#especially one I’m going to headcanon as Went Through Some Shit And Trusts No One)

[a-concert-just-for-me]

It’s literally almost 4 in the morning and I’m still thinking about the potential Waffle TheOwlHouse has as a plot device

[writerblue275]

Collaborating with Heartsteel!Kayn (ft. the rest of Heartsteel!)

Inspiration: Music by Against the Current. Specifically “Burn it Down,” “Again & Again,” “Blindfolded,” “that won’t save us,” “Wildfire,” and so many other of their songs. Been super into their music lately.

Character: Heartsteel!Kayn (but also the rest of Heartsteel is mentioned)

Genre: Headcanon

Type: Fluff. Slight angst at beginning due to plot but it resolves.

Gender: Gender Neutral reader!

Tw: slight angst. Slightly low self esteem at parts. Shitty “friends” (not Heartsteel). Swearing.

Note: Honestly up to reader’s interpretation if there are romantic undertones in this or not. Truly I’m writing it neutrally where I can see either the reader and Kayn having only a platonic, but close, friendship, or have things develop into something more through/after the process. Up to you, besties.

You’ve known Kayn for years. Your musical stylings were very similar and your band and his old band ran in the same circles, though his former group was far more popular than yours while he was still a member.

You were the bassist/vocalist for your group and he played guitar for his.

Because of that genre overlap, overtime, you and him developed a friendship and often just hung out together, enjoying each other’s company.

Most of the time these were just hangouts in one of your rooms, improvising/riffing, having fun, and writing songs.

As you did, overtime you two discussed releasing some sort of project together, but the timing never seemed to be quite right.

Then well…Kayn was kicked out of his former band.

So all professional collab ideas were put on the back burner as you quickly and heavily focused on being there for your friend as he went through the toughest spot in his career.

Even when things got a bit ugly, you made sure he knew you were there to support him and that you believed in him and his talents.

Knowing someone was in his corner really helped him get to a better place again and he really thinks very highly of you because of what you did to support him.

In fact, when Kayn was approached by Aphelios about joining Heartsteel, he even asked for your opinion because he trusts your judgement.

And of course you encouraged him to go for it, knowing how much he missed performing.

You also had a good feeling about the group, especially if they wanted to have Kayn join even after all the shit that went down with his past group. It just felt like Kayn and Rhaast would be welcomed, and that made you happy.

You’re one of the very few people who he’s comfortable being Rhaast around. You’ve never judged him for his creative process and in fact have always been willing to accommodate it without judgement.

So needless to say, Kayn grew to respect you immensely.

As he settled into Heartsteel, he was happy to watch as your group continued to grow more and more successful. It also seemed like, even with the rising fame, your band all got along with each other.

That joy was something he appreciated even more now that he found his own group he felt at home with (Heartsteel).

Between your group’s rising fame and Heartsteel’s, that did mean you and Kayn weren’t able to hang out as much as you used to, and occasionally there were long periods of time where the two of you weren’t able to chat and keep each other up to date on stuff.

Which was why Kayn was stunned when he saw a social media post from your band announcing your departure from the group and who your replacement was.

The way the band worded the post, it seemed like the decision was mutual for both parties.

So Kayn was even more shocked to see a post on your personal accounts detailing how no, it wasn’t amicable, actually.

You were pushed out from your position in the group to make room for the lead guitarist’s sibling who also sang and played bass.

A situation of classic and full blown nepotism. It was a decision made behind your back and your former band didn’t even have the decency to talk to you about it before posting the announcement.

You found out about your removal via socials at the same time the public did. (That’s fucked up fr.)

Understandably, you were livid.

You were always a true professional when it came to both your music and your behavior while in the group, and you were regarded as one of the most talented bassists/vocalists in the genre. To hear you were pushed out due to nepotism was a shock for everyone in the industry.

(It also caused a lot of people to lose quite a bit of respect for your old band.)

While your captions of your posts on the topic remained professional, the hurt you were feeling was very clear in your words.

You’d considered your former band mates to be some of your closest friends. Them disregarding and disrespecting you like this stung a lot.

Thankfully so many of your fans immediately showed you support on your socials.

You’ve always loved and appreciated your fans and have always been vocal regarding your gratitude when it comes to their support. Because of that, you personally had a passionate subgroup of fans within your old group’s fan base.

Even with their support though, this was obviously a very rough time for you.

Kayn couldn’t help but feel upset for you. He knew how this situation felt and it definitely wasn’t great.

He left a comment on your post: “Fuck them and fuck that bullshit. You’re too talented for them. Let’s talk.”

That caused a lot of whispers. Most fans weren’t aware of your years-long friendship with Heartsteel’s main rebel.

The press went crazy. “Are they together??” “How do they know each other?” “Does this mean we’re getting a collab between (Y/N) and Heartsteel??” (Spoiler alert: Yes. Yes it does. 😂.)

(While you found the rumors and whispering silly, they did make you smile and laugh so that’s good.)

So you found a time to meet up with Kayn and just catch up on how things were going for each other.

He really was so supportive of you, making sure you realized you did nothing wrong and giving you the space and time to vent out everything you were feeling about the situation.

Kayn was getting his chance to repay what you did for him (though he hated that circumstances arose where he had to do so).

While chatting with you, he asked about some of the music you’d been writing, curious to see how things were coming along since he’d last seen you.

You showed him some of the songs/lyrics you’d been writing to process your grief and anger at the bullshit you found yourself in. Music had always been your comfort place and, despite the shitty situation, that hadn’t changed.

Kayn was super impressed by your work and he had an idea.

Kayn leaned forward across the cafe table you two were situated at. “What if we collabed on something? Like actually released a song together? Or shit, we could do an EP. We talked about doing so in the past. I think now is the perfect time. You can show those traitors you don’t need them.”

You looked surprised. “Really? Do you think we could? You have your Heartsteel obligations and I’d hate to take you away from those. Not to mention we don’t have enough people for it. I’ve got bass and vocals covered and you have guitar on lock, but who would play drums for us?”

He grinned. “(Y/N), I think it’s because of Heartsteel we’d be able to release something like this. The guys know I’ve been writing other stuff besides raps and they agreed to help me with any sort of solo or collaborative project I’m passionate about.”

Your eyebrows went up. “Oh really? That’s extremely supportive of them. I’m glad you have that.”

Kayn chuckled and nodded. “Things have definitely been looking up for me lately. But anyway, as for drums, Aphelios recently asked if I needed drums for anything. He’s been dying to break out his set again. So he’d definitely help us there.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Glad to hear that. But what about the sound production and mixing side of things? I only know the very basics.”

“Yone is one of the best producers in the industry and Aphelios has also been working alongside him on our projects. Between the two of them, I trust they’ll do right by us.”

You bit your lip before tapping your notebook. “Kayn, do you really think there’s enough in here for a solid EP? Would people listen?”

He tapped your note pad, “The lyrics in here are excellent, (Y/N), and knowing you, you already have melodies planned out. Besides, you and I were both pushed out of our former bands. That alone will create an insane amount of intrigue around any collaboration we do. I can tell you’re nervous about this, but let’s take a risk. Who knows what good might come out of it?”

His excitement and passion made the decision easy. You’d do it. You’d collab with him/Heartsteel (as long as the others were ok with it, especially Alune, Yone, and Aphelios).

They absolutely were. Yone loved the idea of producing more rock/alternative tracks. It was a genre he hadn’t really dipped his talents into yet.

Phel? Oh he agreed IMMEDIATELY when you and Kayn asked him to be the drummer for the project.

(A/N: I have such a vivid image in my head of Heartsteel!Aphelios just rocking the fuck out on drums and it’s GREAT. If only I could draw, damnit!)

And Alune thought the project would be a great way to drum up publicity for all involved, so she was all for it.

As were the other Heartsteel members. They helped out in their own ways too!

They’re really surprised (in a good way) by Kayn’s passion when it came to helping you. If it was such a big deal to him, they were going to do what they could to make this happen successfully!

K’Sante and Ezreal worked together to plan and direct a music video for the lead single (nothing extravagant. Just a cool looking performance video.)

Ezreal also helped with background vocals on the tracks.

Sett and K’Sante designed and helped make outfits for the MV and any performances you guys did.

You were super touched by how much they all helped you on this. Even though you were essentially a stranger, all of Heartsteel enthusiastically welcomed you in as a new friend and collaborator.

That made the entire creative process easy for you, which is what everyone wanted. You were stressed enough.

Recording the EP was so fucking fun? Truly your recording sessions were you, Kayn, and Aphelios rocking out with each other and doing what you do best. Performing some damn good music.

(A/N: Listen Kayn playing electric guitar has me in a fucking chokehold. He’d be so sexy with it and Jdnfjrnsnfjxkxnfjrkdnfjdk.)

After the recording sessions finished, you and Kayn were heavily involved in the production/mixing process with Yone and Aphelios. They always took your suggestions and thoughts seriously, and they genuinely had a lot of fun producing this project for you and Kayn.

With your past group, usually you just recorded and then your record label made all the important post-recording creative decisions. You just showed up where and when you needed to.

So having the ability and power to be so involved in the creative process/decisions for this project felt really liberating and wonderful. Heartsteel always made sure you felt seen and listened to when you made your opinions known.

(And the one time someone a prop-maker for the MV did kinda brush off your opinions, Kayn immediately backed you up.)

Speaking of creative decisions, usually you’re not a petty person…but you and Kayn decided to release the project around the same time you knew your former group was planning to release their own project. Because why the fuck not?

And when it came to deciding the logistics of the release (who it would release under/any features, etc…,) they gave you first artist credit. (It was Kayn’s request, but he didn’t have to try to convince the rest of them at all. They thought it was more than fair.)

Honestly Kayn, Aphelios, and Yone tried to convince you to just give them feature/production credit but you downright refused.

This was a true collaboration and you wanted to make sure people knew that. You were beyond grateful for Heartsteel’s role in this project.

The HYPE and anticipation surrounding this RP? Absolutely insane. People could not stop talking about it. And any sort of teasers/behind-the-scenes stuff you released on social media received so many interactions and comments expressing support for you and excitement for the release.

It made Kayn happy because he just KNEW your former group must be beyond annoyed. But in his eyes, fuck them. They didn’t care about your feelings when it came to kicking you out of the group so why should you take theirs into account? (<- He definitely said that to you more than once throughout the whole creative process.)

And once the EP was released (along with the lead single’s MV? Holy. SHIT. Things absolutely popped off.

Both fans and critics praised your work, particularly the raw and relatable emotions in the lyrics you wrote. Of course the music itself was praised too. Yone and Phel rightfully received a lot of kudos for their roles in the production of the music.

As did Kayn, ofc! Fans were thrilled to have Kayn back on guitar again and loved seeing him rock tf out with you and Phel in the music video.

The MV was also praised for its simplistic but impactful emphasis on the performance of the song. The visuals were amazing, though understated, and people thought your outfits looked cool as hell.

So many media outlets asked for interviews and such! It was wild! But it was super fun to explain to the public how you and Kayn knew each other and how this EP came to be! And Kayn always let you take the lead on questions since in his mind, this was your moment and he was just happy to be along for the ride. (One of the few times Kayn has ever been truly humble.)

(Also, lmaooo, Kayn definitely was throwing subtle shade onto your former group throughout all the interviews and when he did talk. You might not be a typically petty person, but he was. And he held quite a grudge against them now.)

You, Kayn, and Phel decided to do a mini series of concerts performing the project. Definitely not a full tour or anything, but it was just a chance for you to keep performing these songs that mean so much to you.

And every single concert? Sold out very quickly after tickets went on sale.

Those concerts were an absolute blast btw. You’ve never had so much fun performing before them. (Shout out to Alune for making sure each concert ran smoothly. You always made sure to thank her and buy her food after every concert, so now you are definitely on her favorites list!)

Also, because of your EP and concert series, you were scouted by a different band, another really well-respected group in the genre, who just lost their bassist/one of their vocalists. They really loved your lyric writing on the EP and wanted that talent on their team. (And of course they love your voice and your talents on bass!)

So even beyond this project, now you have a new group to call home! WOOHOO! (Kayn was so fuckin excited when you told him. His level of excitement was very unexpected but sweet!)

Needless to say the project was a total personal and professional success (and completely overshadowed your old band’s release hehehehehehe).

It allowed you to keep finding your joy in music even after a shitty situation, and you got to reconnect with someone you cared about (Kayn, duh).

Also working with Kayn and the other members of Heartsteel was just so fun.

They enjoyed working with you just as much. Through Kayn they let you know they’d be down for another collab, with you alone or with your new group, if you ever wanted to do another one.

(And while he didn’t say it out loud, Kayn’s definitely thinking: please collaborate with ME SPECIFICALLY again. Please please please please please *deep breath* please please please please.)

And you let him know you’d love to!

Thank you so very much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! I apologize for the infrequent posts. Life is very hectic at the moment but I’m still here, loving my fandoms! I’m hoping to start writing a little more since I’ve been feeling inspired lately!💙

[tawus]

Hey Tawus :) I hope you're doing okay and staying safe <3 I have a couple of questions for you, if you don't mind

What are your thoughts on unsealed Gojo? A lot of people have pointed out that he is dressed exactly like Toji and even has the same dead look in his eyes in that one panel but nobody seems to think too much of it. Do you think it has any significance?

Do you ship anyone from JJK? Or not necessarily ship in a romantic way, just really like the dynamic between two characters?

Would you write fics about other JJK characters Toji? Maybe when season 2 drops?

Would you consider making a short post here on Tumblr about your Gojo headcanons? You know, just listing them with bullet points, collecting them in one place. I really like your interpretation of Gojo's character and it genuinely feels like you have him & his quirks figured out. (Tbh if you said you knew this man personally, I would fully believe you lol) So yeah, I think many of us would enjoy reading your headcanons

Hello my dear! Thank you for sending this, it’s been ages since you did 😔 I’m going through some shit these days hence the delay (and hence also no new written content from me for about 2 months now, yikes). But asks like these are a good pick-me-up, so thank you again 🥰

⚠️ JJK manga spoilers below the cut ⚠️

1. Tbh I’ve been annoyed by Gojo’s apparent “Tojification”. It seemed to me like Gege picked the easiest outfit to draw and went with it. Since the beginning I’ve viewed Toji as one of the underdog characters of JJK which are used more like props for the plot, rather than given sufficient spotlight and respect. Not to mention, those who read the manga will know how things ended with Toji, so excuse me if I feel extra protective of him. Which is why Gojo’s Tojification – especially when he still has a huge and serious reckoning to do with Megumi in regards to what he did to his father, deserved or undeserved – has been irking me. The tiny panel in ch 224 where annoyed Toji goes “What a copycat” indicates that Gege is doing this stuff intentionally, but I still don’t think it’s anything more than a gag. If it is, I’m curious to see what it is.

2. Now that you mentioned it, I actually don’t have any ships in JJK wow! But what Yuuji and Megumi have is special. Reminds me a bit of Luffy and Zoro: that same absolute unspoken trust and having each other’s back at all times. Plus, Zoro also has a harder, inaccessible personality, whereas Luffy is goofy and optimistic – for sure reminds of the two JJK boys.

3. Omg you a Toji fan too, HELL YEAH! I have 2 Toji fic ideas: one is a one-shot, another is a longfic. I really want to see Toji animated first, as you suggested, since I want to capture his mannerisms, his voice, his cadence, his emotions, everything about him as perfectly as possible! I can’t wait to see him on-screen 🤩

Other characters I’m captivated by are Yuuta (tho not a huge fan of his cursed technique being Copy...), Sukuna and Kashimo (oh btw, I'm 99.9% sure Kashimo is inspired by OPM's Garou...).

4. This is a super anticlimactic answer but could you please narrow it down for me, i.e. you would like Gojo headcanons regarding what sphere? I only ask because I work well with specification, if I know which direction I’m going I’ll produce my best work. And also thank you very much!!! ❤️❤️❤️ Insanely happy to hear my rendition of Gojo sounds right to you! No higher praise for fanfiction 😘

[aclosetfan]

That’s fair! Your characterizations are some of my favorite. Butch outside of Buttercup is an enigma, especially when you ignore widely accepted fanon (which, don’t even get me started on how horrible it is that he’s been reduced to ‘violent perv’🙄). I like to think Butch is the type to just be quiet and -depending on who you are and what the subject i- listen. A big part of his journey would probably be finding his voice. I don’t necessarily think he’s smart, but I also don’t think he’s stupid. Somewhere between an average C or B student. I like to think he goes into something that requires him to focus on his hands. Maybe a mechanic? Something that keeps him busy and occupied. It’s probably why Bubbles loves having him paint her nails. Maybe lots of heavy lifting too. Blossom does appreciate it when he helps her carry her school work. He’s probably the type that is quiet but is never still. He has to keep busy because he doesn’t share his thoughts, but he doesn’t like being the only one who has them, hence the finding his voice. It’s something he works on over time, an arc where he finds the proper outlets to explore what he’s thinking without necessarily having to open up to everyone. It’s here that most people just pair him up with Buttercup and have her ‘suffer’ through him because counterparts! Who better to get it than my somewhat opposite? But I think it’d be even better if his first approach is either one of the other girls or his brothers. Depending on the fic one might be thinking of, a trusted adult would be great too. Hell, I like to think it’s be Robin of all people, because let’s face it our fave norm went through it😔. But yeah, these are just some thoughts I have about him because I really love that loser. I don’t even know if these count as part of a characterization if I’m being honest. Maybe headcanons? If that.

You're giving him traits and motives that would propel his story forward, so this definitely counts as characterization, anon!

And I so agree with you. I hate the violent perv schtick he's stuck with, and while I recognize that in canon, the boys are pieces of shit (they *are* bad guys), and they may have been looking at a porn mag (what teenager hasn't?) in that clips episode (that has singlehandedly done more damage to this fandom than any other episode), this characterization of him totally ignores how Butch seemed to be hyperactive, fun-loving, silly, dirty little kid who liked roughhousing and fooling around with his brothers in the show/comics.

As a fandom, we can allow him to mature. He can still be a piece of shit. He can still like porn. Who cares. But the violent perv thing? I think we can move past it unless the story calls for it, ig??? Idk it just gets old pretty fast and falls into those typical "hyper-masculine" roles that, if you're trying to make a story where you are redeeming the boys as heroes, would need to be slowly written out of Butch's character. If you're keeping him a piece of shit, then go for it, but Buttercup would absolutely not be attracted to it, and that's why I think I don't like it. I always see this kind of characterization when he's shipped with one of the girls, and it ends up being more detrimental to the girl's character than to his.

I love love love how you characterize him as someone trying to find himself as an individual. I like playing with that idea, especially with "middle" siblings like Butch and Buttercup. It's honestly perfect. Like maybe he's just lost for a while, and someone has to look at him and be like, "listen, sure, things are different now, and you don't know who you really are outside of being evil, but look at all the good you've done just by being there!" And the view pans to Bubbles happy with her nails painted, and Blossom snuggled in next to her new bookshelves, and maybe, the Professor's engine doesn't make that clunking noise anymore!

I also subscribe to Butch being the quiet sibling, but solely because he’s the brother with the least amount of lines in the show. Haha idk also big middle sibling mood for those who are only children. At least, my middle brother is quiet, me and my youngest brother talk for him lol. he’s too sweet to really be like Butch tho😂

Also this is so crazy, anon, but if I assign Butch a norm, I chose Robin too!!! I’m just not far enough in the story I’m writing to prove it lol 😅

[thesunicarusfellfor]

WAIT WAIT— what if 👀 what if Yandere!Tubbo and Yandere!Tommy falling for the reader at the same time

BROO— THE ANGST POSSIBILITIES

ooooooOOOOO DAMN this one is gonna be good! I love the way you think! So I wrote this as headcanons, but I will write this as an actual story if requested. ^^

This is not exactly implied romantic??? I'm still scared about writing their characters as directly romantic????? I'll probably get braver about it but still lowkey worried.

Yandere!C!Tommy x GN!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo Headcanon/Fic

Tommy, at first, completely denied even acknowledging your existence.

Until he saw someone interact with you.

Then he would start pulling out his sword or glaring at them from across the room.

He would definitely pin them in an alleyway and threaten every single one of their canon lives.

Tommy, please. Niki was just trying to give you cookies.

He's the kind of Yandere that would greatly keep his distance both physically, emotionally and mentally. Basically, he would be a Tsundere Yandere.

Tubbo, on the other hand, would be extremely sweet to you.

Need netherite? He had an extra few ingots ready in his pockets!

Interacting with someone who wasn't him? Was he not good enough for you??? Fine. You don't deserve him.

He would cry to you and make you feel guilty OR completely ignore you for a week straight until you come crawling back to him and apologizing.

Straight up can flip emotions like a switch.

The first time either of them realized the other liked you as well, was when they were listening to Mellohi on their bench, watching the sunset when they saw you having a conversation with Ranboo at the bottom of the cliff.

"What're they doing talking to him?" Tommy growled lowly and leaned forward to glared at the enderman who was talking to you. He reached for his bow n' arrow before Tubbo grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks, "What? I don't want them talking to anyone but me."

"What do you mean 'anyone but you'?! You avoid them like they're a virus!" Tubbo stared at him, digging his fingers into Tommy's bicep a small bit to show his anger a bit more, "They should only be talking to me."

The blond turned towards his brunet friend and yanked his arm out of his grasp, "Excuse me?" He glared into Tubbo's dull blue eyes, gritting his teeth, "You do nothing but give them stuff!"

"And you treat them like shit and avoid them!" The smaller of the two retorted angrily, trying to keep his tone level enough to where you didn't hear.

Mellohi, the music that had been playing mere moments ago, slowly came to a stop and left nothing but silence and tension in the air. You had noticed them arguing from below, but Ranboo (who had heard their entire argument) decided to pull you away from them and bring you to the Tundra.

"Are you trying to take everything from me?!" Tommy tightened his grip on his diamond sword, although part of him knew that if Tubbo equipped his netherite armour, there would be absolutely no competition whatsoever.

"Take things from you?! They're a human being and you choose to ignore that fact when you ignore them or call them terrible names!"

"I treat everyone like that! You already have Ranboo, I don't understand why you're chasing after them with hearts in your eyes when you're fuckin' married! Loyal much! Oh wait, you aren't loyal, you EXILED ME!"

"It's platonic! I told you that already! And you're starting this again now, Tommy?!"

Ranboo actually felt nervous leaving you alone around both Tommy AND/OR Tubbo after hearing their entire argument that day.

Tommy, although now a lot nicer, became extremely clingy towards you and constantly would walk over and drag you away mid-conversation with anyone that wasn't him. ESPECIALLY if you were talking to Tubbo.

Man would bring you everywhere with him if you would let him.

Netherite mining? Get your pick.

To get new discs? Pack your bags, we're going on an adventure.

Straight up does everything he can do to get you away from Tubbo because he's petty.

He tried giving you as many gifts as Tubbo, but mans is broke.

Tubbo would get extremely annoyed by Tommy even just walking through the area when he was with you.

Would start to hold your hand or link arms with you (if you're comfortable), just so Tommy couldn't pull you away as easily.

Started to try guilt-tripping you into living in Snowchester, and even tried to get you to live in the mansion.

Ranboo actually lied to Tubbo, saying he was scared of enderwalking and hurting you, to convince Tubbo not to guilt-trip you further into living in the mansion.

Tubbo's constant gift-giving got so much more extreme.

Want netherite ingots to make armour?

Nope. No lifting a finger.

He already made you fully enchanted netherite god armour anyway.

Has definitely tried to convince Ranboo to let him involve you in the platonic marriage.

"Ranboo! My beloved!" Tubbo called jokingly, walking into their home. He kicked the snow on his boots before pulling down his hood and taking off his hat, hanging it on the hook as he took off his footwear, "I have a proposition for you!"

The monochrome-coloured man lifted his head and set down the journal in his hand, the ink likely still wet judging by the quill in his hand, "Yeah? What's that?" He placed the feathered pen in the pot of ink and turned to face his platonic husband.

"What would you say to extending our marriage to three people? Like a polyamorous relationship. Like Sapnap, Karl and Big Q?" Tubbo sat down in the chair beside him, watching as Ranboo was left reeling for a few seconds.

"W-well, one, I think you mean expanding. Two, with who?!" The tall male sat up quickly, bumping his leg on the table from his minor flailing, "A-and, and, what about Michael? Are you sure they can be trusted with him?"

Tubbo held out his hand to calm his friend down, making his friend put his hands down so he didn't accidentally hit something, "You know what I meant, and (Y/n)! Y'know... Like, the one with (h/l) (h/c) hair, (tall/short)! (Y/n), them!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know who they are, it's just..." He paused to gather his words, glancing away from his friend. In all reality, he wouldn't mind inviting you into the platonic marriage, even if he knew Tubbo felt more romantic feelings towards you. He didn't shut up about it. It was the fact that he was worried about what kind of mental manipulation Tubbo would do to you if you did agree to be in the marriage. Or even what Tommy would do to you or Tubbo!

"...Just?"

'Your relationship with Tommy is beyond screwed already... Imagine what would happen if both of his friends left him to be in a platonic relationship with me. Tubbo, all of us would be in severe danger.' He thought silently before taking a breath. "I-I don't have my enderwalking state under control... I'm already scared for Michael enough, and I don't want to hurt her as well... Give it some time and we'll see. Please.." He whispered, lying through his teeth. Ranboo knew you were damn good at protecting yourself and could knock his long and lanky ass to the dirt within seconds.

Tubbo's bright shiny eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment as his smile began to falter, "Ah... Yeah. I guess that makes sense. For their safety I suppose." His normal look returned and he gave him a smile, "Yeah, that does make a lot of sense. I'll ask again next month to see what happens."

"What... What about Tommy-"

"What about him?" He demanded sharply, his smile vanishing in mere seconds which caught Ranboo off guard yet again, "He doesn't need to be in their life. He would do more harm to them than good!"

Ranboo was left gaping, his mouth moving but not creating any sounds. He watched as Tubbo eyed him carefully before he got up, murmuring something about grabbing food then going to bed.

Once the goat hybrid was completely out of sight, Ranboo reached for his memory book and took the quill again.

'Protect (Y/n) from Tubbo and Tommy. Get them out of DreamSMP.'

Ranboo was scared for you.

He was stuck watching as these crazy two men fought over you, threatened you, manipulated you... It was worrying, to say the least.

Don't get him wrong. If he didn't have an adopted son, a platonic husband that he still cared about despite him being another Dream at this point, and a Syndicate to protect him from, he would've packed everything and ran, bringing you with him.

He was practically walking on eggshells around this man that he had once been extremely close to!

It practically sent shivers down his spine...

Eventually, it got to the point where Ranboo had gone to your house in the ungodly hours of the morning to talk to you.

This man LITERALLY crept into Tubbo's room AND Tommy's house to make sure they were both asleep before going to talk to you.

"Ran... Boo?" You asked, yawning softly as you leaned against the door, your hair all frizzy and messed up, "What's up? It'sssss... Like 5:30am. The sun is barely even up..."

"(Y/n)... Can we go inside? Please... There's something very wrong.." He murmured softly, his memory book tightly held in his grasp as he glanced around. Tommy could be waking up sometime soon, and he did not want to get caught talking to you. He would certainly be down a canon life before he could even say 'sorry'.

You watched the nervous man in front of you and nodded before stepping aside to let him in. Peaking outside, you looked around for what was causing him to panic but went back inside once you didn't see anything. "What's wrong?" Softening your tone, you gestured for him to sit at the table while you made coffee.

Once he had a fresh mug of coffee in front of him, Ranboo slowly began to gather his nerve and speak. He told you everything he could remember, and even opened his memory book to tell you about the things he didn't remember. Everything from the fight where Tommy and Tubbo's friendship completely went downhill a few months ago, to the threats Tubbo used against Tommy, the manipulation against you, the threats he had received by talking to you, and even Tubbo's violent mood switches when talking about you or Tommy.

The entire time, you just sat there wide-eyed as you listened to him ramble on about his fears and worries, and everything in between. He even mentioned wanting to actually divorce Tubbo because of how scared he was for you and his own life. "I don't... Not... Believe you... But this is- this is a little difficult to believe." You knew the enderman hybrid wouldn't lie about something so serious, and he definitely wouldn't be shaking like a leaf if it was a joke or a lie.

"Y-yeah, I expected that... But I really do care about your safety, honestly. You know I wouldn't joke about this kind of thing, especially about Tubbo." He murmured softly, looking at his crown laying on the table in front of him, "In all honesty, I came here this early because I was scared about Tommy trying to kill me if he saw me talking to you..."

"He wouldn't ki-"

The door slammed open dramatically and there was a cheerful shout of your name, "(Y/n)!!! Let's go mining for diamon-" Tommy walked into your kitchen, only to freeze mid-step and midfacial expression. His expression went from surprised to annoyance to a grim smile, "Hello Ranboo!" He gave him a smile that was more like baring his teeth as he twirled his axe nonchalantly.

He was going to hurt him...

[dilemmaontwolegs]

So, something that I think about a lot when it comes to Steve Rogers is that he came from an point in time where people were being (brutally) institutionalized for things like being gay. And while he’s a good example of not being the product of his time, I wonder if it left any impact on him. Having personally grown up in a hyper religious household with outdated views stemmed from homophobia, sexism, misogyny just to make a few, and realizing by the age of eight that I was queer was extremely traumatic to me for a lot of reasons, but circling back to the point. Especially with him having been sick his entire early life, my personal headcanon is that he’s bisexual. He grew up knowing not to talk about it, but heard time and time again that it meant there was something deeply wrong with him. That it was a sickness. It was only when he went through the serum trial that he realized, when he was still the same in that sense, that there wasn’t anything wrong with him. That it didn’t make him sick and there wasn’t anything to be fixed. He never projected those feelings before or after onto anybody else, but it helped open his eyes and make him better understand that part of himself. Then flashing forward to present day, he gets to watch ground breaking developments in equality and pride. Parades, legalized marriage, foundations, fierce allies, etc. At this point, I’m just indulging a lot of my own feelings/stuff that’s been on my mind with this one, but I was wondering if I could submit a request with you? I love the way you write and I think your blog is absolutely amazing. The idea I have in mind is that as incredible as all of these strides are compared to the time he came from, he slowly starts to realize that there’s still a long way to go. When he meets Transmasc!reader(he/him), they fall in love. They’ve managed to build as much of a domestic life as they can with Steve doing the whole Cap/Avengers thing, but it hits a point where Reader is happy. Not just with the life they have with Steve or their relationship, but how far he’s come and the person he’s become in spite of the odds he’s always felt stacked against him growing up. He takes the ultimate step to get the closure he needs, and decide to bring him back home to meet his parents. It would be the first time seeing his family since he’s started his transition (top surgery and testosterone) so he’s terrified, but hopeful, and he has his loving boyfriend with him, so he feels safe inserting himself in that situation again. But upon returning home, the family reunion goes about as well as you’d expect. Steve reaches his boiling point after listening to Readers parents consistently and systematically misgender/dead name him. So, Steve (aggressively) stands up for Reader and they leave, but in the aftermath of it all, Reader is distraught and heartbroken and slightly dysphoric from the way his parents talked about him, calling him the “sweet little girl” they used to know and treating him like some kind of monster. Steve being Steve, comforts him through this. Validating and reassuring them all the while. I understand that this is a heavy topic, so I completely get it if you don’t want to write it, but thank you anyway for your time and reading this far -💙

I love your head-canon! It would make so much sense that the serum fixed all his ailments but he was still attracted to men so of course it proves it’s not a sickness 💙

It was so hard writing this because I absolutely hated the readers parents and just trying to imagine having to face any piece of shit who isn’t accepting (especially blood), made me want to drown them in a vat of Carolina reaper chilli sauce because it is hotter than the fiery pits of hell. 

Thank you for trusting me to write this and I hope you enjoy it 💙

Found Family || Steve Rogers x transmasc!reader

Warnings: syringe/injection, transphobia (this is not condoned!), angst, fluff WC: 2268

Main Masterlist || Steve’s Masterlist

You stood in front of the mirror, as you often did, finding yourself deep in thought as you looked at your changing body. For so long you had hated mirrors because they could never reflect who you were, but now you traced the fading lines on your chest with a smile. You couldn’t believe how heavy those two lumps of flesh had weighed on your mind every day until they were gone. 

Movement pulled you away from the scarring and you saw Steve waking in the bed behind you, a sleepy smile growing as he saw you standing in all your glory. His hand reached out from under the warm blankets and you let him pull you back into the bed and into his strong arms. You snuggled under the blankets with your head on his shoulder as he continued his leisurely wake up, knowing there was nowhere he needed to be today.

“Good morning sleepyhead.” You greeted as he stretched an arm over his head, the blond hairs along it glowing in the mid morning light.

“G’morning.” He yawned before curling himself back around you and kissing you sweetly. “Can we just stay here all day?”

You sighed as he brushed his nose along your jawline, teasing the beard that was starting to fill out. “It’s Saturday, remember? We have dinner at my parent’s.”

Steve’s lips curled up and his smile widened. “Of course I remember. I finally get to meet the people who made my perfect boyfriend, I really do need to thank them.”

A slither of doubt crept in at the thought of seeing your parents for the first time since you started your transition but it was something that you needed to do. Steve could see the light in your eyes fading as you began to worry and he pulled you closer, hooking his leg over your hip.

“No matter what happens, I’m going to be by your side the entire time.” He promised. “And, if you feel uncomfortable at all we can leave.”

You nodded, not trusting your voice as you thought about how lucky you were to have such a supportive boyfriend. Even when Steve had to go away for work he would answer the second you called, he put you first and it meant the world to you. Needing to show him just how grateful you were, you claimed his lips with a hungry kiss and ran your hand down the hard planes of his chest. 

Unfortunately your alarm went off on your phone and you groaned as you reached over and found the notification that it was time for your weekly testosterone injection. With a rueful smile, you rolled away and went into the bathroom before hearing Steve’s footsteps follow. You had been taking the doses for almost a year and it had left you with the perfect routine, Steve resting on the edge of the bath as he used an alcohol wipe to clean the site on the outside of your thigh, while you prepared the syringe for him. 

You gripped the vanity and tried to relax the muscles in your legs but you were never fond of needles and that hadn’t changed just because you had weekly injections and monthly blood tests. It actually made you hate them more. 

“Relax, babe. Take a deep breath in…and out.” Steve soothed as he looked up to check you were listening before pushing the needle into the meat of your thigh. “Atta boy, all done.”

He stuck a small BandAid over the reddening spot before standing up and sweeping you off your feet. “I’m perfectly capable of walking.”

“I know.” He smiled, continuing on his way back to bed with you in his arms. “I just don’t want you going through unnecessary pain walking on it. And, I like being able to hold you like this.”

You smiled back and nestled your head onto his shoulder, the hard muscles not making for a great pillow but if you have a choice you would still choose it over the softest pillow ever created. He barely even jostled you as he laid you on the bed and climbed back in beside you, another perk of his super soldier strength. You cosied up to his side knowing you had a few hours to kill before needing to get ready for your parents and the dull ache in your leg would hopefully have subsided before you left. 

The moment your parents opened the door you could feel something wasn’t right. The usual excitement at your arrival was sedate and their arms barely touched you as they gave you feeble side hugs. You were shuffled out of the doorway and into the house before you could even introduce Steve and you hoped it was because of the cool weather and the warmth inside escaping - not because they didn’t want the neighbours to see that you were no longer ‘the girl next door’.

“Mom, dad, this is-”

“Captain America, yeah, we kind of figured that.” Your father said as he tucked his hands into his pockets.

“It’s just Steve, sir.” Steve said as he held his hand out before dropping it when your dad made no attempt to shake it and turned to your mom instead. “This is a lovely home you have.”

Her smile was short and she looked at the picture hanging on the wall of you in a bright pink frilly dress she had dressed you in as a child, her finger reached out and traced the image. “It certainly was. We wanted everything perfect for our little girl’s return but...”

A small sob escaped and she dabbed her eyes as she looked between you and the picture.

“It’s alright darling.” Your dad said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, almost glaring at you for being the reason she was upset. “We will get our sweet girl back, honey.”

You could feel your own tears welling and your shoulders slumped as all the confidence you had grown over the past year was erased within seconds. Steve’s hand slipped from yours as his 6’2” frame shielded you from your parents, your trembling hands clutching the material at the back of his shirt.

“You should be ashamed of yourselves.” His Captain’s tone boomed in the small hallway, startling your parents from the sound of your mom’s gasp. “I can’t even tell if you are ignorant or just cruel.”

“Excuse me?” Your father growled as he stepped chest to chest with Steve despite being much shorter. “Who do you think you are coming into my home and talking to my family like this?”

Steve reached behind him so he could pull you around his body and hold you to his side as he stared down your dad. “I’m the man who loves your son, and I won’t let anyone, family or not, disrespect him like you are.”

Your mother scoffed as she took a step to your fathers side. “We don’t have a son.”

“You’ve always had a son.” Steve shook his head sadly.

“I just looked a little different.” You murmured as you looked at the photo.

“A little.” Your mother rolled her eyes. “I took you bra shopping, we would get our hair done. Now you’ve grown a beard and cut your hair. I don’t even recognise you anymore.”

“It doesn’t change who he is as a person.” Steve said, his hand brushing his hair back as his blood pressure rose.

“Stop saying that!” Your mother all but shouted. “Her birth certificate clearly states female. I gave birth to a girl and just because she is going through a phase, that doesn’t change.”

You whipped your head back and forth, tears spilling over your cheeks as you realised your dream reunion would be merely that, a fantasy. Your parents had shown their true colours and couldn’t let go of the past so now they would be gone from your future. Wiping your eyes, you reached into your back pocket and unfolded the paper you had been saving to raise a toast to over dinner but there was no way you could break bread with them again.

“Actually, it says male.” You sniffled as you held up the revised birth certificate you had applied for. “I made a copy for you, I thought we could celebrate together.”

You folded it back up and tucked it into the picture frame, your parents leaning away from you as you reached pass, like they could catch an illness from you. The pain was sharp in your chest as you stepped back and started to head to the door, unable to look at their disdain any longer.

“You thought wrong. Take this.” Your dad tore the certificate from the picture and flicked it at your feet. “Our daughter is dead and we don’t want a stranger under our roof.”

Steve moved quicker than you could blink and suddenly your father’s feet were off the ground. The slam of him hitting the wall rocked the portraits that hung along it, some even falling to the floor and shattering glass across the tile.

“You don’t deserve to call yourselves parents, you’re just pathetic.” Steve seethed as he slammed your father back again while your mother screamed and tried to push him away. It wasn’t until he looked at you, seeing your heart crumbling in your eyes, that he dropped your dad and picked you up. “We never have to come back here again, I’ll be your family and you’ll be mine.”

You nodded as you dropped your head to his shoulder, releasing the rest of the tears you had managed to hold back. Steve hated to hear you cry and it took everything in him not to turn back and throw your parents through the whole damn wall for what they said. It had taken a long time to get to where you felt comfortable enough in your own skin, and then you had built up all your courage to visit them. You did not deserve to be treated how you were. You knew all this, and Steve reminded you as he buckled you in and raced around the car to the drivers side, but a small part of you wondered if you could have survived living a lie just to keep your parents happy, would it have been worth it.

“Y/n!” Steve called out and you jumped as you looked around and found you were parked in your garage, the entire drive lost in the depths of your mind that was full of what ifs. “I called you three times.”

“Sorry,” you murmured, “lost in thought.”

“Talk to me.” He reached over the console and took your hand, missing your usual reassuring squeeze you always gave him. “Hey, look at me, forget about them, they are not worth wasting time on.”

“I know, it’s just…” You couldn’t even articulate how you felt, they were your parents, they were supposed to be supportive.

“Every single thing they said was stupid and wrong.” Steve said as he ran his hand along your shadow of a beard and turned your head to face him. “You have come too far to let a couple of assholes make you doubt yourself. You spent your life fighting a war in your own body but now you love who you are and that is all that matters, fuck everyone else.”

Your eyebrows were halfway up your forehead as you heard Steve curse twice in quick succession, he only swore when he was extremely passionate and to hear him swear for you almost meant more than what he was saying. He was right, until an hour ago you had been the happiest you had ever been and you wanted to go back to that place. Nodding in his hands, you placed yours over his and gave them a squeeze.

“You’re right.” You whispered. “Thank you.”

Steve could see your heart wasn’t fully in it but it was no longer breaking in your chest and he made a promise to himself that he would do everything he could to make you happy once more. “C’mon, let’s open that bottle of champagne you’ve been saving. We still need to celebrate.”

You got out of the car and met Steve halfway around, his hand already waiting for yours before he towed you into the house until he stopped in the living room. You looked around the room that was adorned with his artwork and froze at a new addition hanging over the fireplace.

“Do you like it?” He asked, quiet apprehension in his voice as he stepped up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. “I wanted to do something special to mark the day.”

Your throat constricted as you stared open mouthed at the detailed picture Steve had drawn. Somehow with a charcoal pencil and sketching paper he had managed to capture your likeness and the pure joy in your eyes as you held your new birth certificate up. He had immortalised your happiness in a single image and the slither of doubt your parents had cruelly set under your skin disappeared. That image was your truth, it was your validation that settled the pit in your stomach and you turned to face Steve.

“Thank you.”

Steve’s smile grew as he felt your entire heart and soul in those two words. “I love you and I hope you know I would do anything for you.”

“This is more than enough.” You kissed him as your fingers slipped under his shirt and up his chest. “I love you too.”

[elysianslove]

Hey, hey, hey I just saw your post of hc boys having a beautiful s/o with dimples and I loved it, so can I please request one with Suna, Ushijima, Kuroo Please, you can ignore this if you want Bye!!

i didn’t expect people to love those headcanons so much but i’m glad!!! i hope you like these <3

i’ve written these same headcanons for other haikyuu boys too: you can find them in my masterlist! 

suna rinatarō

part 2 of it’s illegal to look at you two cause you’re both just that pretty

suna is painfully aware of how beautiful you are, and suna is incredibly smug about it, to the point that it’s almost annoying

you’re always being posted on his stories and on his instagram. he likes to show you off, absolutely, but he also loves to rub it in people’s faces lmfao. he’ll take any and all types of pictures, ones of you alone with the sunset highlighting your face, you across the table from him on a date, some ramen halfway through your mouth, a selfie of the two of you where his hand’s resting around your throat 

you can’t convince me suna doesn’t know how to do makeup. at the very least, eyeliner. he will put it on you, just to have fun, cup your chin in his hand when he’s done and say some shit like, “ain’t my baby pretty?” that’ll have your stomach reeling cause wtf you can’t just!!! say something like that!!! with an expression like that!!! 

nine times out of ten he’s the one flustering you, especially when you dress up and go all out for him. 

but it’s actually when you’re most casual that his breath’s like completely stolen from him. he doesn’t know why but seeing your natural hair a little messy, barefaced aside cherry chapstick on your lips and your cheeks naturally red, your clothes completely casual, either some sweatpants or jeans and a sweatshirt, or if you’re a girl, some tennis skirt or sundress you found in your closet. it’s not that it looks like you put in no effort. it’s more that you don’t need to put in any effort and yet, here you are, looking absolutely breathtaking 

listen, like i said, suna knows you’re beautiful. he’s aware that you’re pretty, you really don’t have to tell him. he can look at your face all day. but it just really, really ticks him off when people say it to him like he doesn’t know. his love language isn’t very explicit or loud, so to an outsider, he seems unaffectionate, but that really isn’t the case. 

he hates when people assume he’s taking you for granted, because really, there’s nothing he appreciates more, nothing he’s more thankful for, nothing he loves more, than you. 

i like to think suna thinks he knows everything about you, he’s so laid back and confident in himself and then he sees you smile so brightly once and he’s like what the hell hold up??? you have dimples???? and then he repeatedly makes you smile till your cheeks hurt, and he’ll be giggling stupidly while poking at them omg

probably tells you to pierce them at some point honestly 

but he adores them so much and whenever he sees you smile really brightly he kinda sighs dreamily and his shoulders sag a little and he smiles ever the slightest he is head over heels with you on god 

ushijima wakatoshi 

ushijima considers you being beautiful not an opinion, but a straight up fact. like he will argue with anyone to the death that disagrees. he’ll just be like 😐are u blind tf 

i don’t think he’s possessive about it, honestly. if anything, he’s sort of really proud at how everyone is so infatuated with you. not for himself and for scoring you, but genuinely he’s happy for you, for getting all this appreciation 

that being said, he is insanely protective over you. yeah he likes that people always have to do a double take when looking at you cause woah! but don’t look for too long. he knows it tends to make you uncomfortable, and it makes him uncomfortable too. 

he has you as his lockscreen and he always smiles so lovingly when he reaches for his phone. don’t ask him to check the time on his phone he will get sidetracked and end up staring at his s/o’s photo for far too long. 

he also really loves complimenting you, and one of his nicknames for you is literally “beautiful.” 

omg he’ll be waiting for you, sitting on your bed, as you change into an outfit for your date with him and when you come out he looks up and just smiles and gives you a thumbs up, and says, “perfect, as always, my love.” oh my god. 

and whenever you two are alone ushijima turns 100% softer, like he genuinely just melts with you, especially when you’re cuddling him in bed and he’s just trapping you in his arms. that’s when he admires you most, with his face so close to yours. he loves to just trace your features, kissing your lips, whispering against them how he’s so lucky and you’re so pretty

it’s at a moment like that one that he notices your dimples for the first time. he’s just admiring you up-close and he accidentally tickles you so you laugh and squirm and his eyes go wide, and he looks in awe, and in the softest voice ever as he traces at the indentations, “that’s so cute.” like his voice is so low and so soft and he sounds so in love because he is so in love 

his new wallpaper is now you, but smiling brightly enough that your dimples show 

kuroo tetsurō

i stand by the statement that kuroo is an absolute dork around his crush. will probably embarrass himself multiple times in front of you. and the fact that you’re as beautiful as you are? it makes it ten times worse. like your eyes. why are they so pretty. what are words. why isn’t his brain working

okay but as your boyfriend, he’s so annoying. greets you every morning in the loudest voice ever, “how is my most beautiful, most gorgeous, most favorite person ever doing on this fine morning!” 

pick up lines. always. never ending. he sends them to you on text, instead of a cute good morning text like normal boyfriends would do. so you wake up and instead of seeing “good morning beautiful 💖” you see “are you a parking ticket? cause you’ve got fine written all over you” like kuroo baby that is so overused 

he still does it though 

also posts you just as much as suna but they’re all really chaotic pictures. things like him taking a photo in the dark with the flash on, his entire hand just covering your face, or he’ll take a picture of you as you’re choking on some food and probably make a sex joke out of it on his snapchat too. or just a picture of you sleeping really peacefully on his chest but in the frame you can also see a marker uncapped, and everybody’s comments are always like “kuroo no!” but he’s always like “too late rip”

he might not seem like it, but he is possessive. like he seems really laidback, and it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, or that he doesn’t think you can handle yourself either, because neither are true. it’s more that he doesn’t trust other people, especially because he knows how beautiful you are and how even if he’s with you people come up and shamelessly ask for you number. it’s why he’s as possessive as he is. he’s definitely gotten you a necklace with his initials on it at some point too

kuroo is always making you laugh, so him discovering you have dimples comes pretty early on. when he made you laugh hard enough that your dimples appeared, he just chuckled to himself, grabbed your face and squished it and in a higher pitched voice went “so cute!” 

now every time they appear he does that. he has to grab your face, and a lot of the times, he kisses your cheek too. not a light peck, nah, a big, wet smooch like mwah baby couldn’t resist hehe

[hops-hunny]

Hello?

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Black!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Request: N/A

Summary: Neville and (Y/n) get high together often.

Warnings: drugs( weed lmao), swearing, making out

A/N: This was based on the specific lyric below from Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. Pothead confident Neville is my favorite headcanon dfregfefe. I also felt like writing for Neville bc after reading a lot of @lxngbottom​‘s fics I was DEEPLY inspired.

“Are you into me, like I'm into you?

Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?

You're so close, and yet so far

I wonder how you look when you're in the dark”

The Weasley siblings all found themselves in absolute bliss when their parents told them they were going on a getaway. Apparently Arthur had learned about muggle spas and thought it’d be a lovely idea to take his wife to one for a much needed vacation after many years she had been caring for her children (and sometimes their guess) without barely any breaks. The gaggle of gingers all found it to be quite a wonderful idea too, but for other reasons. Although they had varying reasons of why they were excited for their parents to leave the house, Ron’s being wanting to invite over the other ⅔ members of the Golden Trio, Ginny wanting to wear that skirt that her mum always told her was ‘just a tad too short, dear’, and lastly Fred & George wanting to try out new and exciting inventions there was that one thing that tied them all together: wanting to get blazed out of their fucking minds. 

However, as quickly as that mischievous glint formed in all their eyes, their mother said something they all dreaded.

“Oh and by the way, we’re leaving Percy in charge!”

A collective groan was shared as the boy in question held a proud and cocky smirk that once again, he was the most trusted out of his siblings. However as per usual, Fred and George were not giving up that easily.

“What are we going to do?! You know Percy will rat on us!” Ron whispered yelled at the other three through gritted teeth. They all sat around the quaint little living room, distressed at what to do. Ron had already sent a text (is that what they were called? He wasn’t used to the muggle technology (Y/n) had got them all to use) to both Hermione and Harry telling them to pack their bags. He’d never live it down!

“Oh relax dear brother of mine! Me and Freddie here suspected something like this would happen so we came prepared. Right Fred?” George said with a smirk as he looked to his twin to the right of him. George nodded before pulling out an envelope.

“Exhibit A also known as ‘Blackmail dear Percival Into Leaving the House for the Summer.” he grin grew wider as he opened the envelope pulling out the photos. In the photos, Percy was shirtless during a party in the gryffindor common room. He had a half drunk bottle of fire whiskey in one hand and a blunt in his other which was held to his lips. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if dear ol’ mum and pop anonymously got pictures of their golden boy doing such awful acts?” he cooed, feigning a voice of disappointment.

“While you two idiots may not be helpful for jack shit else, leave it up to you to have a plan to get into trouble.” Ginny said rolling her eyes, a small smile forming on her face. “Well I guess that’s settled then. I’ll hit up (Y/n), Ron you hit up Nev and tell him to bring the loud. Lots of it too!”

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

That’s how they all ended up where they are currently. ‘Exhibit A’ was more than enough to get Percy packing his bags and leaving for a friends house after their parents had left. And of course, Hermione, Harry, (Y/n), and Neville had all shown up at the Burrow bright and as happy as ever. 

Although many people dealt around Hogwarts, Neville’s weed was always the best. He grew custom strains which were infused with other magical plants that had all sorts of properties. You wanted it to taste and smell like cheesecake? Done. Something odorless that packed a mean punch? Also done. He took good care of his product and went through the precautions to make sure it was not only safe but also that he didn’t get caught. He wasn’t always an avid weed smoker though. Originally, a friend had suggested it to him to help with his anxiety which had increased over the years but eventually it became less of an anxiety reducer and more of a favorite pastime. And hell, it left him with a pretty fucking nice amount of galleons in his pocket. It was also how he had met her.

He looked up at her form as she sat across the shed, looking as radiant as ever. She was laughing at something but he didn't know what over the sound of the music. One of his favorite things about her was how beautiful the whiteness of her smile was in comparison to her rich brown skin. It drove him absolutely nuts. It had only been a few weeks since he last saw her but as usual there was something new about her appearance.

He let his eyes wander over the work of art that was (Y/n). Her hair was different, her usual shoulder length black box braids had been swapped our for a beautiful set of honey blonde faux locs that stopped at her waist. In addition to her septum, she now had a nose ring on the left side of her nose and- was that a smiley piercing? Her skin was glowing vibrantly under the different hues of gold of LED lights that corresponded with the music. His eyes shifted down to her chest. 'Hm, she finally got the other one pierced' he noted due to the fact that her crochet bikini top left only the best bits of her breast to the imagination. And then he got to his favorite part. Her legs. Her supple, plush, smooth as glass legs. This wasn’t the first time he had stared at them longer than needed. He couldn’t help it, they were so fucking thick. And, were those his shorts? She must've stolen them from him last smoke sesh. He didn't mind though, she pulled off those denim shorts well and they hugged her in all the right fucking places.

“Bloody hell Nev, what’s taking you so long to roll the joint? Are you already that gone?” Ron groaned as he threw his head back. Neville looked down at the half rolled blunt in his hands, continuing to lick and roll it skillfully.

“Shut up Ron, just hit the fucking bong and leave Neville alone. Ol’ dramatic ass.” there was that honeysuckle voice he loved. God he could listen to her talk for fucking hours. I mean he had before. Her voice was sweet in the center and rough around the edges, a thick american accent still prominent in her voice. He smiled at that, looking up at her to find her already looking at him. As he continued to roll, he licked a fat strip on the wrap before shooting her a wink. 

“Thank you, petal.” he murmured quietly knowing she hadn’t heard as he looked back down at his hands finishing up. He grabbed the same lighter that he carried with him everywhere before lighting the end. As he was about to take a hit, a certain pair of gloss coated lips leaned over his shoulders taking a hit as she wrapped her arms around his upper half. 

Ron groaned again in irritation. “I hate it when you get the first hit! You always leave that damn sticky shit all over the blunt.” as he glared at the girl. She giggled before crawling off the wraparound couch taking her place next to brunette ruffling his long shaggy hair. He had been growing it out recently for no particular reason (definitely not the girl to his right).

“Ron you always buggin on something, nigga shut the fuck up! That’s why when you hit the blunt you leave it wet. Ol’ soppy mouth nigga I swear to god. Share with Mione.” she retorted as she leaned into Neville’s side looking up at him. He smiled down at her before wrapping his arm around her bringing her impossibly close. They both loved each other's touch when they were high. Whenever he’d touch her in one spot, (Y/n) always felt it in another- especially between her legs. She leaned up, kissing his freckled cheek with a smile. “Hey sir, how’s my favorite doing today?” she questioned as he bent down, placing a kiss right below her ear. 

“You know I’m always content when you’re next to me, flower. You don’t even have to question it.” he whispered in her ear before pulling back. She felt her face heat up as she rolled her eyes shoving him lightly. She crawled in his lap, straddling him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He instinctively moved one to her waist, stroking the smooth exposed sepia skin that was there for his enjoyment.

“You always talking some mess, Nev. Why don’t you do something bout it?” she said, motioning for him to hold the blunt up to her lips. He ignored her, looking into her eyes as he took a fat rip. He removed his hand from her waist, gripping her cheeks with it, rings digging into her skin. He leaned impossibly close as he shot gunned the smoke into her mouth. His lips hovered impossibly close to hers. ‘Finally’ she found herself thinking as she closed her eyes. However, the feeling of his soft pink lips never hit hers and she opened her eyes to find him smirking at her.

“And ruin this little game we have? Never.” He said, finally passing the blunt to her. If he had to be honest with himself, he was scared shitless. He was afraid if he actually did make that final move, jumped that final obstacle that she would be gone from his life. Sure, they made out all the time. It was normal for the two of them to get quite handsy with each other during smoke sessions but he found not even that being enough. He didn’t just wanna have his hands on her when he was high or wasted out of his fucking mind, he wanted her all the time. He wanted to sneak into each other's dorms and cuddle till wee hours of the morning. To carry her things to class for her. He wanted to live, breathe, and sleep (Y/n). But, is that what she wanted? He never knew. 

She sighed softly to herself, contemplating. It was very apparent to her that Neville wanted her just as badly as he wanted her. So, why had he never jumped the gun? Did he not want more? Was he really content with this little cat and mouse game they had? He couldn’t be, she knew who he was at heart which was a romantic just as she was. She was pulled from her thoughts as she heard the familiar beat of Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. She smirked at him, leaning her forehead against his as she began to grind softly on his lap.

“Are you into me? Like I’m into you. Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?” she sung to him softly, her (e/c) eyes meeting his hazel ones. He moved his hands up and down her body as she continued to grind her hips down on his. He let his hands travel to her ass, gripping it firmly. She leaned back slightly as she hit the blunt before returning the favor he had earlier. “You’re so close, and yet so far. I wonder how you look when you’re in the dark.” (Y/n)  continued singing as kissed up his neck, nibbling at the junction of his jaw and neck. He took one of the hands from her ass, moving some of the locs that had fallen into her face. He quickly tossed the blunt out of her hand into the ashtray in the table in front of them before leaning in and kissing her with such strong intensity.

The honey blonde haired girl moaned softly, already putty in the boy’s hands. Neville always knew exactly what to do with his hands. Where to kiss, where to tug, where to bite. Anything but actually dealing with the problem between her legs. She tangled her hands into the back of his hair, matching his lip movement. As he continued holding her ass with one hand, he used his other to stroke her cheek gently. A stark contrast to the kiss they were in which was wet, rough, and fast. He trailed his tongue over her lip which she gladly accepted. Their tongues danced together lazily as sweat began to build up on both of them. She pulled away partly, a trail of spit connecting them.

“Take this dumb ass jacket off. It’s the middle of July.” She grumbled as she began to unzip it, leaving him in some muggle band shirt she had gotten him one year from the states. She leaned back in, continuing to move her hips to the beat of the song. Neville began to move his hips up to match her movements. “Oh? So you got moves now huh? Who taught you those?”

“Don’t play dumb petal, you know you did.” He responded before gripping at her neck with his ringed hand. She gasped softly, looking into his blood shot blown out eyes. The music, the lighting, his touch? It was all much too much to handle. Her senses were overloaded by pleasure, the jane in her system. He tightened his hand some, leaning in closer. “You’re driving me absolutely mad, darling. Do you know that? I’d do anything you asked me to.” the movement of her hips had stilled but he kept going. She could feel the imprint of his member through his pants. Suddenly it was the only thing (Y/n) could focus on.

“Them Ravenclaw girls weren’t lying then, huh? You packin like that Nev?” she said suddenly. She knew he had asked her something a second ago, but the weed was really starting to hit. Her brain was foggy and hazed, the only thing she could think about now was him. She took one of her manicured hands, trailing it down his shirt till she reached his crotch. She gripped it in her hands, eyes widening slightly. He chuckled softly, catching her attention.

“Don’t act so surprised. You know I used to get around quite a bit.” He said, moving so his tent was resting against her inner thigh.

“Used to?” she questioned, laying her head on his shoulder with her eyes closed. She took in his scent sighing softly. Neville always smelled like a mix of lavenders, cologne, and that loud. She knew it from anywhere, especially when she smelled it in the amortentia they brewed during potions that one time.

“Yeah I don’t really pipe girls like I used to.” He moved his hands up, embracing her close as he kissed the top of her head. “Ever since a certain pesky little American girl started making their way into my life, she’s all I could think about.” she rolled her eyes some, punching him on the arm as he began to laugh.

“Don’t fuck around like that, that shit aint even funny.” she grumbled, pouting as she crossed her arms. “I thought you had an actual answer!”

“On god that was my actual answer, (Y/n)! You asked why and I told you why. Absolutely anyone could tell I’m mad for you.” Neville said as he uncrossed her arms, holding her small delicate hands in his large ones. He intertwined their hands, her sharp acrylic nails digging into his hands slightly. “Did you know when Keaton Willis asked you to Hogsmeade, I was so mad that I wouldn’t sell to him for 3 months?!”

“But I didn’t even go with him! Me and you went together to go get ice cream, remember?”

“So?! He still fucking asked you. I’m getting heated just thinkin’ about it.” He mumbled as he looked away from her. He pulled her closer, resting his head on the top of hers. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you dating such a loser. He’s not even a good guy and he’s always fucking short with his galleons when he buys. I have to practically hound the guy for my money. Yknow what? Fuck it.” he looked up at the brown skinned girl before holding her face in both his hands. He took in her features. Her plump lips, edges laid to perfection, face ‘beat to the gods’ as she would say. “Go out with me. Be my girl, petal. I can’t bear you not being mine for another second.” he said. She pretended to ponder for a bit before she looked back at him.

“Depends, will I get free weed? I expect free weed from dating the weed man, you know.” she said with a giggle. He rolled his eyes shaking his head.

“You already get free weed! Don’t pretend you don’t.” he said loudly, catching the others’ attention.

“What? Nev that’s not fair! You always make me pay and we’re mates! What happened to bros befo-”

“Ron you finish that and you ain’t leavin this shed with an eye, I can promise you that boy.” she whipped her head around quickly, glaring at the boy. Ron quickly shut his mouth knowing first hand that her promises were never empty. He gulped slightly before nodding, turning back to Hermione who handed him the bong muttering something about how he looked like he needed it.

“But to answer your question, Nev baby, I’d love to be your girl. Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than doing so.” (Y/n) leaned forward, leaving a lip gloss print on his cheek. 

“Well I’m glad you said yes because it would’ve been very awkward explaining to everyone tomorrow where that hickey on your neck came from.”

“Nev!”

[vivinightingale]

Now that I think about it I realize I need to know; first kiss headcanons with the yugioh bois?

Ooohhh first kisses?? Dont mind if I dddoo~ (had to put Atem and yami with the same picture cause of limits sorry v.v)

Yugi Muto:

Yugi has never kissed anyone before, so at the thought of kissing you his face becomes red hot.

He always thought about kissing you first, but always back out of it. So you will have to make first move.

It was awkward, and teeth hit one another since he didnt know to kiss.

However, when you do it's so magical. You can feel the sparks fly between you two. He tastes as sweet as his personality.

After the first kiss he could get enough of your kisses and kisses you everyday always enjoying the magical feeling you give him.

Ra does he love you.

Yami/Atem:

Atem is very passionate man, he just cant help these strong feelings. Especially when it comes to his love for you.

So when you first confessed your love for the pharaoh he was so happy that his feelings were returned that he pulled you into a kiss.

Though he hasnt ever kissed anyone before it feels like he has. It wasnt awkward, it was smooth and sensual.

He tastes like the finest wines, and sweet chocolates. It was a sweet combination that makes you crave more.

When the two of you part you already miss each others warmth, but have to keep it respectable due to his status.

But dont worry when night falls he will give more to fulfill your craving.

Yami:

Yami is very confident man, he has to be since he as the title 'King of Games'. However when it comes to you that confidence slips his mind.

When the two of you started dating he was ecstatic to finally call you his own. However the thought of kissing you was driving him mad.

He wanted to so bad to kiss you, but he could seem to find the courage to do it till you pecked him on the lips lightly.

At first he couldnt really think, but once it sunk in, he pulled you in for a proper kiss.

His kiss was bit rough, and tasted liked blueberries and lemons. It was all divine, and both left want more, but settled with hold each other close.

You took his confidence away, but he doesnt mind as long as he gets to kiss you like this every day.

Joey Wheeler:

Man from the moment he met you he always thought what it would be like to kiss you. How soft your lips would be against his, and how you would taste.

Needles to say he was smitten with you, and knew he had to make you his. Let me tell you that's exactly what he did.

It took him two weeks into the relationship to finally ask you for a kiss, and when you accepted he pull you sweet soft lips to his rough ones.

His was inexperienced and rushed, with the clashing of teeth and clumsy tongues. However it was sweet in nature and tasted savory. Something you could easily get addicted to.

When the two of you pulled away you were both a blushing mess, but that was quickly covered up with laughter and hugs.

It wasnt his best first kisses but he still wouldnt trade it for anything in the world because it was with you.

Tristan Taylor:

He never thought of kissing anyone before, but when started dating you that's all he could think about.

Your soft lips just seemed so inviting that, but he always go embarrassed with thought of doing it.

You have to be the one to make the first move, but trust me once you do it's all over. He loves the feel of your lips on his, the way your hands fit so smugly with his.

He tastes like smoked wood and honey it's a divine mixture that you cant help but love

The kiss was pure and innocent but you could feel the love behind it

Too bad the mood was ruined by joey bursting in.

Duke Devlin:

Duke may have kissed other people or two, but you...you were something diffrent.

He knew you were something special, something that would only come once in a life time. So he wanted to make it special.

So he took it slow and made sure he out love into everything he did or with you. There where times were he nearly kissed you, but ended kissing your cheek or forehead.

However, when you finally had enough and locked lips with him, he was in heaven. He felt sparks, the love, and the passion. Most of all he knew you were the one.

The kiss tasted like apple and cinnamon, and you wished it lasted a life time but eventually you both needed to breath.

When you both pulled apart Duke pulled you close and nestled his head in the crook of your neck. It was the most beautiful thing to ever happen to him.

Seto Kaiba:

Kaiba is a man of few words, he mostly let's his actions do the talking. However, with you he had a hard time doing that.

Whenever you came close to kissing him he would always move away, and when tried to Express your feelings to him he wouldnt say anything.

To began to feel like he didnt care for you as much as you do for him. So one day you Began distancing yourself from him.

He took notice of this and knew why you have been acting this way. So he caught you while you were walking through the halls of Kaiba Corp. He pulled you into a kiss.

The kiss was inexperienced and rushed, but it was magical all the same. It tasted like smoked oranges.

When you pulled away he apologized for his absence, and took the day off to be with you and Mokuba.

Bakura Ryou:

Bakura is inexperienced and nervous when it comes to dating, but he was willing to try with you.

The thought if kissing you was both scary and fascinating to him, so when you brought it to him he jumped into action.

He shakily put a hand on your face, and leaned in slowly. It was real agonizing up until you lips finally met. When they did he forgot how scared he was.

It felt like heaven to him. With your soft lips molding with his, and you tongue facing with his. He could ask for a better first kiss.

He tasted like peaches and cream, he is sweet as his personality. When the two of you parted his face was red, and he quickly hid his face in your shoulder.

The two of you cuddle for the rest of the night happy just to be in each others arms.

Yami Bakura:

Yami didnt have time for relationships or caring for others, don't surprised everyone including himself when he fell for you.

You were pure a beautiful to him, and he wanted that for his own. So when you confessed feelings for him he didnt waste time snatching you up for his own.

Because of his search it took awhile for the two of you to share your first kiss, but when you did it was a lot softer then you thought.

His was brash but soft. Tender and full of love, but also want and need. It was as mixed as his feelings, but you knew how he felt and that's all that mattered.

His kiss tasted like cucumber lime. Refreshing yet tangy, and his lips were soft then one would believe.

"You mean the world to me, even if the world isnt shit..."

Marik Ishtar:

Despite all his talk Marik is a bit shy when it comes to dating. So when the two of you started dating he was a bit lost.

For awhile it was nothing more then holding hands and hugging. Until the two of you went to the fair.

As you guys were riding the ferris wheel, your cart sat on the top. You could see most of domino city, and it was so breath taking.

That was when Marik called out your name, and when you turned to fave him his lips met yours.

The kiss was nervous and uncertain, but at the same time it was loving and careful. He tasted like cider and cinnamon.

When you pulled apart he pulled you close once again "I love you...so much, and I'm so lucky to have you."

Yami Marik:

He doesnt waste time in taking what's his, so not long after your relationship was established he snatched you up and smashed his lips on yours.

He didnt care who witnessed his shameful acts, he just wanted them to know who you belonged to.

The kiss was rough and full of want, but you could still feel some love behind it.

His kiss tasted like salty bourbon. It was hot against your tongue but felt relaxing all at the same time.

When you pulled away he locked his lips, then grinned at you.

"I love the taste of purity"

[antiherocorner]

Niki Lauda - The White Wolf

A Werewolf! Niki Lauda x Reader fic (18+)

Headcanons: 

So... This is my first AU ever... And also this is my first smut... Kind of... Thing... Ever... Sex scene, let's go with that... I was debating to post it in smaller parts, or a bigger one. I decided the second one might be better.

This is a mess, and a random idea... This could be a psychedelic trip, while you're watching fucking Twilight... Yes, I am familiar with the Twilight Saga... No, I wasn't Team Jacob... No, I didn't intend to base this on that... But it might has some similar stuff (no vampires)... Small stuff... All of them were unintentional, really.... Well... 1 or 2 things weren't, but most of them.

English is still not my native language, apologies for the grammatical mistakes, I tried.

Taglist: @rumblelibrary (you are my first tag in a fic written by me aaaaaaa🥺❤️🔥)

Summary: Your car broke down while you're on a road trip, on your own. You need someone to fix it. There's a small town. What could possibly happen?...

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don't do it kids), swearing, possibly smoking, drinking, mention of scar (nothing big or serious), google translated German, bad dog jokes, puns, and no, i didn't make a "real" wolf fuck the Reader, i'm not that kinky, i imagined the Reader to be female, but can be gender neutral, no name, or age mentioned, no use of y/n either... That's it?... Idunno, still new to this

(collage made by me, i don't own the pictures, i just used them, it's also very amateur, I haven't done a collage in ages)

🐺🤍❤️

You were in your car ‘till your waist. The damn thing broke down half way into your road trip. You have had enough of your monotonous everyday life, so you decided to pack up the essential stuff of yours, get your car together, and head out into the unknown. You have already seen beautiful mountains from a distance, gone through deep, mysterious forests, taken many pictures. You have tried to live in your car, but occasionally you have stayed in some cheap, low budget motels for 1 or 2 nights. You always had trust in your car, yet there you were. It didn’t run out of gas, it just suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, just outside of a small town. It looked rather friendly, and not busy at all. There wasn’t any other car passing by, so you did what you thought was the best decision: packed your bag, locked the car, and started walking into the town, praying to find someone, anyone really, who can maybe lend a helping hand.

The people you saw were really kind, it seemed they didn’t really get too many outsiders in their small town, and they seemed happy for you. They told you that there was one car mechanic in the town, a little group of guys. They also told you about a motel, which was always open for travellers, and due to the lack of them, it was basically empty. You decided to go to the motel first. The receptionist was a friendly old lady, who, again, got very excited to finally have someone at her place. You got your room, for a very small price, went in and unpacked some of your stuff. You really wanted to know what was up with your car, or if it could be fixed at all, so you didn’t waste much time in your new temporary place. After a few minutes you headed out to the streets, to the direction where you were told before to find the mechanics.

It was one of those warm days, so you were glad you found what you were looking for. You heard music coming out of an open garage. Above the doors you read “The Rat's Den”.

- Hello?... - you popped your head in the garage.

- Can I help you with something? - a tall, blonde haired man, with broad shoulders approached you. He had a cheeky smile on his face, sweat under his long locks. Oh, and shirtless.

- I uhm.. My car broke down just down the main road - you gestured with your hand where your car was - And I was just wondering if you could help me with it… I don’t know what could be the problem, I have been traveling with it for the past few days, weeks, everything was fine up until now. I just can’t get it to work.

- Sure, we can take a look at that thing - you turned your head to the direction from where another voice caught your attention. Another man just slipped out from under a car. He had curly hair, slimmer body than the blonde one, but still tall. You looked him in the eye as he came over. His eyes were like a river of caramel pudding, and they were glowing like a forest fire in the middle of the night. Your mouth watered.

- Thank.. You… - you said shyly. What’s happening? You normally aren't this shy… - When can you do that?

- Are you staying in that old motel? - asked the curly one.

- Yes.

- Alright. Is that good, if I go there around 7 am tomorrow, so I can take a look at it before I open the garage?

- Y-yeah… sure.

- It’s a date then. I’m Niki Lauda, by the way, that’s James Hunt. - he gestured towards the blonde one, James. You didn’t even notice him leaving you two. You told him your name.

- It was nice meeting you. I’ll be there at 7.

- Okay. See you then. And thank you.

- It’s no problem.

And with that you headed out of the garage. You turned back before you completely went outside. You saw a tattoo on James' right shoulder. You didn’t see every detail, but you felt a strange feeling. Unconsciously your eyes wandered to Niki. He was wearing a white shirt, but you could still see a glimpse of something similar, at least as you guessed, just under his neck. Strange.

You went back to the motel. You couldn’t go to sleep during the night so easily. You had a weird feeling about The Rat’s Den. Some kind of an aura was around it. It looked like any other garages where they repair cars and that’s it, but not there. There was something. You couldn’t really describe what you were feeling, or grasp what you should even be looking for. Something was up, you were sure about that.

🐺🤍❤️

After a few hours of sleep, you woke up. Niki could be here any minute now. You freshened up a little bit, you felt like shit due to the lack of sleep. Suddenly, you heard a loud car noise. You were the only one there at the motel, you guessed that was Niki. Honk. Yes, most definitely. You opened the door for an old, shiney Ferrari, with Niki sitting at the front.

- You’re coming or no, Schatzi?

You blushed by the petname, but quickly composed yourself, locked your room’s door, and jumped into the passenger seat. The man asked you about where you left your car. You answered and he drove to the correct directions. The short journey was mostly silent, with small talks. You stared out of the window, so you missed the spectating eyes of his.

- You’re good? You look exhausted…

- I’m okay, I just haven’t slept much. - you turned to him.

- Well, that makes the two of us.

You looked at him with curious eyes, but he remained silent, eyes focused on the road. You couldn’t read him, but tried to observe his features. He was pale, especially his knuckles as he was basically suffocating that poor wheel. He was taking deep and slow breaths. He looked like he was having a hard time in his own car.

- Is that your car? - Niki snapped you out of your thoughts.

- Yes, yes, that’s it.

Niki stopped his car in front of yours. You got out, and walked to it. He asked for your keys, so he could open the hood of the car. You took them out of your packet, then placed them in his open palm. Fingers briefly touched. He was warm. Surprisingly warm. For a moment you thought you heard him sharply inhale, but he quickly busied himself with your car. He has a nice butt. You immediately scolded yourself and turned your back to him, leaning on the side of the car, while he was working. After a few minutes, awkward silence, and some rattling, he straightened himself and turned to you.

- The engine gave up. Although it’s nothing serious or expensive, it will take some day to fix it properly, so it won’t die again. - so I stuck here yey - How long will you stay?

- As long as I don’t have a car I guess… - you massaged your nose, the lack of sleep started to catch up - I took it to a mechanic before I left… That’s just great…

- Well, that asshole did a shit job… It’s obvious what’s wrong, and it didn’t happen overnight. - he shrugged and closed the hood - I can’t take it back to the garage now, but during the afternoon I will come back for it with a more usable car.

- Sounds like a plan - you nodded and extended your arm to take your keys back.

Your fingers brushed against his, again, but this time the contact shot electricity up in your arm, which caused you to drop the keys. You instantly crouched after it, but what you grabbed weren’t your keys. It was a hand. Niki’s hand. How does he have these quick reflexes? You looked up, still holding his hand, and just realized that your faces were just a few centimeters away from each other. Both of you froze. Niki even seemed like he wasn’t breathing. His eyes were on yours, before he looked down to your lips. You licked them unconsciously. He purred. What?

- We should get back to the town.

He jumped up, leaving your keys on the ground. You tried to get yourself together, picked up your keys and sat back into his car. The way back to the garage was in complete silence. He didn’t purr, did he? He just breathed weirdly… I am imagining stuff… Right? You were confused.

🐺🤍❤️

Not much happened during the rest of the day. You tried to look around the little place, bought some food and just relaxed in your room. When the sun started to settle down you realized that you didn’t give your car keys back to Niki. You left each other in such a hurry, after he took you back to his garage, none of you had it in mind. You couldn’t call him, you didn’t have his number, and you didn’t really want to walk there. Throughout the whole day you had a strange feeling. Something was definitely up. You just felt it in your guts. Niki was like any other man and yet, he had an aura that just gave off some vibes which you just couldn’t grasp, no matter how hard you tried. You were pacing in your room when you looked out of your window. A red Ferrari just stopped in front of the motel. What, is he a mind reader too? You opened your door, spinning your keys in the air with your right hand.

- Catch! - you shouted, throwing them at his back, but before it could hit him, he turned around and caught them in his left hand with incredible accuracy.

You weren't expecting that. He didn’t say anything, just smirked and winked at you, as you locked eyes. You blushed deeply, and he disappeared just as quickly as he came by.

🐺🤍❤️

During the evening, you couldn’t rest. Again. This time you decided to go for a little walk. You weren’t really paying attention to where you were going. You just wandered around the quiet, calm town. It seemed like everyone was fast asleep. Not a single person, not a single soul was up. You arrived at a little dirt road which was leading you to a forest, next to your temporary home. You didn’t know why, you followed it. You got to a little field which was shielded with huge trees from the outside world. Some rays of sunshine were still peeking through the bushes, giving it an angelic look. Little red flowers covered your newly found small area. It felt like you were in a fairytale. But you weren’t. You heard a branch break behind you. You turned on your heels, just in time to see a huge, black wolf coming out from the bushes. It looked unusual, there was something in its face, in its eyes that was off. Human? It had a human kind of amused face expression. In the middle of your observation you just realized it was coming close. You panicked. Just when you thought it was going to rip you apart, another one jumped between the two of you, from behind you. This one was white, and slightly bigger. It growled at its own kind, like it was telling him to fuck off. The black wolf looked at you one last time and took off into the trees. The remaining animal calmed down, before it turned to you. It looked majestic. There was something royal in its posture. Around its neck and on his chest it had little patches of curly fur, like a mane. It had a cut on its lip, probably just had a fight, maybe with its prey. It looked deep into your eyes, like it was staring into your soul. There was something familiar in those eyes. The eyes were glowing, and like a river of caramel. Wait. You took a step forward and it instantly disappeared into the shadows. You really did needed to sleep.

🐺🤍❤️

You jolted up in your bed. You were covered in sweat, hair was messy. You massaged your face while you were trying to catch your breath, even your breathing. You looked at the clock. 1:30am. You managed to sleep for about an hour, before the nightmare woke you up. You saw the wolves again. They were circling you. The black one jumped forward and tackled you to the ground. Your sight got blurry, but you could still make out the silhouette of the white one. It changed into a man. It had curly hair. You felt like someone or something was watching you. You walked to the window, and pushed the curtain aside. You saw a wolf, watching you from the otherside of the road. A white wolf. That wolf. You immediately turned around, hands were burying in your hair. What the hell is going on? Am I going crazy? What is this place? A knock on the door caused you to jump. With shake legs and hands, you went to the door and opened it. Niki was leaning on the door jamb, with his left hand.

- What an earth are you… - you started with a confused look but it quickly changed into a shock, your eyes got wide when you looked at his lips. He had a fresh scar there. - There’s no way…

- I can’t do this anymore. You drive me crazy. - he looked at you with a beast-like expression on his face.

- What do y- - you couldn’t finish your question.

Niki technically broke into your room, then kicked the door closed. He didn’t mean to scare you, but he was on the edge of completely losing control over himself. He took a step towards you. You didn’t step back. You couldn’t. That animal look on him made your legs weak, your mouth dry. The lust in his eye made you want him. You licked your lips. That was the last straw for him. The next thing you knew you were thrown against the wall. His mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting like a hungry wolf. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he didn’t plan to go easy and kind on you either. He hooked his hands under your knees, picked you up and you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass and thighs.

- Your smell is intoxicating to me. I still don’t know how did I manage to not to rip your clothes off and fuck you on the hood of your car, when there were just the two of us, alone. - he confessed into your ear, and that made you feel all kinds of incoherent thoughts.

You wanted to answer, but when he sucked on your collarbone, the only thing that came out of your mouth was a moan, which could have been heard in Hell as well. He growled in response, grabbed your shirt on the back, and tore it in half with such ease, letting it fall to the carpet. He took you away from the wall, then placed your back on your bed. He sit up, just to took of his shirt. He placed himself between your legs, arms next to your head to keep himself from crushing you. He looked you deep in the eye. The warm that radiated from him was unbearable. It made your stomach turn in itself. He leaned in to capture your lips, but he stopped just millimeters away from you. There was a silent question in the air. He got his answer when you closed your eyes. When your lips met, you felt like you jumped to another dimension. He tasted like a mixture of cigarette and beer. Your hands found their ways into his curls. His breath stuttered for a second, before letting out a purring sound into your lips and mouth. He liked that. No. He loved that. His left hand wandered down between the two of you, to pull your pants down. You let him. Then it was your turn to free him from his pants. He let you. He was bigger than you would have imagined, and thick. And also hard like a rock. You gently grabbed him to pump him a little bit, but he didn’t let you have your fun for too long. He needed you badly. He wanted to bury himself in you. He pulled your hand away from him, and just as you were to pull your legs up for him to get a better angle, he tightened his grip on your arm a little bit, and turned you around like he just picked up a feather. You got confused for a second but when you felt him at your entrance you put the puzzle together. Oh. He is half wolf after all. And without a second word he trusted his hips toward and filled you up. You pressed your face into your blanket to suppress some of your cry.

- I’m sorry, but you really bring the animal out of me... Meine schöne Beute...- was all he whispered, but waited for a little bit for you, to get used to him, before he started moving.

From slow and sensual trusts, you quickly arrived to needy and shameless fucking. His occasional growles got mixed with your load moans. Niki kept biting your neck and shoulders, and you couldn’t do anything, rather just take it. Not that you had any coherent thoughts about doing anything in that position. As both of you were coming closer to reaching your desires, Niki’s hands found their ways to the back of your own ones, interlocked your fingers, and raised both his and your arms above your heads on the bed. You saw the finish line, but before you could register the checkered flag, your pleasure hit you like a racecar. The man behind you finished the race as a close second. He stayed inside you until he got soft, then collapsed on the bed beside you. After you stopped seeing stars, you looked at him. He was already looking at you with his big caramel eyes. You felt this urge to cuddle him, you were already missing his warmth, although he wasn’t that far from you. He looked like he sensed your thoughts, because he opened one of his arms, invitingly. You quickly snuggled to his side, head on his chest. He was drawing circles on your back with the hand that was behind you. You reached up to the back of his neck, and started to slowly massaging the hair on it. He instantly started purring.

- I love this sound… - you slightly chuckled.

- I can get used to this… - he smiled.

- So am I... - the broken car was long forgotten.

Both of you drifted off to sleep like this, in the arms of each other. The last thing you heard was Niki’s heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Thump. Honk.

You shot your eyes open. You were in your car. In a parking lot. You sit up, confused, trying to solve your thoughts. You were tired, so you stopped to sleep a little bit in your car, before you reached your next destination. Was this all a dream? You climbed over to the driver’s seat. Started the car. Looked in the mirror on your right, on your left, then on the middle one. You saw a little purple spot under your shirt, around your neck. You pulled the shirt aside. A hickey on your collarbone.

🐺🤍❤️

The End?...

[afrival]

can i request some hange, mikasa and annie headcanons who's s/o is depressed because their family (especially their mother and father) don't accept that their gay and they often make homophobic comments. some kind of comfort please ):

it's okay if you can't or don't want to write it.

have a great day ♡

AAA anon okay I’ll do my best :,) I will provide you the comfort you deserve 😩❤️ Sorry if these aren’t want you asked for

warnings: homophobia

modern au

•===============================•

Hange:

- Bless her soul she knew something was up immediately

- You had just come back from a visit to your parents, despite really not wanting to go, and it was probably the worst three days of your life

- As soon as you walked through the door she did her best to stay perky and like really affectionate, but you weren’t really up for anything at the moment

- “Y/N!” She practically squealed. “You’re home! How was—“

- “Not now Hange,” you said and wandered off to your shared bedroom

- Now, Hange is kinda clingy, HOWVER she knows when you need some space. You’ll come to her when you’re ready to, and she knows that

- So she spends the whole day catching up on work, maybe checks in on you silently every few hours. She’s very considerate even though she missed you a lot

- It wasn’t until like midnight that she came to bed, and you were still awake on your phone. She noticed your eyes were a little red and puffy

- Quietly she got dressed for bed and then snuck underneath the covers, laying on her side so she could look at you

- “Want to talk about it?”

- You sighed and shook your head, instead choosing to just lay on your side and look back at her

- That’s how you guys slept most nights, facing each other. Occasionally one of you would end up being held against the others chest

- A few minutes of silence and just staring you finally decided to tell her

- “They were saying things again. You know, about how unnatural it is. Just shit like that.”

- She listened carefully as you explained the snide comments your parents made during the whole trip, even going as far as to try and introduce you to a nice guy who was the kid of a distant family friend or something

- Hange isn’t the best at words for comfort, but she will be so happy to listen to you and proud of you for opening up about it. She just wants you to be happy

- Once you’re done speaking she’ll just hold you close and say it’s okay, you’re valid, she loves you, whatever you need to hear

•===============================•

Mikasa:

- Rather than stay home, she actually went with you to visit your parents

- You asked her to come along because you knew they’d be too much for you to handle and she was just very comforting

- Shes also intimidating as fuck, they would tone down on the comments a BUNCH while she’s there

- However she still catches on to how tense they are, especially since she’s there. They’re aware of the fact that you two are dating yet seem insistent on saying that you’re just good friends

- “So, Y/N, when are you gonna find a nice guy? You can’t live with your friend forever, haha!”

- And that really got underneath Mikasa’s skin, but she didn’t say anything. She just gripped your hand under the table and rubbed circles into your wrist

- When you tucked in for the night in your parents guest room, she would just lay up against your back and hug you tight. Spooning was her way of making you feel safe

- “I’m sorry,” she mumbled into the back of your neck.

- You rubbed her arm and smiled gently. “Why are you sorry? You haven’t done anything .”

- She hugged you tighter. “They shouldn’t treat you like that.”

- When you two FINALLY get to leave, she lets you angerly rant the whole ride home. She probably makes a few statements herself

- “I just— the nerve they have! Saying those things while you’re literally right there.”

- Mikasa just feels a great amount of sympathy that you have to deal with your family not being accepting, so she tries to make up for it with her support and by apologizing

•===============================•

Annie:

- Let’s be honest, you wouldn’t even bother going to visit your family while dating Annie

- She’s helped you realize that you don’t need to tolerate their shit just for the sake of keeping the bond strong or whatever

- She helps you stand up for yourself whenever your mom or dad says things that upset you

- Her way of comforting you is soft, but it’s less affectionate than Mikasa or Hange. She’s your right hand woman, literally will support and cheer you on from the sidelines so much

- However if they did they or do something that particularly upset you, she would absolutely drop everything to just help you out

- Need a hug? Just walk up to her and wrap your arms around her waist, she’ll understand. Just lay down on top of her or lay your head in her lap if you need physical touch for comfort

- If you cope by needing space for a few hours, or days even, she will gladly respect that and stand back for as long as you need

- Shes the same way, she gets it

- But if you aren’t like that, and prefer immediate and affectionate comfort, she can provide that too

- She’ll play with your hair while you rant or, in extreme cases, cry

- “I just—“ your hands waved around to express your frustration. “I don’t understand why they can’t just deal with it. I’m their kid, it’s not like anything has changed just because I came out.”

- “They’re a bunch of assholes, Y/N. Don’t worry about pleasing them. You’re happy, right?”

- “...yeah,” you sighed.

- She smiled down at you. “Then that’s all that matters.”

- Annie is just glad you trust her enough to talk about your parents with her, and let her help you through it

I love these mfs a lot, so this was nice to write. I hope these helped you out :,)

[luckyblackcloverrr]

The Black Bulls and their bullshit in the modern time: jobs I guess – Part. 3

Finally the last part is done! Thanks for following the short series of my cursed imagination until now. Here's more headcanons that weren't supposed to be headcanons :D. I made them a little longer than the previous parts, and I hope you all enjoy the mess that is Charmy's restaurant!

Magna Swing

works at the counter in Charmy’s restaurant

nobody knows how he got that job when he shows up to work looking like a teen delinquent going through puberty

keeps his sunglasses on even in indoors

had to learn how to use the cashier machine for the first time

accidentally repeated the order with the machine too many times and the total came out to a four-digit number

the customer got a discount in the end

there was one time when the machine malfunctioned and they thought they had to buy a new one

Magna came in and gave the thing a big smack, and it miraculously started to work again

Noelle gave him the title 'God of Fixing Things Through Abuse', shortened to 'FTTA God'

and now everybody at work refers to him with that title

he doesn’t like it because he’d rather be referred to as something cooler, but he lets them call him that anyway

has very short temper, will not hesitate to call out rude customers

someone once made an offhanded comment about Secré who was too busy to care and he went OFF

both Noelle and Secré had to work together to calm him down when he threatened to fight them outside of the restaurant

wanted to help out in the kitchen because he thinks he has a “thing” with fire, and Charmy let him try when working hours were over

proceeded to set the whole kitchen on fire and from then on Charmy forbade him from going into the kitchen ever again

convinced Charmy to buy a TV and put it in the restaurant so that he can watch baseball games when working

but he once switched the channel to a cartoon show and lost the remote

now he’s forever stuck on watching Miraculous Ladybug

Luck Voltia

King of Working Part Time Jobs™

works at every single shop known to date and jumps between each shop from time to time

sometimes he’ll be in the boutique:

running around the whole store to help customers look for their needed items because he didn’t memorise where each section was

and proceeds to mess up the folded clothes and now Henry has to fold them again

sometimes he’ll be in the restaurant:

ordering and serving the customers their food, even though he doesn’t remember which order belongs to which table

and also cleaning the tables when the customers finish eating

but it’s the best thing he can do there because absolutely no one trusts him in working in the kitchen

and sometimes he’ll be in the café:

bringing out coffee and dessert orders during rush hour because the others are too busy taking orders and making them

and when the shop clears up after a while he spends time watching Finral and Grey brew the drinks

the other bulls wonder how he hasn’t been fired from any of his jobs yet

but that’s because he surprisingly does well for the roles he was assigned to (and extremely fast too)

the only time he has messed up was when he ran too fast when serving food and he tripped and it spilled all over the place

and he went “oops! hahaha ;P”

Magna watching from the counter: i’m gonna kill him

stole the TV remote from Magna when he wasn’t looking and brought it to the boutique so he couldn’t switch channels

always competes with Magna on who can earn the most money

and it somehow always ends in a draw because Secré earns the most out of all of them

Secré Swallowtail

waitress at Charmy’s restaurant pt. 1

was dragged into working there, doesn’t even know why she’s doing it in the first place

but she works well, and store would have fallen apart if she wasn’t there

unanimously voted Employee of the Month every month

takes part in everything; including cleaning, serving, making drinks, settling payments, calming down crying children, calming down a hyper Luck

you name it, and she probably does it or has done it before for the sake of the restaurant

unlike Noelle and Magna, she's extremely unbothered

doesn’t matter if there’s someone being rude or causing a ruckus, she shrugs it off like it’s nothing and just moves on

she’s focused on doing her job and her job only

will only take action if she is touched physically or if other customers are visibly bothered

was the person who consoled Magna when he found out the TV remote went missing

but didn’t tell him that he could actually switch the channels without using the remote

death stares everyone to work when they are slacking off

the person who forced everyone into practicing fire drills in case of emergencies

hums the opening of Miraculous Ladybug because she has heard it playing too much from the speakers

and also because Magna screams the words of the song every time the show airs

is secretly thankful for Luck whenever he visits for his part-time shift

because he picked up the mechanisms of the restaurant SUPER FAST, and things run surprisingly much smoother with him around

lets Noelle style her hair whenever they have free time

ends up looking like a chicken because Noelle has no prior experience in hairstyling despite showing interest in it

and also because she used too much hair spray

Noella Silva

waitress at Charmy’s restaurant pt. 2

claims that she is too high class for this job

but next thing you know she’s putting on her customer service voice when ordering and serving food

took awhile to learn how to work in a restaurant

she couldn't hold the food tray and walk at the same time

and she kept serving the dishes to the wrong table

blamed it on the customers for confusing her, and Secré showed up afterwards to apologise for her behaviour

definitely had 'How to become a Waitress 101' lessons with Secré

takes absolutely no shit from anyone

doesn’t matter how much authority they have around the area, she will not hesitate to kick them out if they don’t treat others properly

would probably spill water on a customer and blame it on the customer for being in the way

becomes more diligent whenever Asta brings the children he's babysitting to the restaurant

also keeps tabs on his table just in case anyone starts to hit on him

rich, but doesn't take it for granted

because she doesn't understand the importance of money and how much she actually has

treats everyone to ice cream, especially on hot days

sometimes pays for the restaurant's bills because she insists

Magna always complains about her flexing her wealth

he shuts up when he gets the ice cream though

claims that she has absolutely no interest in cartoons and thinks they are childish

but is the person who sits at an empty table complaining about how dense the characters in Miraculous Ladybug are when it isn't rush hour

accidentally set off the fire alarm once

because she got scared when lighting a match and threw the lit match at Magna

payed for his motorcycle repair as an apology

Charmy Pappitson

owner of the most popular restaurant downtown

customers ask for her autograph and a photo with her sometimes

a very talented chef that everybody appreciates and respects

a cute, smiley person when greeting new customers and always keeps up with regulars

offers the most amazing dishes for a very reasonable price

whenever she has the time, she steps out of the kitchen to chat with the customers about food and check up on the other bulls (just in case)

but when it comes to the kitchen OHOHO

she gets VERY serious about cooking

in dire situations, she’ll stay cooped up in the kitchen and won’t come out until she has made the perfect dish

has several other chefs cooking in there with her, but no one has ever met them before

though the food comes out good so nobody questions it

does not trust any of the black bulls to cook food after Magna set the kitchen on fire

there is a framed photo of her hung up in the restaurant where everyone can see it

whenever she’s serving food, she has to hold back from eating it all

Secre and Noelle are her impulse controllers, if not the food will never make it to the customers’ table

makes desserts as a hobby and gives them to the customers for free sometimes as service

also donates some food to the local church every month, and offers more if she sees Marie

once dropped a freshly baked cupcake and cried about it for 2 hours

forgets to pay the workers sometimes

weekly gatherings with all the Black Bulls happen at Charmy’s restaurant

that time is usually when she tries new recipes and ask for everyone’s opinions

literally a whole party goes down every week at her place

there are noise complaints every time, but she ignores them because Finral is probably already apologizing for them

Parts - 1 | 2 | 3

[iremelwrites]

sal fisher and jeff woods friendship headcanons

(these take place before they became killers. inspired by my most recent post)

- they met in the beginning of middle school

- after diane’s death, henry and sal moved around the country for a while before they settled in nockfell. one of the places where they lived was new orleans (yeah this doesn’t really fit into canon (or even my own fanon, for that matter) but bear with me for the sake of the au)

- they were starting sixth grade and entering middle school, which meant that it was a new environment for them both

- that was the summer when jeff discovered the emo subculture and decided to become an honorary member

- margaret was on his ass about it and constantly nagged him that he’d never find friends looking like that

- so jeff entered the middle school premises with the goal of befriending someone cool literally just to spite his mother

- people in his morning classes were okay, but still not what he was looking for

- when the time for lunch came, jeff looked for a place to sit in the crowded cafeteria and when his eyes landed on a blue haired kid in a mask and a metallica hoodie who was sitting alone, he was like

- bingo.

- he immediately sat down across from him, saying something along the lines of “awesome hoodie. i love metallica”

- sal looked at him with wide eyes for a second because he didn’t expect to be talked to during lunch, especially in a positive context. jeff was probably the first person sal had met who didn’t start their first conversation with a remark or question about the prosthetic

- they introduced themselves and talked about classic rock for a while. over the summer, jeff took the time to learn practically everything about the bands he listened to, so when sal could actually hold his ground on that topic jeff was ecstatic

- once they discovered that they both loved playing the guitar, they were like,, yeah dude we’re best friends now

- jeff didn’t ask anything about sal’s prosthetic until sal actually told him. having his own share of insecurities, jeff didn’t pry on whether it was a fashion statement or a necessary measure. besides, he didn’t care that much, since it looked cool anyway

- the two of them shared two afternoon classes and passed each other notes during them constantly bc middle school is boring you know

- they’d start hanging outside of school pretty quickly. most of the time they’d be at sal’s since margaret was always at home and insensitive as fuck, and jeff didn’t want sal to go through that

- henry is really happy that sal made a close friend. doesn’t even mind the loud ass music constantly blaring from sal’s room whenever he and jeff hang out

- they soon learn that they reeeeeally needed a friendship like one they formed. they balance each other out perfectly. sal guides jeff through his bitterness and angst with empathetic rationality. jeff encourages sal to stand up for himself and be more confident

- speaking of which, few people bothered sal in the new orleans school because jeff was always ready to throw hands. he has a lot of unprocessed anger from margaret’s narcissistic abuse and being bullied himself. he doesn’t always respond when the violence is directed at him, but when someone fucks with his best friend?? they better count their days

- one time some asshole tried removing sal’s prosthetic in the middle of a crowded hallway and jeff went literally batshit. he won, too, and even gloated about the detention he got afterwards

- sal doesn’t exactly enjoy the fact that jeff gets in fights because of him. he prefers to solve his people problems verbally, and if they get physical, oh well, he’s used to it. sal told this to jeff on multiple occasions. jeff doesn’t care.

- not only is fighting a way to let out his suppressed anger, but jeff also has a very strong moral compass, and, in his eyes, anyone who hurts someone as nice as sal definitely deserves to get their shit rocked. the fact that sal is used to being a target kind of makes jeff sick, he tries to not think about that

- jeff believes that deserves to be hated by the people around him (that’s an idea margaret put in his head isn’t it). he hates everyone anyway, and doesn’t try to hide his misanthropy. it’s not a big deal if people hate him back. sal though???? jeff thinks that sal is everything he himself isn’t. smart, empathetic, and incredibly strong. the fact that after everything he went through, sal still sees the best in everyone, even the people who bully him, is something jeff admires him for almost to a saint-like degree

- sal and liu get along really well too! liu also admires him for his strength and kindness. kind of adopts him as his second little brother

- since sal is from rural new jersey, moving to a city as big as new orleans was exciting. he wanted to explore the city, especially the historical center. this worked well because jeff takes pride in being a native to new orleans and knows his way around the city. the two of them would often just take walks around town and check out interesting places

- they share a love for the supernatural, and since it’s new orleans, they explore abandoned houses and visit voodoo sites. one time, when margaret and peter were out of town, jeff, sal, liu and some of liu’s friends got together at the woods residence and used a ouija board to try and summon an ancient deity. it didn’t go well, things got creepy pretty fast

- they’d have sleepovers often, and the topic of their conversations would turn existential and philosophical at night. they’d talk about their past, their dysfunctional families, about their nightmares of things beyond their understanding and their uncertainty of the future. this is when they really connected. their troubles were practically identical and the conversations they had about them were the most fulfilling discussions they’d ever had. they knew they could trust each other with the deepest parts of their introverted minds and not be judged or misunderstood. both of them would talk for hours until passing out with a thought like “i’m so glad you and i met”

- platonic soulmates

[whenimaunicorn]

The Split

The Mandalorian x female Reader

(gif contributed by @bennskywalker​) (much love and undying gratitude to @equalstrashflavoredtrash​ for constant cheerleading, support, and beta services, and saving me every time I felt stuck on a scene; and also to @cptnbvcks​ for indulging the Big Meat headcanon and guaranteeing it’s happening in all my fics)

Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: choking, spanking, dominance/submission, threats during intimacy, rough sex Words: 8478

Summary: The Reader is a fellow Nevarran bounty hunter, working with the Mandalorian to catch a quarry and splitting the reward. They keep renegotiating the split until passions spark and other, kinkier interests start slipping out.

Full Fic:

There’s one thing you can appreciate about working with the Mandalorian: he sure knows how to be terrifying to his quarry. It’s not about bluster with him, or wild threats that can make a hunter seem unhinged; it’s in his sheer presence. He’s caught up to the quarry you’ve been tracking together, and now he looms over his prey like he’s inevitable.

‘Course, you’d never let him know he even made you shiver. “Enough with the dramatics,” you say to him, coming up behind the cowering bounty and yanking her arms together behind her back. “I’m the one that got her blaster out of her hand, and that’s the hardest part. Once they’re disarmed it’s all over. That ups my cut to 70%.”

A frustrated little hiss emanates from your business partner. He points that looming mask more squarely at you. “Fifty-five was what we agreed,” he says, words clipped. “And that was only because you had the specific location—”

“Without which your schedule wouldn’t have been worth shit,” you finish for him, pressing the binder around your quarry’s wrists. At least, the metal cuff clicks shut around one of them…

Suddenly the woman is whirling around, slamming the solid metal of the binder, hanging off just one wrist, right into your stomach.

You try to grab her but the momentum is not in your favor, especially with the wind knocked squarely out of your gut. You brace your hands on your knees, willing yourself not to fall completely down as you fight the pain, not in front of Mando, and manage to suck in a decent breath as you look up with involuntary tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

Just in time to see the Mandalorian grab the woman by the throat, stopping her escape in its tracks. He shoves her to her knees, bristling with frank irritation, and presses the muzzle of his blaster to the side of her skull. “Stay down.”

You stagger one step in their direction. Your gut hurts just about as much as your pride.

You can’t see a smirk on that cold metal face, but you know there has to be one as he looks over at you. “What were you saying about the hard part of the job being over? I’ll take that seventy.”

“This gets you maybe an extra five,” you wheeze, stomping to the quarry kneeling at his feet and jamming her other hand into the binder where it belongs. “And you’re forgetting that I was the one that noticed her sneaking out that hatch in the back.”

Another one of his annoying silences follows, the one where he stands so still and makes you wait, just guessing what thoughts might be bouncing around inside the helmet. “And she’s going back in my ship. My fuel, my carbonite. I’ll take sixty.”

You huff.

“You’re the one that started this. I would have been fine with the original agreement.”

You roll your eyes. “We’ll talk about it after she’s loaded in.”

“Up,” the Mandalorian barks at the quarry, digging those orange-tipped fingers into the cloth covering her shoulder and hauling her to her feet.

The woman complies, looking defeated, and you all start walking across the plateau toward where the Razor Crest has been hidden. Mando’s been in the game too long to pay docking fees at an official spaceport on a planet so chaotic that you can get away without.

Soon enough, the quarry says what everyone with a price on their head says, once the binders are tight around their wrists. “You know, you two really don’t have to worry about your split. Just let me get back to my guys, I can pay you each as much as that whole price on my head.”

You snort. “If that were true, we wouldn’t have found you working in such a shit-hole. No way the syndicate values you that much.”

“I seem to recall a story about you taking up a quarry on an offer like that once,” Mando’s modulator emits at you. He slows his pace so he can see your face as the three of you trudge across the uneven ground. “Didn’t it end with another Guild member finding you stripped and tied up in a cellar? That would have been a sight to see.”

“I heard that story too,” you shoot back. “Wasn’t me. But if you want to see me like that, Mando, maybe you can try to play your cards right a little later…” you force your mouth to close. Not the most well-thought-out comeback. Nor the kind of thing to say if you want a fellow Hunter’s respect. Which you do. It’s just that there’s something about the Mandalorian that’s damned enticing, that makes you wonder if he ever loosens up even a little, lets anyone touch the warm body that’s gotta be somewhere underneath all that armor.

“I know a good hotel in the East Quarter,” the quarry pipes up before Mando gives you a response, “soft mattresses, and real good soundproofing in the walls. Maybe you two need to work out some of this sexual tension before taking me back to the ship? You can just stick me in another room until you’re done.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d just twiddle your thumbs and wait real nice for us.” You stick your blaster into her ribs and prod her to move faster, just for being annoying. “Sweet of you to be so generous, but don’t worry. He and I’ll have plenty of privacy while you’re stashed away in carbonite for the ride to Nevarro.”

The Mandalorian’s helmet turns toward you sharply.

“What? It’s not that I don’t trust you, Mando, but I always collect in-person. I’m riding with you.”

  Mando’s ship is a real bare-bones operation; it’s not much more than a cargo hold and a cockpit. It’s almost enough to make you regret insisting on coming along. You can’t find a spot to get comfortable in, and there’s nothing to do. Mando’s not helping; he’s been sitting at the controls of the ship, back perfectly straight, since take-off. The course has already been set; the eerie lines of hyperspace are streaking by, and there’s nothing in this cockpit that actually requires his attention unless something goes wrong.

“So… what do you usually do while you’re in hyperspace?” you finally ask, slouching against the cockpit wall.

Mando’s hands turn palm up. “This.”

“You serious?”

He shrugs. “Good time to meditate.”

You look out at the rushing stars. “You have got to be kidding me. I’d go completely crazy in about five minutes.”

“You probably would,” he says. So calm, so matter-of-fact.

You look down at him sharply. He hasn’t moved a muscle, though he could be looking at you sideways through his visor and you’d never know. Infuriating. You plop down into the seat behind him. “You don’t think I’m capable of being quiet?”

“I’ve never known you to be.”

You flip your hair. “Some of us have a thing called ‘people skills.’ But it doesn’t look like they cover that in Mandalorian school.”

Now he turns his face toward yours. “Is that what you think you have.”

You nod, stifling the quick words that heat up your tongue so you can prove how quiet you can be.

“I’ve seen you try to get free drinks from soldiers that haven’t had shore leave in months, and still not be able to seal the deal.”

Mando? Teasing you? That’s new. You scoff at the accusation. “You just left too early. You would have seen where that night went. Try loosening up a little sometimes.”

Another silence. Then he swivels away from you, back to his perfect posture. “No thanks.”

“What are you jealous?”

The stack of armor in the pilot’s seat gives you no reaction at all.

You exhale loudly. “You know, I always thought you must have had some other kind of life to go back to, the way you drop those pucks off with Karga and never stick around.” You glance down the ladder at the empty cargo hatch, thinking of the junky little cot you saw crammed into a closet down there. “But you really live like this? Nothing but work for you, huh. Is that what it takes to be the best hunter in the sector?”

His helmet moves a fraction in your direction. “At least you can admit it.”

Your face gets hot. You did not mean to give that to him. “Some people say that about you.” You cross your arms, trying to get more comfortable by throwing your feet up on the control panel to his left.

He rolls his neck, beskar facing pointedly at your feet until you huff and move them.

Your frustration cracks into all-out mockery. “Ooh,” you blurt out in a sing-song voice, “I’m Mando, when I’m not hunting I sit perfectly straight and stare into space; my capture rate is near-perfect because I never sleep and guns are my religion.”

His helmet tilts above his metal-encased shoulder, dangerously close to actually looking at you again. “If you’re going to keep running your mouth like that, I can think of a few ways to make you shut up.”

It takes you a moment to recover from the rush that shoots through your body, a confusing mix of adrenaline and frank arousal as he speaks to you with the tone he usually reserves for quarries. Then you bark out a laugh. “Mando! Did you just make a dirty joke?”

Slowly he swivels the chair toward you, until he’s facing you squarely with his legs spread and fists on his knees. “I suppose you could take it that way.”

And then he just sits there, staring at you, as you decide which way to take it. Was he trying to say he hadn’t meant it as a come-on? That you’re the only one here with a dirty mind, that immediately imagined him shoving his cock down your throat? Fuck. Or does he want you to take it that way, to climb into his lap and sit your ass down on the battered metal plate covering his thigh…

You have to shake your head a little to make the thoughts stop. That is so not what he means. “You’re just mad that we make a great team,” you say, standing up and grinning, trying a new tactic. “That after almost bungling the hunt today,” the helmet cocks sharply at that accusation, “you realize that you need me. I’ve got skills you can’t even come close to.”

It’s hard to determine what sound comes out of his modulator, but you think it’s a snort. “What are you talking about.”

“My aforementioned people skills, for a start. Don’t forget I was the one that took in that warlord on Strigoth by getting him to follow me out to the edge of town without any of his guards. Not everything has to be a shootout. And I knew the quarry today was going to run before you did.”

Mando crosses his arms over his chestplate. “Keep telling yourself that. I’m still not raising your percentage.”

“I can hack any security system since the final Imperial update release, which is most of them in the Rim, and on top of all that”—you swing your left hand in like you’re going to slap him upside the helmet, and when he lifts his arm to block, you smack him over the ear with your right—“I’m faster than you.”

You jump back instantly, not sure how he’s going to react. His body tenses up into a fighter’s crouch, starting to come up out of the chair toward you. Then he sits back down, body language deliberately relaxing. He adjusts his helmet with one hand. “You’re a child.”

“I call it playful,” you shoot back, the adrenaline rush of what you just did almost making you giggle. “Another asset you seem to be lacking.”

He only shrugs in response, then swivels back to facing the oncoming stars.

He’s given you an opening that’s impossible to resist. As soon as his back is turned you swing your open hand forward. He’s ready for it, which you basically expected, and he knocks your arm away before you can make contact with his helmet this time. And ouch, that gauntlet of his jars your forearm all the way to the bone. You make a frustrated little noise. “Well, if you want to stick to business, we still have to talk about the final terms of the split. We can go back to 55-45, if you admit that today I had the superior skills.”

“With you taking the forty-five?”

“Hell no.”

He pauses, and you think he’s about to say something mature and reasonable, like he always does. Instead, he comes back with a very calmly-worded: “I could put you out the airlock right now.”

You swear there’s a wry little tone to that modulated voice. “You’d have to catch me first”—you slap the bucket on his head again—“and we’ve already determined I’m faster than you.”

“Stop that,” he growls, finally standing up. His cloak swirls dramatically and you try to suppress the primal feelings that make you a little weak in the knees when he comes up to his full height in such close quarters.

“Make me.” The words are out of your mouth before you can decide if they’re really such a good idea.

The Mandalorian’s helmet tilts. Now it’s his turn to try and work out what you may or may not be implying. When he finally speaks, there’s a new tone in his voice, one that catches something deep in your belly and drags. “You think you can take me?”

…Can you? You may be as good a Hunter as he is, but you couldn’t say unarmed combat is one of your strong suits. And you don’t even want to think about how much he out-weighs you, especially with all that armor on. But how can you possibly eat your pride and back down after you’ve provoked this?

You look around the tiny space of the Razor Crest’s cockpit. Mando’s helmet stays squarely aimed at your face.

“A lot of expensive equipment in here,” you say casually. “Wouldn’t want to damage anything throwing down right now.”

“Mm-hmm.” His skeptical hum makes the modulator crackle. Did he just lean in closer?

At this point the sexual tension is thrumming like a mis-firing engine in the space between you. If he had a face you could read, a mouth you could tilt your face up and kiss, you’d know what to do, but this? Even your renowned ‘people skills’ are failing you now.

You look away from the impassive, dark lens that covers his eyes, and that’s when he retaliates. One heavy gloved hand whips around your side and thuds a stinging strike right into your ass. The impact knocks you forward, almost into his chest, but you stop yourself before your hands touch his breastplate.

You suck in a breath and freeze, wide eyes drawn like a magnet back to that beskar face. Mando just spanked you. Hard. Mando… just… The pain ignites an arousal so sudden and strong that you’re worried you’re about to start trembling. It would absolutely kill your reputation if any Hunter found out that your sexual tastes ran submissive, that a deep secret part of you wanted nothing but to be overpowered and forced, to be used by someone stronger than you, better than you…

You can’t think of anything to do but flee. “I… uh…” His helmet tilts again, watching your face closely as you stutter. “Yeah, I guess I was being a little too childish. I’ll stop…stop trying to make you lighten up.” Your eyes slide away from his helmet’s eye slit, unable to handle even the imagined eye contact. “I’ll leave you alone to do whatever it is you do up here. Meditate. I’m gonna go down and…” you make for the ladder to the cargo hold, “and clean my blaster.”

He just watches you go. You can still feel the impact of his hand on your ass, with every movement of your leg as you climb down the rungs of the ladder. Fuck, it’s making your pussy tingle just a badly, too. Your head has just dropped below the hatch when Mando’s modulated voice follows you down with a suggestion that sounds suspiciously like a command. “Why don’t you clean mine, too.”

You feel your face and chest getting hot as soon as you get down to the relative privacy of the ship’s lower level. If you were trying to maintain control of the conversation, you’d say something sassy back to that, not let him win an inch of dominance, but you’re not in control anymore, are you? Not of yourself, not of whatever this is that’s going on between you. And it’s so dangerous. How would you keep his respect, if your top competitor in the Guild knew this about you, what you wanted him to do to you…

Mando’s weapon rack is set into the wall across from the ladder. Certainly there’s cleaning supplies stashed somewhere in that section, but you’re too shaky to get right to work. Instead, you walk down along the racks of carbonite, idly inspecting his cargo as you try and pull yourself together.

Four of the racks are currently occupied; the Mandalorian has been busy. Each one is tagged with a bounty’s chain code. You recognize two of them from Karga’s list. Quarries that you had passed on, that seemed too difficult to be worth their price. Bastard was about to show you up again when he unloaded these trophies.

You take a deep breath when you reach the end of the line. Your ass still tingles in the most tantalizing way, but you grit your teeth and tell yourself to ignore it. Maybe if you just stay down here, avoid your traveling companion until the ship reaches Nevarro, everything else will go just fine. No more bruises to your pride, no dirty secrets revealed. Yeah. That’s smart.

You turn and Mando is just there, boxing you in between the racks of carbonite carriers. How can a guy covered with so much metal be this stealthy? You try not to let shock show on your face; which only means you end up freezing like a prey animal.

“You liked that.” He makes the accusation solidly, with the weight of heavy interest bearing down behind it.

“What are you talking about.” You know, but you don’t want to answer for the heat that surely showed in your face when Mando spanked you. You try to wiggle past him, but he doesn’t acknowledge your intent, makes no move to make way for you.

“You know.” He’s just staring down at you.

You twitch in irritation and decide if he’s ignoring personal space, so can you. Your chest and thigh slide against solid armor as you force your body through the gap between him and the carbonite. “Get out of my way.”

His helmet is the only thing that moves, tracking your labored progression. “Make me.” He echoes your earlier challenge with an amused little tone.

“Fine.” You use your entire body weight to slam him into the rack on the other side. But he recovers too quickly; when you try to step away, into the center of the ship’s hold, he gets an arm around your chest.

As if your adrenaline wasn’t spiking already; now your combat reflexes kick in and you pull him in tighter, squatting low and grabbing that arm for leverage. With a quick burst of effort from your legs, you flip him over your shoulder.

You follow him down, taking advantage of the way a fall inside all that metal has to stun him, and climb on top of his body. “Fifty-five percent.” You also attempt to change the subject.

He reaches up and it’s a struggle to control his arms. He’s kriffing strong, and you’ve already taken off your combat equipment with the hidden tricks you usually use to deal with opponents that are bigger than you. He twists underneath you, in some way that you don’t expect, and with a rough shove and a brief crushing sensation along one leg you find yourself flat on the deck beneath him. “Are you really going to pretend you don’t like this?” his modulator purrs down at you.

Subject not changed. Every one of your nerve endings is in high gear now, and there’s a powerful urge inside you that wants to mewl and spread your legs apart for him right here, like a bitch in heat acknowledging the alpha male. You push the image back with a growl between your teeth, and use your thighs only to try and throw him off you.

Mando responds to your offensive by smothering you back down with his hips. Something solid crushes into the apex of your thighs, and you remember his armor does not have a codpiece.

A feral little moan escapes past your lips. Mando stops, lifting up just a little off your body and cocking his helmet to the side where it hovers only a hand’s breadth above your face. “What was that?” he asks, voice pleased.

And just like that, the whole game has changed. You were so worried he was trying to embarrass you, get one over on you. But if he likes it like this too… You reach your hand down boldly and throw his question back at him. “What’s this?” you ask as your palm makes contact with a delightfully solid bulge straining against the thick fabric of his pants.

A deep rumble purrs out of his modulator. “If you can manage to behave, maybe you’ll find out.”

How does he know exactly what to say to make you squirm? Your body floods with heat as you inwardly flail around to find a non-submissive answer. “And what happens if I don’t behave?”

“Then, maybe things get really interesting.”

Oh. Fuck. Now there’s an option. Maybe you don’t even have to submit to get the kind of tumble you want from him. You bare your teeth in a ferocious, challenging grin, and take advantage of the way he’s pulled his weight back to twist out from under him, knocking his helmet one more time with your elbow as you go.

You scramble across the deck out from under him, but a heavy hand catches your belt before you can get very far. You kick but Mando’s already inside your reach; your heel glances off his armor without even slowing him down.

He tugs on your belt, harshly, and climbs over the backs of your legs to force you down. “Where do you you think you’re going?” His voice is tight with the effort of getting himself positioned on top of you, squishing your belly into the deck.

“Mmf” is the sound you make in response, because now he’s pressing a forearm into your back and putting most of his weight on it.

“Hold still.” You give him a little token resistance, but mostly you let him get settled how he wants, holding you down to the floor evenly with the left side of his body. Leaving his right hand free. “So. What happens when you don’t behave.”

He spanks you, solid and centered and sharp.

You expected it just enough to hold your breath, and make sure you don’t cry out. You may be face-down on the floor under the Mandalorian, but you still have your pride. The first smack is followed by two more, and he grunts when you still don’t make a noise.

Heavy fingers smooth over the sting in your flesh. His hand feels amazing as it covers the swell of your ass, a slow, deliberate drag that feels warmer than it ought to and much more soothing than you expected.

“What’s it going to be, Y/N?” he asks. When you don’t answer fast enough for him, he swats at your other cheek, lazy and powerful.

Maybe he got a little noise out of you with that last one; it’s just too hard to stay quiet and not flinch both at the same time under the strength of that arm.

His helmet comes closer down to your face. “It’s okay to let go.” He speaks with such confidence, such seductive calm. “I can tell you want to submit. You don’t have to keep fighting it.” He shifts on top of you. “Though I do like it when you struggle.”

Your body rolls enticingly underneath him, without your brain’s permission. “Don’t you dare tell anyone you got me like this.”

“Of course not.” His answer is immediate. You remember how he’s always been an honorable man, that part of his reputation impeccable. Perhaps you really can trust him with this side of you. He sticks to the Code, he honors his promises, and lives by the Way of the Mandalore.

That last one begs a certain question, of course. “I wasn’t sure that Mandalorians could even have sex.”

A throaty noise makes the modulator crackle. “We have our ways.” A pause. “Is that what you want?”

You lift your head a little higher. He doesn’t give you much freedom, but he shifts just enough to help you feel comfortable breathing again. “If that’s what you’re offering, yeah, I wouldn’t be opposed to things ending up there.”

His hand gropes over your ass, fingers diving to tease more sensitive flesh between your legs. “After we… resolve a few things.” He grips tightly, almost cruelly. You agree in a sound that comes out much more high-pitched than you intended as he palms your ass and kneads it boldly. “Like whether you’re ready to start behaving like a good girl now.”

You still can’t bring yourself to just say yes, as hot as his words are making you. But you curl into his hand, just a little. To encourage him.

He growls something in a language you don’t know. It sounds like a curse and his weight is pressed down on you again as he scrambles with your belt, loosening your pants just enough to shove everything off the curve of your hips, baring you to mid-thigh in the ship’s cool air. When he spanks you now it’s sharper, the sting lighting up your tender flesh under every open-palmed strike that just keeps coming and coming. “Rubbing your ass on me does not count as an answer.” Smack. “I want to hear you say it.” Smack. “That you submit.” Smack. “That your ass is mine tonight.” A few involuntary cries squeeze out of your throat before he relents and rubs you again, the leather of his glove singing over your overstimulated skin.

You slow your panting breaths before you speak up, endeavoring to match his even tone. “Maybe I’ll play along for a little while.” You twist further, until you can stare up into his silver mask. “What do you want me to do?”

He pulls back, sitting up on his hip. From the angle of his helmet you’d guess that your answer does not really count as the submission he was looking for. Nor did you mean it to be. Someone’s gonna top you, they’ve got to earn it. Even if they are already, physically, on top of you. His moment of thought ends. “Take off your clothes.”

His hand squeezes at your ass one more time as you shift, like he’s loathe to let go while you comply with his command. You make as quick of work with your boots as you can, then push your bottoms off after them. Mando’s sitting beside you, leaning up against a large cargo crate, helmet fixed on your slowly-revealed body.

You’re so self-conscious that your skin feels like it could be glowing, as you bare it for him inch by inch. There’s nothing to read in that cold helmet, but its angle never wavers, riveted on you.

Once you’ve gotten yourself completely naked, he beckons you to come to him with two curling fingers. It’s amazingly erotic to move toward him with nothing on, while every inch of the Mandalorian warrior is still covered in battle-scarred plates.

He reaches out, palm up for your hand. You place your hand in his and he draws you in, until you’re kneeling right beside him. His fingers trail up your arms, over your shoulders, coaxing you closer. His touch is lighter than you expected. But you can hear him breathing through the mask. He’s struggling to stay this calm. To savor this.

His helmet tips down as his fingers knead harder; he watches himself press and squeeze the flesh of your shoulders, your neck, your jaw. The modulator translates another buzzing hum. Does it fascinate him, to see so much bare and vulnerable skin, when he can show none?

You feel your nipples tighten, a silent craving for contact. This feels good, but you want so much more. You look right into his eye slit. “I won’t break,” you say, twisting yourself tighter into the grip of his hands.

The Mandalorian growls and rises up to his knees, helmet filling your vision as he presses himself close and rakes his fingers down your back. He’s looking down at your panting chest and squeezing your ribs, watching the way your pristine tits are so close to brushing against his dirty metal chestplate. He clutches you in, pressing your belly against his, betraying a desire for closeness that he just can’t achieve.

Your hands come up to his shoulders, burrowing through the cowl wrapped around his collar, trying to make contact. Your fingers curl up the column of his neck, where the thinner fabric lets you feel a hint of his body heat. He stiffens when you come close to the bottom of his helmet.

“Leave it,” he snarls, just as you’re telling him “Don’t worry, I wasn’t—"

He scoops you up tightly and sets you on top of the cargo crate he had been leaning against. Your legs open and wrap around him of their own volition as he presses between them. You cross your ankles underneath his cloak, locking his body in close. You let your hands rest on his shoulders, just inside the pauldrons, but don’t attempt to slide under anything again.

Leather-clad fingers rake up your ribs, dragging up the sides of your body before they close over your breasts. Finally. You arc into him and let your eyes close, feeling the texture of his gloves across sensitive skin, the hungry twisting and tugging against your nipples.

“Open your eyes,” he demands, voice breathy with as much arousal as you’re feeling. “I want you to look at me, keep looking at me, let me see…”

He trails off, but you can guess what he means. Let him see what it feels like to be touched. You tip your chin down and lock your eyes on that T-shaped window in his helmet. His fingers pinch around both your nipples at once and your jaw drops. He tickles around the edges, then grabs up the full swell of your tits and squeezes. Your eyes try to flutter shut; it’s already hard to remember his instruction.

He settles into an entirely delicious rhythm, kneading your peaks, watching every crease of your brow, reading every gasp and twitch of your lip so that he can tweak at your nipples just right, until the pleasure is almost unbearable. You don’t even realize your eyes have fallen closed until his hand disappears from one of your tits and slaps at your cheek.

It’s not hard, just a slight sting, the corrective swat of a playful alpha. “Eyes,” he reminds you, then goes right back to his blissful torture.

Your core is warming almost unbearably. Every tug at your nipples is drawing a tingling line of pleasure right down between your thighs, taking the heat that had already awoken there during your spanking and fanning the flames, until the need for more is almost unbearable. “Mando,” you moan, tilting your hips forward on the crate, “please…”

A pleased little sound comes out of the modulator. “Please what?”

“Urmmm,” you moan at him, twisting your body, trying to scoot your hips a little closer to him. “I need more.”

He responds by pinching your nipples harder, just enough pain to make you gasp and curl. You pout up toward his helmet. “That’s not what I meant.”

“But you like it.” He does it again, and this time you cry out. A stabbing ache deep between your legs reminds you you’re still not getting what you want.

Fingers tickle down your belly, brushing across your inner thighs. Then they slide around behind and pinch you hard on the ass. You wail in frustration.

Mando tips his helmet closer to your face. “Tell me again how I don’t know how to be playful.”

“Fuck!” you cry through gritted teeth.

“Fuck what?”

Your hands scramble down his armored chest, aiming for his belt to just reach down and show him what you want.

“Uh uh.” He grabs your wrists before you can do more than pop the buckle on his utility belt. “Hands stay on my shoulders.”

You immediately comply, too far gone now to be contradictory. “Fuck me, Mando.”

“Oh yeah?” He straightens up a little, his posture cocky as he stands there wrapped in your naked legs. “You ready to say it?”

“I’m yours.” You don’t even hesitate. “Do whatever you want with me.”

He takes his belt the rest of the way off with one hand, lets it drop to the floor. The other hand is busy squeezing your ass, then traveling around your hip. He pushes your legs open a little wider, then his thumbs come running down your inner thighs, pulling at your labia, spreading you even more. You lean back, curling your hips up, to give him a better view.

His breath hisses out from under the helmet. “You want me to fuck this little pussy?”

“Yes,” you moan, as his thumbs stroke up and down, just around its edges.

He pulls you open wider. “You ready to be a good girl, and do exactly as I say?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Exactly,” he repeats, and a ghost of a chill runs down your spine in the midst of all this heat. He takes one of your hands from his shoulder, and turns it palm up near your mouth. “Spit.”

The thumb of his other hand is still sliding up and down next to your opening, not touching your wetness. You appreciate that he’s not about to let his dirty gloves make things unsanitary. You gather up saliva to the front of your mouth and carefully coat your first two fingers.

Mando keeps his grip on your wrist, and pushes your hand down to your entrance as soon as he’s done watching your lips and tongue work over your own fingers.

You smooth the spit over your slit, Mando’s grip still guiding you, making sure you do a thorough job lubricating yourself. His other thumb creeps down over your clit, rocking across it carefully, steadily, his helmet angling back up to watch your face.

It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open against the pleasure of that pressure, finally right where you need it. But you remember his rule. You keep your gaze locked on the beskar as your own fingers find a rhythm underneath his, the gloved hand locked around your wrist urging you to press into yourself deeper, faster, in coordination with his rolling thumb. You find yourself clutching at the back of his neck just to keep your balance as the needy pleasure explodes. “That’s it,” his voice soothes over the modulator, “get yourself ready for me.”

You’re doing more than getting ready. Even just this much touch from him is sending you straight toward a spiraling orgasm, now that all the wild pleasure built up by every slap and struggle and pinch finally has somewhere to go.

He sees it coming, the way your eyelids go tight at the effort to keep them open and looking at him. “Don’t,” he warns. “Save it.”

He stops moving his thumb, though he doesn’t release its pressure. He swirls your hand inside of yourself one last time before drawing it out, then setting it back onto his shoulder in line with the other one.

You can’t help but roll your hips against his thumb while Mando starts loosening his own clothing. You want to call him cruel when he removes that hand too, bringing it up to caress your neck, but you have no ability to talk back anymore. Especially when his fingers curl up underneath your jaw. “Now. The most important thing.” You can feel him pulling himself out of his pants, though he’s brought his body in closer and you can’t see that far with your head tilted up in his hand like this. “Don’t look down.” His fingers squeeze tighter around your jaw, the heel of his hand pressing into the top of your throat. “If you look, I’ll have to kill you.”

He could be exaggerating, just to make this hotter for you, more intense, but you remember what he said to some over-curious bitch at Karga’s tavern once. No living thing has seen me without my helmet. Apparently The Way is preserved if violators quickly become only the formerly living.

“Yes,” you say quickly, voicebox buzzing against his wrist, words mumbling together against the unrelenting pressure in his fingers, “I understand.”

A few more quick movements down where you can’t see, and then you feel something warm and thick pressing up against your core. You both moan together as he slides his head up and down your slick folds, only fumbling a little before he finds his aim. Fuck. This is what you’ve been craving. You brace yourself against the cargo crate as best you can, squeezing your legs around him to invite him in.

You think you're ready to take him, but you're not. He crushes in bigger and wider than you’re used to, and you wail up into that impassive beskar face and try in vain to remember how to relax and take a dick like this one.

His breath is catching in little straining grunts; apparently this is pretty overwhelming for him, too. When he’s halfway in he removes his guiding hand from his own shaft and returns his thumb to your clit; that helps. The more familiar pleasure of his pressure helps melt your walls into the stretch of him. “You’re so. Fucking. Tight.” His hand never wavers on your jaw as he starts to pump, in and out, getting a little bit deeper into you with every thrust, groaning a little louder with every inch he gains.

Fuck. This position has every muscle in your body straining, which is probably why it’s so hard for him to fit in, but you don’t even care because the intensity of it is everything that you’ve been craving. “Fuck—” he adjusts his grip just a fraction, so you can talk a little easier, “fuck me just how you want, Mando, I can take it.”

He groans and takes his thumb off your clit, bringing that big hand around to grab onto your hip and brace you for a wilder pace. You only bemoan the loss of his thumb for a second, because the new angle slides his cock against a wicked spot deeper inside you.

“Ahh!” you wail, and wrap your arms tighter around his neck, needing him to hold you up as he fucks up into you at an angle that destroys the precarious balance you had been maintaining on the edge of this cargo crate. His controlling grip on your neck is choking you just a little, a sensation so erotic that you can feel your impending orgasm sizzle and tighten all around his cock the more you focus on it. “Mando, I—Can I?” you pant, your face so close that your breath is fogging up the beskar.

“Yes, fucking come for me,” he orders, then presses into you harder, his grip momentarily cutting off your airway completely. A second later your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks, spasming every muscle in your core, your thighs, in your silent, breathless chest, and Mando just keeps fucking you through it all.

As soon as the heel of his hand slides off your throat you’re screaming through your teeth, the sound bouncing along with his thrusts. His pace is relentless until your orgasm finally peaks, and the stiffness of your body starts to melt against him. You realize that you’ve wrapped your arms fully around his helmet, getting as close as his controlling grip on your jaw would allow.

His pace slows, but it does not stop. From the aching deep inside your belly, you know that he’s still fully hard, just giving you a brief moment to recover yourself.

You sigh into the side of his head, a long, lovely sound. Your body shivers with aftershocks around his solid shaft, keeping your pleasure brimming, not letting it fade. That hand controlling your jaw pushes you back, gently, until he can see your face again.

His grip spasms on your ass. He must like what he sees. “Close your eyes.” You do, and he starts to pull away. “Keep them closed. I’m turning you over.”

You unlock your ankles from behind his back as he draws his length out of your body, both of you gasping and shuddering as he withdraws. Your legs come down to the ground rather stiffly, and you’re glad of the way he manhandles you along, until you’re bending over the crate with your thighs pressed into its edge. You’re not sure your legs would have held you up without his help.

Mando wastes no time lining his cock back up again. You hold onto the edges of the cargo crate as he presses in eagerly. A gasp rips from your throat as your head lifts up in an involuntary bend of your back; this position lets him drive in deeper, forcing you to adjust to his size all over again.

A split second after your head comes up, Mando’s fingers squeeze through your hair at the base of your skull, using that grip to hold you steady and facing forward. You really weren’t trying to turn and look, but you suppose he can’t risk it. He keeps control of your head, pulling your hair a little in time to his thrusts, as he groans out a deep, pleasured sound. You give voice to how you’re feeling, too, letting little sobbing moans spill out in time to his insistent thrusts. He can’t see your face anymore, and you barely have the leverage to move your hips against him, so this is the only way to keep the connection.

“Oh, keep making those sounds,” Mando pants, then the modulator keeps crackling with more of his soft grunts as he plumbs your depths. “You take me so good.” When he flattens his hips against your ass it definitely hurts; he’s reached the end of you, and is trying to stretch past it, deep inside. But even that pain is erotic; you wail and submit under his praise and his smothering need.

His grunts and his thrusts both start coming faster, and just as you fear that you’re hitting your limit, that you can’t take any more, some new dimension of release and submission open up inside you, and all that suffering transforms into a pleasure so fierce that your walls are clenching and your mind is wiped by an orgasm that turns the rest of your body to jelly.

When your mind clears you find your cheek flush to the surface of the cargo crate. Mando’s hand is pressing it there, with his fingers wrapped across your eyes, and he’s groaning through his teeth as he smashes himself as deep into your body as he can get. He shudders and bucks, roaring through his orgasm, the modulator translating the sound with an almost musical edge.

When he’s done he sags partially on top of you, his belly resting on your hips while his arms keep his chestplate from digging into your back. His cock is keeping you plugged, a thick presence that makes you feel stretched even when it’s going soft. One of his hands is still resting over your eyes, but all the tension has gone out of it. You wonder if he’d feel the flicker of your eyelashes against his glove if your lids accidentally parted. You keep them closed.

He hums, fingertips running softly up your back. You wonder if he’s looking down, admiring your bare skin once again. Your entire body is thrumming, the satisfaction spreading to every muscle fiber. You know things will feel awkward soon, but for now you really don’t want to move.

Eventually Mando pulls himself gently out of you. A spurt of warm liquid follows, running thickly down your leg. Fuck, how backed up was he?

“Don’t move,” he warns, lifting his body up off of yours.

You give him a contented little murmur and stay perfectly relaxed. “Eyes still shut,” you reassure him. You’re not even annoyed at the lack of trust these constant reminders might convey. This is something he has to control strictly. Certainly it’s a great privilege that he even took the risk with you. You listen to his footsteps retreat and return, as you lay draped over the cargo crate and enjoy the bliss that is only just beginning to fade.

“You can open them now,” he says softly once he’s standing over you again. One hand slides over your ass, pausing at a spot that feels surprisingly sensitive. “I’ve given you a welt or two here.”

“Souvenir,” you grin up at him, twisting your spine while keeping your hips relaxed under his hand. “Thanks.”

Mando nods his helmet back at you. He’s got a cloth in his other hand, dampened from the fresher, and he wipes up the mess he’s left between your legs with careful, steady dabs. “I should be the one thanking you,” he says softly, maybe even a little awkwardly. “That was…”

“Overdue?” you quip, as he’s wiping all the way down to your ankle to clean up the enormous load he had for you.

“Maybe just a little.” He steps away to trade the towel for a thin, precisely-folded blanket, which he shakes out and spreads over you. You stand up in his arms as he does, guiding him to wrap it around your shoulders. You hold it tight and lean in toward him for a snug embrace. The blanket makes pressing your bare body against his armored plating much more comfortable. “Come here,” he mutters, and draws you to sit on the floor with him, leaning up against the cargo crate and each other. Even the afterglow of wild sex with the Mandalorian doesn’t make his spare ship any less uncomfortable, but you focus on the way his arm holds you tucked in tight against his body, the way you can feel him breathing against your ribs.

“That was good,” you breathe.

“Yeah.”

You lean your head tentatively against his shoulder, wondering how much intimacy he’s going to allow now. His arm shifts, helping you get more comfortable, and his thumb is dragging back and forth, idly, along the top of your thigh.

There’s one question you have to ask.

“Would you really have had to kill me, if I looked?”

He holds his breath for a moment, then lets it blow out with a soft glottal sound. “Most Mandalorians would. But honestly? To me, that wouldn’t have made a difference. Even if you didn’t live to tell the tale, my honor would still be smirched. I’d know I’d failed a central tenet, and from every day after I’d be living a lie.”

Your brow creases, and you turn to look up at him even though you can’t read his face. That was kriffing serious. “So it’s not just about the helmet.”

His beskar mask nods. “Not the way I was raised.”

You turn your gaze away, idly looking across the cargo bay. “Wow.” You’d never seen him not covered head to toe, and you never would.

“But I think…” he trails off as his hands burrow under your blanket, coming around to meet each other in front of your belly and fumbling with something. “I think this is acceptable.” His hand finds one of yours, and air rushes into your chest in a silent, measured gasp as you realize the fingers winding between yours are his, warm skin, completely bared to the wrist.

You sit together in silence for a long time, feeling the twin pulses of living palms pressed together, the small twitches of muscle and the sparkle of nerve endings when a finger softly strokes across the back of a hand. The more you imagine how much this must mean to him, the more it means to you, until your head is spinning and you can barely handle the intimacy of the kind of touch you’ve always taken simply for granted.

You’re afraid to ask what this means. This whole encounter was so unplanned; you don’t even know what you want from the Mandalorian, much less what he wants from you. Is he doing this just because of the afterglow rush of soft hormones, or does he think you and he could be something more?

And when you feel awkward, you talk. People skills, remember? You squeeze his hand and restart an old conversation. “Told you we make a good team.”

He grunts.

Maybe you should just shut up and enjoy the cuddle. But his non-answer does not help your racing mind to still. The urge to tease him starts taking over again. “You know, we’re still not done negotiating that split.”

Mando groans softly. “The only split I want to think about is how far I can split open your legs.”

A new thrill runs up your spine, but you stay on track with only a small giggle escaping your throat. “How about we round it back up to sixty percent for me, and as soon as that big dick can get hard again, I’ll throw on a blindfold and give you the best head you ever had in your life.”

Mando’s fingers card through yours, and his other hand comes up to play with your hair. “Tempting.” There’s a rumble deep in his throat that makes your aching cunt tighten. “But let’s just call it 50-50, and we can fuck all the way to Nevarro.”

Part Two here

My Mando Smut Masterlist

Taglist: @mabelleen​ @lokiaddicted​ @aethersghoulette​ @nolivingthingdroid​ @pinkmoontribe-blog​ @baar-ur​ @otherthingsinhead​ @biolo-tea @greendragonzz @aesikupills​ @of-narwhals-and-ink​ @doubtedbus409​ @kittyatemytaco​ @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @space-princesssss @okilover02 @debonaire-princess @myfruitgummies  @pinstripeninja13 @taman-a @mandowhoreian @cptnbvcks​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings @soapjay @otherthingsinhead @onebatch--twobatch @lilwickedred @mabelleen @stardancerluv @naiomiwinchester @equalstrashflavoredtrash @laketaj24 @themaskismyface @pascallorian​ @shadowfoxey​ @thatkidofwarandpeace​ @pokeasleepingsmaug​ @anniemar​

[lxstfulbeans]

May I request Dio, joseph, and mama bruno headcanons of them having a crush on black reader but they don’t know how to approach them? Thank uuu!🥺👉🏾👈🏾

I’ll be doing part 2 Jospeh! But, I know I looooove some Brunoooo!

HEADCANON: having a crush on black reader, can’t figure out the right approach.

---3. 2. 1. ACTION!---

DIO [Modern Era]:

Him? Dio? Having a cRuSh?

AND not knowing how to fuckin’ talk to you?

Oh hell no.

Surely, he had done something UTTERLY evil. like the mf-ing bully he is.

Like being fake as shit towards some people which you could obviously smell the bullshit from a mile away, thinking he was doin sum.

When he saw that concerned, almost bothered look on your face, he knew he was fucking up.

You were too beautiful, too PERFECT. He had to have you to himself.

He started to send gifts to your house, sometimes to your workplace. Hoping that would rIgHtfUlLy earn your affections.

They were flattering but, you almost saw it as cowardly that he didn’t just— approach you on his own??

Like bitch tf is you scared for- 💀

The time finally came for him to ask you out, about fuckin’ time though-

Dio stopped by your house, definitely at the worst time though.

It was the early morning, your day off especially. You were so irritated when you heard a loud ass POUNDING at yo door.

In your bonnet, tank top, and pink pajama bottoms, you stomped to the door to see who it was.

“It is I, Dio!”

You wanted to punch him, if he wasn’t so damn cute with his little bouquet of roses and a basket of your favorite snacks.

“Lately, I’ve been told that sending those precious gifts.. isn’t quite the way to earn your love. Now I, Dio, wish to take you out for dinner tonight!”

You couldn’t help but snicker. This was oddly cute yet so damn dumb for someone so cunning.

Without another word, you jump to press a kiss to his cheek before taking the new gifts.

“Aight then. Pick me up tonight. But, don’t just pull up without tellin’ a bitch. Got me out here lookin’ crazy!”

After that, y’all have been a power couple ever since. He definitely likes to show you off.

Joseph Joestar [1939]:

This goofy ass- 💀

He’s a well-known flirt, but he definitely had his sights set on you!

Trust me, he’s seen plenty of beautiful women but BABY-

He was definitely feeling that Cupid’s arrow piercing his heart when he first saw you.

The two of you were introduced through Smokey, who was your childhood friend at the time.

You couldn’t thank Joseph enough for helping him out with those bogus cops.

You two became friends very quickly.

Although the two of you would hang out 95% of the time, it didn’t stop the trouble that often came by.

He was always down to fight for you or do some goofy shit to make you smile.

But, he was so scared of asking you out.

It wasn’t because of the people, fuck them.

But, it was because he thought he wouldn’t be good enough for you. That he’d crash before the journey even started.

He often flexed when you were around, was more flirty with you more than others, and even lent his big ass jacket when you were chilly.

You’d often pick up on his advances, his hard crush on you not so much of a secret anymore.

When the time came that he actually decided to ask you out, best believe that he went all out for you when he came to your house one night.

I’m talking suit and tie, limo ride, buying you hella gifts.

“[Y/N]!! Ever since I’ve laid eyes on you, I knew you had to be mine! Come on a date with me!”

This had to be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen this boy do. How could you say no? Especially after he delivered the full package!

You chuckled as you thought about your answer, your cheeks hot.

“Okay boy. Lemme get ready!”

You’ve never seen a more wide smile as he jumped for joy, almost messing up his suit.

When y’all started dating, he never failed to make you smile. Even when he’d annoy the shit outta you, you couldn’t stay mad at the fool.

Bruno Bucciarati:

This has got to be my FAVORITE character of part 5 kakldlfmfnwjwkf— DAFUQ IS HE SO FOINE FORRR 💀 😭

Okay, okay. Let’s say that you joined Passione for XYZ reason and you were assigned to Bruno’s team.

You meet everybody at the restaurant and best believe that my boy is in complete AWE.

Sure, he was aware of another stand user who passed that DUMBASS lighter test- But, he ain’t expect a fine queen to be stuck with his rowdy ass team.

He couldn’t even count the millions of times where he bonked Mista in the head for flirting with you nonstop when he was questioning you, even going to the point where he zipped that mofo mouth shut.

Like on god, let him SPEAK- 🗣

Everyone, except you, had the idea that he had a little crushy crush on you because of how gentle and guiding he was towards you.

He was a true gentleman, praising you for hard work, even stared at and admired your beauty for a long period of time without realizing nor with you looking.

He was definitely attracted to how determined, headstrong, and smart you were. Whenever the team got into a pickle, you knew just how to get ‘em out.

Whenever you two hung out, he’d take you on tours, go on walks with you, maybe even go to dinner every now and then. Everytime you stared at an item you really wanted but couldn’t get because of expenses, he’d secretly buy it and drop it off at your doorstep for you to find. But, he loved golden hour.

When the sun was setting and it hit your skin just right, glowing from that precious light. He could feel his heart pound, coming to terms with his feelings for you.

There weren’t any missions or anything like that, so he took this opportunity to take you on a boat ride. He wanted this confession to be perfect, no distractions.

As the sun was setting, he basically got a promise ring. His heart racing as anxiety set in, what if you rejected him? He wouldn’t know unless he shot that shot.

“[Y/N], not only have you been pleasant to work and fight alongside with, you’ve been such a darling friend. Your smile shines brighter than stars, your skin glows so beautifully in the setting sun. You make me feel so alive, bella. Please, be mine.. your heart will be treasure in my hands.”

Okay, you had to admit. That was so poetic ass shit right there, you couldn’t help but feel sudden warmth in your cheeks as you stared at him.

He was fine ass hell, a goddamn gentleman, the nicest man in Italy, AND had some power?

Yep, he had you.

With a giggling nod, a smile of relief comes to his face as he slides the promise ring on. Shit, y’all were already official but he might as well put an ACTUAL ring on it.

“Damn! This must’ve cost some real cash money... I don’t think I can ever get used to you spoiling me, Bruno.”

Before the ride was over, best believe that he took tons of pictures of you while the sun was still making you glow.

[forlornmelody]

Resurrection Day

Rating: M (just a lot of angst, really. Character death, some graphic violence, and an afterglow moment)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: Jayrose, RedArse, 

Linkage: Ao3

Summary:   The Outlaws have always had a funny relationship with death, but when one of their own dies, they try to rise from their mistakes.

Note:  Idk if this is a fic, or more my headcanons strung together. Enjoy? 

-*-*

“Do you ever regret it?” 

Jason only half-hears her, his eyelids heavy, and his body so relaxed with release that he might never move again. “Mm?” he mumbles, pulling his body through quicksand so he can lay on his side and face her. 

Rose’s skin still glistens in the evening light, her hair mussed, and her face flushed. Her voice still throaty from moaning and screaming that Jason’s too busy reliving those last straining moments he almost doesn’t hear her again. “Do you ever regret...coming back?”

Pushing himself onto his elbows, Jason gazes down at her with a crooked grin. “To Gotham? Only when Bruce breathes down my neck.”

Snorting, Rose stretches one arm above her head, and her chest rises towards him in a way that makes him suck in his breath. Focus. She won’t meet his eyes, and her lips keep forming words she doesn't speak. “No, I mean. Do you regret being brought back?” The warmth in Jason’s belly turns to ice. 

It’s all too easy to remember that god-awful laugh, and the red haze in his vision, and the blood in his eyes. The searing pain of each blow, and the ache every time he tries to breathe. The numbness that settles in when he reaches the door and finds it locked--when he hears the egg timer on Joker’s signature bomb. 

Remembering what came after is harder. Running out of air. So much water, but it’s thicker than water, and he can’t get to the surface fast enough. Screaming. So much screaming. Is he screaming? Everyone’s trying to kill him. He can’t get out. He can’t get out. He can’t.

“Jason?” Rose only says his name when she’s worried. She squeezes his shoulder, digging her nails into his skin until his vision clears. “Shit. Sorry.” Sighing in frustration, she looks away. “Didn’t mean to bring all that back.”

Leaning his forehead against hers, Jason tries to get his breathing under control like his shrink taught him, but it’s easier said than done, and he fears the moment lost by the time he does. He tries to turn it into a joke, to lighten the mood. “That’s like asking if I regret being alive.” Jason huffs a laugh, but it falls flat. 

Rose bites her lip so hard Jason half-expects it to bleed. She looks up at him as if she’s confessing to murder. Sorry, Asshole, I fucked up again. Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. “I was there, you know.”

Jason’s eyes widen. “At the Lazarus Pit?” And there he is, again. Drowning. 

“Yeah.” She swallows, and the next part comes out thick. “I was the one who told Ra’s Al Ghul where to find your body. He let me watch, as a thank you.”

Nowhere in that haze of memory does Jason recall seeing Rose, and that it is a whole new betrayal. “Where?” He sucks in a breath. “When?”

“Guess you weren’t happy to see me.” She snorts. “You tried to kill me. Well. Everyone, really. But you were fixated on me.” Rose looks at him, finally. “Thaila had to pull you off me before I stopped self-healing altogether.”

“And then you...left?” He’s angry, as if he has any right to be. Jason probably would’ve done the same given the circumstances. 

Rose nods. “And the All-Caste offered to take you in, fix you right up. Guess it worked.” A small smile sneaks onto her lips. But it doesn’t reach her eyes. 

One of Jason’s first clear memories of that time--a lonely night in his cell in The Chamber of All. Wondering what happened to her. If she had died right along with him and hadn’t been brought back. Being so angry when he got back to Gotham and she apparently had a life of her own. His memories of her, after, are a little less clear. But the distant look in her eyes tells him all he needs to know. 

----

“Dude, don’t be so hard on her.” Roy polishes off yet another hot dog, licking his fingers. 

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Jason kicks his heels against the edge of the rooftop. He reaches for one of the polish sausages, but his stomach gurgles in protest. Maybe not, then. 

“You’ve no idea what she went through to get you back.” He turns to look at him, with those hazel eyes lingering on Jason in a way that always leaves him feeling, well, naked. Which shouldn’t be an issue right? Roy’s seen him naked plenty of times after a mission. There’s only one shower, and that apartment has one tiny ass water heater. Showering together only makes sense? At least there’s room for the both of them, just barely. It often turns into a game of Twister mixed with hot yoga. And like, there’s never been any problem, yeah? 

But sometimes the way Jason catches Roy staring at him. Makes him wonder. 

If he wants to stare back.

Just every once in a while. 

“Like what?” They really shouldn’t have bought the entire foodcart’s stock so the Old Man Gerasimos “Jerry” Angelos could head home early. This is way too much food, even with Roy’s bottomless stomach. 

“Maybe you should ask her sometime.” 

“Nah, I’m good.” Jason licks his fingers. “It’s easier to not talk about it at all.”

Roy laughs. “Ah, just like how you don’t talk about stuff with anyone else?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jason gives him a playful look, but the look on Roy’s face stops him short. 

Roy doesn’t answer. He reaches over instead, wiping the mustard that got caught on the side of his mouth. His fingers are so unbelievably warm, like he’s made of fire and not skin. And Jason aches when he pulls away abruptly. 

“I uh, I just remembered that my laundry’s sitting in the washer. Probably stinks already.” Roy rushes off, not even bothering to wipe his fingers on a napkin. 

“It always stinks, Harper!” Jason roars after him, but his friend has already shut the door. 

Roy dies two days later.

------

“Would you be angry if I--we brought Roy back?” They’re on a rooftop, They’ve been waiting here for hours for Valentino’s men to show, and still nothing. Not all the Tuesday tacos in the world can make the night any less stale. Rose is on her fifth one when she gets philosophical.

Jason snorts. “You say that like it’s possible.”

Rose doesn’t say anything, and that’s what scares him.

“It’s not,” he says, louder.

“Why not?” She wipes quac from the corner of her mouth, staring at the rooftop across the street as if Roy’s gonna pop out of the skylight any second. “We brought you back.”

She can’t be serious. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t know what it’s like, Rose.”

Rose deadpans at him, her lips tight and firm. “I don’t?”

Jason thinks back to the first time he found her. Her right arm bent backward, her left cradling a wound that had bled out next to her. How her eyes stared out at nothing. Someone had pressed the mute button on the universe, except for the thud of his own heart. He should call someone. Bruce, 911, anyone, but his hands won’t move.  “Right, sorry.” 

It’s a terrible idea, they both know that, but the thought keeps eating away at him. Every time Jason lets his mind wander, it wanders to Roy--his crooked smile, his careless lean--the clumsiness that shouldn’t belong to a world-class archer, but it does. The headquarters seems so empty without Roy in it--so cavernous yet so claustrophobic like it’s going to eat Jason alive. 

-----

Three days later Rose is roundhouse kicking a punching bag when Jason finds her. “We can’t use the Lazarus Pit.”

 Rose stumbles, missing the bag completely and tumbling to the floor. “The fuck, Jason!” For someone who sees the future, Rose certainly didn’t hear this coming. 

Jason helps her up. “We can’t use the Lazarus Pit. I don’t want Roy going through what I did.” He meets her eyes. “What we did.” 

Rose nods, still breathless and annoyed in a way that makes him want to smother her with kisses. “You got another idea?” Jason swallows, squeezing the hand he’s still holding. “Jason?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know your HLA markers, would you?”

“My what?”

----

 Rose hates going to the doctor. It’s rarely a problem--her regeneration usually prevents her from getting sick, and her injuries hardly last long enough. But she’s been around enough mad scientists that she practically glares holes into the nurse when he brings out the needle. 

“Don’t kill him and maybe I’ll give you a lollipop afterward.” Jason elbows her other arm.

“A lollipop is not what I want to be sucking right now,” Rose fires back, looking at him instead of the needle. She relaxes slightly, and Jason kisses her, brushing her hair behind her ear.

The nurse coughs. “Alright. Easy in--and done.”

Rose swallows, taking in a deep breath. “Finally.” She closes her eyes, then stands up, rushing for the door.

Jason pauses in the doorframe, looking back at the nurse. “Uh, keep us posted.”

“We’ll call.”

----

It’s a stupid idea. The morgue doesn’t even understand why Jason Todd, adopted son of Billionaire Bruce Wayne wants to keep Roy Harper’s body in their freezer, especially when Oliver Queen seems to want it cremated as soon as possible. Bribing the owner doesn’t even work--not with Queen’s fortune also in play. So, Rose concocts some dumbass story about Harper’s biological family coming in from out of town. It’s so crazy that both Queen and the mortician fall for it. 

Both Jason and Rose hold their breath when his phone rings. And Rose, and her fucking precognition, hugs him tight and fucking squeals before the nurse even says it “It’s a match.”

---

“Nervous?” Jason sits next to her, squeezing her hand as the scientist hooks the catheter tube to a vein in Roy’s chest. Jason has a hard time looking at his body, so he focuses on Rose instead. 

“Fucking terrified.” Rose laughs humorously. 

“Trust me, if they try anything I’ll shoot them myself.”

“You know I can hear you, right?”

-----

Rose isn’t sure what’s more surprising, the gleam in Roy’s eyes like he just woke up from a nap, or the desperate kiss Jason gives him when he takes his first breath. Or maybe it’s not surprising at all. She should have known from the way Roy always seemed to be in Jason’s thoughts--he always had a convincing lie, and maybe Rose wanted to believe him. Maybe she should feel angry--betrayed, even, but all she feels is relief.

Finally, Jason remembers they’re not alone, and he breaks off from sucking Roy’s face, his face as red as Roy’s hair. 

Roy, on other hand, is not surprised at all. “Missed me that much, huh?”