#i also bruised my shins but that's the awkwardness of trying to pull around a collapsible cart while pushing a grocery cart in store

[softgrungeprophet]

i injured my wrist walking like a mile dragging a granny cart full of pumpkins (and milk) 😩 (this is both a wrist i already have problems in cause of a past job + amusingly my non dominant hand)

actually i think this is a combo of me typing way way way too much the past two months + dragging a heavy and unergonomic cart home like that.

regardless of the exact cause, i can say confidently: oww wrist hurty

[pies-writes-and-more]

covered in bruises

word count: 2,611

pairing: tsukishima kei x fem!reader

warnings: brief mentions of blood, nosebleeds, bruises, and scuffs/cuts, also a bitchy ex-boyfriend who sucks and shares some private pics. also some swearing cause it’s me (but i promise it’s fluffy!!!)

a/n: i genuinely have no clue where this idea came from but I’m a sucker for partners taking care of each other after a fight or something so tadah. thank you to @satan-ruler-of-hells for helping me with the ending and @thisnoodlewritesao3 for helping me with the title! i hope you guys enjoy!

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A few years ago, if you had told Y/N Y/L/N that she would be answering a phone call in the dead of night from Yamaguchi, she probably would’ve guessed that the two of them had forgotten about some project they were supposed to complete and the pair would’ve spent all night working on it while Tsukishima slept peacefully knowing he had finished it.

What Y/N never guessed on happening was Tsukishima stumbling through her front door, only barely being held up by Yamaguchi, the blond’s face covered in scuff marks and blood dripping from his nose and lips.

“What the hell happened?” Y/N gaped, immediately rushing to Tsukishima’s other side and helping him into the kitchen.

“Don’t even get me started,” Yamaguchi grumbled, muttering something about keeping your mouth shut and never would’ve gotten into this mess.

“Stop grumbling. I’m fine. You’re fine. Everyone’s fine,” Tsukishima huffed, pushing the two of them off but swaying a little.

“Tsukishima Kei, what the hell happened to you? You look like you got into a fight!” Y/N stared at him for a moment, watching as his gaze flickered away from hers. She glanced at Yamaguchi, as if hoping that would bring some answers, but he just glared at Tsukishima as well. “I’ll get the first aid kit,” she said after a beat of silence, walking to the other room.

There was a flurry of hushed whispers as she left, Yamaguchi insisting to Tsukishima that he needed to tell her what was going and Tsukishima being blatantly stupid and insisting that there was in fact, nothing going on.

By the time that Y/N returned, hands filled with some spare tissues and bandages, sprays and cotton balls, Yamaguchi had thrown up his hands in the air in exasperation, “I give up. I brought him this far. He’s your problem now,” he groaned, shaking his head towards Y/N. “I’m sorry for dumping him on you, but maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

Y/N and Tsukishima watched as Yamaguchi stormed off, leaving both of them in an awkward silence.

“Are you going to stand there or are you going to help me?” Tsukishima grumbled after a bit, sitting down on a nearby dining chair. 

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, part of her wanting to smack him in the head but thinking better of it considering his injuries. “Here, hold this to your nose,” she insisted, handing him the tissues as she glanced over his body. From what she could see, the most damage was on his face but if he could keep his nosebleed in order, she could tend to the scrapes and cuts that were starting to bleed on his knuckles.

Pulling up a chair next to him, Y/N sprayed some hydrogen peroxide onto his knuckles. Tsukishima inhaled sharply, pulling away from her grip as he winced, “What the hell is that?” He glared at her, trying not to make it obvious just how much that fucking hurt.

“Give me your fucking hands, Kei,” Y/N demanded, holding her hands out with another vicious look. “You gotta spray them before they get all infected.”

The boy hesitated before slowly letting her hands take his, bracing himself this time as she dabbed away the blood and finally wrapped it up in some medical bandages. “I’ll get you something cold for your nose, hang on,” she mumbled, shuffling to the freezer and digging through to find something helpful.

Tsukishima shifted awkwardly, trying to glance around at anything else so he didn’t have to sit in the silence. “Are you not going to ask?” He muttered out finally, avoiding her eyes as he checked to see how much his nose was still bleeding.

“How about I assume it was something stupid?” she quipped, bringing over a cold ice pack. “Here, I use this sometimes when my muscles hurt after swimming practice.”

He nodded slowly, placing it over his nose in hopes of bringing down any swelling. Now that he was sitting here and his adrenaline was going down, everything was starting to ache a lot more.

“It wasn’t stupid,” Tsukishima murmured, glancing at her for a moment. 

Y/N laughed a bit, shaking her head, “Sure it wasn’t.”

Tsukishima frowned tightly, watching her as she cleaned him up. Her fingers delicately working along his skin, checking for any other cuts or scrapes along his arm. “Why would it be something stupid?”

“Because, the Tsukishima Kei that I grew up with only fought with snarky comebacks and sneers,” Y/N laughed a bit at the memories, glancing up at him and brushing her fingers along the cut on his eyebrow. 

“Wouldn’t that mean that if I had to punch someone, it would be something serious?”

The girl couldn’t contain her laughter anymore, thinking about this string bean of a boy throwing hands, “You punched someone? It kinda just looks like you got used as a punching bag.”

“Hey, it was 3 to 1. And I left some pretty good cuts on them too, thank you very much,” Tsukishima groaned a bit as Y/N dabbed a bit of the peroxide on his eyebrow, swatting at her hand, “Okay okay. I think it’s clean now!”

“So if one of these gets infected, will you be bitching like a little baby then too?” She shot back, smacking his hand away from hers. “How’s your nose?”

Tsukishima pulled the tissues and cold pack away from his face, letting Y/N examine him, “Well, I don’t think it’s broken so you’ll probably be fine. Just don’t take a volleyball to the face anytime soon.”

He just rolled his eyes as she went to start a kettle, insisting that tea was good for healing. 

“If I asked what it was about would you be honest?” Y/N questioned as she brought over two cups of tea.

“Would you believe me if I said they had just such punchable faces?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, kicking at his shin from under the table and making him whine a bit more, “Hey! I’m bruised all over the place!”

“Tell me what happened! Yamaguchi thought I should know so why shouldn’t I know?”

Tsukishima just looked away, fingers drumming along the mug that was warming his hands. “Just... some dude doing some dumb shit. Saying stupid things about...”

“About?”

“About you.”

Y/N stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Tsukishima wasn’t exactly the number one best example of a friend. And it wasn’t like there weren’t people before who didn’t like her. There were bound to be people saying shit.

“What did they say? Do I know them?” She asked finally, thinking back about the list of people she had in her head who definitely didn’t like her.

“It doesn’t matter, they were just being idiots,” Tsukishima tried to insist, sipping at his tea. “I was just annoyed and so I called them out for it. And the one guy took a swing at me. Then we just... did what guys do, I dunno.”

“Is Yamaguchi okay?” Y/N’s eyes widened, looking at her front doors as if the boy would magically still be there. “Did he get hurt?”

“No way. If anything, Yamaguchi probably broke the one guy’s nose,” Tsukishima snickered, thinking back to the moment where one of the dudes crumpled up in pain after Yams smacked him around. 

Y/N nodded slowly, reminding herself to text the boy later and make sure he was alright. “You’re really not gonna tell me what they said?”

Tsukishima stretched his legs out slightly, getting more comfortable in the seat and avoided her eyes some more, as if pretending she hadn’t said anything. But the awkwardness exuding from him was very evident. “He just... said something about you being average... but still kept showing off these stupid pictures,” he finally muttered out, ears going red.

Y/N felt her heart drop a little. She didn’t need to hear anything more than pictures to know that her fucking ex-boyfriend was the one who was causing all this trouble. She had so many regrets about that relationship, and one of them was the photos that she had sent.

“I deleted them,” Tsukishima commented after glancing at her expression. “When I knocked him down I grabbed his phone and deleted them. I dunno if he has other copies somewhere but...”

Y/N practically threw herself across the table, wrapping the string bean boy into a hug. There was such a relief off of her shoulders, just knowing that Tsukishima had tried to get rid of them.

He grunted in response, pulling her closer into a hug but also shifting her weight around so it wasn’t on his side (which hurt like a bitch). “Stop doing stupid things for boys who are too dumb to realize what they have,” he commented, flicking her head.

She gave a little laugh, hugging him tighter for a moment before pulling away, “Yea yea... Does that mean I should stop taking care of you all the time?”

Tsukishima’s lips made a few protesting sounds, huffing before finally standing up and stretching. “I should get going. I don’t want you to stay up too late or you’ll be yawning all day tomorrow in math.”

Y/N smacked his arm a little making him wince a bit, which just made her laugh, “Go on then. Try to take a shower and ice your bruises. And next time you beat up my ex-boyfriend, call me so I can take a swing at him too.”

Tsukishima smirked and nodded, heading to the front door and slipping his shoes on. 

“Hey Tsukishima?”

He glanced back at her, surprised to find the nervous look on her face. She shifted on her feet for a moment before reaching up and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, “I mean it. Thank you.”

Tsukishima burst into a fit of stammers, insisting that it wasn’t that big of a deal and she shouldn’t make it into one, but his cheeks were glowing red while he waved it away.

The next day at school, Y/N couldn’t help but smirk when her eyes landed on her black-eyed and scuffed up ex-boyfriend. For a string bean, apparently Tsukishima was pretty good at landing punches. Maybe it was the snarky expression on her face, or maybe it was just because she had walked by, but before Y/N could rush past him, her ex-boyfriend stepped in front of her, glowering down at her. 

“Get out of my way, asshole,” Y/N huffed, stepping back slightly.

“You know, I always knew there was something going on with you and Four Eyes,” her ex told her in a low voice, arms crossed in front of his chest. “I should’ve known you were cheating on me.”

“Right, I cheated on you and then broke up with you for cheating on me,” Y/N raised an eyebrow up at him. “Get lost, idiot. I don’t have time for you.”

“You’re saying you weren’t seeing him behind my back? That it’s not suspicious that you two immediately started going out after we broke up?” His voice was raising, causing all the students nearby to glance in their direction, whispers filling the space around them.

“We aren’t going out,” Tsukishima’s voice thudded into the air, his heavy arm flopping onto Y/N’s shoulders. He patted her head gently as he gave her a simple smile before turning his glare onto the dude in front of him. “I didn’t ask her out when you two broke up. But if she’ll have me, I can do it here and now in front of you?” 

The offer stunned everyone around them, even the whispering bunches of teens who had come around to see if these two bruised and beaten up boys would end up fighting again. Y/N looked up at Tsukishima with wide eyes, heart palpitating against her chest.

“I knew you liked her,” her ex scoffed. “Too bad she’s too good for you.”

“Well if she settled for the likes of you, I must have a pretty decent shot. I might not be the best boyfriend material, but at least I know not to talk shit about a girl like Y/N,” Tsukishima snapped back. His eyes finally met Y/N’s and she had to wonder for a moment if he was being serious or just saying this to show up the asshole in front of them. 

“There’s no way she would go out with you-” the asshole glared at the two of them.

“Yes,” Y/N breathed out softly, both Asshole and Tsukishima’s eyes falling on her. “Ask me.”

Tsukshima’s usually scowling lips turned into a smile, patting her head and ruffling up her hair slightly, “Go out with me.”

Y/N nodded with a smile, still searching his eyes for any sign that this was a genuine interaction. 

“Finally,” Yamaguchi huffed from behind the two of them, grinning widely as they all turned to look at him. “The two of you look good together. Now hurry up, we’re going to be late to class.”

Tsukishima grabbed Y/N’s hand before she or her ex could say anything, pulling her ahead as they followed Yams to class.

“W-Wait, Tsukishima,” Y/N stopped in her tracks as they got outside of the classroom, Yams already heading in.

“What?”

Y/N watched him carefully, still unsure of his intentions. “Thank you, for helping me out back there but...”

Tsukishima’s eyes darkened for a moment, like he was coming to some sort of realization, “If it was just a ploy to you, it’s fine. We can just say it was to get him off your back, that’s fine.”

She grabbed his arm as he started to move away, frowning as she looked up at him, “N-No, that’s... I just wanted to know if you... if you meant it.”

As his eyes met hers again, he tilted his head slightly, “Meant what?”

Y/N sighed, knowing they were going to end up going back and forth on this topic if she wasn’t straight up wit him. “Did... Did you really want to ask me out?”

He gave a smirk and Y/N’s heart started to fall - so it had been a joke this whole time then. “Obviously I wanted to ask you out. I’ve been wanting to for weeks now. Did you think I would just ask you out for no reason?”

Y/N wanted to point out that he could have just asked her out to humiliate her ex but seemed to catch onto this and just laughed. “If you think I’d actually fight a guy for just anyone, you’re stupider than I thought.”

She pouted in return, hitting his chest in defiance, “Hey!”

Tsukishima laughed and flicked her forehead, smirking down at her, “Go out with me. Seriously this time.”

Y/N glared playfully at him, pushing at his chest a little, “Fine. But you’ve got to be a bit nicer to me.”

“I took punches to the face for you, how much nicer can I get?” Tsukishima scoffed but bent down and kissed her nose gently. “Now hurry up, we’re late now, idiot.”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel like everyone was watching them as Tsukishima interlaced their fingers together and pulled her into class, dropping her off at her seat and giving her a cheeky wink, before taking his next to Yamaguchi. 

She glanced at him every few seconds in class, pinching herself each time he would catch her eye and give her a small smile, wondering if her dreams had really come true. Had the guy she had fallen head over heels for really just asked her out?

Yes. And surprisingly, it was all thanks to her piece of shit ex boyfriend and a bloody nose.

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[xu-ren]

Goodbye

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Dick Grayson x reader / Nightwing x reader

Wordcount: 2,200+

I love Dick, I really do but even though I think that he can make a good boyfriend, I also think that he won’t, mostly because of the heavy burdens he takes upon himself. This is me trying to write a breakup where they both still love each other but the relationship is like beating a dead horse. I hope that you enjoy. 

Masterpost

*~*~*

You jolted awake suddenly. You weren’t sure what woke you up, maybe it was the feeling that someone was staring at you, maybe it was the wind coming in from the window you always close, maybe it was the coppery smell of blood. Well, there was only one person that would sneak into your bedroom in the middle of the night.

“………Dick?”

“Yes, darling?”

You dragged your weary body from your warm embrace of your bed and walked to where the shadowy figure was. Gently, you slowly took his hand in yours, making sure to telegraph your movement so he doesn’t startle. You linked your fingers together, comfortable and nostalgic in equal measures. It feels like it has been so long since the last you held his hand but also like you have never stopped holding it.

You went into your bathroom to fetch the first aid-kit, which in a normal household would be defined as overstocked but when you are dating a vigilante, there’s no such thing as an overstocked first aid-kit. Understocked, definitely, but never overstocked. When you entered the dining room where you left Dick, you found him in his Nightwing costume, gingerly perched upon one of the chairs on your dining table, specifically the one covered in plastic that was set aside for nights like this. The lights you flickered on your initial journey to the kitchen only serves to highlight his wounds. Luckily, they don’t seem to be anything serious, just a mixture of bruises and small cuts, nothing you have not seen before.

You settled yourself in front of him and gently start cleaning and dressing his wounds, muttering apologies when he hissed from the pain. Your hands were steady, far too used to cleaning up wounds for someone who is a civilian. Dick was uncharacteristically silent, maybe he was too exhausted to talk, which is doubtful.  Maybe he could read that you are not in the mood to talk, which was far more likely. He had always been perceptive to your moods, that was what made him such a good boyfriend in the first place.

Once, earlier in your relationship, your hands would have trembled, shaky and uncertain as they dressed his wounds. Your panicking apologies would have been met with demands for kisses to make it better, perhaps even interspersed with kisses from Dick to whatever patches of your skin that he could reach.

But now, it was no longer so. Quickly and efficiently, Dick’s wounds were soon all cleaned and dressed. You moved a chair in front of him and settle upon it, finally meeting his eyes. He looks exhausted, world weary with bags that would rival the bag you see on a backpacker. If you could have it any other way, you would not have this conversation now but if you don’t, you don’t know when you would next have a chance to do so or the courage to go through with it.

You held one of his hands in both of yours, rubbing your thumb in a soothing motion on the back of his hand, doing whatever you can to soften the news.

“Dick, let’s break up.” You let it spill out of you, as quickly as you could before your courage failed you.

Dick’s baby blues widen, making him resemble a baby owl before blinked rapidly once, twice, thrice, as if he is in disbelief while the rest of him was frozen. The silence seemed to drag on and on, the calm before the storm.

“Love, darling, dearest, whatever do you mean? I promise that I would do better. Just tell me where I went wrong, it won’t happen again. I promise, just please please don’t leave me. Let’s get married, okay? When do you wanna get married? Tomorrow is fine, how about tomorrow?” babbled Dick desperately. In the middle of his babbling, the position of your hands had switched, with both of his hands cradling both of yours. It’s warm and familiar and you desperately want to savour the moment, especially since it’s one that you have went so long without.

However, you have already come this far. It would be doing a disservice to the courage you so desperately gathered to fail here.

“Oh Dick, I love you, I really really do. But you don’t have anything left to give me, do you? Do you even remember the last time we went on a date?” You asked as kindly as you could.

“We went to the burger place you mentioned?” He asked hesitantly.

“That was 2 months ago, and you were 3 hours late,” you retorted, trying to keep the heat from your voice.

“The café with the ………pancakes?” His next guess was much more hesitant, so it was safe to say that you weren’t particularly successful with keeping the heat from your voice.  

“5 months ago, and you left 3 minutes after the pancakes arrived because you received a call. From Barbara.”

The silence that followed your second answer was deafening, uncomfortable in a way that was rare when you were with him. He responded by bringing your hands, still cradled by his to his cheeks and looked at you from under his lashes with his lower lip jutting out. There are many things about him that you were weak to, but none as much as when he looked at you with his baby blues from under those long pretty boy lashes of his.

You snatched your hands from his and narrowed your eyes at him, furious that he would try such a method at a time like this. It was unfair of him, since you knew your weakness, he knew it, his family knew it, even the waitstaff at your favourite breakfast place probably knew it.

“Point is, Dick, we have barely seen each other in months, and when we do, you are either late or rushing off. I’m not angry,” You pinched your nose, trying to keep your voice steady. “I mean, I was but I came to realise something. There’s no place for me in your life, or rather, there’s so much on your plate that there’s no place left for me. You are a flying Grayson, and I’m the shackles that bound you. I have been selfish all this time, but would you let me be selfish this one last time?”

At the end of your rant, you finally dared to hazard a glance at Dick. His shoulders were slumped and his head bowed, like he was beaten down and it broke your heart. It’s not the first time you have seen him like this, his life often takes its toll on him, but it never failed to break your heart nonetheless.

You wanted to comfort him, but how do you comfort someone who you hurt? You wished to wrap your arms around him, giving him a reprieve from the horrors of the world and a place to be weak. You wished to let him sob into your shoulder but how do you do so when you are the one that inflicted this pain on him?

“Alright,” he sighed, ending your relationship once and for all.

“It’s late, why don’t you stay the night?” It’s cruel of you, to offer your bed to someone whose heart you just broke, but you missed him.

He raised his head and you finally looked at him after your awful revelation. The sight of it broke your heart all over again, especially the way his eyes were shinning with barely unshed tears and his lips were quivering. His eyes scanned you, trying to tell if you meant what you said.

He nodded his acceptance and head towards your couch. You pulled on his shirt to catch his attention, unsure if he wanted you to touch him at the moment. He stopped but doesn’t turn to face you.

“Come to bed, Dick.” An unspoken one last time passed between the both of you.

He changed directions and headed towards your bedroom, shoulders and back stiff. You were left standing in the kitchen alone, except this time it's all due to your own making. When you finally gathered your thoughts, you head to your bedroom to find Dick in the showers.

You sat on your bed, waiting for him because you like to think that you still know him well and he is someone that would go to sleep on your couch or gods forbid, leave, if you close your eyes for even a second. The way he jolted when he came out of the bathroom confirmed your suspicions.

He made his way stiffly to his side of the bed, closer to the window. “All the better to protect you, my dear,” was what he said when you had asked why he loved sleeping on the side closer to the window.

You crawled under the covers, unsure on what to do next. It’s painful that your last night together would be so horribly awkward, even though you know that you only have yourself to blame for this. Lovely, precious Dick broke the awkwardness by wrapping his arms around you, pulling your head onto his chest and resting his head on yours. You reciprocated by wrapping your arms around him and snuggling closer. His scent was comforting, a mixture of his shower gel and something that was uniquely him. It has long faded from both your bed and the clothes that he left in your apartment, even though you tried to preserve it for as long as you possibly could.

Only in the darkness of your bedroom, with both of your arms wrapped around each other, does Dick finally let his tears fall.  His tears wet your hair and gut-wrenching sobs that tore through his chest. What broke your heart over and over again was however, the kisses he pressed to the top of your head in between his sobs.

You closed your eyes and succumbed to sleep only when his sobs were silent, presumably having exhausted himself.

*~*~*

You jolted awake to the smell of something burning, causing you to leap from your bed and run towards the kitchen. There, you stared as Dick waved your pan around, trying to put out the burning something on it. You would hazard a guess and say that it was a fried egg, given the eggshell you could see at the side of the stove.

Some unknown emotion, maybe relief, crawled up your throat and you laughed and laughed and laughed. By the time you managed to gain some control, you looked up to see Dick pouting at you.

“You could have helped, you know?” pointed out Dick, clearly a little upset.

“I’m sorry, I should have. How about cereal instead?” you said as a peace offering.

“Fruit Loops?” Watching Dick perk up at the mere mention of cereal made your lips twitch upwards. It certainly made the number of times you had to replace the cereal worth it, given that he had never stayed over enough in recent months to finish the cereal and you weren’t going to eat that sugary cereal.

“Of course, were you expecting something else?”

“I love you, honey.” At the words that spilled out of Dick’s mouth, both of you freeze, unsure on how to proceed, your conversation from last night hanging heavily in the air. You smiled at him tentatively and his shoulders relaxed marginally.

By the time you return to the kitchen after freshening yourself in the bathroom, Dick had already taken your largest bowl and was eating what looked like half the box of cereal. You made yourself a cup of Milo before sitting across Dick, drinking in the sight of him sitting at your kitchen table bathe in sunlight.

Far sooner than you would like, breakfast was over and you are helping him pack up his things. Even that doesn’t last as long as you would liked and before you knew it, you were standing in front of your door with Dick, his things in a box at his feet.

Both of you look at each other awkwardly, unsure or perhaps unwilling to take the next step. He cupped your cheeks and pressed a kiss to your lips. He tasted sweet, which suited a person as sweet as he is.

‘I’m sorry, I love you,’ his kiss said.

‘Don’t be, it’s not your fault. I love you too,’ you kissed him back.

You separated, his hands still cupping your cheeks, your faces so close that you could smell the sugar on his breath.

‘Goodbye.’ He pressed one last kiss on your forehead before turning around and walking out of your life. You know that if you ask him to stay, if you tell him that you don’t want to break up anymore, he would stay, but it wouldn’t be fair to either of you. You watched, rooted to the ground, drinking in the sight of him until he turned around the corner.

You can’t bear the sight of your apartment, so bare without his things. Even when he had been barely around in months, at least his things were still around to remind you of him. Instead, you headed to your bed and cried, surrounded by the smell of him. The first time your bed smelled like him in months also marked the last time your bed would ever smell like him.

[hansoulo]

lay back in cloying sin

part three of “Pillar of Salt”

Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)

Warnings: NSFW-ish; references to marks and bruises, kissing, probably inaccurate descriptions of ballroom dancing, fluff, mentions of alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.3k

Gif Credit: (x) by @/ktfhett

A/N: boba & reader: [tyler the creator voice] oh no i hope i don’t fall 

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Dinner was a tedious affair, filled with hollow pageantry. It was one last hurrah before the send off of the honored guests, one of which you’d never talked to and the other who was nowhere to be found. The former, Lord Vader, sat at the head of the long table and made for very unamusing company. You had the distinct impression that he’d rather be anywhere than here, having to listen to his uniformed subordinates squabble in grating voices and your father simper about mining collectives. That made for two of you.

But the cavernous banquet hall was always beautiful, if a bit ostentatious, and the food never disappointed, so you consoled yourself with a loosened corset and the promise of a second dinner by servants who pitied your forced small portions.

You floated into the large room, shuffled through by the compounding procession before an older man offered to help you into your seat. The ornateness of your evening wear made you grateful for the help, watching in sincere thanks as he pulled out the high-backed chair.

“Thank you, um…” the color of his robes and the softness of his hands signalled high rank and you chanced a guess. “Duke...?”

“Sagcock,” he finished for you. “Jovron Sagcock.”

He has got to be joking.

Evidently, he wasn’t.

If the man saw you choke on a laugh, sputtering it into a hiccup as you sat down, he pretended not to notice. After all, princesses knew better than to be unbecoming or crass or know why any part of that exchange could be fodder for humor.

Fighting down one last cough, you attempted to regain some sense of decorum. What a wonderful start to the evening.

The arrangement of persons on this particular night was strange though, even disregarding the title of the man now seated beside you. There were more people than usual filling out the hall tonight, all fancily clad and buffed to shining. Boba wasn’t anywhere to be found.

The supposed importance of the occasion probably necessitated a shuffling of seats to soothe egos and encourage conversation, but you weren’t used to being so close to the head of the table, near parallel with your mother. Usually your elder sisters sat higher and provided you the benefit of distance. Of course, they were all gone now. Your brother was still too young to be at evening dinners, so there was no buffer between you and your parents’ ire.

Maybe this was the Maker’s way of getting back at you for your tiny tryst. Maybe they all knew about what happened in the garden and were just waiting for the shoe to drop, branding you as a harlot and finally letting you free. Vader’s static words travelled down the table and mingled with your father’s but you were too busy entertaining worse-case scenarios to understand conversation.

People were observing you, you realized partway through the first round of courses. Watching you with strange eyes as if you were the last scrap of halfway-spoiled meat for imperial officials and all the nobility that had come to pay their prostrate respects. No one had really given half a damn about you before, which made it all the more strange.

A heel foot softly kicked at yours underneath the table, breaking you out of your glazed thoughts. The fork you had been mindlessly moving across your plate stopping mid-swirl. Looking up, you met the quiet glare of your mother and cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you asked. Your question was punctuated with a smile too large to be genuine. The queen’s head jerked towards the grizzled man seated to her right and you turned towards him at her behest, face open in trained invitation. “Oh, hello, General.”

General Enes, current commander of the army of Quas Killam. Not strictly Imperial, but aligned close enough to have him in the king’s good graces and to reside permanently at court. He was also a Duke and probably a cousin thrice removed, but who was counting?

“No need to stand on pleasantries, your Highness,” the gray-haired man assured you, one large hand resting over his stomach as servants replaced the dirtied plates in front of you with new ones. You only sipped delicately at your algarine as he chortled and remembered, “It seems like yesterday that you were running around the palace with your sisters. A little sprite of a thing, weren’t you?”

Was he drunk already? “Yes, I remember,” you tread pleasantly; carefully.

The general settled and let out one last chuckle before his eyes grew hawk-like again, trained in the jewelry and accoutrements that signified your being old enough to marry but young enough to have not yet been taken. Like a prize. Or a charity donation. “You’ve grown into quite the young woman, you know.”

So that’s where this was going. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and tried to look gracious. “Thank you, sir. That’s a high compliment.”

“How old are you again, dear?”

Masking your surprise at the forwardness of the question, you supplied your age to a nod of approval from both him and your mother.

“A good age, I’d say. ‘Round the same as my youngest.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” you shot a look down the table and caught a glimpse of cropped flaxen hair, its owner sitting enough seats down to prevent any shared conversation. You counted your blessings for it and smiled, tight-lipped. “Your son and I shared company when we were children.”

“Well that’s very nice,” the queen interjected quite loudly and looked around the long table with a light laugh but cold eyes. “Isn’t that nice?”

Your father looked at you for the first time all evening as if on cue, boring a hole into your face with the words he seemed to be telepathically trying to put in your mouth.

The taste of bitter wine on your tongue made your thoughts fevered, though not borne out of alcohol so much as the memories of someone else’s touch in the same places. “Yes,” you repeated vaguely. “Very nice.”

Darth Vader apparently didn’t remove his helmet. You wondered why he came to dinner at all.

The remaining evening hours had been whittled away by dessert and drinks. Everyone who cared to stay shuffled into the ballroom, a behemoth of a thing filled with inky windows and sparkling artifice. It was a blur of waltzes and predetermined couplings with boys you’d been ignoring since you were old enough to kick them in their shins, but you didn’t care enough to go to pains to avoid it. They broke up the monotony of introductions, at least, and let your mind and body be somewhere else for a while.

All compounded, the night left you flushed and tired. You needed alcohol. Or air. The latter was probably the more reasonable choice of the two.

Being in the midst of ballroom theatrics allowed for an easy enough escape, and a side entrance to a balcony overlooking the palace grounds became the object of your attention.

The tall double doors lay open in their glass encasings and spilled out lamplight refractions on the guests’ gaudy clothing and gaudier jewelry, everything sparkling and warm. But you were far enough away from it to still be chilled by the night air, a balm for your flushed cheeks and fizzling temper.

Usually guests ignored it in favor of staying indoors, so you were fairly confident in the promise of solitude and an undisturbed breeze.

But someone apparently had the same idea as you.

“Hello,” you ventured out a greeting to the silhouette not yet fully in your vision. You stepped closer and the heels of your shoes echoed on clay tiles. “I’m sorry, am I bothering you?”

Royal Highnesses shouldn’t really care about whether or not they were disturbing strange party guests, you could make them leave if you felt so inclined, but something in you was feeling magnanimous tonight. You tried not to think about why.

The figure didn’t turn back towards you, still facing out towards the blurry glitter of urban lights far off in the distance. It looked pretty this far away, all glowing masses and amorphous buildings that scraped the sky. You’d never  been close enough to see all the dinge and smog that made its home in places not populated by princesses. Marble felt more familiar than metal.

The man wore metal too, and his voice scraped at your chest when he answered. “You’re not bothering me, princess.”

Oh.

You ventured cautiously towards the balcony’s edge, next to the man you now could recognize as Boba. The thick stone railing was cool to the touch. “Hello.”

His helmet tipped to the left, which was probably his way of saying it back.

“I didn’t see you at the dinner,” you noticed quietly. Would it be presumptuous to assume he was avoiding you? Intellect said yes, but ego didn’t listen. You leant forward, the speckled marble digging into your elbows as you mirrored Boba’s sightline out into the city. “You know, you wouldn’t have needed to make conversation. Lord Vader was the guest of honor and all he did was sit there.”

“I don’t like crowds.”

“Ah.”

A silence lapsed between you, awkward as if you were strangers. You were though, weren’t you? Strangers. Not friends. Not lovers. Not really.

But if he asked you to crack yourself open for him, you would. You would rip apart every satin petticoat and snap the boning in your corsets until your hands were raw if it meant he would touch you; skin to skin. You’d run away and cite a hidden fountain as the reason why.

You didn’t know what he’d give up for you, if anything. Boba didn’t seem like the type to have much in the first place. Either by choice or by necessity.

The garden afternoon nagged at you after having time to form coherent thoughts, and the fizzy shine of palace lights reflecting off his helmet reminded you of what you’d been meaning to ask.

Night made you softer-spoken. “Why did you let me take off your helmet?”

Night made his edges sharper. “Why did you want to?”

“I asked first,” you volleyed back as reason enough to get an answer first.

Boba wasn’t a Mandalorian in the true sense of the word, at least that’s what gossip told you, so it didn’t really matter if he took the helmet off or not. But he kept it on in front of everyone else.

The hunter gave you visor-silence and your impatience made you concede. “I just wanted to see you,” you breathed out, still not looking at him.  The admission sounded much more naive than you intended.

His words held their characteristic aloofness but were edged by gentle teasing. “What if I said the same?”

That he wanted to see you?

You still didn’t understand half of why he did what he did and what he wanted, but you turned to face him head-on anyway. Cold moonlight fell on your neck and the air cracked with fever. You tried to reply in jest. “Then I’d say that you were being stupid.”

“You’d be right.”

A swallow bobbed in your throat. He always seemed to take up your vision; fill it and suffocate you with seemingly no effort. “And then I’d ask you to do it again.”

“Do what, princess?”

He knew. He just liked seeing the words come out of your mouth.

“Let me take your helmet off.”

This time, he guided your hands up himself. They were slow and almost careful running across your palms, placing them on the mechanisms your fingers found in quick memory. Set on the balcony railing, the helmet seemed to be a prop. An upside down bucket filled with all the things you had yet to say to each other, spilling out onto the ground in a fog.

“I like you better without it,” you decided when he turned back towards you, his weight still resting on the railing with one cocked hip. Everything about the way he looked was dark: inky black curls and scarred brown skin and eyes that pushed the air in your lungs with a stall and a catch. They looked even darker next to tan clothes and green armor.

His voice wasn’t entirely lacking in humor. He did that. Humored you. “Do you now?”

“Mhm.” you nodded with fake seriousness, slightly giddy and slightly too brave. You blamed it on an excess of wine and good company. “Better-looking.”

He only scoffed, a flash of pearl-white canines serving as one half of a smile. A smile that had been wider when it was against your collarbones, your neck, your mouth. A smile that you wouldn’t mind being in other places.

You nudged Boba’s shoulder with your own when a waltz kicked up in the background, faint through the open ballroom door. “There’s music,” you implied, half-joking and half-expectant. There had been this whole time, of course, but acknowledging it now seemed better than never. “You should ask me to dance.”

“I’m not one for dancing, your Highness.”

The title made you roll your eyes, a commonplace formality that you usually insisted on but now found overly facetious. Coming from him, that is. “Clearly not,” you almost snorted. Pushing away from the marble ledge with a finality that seemed almost comical, you held your hand out and waited, eyebrows raising and fingers beckoning. Well? your face seemed to say, Are you coming?

His sigh was bone-deep and settled in your chest like chunks of black plaster, but it felt good. “You’re not going to let me leave, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” you replied, as if it’d be ridiculous to expect anything else. Princesses danced with men at parties. You were a princess. Boba was a man at a party. In a roundabout sort of way. “It’s easy, I promise,” you assured, wrapping your hand around his wrist and pulling him away from the balcony. His glove slipped down a bit; just enough that your thumb could press one soft circle against the tan skin over bone.

Uncomfortable wasn’t really the correct word for how you thought he felt. You doubted Boba could ever be uncomfortable. No. No, the right word would probably be… bemused. Like he was in a menagerie watching a creature, something exotic and pretty, with mild interest while it still had his attention. But you did have his attention. That was something.

“You put your right hand on my waist,” you moved to reposition the large fingers more accustomed to blasters than they were to bodices. Boba smirked, almost boyish, when you caught his hand wandering someplace else. “Not that low,” you chided with quiet exasperation, placing your palm atop his and guiding it back up.

The pale leather was warm underneath your skin and you bit down a smile, almost awe-struck at how strange your hand looked next to his. Yours was polished, weighed down by heavy gold bangles and softened by years of idle play. His, you suspected (for you didn't actually know; hadn’t yet actually seen), was anything but.

“That’s good,” you supplied lightly. “And then I do this,”your other hand reached to rest on Boba’s shoulder. “And then- no, no you give me your left hand. Hold it out- good.”

Still looking down, you were careful not to trip over your skirts or his boots. “And now we just-” you breathed out and glanced up, surprised to find his expression strangely careful. Almost tender. You gulped down the quiet notch in your throat. “-now we just um… sway. Like this.”

You eschewed complication in favor of a simple rhythm, just letting your feet fall wherever they liked so long as they didn’t tangle in themselves. Now wasn’t the time for anything laborious; you didn’t have faith enough in Boba’s footwork. But he actually wasn’t too bad all things considered. A bit stiff and a bit gruff, but those were part and parcel. It was a bit like dancing with a tree trunk. A very handsome, very broad, very taciturn tree trunk. It was easy to let yourself sink into it a little with how solid he felt.

The man arched an eyebrow when your fingers stretched to thread together with his. “Just sway?”

“You’re welcome to do a jig instead if you’d like,” you replied wryly as your weight shifted from foot to foot. The hand around your waist stiffened at the prospect and a grin escaped your face.

“Nevermind.”

The amusement that had previously only been in your throat escaped in a quiet laugh. “Thought so,” you whispered, victorious. Tension, bunched up in your shoulders and collected in your bones, melted completely when he pulled you closer and let your head fall against the space of his neck. Sinew fit against silk like puzzle pieces and warmed the quiet moment that followed. Neither of you spoke for fear of disturbing the fresh peace.

You found yourself dwelling more and more on hypotheticals. Unrealistic and stupid, you knew, given who you both were. But still you dwelt, unable to fathom a reality outside of the last nine hours and inside a reality within which Boba was gone.

Would he fit here, with the stucco and plaster and ivy? With all the sheltered society of an insignificant court? With you?

You wondered if he dwelt on hypotheticals, too.

Swallowing cold air as Boba thumbed the collar of your dress, you felt the light scatter of broken blood vessels from hours before smart again. Your cheek pressed against the pauldron of his beskar, but neither of you were really dancing anymore. “I- I wanted to talk,” you began quietly. “About earlier.”

“Did you not like it?” Did you not like me?

“No! No, I…” you shook your head, trying to rid yourself of his assumption. The crystals hanging from your headpiece tinkled with every soft movement. “No, I… I liked it. I like…” The lump in your throat seemed to travel down back into your stomach. “You,” you finished, swallowing the final word and leaving all its implications to settle in the night.

He could feel the rise and fall of your chest; delicate and airy and resigned. You spoke again. “But you’re leaving tomorrow and... and we could’ve been caught. And the more I think about it the more I really am not looking forward to the idea of some court scandal or being cloistered up like a nun because I—”

He called you your name.

He’d never used your name before.

You lifted your head off his shoulder, desperate-eyed and looking for answers you both knew he couldn’t give. “Yes?”

“Kiss me.”

You barely breathed out an okay before the arm around your waist tightened, crushing you against cold metal and a warm body.

He kissed you how a lover would. Like how a first kiss should’ve been.

It was gentle. Warm. Tender-mouthed and aching, placing promises down your throat with a soft hand and closed eyes. It was… It was…

It was broken up far too quickly.

A voice called out your name from somewhere far-off, regally accented and not at all welcome. It called your name again, first middle and last with all the titles in between with much less patience. Your mother, queen consort.

The groan of displeasure that escaped you was muffled in Boba’s mouth and swallowed up before it could give either of you away. He recovered much faster than you did, peeling back from your body with eyes already alert and scanning the shadows for passersby. There were none. For now.

“It’s my mother,” you whispered, letting your eyes roll seemingly out of your skull. “They’re probably doing some send-off for Vader’s entourage.”

Neither of you mentioned the fact that Boba was part of that entourage too.

Your last words were rushed before the footsteps became too close and the mercenary pulled away. You didn’t really want to stay to hear the answer. “Will I see you again?”

Boba Fett, you’d come to learn, wasn’t the kind of man to offer more than what he knew he could give.

The helmet went back on. “I don’t know.”’

[goldenretriever-nicknelson]

New beginnings [P.P]

A/N: I guess I’m unofficially back or in other words I got too excited that I finished a fic and wanted to post it. I was inspired by the picture of Tom in a graduation cap and I really wanted to write Peter’s graduation which hopefully we’ll see in the movies. Anyway enjoy and now I’m gonna go hibernate until I can actually write the next chapter of tale as old as time. 

I’m also looking for a new beta reader for my fics so please let me know if you’d be interested! 

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

WC: 2.9k

Warnings: some angst and tears but mostly fluffy fluff

Peter took a deep breath as he looked at himself in the mirror. It almost felt like a dream version of himself staring back as he looked at the black robes and graduation cap that sat on his head. He’d dreamt and wondered about this day for so long and now it was finally here. His high school graduation. 

His eyes flickered over to the photo frames that stood on his dresser, two men stared back at him and Peter imagined their proud faces. He wished with all his heart that they could see him walk across that stage or give his speech. 

“They’re still here with you and they’d be so proud Peter.” 

Peter turned as he heard his aunt’s voice from the doorway. He sniffled and nodded, not realising that tears had started to form in his eyes. May wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close. He melted into the familiar comfort and hugged his Aunt just as tightly back. 

“Thanks May.” 

She pulled back and adjusted his cap, smiling proudly at her nephew. He’d been through so much even death and yet here he was, valedictorian of his class and ready to graduate. 

“I’m proud of you too.” 

Peter could sense May began to cry and he quickly shook his head with a laugh. “If you cry, I’m gonna cry and then neither of us will get to the ceremony on time.” 

She gave a watery laugh and patted his cheek, taking a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m gonna go get the car ready.” 

“Thanks May!” He called after her as she left his room, closing the door behind her and leaving Peter once again to his thoughts. He rehearsed his speech again and then again, nerves growing in the pit of his tummy. 

Just as he was leaving his phone buzzed. He worried that it would be an alert of some kind but Peter was pleased to see your name staring back at him with the words “Good luck!” and a dozen heart emojis underneath. He smiled wide as he headed to the car and met May, suddenly feelings less nauseous than before. 

May tried to speak to Peter on the drive but he could only focus on one of two things: you and his speech. He imagined what you would be wearing and the smile that could instantly make him feel better as it lit up a room. May noticed a pink tint forming on Peter’s cheeks and smiled to herself as she saw you waiting for him outside the school.

“Ready?” She looked over at her nephew and smiled, sighing softly. May couldn’t believe how much Peter had grown and how far he’d come in such a short time. He wasn’t the scared kid she knew anymore, he was braver and stronger and he’d faced everything that life had thrown at him. He deserved this moment of happiness. 

Peter nodded and took a deep breath, his hands tightly clutching the cards on which his speech was written. 

“You got this.” May encouraged with a smile. “And it looks like it’s not just me cheering you on.” She nodded to where you were standing, waiting patiently for Peter. He looked over and the smile that broke out on his face was wide enough to squash all his fears. 

You were wearing a pretty mid-length dress under your gown with a pair of sneakers and your hair perfectly styled underneath your cap. You looked beautiful. He told you so as he walked up to you, both of your eyes lighting up with happiness as Peter hugged you, practically picking you up off the ground. 

Peter always made you blush with his compliments and he’d love it when your cheeks went red because of him. He thought it was the cutest thing. Even on your worst days, Peter would always tell you why he loved you and why you were the best thing that ever happened to him. 

You and Peter had been dating for a little over a year now and there wasn’t a moment you would change. Even through the hardships and the fights, every moment with Peter was worth it. The biggest challenge had been college acceptance letters. 

Peter had got accepted into Empire State University and you had chosen to go to Columbia. Luckily it was only a 25 minute drive but even you both knew how crazy college would probably get. You’d heard about relationships, not even just the long distance ones failing because of the workload of college plus with Peter’s spidey duties there was added stress but you had both made a promise to try your hardest to make it work. You couldn’t lose each other, not after everything you’ve been through. 

He was always amazed by how perfectly your hand fit into his as if it were made to be held by him. You noticed as you walked closer to where the ceremony was taking place that Peter’s grip became tighter and his palms became sweatier. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay.” 

Peter looked at you and took a deep breath, nodding. He smiled as you cupped his cheek, leaning into your touch as it comforted him. 

“Thank you princess.” 

He leaned in and captured your lips in a sweet kiss, letting himself get distracted by the taste of your lips and the way they moved against his own. As he held you close he felt his nerves fade away and he felt he could take on anything. You were his anchor as his whole body felt on edge. 

Peter had never been one for public speaking. Sure he would give speeches as Spidey when he needed to and even though he was still awkward and nervous, he was hidden behind a mask and no one would be able to make fun of him the next day. 

As if you had read his mind, you placed your hand on his arm and kissed his cheek. “Pete, it’s the last time you’re gonna see most of these people so who cares what they think. Just keep your eyes on me, you got this.” 

Your words brought comfort to Peter as he held onto the cards for his speech. He could feel the kiss on his cheek lingering and it made him feel stronger to know he had you to support him. You took his hand in yours once again and smiled before leading the way to your seats, right next to MJ and Ned who both gave Peter a thumbs up.

He waved at May a few rows behind them and smiled, remembering to focus on his breathing as the time drew nearer. He tried not to focus on how many people there were or the different sounds that made him on edge. You knew that when Peter was nervous his senses started to make him feel on edge so you squeezed his hand and leaned into his side. 

Peter noticed your small gesture and focused instead on you; the smell of your perfume, the hum of your heartbeat and the way the sun was catching your face in a serene way. He calmed down almost instantly but it didn’t last long as soon after his name was called by Mr Harrington. 

“I’d like to welcome your class valedictorian, Mr Peter Parker.” 

The crowd of people applauded and it took Peter a moment to process as you pushed him lightly onto his feet. With one last squeeze of your hand, he pulled away and gave you a nervous smile as he walked up the small stairs to the stage. 

Peter stood behind the podium and placed his cards down, his eyes fixated on them for a moment before he looked up at the audience. He took a deep breath, trying to stop the shake of his hands as he gripped onto the podium. 

“Woo Penis Parker!” 

It didn’t take two guesses to know who was shouting in the crowd but Flash was quickly shut down by MJ who kicked him in the shin. Peter smiled at that before his eyes found yours and he felt the anxiety in his mind quieten just enough for him to start speaking. 

As he spoke and delivered his speech about gratitude and learning, his eyes rarely left yours. He rambled a bit off text as he thought of funny anecdotes to tell about his time at Midtown and he noticed the proud smile on your lips as well as the tears that had started to gather in your eyes. 

“My time at Midtown has been interesting for sure. I’ve done things in the past 4 years that I would never have dreamed of and at one point I wasn’t even sure if I’d make it here.” 

You sniffled, remembering when Peter had gone to space and left you and May worried and how the blip had almost threatened to tear you apart. You remembered the night that you first saw Peter after the battle, his face was bruised and the marks of cuts still lined his face but he was more broken beyond that. The emotional scars he’d suffered were far worse than any physical ones. 

He used to lay in your arms and cry most nights and whenever he slept he’d wake with terrible nightmares. Sometimes he’d space out or have flashbacks that left him shaking but you held him through it all. 

“I wouldn’t be here without my friends,” Peter gave a subtle nod to MJ and Ned who smiled back at him. “My family,” He looked over at May who was wiping her eyes with a tissue and Happy who was smiling back at him. “And my love.” His eyes finally met yours once again as he smiled wide. You felt a tear slip down your cheek but you didn’t even care as you smiled back. 

“I am proud to be standing here as your valedictorian and you should all be proud of yourselves too. Part of the journey is the end and tomorrow will mark the start of the new ones we take wherever they lead.” 

Peter smiled as he finished his speech, being met with loud applause from the crowd. You made sure to be extra loud and even gave a whistle which made Peter laugh. His cheeks were red but his smile was brighter than the sun as he walked off of the stage and came back to his seat. You wrapped your arms around him tightly and kissed his blushing cheek. 

“I’m so proud of you baby.” You whispered as you both sat back down, Peter’s smile widening at your words as he took your hand and squeezed. 

The rest of the ceremony went by slowly as you both waited for your names to be called. You watched MJ sigh as she went to grab her diploma but you could tell she was excited and that there was the hint of a smile playing on her lips as you, Peter and Ned all cheered for her. 

Ned almost tripped up the stairs as he got his but quickly laughed it off and happily accepted his diploma. His family cheered just as loud as his friends and Ned walked off the stage with a wide smile, being careful not to trip again. 

When it was your turn, you could feel the pace of your heart pick up, every nerve in your body was tingling. Peter kissed your cheek before you got up and made you blush as you went to accept your diploma. You swung the tassel of your cap to the other side and did a little bow which made Peter and your supporters in the crowd cheer even louder. You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry more as you walked off stage. 

Peter almost looked startled when they finally read his name. He got up quickly and walked up onto the stage, feeling more confident than he had before his speech. He smiled at the teachers and members of staff as he passed them before shaking hands as he got his diploma. He smiled out at the crowd focusing on you and May as you both cheered him on. 

Peter wished he could freeze the moment, the two most important people in his life smiling proudly at him and he knew that if Tony and Ben could be here they would be too. And for the first time in a long time, Peter was proud of himself as he stood on that stage. 

Soon enough all the names had been read and the ceremony was coming to a close. There were so many mixed emotions as the principal said the last words of his speech about moving on and wishing luck to all the graduates. It felt strange, like a dream. This chapter of your lives was really ending. 

Peter watched all the graduation caps being thrown up into the air, it almost felt like slow motion as they fell to the ground signifying the end of his high school years. He was grateful and sad and happy all at once. Yeah there had been bad times but the good times far outweighed them. 

He smiled as stole a kiss from you as you parted to go be with your own families. Peter headed towards May and Happy, accepting hugs from both of them. 

“You did so good, honey!” May ruffled his curls, making Peter roll his eyes fondly. “Happy cried too.” 

Happy gave May a look before looking back at Peter with a laugh. “Your speech was really good Peter.” 

“Thanks, both of you.” Peter smiled at them, he owed a lot to both of them especially May who had raised him. She hugged him again tightly and kissed his head before noticing you walk up to the three of them. 

“Congrats Y/n!” May pulled you into the hug with Peter, making both of you laugh. Peter was the first to pull back, his cheeks almost bright red as he gave his aunt a knowing look before asking if he could go with you. May nodded but not before kissing his cheek. 

You swung your hand with Peter’s as you walked away with a giggle. Peter lifted your hand to his lips and kissed it, making you blush. You smiled and giggled with Peter as you walked away from everyone else, soon stopping at a nearby tree which you instantly recognised. 

When Peter had first asked you to be his girlfriend, you were sitting under this tree reading as you sat between his legs on a warm summer day. You remembered the small shake in his voice as he asked you and how his smile had widened as you said yes. It was as easy as answering your own name.

Peter showed you a little tool knife which had his uncle's initials engraved and smiled. “I thought we could officially make this our spot.” You smiled wide and nodded, squeezing his hand before he started to carve both of your names with your help. 

You both smiled proudly at your work, Peter tracing his fingers over the carving of your names with forever written underneath. “It’s perfect.” He turned to face you and cupped your cheek, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “just like you.” 

You blushed and leaned into his touch, smiling softly at your boyfriend. Both of you felt so lucky to have each other especially after the blip. You never wanted to take each other for granted and you made sure you never did. 

Peter’s hand slipped into his pocket and pulled out a small box, looking like it contained a ring. You looked at him with wide eyes in shock. 

“P-Peter, I- are you-?” 

Peter furrowed his brow before realising what you were saying, his eyes going as wide as yours. He quickly shook his head and blushed with a laugh. “N-no. Maybe one day but no I’m not proposing.” 

You smiled at the mention of the future you hoped with Peter and let out a small sigh of relief. After all, you had only just graduated high school. That was a big enough life milestone for today. 

“This is a promise ring.” Peter spoke as he opened the box, showing you a beautiful silver ring that was engraved, For me, there is only you. “I love you Y/n, i don’t know what i’d do without you and I don’t want to be without you. These past few years have been crazy for sure but you’ve been my anchor through it all. This ring is to remind you that even though we might be in different places and we might not be able to spend as much time together as we want, I will always be yours. It’s only you, always has been, always will be.” 

You sniffled and wiped away a tear that escaped from your watery eyes. “Pete I-” You shook your head, feeling speechless as you held out your hand and Peter slipped the ring onto your finger. You didn’t know what to say so you said the only words that made sense in that moment. “I love you.” 

“I love you too princess, so much.” Peter caught your tears before pulling you in for a kiss, locking his lips effortlessly with yours. 

Peter knew that he’d lost a lot in such a short time and the pain of those losses might not ever go away but he had you and May, his friends and a new journey ahead of him that he was ready to take. Saying goodbye to a chapter of his life was hard but he had to focus on what laid ahead. After all, as a wise man once said; part of the journey is the end.

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[shownusaurus]

WHAT MONSTA X ARE LIKE IN BED

an: just did this before I publish my first fanfic on this account lmao 😂

Son Hyunwoo/Shownu:

pretty vanilla I think, he's an awkward teddy bear but he oozes sex appeal which makes me think he's probably got something hidden tbh

biting? it could be biting, I'd think so. not enough to hurt but enough to leave marks, and it's the least 'out there' I can think of lmao

I think he enjoys oral on himself, but I don't think he particularly enjoys going down on you? he'd be willing and while doing it he'd defo be having fun, but it's not something he's going to offer to do all that often

he does enjoy taking care of you, though. he's a softie in and out of bed and I definitely think he has your interests in mind, and he's probably very into foreplay and aftercare.

soft and sensual, wants to make love to you not fuck you. there's a difference.

likes your thighs, bites them a lot and leaves hickeys ALL OVER

I don't care, he likes hickeys. won't bruise with his bites but sucks until your thigh is purple.

has a sensitive neck, upper back, spine and chest.

also probably likes when you touch his v-line 👀

Shin Hoseok/Wonho:

okay first of all, I feel like despite the fact that? A lot of people see him as big and strong and intimidating? He is not. In the slightest. If u think that you need to apologise to my bunny immediately.

but I definitely think he's a total simp for you. like, his caring, gorgeous s/o who he loves more than the world? his favourite wenee/monbebe? simp x1000.

which definitely carries into the bedroom I do not care. Likes to be soft w you, not necessarily vanilla but definitely passionate

ur body is a temple and my god does he worship it,,, kisses all over, gentle touches, hickeys wherever he can reach

probably has a thing for wrapping his manly hand around your wrists or throat and applying gentle pressure, loves to see how big he is compared to you

overall a sweetheart. Could be rough if you asked, but he 100% has to treat you like a queen after, massage and run a bath and feed you fruit to boost your energy

he's in love w you and he wants to show it while also sating both of your needs however you want him to

Lee Minhyuk:

playful! Goofy sex honestly, probably starts with him tickling you to death and just goes from there

definitely still sensual and looking out for both of your needs but is a complete ball of sunshine throughout

gonna leave hickeys across your hips, I feel like he has a thing abt hips? dk why

purposefully touching places where he knows are ticklish, playfully biting but not leaving marks

always wants to try a new position

Yoo Kihyun:

one of the more serious ones during sexy time

wants to treat you right but also wants to be rough w you??

spanking, choking, probably calls you a slut at least 3 times, at LEAST. will not pass up an opportunity to wrap a tie around your wrists or stuff your panties in your mouth either.

KINKY!! as if u didn't know from ^

don't think he'd be into that daddy kink though. probably would douse you in holy water and then read you the bible.

I am not ur father u nasty

but also? 👀 It does turn him on, but it just also makes him feel weird. like... I feel like he really does not want to be associated with ur parents at all while ur having sex? He thinks it's weird that you like it and he thinks it's weird that HE likes it

other names though like sir or master? yes, 100x yes

will pound you into the mattress

Chae Hyungwon:

lazy sex. wants u to ride him like a fuckin pony. not gonna make you do all the work out of courtesy but if u told him to just lie there he absolutely would.

doesn't strike me as the kinky type. lazy kisses, nips and 69ing sure ofc, but not really overly kinky. maybe if you're lucky he'll spank you a couple times or hold your throat while you hop on that dick.

morning sex is a thing with him but so is late night sex.

kind of... feel like he'd be down with cockwarming? doesn't take much effort on his end or yours and he enjoys being close to you as well.

Lee Jooheon/Joohoney:

also lazy, but not as much as hyungwon

an ass man and u won't convince me otherwise

doesn't have to be fat, if you have an ass he's touching

wants you to ride him but he's a power bottom in that scenario lmao

grips ur hips and pulls you down as he thrusts up into you

leaves bruises on your thighs and hips

probably a few hickeys but not many, and likely on your thighs.

really wants to go down on you. would 10/10 eat you out at any time of the day without a care in the world if you'd let him

doesn't much care if you give him head or not. appreciates it if you do but if you don't want to that's okay too.

Im Changkyun/I.M:

also an ass man, like... really likes your ass and thighs. a lot.

always has a hand on your ass

spanking is his kink

will probably let you call him daddy and would get SUPER into it

he has rules and u have to follow them or you get punished

basically just likes to feel like he's in control, but is actually whipped for you

you probably need a safeword with this one, something recognisable bc this man has you spewing out random ass words while he's fucking you and it needs to be something that you just don't say when you're having sex you feel?

lowkey feel like he likes to eat ass and idky

[crystaljins]

River lead me home | 09 FINAL

Characters: Kim Seokjin x reader

Word count: 5k

Synopsis:  Ever since coming to the human realm when you were child, nothing seems to fit, and this was just supposed to be a simple roadtrip to help you find yourself.

Is that too much to ask for?

Spin-off to A long journey home

Rating: Teens

Genre: Adventure, fluff, angst

Notes: Ahhh. We’re finally here. At the ending. 

I feel like so much happened since I started writing this fic. I’ve been through so many ups and downs, and so have my characters. And you guys are probably the same; I wonder what adventures you guys went on as I posted this? I hope they were fun ones. 

Anyway, thank you for sticking around for this long journey home. I hope you enjoy the final chapter, and I hope you enjoyed following these guys on their adventure. 

Till next time, my loves.

Tags: @blue1928​ @veeparkersstuff

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 FINAL

It’s a long journey home. The three of you stay with the mice long enough to see the first of the recovered victims poke their little noses out of their burrows. The mayor, a harried, round little mouse with hay coloured fur and absurdly long whiskers, cannot express his gratitude deeply enough, other than to procure the three of you a comfortable stay in a nearby inn. 

The journey back is only slightly less fraught with danger. The Saishtas think the two of you are dead, and not long after you part ways with the mice, new begins to circulate in the local areas that the might, evil Saishta queen has died and that her kingdom has fallen into disarray. You come across one or two of the insidious lizardpeoples after that but none of them approach or acknowledge you. Why bother, when they failed to save their queen?

After hearing that news, it’s more of a relaxed journey. You all head on from town to town, purchasing supplies and another bed roll for Jungkook. Jin is strangely eager to spend what little currency you have on the most comfortable bedroll he can find, and when Jungkook suggests he just continues to share in the interest of saving funds, Jin nearly has an aneurysm. 

Jin’s behaviour is probably the strangest part of the journey. He’s not cold or standoffish like he normally is when having a crisis, but he’s definitely gentler. More reserved but also warmer. It’s not unwelcome. In fact, you can’t help but wonder. If the war had never come, would this be the life you had with Jin? Endless adventures amongst the thrilling dangers of your home realm? 

You bring the thought up to Jin and Jungkook one night, while the three of you huddle together over a fire, snacking on some of the dried meats you’d purchased from the last town. 

Jin looks surprised at the thought. 

“I’ve always thought it would be you and Taehyung going on the big adventures.” He points out. “The two of you were never able to hold still, even for a moment.” His smile is warm and fond as he recalls your childhood. 

“You’d have been dragged along.” Jungkook counters through a particularly chewy mouthful. “You’d probably be married to (Y/N) and forced to follow her around keep her out of trouble.”

Oddly, you expect Jin to flush, or protest, or attempt to strangle Jungkook. You certainly feel a bit flushed at the thought. But Jin is unfazed- he merely offers a secretive smile and tilts his head curiously at you. You couldn’t decipher the look if you tried, but it has your throat feeling tight. 

You change the conversation topic after that, but it’s not the only way that Jin has changed. A few days later, the three of you are attempting to cross a little slippery creek when you lose your footing. 

You stumble over a few rocks and land on your hands and knees. Even in the deepest part of the creek it only comes up to your mid-thighs when you are on all fours. 

Jin skids to a stop beside you, crouching before you in the water. He doesn’t seem to care about the way his clothes become soaked. 

“Are you hurt?” He demands. You take stock of your injuries- a scraped knee, a bruised shin, the palms of your hands rubbed raw. Nothing that won’t be gone in an hour or two. 

“I’m fine.” You reassure him. 

He nods awkwardly for a moment and then offers “I could kiss it better?”

It takes you a few blinks to comprehend his words, and even then, it makes you re-evaluate the severity of your injuries. 

“What?” You demand, shocked. He shrugs and looks away. 

“Like when we were kids. I could kiss it better. You used to always refuse to stop crying until I kissed you. We could try that again.” He offers nonchalantly. You must have hit your head. It’s the only explanation. You can only stare, your mouth dropped into an “o”. 

“I guess that’s a no.” Jin finally says, oddly sulky in the way he says it. “Just thought I’d offer.”

You wish you could say that it’s the strangest of his behaviour, but it’s not. The rest of the journey goes like that- if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think Jin was flirting. Albeit, in a weirdly awkward, tentative way. Even Jungkook notices it. 

“Do you think he’s finally gone mad? Maybe the extreme social media detox has made all his brain cells shrivel up and die.” Jungkook whispers conspiratorially one night while the two of you wonder a small village that is throwing a little festival. Colourful lanterns line the streets and the various creatures that inhabit the village are dressed in bright colours. Jin had decided to stay back at the inn but the two of you had wanted to explore. 

“It’s the only logical explanation.” You concede, as much as it physically pains you to agree with Jungkook in anything. 

“All I have to say is, if this is how he flirts I have no idea how he gets so many dates.” Jungkook laments, and your eyes widen. 

“Stop.” You laugh. “He’s not flirting. It’s Jin. He thinks of me like an unwanted houseplant.”

“What if he didn’t, though?” Jungkook asks suddenly. His gaze is probing, and the mood is oddly serious for what you thought was a joking conversation. 

“What?” You ask, caught off-guard. 

“What if he’s actually flirting? Hypothetically. What would you do?” He questions. 

You go silent, as you contemplate your answer. Honestly, you’re not stupid enough to entertain the thought of Jin liking you back. But something about Jungkook’s earnestness has you genuinely considering it. 

“I don’t know.” You finally admit. You sigh, suddenly feeling tired. 

“Can I ask you something?” Jungkook asks, tentative and almost gentle. He tilts his head curiously. “Do you like him?”

The question startles you. It feels like it’s been so long since you came to term with your feelings that you forgot not everyone else was aware of your revelation. Honestly, even to yourself it had filtered to the back of your mind. An unchanging fact, rarely acknowledged. The sky is blue. Jungkook is annoying. You are in love with Kim Seokjin. 

“I do.” You finally admit. You’re reaching the end of the street where most of the festivities are taking place- the crowd is thinning and more distance separates each lantern. 

“Then, if he were flirting... wouldn’t the answer be that you’d date him?” Jungkook asks. He’s pulling a face like he’s working out a rather complex maths problem. “Why don’t you know what you’d do?” 

The two of you settle at the end of the street. Roughly hewn chairs are scattered randomly across the little square. In the corner, a large, greyish being snoozes, and a small group of little humanoid trees laugh over something and chatter in a foreign language. 

“I feel like there’s too much to sort out first. Like... to date him I’d have to be better. I’d have to have a job. And I’d have to have apologised to my mother. I’d need to stop spongeing off the people around me. And maybe live out of home. Be a proper, human adult.” You list. “The me that I am now... I couldn’t date Jin. I’m not... I’m not...”

“Good enough?” Jungkook finishes the words gently. There’s a sad look in his eyes, and it surprises you. 

You nod. 

“Yeah.” You admit, and your voice is oddly choked. It’s weird- you had thought you were at peace with your feelings. You were meant to be happy with whatever scraps of affection Jin threw your way. But you’re not- there’s a deep, miserable ache in your chest that won’t go away. 

Jungkook uses his sleeves to dab at the tears you didn’t even know were slipping down your cheeks. 

“For what it’s worth,” Jungkook offers. “Jin doesn’t actually care about that stuff. The only reason he makes a big deal out of it is because he thinks you’ll be happy if all that stuff works out.” He tells you. “And hey. Someone once told me that the best things are the scariest to start- maybe this is one of those times?”

After that, you call it a night, and Jungkook doesn’t bring the topic up again. But you can’t forget his words. The closer to the portal the three of you draw, the more the ache in your chest grows; the closer you get to going back to normal life. What happens to you and Jin when you step back into the human realm? 

What if Jungkook’s words are true? Would you... would you have to return to normal? Could you have more? Is it stupid that a part of your stupid, traitorous heart longed for it to be true with each new step towards home?

There’s a surefire way to find out; if you ask him. But you can’t. The words die in your throat every time you even consider it. You remember how he freaked out when Jungkook suggested it earlier on the trip. He likely already knows your feelings despite your denial, and it is only your constant denial otherwise that allows the two of you to exist in this strange limbo. If you stopped denying them, he’d have to address those feelings and then what? It would be back to square one- the avoidance and awkwardness as you cling to the shambles of your friendship.

You can’t go back to that- you’ve fought so hard to fix what is between you, to salvage things. Would it be worth risking it, just in the hopes that you and Jin could be more?

The night before you reach the portal, all the nerves and worries you have build up to the point that you find yourself gazing up listlessly at the canopy overhead. The branches interlace and you can perk glimpses of the stars beyond. This is the last glimpse you will get of these stars. You have already decided you won’t come back here. It’s time to stop looking back and only look forward. 

Yet, despite your resolve, despite everything, sleep evades you. Tomorrow, real life awaits. An existential sort of dread has gripped you.

With a sigh, you sit up. To your right, Jungkook has curled into a tight ball as he peacefully rests. But to your surprise, Jin’s bedroll is empty. You’re surprised you didn’t hear him move. 

It doesn’t take long to locate him. Only a short distance away, where the vegetation is a bit lighter and a clear patch of sky shimmers overhead, Jin lounges peacefully. He gazes thoughtfully up at the sky overhead as the starlight gilds his face in breathtaking silver. 

Wordlessly, you step towards him. A twig snaps beneath your feet and Jin whirls around in surprise. When he spots you, he smiles and gentle pats the open space beside him. 

Awkwardly, you settle beside him, hugging your knees to your chest. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” He questions, his eyes closed serenely. The soft sound of wind and distant sounds of wildlife filters through the night air. 

“Yeah,” you admit, your voice heavy with a sigh. He blinks open one eye to peer curiously at you. It’s the most relaxed and open you’ve seen him in a long time. “What about you? You couldn’t sleep either?” 

Jin shrugs. 

“I could have.” He informs you. “But I thought I’d enjoy my last night in this realm instead.”

You raise an eyebrow at that. Jin has made it clear throughout the trip that this journey has been anything but enjoyable. 

“Enjoy?” You say, only slightly incredulous. He nods and opens both eyes to stare up the sky. 

“I’m as shocked as you.” He concedes. “This place has only ever meant bad things to me. It’s why I could never understand your fixation with it.” 

You grimace.

“I kind of get it now, though.” He admits, before you can complain to him. “It’s a pretty beautiful place.” 

“What changed your mind?” You ask, your curiosity piqued. Jin shrugs. 

“You did.” He answers simply. 

“M-me?” You’re not sure why you stutter; perhaps it is the strange look to his eyes as he turns fully to face you. He pulls his knees up to his chest and rests his cheek against them, watching you lazily. 

“Yup.” He says, as if it’s the easiest confession in the world. “When I used to think about this place, all I could think about was the night we fled. My dad didn’t even time to wash the blood off his hands. He grabbed me by the wrist and held on so tight I had bruises. I didn’t want to remember that. I didn’t want to remember the place that had caused us so much pain. And you... you were such a shell. I felt like one of my best friends had died in this realm and I was so angry at what it had taken from me.” His gaze is distant with recollection. “And then I was mad at you, because you couldn’t forget no matter what I did.” He gazes at you. “But now it’s finally given me something.”

You’re startled, by his heartfelt words. You’ve always known Jin hated this realm, hated the way the beings of this realm had driven you all out. But you didn’t know you had such a huge role in his opinion of it. “You.” He finishes. “So I guess I can’t really hate this place after all.”

You’re struck speechless in that moment, and your heart swells with an overwhelming feeling. You already know you love the man before you, but in that moment, you’re shocked at just how much. A feeling bubbles up at the base of your chest- your heart feels fit to burst. 

“What do you mean?” You ask- is this feeling hope? What does Jin mean, when he says the realm gave him you?

Jin merely shrugs. 

“I’ll let you speculate.” He tells you, shooting you a coy smile, an oddly cheeky look that he’s given to his friends before but never to you. But then his expression shifts into something more serious. “I think there are more pressing things to discuss first, though. Like why you’re sitting here with me instead of sleeping?”

The warm feeling from earlier instantly evaporates as you recall the reason for your melancholy. 

“I guess I’m just nervous.” You confess. “About going home. I’ve... I’ve really enjoyed this trip. And I’m excited to go home. But I’m just so...” you struggle to find the word. “So...”

“Nervous?” Jin suggests. He shuffles so he’s just a bit closer. His shoulder brushes yours- if you extended your neck, you could rest your head against his broad shoulders. A strange electricity buzzes through your body at the thought- it reminds you of your fight over the fungus a few days ago. The air had felt strangely charged then as well. 

“Yeah.” You admit, swallowing past a dry throat. “There’s a lot to do, back home.”

“Back home?” Jin echoes, and then his smile turns warm. His mouth carefully forms the word “home” and his eyes wrinkle into two joyous crescent moon shapes. “I guess there is.” He acknowledges. “But you’ve already made the first step. You’re calling the human realm home.”

That startles you. Obviously, it is your home. But you hadn’t realised how instinctive that had become until this moment; at some point the human realm had stopped being that uncomfortable alien place, and had become the place you’re meant to go back to. Home. Jin watches you process the words carefully before he speaks again. 

“You don’t have to be nervous.” He tells you softly. The tone to his voice is oddly vulnerable and delicate. Something delicate hovers between you like the flutter of a pixie’s wing. “You said you wanted to work things out together, right? So, you don’t have to be nervous because I’ll be there with you.”

He looks away and his expression is surprisingly shy. “I know you said I don’t have to be the guy with it all worked out, but I still want to try. It makes me happy. Being there for you. So even if you’re nervous... we’ll work it out together, right?”

It is that exact moment that you figure it out. Earlier, you had been uneasy at Jungkook’s line of questioning. You didn’t feel worthy of Jin’s love and affection, and that made you afraid. Because you couldn’t bear to lose him. You still can’t bear to lose him. But gazing into the warm eyes before you, you know you won’t ever lose him. The two of you have braved death together- you’ll make it through anything. 

You feel lighter then, and you offer Jin a smile. 

“Thank you.” You whisper. Jin smiles back. 

“Any time.” He whispers back to you in answer. 

Sleep comes easily after that, and so too does the end of your journey. All too soon you stand before the portal back home. 

The trip feels like it’s taken a thousand years and no time at all at the same time. By your calculation, the entire journey has taken almost a month, with all the detours and misadventures. That means almost six hours have passed in the human realm. Jin has almost definitely missed his dinner plans, and your mother is probably starting to wonder why you aren’t home yet. 

“What will you do, when you go back?” Jin asks. Jungkook has already stepped through and you’re surprised that Jin is making conversation now, of all times. 

“Apologise to my mother.” You say easily. “What about you?”

“I’m going to save my snapchat streaks and apologise to Joon.” Jin shares. He’s nervously twisting his fingers together. The energy he gives off is like an uneasy teenager about to do a huge public speech. It’s a big contrast from the person her was last night. Like he’s bracing himself for something. 

You thought you’d be bracing yourself too. On the other side is hard work and futile dreams and a bleary, dull city. 

But on the other side is your mother, your friends, your family. Your evil cat waits for you on the other side; the life your father dreamed of for you is on the other side. You had thought that so much in your life is wrong, and now that the portal is here, you realise that it’s not. It’s just life. Things go wrong and things go right. Like the path of a river, cutting through the vast, unknown wilderness. You had been thinking of it this whole time like you’d flip a switch and things would be easy. But that’s not what it’s going to be like on the other side of this portal, and it’s not really what you want things to be like. It’s an adventure of a different kind. 

And it’s an adventure that you want to share... with Jin. 

You remember what Jungkook had said- the best things in life are the scariest to start. And you’re scared now. No, you’re terrified. But if you’re this scared, then you know that this moment is going to be huge. Life-changing. You can’t keep the words in a moment longer. You don’t want to. You’ve spent too long running and fearing and hesitating and overthinking. But you’re confident, that the two of you will survive this even if he doesn’t feel the same way, and you’re ready to take that risk.

The river loves those who take the plunge.

“Jin,” you call, and you thought that if you ever did this that you’d be lost for words. But you’re not. Because you’re finally ready. Last night had solidified that for you. The words come easily. “You remember how you said that I look at you a certain way?”

You turn and face him, and he looks bewildered. 

“Like you’re my hero.” You recall. And then you steel yourself and meet his gaze. It’s the same eyes you’ve known all your life. The same eyes you want to look into for the remainder of your life. “It’s because you are my hero. No, actually, it’s more than that.” You assert, and he just stares, completely dumbstruck. “I look at you like that because I love you. Because I admire you and think you’re strong and brave and kind, and even if you’re not the guy who has it all together, I still feel the same way. And I lied when I said I just wanted you to be my friend. I thought it was enough, but it’s not- I want to be your partner. I want to be your best friend. I want to be your girlfriend.” You say. And then you summon all the exciting fluttering feels in your chest and let it pour into your smile. “I love you, Kim Seokjin.” 

Before you stands something you never thought you’d see. Kim Seokjin, the mastermind behind the Jant, is completely speechless. And then slowly, very slowly, he opens his mouth to give a response. 

“Are you dead?” Jungkook demands as the upper half of his body appears once more through the portal. “It’s been like 30 seconds in that realm which is approximately ten years in this realm if my maths is correct!”

You spring back from Jin. You’re startled at how far you have to step back- had you really been standing that close? 

“R-right.” You stutter. You feel like you’ve been caught cheating on a diet or something equally scandalous. “We’re coming.”

Jin just looks annoyed. 

“No we’re not. Give us a minute.” He snaps at Jungkook, placing a palm against Jungkook’s head and shoving him back through the portal none-too-gently. He then turns urgently back to you. “What did you just say?” He demands. His intensity has you cowering slightly- your bravado from earlier leaves you. 

“I said “we’re coming”?” You recall, attempting to divert the topic, but Jin steps closer. 

“No you didn’t. You said you love me. And that you want to be my girlfriend.” He accuses. 

“If you knew, why did you ask me?” You grumble. And then your expression softens. “But yes. I did say that. And it’s ok if you don’t feel the same. I know you could have any girl you want and I won’t be mad if you want someone else.” You reassure him quickly. He just stares, offering you no indication of whether he’d processed your words. It’s uncomfortable, but you suppose your words were going to be uncomfortable. You’re changing the very nature of your relationship by voicing them aloud. “But if you were willing... maybe you could give me a chance?” You trail away. 

Still, Jin just continues to look at you blankly. He looks like he’s a robot that just encountered a programming error. Hesitantly, you reach out to tap his shoulder, just to make sure he hasn’t died or suddenly been transformed into stone. 

A hand shoots up. It grabs your wrist, halting its movements. Jin’s eyes bug out of his head. 

“YOU’RE TELLING ME NOW?” He all but screeches. You flinch- you hadn’t anticipated a jant in response to your confession. “YOU HAD THE WHOLE TRIP TO SAY YOUR FEELINGS AND YOU SAY IT NOW? YOU COULDN’T HAVE WAITED ONE DAY?”

His nostrils flare as he releases your wrist so that he can point accusingly at you. 

“You had all your chances! You could have said it on the way to the forest spirit! Or when the Saishtas were chasing us! Or when we landed in the ravine! You’ve had literally the whole trip and you wait until right before I’m going to confess?” He spits out in that rapid-fire way that you’ve never seen another person be able to replicate. 

And then you process his words. 

“Wait-“ you say, hoping to abort the jant so that you have enough time to comprehend what he’s saying. 

It’s no use. 

“Seriously! I had a whole plan, (Y/N)! We were going to go to dinner and I was going to buy you flowers and I was going to ease you into it! But no! You just had to beat me to it, and for what? For what? So that you can make a half-assed confession right before we step into an alley next to a brothel?” He laments. 

“It’s not half-assed-“ you protest, because you’d poured your heart out to Jin. 

He steps in menacingly. 

“Take it back.” He demands. Your eyes widen. 

“What?” You cry, defensively. To your credit, you only cower a little which is an impressive feat for someone on the receiving end of a jant. 

“Your confession! Take it back!” He orders. 

“No!” You argue back. “I’m not going to do that.”

“You are!” Jin counters. “You’re going to take it back and we’re going to do it properly, over dinner, and you’re going to have washed hair and I’m going to-“

You don’t let him finish whatever stupid thoughts were filtering through his brain. If he wants a proper, romantic confession, then he’s going to get one! You hear a sharp intake of breath from him as your lips press to his. They’re slightly chapped after such a long period of rough travel, but the sensation is still pleasant. Your heart thuds in your chest and you feel like you’re about to burst. 

It takes Jin a moment to respond. But when he does, it’s with an intensity that is almost frightening. You’re startled by the way he pulls you close. It’s like the electricity from last night, but multiplied a hundred-fold. If you thought your heart was ready to burst before, it is nothing compared to the way molten lava fills your chest when his hands come up to gently cradle your face and deepen the kiss.

When you finally recall that oxygen is something you need, Jin pulls away and searches your gaze. His hands slide down to your waist, resting delicately along the flare of your hips. His face is bright red but his eyes are determined. 

Something about the way he is looking at you has you feeling shy. 

“That was weird, huh?” You stammer, trying to cover the way you feel so completely overwhelmed. “Sorry.” Your heart is dancing in your chest. It’s all too much for one person to feel and you’re just not really sure what to do with the sensation. Did he feel it too? This weird tension, like you’re a balloon about to pop?

Jin doesn’t break eye contact and his tongue darts out to moisten his lips. 

“Hard to say.” He finally says, breaking his long spell of silence. He then grabs at either side of your face, puckering his lips obnoxiously. “I think we need to try again to be sure.”

You barely have time to protest before he’s attempting to pull you in for a second kiss, although you slap a hand over his mouth to halt his advance. 

“Wait!” You accuse. “You can’t just kiss me and not respond to what I said!” 

“I already told you.” He snaps. “Your confession doesn’t count until we do it properly. Now if you excuse me-“ He grabs you by the elbows and tugs you back towards him, attempting to kiss you once more, but you stop him with a hand pressed to his chest. His expression turns pleading. “Just one more time.” He requests.

You swallow, and gaze into his eyes. It’s not an unfamiliar look, you realise. He’s looked at you like this before, but you now realise what the emotion was behind that look. 

“I love you.” You tell him. “I told you like this because yes. I couldn’t wait one more day. I don’t want to wait another day without you knowing. I love you.” You say one more time, just for good measure. 

His expression crumbles and he sighs in resignation, before pulling you tightly against him. His embrace is warm, and secure. It’s no different from all the other times he’s hugged you in your life, and yet nothing is the same.

“Fine.” He says, into the crook of your neck. “But I’m not saying it back until we have a proper date.” 

He pulls out of the hug and the love in his gaze is overwhelming. It’s not a confession, per se, but his intent is as clear as day. 

He loves you. You know he does.

“Deal.” You say back, and his response is his eyes crinkling up as he offers you that special smile, the one that he only shows when he’s really, truly happy. “But you’re paying.”

“How about we save any important conversations for the side of the portal where we’re not in constant mortal danger?” Jungkook demands, his head once more poking through the portal. There’s an awkward silence as he glances between the two of you, and then he groans. “Seriously? You had the entire journey to sort this out and you waited until now? You couldn’t even just leave it until after dinner?”

“Sorry!” You apologise quickly, going to follow Jungkook’s lead through the portal. But a hand wrapped around your wrist stops you- you hadn’t even noticed Jin had grabbed you. 

You turn to gaze questioningly at him, and he shrugs, shifting his hands until he can interlace his fingers with yours. 

“Wait. Let’s go together.” He requests, then pauses. “Can we?”

Something about this moment feels monumental. Huge. You’ve braved enemy encampments, crossed mountains. You’ve gone free-falling into giant ravines and overcome furious forest spirits. 

And yet this moment feels like the start to your biggest adventure yet. From this point on, real life starts. You smile at Jin and he returns it. 

“Yeah.” You say. “Let’s go together.”

Jin’s reply is covered by Jungkook’s annoyed call through the portal:

“What did I just say? Hurry up!”

                                                             ~Fin~

[babybatscreationsv2]

SpiderVerse: Predators ch25

Marvel | Starker

Peter Parker is barely keeping it together. Dealing with Gwen Stacy's death, Harry Osborn going MIA, and MJ refusing to take his calls, has the guy feeling seriously run down. Now to top it off, his uncle Ben is facing serious prison time. Fortunately or unfortunately, New York's own Kingpin of Crime, Tony Stark, has offered him a deal to save his uncle. On a positive note, this Kingpin guy is kind of hot. Is it wrong to sleep with a murderous criminal? 

Rating: Explicit

Warnings under the cut

warnings: mentions of violence, mild degrading language

Peter was on edge. His every waking moment was like drowning in a pool of anxiety. Where was Murdock? Was Harry okay? Would Elsa betray them? And then there was Tony. Tony who could be so fragile when it came to their relationship. Peter didn't know much about his past, but he'd pick up on the abandonment issues. Tony didn't like it when it was away. But Peter had other things to worry about.

May was happy that he was home, though she seemed worried by the change. At least Peter could see that she was doing okay. She was clearly still in pain. Every time something reminded her of Ben she would sob and end up leaving the room to go cry. Sometimes, though, she laughed. The happy memories came almost as often as the reminders of loss. Peter wished he hadn't left. He should have been here with her suffering the same cycle of suffering and grief. He deserved it.

George Stacy had apparently been coming over once a week. He and May had their own sort of potluck night. They each prepared a dish and they ate together which was super awkward now that Peter was home.

Happy also went with May on her regular bingo night. Once a week, they went out for breakfast together. May's social life was far more impressive than his own. Too bad he had killed or driven off every friend he had. It just made him miss Tony more, but at the same time, Tony made him feel lonely. Tony added an extra element of secrecy to his life that took him from 'double-life' to 'triple-life'. Tony Stark was a villain in Spiderman's world. He wasn't much better in Peter Parker's. He wasn't sure who that made him when they were together. The Kingpin's pet? Spiderling? Whatever it was, it was a whole different mentality. Spiderman had a darkness that threatened to come out and kill, but Tony Stark called on a different darkness. One that he could say he liked even less. Yet, he'd gotten a taste for poison and it would kill him if he stopped now.

The only time Peter felt comfortable leaving May alone was when he knew she was with Happy. He didn't know the guy personally, but if he knew Tony, then he knew his life was on the line if he fucked up. Those are the moments that he stole away to soothe what anxiety he could. He went to visit Elsa.

It had been one week since Venom went into Harry's body. Whatever the creature was doing... well, it was doing something. Harry's skin was more normal and less lizard-y now. His legs were back to human proportions. There were a few patches of green skin left, but Peter had hope that a few more days should do it.

Elsa was a train-wreck. Her hair was tangled and stuffed into a bun on top of her head. She kept losing her glasses. Peter came in one day to find her stumbling into things. When he helped her find her glasses, she broke down crying. Apparently she hadn't needed them ever since she first bonded with Venom. The bruises on her shins from running into the coffee table were all reminders that it wasn't there looking out for her.

"It'll be over soon and you can have Venom back," Peter assured her. They sat together on the couch.

Elsa sniffled and nodded her head. "Just a little while longer. I know."

"Have they been able to communicate with you at all?"

Elsa nodded, then she laughed, the sound bursting out of her. "They said 'food'." Peter laughed, too. "I've been feeding them bits of chocolate. Not great sustenance for a human, but it's what Venom needs."

"You made a monster in a lab that only eats chocolate."

Elsa smiled fondly. "They're my monster."

Peter felt a prickling all the way down his spine. He went to the window and looked out. No sign of trouble. Then he heard screams and glass shattering.

"I gotta go."

"Take care, Spiderman."

Peter raced through the city. There was a pit in his stomach that only grew as he continued on. And then finally, he reached Stark Tower.

A crowd, no, an angry mob was gathered around the building. People threw rocks and bricks. Tower security held the doors, but Peter could see a paramedic kneeling over a woman on the floor. People were screaming, chanting. They said Stark had stolen from them, spread drugs through neighborhoods, killed their loved ones.

"What the hell is going on?"

A news van down on the ground was reporting on the scene. Spiderman swung down closer to listen in. The reporter posed in view of the fight to get through the doors. She spoke quickly into her microphone.

"Here at Stark Industries the crowd is growing increasingly violent as Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries, refuses to make an appearance. There has been no comment yet from anyone at SI and no information has come to light about the leak. Police are arriving now with a warrant for Mr. Stark's arrest, but will any of these outlandish claims prove true? The public seems to think so."

Peter swung around the block and climbed up to the top of the tower. The window into Tony's office opened at his touch and he slipped inside.

"Tony?" He wasn't in his office. Peter ran to the hidden apartment, but he wasn't there either. He dialed his cell phone and got no answer. The second time he tried the number had been disconnected.

Peter sat down on the bed. He put his head in his hands. He felt like he couldn't breathe. Everything felt so out of control. Tony was missing and in trouble. He didn't know where to find Murdock. He didn't know if Harry was going to be okay. And May, was May even safe?

Then he got a call over the Spiderman line.

"Spiderman?"

Peter lurched to his feet. "Tony? Are you okay? What's going on?"

"Fucking Felicia Hardy," he growled. "But don't worry about that, sweetheart. I wanted you to know that I'm safe. I need to lay low for a while."

"And then what?"

"We don't have any choice but to play it by ear. I have people working to make this all go away, but if it doesn't work out then I guess there will be no more Kingpin of New York."

"What does that mean?"

"It means throwing away everything I've built and finally retiring. Morocco seems nice."

"You can't leave."

"I might not have a choice." He paused. "Would you go with me, Peter?"

"I..." He stopped and thought. He would have to give it all up, too. Being Spiderman, trying to protect New York, trying to save people. Maybe he could be Spiderman in Morocco, but all of the work he had done would go waste when the villains took over. Maybe another hero would come to replace him. Maybe that would be for the best.

"It's okay. You can think about it. May could come too, you know. It might even be nice."

"I'll think about it. Stay safe."

"Don't worry about me, darling."

"Let me know of there's anything I can do."

"You're sweet, but I won't ask you to murder Felicia Hardy for me. Besides, I want the pleasure."

Peter let out a breath. "If I find her, I'm turning her in for art theft."

"Then it's a race to find her first. Good luck, dearest spiderling." Tony hung up the call.

Peter stood staring at his phone, unsure of what to do next. It didn't seem like there was anything he do to help Tony. He spent the rest of the day trying to get caught up on school, but it was almost impossible to concentrate. Then someone rang the doorbell.

Peter was up and running for the door in a flash. "I'll get it, May," he called.

"Thanks, Pete," she said from the couch. She was watching one of the many nearly identical crime dramas. He pulled the door open and was struck speechless.

Tony offered him a charming smile. "Peter, darling. I hope this isn't a bad time."

"I uh..." Peter blinked rapidly, processing what he was seeing. Tony Stark, his boyfriend, the Kingpin of New York, the wealthiest man on the Eastern Seaboard, was standing on the doorstep of the rickety little house his family only owned because his father's father's father bought after immigrating so many decades ago. The house could have fit in one of Tony's bathrooms which had less to do with the size of it and more because it was shit by comparison.

"Sorry, I didn't call. I had to disconnect everything I own including my car's GPS."

"Uh..." Peter continued to stare, but when Tony shifted anxiously he finally snapped out it, remembering the constant danger. "Come in."

He stepped aside and Tony entered. May looked over the back of the couch.

"Mr. Stark? It's good to see you again," she smiled, but her eyes cut to Peter. The 'what the fuck is going on' went unspoken. Especially since they had something of an unspoken agreement that May didn't trust Tony because Ben hadn't liked him and therefore only sort of approved and only then because Peter seemed happy.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Mrs. Parker. I needed a place to stay the night and Peter said it would be alright if I stayed here."

She looked at Tony then she looked at Peter. "Of course that's fine. Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you."

"Come on, Tony." Peter grabbed his hand and dragged the man upstairs but it was only once they were in his bedroom that he realized what a mistake that was. His walls were covered in posters for tech conventions, Stark Industries announcements, fan posters of other super heroes.

Tony smiled, looking around the room. "This is about what I imagined."

"Why are you here?"

"It's this or sleep in my car and I'd rather be here where I know you're safe."

"What's going on?"

Tony sighed. He sat down on Peter's bed and picked up a Rubik's cube from his nightstand. "Showed up at the safe house to find all of the windows broken and the police everywhere. Since there's a warrant and all, I thought I would avoid that mess."

"May is gonna lose her shit when she realizes you're wanted."

Tony shrugged. "She won't turn me in, though. You know she won't."

"No, but she won't be happy."

"Are you happy I'm here?" He looked at him with the saddest puppy dog eyes. Peter hadn't known he could make that face.

"I missed you."

Tony smiled and Peter couldn't help but smile back. He went to the bed and straddled Tony's lap, letting himself get drawn into a heated kiss.

Peter looked into his dark eyes. "How did all this happen?"

"Well you see," Tony began. "I emotionally blackmailed you and then-"

Peter rolled his eyes. "I meant your company being literally on fire."

"Felicia let the world know that maybe I'm involved with tax evasion, and corporate fraud, and also the drug trade. Everyone's a victim," he sighed.

"You do realize that a lot of people are dead because of you."

Tony shrugged. "A lot of people are employed because of me, too."

"That doesn't fix it."

"Some evils concern me more than others." He trailed his fingers down Peter's chest and set his hand down on his thigh. "I have other concerns at the moment." His fingers brushed over Peter's crotch, his cock instantly taking interest.

"Here?"

Tony smirked. "How many times have you laid in this bed jerking off while you looked at posters of me?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Never. I never liked you that much."

Tony grinned. "Not even for an imagined hate fuck?"

"You think too much of yourself." Peter rolled his eyes, giving him a smile in return. Then he kissed those smirking lips. It felt like coming home. They stay tangled up and making out for a while. Then Peter pushed Tony back to lay in the bed. He stood up and went to lock the door.

He pulled his t-shirt over his head and slipped off his jeans. Tony watched him with hunger as he pulled off his underwear. He climbed back on top of him, kissing him, devouring each other's mouth.

Peter reached down and slowly pulled up Tony's shirt. He slipped down the bed and pressed kisses to his skin. He kissed the softening muscle of his abdomen and pressed his lips to the warm metal of the arch reactor then he kissed the hollow of his throat.

"My spider," Tony sighed. His hands rested on Peter's back. Peter sucked a bruise under his jaw. Tony hand slid up his back and grabbed a fist full of his hair. "My spider," he said again.

Peter licked his lips. He looked into those deep, dark, eyes and found hunger. "Show me," he challenged.

Tony stood, holding Peter in his arms. Then he threw him down on the bed. He pulled off his t-shirt and stood in only his jeans, scarred and strong chest so beautifully on display like a king or a god or Peter's own wet dream. Then he was on top of them, the both of them panting heavy. Peter gasped, whining quietly as Tony pressed kisses all over his body. He clamped a hand tight over his mouth to muffle the noises he made as Tony bit and sucked marks into his skin. On his thighs, his belly, his chest.

"Gotta keep quiet," Tony chuckled. "Your poor aunt will have a heart attack."

Peter grabbed him, pulling him up so their eyes were level. "Shut up and fuck me."

Tony grinned. "I think I've been a terrible influence on you." Peter reached up to the drawer beside his bed and offered Tony a bottle of lube. He took it with only the most devilish smile. He pressed a slick finger into Peter's hole, continuing on.

"You've become greedy, demanding," he pushed in a second finger. "Entitled even."

Peter's legs spread, trying to wrap around Tony's waist and pull him in.

"You're spoiled and rotten. Do you know that?" Tony teased.

"Tony," he panted as Tony fingered him. "Put your fucking dick in me," he demanded and the back of Tony's hand cracked against his face. Peter gasped, then moaned as pain exploded through his face.

Tony stared him down. "Is that what you need? Discipline?"

Peter shivered. His face was so dark, so vicious, like Peter was prey he couldn't wait to devour. "Please," he said.

Tony smirked. "If your aunt weren't home I'd put your right over my lap, sweetheart, until you're kicking and screaming. Give your bratty little ass a spanking."

"Please," Peter moaned.

"Another day, little spider. Now keep quiet for me." Tony reached down and unzipped his jeans. He pulled out his cock, pants just below his hips. Peter moaned as he pushed in, both hands covering his mouth as he tried to be quiet. Tony had found a quieter way of making it hurt, using just enough lube to push inside, but not quite enough. It burned as he pushed deep. Peter legs trembled and he clung to Tony's biceps. Peter whimpered quietly.

"That's a good boy," Tony purred. His eyes shined. The smile on his lips was dangerous.

He took his hands away to beg. "Tony, please," and he kissed him. Peter moaned and whined, sounds muffled by Tony's lips, as he fucked him slow and deep. His whole was body like a live wire, burning, vibrating with need. When Tony's hand wrapped around his cock his lips parted spilling soft whines into the air.

"Hush, little spider," Tony warned. "Wouldn't want Aunt May to know what a whore you are, would you? In here spreading your legs in your childhood bed, demanding to get fucked like a spoiled brat."

"Fuck," Peter groaned through clenched teeth.

"You can't help it can you?" He smirked. "You're too addicted to my cock."

"Yes." Tony tried to move faster and Peter grabbed his hip. "Not yet."

Tony kept moving slowly. He pressed kisses to Peter's neck that Peter answered with a string of kisses down his throat.

"Tony," Peter breathed his name against his skin. "I love you."

Tony answered him, lips brushing against his neck. "I love you, Peter."

"I thought you died, today."

"Never, baby. I'm unkillable."

Peter held his face and crushed their lips together, moaning as they kissed. Tony started to move faster, fucking him just as frantically. It burned. It hurt so good that it made his head spin. He felt his cock dripping onto his belly. His thighs squeezed Tony's hips, probably digging in bruises but he didn't have it in him to care. A hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed. Teeth bit into his bottom lip. He tasted blood and it only drove him higher. Another hand clamped around his mouth and he realized he was nearly screaming.

Tony kept fucking him while he came, gripping his hips when he finally quieted down and driving into him until he was spilling his own cum inside him. He laid down next to him, kissing him frantically until the fatigue set in.

Peter felt like crying. It was too much. Everything was too much, too overwhelming. At least Tony was here with him now. He could keep him safe as long as he was here in his arms.

[donutloverxo]

Salty Baby

Chapter five

Please do not steal or repost my works. Reblogs are welcome.

Summary- When you moved to New York in hopes of living a glamorous life this isn’t what you expected. Steve offers to help you but your pride gets in the way. Pride isn’t going to pay your rent and college loans.

Pairing- Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings- smut, little anal stuff, daddy kink, angst, hurt/comfort, sugar daddy/baby themes

Word count- 2.2k

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four

Masterlist

Not having to work at the cafe or babysit your nephews freed up a lot of time for you. You were used to caring for others, always being busy with something. What the heck are you supposed to do now? Steve suggested getting a hobby. You tried cooking and almost burned down the kitchen.

Steve had been on a mission for two weeks. He had promised to be back in one. Your anxiety was through the roof. This is the longest you had been away from him. You weren’t allowed to contact him. Your worst fear was to find out something bad happened to him through the news.

It was also the first time you were truly alone. At first it was your mother and her delinquent friends and then your loud nephews. Now there was no one . No one to annoy you, nothing to do. Just silence.

Silence was deafening. It made your mind go to dark places, think about dark things. Things you pushed in some corner of your mind. You had to. You weren’t going to wallow in sadness forever.

You deserved to be happy. You kept telling yourself over and over again.

You were making some ramen for dinner after writing a long tedious paper. With your favorite show on, you were set for a nice relaxing night.

You shrieked when you looked at your supersoilder standing in the middle of your living room, almost dropping your bowl of ramen. You hadn’t even heard him come in.

You carelessly dropped the bowl on the coffee table embracing him in a tight hug. His scent overwhelming your senses. You felt tears roll down your cheeks. You were blown away by the relief you felt seeing him safe and sound and the weeks of longing and restless nights spent without him.

He let put a muffled groan before wrapping his arms around you. “I missed you too” He whispered nuzzling his nose in your hair.

You pushed yourself off of him, cradling his face in your hand. “Are you hurt?” You asked.

Steve was always distant when he got back from a long mission. He would still crave your hugs and cuddles, sometimes your body, to switch back to his normal self. You didn’t mind. You wanted to be there for him as he was for you. Your heart broke at the physical and emotional toll his work took on him.

“Oh my god” You cried looking his white t-shirt, now stained with blood around his ribs. You softly touched it with your hand. Taking it back instantly when you heard him hiss. “Why didn’t you get it checked out?”

“Don’t worry about it doll. I heal pretty fast. I just needed to see you” He said dipping down a bit to capture your lips.

You pulled away before he could. Frowning at him. “How could you be so careless?”

Turns out he did have a flaw after all. A fatal one at that.

He gave you a pout tilting his head a bit. By now he knew exactly how to play you. “Oh fine” You huffed. Standing on your tippy toes to capture his lips. You didn’t give in completely though, pulling away after just a few seconds.

You pulled on his hand, dragging him to the bathroom. Your ordered him to sit on the toilet seat while you looked for the first aid kit. You had patched up your mother and your sister a few times but you didn’t have a lot of experience with it. He really should have gotten his wounds checked at the med bay.

You stood in front of him pouring the alcohol on a small cotton bud. You looked at him, he was staring at his hands, his knuckles bruised.

“Hey come back to me” You whispered softly kneeling in front of him, caressing his swollen cheek.

“I should have stayed at the tower” he gave you a small smile “I don’t want you seeing me like this”

“No, don’t say that. I just want you to be more careful. You’re not alone anymore. I don’t mind patching you up or taking care of you”

“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be more careful” He kissed your palm, his smile lifting up ever so slightly.

After stitching up some of his wounds you made him some tea to calm his nerves. You talked about your week while sipping on yours. You asked him about his mission but didn’t pry too much since he didn’t want to talk about it.

After a few hours most of his wounds healed and he seemed to relax. You were both in bed holding hands. Usually your legs would be tangled together while you were pressed tight, holding each other. You didn’t want to agitate his wounds so you chose to keep your distance. It was easy said than done. Two weeks without him, without his body against yours, him inside of you, had left you feeling hot and bothered.

He shifted towards you to get closer to you.

“Steve” You warned him. You couldn’t see his face but you knew he was giving you a cheeky smile. “You can’t sleep?”

“Don’t worry” He said pinching your cheek “Just jetlagged. It’ll come in a while”

You hummed to that. Throwing a leg over him. You propped yourself on your elbow when you felt, what could only be his erection, again your shin.

You smirked grabbing it in your hand stroking him through his boxers. He groaned out your name growing harder in your hand.

“Let me take care of you, daddy” You got up freeing his cock from the tight boxers.

“Shit” He cursed as you fondled and rubbed him in your hand. He particularly lost his mind when you grazed your thumb over his tip, smearing his precum to lube him up. “Do that again” He cried.

You did a couple of times before kneeling on your hands and knees to take him in your mouth. You sucked at his tip licking his slit while fondling his balls. Craning your neck to take one of them in your mouth sucking on it.

“Don’t tease” He demanded manoeuvring your head back to his dick.

With some research and practice you had become an expert at making him putty in your hands. You took his length in your mouth going as deep as you could. You still couldn’t completely swallow him.

He bunched up your hair creating a makeshift pony tail while you bobbed your head up and down on him. Making loud slurping noises. You were determined to take him as far down your throat as you could.

He was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. He felt as if he could cum then and there. He tried distracting himself looking around the room. Only to be met with the silhouette of your ass peaking out of your nightshirt.

He groaned letting go of your hair to squeeze and fondle your cheeks. He brushed his fingers over your folds dipping them in. You were tight, tighter than you normally are. He could tell. You clenched on his fingers moaning around his dick. He had missed that feeling more than anything.

“Get over here” his voice raspy, commanding. He pulled at you dragging you to pull you just above his mouth.

You blushed at the awkward position. You had sat on his face a few times but never while you were sucking him. You were about to protest, you were trying to take care of him not the other way around, when you felt him lick a strip up your pussy.

You shuddered above him as he kept licking and pushing his tongue inside of you, fucking you with it. He pushed at your head. “Keep going”

You struggle to suck him or even stroke him, with him sucking harshly at your clit while playing with your pluckered hole.

You tried your best to keep from gagging as you stuffed him in your mouth and breathe through your nose.

“I’m going to come” you whined as he gently bit your clit “Come with me daddy. Come in my mouth” you plead.

You felt his grip on your ass get tighter as he pulled you in his tongue eating you out mercilessly. You cried out gushing around his mouth. You felt him release spurts of salty creamy cum in your mouth. You swallowed around him not wanting to waste one bit. You heaved trying to catch your breath as you took him out of your mouth.

Resting your head on his thigh tired from your orgasm. You bounced your fingers on his cock like a little trampoline. You giggled to yourself.

“What’s funny?” he asked smacking your ass his voice hoarse and tired.

“Nothing” You tried your best to muffle your laughs as you got off of him. Tucking him back in his boxers.

You wrapped your arm around his neck as he rested his head on your breast humming contently.

“Love you”

“Love you more” He replied on his way to a dreamless restful night after a long time.

***

You had never been a huge fan of Christmas. It was all just a capitalist corporate ploy to get people to buy useless crap.

You used to sulk in your bed being a bit jealous of everyone who got to have a merry christmas. Full of presents with people they love. You never thought you would get to experience it. Until now.

It was the first of December. You and Steve woke up early to buy a Christmas tree. It took a while to get one best suited for your apartment but you were happy with it. It was small and perfect for both of you.

You had bought some ornaments to decorate it. Unbeknownst to you Steve had got some more over a month ago. He was that excited about your first Christmas together.

Your feet were tucked into a warm fuzzy blanket while you sipped on your hot cocoa. It was a hard but rewarding task. You finally managed to get your tree up.

You had jokingly bought some red, white and blue themed balls. He rolled his eyes when he saw them but you knew he secretly loved them.

He plopped down beside you. Smiling at the tree then staring at you.

“What’s up?” you asked him.

“Well I had an idea”

“Uh-oh that’s never a good thin..”

“Since you’ve made my Christmas so happy” He interrupted you “I’m giving you twenty-five presents for twenty-five days of Christmas”

“Steve you don’t have to”

“I finally have a girl I can spoil. I’m sorry sweetheart but you can’t stop me” He waved you off. It was true there was no stopping him when he set his mind on something.

“Here’s uh... here’s the first one” he said bashfully handing you a paper bag.

You smiled at him. You didn’t have it in you to break his heart. You opened the bag pulling out a white dress. You got a good look at it once it was out. It was beautiful. Maybe the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen.

“This...”

“Yeah. I saw you looking at it the other day. You’ll look beautiful in it” He said as you inspected the material running your hands through the sheer net “It’s perfect actually. There’s a party. It’s a white christmas them? I’m not sure. I don’t understand half the things Tony comes up with.”

You had never met Tony or any of his teammates. He had talked about introducing you over Christmas. Which you were excited for until now. You weren’t one to wear make up or pretty dresses. Either you didn’t have the money for it or you didn’t have the time.

“I’d love to meet them” You finally spoke up. He would have to introduce someone like you to his amazing friends. “But this isn’t for me” You tried your best to keep your voice from cracking.

“Is it the wrong size?” He asked.

He remembered Clint telling him to never buy clothes for a woman. 'If it’s too big she’ll assume you think she’s fat. If it’s too small she’ll assume you want her to lose weight.’ He should’ve listened.

You chuckled at him blinking your tears away. “No it’s probably the right size. But it’s not for someone like me.”

“What do you mean?” he asked subtly pulling you into him to comfort you.

“It’s for beautiful girls. I know I know you think I’m beautiful” you shut him up before he could get a word out “But I’m not graceful or beautiful. Are you sure you want me to meet your friends?” you let out a humorless dry laugh.

“Yes I’m sure. You know why?” He asked to which you shook your head no “Because you’re the only one for me. You’re my best girl. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen”

“Steve” You whined covering your face. He always annoyed you with his gush of compliments and his love.

“You don’t have to wear that if you don’t like” He continued.

“Well I can’t say no now” You went back to looking at the dress. It was beautiful. You could pull it off. “Just so you know you’re the only one for me too” You pecked his lips your lips lingering close to his “Promise me this is forever?”

“I promise” He pulled you in to give you a proper kiss.

[demwhore]

Maniac (Mark Lee.)

pairing | Mark Lee x Female Reader | greaser! mark | soc! reader  description: After a sudden drink at the West side with your soc friends, alcohol kicked in your senses; showed up at your ex boyfriend’s home, alone, carrying a shovel and a rose. words | 4k genre | young adult fiction, smut warnings | language, drinking, scenes of making-out, violence. this is a problematic fic because it is based on the novel “The Outsiders” a/n | I do not condone the actions depicted in this fic. This is written for fictional purposes only. I dedicate this to @xuxi-rolls [i love u, thank u] to @hyuck-me​ [hi min thank you!] and @bumblebeenct​ [thank you for proofreading the trash ver.] this was rushed. i apologize.  taglist | @renjunlite @mjlkau @xyyydream @jungcity​  ps | my muse for this is maniac by conan grey

🔙 main masterlist

There are always two sides of everything. Two sides to every coin. For example, in a neighborhood; there is an east side and a west side. There is a fine line between the two, and that is exactly the world you live in. You are a Soc (pronounced as Soches, or short for Socials), as fancy as it is, that is what they call it. This meant that you lived on the west side of the neighborhood; together with other wealthy Socs. Mainly the jocks, cheerleaders, or snobs. The Socs despised the Greasers, so much— to the point, after seeing one, they would either end up slashing out each other’s throats with their fancy switchblades or to get into an old-fashioned fist-fight.  

Greasers. One world but it possesses a lot of definitions. Quite notorious. They were known to be problematic, criminals, a bunch of chaotic guys who always flunk their classes just to smoke and drink, hair literally drenched in grease with leather jackets and ripped jeans. A typical James Dean. They are situated on the East side of the neighborhood. Considered poor, not low-class but, poor, poorer than any Socs, poorer than any of the people alive. They merely survive by committing crimes, or when they are lucky enough— jobs at gasoline stations. 

Greasers. People who have trouble chasing after their tails, and adding to the list, they really have a distinct vocabulary. Which always surprises you. “What’ya try’na do Soc?”

Greasers were known for their bad reputation but even so, you ended up falling in love with one. His name was Mark Lee. It all started when you were about to head home from a night out at the drive-in theater, when Jacob, a Soc that also went to your school, ended up harassing you to be his girl. Wanting to butter your ‘muffins’ since they weren’t buttered at all. You didn’t know what he was trying to imply, but it didn’t seem right and appeared insulting on your part. Mark’s gang happened to cross the path you were taking, and heard your distressed yells of ‘stay away from me’ that Jacob did not seem to understand. The first meeting with Mark wasn’t that extravagant like how prince Philip met Aurora in the forest, it was rather dark; full of sweat, blood, and switchblades. You heard the yells of Mark’s gang telling him to stay the hell out of the Soc’s business but he could see that Jacob just wouldn’t stop and you were on the verge of tears. Mark knew what to do. He had Jacob down in a second. Jacob tried to fight to get loose; he even did for a few seconds before Mark tightened his hold. Jacob laid still, swearing at the greasers between gasps. Then, things turned bad, when Jacob stabbed Mark’s shin with his switchblade. In the end however, it was Jacob who went home ruined and blue. 

“Are you all right, uhm, Socs?” Soc. 

You nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

He rubbed your hair, “You’re an okay kid, Soc. Always have someone, some, er--soc join you on yer’ way home.”

Then he left with his greaser friends. Mark was handsome. You hated to admit, but he was. He was the same type of handsome as a young Johnny Depp, if more, he was gorgeous. His hair was jet black, with the signature grease lingering within. He wore his worn-out denim jeans with a leather jacket that complemented his white shirt underneath. You couldn't see his face clearly, but it was full of cuts and bruises. Yes, they were the guys your parents warned you about. Cigarettes and switchblades. 

Yet you couldn’t stop thinking about the greaser. You absentmindedly poured toothpaste on your hand instead of your toothbrush; mind too occupied by the young boy you met. You had mentally slapped yourself for being so timid, you could’ve done something nice to treat him for saving you from Jacob, or at least ask for his name. It made you insane, head empty except for thoughts of the greaser. You felt hopeless but fate had other plans, since you both crossed paths, again. This time in a local diner, specifically by the concession stand. You insisted on paying for his strawberry shake and from that interaction, the greaser boy stole your heart. You exchanged smiles and names. You felt conscious under his gaze, intimidated even, but Mark proved that their tough appearance was just a façade. Behind the rugged persona hides a boy; who is carefree, a greaser boy that loved you more than his switchblade and comb.

The months you had together were paradise. He never forced you to embrace the greaser culture, and he’d let you do your thing. You were still the awkward Soc girl who wears beige cardigans over a fitted dress shirt and plaid skirt. Eloquent. Articulated. But ever since you’d started hanging out more on the east side, the soc in you started to fade and Mark didn’t know if he should be boasting with pride or afraid. You learn to spat at people, (which made your mother mortified as to where the hell did you would’ve learnt that? You just answered her with a meek smile) both literally and figuratively, the latter one because you’d seen Mark spit as a smoker and the aftermath is an itchy throat. You were staying up late and the alibi you’d use was studying at Amber’s house. The truth is, you were with Mark and his friends at the drive-in theater, making out till the guards kicked you out. 

The memory wasn’t vague. But the movie flashed by the theater’s projector was ‘Rebel without a case’ starring James Dean. It was a good movie, indeed, but you are busy with Mark’s lip at the time. He was more entertaining than the movie you had paid to see. Straddling his lap you found your hands detangling his heavily styled hair. You felt his hands cupping your ass as your lips practically crashed into each other. Teeth to teeth, tongue interlacing. You were timid, but with Mark, it suddenly went away. 

Pulling away momentarily you asked “Are you gonna wham, bam, thank you sweetie, me?”

His brows furrowed as his hot breath fanned your face, “What?”

You grinned, “Nothing.”

Mark rolled his eyes, his hands leaving your body as he struggled to remove something from the car’s cabin. He handed you a rose, and you found the ends of your lips twitching. You took the rose from him and shifted your attention to him. His lips were slightly parted, lips red, hickeys all over his neck. Mark was a guy full of troubles yet he was so charming. There was just something in him that made you feel enchanted, maybe it was his candidness. He doesn’t deny that he isn’t the right guy for you but he is willing to change his bullshit, just for you. The gesture made your heart turn somersaults. 

“Where did you get this from?”

“Well, I’m a penny short and I oughta buy you chocolates but I’ll be late for our date. Stolen these when old man Ricky wasn’t looking.” He admitted with a frown. Your brows arched up, you weren’t expecting a blunt answer yet there he is. He looked adorable with his eyes practically apologizing for his wrong-doings. A surprised laugh came out of your lips. The laughter from you urged him to continue on talking. 

“I might not be rich as the socs in your place but you have my heart and dick.”

You chortled at his statement, “Is that the answer to my statement a while ago?”

“What? The wham, bam?”

“Yeah.”

“Yea, It’ll be cool to play here with peewee.” Mark named his car “Peewee’, a 1950s Chevrolet, 4 door bel air. His lips met yours again, but this time he exerted dominance, cupping the back of your head to pull you closer to him. His other thumb stroked your thighs lightly. Mark’s kiss was deep and passionate. The world around you seems to crumble as you are too absorbed with his existence. He nibbled onto your lip, before brushing over the spot with his sinful tongue. The kiss grew urgent, his hands gripping your waist tightly carefully grinding your figure onto his lap. It made him hard and you were already soaking in arousal. He groped your ass making you yelp. You wanted this. To drown in Mark’s kisses. Mark repositioned his seat to make more room for you before he connected his lips again with yours. His touch was innocent, feathery, slightly climbing its way to your dress to touch your inner thighs.

You felt goosebumps all over your skin. His intimate touches, turned your whimpers into quiet moans against his lips, which in turn, made Mark bring one of his slim fingers to your mouth, silencing you. 

“You oughta keep your voice down, baby.” He mumbled on your lip. The end of his pink lips tugging a smirk. Despite his warning, you kept going, this time trying to hold into  sanity, as the feeling of Mark’s erection sent chills to your spine. You shivered when Mark’s finger wandered to the inner part of your thigh. You immediately pushed your legs apart, allowing his fingers to cup the apex of your thighs, pressing a digit onto your soaked pussy. He played with the elastic band of your panties, then carefully touched your slit. You clit throbbing and eager for his touch.

“You’re soaking wet, damn, all for me?” He cooed. His voice low, lips tickling your ear, “Does it feel good? You wanted to be touched like this?”

“Y-yes, please k-keep going.” You whined, while frantically searching for something to grasp. You arched your hips to get more access to his torturing touches. 

He gave you a sly smirk, “I will, because you asked so sweetly, baby.” He placed a chaste kiss on your lips. Then, he immediately slid in his index finger into your entrance. A sigh left your mouth as you felt your walls stretch; something you’ve never felt before. “Do you feel uncomfortable?”

If a word could explain what you were feeling at the moment, uncomfortable isn’t the correct word to describe it; rather, euphoric. Mark, at this point, had fully inserted his finger to the knuckles. “No, n-no, keep going, p-please.” You whispered as you took a hold of Mark’s shoulders and gripped them for dear life; knuckles turning white. You choked out when you felt his fingers found a spot inside you. Bingo. Mark chuckled quietly, running his tongue over his lips, the sight before him was divine. You, squirming under his touch while he played with your cunt. He prodded the same exact spot again, this time you had to bury your head onto his shoulders to keep yourself quiet.

“Jackpot, baby.”

“A-ah it f-feels good!” 

You squeezed your eyes shut letting the waves of pleasure soak you. You arched your hips to meet his fingers. Letting yourself feel. After one digit, Mark carefully inserted his middle finger, just beside his index. You gasped, it was an unknown feeling; your body twitched momentarily from the sudden sting. Mark met your neglected clit and rubbed it; the sting fading out. You gritted your teeth, ragged breaths leaving your mouth. You felt the arousal building inside you; ready to leave your body. If it wasn’t for Mark’s lips, silencing you, the whole theater would know what you two were doing. He planted a kiss to your cheeks, “You cumming, baby?”

The movie was still rolling, but to you it was just pure noise. You are too engrossed, head clouded, muddled with pleasure. Jim Stark said his great lines, ‘If I had one day when I didn't have to be all confused and I didn't have to feel that I was ashamed of everything’. Mark played with your clit again, his digits busy poking your g-spot, you knew, you were on the edge of coming. Mark pressed your body into his and you trembled against his lap. Your walls tightened against Mark’s fingers. With one last rub, your arousal came, he pulled his fingers away from you. Your panties, now soaking wet. You made a mental note to throw those out to the washer as soon as you go home. Your body collapsed against Mark’s chest. He raised his fingers; wet and glistening with your juice. You felt your cheeks flare when you saw how he popped his fingers onto his mouth, leaving a satisfying groan at the taste of you. You covered your face in embarrassment and felt Mark’s chest vibrate with laughter. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you more.”

 It was fun while it lasted. A typical bad boy and good girl, two teenagers in love. The relationship was almost as perfect for you. You never had arguments with him, because he was so chill about everything you do. Yet then, in the blink of an eye, the relationship turned into a complete fiasco. 

Maybe you were too confident that people wouldn’t stick their noses in other people’s business, but they proved you wrong. You were oblivious to the fact that everyone’s eyes were set upon you. Eventually a rumour circulated around the school you and Mark were attending.

“Did you hear about Y/N, girls?”

It piqued your ears. You stopped your tracks to hear the answer, “Her and Mark, that greaser boy, oh God, he’s crazy and drives her mad!”

You were stunned at the outburst. The only person who knows about your relationship was Amber, other than that, your mouth was completely sealed. You opened your locker and grabbed your books. Just as you slammed the door shut, you came face to face with Avril, the school’s queen bee and apparently, Jacob’s new toy. She gave you a sly smirk. 

“I never knew you’d be the type to date a greaser. That’s just out of your boundaries, eh?”

You raised your brow, completely facing her, “How did you know about that?”

Her smirk widens, showing sets of teeth with a slight smudge of her violet lipstick, “Good ol’ boy Jacob saw you two at the local drive-in. Next day, he had the rumors circulating like shit.”

You folded your arms to your chest, “Listen, what you’ve heard are all just rumours.”

“Oh yeah? Your brother’s gang happened to be with Jacob that time.”

You felt the blood drain from your face. It was now painfully clear; the night you came home, your brother, Jaehyun, wasn’t already home. When he returned, two hours later, he was panting heavily, cuts all over his face, and he was carrying his favorite baseball bat drenched with mud and a liquid colored crimson; blood. You seized her collar and the people around you gasped at your sudden movements. You hissed while she struggled to remove your grip, “Where the hell is Jacob?”

Avril sniggered, “And why should I tell you? So you can save your wimpy little greaser boyfriend? Well news flash he’s a maniac!”

You held her collar more tightly, holding the fabric close to her neck. Avril gasped for air, her arms flailing. She gave in and choked out, “Locker room.” You pushed her away and her body flung against the lockers. The other students jumped away in fear. You glanced over your shoulder, “He isn’t a maniac Avril. He is more of a gentleman than your misogynistic boyfriend will ever be,”. You trailed away, planning on beating Jacob up with one of  your thick algebra books. You could still recall the moves Jaehyun had taught you. Aim at the jaw, because that is the human’s shut off button, and that is what you intend to do. 

It didn’t take you long to find Jacob. After a series of turns, you arrived at the boy’s locker room. As you entered, there were few catcalls heard, but you chose to ignore— hey ya, sexy, as it was pointless— boys with their foul words because they never think with their minds. Jacob stood out among the other lads in the room. He was tall, had blonde hair, icy-blue eyes, a jock, and while it was hard to admit, he was really handsome. But he wasn't the right guy, and you were sure, as he never met your standards. His icy blue eyes widened at the sight of your marching figure, the ends of his lips tugging upward. Feeling triumphant as if he’d won his recent football match.

“Do you wish to continue our little rendezvous?” He gave you a lazy grin. You stopped your tracks and tilted your head a little bit higher to match his gaze. If books could give an exact definition of Jacob, he could be compared with Ares, the god of war; As Homer called him, murderous, bloodstained, the incarnate curse of mortals. But strangely, a coward, too, who bellows with pain and runs away when he is wounded. Jacob only knew how to fight, it's a giveaway, with his nice fit and physique. But he plays dirty and hides underneath a girl’s skirt when he knows he fucked up. He is too much of a coward, never using his brain, rather letting his dick think for him. Him and Mark have a gargantuan difference, and for that, loving Mark, was the biggest choice you have never chosen to regret. 

“What is this all about Jacob?”

He ran a finger through his slightly damp, golden locks. His brows shot upward, his lip jutting out, as if proving to you, what he did was something you should never be mad about. He shrugged, “I just made a psa.” He leaned down to match your height, “Soc girls ain’t for greasers. I was simply just saving you.”

“You aren’t my dad so you don’t go dictating me what to do and what not to do!”

He raised his left brow, “Hell yeah? I cannot accept the fact you chose him over me, Y/N! Are you fucking insane?”

“No. But I am capable of choosing the people who are best for me.” 

“Betcha brother didn’t take the news nicely.” 

You gave him a glare and jammed the algebra book to his face. The reason why Jacob spread those malicious rumors about Mark is because he couldn’t accept the fact that you have chosen grease over money. He had an ego to protect and so, he went lashing out, ruining someone else’s image. You stormed out of the locker room to search for your brother. He must’ve gone mad at this point. The thought gave you chills, Jaehyun beating Mark to death. You could recall how he wore his adorning rings earlier in the morning before you both left the house. Those rings had helped Jaehyun beat someone into pulp, almost killing his foe with it. Bullshit. You had algebra at eight, but you have chosen to flunk it. Worried to death, all you could think of was mark.

Jaehyun seized Mark’s now bloodsoaked white t-shirt. Jaehyun felt extreme frustration, he couldn’t control the shaking of his fists as well as the baring of his teeth. Jaehyun made a beeline for Mark’s jaw, and not content with the results; he made another uppercut, straight into the greaser’s gut. Johnny released his hold on Mark’s shirt. At that moment, Mark couldn’t think straight; it was as if his mind had been a finished puzzle and Jaehyun’s assault had it jumbled to pieces. The greaser clenched his stomach; his head was throbbing like hell. He could almost taste the bitter, salty taste of bile. Fucking hell. Jaehyun surely shook the greaser’s system, like literally. 

Jaehyun held his wrist and twirled it. He ignored the stinging sensation on his cheek. That wasn’t one of his concerns. His cheeks could wait but his fist couldn't. What Jaehyun hated and was concerned about the most was having a greaser fuck with his sister. It was just an overall no for him. Also, the fact that Jacob blurted out the news while he was in the midst of a football game just made him more of a misanthropic jock wanting to choke the hell out the guy who played with his sister. 

Jaehyun breathed. “Stay the hell out of my sister’s life, greaser.”

Mark spat out blood. His voice was hoarse. “Why should I do that?”

“Because I said so.”

“Hell no, soc. I ain’t doing what’cha want, just because y’all want me to.” 

Jaehyun’s patience was paper thin and the fact that his day wasn’t getting any better was wearing him down. “You’re testing my patience, huh greaser?”

Jaehyun nodded towards Johnny and the center gripped both of Mark’s shoulders. Mark gulped hard, trying to wiggle his way out of Johnny’s grip, but the guy was just big, he stood no chance. 

Jaehyun gritted his teeth. Mark’s eyes trailed down the shiny metal Jaehyun was holding, a switchblade. Jaehyun twisted the blade elegantly in his hands. Mark never felt fear in his life, it was the emotion he had long forgotten. But he stood there, defenseless, with the socs dominating him, all he could do was to wait for his fate, or his death. “Stay the fuck out of my sister’s life, greaser.”

A girl's voice shook the three. “Jaehyun! Stop!”

You stood there disheveled, as if you had just run a few kilometers. Your blouse is crumpled, the first buttons were well, unbuttoned. Your chest rises with every exhale you make. Your eyes trailed at Mark then towards your brother. “Jaehyun, stop.”

Jaehyun glared at you. He never looked at you like that, ever. 

His tone was strict. “Go back to your classes.”

“Jaehyun, I-”

“I said. Go. back. To. your. Classes.” 

You stood there dumbfounded, staring back at your fuming brother. Then, he yelled at you, snapping you out from your daze.

You fucked up.

Years. You are not allowed to go out alone anymore. The last contact you had with Mark was the time, he and Jaehyun were ‘talking’. No proper goodbyes, no proper closure. You had blamed Jacob for all of that. You were beyond frustrated, you missed the boy who made you feel like a human, alive, loved. But, now he only exists in your memories. Markie and his goofish car, peewee. 

Present time. 

“Hey Y/N!”

You squinted. Madonna’s songs played loudly in the local diner. Your vision blurred while trying to find the familiar figure of Amber. 

“Hey Y/N!”

“Whaaaaat?!”

You leaned on the diner’s counter. The alcohol had taken a toll on you and all you wanted to do was to dance the night away with Material Girl playing loudly in the background. You pumped your fist in the air, head bobbing up and down, you started to dance carelessly towards the dance floor. Having to drink alcohol had your appendages work on their own. You leaned too far and had your body bumping on someone else’s.

You slurred. “Sorrrry.”

Amber cursed under her breath. “This girl is unbelievable.”

You continued on, singing on the top of your lungs, “I’m a material giiiiirl!”

Amber mustered her strength to grab you out of the dance floor, and to avoid you practically flailing your body towards the other college party-goers. 

I made it through the wilderness. Somehow I made it through..

You shoved your body through the crowd to sluggishly approach your car. Head empty, intoxicated with alcohol and all you can think of was Mark. 

You pulled over the familiar neighborhood. The darkest pits of the society. You eyed the shovel in your trunk and the rose, a random guy handed to you earlier. You approached the door and pounded harshly on the door.

The door opened with a loud hiss. And the guy you’ve been yearning for, stood before you. He eyes the rose and the shovel in your hands. A slow smirk painted his lips. 

“What’ya doin’ here?”

“Mark.”

“I’m done with you. Cause people like you always want back what they can't have. But I'm past that and you know that. So you should turn back to your rat pack, tell 'em trash.”

[goblinmanifesto]

Ive already accidentally deleted this once so fucking kill me (I forgot to save it).

⚠️TW FOR ANXIETY, TOURETTES, SLIGHT SELF HARM⚠️

But this is my post for @doinmybesthere Mental Health Awareness May collab! I will be doing Bokuto Koutarou. To explain a bit, to cope with bullshit that is life, I accidentally made myself a coping mechanism that I loving refer to as the ‘Klaus Hargreeves‘ (if you know anything about that character, you already know where my mental state is) because I can’t remember what my therapist said the actual name for it was. To put it simply, it’s like overactive day dreaming. I act out and create scenarios in my head to comfort myself, most of the time using characters or real people as an enabler for the comfort I wish to gain. Side effects being; if caught, considered crazy, sometimes don’t realize I’m doing it which can lead to awkward situations, sometimes I fuck up what’s real and what’s not. So, in these little stories, I will be retelling scenarios I have created through this coping mechanism that relate to both Bokuto and my mental problems! Each will be labeled with what they deal with so you can skip the one that might trigger you. Enjoy and happy reading! (I WILL ALSO BE MENTIONING AND USING STIMMING) ((I will probably use this to make other fics like this in the future mentioning my other ~stuff~ but in the meantime this is all I want to do so enjoy!))

⚠️LAST TW⚠️

1. ~Anxiety, Self harm, Mentions of Stimming~ He should’ve been home an hour ago! I was pacing in the living room, shaking hands holding my phone. It was 7:13 and Koutarou was supposed to be home at 6:00. I was spiraling and I could feel it, but I didn't know what to do about it. Id sent him text after text, but he was yet to respond. I glanced at my cell, only stopping my frantic shuffling to focus my attention on reading the screen;

Hey, is practice running late? [6:11] When do you think you’ll be home? [6:15] Are you there? [6:19] Koutarou??????? [6:23] Kou pick up your damn phone! [6:27] Did something happen???!! [6:34] Is everything okay?! [6:39] Are you mad or something??? [6:47] Bokuto Koutarou I’m dead serious where are you?!?!?! [6:53] Bo-ku-to!!!! [6:59] Koutarou it’s been hour please text me [7:07] Koutarou!!! [7:12] -Unread-

My eyes scanned the messages again, not leaving the blue screen until until my shin collided with the side of the coffee table. I hadn’t even realized I had started pacing again. I checked the texts I had sent to Akaashi as well, since I knew he was at that practice too, but I hadn’t gotten any responses from him either. Slipping my phone screen up onto the table I continued my pacing, not even processing when my finger nails found their way under my teeth, and how when they left my mouth to scratch at my neck or claw at my shirt, my teeth resorted to gnawing at my lip instead, tearing up the thin skin. All habits I was trying to kill but didn’t have enough brain power to focus on not doing them. My eyes constantly searched the driveway for the headlights of any car, any car at all, but they always came up with nothing. It was 7:24 when my phone struck with the sound of text, the bing of anticipation sent me diving for, and consequently almost dropping, my phone in an attempt to find out if it was Koutarou. It was!

Hey, is practice running late? [6:11] When do you think you’ll be home? [6:15] Are you there? [6:19] Koutarou??????? [6:23] Kou pick up your damn phone! [6:27] Did something happen???!! [6:34] Is everything okay?! [6:39] Are you mad or something??? [6:47] Bokuto Koutarou I’m dead serious where are you?!?!?! [6:53] Bo-ku-to!!!! [6:59] Koutarou it’s been hour please text me [7:07] Koutarou!!! [7:12]

-Read-

Im so sorry!! Yes practice did end up running late! But something else happened and I

wasn’t able to text you! I’m not mad about

anything I promise!! What happened is also

minor and nothing to worry about and I’ll explain when I get home in about ten

[7:21] minutes!! I’m so sorry!! -Read-

I sighed, relieved, the weight on my chest and in my head dissolved and I felt like I could finally breathe again. Though, as I came down from my anxiety rush, I became aware of a lot of things all at once. The first was a good deal of pain. From knocking my leg into a table and pacing for over an hour, to bitten lips and nails, and my scraped neck. I groaned, I need to get a better handle on this.

But that wasnt important. Koutarou was okay and on his way home! I waited at the window, feeling a bit like a dog waiting on its owner (that was a kink joke yes), and leaped to the front door when I saw his car in the driveway. Throwing open the door, I pulled him inside the second I could get my hands on him and pulled him through the doorway. The moment he was inside, I shoved myself into his arms in a tight hug, so glad he was okay. He returned the hug and held me tightly, I let out a shuddering breathe and he let out comforting sounds I sometimes use to stim. “Hey, hey, hey, I’m so sorry to have you worry, it was about Akaashi! We were running extra practice with a handful of the other guys and I literally had half a text to you written out when he a spike to the face! I was the only one left with a car so I drove him to hospital! I’m so sorry you are so worried you sent like 15 texts! I’m so-“ I cut him short with a hand over his mouth since that was one of the only ways to get him to stop talking. “Kou, it’s okay, I understand, it just really scared me ‘is all-“ he pried my hand off his face but held it in his own.

”I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t apologize for it, whether I was in complete control of the situation or not! Which I was not, by the way, no control what-so-fucking-ever, I had four other guys in the car and one of them was bleeding and concussed, it was chaos!!” His eyes were wide and he went off on the stress of the situation and, for a moment, I forgot that it was 7:26 at night on a Thursday and I had a biology test in the morning, and that Koutarou just got home and I hadn’t even eaten yet and all the other things that werent right in the world. Everything was fine in that moment. But that ended when Koutarou took a good hard look at me. The redness and scratch marks on my neck, the bitten to bleeding finger nails, the small bruise forming on my shin, my blotchy face and my probably-way-too-red lips. He stopped dead in his words and I felt my eyebrows scrunch up.

“Whats wrong?-“

“You did the things again didn’t you?!” He sounded distressed and his broad shoulders sunk. Koutarous hands rubbed my shoulders as he stared into my eyes with the most concerned look I’d ever seen. He pulled me back to his chest again and promised it wouldn’t happen again.

7:46, Koutarou insisted on taking care of my ‘injuries’ since he was who I was having anxiety over anyway. I protested a little, but gave up when he gave me the baby-owl eyes.

First, he had wrapped bandaids on my fingers. Thankfully, they were black, and I made a comment on it was like a 2-second manicure just to hear him chuckle.

Then, Kou applied a moisturizer to my neck. “Kou, I can do this myself-“

”Nope! I insist!”

”I’m not a child-“

”Don’t care, I’m doing it so just shush up and let me do what I need to do!”

Next, he made me apply ice to my bruise even though it was tiny and caused by a damn two-foot-tall coffee table.

Lastly, he gave me chapstick. Again, wouldn’t let me do it myself, so I made several sarcastic remarks to make him blush, all working quite well. Koutarou had to tell me to stop giggling multiple times so I could stay still.

”Alright, are you done playing nurse?”

”Forgive me for wanting to take care of you!!” He stuck his tongue out at me with an audible “bleh!” and I cackled.

”You are forgiven, Nurse Bokuto.”

2. ~Tourette’s, Stimming~ My neck painfully popped when it jerked to the left, my tics had been bad all day and I no clue why. Could be exams, or the fucking toaster for all I knew. I hissed, rubbing at my neck and adjusting the water can I almost dropped, trying to continue about my Saturday.

It was obnoxious, really, having to me-proof everything around in case I end up kicking it, dropping it, or hitting it. My joints constantly cracking and snapping and jolting in the strangest ways at any given moment. Sometimes repeating what people say back at them in perfect mirror-like fashion. Though that last one can be kind of funny.

Clicking my toungue to make nice noises to try and stim the tic away, I returned back to my plants. I could feel them chuckling at me and, in that moment, I understood everything about Crowley from ‘Good Omens’.

I heard the door unlock in the other room and I put my can down as a precaution and peeked out of the doorway.

A moment later, Koutarou popped through the door after his morning jog. He called out; “Hey, hey, hey!” as a greeting.

I felt my hands go up behind my head and I thought Oh gods dammit, and then my jaw jutted forward in a very unattractive way and I repeated his phrase in the same manner as him, then immediately dropped, as my body decreed.

I groaned, looking up at him, who looked slightly bewildered at my little madness ritual. His hair laid flat on his head, he had chosen not to mess with it this morning, much to my delight, his amber eyes a little wide and his eyebrows raised. He was barely even in the house yet.

We just kind of stared at each other for a hot second before I awkwardly waved ‘hello’ and cracked a weird grin. He grinned back, his more pleasant than mine. Walking over, he opened his arms for a hug, and I accepted, since he wasn’t all that sweaty this time around, and it was the least I could do since he had to witness that.

Koutarou planted a kiss on the top of my head, cheering “Good morning!”

I muttered a response into his shirt.

“One of those days, huh?” I nodded.

“Coffee? I think we have muffins in the cabinet?” I nodded again and he lead me into the kitchen to set up some breakfast. It was 9:00 am on a Saturday after all. A weird Saturday, but watching Koutarou finagle through the cabinets, it couldn’t be that bad.

That is all for now! Have a wonderful day and I am going to sleep for three years see y’all (edited: June 18 2021, because I can’t spell)

[simsadventures]

Knight in Shinning Armour

Summary: You and Bucky tiptoe around each other for the longest time, unable to follow your hearts, until the compound gets attacked and one of you gets hurt, that is.

Warnings: mutual pining, angst, fluff, smut, sexy talk (whatever I mean by that), implied smut

Pairing: Bucky x plus size! reader

Word Count: 2333

A/N: This little story was requested by the sweet @rainbowunicorns92 (who I can’t seem to be able tag, for some bloody reason) and I’m horrible for taking so long to actually write it! Also, I wasn’t feeling too smutty, so I hope this will be ok. So so sorry love, hope you’ll enjoy it nevertheless, and that it is what you asked for :) Hope everyone else will enjoy reading it as well, and you know, feedback is gold so please, tell me what you thought :) xx

P.S.: I chose Lion King as the go to movie, because that’s my all time favourite. Don’t judge me :D

Full Request: Hello! I was the awkward turtle that ask if you take requests haha🙈 but I was wondering if I could request a Bucky x plus size reader where the reader is really sweet, shy, insecure and a Disney nerd and one day the Avengers compound gets attack and the reader gets hurt and Bucky confess his love to her? Fluffy smut? I’m sorry this is a hot mess haha! I’m new to this haha! Merry Christmas 💘🎄☃️❄️

Bucky Barnes Masterlist __ Masterlist

It was another quiet evening in the compound. You were seated in your favourite armchair in the common room, snuggled in your plush grey blanket with a cup of tea in your hand, watching the Lion King for the 1000 times.

You wouldn’t say you were addicted to Disney movies, you just liked them better than any other movies. Easy as that. You were at the part which always got you, Mufasa’s death, and even though you knew it would happen, tears welled up in your eyes. You just hated to see little Simba teary-eyed, trying to wake up his dad.

You felt somebody’s presence behind you, and when you turned around, you could see Bucky leaning against the door frame, watching the television with a frown on his face. You tried to make yourself invisible.

You had this big fat crush on Bucky ever since you joined the team as another super-soldier, even though your super strength didn’t reside in your body, but in your mind. And the little rolls of fat on your stomach were a great example of that. Not that you hated the way you looked, it was just that you weren’t exactly the top-model type, let’s say like Natasha or Wanda. You were just… you. And you were sure that somebody like Bucky would never go for somebody like you, so you just never said anything.

Staying friends with him was just fine with you, at least you tried to make yourself believe that. You definitely didn’t need him to think you were some weirdo who watched Disney movies all the time, being able to quote most of them line by line, singing all the songs.

You tried to reach for the remote control and switch it off, but then you heard Bucky say something under his breath, which sounded awfully like why the hell did he let those wildebeest stamp on him.

You raised your eyebrow and let the movie play, trying to see if you heard right. Your suspicion was real enough because, in a few minutes, Bucky was seated on the nearest couches to you, his eyes still glued to the screen.

“What kind of a fairytale is this? His dad just fucking died!” Bucky mumbled, his forehead still crunched, pout on his lips.

You snorted out a laugh, which made Bucky look at you and his frown even deepened.

“Why are you laughing, doll? This ain’t funny! This is fucking heartbreaking, and I’m not sure I wanna see more of this movie!”

“C’mon, Buck. I promise it’s only gonna get better. But this tragedy had to be there for the story to unfold properly, you know? And it also teaches us that we can lose those we value the most in a heartbeat and that we should really waste no time in telling them just how much they mean to us.”

By the time you finished your little speech, you weren’t sure if you were still talking about the movie, or if you were suggesting something a little deeper. You bit your lower lip, returning your attention back to the television as if you just didn’t have that little outburst.

You could see from the corner of your eye that Bucky was still watching, his sole attention on you. You knew that if he figured out what you were feeling, things would change between the two of you, and not for the better. And you didn’t want to risk your friendship for something as stupid as love. It just wasn’t worth it for you.

You could hear Bucky taking in a breath, and you just hoped he would turn back to the TV and let it go. But that wouldn’t be Bucky.

“Look, Y/N, are you talking just about the film? Or are you referring to something else as well?”

You shook your head, your eyes still glued to the screen.

“Nope, just the Lion King. What else could I possibly have in mind?” You asked, trying to sound as incredulous as possible, hoping your acting performance was good enough for Bucky to stop bugging you.

“Well, I-“

Crash

“The Avengers Compound is under attack. I repeat. The Avengers Compound is under attack. The left-wing has been compromised,” sounded from the speakers, as FRIDAY gave you a report on the attack.

You and Bucky exchanged horrified looks, before you both jumped out of your seats, running towards the left-wing. You were not as fast as Bucky, even though you’ve been trying to get in better shape lately.

You could see he was holding back for you, not running to the best of his abilities.

“Go, Bucky! I’m right behind you, but you need to go and try to have a look at what the fuck is happening,” you yelled at him, trying to be louder than the sirens booming across the whole building. Across the hall, you could see Steve running like a madman with his shield in his hand.

“What if something happens to you, Y/N?” Bucky asked, looking back at you.

A smile spread on your face, and you shook your head at him. “I’m an avenger as well, Buck. I’ll be just fine. Just go and be a hero before Steve gets all the praise!”

Bucky laughed at that, and checked you once again, trying to look for any hesitation in your features. When he couldn’t find none, he nodded, his face going rigid, preparing for the fight. He put on the full mode of his speed, and before you knew it, you were alone in the hall.

Well, not completely alone. You were about to turn the corner when you heard rustling from the other side of the hallway. You swiftly turned around, only to see a guy all in white running towards you, with a machete in his hand.

You only had time to duck, gasp leaving your lips as you did so. When you came back up, you felt an elbow hitting your ribs and a dull pain that followed and spread through your whole chest.

Your powers, being close to telekinesis, suddenly came in handy big time. Before he could hit you again, or worse, impale you on his fucking machete, you sent him flying against the opposite wall. The attacker tried to run towards you once again, but you were prepared this time.

Instead of sending him against a wall, you sent him flying out of the nearest window, shattering it in process. He fell through with a shout, and you had a little while for yourself, checking if your ribs were broken, but the only thing you could tell was that it hurt like hell and that if nothing else, the bruise would be massive.

You hissed as your fingers brushed against the skin on your ribcage, making a mental note to have somebody check it once this shitshow was over.

You wanted to get to running, but the pain shooting through your whole body wouldn’t let you do that. So you settled for a high-tempo walk, breathing through your mouth, and probably sounding like one of those crazy runners you often met in Central Park. All you could hear was whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, and if you weren’t in a deadly situation, you would probably even laugh.

You reached the left-wing corridor pretty soon, seeing that your fellow Avengers had it mostly under control. But just to be sure, you swiped a few guys against the walls, hard enough to knock them out.

Bucky was just fighting one of those attackers when he suddenly stood alone, his attacked splashed against the wall, falling down like a sack of potatoes. He knew it meant you were there, and you were ok, and he let himself relax a little.

Ever since he left you in that corridor, he had this uneasy feeling of you getting hurt while he wasn’t there, but from the looks of the guys passed out on the floor, you were as good as new.

He turned around to face you and smiled at you before he marched towards you and hugged you tightly. He had never done something so bold with you, but he just couldn’t help his giddiness. You were alright, and that was pretty much all that mattered.

It was only when you hissed almost inaudibly, and if he weren’t a super-soldier, he would have probably missed it. But he didn’t, and so he pulled away from you, inspecting your face. He could see you were trying to have a brave face, but underneath this courageous mask, you were hiding pain. And his blood started to boil.

“Where are you hurt? Who hurt you? Talk to me, Y/N!” Bucky almost shouted in your face, and you had to blink a few times from all that was happening. First, he hugged you as if his life depended on it, and now his seething face was all you saw.

“I’m fine, Bucky. Some idiot jabbed me in my ribs, but other than that, I’m good. I sent him on a flight from one of the windows, so I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

“I don’t have to worry about it? Are you fucking kidding me? He could’ve killed you! He could’ve killed the woman I love, and I wasn’t even there to protect you. So don’t tell me to not fucking worry about it. I’m gonna find him, and I’m gonna rip his limbs off of his body, one by one. He’ll wish he never even looked your way!”

Bucky hissed and wanted to march out of the room and towards the window you were talking about, but a soft hand on his chest stopped him in his tracks. He looked at the hand, and then at your face, which looked like a mix of awe and happiness.

“What did you just say?” You asked quietly, not really trusting your own voice at the moment. Bucky, the man you wanted more than anything in the world just told you he loved you, and you were sure as hell gonna address it. It was now or never.

“I said I’m gonna kill-“

“Yeah, I don’t mean that. I mean, what did you say about me? Did you mean it?” You tried not to be too hopeful, but your heart was failing you. Hard.

Bucky seemed puzzled until he realised what he just said out loud for the first time.

“I-uh, yeah, that! I mean, I like you, Y/N, like, you’re kinda amazing, but if you wanna be just-“

You didn’t even let him finish his rambling and pulled him closer by his collar, and kissing him passionately. Your shyness was suddenly nowhere to be found, Bucky’s love confession pouring new-found confidence to your system.

You were starting to worry that he wouldn’t kiss you back, but just as you were pulling away, beginning to feel the disappointment kicking in, his left arm snaked around your hips, pulling you closer, while his right hand found its way to the back of your head, cradling it, and interweaving his fingers with your hair.

He pulled your hair from its roots ever so slightly, but the pressure on your scalp made you gasp into his mouth, giving Bucky the perfect access to your tongue. He kissed you with so much fervour, taking your breath away by every swipe of his tongue against yours.

You were putty in his arms, and you were just kissing. You just hoped this could be continued in one of your apartments because the fire he ignited in your body could not be put down easily. In fact, there was only one thing that would satisfy you, and it was now well hidden in Bucky’s pants.

Bucky’s mind probably wandered the same way as yours, because he suddenly hauled you in his arms, and started to walk away from the mess left behind after the attackers. From the corner of your eye, you could see your teammates watching you with raised eyebrows, but they had enough of their own issues to care that the two of you finally admitted your very obvious crushes.

“Bucky, let me down. I’m too heavy for you to carry,” you whisper against his neck, sucking a hickey there.

Bucky stopped immediately, making you look up at him.

“Stop talking like that. You’re light as a feather for me, and I would be damned to let my dame walk such distance!” He scoffed and returned to walking. You giggled like a schoolgirl, letting him do as he pleased. You would be lying if you said it wasn’t another confidence boost for you, that Bucky didn’t see you as this big girl, and was willing you carry you anywhere. Ok, maybe now just to his bedroom, but still.

When you finally reached his door, Bucky was panting heavily, and it was not from your weight. You could feel his very hard member pressing against his pants, and right against your ass, which was bouncing as Bucky walked, adding another pleasure to his body.

“You keep wiggling that cute ass of yours a little longer, and Imma take you right against this door,” Bucky hissed to your ear.

Bucky pressed you against the wall next to his door, trying to fight with the door handle, but because he pushed you a little too hard, his enthusiasm evident from his moves, you hissed in pain again.

He let you to your legs immediately, cradling your face in his hands.

“Did I hurt you? Talk to me, doll.”

You smiled and kissed his nose sweetly. “Maybe let’s just not have crazy rough passionate sex tonight, huh?”

Bucky smiled at you like you were his sun, and caressed your cheek.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

“Good, but also promise that once I’m all healed, you’ll give it to me good!”

Bucky laughed, throwing his head back before he looked back at you and winked.

“Oh, you bet doll. You fucking bet!”

Bucky Taglist

@this-kitten-is-smitten​ @paradisiacalsparks​ @crazybutconfidentaf​ @owlyannah​ @lassini​ @s-trawberryv-eins​ @reniescarlett​

Marvel Taglist

@voltage-my2dlove​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @lumar014​ @ptrs-prkrs​

Forever Tag:

@eileenalone​ @sasbb23​ @p8tn0lish​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @waiting4inspiration​ @caswinchester2000​ @mogaruke​ @justthatfangirloverthere​ @mushyjellybeans​ @livsheph​ @sebbbystaaan​ @notyourtypicalrose​

[theskywaslookingback]

Intimacy

Content Warnings: Martin has a couple of anxiety moments that border on panic attacks. There is also a discussion about consent where Martin feels he may be making Jon do something he doesn’t want to do, though this gets resolved. This has been given a T and up rating.

Jon wakes up in a honey cocoon of warmth, trapped under the weight of Gerry’s arm slung over his chest and Martin’s leg hitched over his hip. He drifts there in that sweet in between, drunk on the relief of sleep he so rarely gets, and has half a mind to fall back asleep that way. The sun is just barely beginning to creep in through the half slotted shades of their window casting soft hues of yellow and orange across the light linen of their bedding. It’s enough light to make out Martin’s dark eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as he dreams, the soft spill of freckles across the bridge of his nose. In the end that’s what keeps Jon awake, tracing the line of freckles with his eyes and then, eventually, with the gentlest touch of his hand.

Martin hums when the movement wakes him, despite Jon’s care not to do so. His eyelashes flutter and then warm brown eyes are watching him, sleep soft and half amused. Martin takes hold of Jon’s wrist and brings his hand down to press a kiss to the center of his palm. 

“Hi,” Jon whispers, his fingers curling to brush Martin’s cheekbone.

“Hi,” Martin whispers back, his mouth pressed against Jon’s skin.

Gerry breathes out heavily against Jon’s neck, and his hand tightens its hold on Jon’s shirt. His voice, when it comes, is rough and dry, “Hush. S’early.”

Jon laughs. It was a kind of startled sound, like Jonathan Sims wasn’t used to laughing, a kind of punched out breath of a noise. He feels Gerry grip him tighter, the baring of teeth against his throat like an animal. 

Martin pitches forward across Jon’s chest to kiss the top of Gerry’s head.

Gerry bats at him irritably, but when he finally picks his head up there is no anger in his eyes. He does look exhausted, though, dark circles under his eyes and a furrow in his brow. 

Martin must see it too because he settles back a little, his mouth turning down in a worried little frown. His hand curls around the back of Gerry’s head, and Jon can see his fingers rubbing little circles against the taut skin there. “Sorry.” Martin mumbles.

Gerry shakes his head, his hand curling around Martin’s wrist to keep his hand in place.

There is something between Gerry and Martin that Jon doesn’t understand, though not for lack of trying. He can see it now, in the tremble of Martin’s jaw and the sudden sober wakefulness on Gerry’s face. He tries not to feel that familiar awkward ache in his chest that reminds him there will always be things about his partners that he doesn’t understand. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Gerry says, clearing his throat.

“I--” Martin rushes out an exhale of a breath, an anxious sound Jon is all too familiar with.

Jon may not understand the nuances of speech that Gerry seems to be able to pick up on with Martin, but that sound he’s familiar with. He tucks himself closer to Martin, wriggling against him until he can press his head under Martin’s chin and tuck himself into his body. Jon is all bone, sharp elbows and hard skull, but he pretends not to notice the little flinches when he digs in wrong. He doesn’t settle until Gerry presses a hand against his spine to keep him still, and then he feels Gerry settle in close behind him. They’re crowding Martin, something that would ratchet Jon’s anxiety into a full blown panic attack, but has never failed to soothe Martin. He told them once he liked the closeness, that it reminded him he wasn’t alone. That they needed him.

“It’s alright.” Gerry says, once they’ve settled. “I can take a nap later.”

“Okay.” Martin breathes, slow and deliberate, and Jon can’t help but press a kiss to the center of his chest for it. Proud. “Yeah, okay.”

Jon feels Gerry’s hand in his hair, brushing it out of the way so he can press a kiss to the nape of his neck. It makes him shiver. Martin’s hand settles over his hip, big and warm like the rest of him and Jon tries to press in closer. He wouldn’t be satisfied even if they could share a body, he thinks, there was no true way to ever have them close enough. 

Martin’s legs tangle with his, bare feet brushing against Jon’s socked ones, and Jon is suddenly struck with a want so frantic it makes his head swim. 

Jon starts to squirm again, this time in an effort to put some distance between their bodies.

“Jon? Are you alright? Do you need some space?” Martin asks, taking his hands off of Jon.

Gerry shifts back too, giving Jon room to sit up.

“No, I--” Jon’s mouth feels dry and heavy, like someone has stuffed it with cotton. “I-I need you to lie on your back. I want to do something to you.” 

Martin’s eyebrows raise in something like shock. “I-- what?” His voice goes a little high at the end, blood rushing to his cheeks.

It takes a confused moment, but then Jon feels an embarrassed flush start to burn his ears. “Oh, not-- not like that! Um, not a sexual thing, I just--” Jon chews on his bottom lip and stares up at the ceiling, red all the way down to his chest, “I would like to kiss your thighs? If- if you’ll let me.”

“Okay?” Martin says, a bit nonsensically, his voice still a bit shrill.

“You don’t--” Jon feels Gerry’s hand settle on his back, gently as though soothing a skittish animal. It’s grounding. Jon takes a breath and tries again. “You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with that. I just-- the thought came to me and it’s something I would like to try.”

“Why?” Martin blurts. He looks genuinely confused and it makes Jon’s chest ache terribly. He reaches out to cup Martin’s face in his hands.

“Because you’re beautiful.”

Martin sucks in a wet breath and closes his eyes. “Alright.” He croaks, after a long moment.

“Are you sure?” Jon asks, “Because I don’t-- if you’re not comfortable--”

“No, it’s-- Gerry?”

“I’m right here.” Gerry says. He still has his hand on Jon, but he leans in close so he can tuck his face over Jon’s shoulder. “I’m here and nothing bad will happen.”

Martin nods, turning his face to press a wet kiss into Jon’s palm. “Yeah, okay. You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

Martin laughs and Jon feels the knot in his chest release. 

It takes a moment to rearrange. Martin on his back with Gerry plastered to his side and Jon down between Martin’s legs. It’s a novel view, Jon thinks, and he quite likes it if he’s honest. He lets himself lay there on his stomach for a bit, trailing his hand gently over the coarse dark hair on Martin’s shin and calf. He presses his lips to a knee first, unable to help himself when his fingers drag over a patchy road rash scar from Martin’s youth. He hears Martin’s sharp inhale and moves his focus upward. 

Like the rest of him, Martin’s thighs are big and soft. Covered in that same wiry dark hair that covers his lower legs but sparser and a little softer. Jon lets his fingers map the skin there, brushing over very thin, parallel lines of scar tissue with as gentle of a touch as he knows how. He wants to commit it all to memory, pushing up the material of Martin’s sleeping shorts so he can see more, touch more. 

“Jon, focus.” Gerry says softly.

There’s just so much for Jon to touch, to taste. He closes his eyes and just presses his face into Martin’s leg to stifle a noise. There’s a hand in his hair, not pushing or pulling, just holding. It must be Martin’s because it’s so careful not to pull. 

Jon looks upward. “Sorry, I--”

“It’s alright.” Martin’s still red faced, flushed from his ears down his neck to wear it disappears under his shirt. “It’s-- I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Jon furrows his brow, his lips turning down, “I’m the one that asked you.”

“That doesn’t mean you consent to-to turning me on or--” Martin sputters. 

Jon swallows. “Oh, is that what you’re upset about? That- that I’ll be mad if you--”

“Yes,” Martin exclaims in a rush of breath, “I just-- there are boundaries and I don’t always know where they are and I don’t want to push you past them if you’re not comfortable.” He takes a sharp breath, “And I don’t want you to push past your own discomfort to-to make me happy or--”

“Stop.” Gerry says softly. He curls his hand over Martin’s heart. “Take a breath.”

Martin does, though it sounds painful. 

Jon tries to rock back, but Martin’s hand holds him in place, so he just awkwardly rests against Martin’s thigh, his thumb rubbing circles into the skin in an effort to soothe away the tension gathered there.

“Good Martin,” Gerry says, “let’s talk, okay? It sounds like you’re worried about putting Jon into a sexual situation that he can’t escape from, is that what you’re worried about?”

“Well I-- yeah.”

“Jon, if you become uncomfortable at any time would you let us know?”

“Of course,” Jon says.

“And would you ever swallow your discomfort just to make us happy?”

“No.” Jon says and pushes up into Martin’s hand as if to make a point. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Martin shudders out a breath. In and out. In and out. Until finally he goes pliant under Jon’s hands. Jon presses a kiss to his thigh in thanks, his eyes falling shut. 

“Sorry,” Martin mumbles, “sorry for-- for doubting you, I guess, Jon. I know, well...I know better, I suppose.”

“It’s alright.” Jon says, gently squeezing Martin’s leg. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, I think I’m alright now. The, uh, the knot in my chest is gone.” 

“Good.” Gerry hums and presses a kiss to Martin’s neck. 

“Thank you Gerry.” Martin says and tilts his head down for a kiss.

Jon shifts Martin’s leg over his shoulder, pinning the other thigh down with his hand. He takes his time, covering the skin with his lips and fingers until he’s satisfied. Little purple bruises bloom under his teeth and tongue and Martin hums softly when he presses at them gently with his thumb. 

He switches to the other leg, holding and kissing until his mouth feels sore and the skin is slick with sweat and saliva. Martin’s hand in his hair alternates between scratching at his scalp gently and cradling the back of his skull. When he finally feels satisfied the sun is well past rising and Gerry climbs out of bed with a grumble about making something to eat.

Jon crawls up to take his place against Martin’s side, tangling his fingers into a small hole near the bottom of his sleep shirt and making it worse. Martin presses a kiss to his temple, sweet and slow.

“Thank you.” Martin says, though for what Jon doesn’t know.

“Do you think Gerry will bring us something to eat?” Jon asks.

“Probably not.”

“Mm,” Jon untangles his hand from Martin’s shirt like he means to get up, “we should get up then.”

“In a minute,” Martin says, reaching for him. Jon goes easily, allows himself to be pulled fully across Martin’s chest. “Just-- stay with me for a minute.”

“Okay,” Jon says, pressing a kiss to the first open bit of skin he can reach. “Okay.”

[whispersafterdusk]

Lost in Time - ch 12

Spring was here; it was still cold but now it was a lot wetter.  He missed the snow in a way, since it was essentially a readily available cold pack for sore muscles.

And oh boy, were Arlo's muscles sore.

Eli had started them out easy; a couple weeks of basic work outs with her slowly introducing new techniques and exercises each Monday with the weekend set aside for rest and recuperation.  But by the second month of spring she'd started ramping things up: harder, more grueling exercises, longer sessions, diet requirements.  He could tell he was starting to put on muscle mass already but all the work left him so stiff and sore that he often got back to his room in the evenings, climbed into bed, and didn't move again until morning came.

He couldn't go straight home tonight though; his day had started bright and early with the group exercises, then he'd spent another afternoon down in the facility, and tonight he was supposed to meet Nora at the Round Table for dinner.  It was the first arranged meeting they'd had in...awhile.  No amount of sore muscles would have him missing this. ((Continued below cut))

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

The Barnarock Black was her Thursday evening drink of choice, and being as it was both a Thursday as well as right on heels of a several-hours-long social meet-up with Carol and Antoine, Eli was ready for a drink.

And food.  Being as she hadn't expected the meeting to last as long as it had she'd skipped lunch, and while there were snacks and tea she had to really restrain herself from eating a ton of junk food while trying her best to ignore the rumblings in her stomach.  Thankfully the chatter never really let up so she didn't think anyone had heard her gut screeching for sustenance but once they'd all parted ways she'd all but run down the street toward the Round Table.

On her way through the door she was almost knocked over by Nora leaving; the girl had thrown the door wide open and slammed it (accidentally) into Eli's hand as she'd been reaching for the handle to open it herself.  As Nora shuffled by with a half-apology and all but ran toward the hill leading toward the church Eli stood there both wondering what the heck had prompted her to rush out of there while also trying to awkwardly pinch shut the fresh cut over her middle knuckle before it started to really bleed.

Inside the Round Table she could see Asher at the long side of the counter, Dawa and Dana at the far end of the counter taking up the pair of stools there, Mars and his daughters in a back booth, and Gale and his family were sitting at the round table in the middle of the room.   Sonia was busy buzzing back and forth between tables and the back of the restaurant and Django was nowhere to be seen but based on the number of people in here he was probably up to his ears in food orders.  

"Evening," Asher greeted her as she took a seat next to him.  He tilted his head and got a look at her hand.  "Need something for that?"

"Nah.  It's just a scrape.  Did Django not have her favorite pie or something?"

"Who?"

"Nora, isn't it?  With the church?"

"Oh, yeah - that was Nora. No idea.  Didn't even know she was here until she left - I never seem to notice that side room there."

Eli knew what he was talking about; there was what looked like a newer addition on the front of the restaurant - it had a large bookcase stuffed full of books, a radio on a stand alone cabinet, and a single booth with a pair of loveseats (which wasn't so odd considering that instead of benches or chairs at the other booths there were plush couches that seated 3, maybe 4 if you piled in together).  It was easy to let your attention slide right passed it since you couldn't really see it or see into it unless you crossed the room to the tables on the back wall.

It looked like just Arlo was sitting-

Ah.  Ok then.

Eli inhaled through her teeth - an awkward hiss, of sorts - and sat down at the counter.  It took awhile for Sonia to make it over and take her order; the cut on her knuckle kept oozing and she'd resorted to periodically swiping the blood off with a thumb and then sticking said thumb into her mouth.

"You SURE you don't want something to wrap that in?"

"All the napkins here are cloth.  I'd rather not stain them with a bodily fluid."

Asher rolled his eyes and pulled a rumpled, dark green handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it.  "And before you ask, no, I haven't blown my nose into it.  It's clean but stained so don't worry about adding to it."

As he said the handkerchief WAS stained - looked like oil, and blood too - but she wrapped it around and tied it off.  "Well, at least I won't drip anywhere.  Thanks.  I hate how much hands bleed before clotting up."

"I agree - knees and shins too.  And no problem.  I've actually never, ever needed to blow my nose in one of those - my dad made me carry one around for that purpose and I always end up using it for something else.  It's a pretty gross concept, really...stuffing a crud-filled cloth back into my pocket.  And I'm supposed to use it several times over a day?"  Asher wrinkled his nose at that.  "And I say that after having gutted fish and food animals...guts and blood?   Totally fine.  Snot?  No thank you."

Eli chuckled; he had a point, after all.  He also still had a noticeable bruise across his cheek from a cross-country jog last week where he'd taken a tree limb right to the face when an end piece had snapped off and slapped the rest of it directly back into him as he'd gone to push passed it. "We usually had bandages and tissue glue on hand for little things like this.  I've even stuck industrial tape over cuts to hold it over until I got back to treat it properly.  Drove Peter absolutely insane doing that.  Was good times..."

"Peter?" Asher repeated.

She leaned forward and braced her elbows on the counter, putting her chin in her hands.  "Yeah - he was one of our team medics.  Him and Ashley, kept us pieced together and put all the blood and chunks back where they belonged."

Asher nodded slowly at that.  "Not a bad idea - having a dedicated medical person.  It's not something we typically do unless it's a big expedition.  But, we all have some basic first aid training so it's not like we're heading out without anything at all."

"Do you have assigned squads in your Flying Pigs?  I'm not even sure what an adventuring guild is."

"Not really," he answered.  "We're a sort of grab bag group - we pick and choose who goes where, unless someone was specifically requested for a contract job.  As for what we do we inspect old ruins for dangers and clear them out, protect those who need protecting, and we help map out areas that no one's been to in centuries.  We've been a bit focused on that lately - eventually we'll make better strides out into the Peripheries and the Great Begeondan and get some settlements in place there too but, no lie, those are some of the most dangerous places on the continent.  Full of monsters and rogue AIs, weird weather, extreme temperatures too."

"Sounds like my kind of place."

The look he gave her was somewhere between surprise and suspicion.  "You're...joking, right?"

"Not in the slightest.  Believe it or not there were a lot of wild, wide open places still left in the world back in my time period.  A lot of our training happened out in harsh areas, and sometimes we'd get called in to go track down some idiot tourist or terrorist that had disappeared out there.  Rangers had to be ready for just about anything, in any climate or location, for any reason."

Now he looked less like he thought she was joking and more just genuinely surprised.  "So - I mean.  It just seems weird to me that what survived through the ages were stories of humans living lazy, luxurious lives, with robots doing everything.  And then you say there were wild spaces and hard training and having to be ready at the drop of a hat.   Why was there any need for soldiers, or rangers?  At least, human ones anyway."

Eli shrugged.  "Each time I hear 'robots did everything' it surprises ME because it seems like no one actually gives thought to what that means beyond its surface.  Would YOU want your life in the hands of something that's one hack or power failure away from shutting off entirely, losing all your files, or turning on you?  Most people tended to act honorably and not target the innocent and whatnot but still, there were those who wanted their voices heard or wanted power and control no matter how many people they incidentally or purposely killed.  In hindsight the fact that the leaders of the world worked so hard to keep the nasty, dark, and terrible things out of the public eye seems to have...really slapped the rose colored glasses on, to the detriment of accurate historical record. Granted, "accurate records" were a bit of joke anyway - at least to those who knew what was being to told to military and what was sent out to civilians. Oh, a hospital got hacked? A train engine exploded for no reason? Power shut off mysteriously?  Nah, nothing serious - just "equipment failures" causing weird quirks and shutdowns," Eli said, raising her hands to stick air quotes around 'equipment failures' and all but oozing sarcasm.  "The world was...certainly something, compared to what it is now.  But there's no such thing as a utopia.  People are always going to be unhappy about something, or slip through the cracks of society and feel they have a justifiable reason to make their displeasure known in violent ways.   There's a reason all the nations still had standing armies even though we'd had peace for centuries, before I was even a concept in Fate's outline.  They kept us all busy with public works projects, organized war games - think big but friendly skirmishes with harmless paint-based or laser weapons with sensor suits - and, like I mentioned before, the occasional idiot tourist rescue, but it wasn't all sunshine and daisies unless you were a regular citizen."

Asher let out a soft noise - Eli thought it was 'geez' or something similar - and rubbed at his chin, going silent for a bit.  Sonia brought out Eli's usual beer then disappeared just as quickly as she'd popped up; Eli had half the bottle downed before Asher spoke again.

"Bet you never thought you'd be correcting history books, huh?"

She sat the bottle down and did a half-assed imitation of jazz hands.  "Ta da, I am full of surprises."  That rapid shaking movement dislodged the handkerchief around her knuckles a bit so she untied and then re-tied it back into place, using her teeth this time to help tighten the knot a bit better.

Over the chatter and sounds of cutlery on plates Eli made out the sounds of plodding feet, and shifted on her stool just enough to see Arlo slouching his way toward the door; right as he reached it it opened and Remington was framed in the doorway briefly before he stepped aside.

"Oh, hey - how'd it--" Remington was cut off as Arlo slipped passed him and kept going without a word; the man stared after him a moment.   "--go..." he finished his sentence with a frown, and a shake of his head.  He came inside and up to the counter to take the empty stool on Eli's left.  "Evening, guys."

"Evening.  How's the knee?" Eli asked.

Remington slid his legs around and flexed his leg a bit.  "Not as bad as I thought it'd be, by now.  It hurts but no more than it does when the weather is bad."

"Good to hear.  I wish flex-gel still existed...that stuff worked wonders."

"Well, we make do," Remington chuckled.  "What's tomorrow looking like?"

"Starting with a warm up run, then I have a couple new things to show.  They're...hard, so I won't keep you all too long at it, and you'll have the weekend to recover like normal."

"Something to look forward to, then," Remington replied.  

Sonia came back with Asher and Eli's orders, took Remington's, and disappeared again.

As she picked up her fork Eli offered the two men a small grin.  "I probably should have warned you both to eat light tonight.  It's going to be a rough morning."

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

"Before today...no idea...what a burpee was," Asher wheezed from where he was laying flat on his back on the grass.  "Can't say I care for them....or the reverse ones..."

"A sentiment I can get behind," Sam groaned.  She wasn't laying down but she was sitting a couple feet from Asher with her arms around her legs along with her head nearly between her knees.  

Remington was off to the side finishing up some additional push ups with a sack of sand on his back for weight; Eli had let him do a few burpees to see how his knee held up and had eventually decided not to risk blowing the joint out.  While Sam and Asher did regular and reverse burpees with one-pound sacks of sand in each hand Remington had to do lunges, sit ups, and push ups with a five pound sack.  

For whatever reason though Arlo wasn't present.  

Earlier, before they'd started on their run, Eli had caught Remington and Sam sharing a knowing look, and when asked neither of them owned up to knowing why Arlo had skipped today.  She'd decided not to press the issue and had gone about the morning as she'd planned; being as the burpees had wiped everyone out she was content to not do their cool down jog and was just settling on the top of the fence when she spied Arlo's figure coming toward them from Portia's gates. He was...slouching a bit, and looked a little tired.  

"Morning," she called when he was within not-quite-shouting distance.

"Morning.  Sorry, didn't mean to miss today."

"No problem.  I can do a repeat if you're still up for it."

From his spot still flat on the ground Asher raised a hand.  "Run - run while you still can."

Eli snorted.  "Well, yeah - running is part of the routine."

"Not what I meant," Asher chuckled.  He rolled over and groaned as he got to his feet.  "I've got to get back out to the facility...maybe lay down somewhere that isn't wet and muddy for a bit before I get dragged into the depths to watch some old folks fart around in piles of dust."

With a smile Eli slid off the fence.  "Remind them to leave things where they found it and to not try turning anything on.  Going to be hard enough as it is to unlock personal stations without them tripping the lock out mechanisms."

"They've been fairly good at keeping their hands to themselves now that they have Stewart to entertain them but I'll remind them.  See you guys later."

With that Asher headed out of the fence gate and headed toward town; he was walking in a slow, wincing manner, and Eli made a mental note to go a bit easy on them on the next couple of work days.  A few moments later and Arlo was standing at the fence - on the outer side - and after a pause he sighed.

"I have something I need to speak to you privately about, if you have time."

"Sure."  She hopped off the fence and looked to Sam and Remington.   "If you want to do your cool downs that's up to you but otherwise I'll see you guys Monday morning, or whenever I next run into you."

She left through the gate and walked alongside Arlo down the road heading toward the shoreline; by her estimate they were halfway to the harbor before he started speaking.

"I wanted your opinion on something because it technically involves you.  But first I need to ask - have you noticed anyone treating you differently, or rudely, lately?"

Eli shook her head.  "Not that I've noticed.  There's still some people that I think I make nervous but they're also not anyone I speak to or see often."  She paused and then let out a small huff of laughter.  "I think I'm doing a pretty good job proving I'm harmless to people I see on a day to day basis."

Arlo nodded at that and his pace slowed just a bit.  "Have you interacted with Nora or Lee much?"

"Ha, no.  Nora runs away from me and I think Lee would walk straight through the side of a building to avoid walking on the same street as me.  I do notice he gets a bit louder in his sermons in the plaza if he sees me nearby but he doesn't directly single me out."

"So, you don't think Lee has had too much influence on how others are treating you?"

Eli slowed to a stop; Arlo took a few more steps before stopping but he didn't turn around.  "Not that I can tell.  But I'm guessing he's got some sort of influence over YOU and I'm at the center of it, right?"

He sighed heavily, sounding annoyed.  "Yes, unfortunately."  For several moments he stood there silently, then finally turned around to look back at her.  "Nora and I were sort of dating.  I'm not really sure if we were officially a couple or not.  There's...something there, but I don't know what.  The thing is, she broke things off with me last night because of my association with you."

Eli raised an eyebrow at that.  "Don't tell me she thinks you were cheating?"

"No, nothing like that," he answered quickly.  "She's not happy that I'm openly associating with something the Church is so against."

"...the past," Eli sighed; Arlo nodded in response.  "You know that's a bit ridiculous, right?"

"The Church has its views, and I have my own regarding technology from the old world.  I agree that there's a lot of dangerous things left behind from your time period.  But I also agree that not all of it could possibly be bad.  If it was ALL bad I feel like there wouldn't BE a past for us to be studying.  I know Nora strongly believes we shouldn't be using things from the past but I also know she's changed her mind on a few things once she'd directly experienced it or learned about it.   Knowing that, I feel like Lee is responsible for her...stance, I guess, regarding associating with you."

"So confront him about it."

"That's...something I'm considering," he replied after a pause.  "But what I wanted to talk to you about was your own personal experience with Portia's townsfolk.  Gale was pretty direct about wanting to hear about any sort of trouble that Lee is causing, in the context of it causing YOU trouble.  But this doesn't directly affect you in any way, it just affects me.  If it's not your life he's interfering with then I don't know if I should tell Gale and risk rocking the boat."

"I think you should," Eli said, crossing her arms and glancing over a shoulder toward the distant and yet somehow looming pinnacle that the Church sat on.  "If she wanted to break things off it should be HER decision, not because some crusty evangelizer told her to. No preacher or employer or authority figure should be free to meddle to that degree in someone's personal life.  Not to mention that he's just asking for Balance to beckon and Judgement to come reckon..."

Arlo looked briefly confused by that last bit; Eli just shrugged - she could always explain the phrase to him later if he was interested.   "-look, even if it's not affecting me directly it's clear I'm being used as a sort of weapon here.  I could care less if someone is cursing my name up, down, and sideways, but I really don't like the idea that I'm essentially being used as a political bludgeon.  In fact, I think I'LL go talk to Nora and get the real story out of her."

"I'd rather she not know-"

"Do you really think she'd just expect you not to tell anyone?" Eli interrupted.  "Or that no one would notice you two split and not have questions?"

"I... I guess not."  He sighed heavily again and tilted his head back to stare up into the sky.  "I just don't want to cause a rift between anyone."

"Let me see what I can find out and THEN we can decide if we want to rock this particular boat or not.  Might be that IF Lee was behind this, and IF he thinks he got away with it, he might try it again with other people and then THAT might actually affect me directly.  If anything it's worth it to try and stop that before the metaphorical rocking ends up capsizing instead."

Arlo nodded. "All right, I guess.  I'm going to head back to the Corps building.  Let me know what you found out."

"Will do."

They walked back to town in silence and at the base of the hill near the plaza Arlo kept going while Eli took a sharp left to head to the path that spiraled up to where the church sat on top of a ruins (and if it was the location she thought it was it had once been several floors of administrative offices, a number of clothing boutiques, and a ground floor restaurant).  By the time she got to the top and was looking at the church's doors that familiar feeling of nostalgia had hit her...nostalgia felt like a strange emotion to be having but she supposed it was a step up from the usual soul-crushing gut punch she usually got when she let herself think about something she recognized.

"Knock knock, anyone home," she found herself muttering as she shouldered the door open and stepped into the quiet chapel.  

It was nice in here, at least - nothing opulent or over the top.   Pews, carpet down the aisle, banners and a chandelier, stained glass windows and murals on the walls.  There was a fountain near the back wall behind the pulpit (which was just a small podium with a book sitting open on it), and she thought she could see a piano back there too.

The only thing breaking up the silence was the gurgle of water and the rhythmic sounds of sweeping coming from somewhere to her left; Eli walked up the small ramp into the sanctuary proper and from that spot she spied Nora off in the corner with a broom in hand.

The girl looked up to her and Eli saw her tense up.

"Morning. If you've got a moment I'd like to speak with you," Eli said.  Not much of a greeting but the girl already didn't like her so no amount of politeness was probably going to change much.

"I uh...I need to finish sweeping."  The girl was gripping her broom like she thought Eli was going to attack her; Eli wondered what exactly Lee had been telling her.

"That's fine.  I can wait."

It was clear Nora had been hoping Eli would just leave but instead she watched silently as Eli moved a bit further into the room and sat down on the back pew there.  Eli kept looking forward, admiring what she could see of the murals on the nearby wall; eventually she heard the sweeping start up again and could track Nora by sound as the woman finished up in that corner and moved down to the entryway, then back up and across into the corner on the right.  She heard the scrape of a metal dust pan and the clatter of what she guessed was the top of a trash can opening and closing, and then silence.  Eli let the silence stretch on for a bit before turning around; Nora seemed like she was debating whether she should run out the door or not but froze when she noticed Eli looking at her.

"Good to go?"

"Go...where?"

"I figured we could just step outside so if your minister shows up he can't yell at me for being on church property."

Nora inhaled and exhaled slowly then nodded, and mutely headed out the door; Eli followed along as the girl headed off to the right, to a wooden platform that was similar to the other wooden platforms that made up sections of the path that led up here -- it lined up with the path, in fact, and made it look like whoever had built it had intended to keep going up and around into the sky.  She had a slight twinge of discomfort from the fact the platform gave a clear view of the land around Portia which included quite a few destroyed buildings.

 Don't think about it.

"All right," she said then, blowing out a breath.  "I'll get right to it: Arlo told me.  And I want to know if that was YOUR decision or if Lee put you up to it.  Because he's not sure and I'm not happy to be in the middle of this."

Nora winced slightly and rubbed at an arm, and at first didn't respond.  Eli stuck her hand in her pockets and purposely looked to the left and down into the tree farm while trying to ignore the ruined observatory that she could still see out of the corner of her eye.

"We talked about it...and I agreed, so it was my decision," Nora finally said.  "The relics of the past are dangerous, we shouldn't be embracing anything from that time period."

Eli turned her attention back to the girl.  "Including me?"

"It's..."

"Look, I get it - you church folk aren't going to like that I exist. I'm a living reminder of how humanity almost wiped themselves out.  I'm not asking you to like me.  I am asking you if YOU made the decision to break things off with Arlo, on your own, for your own reasons, or if Lee convinced you to do it because in his mind it was the right thing to do because of Arlo's associating with me."

Nora's shoulders slumped a bit and again she was silent for a long period.  "...I guess it's a bit of both.  Lee's said that-"

"-let me stop you right there.  Lee hasn't bothered talking to me, period.  Whatever he's said I intend to do or teach is something he pulled directly out of his own ass."  At that Nora's eyes widened a bit but Eli didn't know if it was due to the language or because of some possibility that she'd exposed Lee for lying.  "Here's the thing.  I know a lot about a lot of dangerous things everyone seems afraid of - AIs, weapons, computers, devices.  Just because I know how something works, or worked, doesn't mean I can replicate it here.  For every one thing I could maybe manage to write up a technical readout for there's fifty others that I can't.  I know how to put a plasma pulse rifle together but I couldn't begin to tell you how to make one starting from a raw material base; I could describe step by step how to troubleshoot an anti-grav propulsion unit but hand me every single separate part, down to the nuts and bolts, and I'd have no clue how to assemble it.  There's a lot of things that, if it already exists, I could probably get it working again but there's no way I could build it from the ground up because even if I knew everything about everything, the fact remains that your technological level just isn't where it needs to be to MAKE anything."

Nora simply stood and listened silently, and was staring at some indeterminate point on the horizon past the tree farm.

"...so," Eli said into the silence that followed.  "Was it Lee, or was it your choice?"

Nora hung her head.  "You already know the answer to that."

"I was hoping I was wrong.  So, barring Lee's meddling, WOULD you have made that choice?"

To her surprise Nora lifted her head and answered immediately.  "Yes.  I think so, anyway.  Just...not like I did, or when I did."

Eli nodded approvingly at the admission.  "All right, we're getting somewhere then.  What's the ACTUAL reasoning then?"

"I just... I don't know.  I'm attracted to him - he's brave, and handsome, and kind. But I feel so...  I love his stories, and love spending time with him, but there's so many times where once he runs out of stories it gets...it's like we run out of things to talk about.  We don't have much in common it seems.  I try to find things to talk about but its usually the same things each time - the weather, the news.  I've even tried telling him about books I like but I feel silly trying to explain an entire book's plot. And..."

Eli raised an eyebrow.  "And?" she prompted - she wasn't going to let her clam up now that the proverbial dam had apparently burst.

"-I was only supposed to stay in Portia for two years.  I asked to stay longer and was granted an extension to my mission with the Church, and while I love Portia I can't stay here forever.  I have schooling to finish in Atara and then I'd like to settle down and start a family, and Arlo wants to join the Flying Pigs and would be traveling all over.  I don't think either of us can stay with the other unless someone wants to give up a dream."

"Aha..." Eli muttered.  "That I can understand.  Mine and my husband's jobs kept us apart quite a bit but neither of us would have ever asked the other one to give up their career."

"How...did it work out, then?"

Eli gave her a small smile.  "We enjoyed every moment we got together, when we had the time. Truth be told, my marriage was arranged - I just got super lucky in that I actually fell in love with the person my parents picked."  At Nora's shocked look she held up a hand.  "I know, it sounds weird - arranged marriages weren't at all popular back then, and were even against the law in a lot of places.  But all the men I was around were all soldiers or rangers, and I didn't want to marry another serviceman.  My parents picked someone I knew in gradeschool so he wasn't a total stranger, and we ended up fitting together nicely."

"Phyllis ran away from an arranged marriage...I didn't think one could be successful."

"Don't get me wrong - I thought long and hard before I asked my parents to do that for me, AND asked them to make it clear to whoever needed to hear it that I wouldn't be putting my boots away if I got married.  It's not something I would ever suggest to another person.   But, to get back on track, I'm only mentioning my marriage and circumstance because it's entirely possible you and Arlo could make it work even if you're apart for long periods of time.  It just boils down to, do you think that's what you'd want?"

Again Nora fell quiet, and Eli stayed where she was while the other walked over to the edge of the platform and leaned against it with  her arms folded across the top plank of the fence. Standing there, in the quiet, Eli could hear footsteps coming up the path and assumed they were about to be interrupted - probably by Lee.  She gave Nora a couple more minutes before clearing her throat to grab her attention.

"Give it some thought, and be honest with yourself.  And when you have your answer, walk your happy little butt down to the Corps building and be honest with Arlo.  You're still welcome to dislike me," Eli added after a moment, smiling slightly.  "I hear someone coming though so I should probably make myself scarce."

"All right...I'll do that," Nora replied, voice quiet.

Eli nodded to her and then turned to plod back down the path.  As she expected she passed Lee coming up; he gave her a brief sour look then turned his nose up to her and sped up to get by her faster.  She managed to keep from rolling her eyes until she had her back to him and once she'd circled around enough to put him entirely out of sight she sped up into a trot -- may as well get her cool down jog done.  She would check in with Arlo later this afternoon instead (it made more sense to give Nora time to go talk to him on her own, before Eli went to tell him what she'd said -- it'd also mean a lot more for him to hear it from Nora).

As she passed under Portia's gate she paused at the split in the road; ordinarily she'd jog down to the harbor and back with the others for their cool down run.  If she hung a right here she'd go up to the tree farm and she could easily keep going and check in at the facility - today was supposed to be one of her free days to do...whatever she felt like, but she didn't have much in mind to do.  Maybe she could get back to rummaging through the spare parts and start the onerous duty of stripping down and re-working the auxiliary power bank to see if they could convert it over to wind power.

Yeah, that would probably be a better use of her time today.

She paused to stretch and then continued on, jogging up the road; there was someone coming down the road toward her - someone she didn't recognize.  She offered the man a smile and moved off the road into the grass, and the man returned the smile and offered a little wave as she went by.

As she got to the tree farm's gate it swung open and out came Dawa, and when he saw her he waved at her and gestured for her to pause.

"Hey, Eli!"

"Hello Dawa.  You need something?"

"Was Selene home when you left?"

"Uh...  I actually have no idea.  I usually get up and out of the house before she does and I spent the morning out exercising with the Corps folks."

Dawa nodded and grunted.  "Ah, all right.  Was hoping to possibly save myself a trip down there.  But no big deal - it's not like I'm walking across the continent," he chuckled.

"I'm just out for a jog, I could turn around and see if she's there and then send her your way."

Dawa considered that a moment, then nodded.  "If you don't mind.   I've got a lot of work I need to get done by tonight and any minute I can save is worth it."

Eli raised an eyebrow.  "Yeah?  Need a hand with anything?"

"Nah, it's just a lot of chopping and getting things delivered on time.  I can manage it...I think."

"Fair enough.  I'll go have a look and come back up this way if she's not there."

"Thanks Eli!" he called after her as she turned around and jogged back down the path.

She caught up to that same man from before on the way back; he'd stopped not too far from where she'd first passed him, and was sitting on a bit of broken stone off the side of the road watching her approach.  With how he had his feet propped up she could see his brown leather boots were worn and had a few holes in them, and they matched his equally worn duster coat; the man himself also looked weathered and old.

"Hello again," she said as she came up.

"Hey," was the man's response.

When she got back to the house she did in fact find Selene working in her factory and let her know Dawa was looking for her.  She got a sort of distracted, non-committal promise to go talk to him and then Eli left the builder to whatever it was she was piecing together and once again jogged up the path toward the tree farm.

The man was still sitting there; he'd taken his coat off and had it draped over the rock beside him.  His clothes were baggy but were in considerably better condition than his coat and boots were.

"You stuck in a rut?" was the man's gravelly greeting as she jogged near him for a third time.

She laughed quietly.  "Just playing messenger for a bit."

She heard him chuckling behind her as she kept going; it didn't take long to let Dawa know Selene would be along in a bit and then she continued on out to the facility.  Down there it was easy to lose track of time and before she knew it it was early evening - far later than she'd actually intended to be down here...she REALLY needed to recreate a damn Hi-Def or, bare minimum, get a pocket watch or something.

At the very least the tourist man wasn't still sitting on his rock when she went by there again; she did spot him sitting at the nearest booth in the Round Table though, and offered him a nod when she thought he was looking her way.  He didn't respond but that wasn't a big deal - at least no one could claim she wasn't friendly to strangers.  

"Eli!"

She paused, halfway to a stool at the counter, and turned when she heard Arlo.  He looked to be in better spirits and was waving her over to the table where he, Remington, Asher, and Petra were sitting together.

As she headed over Arlo slid to the side to make room for her on the end of the couch next to him and Petra shifted around to the other side; in the few seconds it took to cross the room and sit down Sonia had come over to the table for her order.  Remington, Petra, and Asher all had half-finished drinks in front of them.

"Did you find that sensor thing you were looking for?" Asher asked as she sat down.

"Nope," she answered.  "Granted, I didn't spend too much time looking for it though.  Started in on tearing down the aux unit and making a list of what needs replacing.  We're going to need an amp converter for sure but I'm fairly confident we can manage to make it work."

"That's good news," Petra said.  "We already have the wind generator blueprints and have several up near South Block that are working just fine.  If you can give us an idea of the power output that's needed we can see if we need to alter those blueprints."

"I'm still working on that.  The main hitch is deciding what numbers to use and how to get them - we won't be using the same amount of power that the facility did in its hey day but I also don't know of any other number to use just yet.  I might have to ask Stewart to set aside a week and just run everything from lights to toasters down there to see what consumption level it can even hit, then add some zeroes to account for potential future increases and then see what I get."

Petra nodded.  "That makes sense. I just hope the wind coming down from the bluffs would be enough."

"Well, if its not sufficient then my backup plan was water turbines instead.  There's that waterfall that's not too far away...biggest hurdle then would be waterproofing all the equipment."

At that Petra rubbed at her chin.  "Water turbines and waterproofing... It might work so long as we can avoid altering Portia's water quality."

"Shouldn't be any different from the motorized boats I see out in the harbor with the exception that there won't be any fuel runoff in the equation," Eli replied.  "That ought to make it pretty clean."

Further discussion was interrupted as Sonia and Django brought out all of their orders together and they got to eating; when they finished Petra and Asher excused themselves, paid, and headed out.  As Remington ordered a second lemonade Eli subtly leaned toward Arlo.

"Did she come find you?" It was barely above a whisper, and neither Sonia nor Remington seemed to have heard it.

Arlo nodded.  "She did.  We worked it out.  Still friends."  His voice was equally as quiet.

Eli straightened and flashed him a brief smile - she didn't need details; she was just glad Nora had followed through and Eli wouldn't have to have that conversation in her stead.

"So..." Arlo said then, voice loud and clear.  "I hear I missed learning what a burpee is."

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

The three of them ended up sitting and chatting for quite awhile, then moved on to the back room for a couple games of darts (Remington won every single game).  As they'd stood and headed back Eli again nodded to the old man in the booth and this time got a half wave and smile in response. When they came out of the game room later the man was still there nursing a single coffee.  He offered them a quiet good evening and was digging in his coat pocket for gols as they were filing out through the door.

"Any plans for tomorrow?" Arlo asked, as they stood together just beyond the edge of the extended patio roof outside of the Round Table.

"Sleeping, hopefully," Remington chuckled.

Eli shrugged. "Not really.  I was thinking of seeing if Selene had a rod and reel I can borrow.  I'm determined to see a live frog fish for myself - it's still so hard to wrap my head around the idea of bizarre animal hybrids."

"You should talk to Qiwa - I'm sure he'd be happy to tell you all about the native fish in this region," Remington said.  "He's the one who usually wears purple, if that helps."

She considered that a moment, then nodded; on her To Do list was checking with the local school to see if they had books they could lend her on wildlife, geography, and cultures of the current time period but she kept forgetting about it until it was too late in the evening to catch anyone there.  "Probably a good idea.  I need to start making time to learn about the world as it is, instead of focusing on telling everyone on how it was."  She paused for a breath then looked to Arlo.   "If you'd like to make up for today I'll have time tomorrow."

"Sounds good.  In the morning, as usual?"

"Works for me.  See you tomorrow," she said, smiling and heading off.

The lights were still on in Selene's factory - had she ever gone to talk to Dawa?  Eli hoped so.  Inside the house it was quiet; Eli took a quick bath and tiptoed into her room wrapped in just a towel.  Her pajamas were not on the edge of her bed though, which where she swore she'd left them this morning.  Maybe she'd overshot the edge when she'd tossed them there?  As she came around to the other side of the bed to check she saw a strange pink lump partially sticking out from under the bedskirt, and under it was a single pajama pantleg.

She reached out with one bare foot, grabbed the pantleg fabric with her toes, and pulled; sliding out from under the bed came the biggest, roundest, pinkest cat she'd ever seen.  It was lounging on top of her pajamas and seemed not at all disturbed by the fact it had been dragged out of its little hiding spot.

"...excuse me, who are you and also I need those."  Eli had to let the towel flap open as she bent down to roll the rather sausage-shaped cat off her clothing; when she had retrieved the pajamas she dropped the towel over the animal and heard a rather confused "mrrp" noise from under it.

Selene hadn't mentioned that she owned a cat, much less a neon pink one.

The world was a very weird place nowadays.

[zombiejoepino]

The Scavenger. CH: 5 (Cobb Vanth x OC fanfic)

CHAPTER 5: THE INVADERS

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Word count: 5914

Genre: Space Western

Summary: The Marshal and Nath get to know each other just a little bit. The trawler fetches his employer, Plog, and makes a new deal. Something unexpected visits Mos Pelgo.

Nights were cold in the dunes, so no one stays up so late.

Banthas were mooing and walking around their pen. The smaller ones just hid under the bigger ones looking for warmth.

The Marshal hopped off the speeder and tried to stay tall, acting like nothing but just a few steps further, he felt the sting right on his belly. He grunted in pain and made his way into the house.

Nath noticed his body language, the bloodstains on his clothes and, she rushed to follow him inside but, she stopped right at the entrance. An idea jumped in her head.

No one was watching and, there it was, a functional speeder. She could take it and leave the town forever. Cobb was injured and he wouldn't be able to follow her.

It was so easy that it didn't feel real. Just leaving and no one stopping her, but for some reason, she couldn't move her feet at all.

Nath thought about leaving everything behind and escape with the risk that Qod might find her on the way, or, he was already waiting for her at the spaceport.

She knew Qod. Even if she managed to escape, he would go after her just to make a point; no one steals from him, no one leaves him. Those memories about him still hunt her. His hand around her throat, the water. A living hell.

Then a new idea jumped into her mind.

Since Cobb was a good shooter and had that Mandalorian armor, maybe he was her best shot to face Qod. He could help her, after all, he was a good man. But first, she needed to tell him the truth. That was the tricky part.

Nath walked in and found the Marshal strapping off the armor, leaving the metal plates on the ground. He poured himself a drink and chugged it down. He filled the glass again and looked back at Nath.

"I guess we had a rough day." He said and poured two glasses. The redhead noticed; the bruises across his face, the clean-cut on his arm, and the large stain on his belly. Nath moved closer to him and examined the wounds. Cobb stood still and blinked many times. She lifted the ripped cloth and he grunted a little.

"I thought beskar was the strongest steel." She said.

"Sure it is but it didn't cover all the places." He chuckled, looking down at her.

"It's not that bad but I can't patch you up in here." Her eyes met his. He had a puzzled expression across his face.

Cobb sat down in the bed and kicked off his boots. Nath stood in front of him and carefully pulled off his shirt. Her eyes focused on the wounds across his body. The Marshal felt her eyes studying him and smirked.

"Anything on your mind?" He teased.

Nath flushed. "What happened to you?" She kept her gaze away from his.

"Some trawler was following me and tried to take the armor from me." He said while looking back at her. The girl was too close, cleaning up his wounds, removing all dirt from the wounded skin. He noticed the freckles under her eyes, the bruised lip that mixed pretty well with her delicate features. He brushed off the idea. It was the alcohol pushing him to those thoughts.

Nath licked her lips trying not to look back at his eyes or even his face. She had a good memory and didn't want to learn those tiny details like the way he squints his eyes when he smiles. The last time she got lost in someone's eyes, she ended up in a bad partnership.

"Don't even think about it." she thought and shook the ideas.

She took the bacta spay and applied it on his wounds. Cobb shuddered to feel the cool mist but the sting on his arm fade away.

Her hands moved towards his lower belly. He flinched when she wiped the large gash and placed his palm above hers to stop.

"I can do that." He cleared his throat.

"It's not that bad, just, stay still." She ignored his actions and proceeded to clean the deep wound.

Cobb was pretty tired, his body felt heavy, and thought about falling asleep in there but, his curiosity kept poking his mind. He needed the full story about that snake, what she knew of the trawlers, and whatever she knew. Again, his pushy mind just jumping to conclusions before asking her how she was feeling. He didn't know where to start.

Nath sprayed the rest of his wounds, the ones on his back, and noticed the scar that resembles a primitive star. She saw similar ones before but never dared to ask for details.

The stories were known by the locals and survivors of empire slaves' camps. Some of them refused to speak about them or give away details. She couldn't imagine that the Marshal was once a slave. After all, he could understand how she felt. So, without hesitation, she poked it gently.

Cobb was caught off guard when he felt the smooth fingertips going through the edges, studying the old scar. He never gave away details about his past, especially that part. He didn't like to think about the past. His mind was always busy with problems around town rather than think about his nightmares.

He cleared his throat and, she finally snapped from it. Her hands moved away from it and, blushed.

"Sorry." She spoke and picked up the dirty bandages from the bed.

"It's a long story for another day" He looked at her over his shoulder and, he finally laid down on his back. Nath kept her eyes down and rushed her way out of the room.

She went to the next room just to clear her mind. What was happening with her? Why she felt so curious about him now? It was so hard for her to accept that, unlike all the men in her life, the Marshal was nice.

Nath shook her mind. No funny thoughts, she spoke to herself again. If the Marshal was gonna help her, she needed to tell him all, but not this night.

Cobb remained silent looking up the pale rocky ceiling. Whatever she knew, he could wait for tomorrow. Her absence felt like ages making the Marshal sat up in bed and called her out.

"Everything alright?"

Nath's mind stopped drifting. She rushed to fill a glass and joined him back in the room.

"Thanks, kid." He smiled and took the water. "Give me 5 and I'll leave your bed."

"You can stay there. I will take the rug."

"No, I'm ok."He was about to jump from the bed.

Nath gave him a look, sat at the edge while facing him. Cobb didn't protest and rested his hand on the mattress, thinking about moving closer. Nath licked her lips and leaned in, looking right at his lips, but she quickly poked his rib. He groaned in pain and frowned lightly, rubbing his side.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"You are not ok yet. You need to rest, Marshal. I know you call the shots here but right now, you will do as I say."

Cobb gave her a look. What was about her that they kept having these awkward interactions? He was always confident about his actions but, with her, it felt like they were dancing around. They could argue, not trust each other, then just have a normal talk, and now this. Those long silences.

"Try to sleep." She broke the silence.

"Are you sure?"

"Look, you beat someone's ass today. You earned it, Marshal."

"You killed a desert snake." He pointed out.

"True but it didn't kick my ass."

...

Next morning.

The biker went full speed across the dune sea. The twins were shinning already, covering the whole area with their burning light. Dust covered his vision for a moment until he spotted the large city of Bestine.

Folks were already around the exotic market, trading their best items for food, taking their beasts out for the new farm, or showing off brand new speeders and ships. All ships were allowed and ready to go to the spaceport to check. Anything pre-imperial needed examination. New Republic's guidelines, but if you slid enough credits to the right person, they would look away.

The trawler kept his way avoiding all kinds of vendors or traders, he even growled back to the smaller creatures. His eyes scanned the area looking for the nearest joint and, walked in.

The peculiar smoky atmosphere was gone by the morning. The half-empty place lost its charm once it was the morning and, anyone could look at the dirty floor. The bartender was busy mopping the floor that he almost forgot about the only client that was around; Plog.

His pale face rested over the table surface, his eyes were closed, his arms hanging on his sides and, his mouth was wide open as he snorted.

The trawler didn't like the pale slick but, he promised all those credits for him and his partner. Now it was double for him.

The hunter tapped the surface lightly, making the pale one open his eyes. He quickly scanned the area and sat back. He fixed his tunic and gave the trawler a look.

"Where's the other guy?" He spoke in huttese, so no one would understand.

"Dead. That man was not Mandalorian, yet, he killed him." He spoke back. "But I found the town."

"Did you see the girl?" Plog rose a brow.

The trawler sat right in front of him, took an empty glass, and poured down whatever was left in the bottle. He took a small sip and shrugged.

"Kinda. It was dark already but I saw her talking to this fake Mandalorian."

"How can you be sure it's her?" Plog frowned at him.

"You asked me to follow the armor. He lives in a small community. There are only farmers and fake Mando. It won't be hard to take over it"

"I don't care about the town. I wanna make sure she is there."

"I believe she is." The heavy chugged the drink and made a face.

Plog gave him a long silent stare trying to make up his mind about the trawler. He could send him alone like the others, wait for him to bring the girl and the canister. It was a long shot, he thought.

He also remembered last night's hologram from Qod. He wouldn't tolerate another mistake and was running out of patience. The captain hated losing his time on simple tasks, he couldn't understand why it was taking them so long to bring just a girl.

"If I have to go, it's only to shoot those idiots and then you. Better make sure to bring her as soon as possible." The captain spoke in the blueish hologram and then faded away. That man, he didn't want to fail him or owe him.

Back in the Empire times, he had quite a reputation for hunting down rebels and traitors, even got himself the nickname "The Shadow." The last thing that Plog wanted to do was to piss off The Shadow.

He shook his thoughts away and returned his attention to the hunter.

"Fine, let's go to town." The pale one stood up but, the heavy didn't move at all.

"I can take you there but, let's reconsider the details of our arrangement."

"What do you mean?" He rolled his eyes.

"I want the double credits and I will keep the beskar."

"You mean your dead brother's half? I paid for both, not just one."

"I'm faster than him. And I want that half now."

"And you are sure you can kill him and not ended like your brother?" Plog glared at him. Right at that moment, the heavy trawler stood up tall looking down the pale man. He flashed a sinister smirk and pulled out the blaster.

"Maybe I can shoot you, take the credits, and go alone. What do you say?"

Plog glared at him but didn't back off. He smirked back.

"That you should be smarter. I'm just the messenger, I don't think you wish to piss off The Shadow."

The trawler laughed but he stopped when the pale man kept the same smirk.

"Y-you work for Captain Qod?"

"I can call him if you want. He will be happy to know that you are trying to rip him off." chuckled.

The heavy growled and grabbed him by the neck, lifting him easily. Plog kept the same serious expression looking down at him. He felt the heavy hand around his neck but it didn't dare to squeeze him. That look in his eyes, the way he lost all confidence, it was priceless for the pale one.

He finally placed him back on the ground and grunted. "Fine, but the beskar is mine."

"Sure. If you can kill the fake Mandalorian."

...

Mos Pelgo

Everyone in town was busy that morning. Some were unpacking the cargo that arrived yesterday, being careful with the explosives they put at the storage. Others started to distribute the food between the families and local businesses.

The young redhead exited the small house and felt some eyes on her. The locals were talking and she tried to ignore that feeling. Her feet rushed towards the cantina, but a group stopped her. Amongst them was the little girl's mom. They all kept a serious expression while looking at her until the woman hugged the scavenger.

"Irella told me what happened last night. I had no idea she followed you but thank you so much for saving her." She smiled at her.

Nath stood still while the woman hugged her. She didn't know what to do and just mumbled gibberish before forming proper words.

"It's alright. It was my fault for going there."

"Non-sense. You must feel trapped in this town." The woman smiled at her. "My husband went back to that place this morning. Irella insisted that you forgot something important." She took out the small silver canister.

The redhead's eyes widen and took the silver container. She studied the holes on its sides and peek inside to check if the gems were still there.

"Thank you. I thought I lost it... you know... Jawas or something else would pick it."

"No, we were faster." Little Irella jumped behind her mother and smiled at Nath. "Are you coming to school with me, miss Nathsca? I wanna tell everyone our story." She hugged the redhead's legs.

Nath smiled at Irella and nodded. "Sure, I will drop this and join you, ok?"

The little brunette squeezed her a little longer before running back to her mother. Other locals just smiled at her as she walked by, going back to the Marshal's, who was already outside flashing at her that boyish smile.

"They seem to like you now." He crossed his arms and chuckled. Nath smiled back at him and shrugged.

"I suppose."

"Is that soup?" He pointed to the canister. Nath looked down at it for a moment before making up her mind.

"It's a long story. I will tell you tonight."

"So, you are staying." He chuckled, following her with his eyes as she made her way back into the house. Nath stopped at the entrance and looked at him.

"You know you can kick me out if you want, Marshal."

"Why would I do that? I like having you around, princess." He admitted.

Nath looked back at him and her cheeks turned bright red. She was not very used to pet names, or at least to nice ones. So far, he called her "kid," and she hated it. This one was new for her.

She rolled her eyes, puffed her cheeks, and had no idea what to say to that and Cobb flashed a smirk at her.

"Keep it on the back, if you want. We'll talk later." He walked towards the town to start his duties.

Nath stood there just watching him and the town. Even though it was a small place, she was starting to feel comfortable around, of course, only if she was staying. She wasn't sure yet. The last thing they needed was her problems.

...

The lone dunes.

The small womp rat crawled out from its nest. It stretched his little body and jumped around the sand. It sniffed around, looking for food. The rodent jumped around and perked his head up. The loud engine broke his peace, making him ran away as fast as possible before it hits him.

The trawler rushed on his bike, jumping on the dunes like it was a racing game. He kept a maniac smile across his face. Plog kept a regular speed and yelled at the loud heavy.

"That's enough!" He frowned. "You don't want to bring their attention." He yelled and stopped the speeder. The trawler did the same and gave him a puzzled look. "Before you show up and shoot around, let me talk to the man. Maybe we can make an arrangement."

"What?! You promised me the beskar."

"I know but I wanna make sure that he is keeping the girl around. I need to see her first."

"Why so much trouble for a girl?"

"Captain's orders." He took out the binoculars and checked the deserted area.

Right between the sun lights and the dust, he saw the distant town. He saw moving shadows, the Banthas, and nothing special. Still no sign of the girl.

The trawler folded his arms and looked at him quite annoyed.

"What now?"

"You wait around those rocks. Keep your eyes open and, if you see the redhead, don't think it twice."

The trawler just frowned and nodded lightly. Both men moved around the dune and split ways once they were near the town area.

Plog lowered the speed as he entered the small town, feeling the locals' gaze following him. None of them look dangerous, just farmers, women with kids but no sign of the redhead. They didn't seem to have much so bribed them would be easy. He finally stopped near the cantina. He hopped off and kept his hood up.

The Marshal watched him by the distance, making sure he wouldn't look at him yet. His first thought was about finding the trawler that was with him back in Bestine but he didn't want to risk either about leaving him with the locals.

Nathsca was inside the school when the stranger arrived, she peeked outside and recognized that hooded figure. She was anxious about meeting with that sneaky bastard. She always hated his ass-kissing mouth, trying to play diplomatic and wise when he was scared of Qod, just like everyone else. She needed to kill Plog first, too much risk if Qod finds out about this town.

The trawler kept the binoculars trying to pick on any sight of the woman or the fake Mandalorian. He didn't care if Plog was working for the Captain or if he was trying to be diplomatic. Hell, he didn't even care about the girl. He would use the old fashion revenge excuse to get the beskar.

The pale man made his way into the joint and, as he expected, there was not much to look around. Just tables, the counter, and the owner.

The old Weequay was sweeping the ground not paying him attention.

Plog lowered the hood and cleared his throat to get his attention. The old one looked up lazily and nodded.

"Greetings, sir." Plog flashed a friendly smile. "I was hoping that you could give me some information.

Cobb was still looking around for any sign of the trawler. He sneaked behind the cantina to listen to the conversation.

"Information?" He heard Weequay speak.

The old bartender just walked behind the counter and poured the man a drink. Plog followed him and examined the blueish liquid on his glass.

"I'm looking for a missing woman around her twenties. Slim, petite." He said and chugged down the drink.

"We don't get many visitors in town" The old one spoke and filled the glass again.

"I see but I'm sure this woman made a stop in your town. You see, I must find her. Women like her wouldn't survive much around dead areas like here." He flashed a cocky smile.

"Why are you looking for that woman?" Cobb finally walked in, with full armor with his hand around the holster. He gestured Weequay to leave the cantina. The old bartender rushed to the back exit, leaving them alone.

Plog turned back looking back at the armored figure and, smirked. "I had no idea I would find you here, my friend." Plog chuckled.

"One of your partners followed me, I assumed that you would show up at some point."

"Then you must know what I want."

"As he said, we don't get many visitors and, we don't like strangers either."

Back in the school, Nath was anxious. She sat with the others just to tell the story about the snake once they were done with the lecture. She couldn't stay still. Her feet drummed the floor, she was biting her nails.

Plog entered the cantina and the Marshal would step in at any moment, she thought. Maybe, he could lie a little and get him out of town but that was what worried her the most. She couldn't let Plog leave town cause knowing him and Qod they would come back and check every corner just to find her and the gems. The only thing that jumped in her head was killing Plog.

Nath stood up and excused herself. She needed to get the spare blaster and shot him down. Cobb wouldn't shoot him if he was disarmed and she couldn't risk their safety by letting him go.

The redhead sneaked out of the school and walked behind the other buildings trying to get back to the Marshal's that was not so far from the school. She stormed her way in, looking around for the blaster. She thought about the hidden gems.

Back in the cantina.

"Like I told your friend. I'm just trying to find this woman and that's it. Just point the direction and I will go." Plog poured himself a drink and one for Cobb. The Marshal didn't take the glass and kept his distance, studying the stranger's body language. If he dared to pull, he would put him down.

"Where's the other big fella? A guy like you wouldn't come here by himself." Cobb said.

Plog remained silent and squinted his eyes. Whoever was under that armor was not an idiot farmer. He sipped the drink and shrugged.

"Arent you a little paranoid?" Plog chuckled.

"I don't like people trying to kill me."

Plog chuckled and shook his head. "I think we can solve this." He pulled out a bag with credits and dropped it on the counter. "The only thing you need to do is bring the girl. And I will give you more because of the accident with my companion."

Cobb gave him a long look and chuckled. "Listen, pal, this is not gonna work."

"Then, you wouldn't mind me telling you a story. Back in the Empire times, there was a ruthless pilot that got a reputation for finding rebels. Everyone wondered how he did it. Did he have a spy between them? No, this pilot faced them, took down the entire fleet, but always left a survivor. That survivor was glad to be alive even if the enemy got him. His mind changed quickly when he met Captain Qod" he stopped to count with his hand and continued.

"3 days. It only took him 3 days to make him talk. Some talked faster than others but the Captain didn't care. Sometimes he tortured rebels just for fun." He smirked. "He was known as The Shadow. Of course, some believe that all empire workers went for trial, well, not the captain. He was smarter, made himself a crew, and turned into a pirate. But my point is that if Captain Qod is looking for something or someone, you better stay out of his way. He might not be so diplomatic as I am."

He pulled out a cocky smile and chugged down the drink. He liked talking like that about the power he had in the organization. People like him were useful, smart, no wonder why the Captain kept him around, but he was running out of patience. He needed to drop the girl if he wanted to keep enjoying his status. A silly brat and this armored farmer weren't gonna take his status.

"And the Captain sent you to the middle of nowhere just to find a woman? Are you sure he isn't just trying to get rid of you?" Cobb replied.

Plog frowned at him. He wanted to kill this fake Mandalorian. He hates that kind of men, the hero type trying to bring justice like they knew something. Just another peasant, he thought.

"Where is she?" He remarked.

"Just go, pal. You are wasting your time here." Cobb spoke.

The serious expression suddenly shifted into a mocking one. He was looking right behind the fake Mando.

"Really? Then who is she?"

Behind them was the trawler pulling Nathsca by the hair. Her hands were tied and, her mouth covered. She had a small cut across the cheek. Cobb's expression changed, glared the heavy and then the pale man. His hand was still near the holster, ready to pull but, the trawler pointed his blaster at Nath's head and spoke in huttese.

"Do it and she is dead"

"Drop that blaster, friend," Plog spoke to Cobb and smirked.

Cobb rose his hand and placed the blaster on the ground, kicking it away.

Plog rushed to pick up the weapon, walked towards the girl, and pulled her by the cuffs. He looked up to the heavy that kept a mean expression and, both of them smirked.

"He is all yours." Said in huttese.

The trawler smirked, kept the blaster on his holster, and motioned the Marshal to fight him. Cobb ran towards the heavy to punch him, but the big one dodged his swing and locked his arm around the Marshal to throw him across the cantina, hitting a few tables and seats.

The Marshall groaned on the floor and quickly stood up to block the hit. Both men pushed each other. The trawler was bigger and stronger, almost pushing back the Marshal, Cobb kicked him in the knee and sucker-punched at him. The trawler groaned in anger and jumped over him.

Meanwhile, Plog dragged the young redhead to the back of the cantina. She huffed and tried to fight back from his grip. "Now, my dear, you are gonna show me where are the gems." He shoved the blaster on her ribs. Nath tried to spit the gag away and cursed.

"Show me, Roznev. Or..." He pointed to the hologram watch. "The Captain will be happy to interrogate the whole town."

The redhead just froze and stopped struggling. Qod, she couldn't stop being afraid of him. She needed time or an idea to take down Plog before he said a damn word. The redhead motioned with her head asking him to follow her towards the dunes rocky area.

The Marshal was thrown out of the cantina and rolled down on the ground. The trawler yelled at him in huttese, holding the beskar helmet in his hand.

"This is gonna be mine." He chuckled darkly and walked towards the Marshal. All the locals were hiding in their places, peeking through their windows to see the brutal fight. One of them tried to fire the trawler, the Marshal signed them to stay back.

He stood up ready to keep fighting. The trawler walked his way and pulled him the scarf, making him stand up. His legs wobbled trying to stay still. Cobb kept his eyes on the enemy and, he flashed a toothy smile, keeping his heavy fist up.

"You don't deserve the armor. This is for warriors, slave." He spoke in Huttese and punched the Marshal two times. He spat the blood on the sandy ground and coughed.

Maybe Cobb was not very good with the language but, he perfectly understood that last part. He grew up being one that he knew those words.

"Last words?" The trawler raised his fist once more.

The Marshal looked up at him and smirked. The trawler's expression shifted and then looked down. The blaster was off his holster.

The blaster roar and hit him right in the belly. He loosed the grip on the scarf and fell on his knees. Cobb stood tall pointing right at him.

His mind snapped out of the moment and, quickly looked around for Plog and Nathsca. He saw the speeder still there. An elder farmer rushed to him telling him that he saw the redhead going to the caves with the pale guy.

Cobb rushed for the helmet, his blaster, and started the jetpack. Flying away towards the rocky area.

In the rocky area.

Plog kept looking around, keeping his blaster pointing at the young redhead. Nath was digging between the rocks.

"You know, you should be grateful that the Captain kept you around for so long. Now if he decided on giving up on you, just deal with it. There are more valuable things than just a little brat like you."

The redhead stopped digging and frowned right at him. Her icy gaze was intense, wishing to kill that scoundrel. Plog rose a brow at her.

"What? You thought he cared?" He snorted. "No, my dear, you were only his entertainment and, to be honest, he didn't trust you after the last job. He thinks you sold us."

"I didn't sell anyone." She spitted and kept digging with her bare hands. The sand was burning her pale skin, yet, she didn't care. She needed to distract him.

Plog rolled his eyes and moved closer to the rocks to look down at whatever she was digging. "Something tells me that you are lying to me."

"If it's not here, then someone took it" She frowned.

"Yeah, that's not possible. The Jawas told me you kept it all this time. I doubt that you lost it. You better start talking." He smacked her with the back of his pale hand. The redhead backed off for a moment and quickly kicked him right in the crotch, hard as she could.

The pale man gasped and fell on his knees, making the blaster fall too. Nath rushed to take it and, Plog kicked it away. He threw sand on her face yet, she jumped over him. She couldn't see anything, she tried to grab his arm to take the watch from him. Plog was in pain, he did his best to fight back the girl. He head-butted her hard and pushed her away. He looked down at the hologram watch, it was broken and, he tossed it away.

"I'm sick of you!" He raised his fist to her. Suddenly, he was kicked down by the Marshal that just landed.

Plog rolled on the dune and crawled towards the blaster. The Marshal followed him and kicked him right in the belly. The pale one screamed in pain and used his arms to cover, but the Marshal pulled him by the hem and started to punch him hard many times.

Nath blurry vision picked on the moving shadows. The blood was running down Plog's nose and mouth. Something that looked like a tooth rolled down in the sand. The Marshal rose his fist furiously to finish him but, a loud sound stopped him.

The distant alarm in town, the coming tremor from the ground. Cobb dropped the pale one and rushed towards Nathsca. Plog was dizzy but, he felt the tremor too, he crawled to the nearest rock and looked around in fear.

The monster. He thought.

Before she could say or do anything, the Marshal picked her up in his arms and took off when the large spikes came from the ground. Nath quickly hooked her arms around his neck and clang to him.

"It's the dragon" He yelled, flying towards the town.

The locals were in a panic, all of them rushed to stay away from the sand, to bring their creatures to the nearest surface, and let the monster make their way across town.

The shaking ground made the heavy wake up. He groaned in pain, frowning down at the wound on his belly. It wasn't that bad but, he wouldn't leave until he was done with the fake Mando. He saw the locals running away and he made his move towards the speeder to get the riffle.

He pointed towards the sky, looking for the moving figures; the Marshal and the girl. He took a deep breath pointing at them, flying right to him, waiting for them to get close enough. He even fought the need for blinking even once. The trawler smirked just thinking about his prize as they got closer to the sight, keeping his finger on the trigger but, a roar emerged from the ground, right in front of him and, the creature buried him with a single bite.

Nath saw the man getting eaten alive by the dragon. She thought that those monsters were only stories to scare little kids, but this creature, it was huge.

The Marshal finally landed with her back in town and wobbled a little. Everyone remained in their places until the large creature was away.

"He is back," Cobb muttered and sat down on the ground to remove the helmet. He spits some blood and then smiled at the redhead. He needed a drink after all that. Two fights in a row, it was more than he could handle but, glad that he was still alive and that she was safe too.

Nath's heart sank looking at him injured, the blood on his lip, the wounds across his face, and jumped into his arms to hug him tight. She was shaking, breathing heavily as she was panicking about it. Her face sank on his chest and, she muttered gibberish,

Cobb was still in pain but, he wrapped his arms around the redhead to keep her close to calm her down. Her body felt so small, his nose pressed against the crimson hair, he could feel her rushed heartbeat. She was scared, he thought,

"It's ok." He whispered and placed a kiss on her temple. "It's over." He caressed her back to calm her down.

Nath took a deep breath and shook her head. "No..." she muttered. "It's only getting worst. He knows."

"Who?" The Marshal asked.

"Qod..."

[op-peccatori]

Lover (NSFW) | MLQC Victor | Kinktober: October 7th

Number 3 for @alloveroliver‘s Kinktober Event ;) 

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice 

Prompts: Accidental Stimulation || Glory Hole || Massage

Pairing: Reader/Victor

Rating: 18+

Warnings: FLUFF, smut, sexy times, oral/blowjob

a/n: this one has too much of me. title based on Taylor Swift’s Lover...which is... my Victor song

His blood is heating in his veins with quickening pumps. His spine is tingling with excitement...and fear. Victor is in trouble. 

Your fingers work the arch of his foot, the thumbs digging into his skin bringing the most beautiful kind of pain he’s ever experienced. 

“Just relax and let me take care of you, okay?” you tell him with a soothing smile. He barely manages a nod in response, tugging the edges of the pale pink comforter up so it covers the flush creeping up his neck. This is perfectly innocent. He’s had a long day and was relieved to come over to your place when you offered, having no energy to cook. You’d taken one look at him and it had been one long pampering session ever since. It threw him off, since he wasn’t often on the receiving end of one. You had very nearly fed him with your own hands and he had very nearly given in. 

Maybe another day.

He sighs as you find another perfect spot and dig in, trying not to squirm as a slow wave of pleasure threatens to melt his limbs where they lie. He’s aware that you can probably feel him staring at you by now, but he can’t quite look away from the small smile curving your lips up, the concentration clearly visible in your eyes. And then your fingers are dancing over his ankles, beginning their work on his shins. He almost pulls away, unable to take the sensation. 

Victor is in trouble. He’s becoming aware of the bulge in the front of his boxers, unable to even distract himself as the heels your warm palms drag upwards on the top of his thighs and a groan rips it’s way out from the back of his throat. It’s immediately followed by an embarrassed blush. 

You don’t say a word, merely continuing to work on releasing his muscles, the tension having leaked out under your steady hands. 

He’s unsure if the comforter is still covering his crotch. He watches you kneel between his legs, whispers your name, soft enough that he almost hopes you don’t hear. But you do, and you meet his eyes assuredly, something wild yet soft glinting in your own. 

Victor wonders if you can see the guilt and shame in his eyes, at turning something so sweet into something so dirty. Can you see the longing, the want? The discomfort of being so turned on he that he just wants to drag you onto his lap and grind into you until he forgets his own name?

He can’t bring himself to say anything as you look at him, but he doesn’t need to. You don’t look away from him as your palms continue upwards, gently pushing his legs apart as you knead the firm flesh of his inner thighs dangerously close to his throbbing member. You pause. Your nails rake up and down his warm skin and. It’s torture. He’s convinced you’re trying to end him. He sweeps his tongue over his drying lips and your eyes follow the movement, darkening at the sight. Your smile grows. He lets you glimpse, just for a moment, the depth of his need and he hears your breath hitch, watches your eyes burn brighter.

His smirk falters before it can fully form when you make your move. One of your hands glides up to his abdomen right over his erection, giving it one maddeningly long rub as it passes, shutting his brain down with one movement. The hard muscles of his abdomen tense when your fingers crawl through the soft hair below his navel as you straddle him, caressing the hard planes of his chest as his heart attempts to jump out of his mouth and into your hands. And then your fingers are pressing into his throat, gentle yet firm, purlicue against his Adam’s apple. 

He’s unsure. He struggles for a moment. It would be easy to gather enough strength to pull you under him, to cage you in his arms and push himself inside of you. 

He relaxes into your touch instead. Victor will die before admitting it, but he wants to be taken care of. Just for tonight, he’ll leave it to you. 

You squeeze his throat once, sending a jolt of thrill and fear down his spine and straight to his groin. You let go and adjust yourself over him, comforter pulled away and your knees resting beside his hips. The air is a little cool over his flushed skin, it makes him shiver. Your hair spills over your ears as you lean down and he resists the urge to tuck it back. You hover over his face, mouth barely brushing his and still, you’re smiling. Your eyes are twinkling, tenderness clear and tinged with mischief. 

He whispers your name again and you give him what he wants, kissing him softly, again and again. Deeper with every kiss, your tongue tracing the soft curves of his lips before his own comes out to intertwine with it. His knuckles are white from how strained his hold on the sheets is.

"Relax, baby," you murmur against his skin.

Victor feels like he might break at your gentle touch. It bubbles up his throat, but you suck it out before it can choke him. Soft kisses along his cheeks, his jaw, down his throat. Your nails are circling low on his abdomen, his breath quickening and burning. Your mouth sucks bruises along his collarbones, and he just lets himself...feel. Your breath on his nipples, which tickles a little. You’re whispering such sweet things, bordering on filthy. "I love you. So much. I'll take care of you, I promise." He sighs softly as your mouth flutters around his chest, his abdomen, reverence and love in every kiss. Your tongue around his belly button, teasing and curious. His eyes are tempestuous, a bolt of lightning in a dark storm. 

You meet them in a single question and he looks at you like he might die if you don’t touch him. He lifts his hips hip when you peel his boxers off. Even as his cock jumps at the ghost of your breath as you laugh, he’s relieved you won’t make him beg. 

You missed a perfect opportunity, because he would have. 

You lick along the rigid length of him and his hips buck up, pinned down by your hand. You want to tease him, he knows. But he also knows he won’t survive it. Perhaps you do too, because your mouth closes over the tip of his dick, sucking softly, tasting him with relish. 

He thinks he might shatter, and he’s okay with it. 

Your eyes are half-closed, your mouth warm and silken. Your tongue teases the skin beneath the head playfully, taking him deeper as your fingers close around the base of his cock. You pump him with all the familiarity of a longtime lover, with a few twists of your wrist and a firm grip. Each bob of your head pushes him closer to his end, but he’s determined to drag you down with him. 

Privately hoping it doesn’t backfire, he pushes his thigh up carefully, pressing it against your hot core. You still around his cock for a second before continuing, squeezing him once in response. It’s slightly awkward, but his thigh rubs against you and he wishes he could use his hands instead, to feel your heat and taste it for himself. 

You pull away, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to him, and he takes his one chance before you can move down to his balls. His hands sweep under your arms, pulling you up and over him so he can kiss you deeply, his cock brushing against your clothed sex tantalizingly. It’s messy and desperate. He squeezes your breasts, you tug at his hair. 

“I want to feel you.” His words are a quiet request in the safe space between your faces, prompting a smile against his lips. You reach over to get a condom from your side table, ripping the foil and rolling it onto his length with deceptive ease, because your fingers are shaking and his own can feel the dampness of your underwear as he rubs you through them. You kiss him once more and he loses himself in it, grunting in protest as you pull away to remove your panties, leaving you in his old t-shirt. He tells you to take that off too, leaving you as bare as him, the gentle moonlight highlighting your skin to paint an arresting image. The feel of your skin against his is an addiction he never wants to get rid of, nothing will ever feel more like home.

Victor doesn’t protest as you push him back down firmly, watching with barely bated breath as you slip a finger and then two into your dripping core. You curl them in a way he’s intimately familiar with, his own fingers twitching at the sight, and you moan. And then you’re taking his rigid cock and guiding it into your drenched slit, another low moan escaping you at the sensation of being filled by him.

'This is everything,' he thinks. 'Everything.'

He loses any capacity to think straight, watching and feeling you take him deeper, starting slow. He’s slipping with every roll of your hips, each move crafted to drive him mad. Mad with love, mad with lust. Your walls are tightening around him and he nearly chokes, groaning your name weakly. Your hands rest on his abdomen, your hips lifting up and sinking down over and over again. 

“I–love you,” you manage to get out. You bounce harder, and his hands are almost automatic in how they come up to cup your breasts, squeezing and rolling your nipples.  Your eyes are bright yet glazed over, sweat dripping down your forehead. You’re glowing, and his heart feels like it might give out. He meets your hips frantically, his heels pushing into the bed. He’s close, close, nearly there but he wants you with him. He wants you to get lost with him, is the only coherent thought left in his head. 'With me. Always with me.' His finger is working your clit furiously before you can comprehend it, your walls clamping down on him and you both are pushed headfirst over the edge with loud groans. There is no thought in your heads, just a bone-deep pleasure that shatters minds. He falls and falls and falls. You pant as you ride it out until it’s painfully sensitive. Your hair is wild around your head when his eyes focus and he wants to imprint this sight into his brain. 

You hiss as he pulls out of you and you fall onto the bed next to him. Before he can say a word, you’re back up to help him pull off the condom, tying it and throwing it into the trashcan. You bring a towel to clean him up, push a glass of water into his hand, tuck the comforter around him with so much love in your touch his heart throbs painfully in his chest. 

As much as he wants to pass out immediately, he wants one last thing to end the night perfectly, to be put back together. But he wonders if it’s selfish, to ask for that. As if you can hear the barely coherent but longing thoughts in his head – you’re next to him, pulling him into your arms with his face tucked into your shoulder. You smell like sweat and a little bit like him, and he thinks magic might be real. It’s all he needs, he thinks, as he falls asleep to whispers of love and comfort. To be able to fall apart and just be held.