore...

Villain, meanwhile, was doing a bit better than them. They were glad to have a solid distraction for once. It felt nice to have company, to have someone else they could be miserable and ruined with every day of their existence.

Still, outside of that, though, the villain didn't care much. If Hero got hurt, then they could deal with it on their own, and if they died...?

Well, then they died, and Villain would have to find a replacement.

Just like they always did...

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