#i just wanna be ugly at home in peace

[harshserenity]

Woke up with a headache, my job is soul crushing, and I’m having a self loathing phase…..this days gonna be just peachy 🙃🙃

[thevampirearchive]

I was really nodding along at the last episode of The Last Of Us, like yes shoot everybody and get our daughter out of there. And maybe that is just the black woman in me - but sacrafice my life and nothing is guaranteed? nothing is certain?? After my mama birthed me in a dirty house next to fungus zombie, waiting to die hoping someone will come for me only to die at the young age of 14 to maybe save whatever is left of the sick sad world? Yeah I am glad he went for the headshot with that doctor, yall played in that mans face. Take samples and tests, and go from there, tryna cut her open right away BE SERIOUS!

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part one max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”

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One of the things Max Verstappen despises about being Max Verstappen is being Max Verstappen. Three time world champion, youngest race winner, mad max, f1 dominator, all the fame and media and people following him around. It's very hard to get a moment of peace or be treated normally. When people hear his name they either put on big smiles or ugly frowns. He hates the special treatment.

He misses when he could have a conversation without people recording or judging him. Without people whispering about him, or fake being his friend for whatever fame. When people would just spend time with him for the sake of spending time, or having a conversation for the sake of friendly socialization and conversation. Luckily though for the Dutch, in this day and age, Max could just enter a spare email in Discord and make a second lowkey account.

The pfp was a random photo of Max, a meme. Lowkey enough, Max decided after staring at the profile long enough before opening DiscoBoard. After scrolling and searching, he was dawned upon with a relatively small server with only 280 people online, surrounding sim racing. After he followed instructions on the welcome page like verifying he's not a robot and picking roles, he got his first ping. 

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Max met you in August of 2022. The way you talked and messed around with him got him constantly checking his phone for notifications over the next months. The way you befriended him and were relaxed around him once the two of you got to know each other, it kept him sane. And although Max didn't really reveal a lot about himself except that his work required a lot of traveling and effort, you trusted him enough to share about your own life up in France, ranting about your weird encounters as an employee at Cisco.

The blonde’s favorite part about getting home was plopping in his gaming chair and switching his Discord accounts. Pulling his headphones on and navigating through the server, he joined the active voice chat. It was as if he was switching lives, turning off Max Verstappen to be an irrelevant 26 year old.

“A millioooon.” you sang like you always did, a nickname you’d given him since amilian sounded like a million. 

“Laaaaa.” Max sang back with a chuckle before greeting the other acquaintances present on the call. 

“How was your weekend?” You hummed. 

“Same as always. Maybe a bit shittier this time.” He sighed, seeing you were on Gran Turismo from your shared screen. 

“I’d love to beat up someone for you.” You always offer when he’s down. The blonde would laugh and shake his head even though you can’t see. You never cease to bring him a smile with your tone and jokes and hearty aura, despite being kilometers up north. "We're waiting for Josh to take a few rounds around spa, you wanna join?" 

"Oh, yes please." friendly racing with no consequences, points or championship? just friends messing around and enjoying themselves? Yes please.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You see the new verstappen photos that just dropped, Mr. Max Verstappen nerd?" Max looked up from his phone, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at your dm chat where the two of you decided to move the call once everyone else put down the steering wheel for the night.

"This one is from Bahrain I think . . . you know, I'm starting to take a liking to him." Max rolled his eyes playfully at your words. "To be honest, I was kind of disappointed this weekend." Max rubbed his eyes, looking up at your profile picture. 

"Why what happened?" He asked even though he probably knew all too well the events of the Australian grand prix.

"Max DNFed on the third or fifth lap." You sighed. 

"Oh yeah?" Max hummed, pursing his lips, not wanting to recall the memories. "What's so bad about that? I thought you were a die hard Charles fan?" he asked. 

"Excuse you, I'm a die hard Fernando fan." You joked in a sassy tone which pulled a chuckle from him.

"What is it about Max DNFing that is bothering you then?" Max himself asked, putting his phone down to concentrate on your voice. 

"I just don't—" you sighed deeply. On your end of the call you rolled back in your chair, getting up and flopping on your bed with your phone in hand.

When you did answer his question, all Max heard was mumbles because your voice was muffled by your pillow. "Can't hear you, La. Aren't you happy about the Carlando podium? You were so happy about it last year." 

"I am happy, I am. But Max . . . well Max . . . i don't know." you grumbled frustrated. "He's such a good driver, and deserves a lot— he works really really hard."

Max never thought he'd hear you talking about him like that. He'd usually hear other people on the server dissing him and cursing him. And although you were always mostly neutral with the drivers, the way you spoke about Max tonight melted his heart. It also felt very wrong.

While you turned and laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling of your room, venting your feelings about a driver who you thought didn't know you existed, said driver folded his arms on his desk and leaned forward, resting his chin on his arms listening to you vent about how much you were amazed and proud even though you don't know him personally or him not being your favorite driver.

Max glanced up at his monitor as you sighed to gather your thoughts. "Sometimes when i look at him, he reminds me of myself. I never really got to go past karting, but for some reason I see a little bit of y/n in him." 

"—Y/n?" He sat up hearing the name. 

"I—" You face palmed upon the realization.

 "Is that your name?" Max asked. You nodded briefly with a sigh but he couldn't see.

"Unfortunately." You sighed. "Weird name, I know—" 

"I like it." He reassured. "It's not like Amilian is any better." he tried to lighten the mood, working slightly. 

"A million." you giggled making him chuckle back. 

"A million, " he repeated quieter, a small smile on his face as he leaned his chin back down on his arm.

Such a foolish thing to do, taking a liking to a woman you've never met.

Voice notes . . . ( my brain is like a zoo rn, starting projects and not being able to track anything while working on everything at the same time )Word count - ( 1, 165 ) credits for proof reading -> @classiclitfreak (check out their blog!!)

[charlesf1leclerc]

Warnings: Mentions of breastfeeding

summary: Christmas tree decorating with the Leclerc family

“ ok hot coco for everyone” you said as you walked into the living room where your three kids were sat around Charles as he put the tree together and put the lights on so you could start decorating.

“ Yay! “ Sicily yelled coming up to where you put the drinks down on the table.

“ careful it’s hot baby “ you said patting the top of her head before walking over to the play mat where 8 month old Remy lay on the ground, picking him up.

“ and you mister get mummy’s milk”

He looked up and gurgled up at you as you walked to sit on the couch and starting to breastfeed the boy.

You had a family tradition to always set the Christmas tree up in the first of December, you would decorate the tree together after Charles set it up and you would always have hot coco and put elf on in the background a Christmas classic. 

“ papa I want to help” Sicily whined at Charles who was currently trying to get all the lights to cover every inch of the tree.

Setting the tree up and the lights was always to much stress for you and Charles had perfected it so it now became his job.

“ yes Cherie why don’t you get the tinsel from the box over there” he spoke not looking away from the tree. 

The 4 year old ran over to the box picking out the tinsel then running back happily to hand it to her papa.

“ thank you baby” he leant down and kissed her head

“ once I do this we can decorate!” He exclaimed 

“ yay! “ Sicily exclaimed. That’s one thing you liked about her she was always excited for anything  

“ all done buddy” you soke as you felt Remy unlatch and began to burp him.

“ Indy why don’t you help your sister lay all the ornament out on the table so we are ready to start” you asked the 8 year old who sat on the couch next to you.

“ ok” she spoke getting up and they both started to unpack the ornaments 

You had a lot of basic but elegant ornaments for the tree but you also liked to put on some family ornaments like ones the kids made , ornaments of their names and little foot prints or little ballarenia ornaments you liked the tree to feel homely and full of love rather than aestheticly pleasing. 

You got up placing remy back down on his mat infront of the Tv and walked over to your husband. 

“ looking good hunny” you said placing your hand behind his back

“ I know I’m just so talented “

“ hmm sure” you laughed 

 “ my own wife has turned against me , cm’on Cherie you can’t tell me this isn’t amazing” he leant down to turn the lights on and the whole tree lit up

“ this one mum” dusky shoved one of the baubles. You bent down to her level

“ ok put it on the tree baby” you whispered and pushed her forward gently as she placed it on one of the lower branches. 

Charles walked over to wear Indy stood running his hand down her ponytail 

“ wanna but one on Inds? “ he asked

“ ok “ she picked up one of the ballerina ornaments and put it on the tree

“ And we can’t forget you little man, you wanna help mummy put the ornaments on the tree “ you whispered picking your baby boy up. Of course you put the ornament on the tree and he just watched but it was still very exciting for him. 

“ that’s my big boy” Charles bent down to pinch his chubby cheeks and then take him from your arms so you could help the girls decorate the rest of the tree. 

“ no that’s ugly it dosent go there” ah the joy of sisters Indy was very unimpressed with Sicily’s decorating skills at the moment. Of course with little kids not everything can be peaceful all the time there will always be some bumps along the way. 

But it’s ok because eventually the tree for decorated and it looked beautiful in its own special way. Just you, your little family and the perfect Christmas 

[bloompompom]

Safekeeping - Aftermath

the second part to safekeeping | read the first part here

After a proposition to lose your virginity to your brother’s best friend, it becomes difficult to move on once you’re away at college. Difficult for who? That's up for debate.

✧ content: ~9.4k word count. eren jaeger x female reader. modern/college au. upgraded from porn without plot to porn with feelings, older brother's friend trope, reader’s brother has a name, sappy af, mutual pining/getting together, oral sex (m!receiving), PIV sex, spit, praise, pussy job, alcohol use, explicit sexual content, explicit language, reader discretion advised. 18+ only. ✧ a/n: because they deserved a happy ending, didn't they?

You did it. Your first semester of college was officially over.

Actually, it ended roughly two weeks ago when your final grades were uploaded. Now, you were smack in the middle of winter break, left with no responsibilities other than lounging before your family’s fireplace. 

You were grateful, and it wasn’t just from the holiday spirit. You were overjoyed—and not to mention, relieved beyond belief—because college was everything you hoped it to be. It wasn’t exactly like the movies, of course, but it was damn near close. You got along well with your roommate, and for once in your life, your professors didn’t hold their grudges toward your brother against you because they didn’t have any.

And it just so happened that you were seeing someone. Something casual, no big deal.

You meant that earnestly. The guy wasn’t much to write home about, and he definitely wasn’t the one. He was just… there. 

It was fun, though! It had to be, or else you wouldn’t keep going back to him. You felt a connection right away—it was why you slept with him in the first place—but after your semi-regular hookups, it just sort of fizzled. It was fine. He was fine. 

Anyway, he hadn’t tried to reach out since you left, even once. You wanted it to hurt only because it felt like it should, but you couldn’t find it in you. Talking to him sounded less than appealing, if you were being honest. You much preferred to spend the better half of your days catnapping around a house much warmer than your dorm. The only person you bestowed your precious attention on was Hitch, your grade school bestie who was also visiting home. But that was about to change. 

After breakfast, your brother Collin came knocking at your bedroom door, creaking it open with just his knuckles. 

You peered up from your phone when he asked, “Got any plans later?”

“No,” you replied. He was giving you this weird look. Then he closed the door. “What’s the about?”

“I’m going to a party tonight. Wanna come?”

You looked from side to side because he had to be talking to someone else.

“Don’t be dumb.” He leaned against the wall like he planned to be there for a minute. “You’re old enough now. I’m sure you’ve gone to plenty at school, anyway.” 

You weren’t buying into the whole brotherly love schtick. You deadpanned, “Mom and Dad said you have to bring me wherever you’re going, right?” 

Collin’s shoulders slumped in that ‘you caught me’ sort of way. “I told them it was an ugly sweater party as a cover-up, and they bought it a little too well—said I have to take you if I want to go. They’re worried about you, all cooped up inside and—”

“Okay, I get it!” You didn’t need to hear that your parents thought you were a loser. There was nothing wrong with wanting some peace and quiet during your vacation. 

To really sell the lie, you needed ugly sweaters. Neither of you had thought that far ahead, and you had to go thrifting after your parents began pestering you about it. On the drive to the store, you told Collin he had to pay for yours since he forced you out, and he spent the ride home complaining that he should have simply snuck out and saved the money. 

“But then you’d have to cover for me, and I’d have to see your sad, lost-puppy eyes as you stayed in for another night,” he jested. You thumped his forehead. 

Hours later, the two of you were back in the same seats. Collin parked the car, and the overhead light cut through the pitch-black neighborhood. He unbuckled, then immediately yanked his knit sweater over his forehead.

“I’m not planning on coming home tonight obviously. I’m staying at Jean’s. What about you?”

“Hitch’s,” you answered, peeling off your own sweater and throwing it into the backseat. “She didn’t want to come, but she offered to give me a ride to her place to stay the night. I doubt I’ll stay long.” 

You stepped out of the car together. The doors slammed shut, and the sound echoed off the houses. 

“Sounds good. Just be sure to let me know when you leave,” he said. 

Collin parked a block or so away. On the walk, you started to overthink things. If Jean would be there, would Eren be there, too? You wanted to say it had been a while since you last thought of him, but that would be another lie you’d have to tally for the night. 

“So,” you drawled.  “Is Jean going to be here?”

Collin snorted. “Duh. It’s his house.”

He didn’t mention that earlier. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Past your stomach, like it had splat on the pavement. 

As fate would have it, you did see him at the party. Eren. Not immediately, but it might as well have been.

You had only drunk roughly three-quarters of a beer when you saw Eren, and it wasn’t nearly enough to dull the weird twirly feeling pitting in your stomach. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, but it was a confusing one, that was for sure.

It wasn’t that you regretted what you had done, not in the slightest, but that didn’t mean you weren’t nervous to see him. How couldn’t you be? This was the first time you’d been in the same room since you had naively bared it all for him, looking about as pathetic in bed as a newborn faun taking its first steps.  

At the very least, you expected to see Eren the morning after—you actually dreaded it. You stayed in your bed, laid on pins and needles, staring at your ceiling until you could no longer. And even then, the basement remained silent.

They eventually emerged from their hibernations once the afternoon rolled around. Eren was nowhere to be found, as if he was suddenly the earlier riser of the group. You supposed it was less awkward this way. 

In that emotional cauldron you were brewing, the one that was close to boiling over, you felt a dash of jealousy. It was strange and unexpected, but now that you saw Eren cozied up with some girl, her legs draped over his lap… the feeling was certainly there. 

You hated it. Especially after your eyes lingered for too long, resulting in very brief, very fleeting eye contact between you. It was over and done with so fast that you didn’t even get a good look at his face. Was he surprised? Indifferent? It was only a guess at this point. But you—well, you made it entirely clear that you were avoiding him, what with the speedy way you spun on your heels to flee. It was a dead giveaway as to how you were feeling, whatever it was. 

You tossed back the rest of your beer, then went scouring for what was next. Your best bet was what appeared to be a thrown-together hot chocolate bar. Not the best option but certainly not the worst. The slow cooker, still halfway full, sat warming on the counter. Surrounding it were loose bottles of cream liquors and peppermint schnapps, torn-open bags of marshmallows, and whipped cream if you were feeling fancy. Very on-theme for tonight’s holiday party. 

In an attempt to look busy—keep your gaze low, hands moving—you headed that direction. 

You fiddled with a stack of styrofoam cups and pretended you weren’t overwhelmingly flustered by this unbeknownst feeling. You didn’t do a great job at it. Or at least, Eren didn’t think so. And unlike you, he had already come to terms with his feelings, but only because it had hit him more or less like a freight train. 

So let’s go ahead and recap what the last semester was like for Eren, shall we?

Becoming a third-year freed Eren from the required dormitories and roommates. He spent the tail end of his summer moving into an off-campus apartment. It wasn’t much—exactly what one would imagine when asked to envision an apartment with a down payment suited for a student’s budget. One-bedroom, one-bathroom, but it was all to himself. 

No different than any other twenty-something, Eren was excited to be on his own. He could see it already: no one to answer to, no one to schedule his life around. And definitely no weird-ass habits he’d have to deal with from a roommate—one he, to this day, couldn’t believe he matched with based on the school’s dumb quiz. He just had to wait out the summer until his lease began, and then his life would officially start.

The vision derailed, of course, just two weeks before he was handed the keys to his (self-proclaimed) bachelor pad. The reason? It was easy enough to guess.

Eren could deny it as much as he wanted, but it wouldn’t change that after fantasizing about his friend’s little sister for days, he selfishly prioritized his needs over his friendship and took her virginity. And in a cruel turn of events, he wound up with feelings for her. It seemed a bit like karma, didn’t it? 

From the very second his eyes snapped open the next morning, he convinced himself it was nothing more than a hot dream—albeit one that left him rattled. But when he ambled upstairs, he found his half-drunk glass of water, untouched, exactly where he recalled leaving it. 

Days passed, and Eren waited for that dreadful pang of remorse to smack him upside the head for what he had done—what the two of you chose to do together. It never came. Somehow, that felt so much worse.

Now, he had a secret large enough that if it came to light, he’d end up with a black eye from his best friend. Not that it wouldn’t be well-deserved. Even he could acknowledge that. But he was far from guilt-ridden over it. The only thing he regretted was that he hadn’t spoken to you since. He never talked to you much to begin with—he didn’t even have your phone number—so it’d be weird of him to start now, right?

Eren didn’t know what was the right thing to do, so he defaulted to doing nothing. It didn’t feel like there was any right option, like he had already made too many wrongs to turn back now. 

His worst offense? To him, it was that he still thought of you when he was, for lack of better words, alone. But that was the only time!

That was how he justified it: he’d only allow his memories of you, though painfully limited, to seep to the forefront then and only then. It was a half-assed boundary at most, Eren knew as much, and it was so wrong of him. You trusted him, you told him that yourself, and here he was, shamefully fucking his fist to nothing more than a mirage because that was all you had left him.

He’d think of your sweet sounds. Those little, fluttering breaths would escape you as a shiver no matter where he touched you. Sensitive and soft and warm beneath his palms, he’d replay the moment you first tried to take him on your own. Lowering yourself onto him, Eren could see you shifting your hips as you learned how to take him, all of him, best. Past lulled and heavy eyelids, you were intent on getting yourself off, no matter what it took. And when you got there—fuck, he wished he could see it again. He wanted to feel it again, something his hand could never replicate. 

After, you never went away. That was when Eren knew he was in trouble. When you were no longer a perverted fantasy but still at his side when he’d close his eyes. No longer fucking but basking in the afterglow of it together. Your arm slung around his waist, your balmy cheek resting against his chest. Tangled sheets, kisses pressed to your forehead, bodies sheened and sticky with sweat—all of it. 

This went much deeper than merely offering a helping hand to someone in need before she left for college. Eren did the favor of scratching your back, but what you didn’t realize was that you had scratched his, too. The one itch he couldn’t reach. He still bore the scars of it. 

You had him in a chokehold, and you didn’t even know it. A very, very complicated chokehold at that. Eren couldn’t believe he had caught feelings for you, his best friend’s little sister! But now he was peeking at—no, who was he kidding? He was religiously checking your Instagram stories.

By the look of it, there was finally some action in that love life of yours. You were never explicit about it, sharing no more than a picture of his hand on your thigh or a strategically-snapped photo of your cocktail with the mystery man’s face reduced to a background blur. The subtle art of a soft launch. It told Eren enough. 

So when he noticed how your eyes sprung to the size of saucers when you saw him across the party, he was intrigued. Eren didn’t know when he’d bump into you next, but he often wondered how you’d react. And when you scurried off like a mouse, excitement sparked within him, even if it was at your expense. He needed to know then if you still thought about him—what he did to you, and you to him—despite being with someone else. 

He quickly decided there wasn’t any harm in approaching you to say—

“Hey.”

Eren interrupted you just as you attempted to serve yourself hot cocoa. You nearly dropped the ladle when you heard his voice over your shoulder.

You faltered as you piped back a ‘hi’ but smiled through it only because you realized he came looking for you. 

“Need some help?” He offered you a smile laced with pity. You followed his eyes to find yourself pouring hot chocolate onto your wrist. You didn’t feel the string of it until then.

You cursed but thanked him when he took your cup. Since it was apparent you needed his help, Eren started making your drink as you searched for some paper towels.

“What alcohol didya want?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead,” you admitted, nodding toward cocoa-coated hands. “Clearly.”

His mouth curled up at that but nothing more. He didn’t leave any time for your embarrassment to simmer before he replied, “Then I’ll fix you what I made myself.

By the time you were dry and the remnants of your mess were forgotten in the trash can, Eren had mixed your drink and extended it to you. You thanked him for it and took a sip. It was sweet on the tip of your tongue, enough to comfort the burn of liquor that tickled from your throat and down your stomach. 

You smiled at him, the kind that made your eyes crinkle. “Cream and peppermint liquor. Good choice.”

“I thought so,” Eren beamed briefly before adding, “Oh—almost forgot.”

He reached for the can of whipped cream, locking his eyes to yours as he angled the nozzle toward your face.

“Open up.”

His smirk was like a wordless language that only you understood. He told you he remembered it—in fact, he even still thought about it—and he wanted to know if you did, too.

You opened your mouth. 

A laugh bubbled through you before the cream even met your tongue. Eren’s laugh joined yours when half made it into your mouth. The rest landed on the corner of your lips, daring to spill down your chin. After you thumbed it into your mouth, Eren surprised you by dotting your nose with it, too. 

You weren’t stupid; you knew how this looked because it was exactly as it appeared. The action toed the border between playfulness and something more—something that wasn’t entirely uncharted, given your history, but just as forbidden. You would have cared more if anyone was paying you any mind. And if someone important—Collin, Jean… hopefully the list ended there—were to see, you were convinced you could wisely play it off as a joke. 

You never expected your next run-in with Eren to go like this. You hoped for it, the shameless flirting, but it was more likely that he’d avoid you like the plague. You convinced yourself of it. You moved on from that ephemeral night, began to see other people, and let your dead-end crush fade away. 

No, you didn’t expect this at all. And even if you had, you wouldn’t have imagined it quite like this, with every fiber of your being tightened and set ablaze. And when you laid a hand on Eren’s arm, catching yourself in a fit of giggles, it tightened in reflex, like he felt the burning, too. 

You hurdled through the pleasantries even though they weren’t necessary, considering Eren had sex with you off little more than a single conversation last time. In an act of modesty, you were sure, he didn’t directly ask if you were single but instead teased you about Fabio again—asked if you had met anyone that compared. 

You hadn’t. The guy you were ‘dating’ was far from your dream man, even to the extent that you had already considered how you’d end it when—if you ever heard from him again. 

But Eren didn’t need to know that. You rolled your eyes at the lame joke, offhandedly saying, “I’m sort of seeing someone.”

It piqued his interest, discernible by his raised brow. Either that, or he saw right through you. He leaned into you, close. You wanted to check if Collin was near, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

“Oh, yeah?” He tilted his head and repeated, “‘Sort of.’ What does that mean?”

You sensed he wanted you to spell it out for him, the dirty details of it, but you hummed, “You know, hookups, the occasional dinner—not exclusive.” 

Whether or not he detected the hint at the end, your answer didn’t seem to suffice. “Is that what you want?”

You swirled your drink, took another sip, and suppressed your shiver. “I’m still figuring out what I want.”

The next thing you knew, Eren had snuck you upstairs. For obvious reasons, you had never been to Jean’s house; you had not a clue whose bedroom Eren had chosen for the two of you. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t distinguish much under the tawny lights strung around the room, but that was far from your first priority. What mattered more was that no one saw you slip away with Eren. It was no big deal that you were about to have sex with your brother’s best friend on their other best friend’s bed, right? 

Fuck it. Quite literally.

You shoved the thought to the back of your head much like the way Eren shoved you against the door as he kissed you. He kept one hand cupped around your face and used his other to lock the door behind you. The moment the click of it hit your ears, he pushed a hand between your legs. 

You weren’t going to talk about it, the rather large elephant lurking in the room. That Eren offered to take your virginity much like a business proposition, and you agreed to sex that was supposed to feel just as transactional. But the reality of it was that you hadn’t stopped thinking about that night ever since. Neither of you had, so you’d go on and pretend like it never ended. 

He palmed over the crotch of your jeans, teasing you before reaching for their button. You indirectly made him work for him, keeping him close with your arms looped around his neck—close enough that your noses were smushed together.

Eren struggled with the zipper next, less focused on it and more distracted by your teeth, gently tugging on his bottom lip. He groaned, and it spilled into your mouth like honey.

You broke the kiss, hands flinging to your sides to slip from your jeans. You bent at the waist, eyes fixed up at Eren, as you wiggled them down your legs. Noting the deep rise and fall of his shoulders, you felt a similar stutter in your own. 

He confessed he didn’t have a condom. You told him you were on birth control now, and that was enough for you both to continue—so long as he pulled out, you reminded. He agreed by hooking your leg around his waist. You swung the other to match, locking your ankles against his lower back, and let him carry you to the bed. 

Eren navigated to the bed with suspicious ease. He walked backward, lips still on yours, like he knew the room’s layout and where the bed was. You wanted to wince at the realization—that the likelihood this bedroom belonged to Jean had skyrocketed—but you forgot it just as fast when Eren sat on the edge of the mattress, pulling you down with him.

You straddled his lap with hands on either side of his face, your tongue in his mouth and against his own. He still tasted like peppermint schnapps. Burned like it, too.

He rucked up your shirt as his hands smoothed along your back. You’d think his fingers were made of matches, scorching trails whenever they roamed. You gasped when he dared low enough to grab your ass, pinching at the fat of it. Your thin underwear bunched in his grasp, dragging along your skin with him. 

Eren pinned you to him, working you over the front of his jeans. Back and forth, your hips on a swivel, he used you to get himself hard, only stopping to smear his palms on his jeans when you’d start to slip from his grasp. It didn’t take long before you felt him, stiff and nicely pressed between your legs. 

When you started to grind against him, demandingly and all on your own, the kiss went sloppy. Though the plush of your lips brushed together, it was less like making out and more like swapping breaths. Like a warm fog swirling around you, you grew dizzy off it. Eventually, one of you would have to come up for air.

You pulled away right as he sat back. You’d call it harmonious, but that would make it sound graceful. Each of you fumbled to get your shirt over your head, and it cascaded into a tangle of limbs and clumsy laughs. You reached for the hem of his T-shirt next. You’d hate to be the only one in your underwear.

You didn’t see them but felt the tight muscles of his chest. They didn’t give under your touch, even as you flattened a hand against him. He picked up on the hint, that you wanted him to lay back, and you moved together. He pushed himself further back on the bed, you following in a feline-like prowl above him, until he rested against the pillows. 

It was a new side to you—at least, one that Eren hadn’t seen yet—and he already craved more. You were no longer shy, not in the way he remembered, but entirely disinhibited with this, dare Eren say, beyond turned-on look on your face. Glassy eyes, kiss-swollen lips, and the cherry on top: that devilish smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. 

He could only gawk as you pressed your smile to his sternum, then a bit lower. Then even lower than that. Your lips skimmed over the smooth skin of his hip bone, tickling him, smacking him with the realization of how dangerously low you were. Every muscle in his body tightened, his cock throbbing to be touched. 

Only a tad bit desperate—he’d call it enthusiasm—Eren snaked his hand down to undo his belt. Once it was off, you helped him out of his jeans, working them and his boxers down his legs. You settled between. 

Eren was so kind to you the first time, so exceedingly gentle; the least you could do was give him the chance to see what you’d learned since. 

You placed a hand on the top of his thigh. Already, it flexed. You slid it higher, merely palming over his cock at your leisure—not his. He chewed on his inner lip in anticipation, fighting the impulse to rut against your hand. He wasn’t prepared to look that pathetic, even if he felt that way watching you wet your lips. He knew what was coming next, and if he had any air in his lungs, he would have whined at the sight. 

When you finally brought your mouth to the tip of his cock, he sucked in a breath. That was all it took, just a swipe of your tongue; you didn’t even have to take him past your lips. Wanting to pull another noise from him, you did it a second time, licking him from base to tip, agonizingly slow.

You knew what he wanted. You could see it plainly on his face: Just put it in your mouth already! Anything, please! But instead of flinging a hand to the back of your head, he gripped the sheets. He let you tease him despite that it wasn’t the time or place for it. Outside the door, there was far-off music. It was indistinct, buzzing behind heavy footsteps and creaking floorboards and laughter—the usual party rumblings. It was as ambient to Eren as white noise, no greater than a low drone. He could only concentrate on suppressing his desire to ruin you—as if he hadn’t done so already. But before he could do that, you needed to show him how much you could take.

So you did just that. Inch by inch. 

Eren’s abdominals clenched as more of him disappeared past your lips. Your mouth, wet and oh-so warm, was tight. Intentionally so as you wrapped your lips around him with hollowed cheeks. You found a comfortable, steady pace, bobbing your head over his length. You only paused to gather your saliva, allowing it to pool behind your front teeth. Unabashedly, Eren watched. 

It was a sight so incredibly pornographic yet one he found undeniably adorable. Your little expressions had him smitten—how you pursed and puckered your lips before finally spitting. It dribbled from your bottom lip in a lewd string connecting you to him. You let out an uncomfortable giggle, then snapped it with a swipe of your thumb.

He’d say you officially had him wrapped around your pinky finger now—as if he hadn’t been pretending that wasn’t already the case for months.

Up and down, your hand spread the saliva over his length with little resistance. After a moment, you returned your mouth to him, and the little rasp of a moan he let slip caught your attention. Through tear-damp lashes, you found his eyes keen on you, his jaw slightly slack in what you’d only describe as awe. 

The buttery lights warmed the side of his face, glinting like fire behind his eyes. You studied every part of his face, from the twitch of his brow when you’d lap your tongue along the underside of his shaft to how his nose would scrunch when you’d swirl around the tip. You wanted to learn exactly what made him feel good so you could do it over and over again, as he had with you.

Eren wrestled himself on whether he should let you continue or not. He didn’t want to stop you, dutifully attempting to take all of him without choking, it was just that he had a better idea in mind.

He sat up enough to guide you to his side with both hands. You could tell he was trying to be smug, but his voice sounded taken as he told you, “Looks like whoever you were with must have been a real amateur.” 

Eren had you perpendicular to him now but still bent over so you could keep on as you were. 

“Or just selfish,” he added. His hand stroked down your spine and over the curve of your ass. He reached between your legs and pushed your panties aside to make room for him. “Because this way, I can touch you, too.”

You moaned when his fingers traced over your slit. He used the pads of them to circle your clit and didn’t falter even as you wiggled back against his hand. With his free hand, he cupped your face, gently encouraging you to pick up from where you had left off. You were more than willing. 

He dipped a finger inside you. On impulse, he jerked deeper into your throat when he felt you flutter around the intrusion, as if he could feel it in his cock. Every whimper he’d coax from you sounded even sweeter when muffled.

“Not to mention, he must be a fucking idiot to miss out on this.” Eren’s voice was a murmur up until the end. Then it was a hiss. “Because I bet you look real pretty coming with your mouth full.” 

He spoke to you softly, the timbre of his voice a warm hum, yet his confidence was palpable. The back of your neck burned.

Though you clung to it like a shield, your strength began to waver. It was evident by the quiver in your thighs every time he’d slip from you, fingers dripping, to play with your clit. Every time, you followed it with another strangled whimper. Each was like a gift to Eren.

He had brought you to the brink of becoming undone. All the while, he watched contently, head drooped to his shoulder and everything. He felt the tiny huffs from your nose fan over his pelvis as you sputtered around his cock. Your arm would wobble, elbow threatening to give out, as you struggled to focus on him and your orgasm, impending and fogging your senses. You had forgotten how wonderful another person could make you feel, and this was just his fingers. 

Eren was a bit of an anomaly; it only took you a few encounters to conclude such. Not everyone was talented with their fingers or their tongues or their—the list could go on, really. But it was more than deftness alone. Eren actually wanted to make you come, and by the look of it, he was just as needy for it as you were. And you were right there, the heat of it winding in your stomach until your entire being gained a pulse of its own. 

You came with Eren’s cock in your mouth. It overtook you in a glow, burning you from the inside out in a series of little explosions. You dug your nails into his thigh. Your other hand, though shaky, was still around the base of him. You were hardly conscious of how you squeezed him, but he didn’t even feel it. He was more enraptured by the way your throat tightened around him as you choked through your orgasm.

Past the thick thrumming in your ears, you heard how much Eren enjoyed that lovely little mouth of yours—how much he enjoyed using it.

Thunder emitted low from his chest as he rolled his hips, meeting you halfway to ensure every bow of your head was punctuated by another squeak of the mattress and his tip bumped against the back of your throat. He was as delicate as could be while fucking your mouth, yet tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. They welled up and threatened to drip down your cheek, teasing him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It tumbled from Eren’s mouth in a ragged chant. His head was thrown back into the stack of pillows, but he fought to steal a glimpse of you before your knees buckled beneath you. “Look at you. You’re fucking perfect.”

Your heart skipped. 

You liked that you were the reason for his pleasure—the reason his cheeks bore a flush, and why he could no longer hold himself back. Seconds ago, you had set a scene just as vulgar, helplessly grinding against his hand in a chase for your own high. And now that he was just as swept up in it, he could no longer pretend he had dreamt only of fucking you gently.

There was no way Eren could finish before he had the chance to get started. He regrettably pulled out from your mouth with a spitty pop.

You were still panting when you traded positions. Eren laid you back on the bed, gazing down to trace over the features of your face. He petted the side of it when he said, “You did so good.”

He kissed every spot he touched. Your cheekbone, the lobe of your ear, then the dip below it. You felt each one at the base of your spine.

“Talk to me.” Eren nuzzled the words in the nook of your jaw, breathed them over your skin, sensitive and already tacky from your swelter. His tongue and teeth grazed down the column of your neck. “Tell me what you want.”

There wasn’t any air behind your voice, nothing to carry it when you tried to reply, “Take off my underwear. Please.”

You went to raise your hips for him, but your legs had long turned to mush. There was an unmistakable tremble to them as Eren shimmied off your underwear. You placed a leg on either side of him, spreading yourself and welcoming him between. His eyes, alert as a hawk’s, widened before falling exactly where one would predict. Then he swallowed hard. 

He was faced with the task of taking all of you in, as if it were even possible. You followed the tips of his fingers as he trailed them up your curves with a butterfly’s touch. He toyed with the strap of your bra, now wilted off your shoulder and dangling at your arms. With a quick tug, he had your breasts popped over the cups.

Eren licked his lips. “God, you’re—”

He eagerly crashed to your chest, right between your tits. He didn’t intend to cut himself off, but he decided it was probably for the best; he wasn’t sure what he was about to spout out, anyway. 

You were just as sensitive as he remembered, unable to keep still as his large hands squeezed at your breasts, kissing and nipping and licking every inch of the delicate skin. When his mouth was latched to one, flicking his tongue at your perked nipple, he’d continue playing with the other, rolling his thumb over it. 

As though you could possibly drift away, you anchored yourself to Eren. You raked a hand through his hair, fingering through the lank strands that escaped his tie and hung loose. Before you could screw it up any further, you flinched when you heard voices booming on the other side of the wall. Your entire body froze as you glanced over to the door. 

Either Eren didn’t hear it or if he was only pretending he didn’t. His hold on you was steadfast as he covered your body in kisses—that is, until the handle jiggled. He tore away then to follow your line of sight. 

You waited for something to happen. Anything. Like the knob to rattle again, or a pound that would shake the door. Maybe someone would kick it down—you didn’t know! But the only sound between you was the thumping of your heartbeat against Eren’s.

Whoever it was, they must have wanted the room for the very same reason you and Eren did because, after a minute passed, you believed they had left. The groan of the floorboards grew distant as another hot and bothered pair continued their search for a vacancy. 

You brought Eren back to you by lightly taking him by the forearm. You were unable to wrap your fingers around the entirety of it but managed to pull him in, anyway. At the same time, you dug your heels into the mattress and scooted closer to him.

“I want you,” you quietly confessed. You lifted your hips, angling them in an attempt to meet his cock. 

Eren needed to convince himself this was real—that you were real. You hardly gave him the time to before you hitched a leg around his waist. He collapsed over you, caging you between his forearms. His eyes had darkened, brows sitting lowly above them in that drunken, determined look of lust. 

He kissed you. The corner of your mouth first, then fully on your lips. Between your legs, you felt him brush against you, throbbing. His tongue parted your lips, slipping past them the moment he pushed inside you. 

It stole your breath. Though your mouth was agape, a tiny ‘o’ against his, not a sound left you. He slipped out of you, then filled you again. Your breath returned in the form of a moan. He did this a few more times, deeper with each tilt of his hips, fucking you languidly, just to see if you could take it before he bottomed out.

Eren straightened out. “You okay?”

You gazed up at him and watched his lips curve into a soft smile when you whispered, “More than.” 

Then you watched it melt away once you wiggled against him, encouraging him, asking for—no, taking more of him. As though he had been waiting on you, he finally pushed deeper until he was flush against you.

You realized Eren’s composure was an act because it much snapped like a rubber band. You caught his inhale, through his nose and sharp in your ear. His head dropped on his exhale, and you felt it vibrate through you. He thrust into you a few more times, adjusting to you, while tiny grunts played at your ears. 

Keeping in mind your whereabouts, you expected this to be a quickie. But before you knew it, you were having the type of sex that wasn’t meant for a friend’s bed. It became pounding hips, so intense—so fucking good—that you heard Eren’s hand hit the headboard with a smack, gripping the top of it for support. It was erratic kisses. Ones that were messy and missed but would catch another part of the face, like the bow of your lip or dip in his chin; gasping and stealing damp breaths from one another in a bedroom growing headier by the second.

Lest he wished to come now and completely ruin everything, Eren had to pump the breaks. He sat back onto his calves and shoved a hand through his hair, sweeping it away from his face. His chest looked heavy, yet his arms remained sturdy as he cradled your hips. He fucked you slowly, mesmerized by the sight of him burying inside you—how well you took him—again and again. 

Flustered, you tried to remember how to breathe, but Eren made it difficult with his lazy eyes and an even lazier smile. 

You felt your whole body react when he placed a hand at the base of your neck. You were silk beneath his touch, from the dip between your chest, down to your navel. He traced along the side of your body and the swells of your breasts, then repeated it.

Eren had known you for years, but he didn’t know you—not like that. But he knew enough to say he liked you. And he was sure he’d only grow to like you more—a lot more.

He couldn’t wait to get there, to know everything there was to learn about you. Your birthday, your favorite food, what you liked to do on a rainy day—hell, he wanted to know what superpower you’d choose if presented with the option. He wanted every detail of it, and that had to mean something. 

Eren grabbed your hand. He held it against his face and kissed the inside of your wrist. 

“You’re so soft,” he told you, voice pitched low and spoken into your skin. 

The only coherent thought you had was how desperately you needed him again. You yanked him forward until his mouth was back on yours, where it belonged. Taking your open mouth as an invitation, he sucked your tongue lightly. You felt a frisson of heat beneath your skin, but it prickled like a chill.

“Eren. More,” you pleaded, your voice lost somewhere in his mouth. 

You twisted beneath him. Eren pulled out and watched as you rolled to your stomach, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. You could only glimpse over your shoulder, but it was enough to see that his eyes were trained on you.

Suddenly hot under his gaze, you rushed to add, “Only if you want to.”

Whether it was intentional or Eren was just seeing things, he swore you arched your back as you said it, ass in the air like it was an offering. 

Of course he wanted to. He wanted to so badly that he nearly couldn’t get the words out. From his mumbling, you could only make out, “You have no fucking idea.”

Eren had to kiss you then, everywhere that he could reach. Your lower back and then the valley of it next. He kissed a path between your legs. With his hands on your ass, he spread you, luring a squeal from you when he licked a stripe through your pussy. 

He stood tall on his knees, kicked your legs apart, and plunged inside you with a swift swing of his hips. You let out an indulgent moan, your hands clawing fists into the pillows. With the fingers digging into the dough of your sides, he worked you over his cock. 

“You feel so fucking good,” Eren panted, almost like a laugh, as if he was in disbelief. He wanted to say he had forgotten how wonderful you felt, almost like you were made for him, but how could he forget? He had only been longing for it. 

“Fuck,” you whined under your breath.

You didn’t see it, your head had dropped between your shoulders, but Eren smirked. 

“You like when I talk to you, don’t you?”

He watched how your back arched deeper before you answered, babbling, “Yes, yes—oh fuck, yes.”

There was little else on your mind other than how close you were to coming for the second time. Absolutely desperate for it, you bounced back against Eren’s thrusts. He cursed through gritted teeth, watching you sink back onto his cock. His hand snaked between your legs in search of your clit. He began rubbing tight circles that you felt in your toes. 

You squeaked out a small, breathless sound as your body tightened.

With a voice like gravel, Eren hummed, “There you go.”

He fucked you through it. His hips never lost their pacing, and the rhythm of his fingers was resolute even as you twitched below him. It wasn’t until you heard him grunt, “I can feel it—shit, I can feel you coming—you’re so tight,” that he began to strain.

With a cheek smushed into the sheets, your moans were choppy until they sputtered into one last sigh. You went slack in Eren’s grasp.

He slipped an arm beneath you before you could crumble to the bed, holding you close enough that he could feel your rabid pulse against his arm. Eren folded over you, lazily rutting into you. You felt his weight atop you, the words he etched into the nape of your neck when murmured, “I wanna be with you.”

Blame it on the orgasm, but for whatever reason, it didn’t register with you. Be with you—wasn’t that what was happening right now?

His hand scooped your chin, angling your face to kiss your temple.

“Come back to my place.” Eren ghosted his lips over your ear. “I wanna be with you tonight, like I should have the first time.” 

You could only assume the blood had left your head by now. Your eyes fluttered shut. You were as malleable as putty; you’d agree to just about anything at that moment—if you could. Hazy off all those feel-good hormones, you couldn’t manage a nod as your body rocked with his. After a few more jerks of his hips, he pulled out.

He didn’t come but flipped you onto your back. You slumped into the pillows willingly, your legs falling at your sides so Eren could nestle between. He didn’t enter you again but laid his cock against you, nice and slick for him, and spread you with it. He held himself there with a flattened palm and fucked between you. Wrecked and tortuously sensitive, the head of his cock bumping your clit had you spinning to the point of seeing stars.

Eren’s eyes snapped shut as he focused on your blissful purrs below him. He was already close; it only took another stutter of his hips before he threw his head back and came across your stomach, some of it spurting as high as your tits and neck. The muscles of his arms flexed, the veins of them chiseled and defined, as he held you there, soft and pliant for him.

He was still breathing hard when he stilled. He flexed his fingers, stretching out an ironclad grasp, as he sat back on his heels.

“Fuck, what a mess.” Eren croaked a chuckle. “Sorry.” 

He stood and poked around the room a bit before locating a tissue box on the dresser. It skipped through your mind to ask if this was Jean’s room, but you decided it was best you didn’t know. 

Eren gave you some tissues before taking his handful to wipe you clean. Despite your attempts at controlling it, you were visibly trembling. He must have noticed because he didn’t rush to dress but flopped beside you, even if he claimed it was because he was too hot to put his shirt back on. 

You lolled your head to the side to look at him. Dew painted the edges of his face, catching what little light was there and defining the structure. 

You shared a look, let it linger between you. It was unreadable. A face of shock—one you surely mirrored, and yet comfort lapped at you like tropical waves. The two emotions, together in stark contrast, could be summarized with a simple, ‘It’s you.’ 

Said once through a heavy sigh, like the realization that you were only startled by a friend around the corner.

Said twice with your jaw cartoonishly dropped to the floor when you realized who you had sex with again—the prickle of surprise when you rouse from your dream only to find them naked at your side.

Eren patted the top of your thigh before heaving himself upright. Time to go.

You quickly dressed and straightened out as much as possible, double-checking that no one’s clothes were on backward. Eren was fixing his hair in the mirror when he asked, “You ready to get out of here?”

“You were serious?” you questioned—nicely, of course. You figured it was only a heat-of-the-moment sort of deal.

He caught your eye in the reflection. “I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t serious.” 

It slipped from his tongue easily. It sounded natural, no different than fact, as he told you what he wanted—you. The words were weighty, dragging your woozy head back down to Earth. They sobered you up like a splash of ice water to the face. 

You didn’t have any desire to return to the party. There was no way either of you could continue on as though nothing happened. Someone would catch on. Besides that, you didn’t want to pretend any longer; you were much more interested in seeing where the rest of the night would take you—where Eren would take you. 

You plotted your exit well enough that Eren was waiting on your ride outside by the time you were sneaking out. You had texted Collin that you were leaving and took his lack of reply as a good sign. You gave Hitch a half-truth—told her you were going home with someone but didn’t specify who. 

Eren’s apartment was nice, neat. Still exceptionally new and hardly lived in. Then again, he didn’t fit the type to go full throttle into interior decorating. 

He immediately pointed out the bathroom because you had complained you felt gross during the drive. There, you rummaged around a bit before you found his face wash in the shower. You freshened up as much as you could, stealing a swig of mouthwash to rid the syrupy taste of liquor from your teeth. 

Eren knocked at the door. You spat into the sink, wiped your mouth, and peeked out.

“Thought you might want these,” Eren said, offering what appeared to be clothes much comfier than your own, folded and stacked in his hands. 

You thanked him, inspecting them once he left you to change. You decided on just the T-shirt; it covered enough. There was no use in hiding now, and it certainly wasn’t worth risking tripping over the legs of his sweatpants.

Though you were practically tip-toeing, Eren heard you the second you walked into the kitchen. He stepped out from behind the refrigerator door dressed in just a pair of shorts, no shirt. You held your breath when he smiled at you, ever so lopsidedly that you found it cute. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” he said like an admission, with a sheepish laugh and all. 

Your giggle was just as lighthearted, smiling when you replied, “I am, too.”

He neared you in a step with ardor sparkling through his eyes. With hands closed around your waist, he scooped you up and plopped you onto the counter. 

You yelped when its chill hit the backs of your thighs. You made yourself comfortable, sitting happily and with dangling feet, as you watched Eren cycle through what little preparation was necessary for a frozen pizza.

You’d seen him like this, exactly like this, just as you’d seen all of your brother’s friends lumber out from his bedroom at three in the afternoon on a Saturday. You never looked for too long; that was off-limits. But now, things were different. He was different—to you, at least. Now you could touch. 

You studied the sinewy muscles of his back, how they pulled taut when he reached into the freezer. Even under the fluorescent light of the kitchen, the crests of his shoulders shone like gold even though it was the middle of a sunless winter. 

Eren squinted to read the instructions on the back of the box. Your snickering was met with his side eye, and he followed it with a ‘don’t laugh’ as he tossed the box aside.

He snatched a bag of chips from the counter, and the two of you split them as an appetizer while the oven preheated. While the pizza baked, you played a game of twenty questions, just to pass the time. And when the timer blared, you ate your slices straight from the oven and asked each other questions with burnt tongues. 

You learned that Eren’s birthday was on March 30th and that his favorite food was a cheeseburger, hold the pickles—that part was important. When it rained, he preferred to either nap or go outside to watch the storm, no in between. And if he woke up one day to discover he had superhero-like powers, Eren would want to be able to teleport and travel the world, even if his clothes couldn’t come with him—yes, you asked. 

The questions continued into the bedroom because some answers, like the one to the superpower question, inspired lengthy conversations. You met Eren in his bed and curled against him, letting him spread the blanket over you. You were glad to have stuck with just the tee because you liked the feeling of his skin returning to yours, your legs intertwined with his.

It was Eren’s turn. It was the final question to end the game. You thought he’d contemplate it longer, as he had with his previous questions, but it only took a beat for him to ask, “Can I see the guy you’re dating?”

“Absolutely not!” You scoffed a laugh at his audacity, even sitting higher in your seat to balk at him. “Besides, that’s not how the game works.”

Still, his grin widened. “C’mon, please. It’s the least I deserve.”

He poked you playfully, causing you to giggle as you asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I need to size up my competition.”

You wanted to be just as bold and tell him there was no competition, none at all. But your reluctant, “Fine, here,” said enough as you settled back into the crook of his arm. 

You outstretched your phone before your face, far enough that Eren could see the screen, and scrolled to your dating app. You flitted through his profile because you didn’t want Eren to get a proper look, but he plucked the phone from your hand anyway. He glanced from you to the photo, then back to you once more.

“Seriously? This guy?” He tilted his head knowingly. “You know you can do better than that.”

Thinking you were clever, you sassed, “Oh, then are you suggesting you’re better?”

He flashed a cheeky smile. “Of course I am.”

You grabbed your phone from him with a roll of your eyes. “Whatever. He’s nice.” Eren pulled a face. “What?”

“It’s just the way you said it—‘he’s nice,’” he explained. “You don’t actually like him, do you?”

Eren was right. You didn’t want to admit it, though, not with the way he was eyeing you. But the truth sat heavy in your chest, and it consoled some of the weight to outrightly say, “No, not really. Not like I thought I did.”

You didn’t have the chance to set your phone aside before Eren snagged it again. Now aware of the guy’s name, he easily sorted through your contacts and found your messages with him. The unanswered text you last sent, well before winter break, stared back at you mockingly.

You felt a twinge of embarrassment waiting for Eren to comment on it, but whatever he was thinking, he kept the comment to himself.

It was undeniable that the guy must be a real prick for ignoring you. In turn, Eren determined he probably deserved what was coming: a message as short and sweet as ‘I think it’s best we don’t see each other again.’

Though you could have stopped him at any time, you still gasped, “Eren!” when he sent the text. It was meant as a scold but spilled from you as a laugh—as laughter, shaking your shoulders and making it a challenge to get your phone back.

A middle-of-the-night text like that could only mean one thing. You were sure he’d put the pieces together—that you had gotten with someone else—but you didn’t care. Now that he was out of the way, Eren ditched your phone next and captured the last bit of your attention.

His eyes were loyal to you, looking you straight in the face as he told you, “I like you. A lot.” He said it calmly, with a voice like a breeze. He brought a hand to your face and grazed it with the backs of his fingers. “Way more than I should, considering…”

Eren’s voice trailed off in a too-knowing way. He left it up to you to fill in the blank. No, blanks. Considering the only history between you was a two-night stand? Considering you lived three hours away? Or—how could you forget?—was it that you were the younger sister of his best friend? 

The correct answer? All of the above. 

Eren had more to say; you were sure of it. There was much—too much—left to be said. Tonight wasn’t the night for it.

You buried into the curve of his arm. Nose pressed against his neck, you breathed in the smell of his day, the salt on his skin from fucking. You lazed a hand on his chest. He was warm, live beneath your palm, his heartbeat like the patter of a tiny drum. 

You took the bait then, carelessly pitching him, “So, how’s this going to work?”

Eren heard the smile in your voice. His fingers found your chin, angling your face toward him. On it was that coy smile of yours, the one he remembered from that night. He kissed it, soft-lipped, as chaste as a mere taste.

“We’ll figure it out.”

[tarjapearce]

soccer family wife meeting Miguel’s family for the first time?

👀 Miguel has a potty mouth.

(This is before meeting her family btw)

"So... when you're gonna introduce your girl?"

"A Pitufina?"

Gabriel didn't hold back the ugly snort at the nickname

"God, that's such a terrible pet name."

Gabriel poured the coffee for the both as Miguel prepared breakfast. A bit of Huevos rancheros and fried red beans to pair it with.

"She might come later, she's been busy."

"Right."

Gabriel put two of sugar to his mug as he handed Miguel his. The proceeded to heat up some day old tortillas.

"You're gonna tell mom about her?"

"No."

Miguel's voice monotone, but firm. Gabriel sighed and slanted over the counter, eyes on the tortillas as he crossed his arms in his chest.

"Look, I don't wanna be that guy, but... don't you think it's been years?"

"Yeah. Keep them coming."

"Just do it out of politeness. She'll find out one way or another And you know how mom gets."

He flipped the tortilla and Miguel served.

"I couldn't care less what she thinks. Pásame el chile. Besides that's precisely why I don't want them to meet." (Hand me the chili sauce)

"I just wanna know why you won't talk to her about this. Like... You've gotten a girlfriend!"

"Por Dios, you're so annoying at times. Get over it. Yeah, I'm dating. So?"

"I was worried, Miggy." Gabriel gave a dramatic sigh as he put the other tortilla to heat up, "Thought you'd end up as a true hermit living off caffeine and stress. "

"Cabrón"

"Tú el doble." (You're it double)

"En fín. Cállate y come." (Anyways, shut up and eat)

"I'm just happy for you. I... I know you don't believe me when I say stuff like this. But Im glad that... Pitufina or however bizarre pet name you wanna call her, is with you."

Gabriel sipped his coffee and sighed.

"You've been less of an asshole lately. You have fun even, so I'm glad. Happy you can finally get some peace with yourself and she seems a good woman too. So... Congrats. "

"Thanks." 

"What if she asks to met mom?

Miguel shook his head.

"Doubt it. Mom is troublesome. Nothing is fucking good enough for her. Just like Pitufina's mother."

"Kinda understand why you got together now"

Miguel snapped his head towards him with a glare.

"Ya no te cuento ni vergas." (I'm telling you shit.)

"Okay, okay, terrible joke. Sorry. Just... How bad is it?"

"Bad. Strangers practically. Won't expose her to meet mom and throw at her face her own troubles. Mi niña has had enough as it is."

Gabriel's eyes widened upon his older brother's words.

"I think I might get used to this sappy version of you."

"Make fun all you want but even I know there are limits when it comes to being a dick. So don't mention this to mom." Miguel's eyes fixed him with a staid face as he waved his index finger as a warning to him, "And I mean it, Gabri. Don't want her to also ruin this for me."

"I won't, relax. Is not like we're really close or something."

------

Your knuckles held the wheel tighter as you approached Miguel's apartment. He wanted to introduce you to his family.

So you put yourself in an outfit appropriate for the occasion. A little blazer with a tank top underneath, some jeans and matching low platform espadrilles.

Miguel rarely to never mentioned his family to you, and the sparse times he did, only mentioned his brother.

You had seen Gabriel a couple of times but never interacted with him beyond a couple of words or pleasantries if the situation demanded for it.

You parked and let Miguel know that you were outside. He lived in the second floor of an apartment complex.

He came out after a couple of minutes dressed in his stay at home clothes. A stark contrast on your outfit. You bear hugged him and he kissed your temple.

"Uh... why are you wearing that?"

"What?

You gestured

"I feel so overdressed now"

"You're fine. You're meeting Gabriel."

His arm wrapped around your waist as you made your way towards his apartment.

"Just him?"

"You sound disappointed"

Shaking your head with a smile as you climbed up the stairs. He chuckled.

"I'm not. I was nervous at the thought of meeting your parents but... knowing it's only Gabriel is less nerve wrecking."

He sighed and stopped you as his apartment came in view.

"Long story short, I don't get along either with my mom and the sperm donnor is out of the picture. Gabriel is the only constant one in my life. "

You kissed his cheek and held his hand tightly as you held a little gift on the other one.

"Thanks for telling me. I was thinking in escaping while you distracted them. But glad it won't be necessary. "

He chuckled at your attempt of lightening the mood. His keys tinkered as they turned and opened the door.

"Gabriel?"

The younger O'Hara looked up from his seat in the living room with a smile, turning the tv off

"Hey" He stood and approached you both. You gave him the little bottle of a collectible mezcal bottles.

"Miguel told me you liked this brand."

"You didn't have to, but highly appreciated." The nickname kind of made sense for Gabriel now that he saw you next to Miguel.

You introduced himself as you shook Gabriel's hand.

"A pleasure to meet you, thanks for tolerating my brother enough to date him."

You snorted as Miguel glared holes his way.

"He's not bad. Except when he runs out of coffee"

One of your arms wrapped around Miguel's waist as he held and entwined your fingers with his on the other.

"Ah you tell me. I'm the one that's sent to the store to replenish. Older brother privilege and stuff."

You couldn't help but giggle.

"Didn't know you bullied your brother like that."

"Can't believe you're in his side."

"Hey, I'm the youngest too. Totally relate on that"

"Anyways, a pleasure to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, Gabriel.."

"Don't wanna sound rude but I gotta go meet a client. See you guys later."

"Ve con cuidado." (Careful out there)

"Have a nice day, Gabriel."

"You both too."

Gabriel retreated to his room to then leave the apartment with his laptop.

"You can breath now, Pitufina"

"Stop calling me that? Please?"

He shook his head and kissed you.

"Then it wouldn't be fun to do that"

"Ya pues. Dame otro." He kissed you again with a smile and you giggled. (Enough. Gimme another one)

"Wanna watch a movie or you want me to cook for you?"

"Both? Please?"

"Sure"

[azulock]

so I wanna requests the guys as dads, I remember at some point you said you wanted to do something like this and I really wanna see it

Time to rull up my sleeves, cause I did say I was gonna do one of those right? Back when I got annoyed that all I found was girl dad this girl dad that and I got tired of all the typical gendering going on in dad fics.

Ryusei Shidou

Girl dad in the most chaotic way possible. Tiaras coexist with bows and arrows as a princess fights off an invasion. Every doll and plushie has a tattoo made either with a sharpie or from a patch attached with hot glue. Every tea time is a mafia family meeting that always involves an assassination plot. And the barbies live very intense lives that inevitably delve into wrestling like storylines where each one has a gimmick, a long standing feud, and a clear thirst for blood.

Chaos may not be the best thing to keep an organized home, but it's good for mental development. And much like a kid, Shidou also thrives in creative chaos. He isn't the best at practical things, especially the ones involving routine and quiet time, but he has got his uses. Very good at wasting his daughter's energy until she drops straight into a deep sleep. His antics are also good at convincing her to eat pretty much anything. And of course, great at entertaining her so you can take a break.

Oliver Aiku

Boy dad but like he really doesn't care, he'd be giving the same extremely affectionate, and even a bit clingy, treatment to his kid no matter the gender - sugary sweet nicknames included. Probably heard people saying he coddles his son too much, treating him like a princess, but Oliver is good at playing deaf. Tho, that kid gonna have to fight for the right to have his feet touching the ground, cause dad wants to carry his offspring everywhere. Sure to raise a boy as clingy and openly affectionate as him.

Those reflexes honed for football are quite good at catching a kid before an ugly fall. And he's actually good at the general everyday stuff, surprisingly patient too. Takes a genuine interest in the things his son likes, so when the boy shows sudden interest in colorful nail polish, he'll show up to a match with badly painted soft purple nails. Likes sleeping on the floor with his boy, when asked why the floor and not the bed he brings up the old man excuse of "the floor is good for my back".

Reo Mikage

Girl dad and he was ready for a little princess, but what he got was more of a cave dwelling gremlin. He was expecting frilly dresses and tea time but he gets a little girl who likes bugs, playing in the mud and digging things from the ground. It hits him as a surprise but he adapts to that, and as much as he isn't very excited for the cleanup afterward, he is always eager to entertain his girl's odd interests. If buying dinosaur fossils weren't such a legal can of worms he'd buy one just to bury it for her to dig up.

If he wasn't convinced to go to therapy before, now is the moment to convince him. Just gotta say he should do it not to become like his dad and he's gonna be booking the appointment fast. Will be reading child pedagogy books and shit like that to make sure he can be a good and understanding dad. Really just trying to kill his family's trauma conga line at himself - wants his daughter to trust and count on him in the way he never could with his dad.

Michael Kaiser

Boy dad but to the gentlest, sweetest of souls, a little boy who seems to have absolutely nothing in common with his dad, aside from some physical traits. It at the same time shocks and scares him, because the world out there is not kind to sweet people. But while the boy is at home, Kaiser can keep him safe. It does frustrate him a little bit when he tries to get his son into football but the boy is more into art than sports, but he learns to move past that. Truth is, he wanted the boy to mirror his traits a bit more, so this is a humbling experience.

That poor rose tattoo of his does not see a day of peace after his son learned to color. Tho, Kaiser gets used to the shaky new roses drawn on his skin fair enough. And he actually considers getting a full tattoo of just lineart and not colors just to let the boy color in. He's not the most patient so he has a bit of a hard time getting used to the whole parenting thing, but he does try his best. Also, whenever he takes his son out somewhere he makes their clothes match in color scheme.

a word from out sponsors: @tinnaagine @loser-vxbez @kiurona @bentolover @bevernats @weirdbutpr3tty @ada7201 @vollereix @rinitosh @kum1ko-chan @romanticizemai @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @qichun @true-latverian-baklava @oliveraikusweatyshirt @fivenightsatwhoreville @geemyfirstluvstory @mariyumemi

[agendabymooner]

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 !!! 𝐥𝐧𝟒 — 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

☼ PENG TING FROM McLAREN

chapter summary: honey-sue lewis was so much like her brother wroetoshaw but everybody didn’t know how alike they were until lando, a stranger, got her a bouquet she didn’t even know he bought.

OR why talk to lando norris in real life when you can just send an apology through airdrop?

content warning: use of explicit language, written + social media chapter, honey radiates big harry lewis energy (oblivious, wants to go home, can’t pick up social cues), petty lando (my man is just simping leave him alone), mentions sidemen diss track era

note: shoot me an ask about anything! enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

Her second morning in Monaco started when she had dressed up in her comfortable striped shirt and a pair of washed jeans and departed the hotel to head down to the coffee shop nearby. 

Monaco was a place of glitz and glamour, indeed, but Hannah-Sue, or Honey, would only move and splurge her money on a flat here because of how close everything was in the principality. She could get pissed on a bar here and still make it home by walking. 

She loved it so much. Plus, the locals here were nice! Whereas she could get mugged in the streets of London even if she did nothing but breathe. Then again, she grew up around British people— so being sworn at was just a typical day. 

Peace and serenity was what she had expected on her second day. Ever since she saw her mates’ driver friend yesterday at lunch, she hadn’t been able to look anyone in the eyes anymore. She couldn’t even look at her brother without being awkward— Lando’s eyes were always trained on her when she spoke. 

She hated that he had to be so stupidly attractive and funny. She hated that he was so friendly. She hated that his stupid good looking face was making her even more socially awkward and conscious. 

But as her second morning went on, the thoughts of him had gone away. 

She stood from her seat and excused herself, “I’ll check out the streets right now,” she told her brother Harry and their friends. “I quite like the outside.”

“Honey if you smoke I swear to god—“ Harry tried warning his sister.

“I’m not gonna smoke, you ugly donny,” Honey quipped. “I’ve got no cigarettes with me.”

Filly looked at Honey with a concerned expression, “Are you sure you wanna go out by yourself? Can I come along?” She truly appreciated Filly’s presence in this trip, because he was genuinely worried for her. And they’ve only been friends since last year, so for him to care about her like this showed Honey that being friends with people weren’t all that bad. Not when someone could treat her like Filly did.

Honey smiled genuinely and shook her head with insistence, “I’m alright, Fils. I’ll be out quickly. ‘Sides I’m not gonna get robbed here or anythin’.”

“Yeah she right, she’s not in London,” Chunkz piped up with a snort. “Just be quick, yeah, because our food should be out soon.”

Honey had soon walked out of the place and looked around the streets of Monaco, the hustling and bustling city filled with luxury and ambition as her eyes skimmed through the stores. She truly loved the beauty of the principality. 

Her attention soon turned towards her left, where she found a person around her age waving with her eyes widened.

“Hello- I- oh my god,” the girl started, “Hi- Honey-Sue, right?” Honey nodded with a puzzled smile as the girl sighed, “Okay good— I’m such a big fan of your music and I uh- you’re here for the race right? I am too! I uh- can I take a selfie with you, perhaps?” 

“Oh! Thank you and uh, sure!” Honey nodded and placed her arm around the girl’s shoulder as the fan took a photo of the two of them. 

“Thank you!” The fan exclaimed with a grin, “I would’ve had something signed but I got nothing with me right now- and by the way, congratulations on the double platinum and the platinum for Lust for Life! I’m looking forward to your newest albu—“

“Excuse me, what?” Honey looked at the fan with a confused look. 

“Oh…” The fan trailed off. “Lust for Life just became a platinum album… did you not check your Twitter?”

“No? I uh—“ Honey stammered, still shell shocked at the news, “I don’t usually— Shit I do need to check my twitter and talk to my manager— alright, lovely chatting with you! Cheers mate! You have a good day!” 

Honey dashed inside the restaurant with news to bear.

Why, of all the times she could’ve gotten this news, did she learn that she just reached her platinum record status during her trip to Monaco? When it’s, arguably, the most stressful time for her considering that she was forced to meet new people? 

yungfilly posted a story!

Honey-Sue usually wasn’t this stupid. But whenever new people showed kind gestures to her, her social skills and ability to pick up cues would deteriorate dramatically.

Sure she could’ve just stopped rambling for a brief moment, but she couldn’t help it— nice and considerate people just make her short circuit especially if she didn’t know them before. 

(Hell, even KSI would get her anything she’d like and she’d still be humbled about his kind gestures. That entire “KSI called her a sket so now she’s making him pay for it— literally” ploy was just a front for JJ’s platonic affection for her. The petty Sidemen diss track days were over yet he doted on her.)

She smiled meekly as she continued to examine the bouquet of paper flowers at hand. She twirled the bouquet around her fingers as she admired it. 

“Yeah, we found out that you’ve gotten your platinum for your second album,” Ria continued to speak, but Honey couldn’t stop speaking and stammering. 

“Thank you so much,” Honey said once more, “this is quite nice. I- uh, it wouldn’t die on me so that’s something I can keep in my place for forever…? I really absolutely love it.” 

“And uh- Lan-“ Max tried to tell Honey but the singer couldn’t help but continue.

“I didn’t really expect this— I have to put this in my suitcase—“ Honey rambled. “Though I’m not sure if I should tuck it into the suitcase because this might flatten— excuse me guys—“

“—He- Lando—“ both Ria and Max tried to speak again but the Guernsey girl was already up on her feet as she began to head for the lift with Harry following suit.

Honey was still rambling to her brother as she asked, “Can you airdrop the photos? I ought to post those in my story.” 

“...Lando bought it for you…” Max trailed off, shooting a look at Ria as they sighed in defeat. 

It wasn’t even five minutes after when they received a notification from Instagram saying: “honeysue mentioned you in a story.” 

They weren’t sure how they’d be able to deal with a sulking Lando. Especially when Honey didn’t learn that the McLaren driver was the one who bought the paper flowers before he headed off to the track for his media day duties. 

She could’ve at least read the note he’s written, right?

—

honeysue posted a story!!!

Lando was staring at her. 

And she was staring at the pasta on her plate as she refused to look at anyone. Not when the McLaren driver was staring at her with something of a curiosity in his eyes. 

Was it curiosity or disappointment? Because he probably was disappointed that she was socially awkward and didn’t know when to listen and understand.

She wanted to apologize for not crediting him for the gift. But the way he looked at her told her not to bother— he probably fucking hated her anyways. He probably thought she was a bitch for that. 

Especially after when she realized too late that it was his bouquet that she’d gotten. The message in the card was clear as a day in Monaco.

“Congratulations on your platinum! You’re amazing! Love, LN4 xx” 

She ignored the conversations around her as she continued to sip on her second cocktail of the night. Her head felt a little bit light, but she was sober enough to apologize to him. She had to apologize otherwise she’d feel too guilty and embarrassed.

After all— there’s a couple more days of the Monaco weekend. Her brother Harry’s intention was to spend some time around Lando’s peers. 

All Honey could do was apologize in hopes that the two of them would part ways. 

Meanwhile, Lando Norris stared at the screen of his Twitter as notifications came in from his recent post. It was probably stupid that he acted all petty towards Honey’s obliviousness, but he couldn’t help it. 

He really admired her. And he took her obliviousness about the flowers as a sign of rejection. 

He couldn’t even find himself to look away from her and he knew he was making her uncomfortable— or so he thought. 

And as he stared mindlessly at his screen, a faint sound escaped his phone as a notification popped up.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head.

Honey fidgeted on her seat, her fingers running through her screen as she mindlessly typed away on her phone.

She could’ve just talked to Lando seeing as he sat across the table. But she couldn’t— she was too socially awkward and embarrassed after that whole fiasco. 

He accepted the airdrop that she sent a minute or so ago. But he seemed to not have decided to say anything more seeing as he hadn’t approached her like he did a day ago. 

She was just about to accept humiliation and defeat until a notification came from her phone.

Yeah. Maybe there’s some room for improvement here. 

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen

[bitchimasnake-sss]

iconic (random) quotes as the strawhat crew + shanks, ace!

luffy:

- if you didn't wanna get assimilated into my found family, you should have killed me when you had the fucking chance - i dont have sex cause it serves no narrative purpose to me - (flirting) you look so biteable today - the fact that i am constantly saying weird and unpleasant things is just part of my charm

zoro:

- he's probably texting so many girls sweet things. stand out. tell him you're gonna stab him. - got caught giving a fuck. embarrassing. - *clearly covered in blood and guts but trying to act normal* ok. maybe i did awaken my inner beast. so what. fuck u guys - dont care, didnt ask, plus my boobs jiggle when i walk

sanji:

- talking stage? baby just move in we can talk at home - hes NOT just some guy, hes my girlfriend - how is "pretty boy" an isult?? yes, i am the prettiest boy in town, call me a pretty boy - "what if your gf was wrong?" i'd reshape reality to make it right.

shanks:

- i knew i was gonna be a good daddy at the ripe age of fifteen - if i had a lame ass boyfriend i would hype him up so much. i'd make him wait outside as i go in first and and be like get ready here comes the most specialest boy ever if you dont cheer and clap for him ill blow this whole building up (talking about buggy) - bro your relationship with your friend is borderline homosexual and i think thats beautiful

ace:

- "i can fix him" good for you, i joined him in his insanity - (gripping the bathroom sink, knuckle turning white) but i stay silly :3 i stay silly :3 i stay silly :3 i sta - *gets caught pickpocketing cause i keep saying "yoink" out loud when i do it* - everyday i have to wake up and carry on being a little babygirl

nami:

- i am so happy for you and your ugly fucking boyfriend, im serious - if i had a boyfriend i'd trap him in a glass jar and shake him around - puts cocaine in my lip gloss so when she kisses me she thinks im god - you let a blonde man speak to you like that????

ussop:

-you can't "im just a little guy" out of this one cunt - i could never abuse substances, i love substances - you'd be amazed about the amount of times ive fucked around without finding one single thing

chopper:

- girls be like "i love animals!!" and hate themselves....... like you're an animal girl <3 peace on planet earht - if you look really closely i have this "fear meter" floating next to me that goes up whenever anything - being six feet tall seems excessive

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [16]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: medical trauma, mild gore (I’m not super descriptive), mentions of blood, angst, fluff, domestic bliss, brief male masturbation, tons of self doubt, idiots in love

Word Count: 10k+

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night,  you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a  far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be  exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you  fall more  and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant  for everyone.

Ch. #16: I DON’T WANT IT TO BE A SIN

a/n: if you thought the sneak peek i gave you was peak domestic bliss y’all ain’t gonna know what hit you right out the gate👀

“i had never met a soul

who could speak my language.

until there was you.

you, are fluent in me.”

-lonely.penguin

When you reached the front door of the house, it occurred to you that just walking in could be a problem. With all the drama going on today, the last thing you needed was adding ‘accidentally breaking Din’s creed’ to the list. You poked your head in and called out, “Hey, I’m home!”

“We’re in the kitchen!” Din called out. His voice didn’t sound modulated, but the words made it seem like he’d be ready for you by the time you arrived. You closed the door behind you and seconds later you heard Grogu’s voice hollering for you.

“Ma, ma, ma, ma!” He chanted while turning the corner and rushing toward you. Seeing his cheery demeanor as he waddled to you, full of life and energy, made you forget every single worry that was clouding your mind.

“Grogu!” You gasped with a grin. Quickly, you knelt down in time for him to leap into your arms and you cradled him to your chest, peppering kisses along the top of his head, “Hi, baby. I was so worried about you.” 

“Missed ma.” Grogu buried his face into the crook of your neck and tears sprung to your eyes. Maker, you were pathetically emotional today. When you looked up from the boy hugging you, you saw Din leaning against the wall with his helmet on. His arms were crossed over his broad chest. His black t-shirt was form fitting and you couldn’t help but admire the skin available for you to stare at. Knowing he didn’t reveal himself in this state to anyone else made your face flush with warmth. Grogu un-buried his face from your neck to set his hands on your cheeks⏤ dragging your attention back to him. “Epar.”

You ran through the dictionary of Mando’a words you knew until you found the familiar word. “Eat? Did buir make food?”

“Buir tried.” Din grunted. “But someone is being picky.”

Grogu blew a raspberry at his father and both you and Din chuckled in response. Picky or not, having Grogu awake and playing was such a relief. Din pushed off the wall and drifted closer. As he approached, you felt your breath catch in your throat. If Din noticed he didn’t comment. Instead, he caressed the side of your arm with the back of his fingers before letting his hand trail down until it rested on your lower back. With this new position, Grogu was sandwiched between the two of you.

“Hi.” You mumbled softly.

“Hi.” Din echoed back, but his voice was tinged in amusement. “How was Nima?”

You nodded. “Good. She’s good. How⏤ Um, did you⏤ I was wondering⏤”

“Are you hungry?” Din asked simply as you tried and failed to squeeze out a sentence about your future. “I made three different meals because Grogu asked for them then changed his mind after a bite. So you have options.”

You gave him a small nod and Din led you toward the kitchen keeping his hand on your back. On the kitchen counter, as he said, were three small portions of different dishes. Each with a Grogu sized bite taken out of it. You ticked Grogu in the side. “What do you wanna eat, baby?”

“It’s a trap. Don’t believe anything the little womp rat says.” Din hummed.

“You’re not a little womp rat. You’re a little angel, aren’t you?” Grogu giggled at your cooing and his laughter increased at the sound of his father’s scoff of disbelief. You opened the fridge with Grogu in your arms and let him peer in. Regardless of what he asked for, you were going to make him something light. The last thing you wanted to do was upset his stomach. But considering you still wanted to give him one more dose of antibiotics, he definitely needed to eat something. Grogu began to point at the fruit drawer and you chuckled. “Okay, baby. How about you go hang out with buir while mama makes lunch?”

“Come here, ad’ika.” Din held his arms out to take Grogu from you. 

It didn’t take you long to prep the snack for him. You had taken the plain yogurt in the fridge and used the blender to mix the fruit and yogurt together. His favorite fruit was a bit acidic so you wanted to make it less so with the yogurt. When it was made up, you brought the bowl over to Din and Grogu and scooped a bit on a spoon. He took the first spoonful then chirped for another.

Din snorted with a shake of his head. “You’re really becoming a mama’s boy, you know that?”

Grogu ignored him and continued to take any spoonful you offered him. You shot Din a sheepish smile, “Sorry. I promise I’m not trying to steal him away.”

“Don’t be.” Din replied. He used the hand not holding Grogu to hold the boy’s hand. “I like to see it. I’m happy he has a mama to be a mama’s boy for.” Your heart skipped a beat in your chest⏤ something you thought only to be a figure of speech. “I can finish feeding him if you want to eat.”

You nervously shook your head. “Can we⏤ Can we talk before we eat?”

“Of course. Say what you need to say, ner kar’ta.”

“Actually, I was hoping you could say something.” You admitted. Grogu, plenty happy with his food and being surrounded by those who loved him, just lightly bounced in Din’s arms as you fed him. You shrugged. “I assume… Did you read my file?”

“I did.”

“And?”

You waited nervously as Din remained silent. As comfortable as it had been seconds before, you didn’t want to fall into a lull of false security. You wanted Din to share his opinion so you could figure out your standing in his life. Finally, after feeding Grogu five more spoonfuls, Din spoke.

“What is a fat embolism?”

The spoon in your hand shook as your hand trembled and you were forced to set it down into the bowl. Grogu whined at the motion. It took you a moment before your hand felt steady enough to resume feeding the child. What a question. A lawyer had asked you the exact same thing while in court. It had been difficult to answer then as well and not because of a lack of knowledge. 

“It’s when a globule of fat blocks blood flow.” You murmured. “You can see it after trauma. Fat seeps out of a bone fracture, gets into the bloodstream, and it…” You took in a slow breath. “It’s not always fatal. You just have to catch it early, and we⏤ I didn’t.”

Din nodded. “That’s what the file said. That Soran’s cause of death was cardiopulmonary arrest due to a pulmonary fat embolism.”

“I thought we were in the clear.” You said and your voice came out in a whimper. “I thought she was okay. She was stable. Soran was stable.” There was that word again. Stable. It hadn’t met anything that day. Maybe that’s why you had used it so much last night and this morning. If you said it enough it would be true. You should’ve said it more that day. “She was stable and then she wasn’t.”

Finished with the bowl of yogurt and pureed fruit, Grogu whined to be let down and when Din followed the child’s instruction Grogu waddled away. Both of you watched him heard toward the hall before Din’s focus on you pulled you back into the moment. He reached out and let just the tip of his fingers drag down your arm⏤ leaving a trail of fire against your skin. Din didn’t stop until his hand slipped into yours, fingers tangling together. 

There was a sense of security that came with the weight of his hand in yours. Din’s thumb traced circles where it rested. “What did you do?”

“What?”

“Can you walk me through it? I don’t know a lot about medicine.” Din lifted his hand, carrying yours with it, and rested it against his chest. The back of your palm pressed against his heart. You could feel it’s steady beat. “Not unless it’s bacta or cautery, that is.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the comment, but it was short lived. You gave a small shrug. “She crashed. Soran couldn’t breathe. There was no other reason for it so I knew it had to be a clot. I had hoped it was a blood clot. I could fix that.” You pressed your lips together. Eyes focusing on the edge of his helmet⏤ unable to meet the eyes you couldn’t even see. “Started a blood thinner to break apart the clot, but it didn’t help. That’s when I knew… the blockage wasn’t a blood clot. It was a fat globule.”

“What are you supposed to do for that?”

“There’s nothing you can do. Not at that point.” You answered. “We don’t have a medicine to break up a fat embolism quickly. The moment it got lodged in her lungs like that…”

Din nodded. “How do you prevent that from happening after a trauma? Is there a medicine for that?”

“Well, no, you⏤ Din, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to understand.” He replied. “The court transcripts had a few different testimonies. They all had a common agreement. Every doctor interviewed said Soran was dead the moment that building landed on her.”

You shook your head and tried to pull your hand away, but Din’s grip tightened. He wouldn’t let you go. “She was my best friend. I knew her since we were kids. We grew up together⏤ we were neighbors. I shouldn’t have been her doctor.”

“You were the only one available at the time. You tried to find someone, but there was no one else.” Din replied. “If you hadn’t jumped in, then she would’ve died even sooner.” He leaned forward. “The starship collision caused the building she worked in to collapse. Soran got trapped in the rubble. A pillar fractured her femur and shattered her pelvis.” The way he spoke was as if he had memorized the transcript itself. “Soran was trapped for eight hours before she was un-buried and brought to your ED. A pulmonary fat embolism, something you said that can’t be prevented or treated, can form six hours after even a single fracture.”

Your bottom lip quivered and you bit down on it in a poor attempt to control your emotions. These were all facts you knew. Logically, you understood everything, but there was a part of you that could not shake the guilt that planted roots in your heart. The entire trial you had sat in a haze. You barely remembered the specifics of those days. In fact, only one memory stuck with you⏤ the hatred and rage in Kurt’s eyes as he stared at you from the court gallery. 

“There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t heard before, Din.” You mumbled.

“I know. I’m sure.” Din nodded once. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to say it.” He rested his forehead against yours. “Ner kar’ta, you did not kill your best friend.” The unshed tears collecting in your eyes spilled over. “Soran did not die by your hands. You were just the last hands to care for her⏤ the last hands to show her love.”

A shaky sob spilled from your lips and Din’s other hand came to rest on the back of your neck. He pulled you into his chest and rested his chin on top of your head. You had heard so many people tell you it wasn’t your fault. Each time was a different variation of the same words. But, nobody had said it quite like Din. Nobody painted your last actions with her in a loving manner. You cried into his chest and Din murmured reassurances in Mando’a⏤ the rumbling of his voice just as much a comfort as the beating of his heart. 

A force tugging at the pants around your ankle made you pull back. Grogu stood by your feet, holding his stuffed frog, and stared up at you with a tilt to his head and concern in his eyes. You let out a shaky, pathetic laugh and let go of Din to scoop the child up. When Grogu was nestled into your chest, Din pulled you back into his. There was a lot of baggage to wade through, and you knew one heartfelt conversation wasn’t going to cure everything. However, in Din’s arms you found peace.

Din Djarin was living in domestic bliss. That was the only way to describe his current state. Nearly two weeks had passed since Grogu was sick and the pirates attacked. Since then, Grogu had been picture perfect in terms of health and the busiest he had been, work wise, was when two pilots got in a fist fight over ship parking in the hangar. At home, things were nearly perfect. A wall had been broken after the discussion about Soran, you seemed more open and free. The job Karga had offered you was put out of mind it seemed, and Din had made it very clear to the High Magistrate that if he bothered you about becoming Nevarro’s physician he’d beat the kriffing hell out of him. 

The only thing that kept his situation from becoming fully perfect was the fact that Din had never been more sexually frustrated in his entire life. He had never felt closer to you emotionally, but physically your relationship hadn’t progressed beyond what happened the morning Karga interrupted the two of you. Din took advantage of the little moments available to him. A caress on your arm as he was passing you in the hall, leaning into your side when the two of you shared a couch playing with Grogu, setting his hands on your hips to peer over your shoulder while you made food. He treasured every moment because it was all he had. Never mind the fact that if he stared at you for too long the urge to rip your clothes off and pick up where left off became overwhelming.

But Din didn’t want to push. Karga bringing up your past had obviously been traumatic, and the absolute last thing he wanted was to pressure you into something you weren’t sure of because you were emotional. In the bathroom with your lips pressed against his every scar you seemed more than eager to reciprocate his desires, but since then he had been the only one to initiate touch. You never turned him down and when his hands brushed against you it brought a smile to your face, but that was all. You didn’t make the effort to touch him first and that was beginning to make Din nervous.

Had he misread your initial interest? Or had things just changed?

Regardless of the reasoning, it left Din beating his frustrations out in the shower⏤ one hand wrapped around his cock in a tight fist pathetically trying to pretend like your hands were on him once more. He felt shame with his actions. You were innocently padding around the house chasing after his son while trying to make breakfast and here he was picturing what it’d feel like to have your pretty lips wrapped around him. It made Din feel downright depraved, but then again he never claimed to be a good man. His breath hitched as the thrusts into his hands grew erratic. His other arm rested on the shower wall, bare forehead pressed against his forearm, as hot water from the shower ran down his back.

“Din!” Your voice came from the other side of the door as your knuckles rapped against the door. Hearing his name from your lips, Din came with a shudder and though he buried his mouth against his forearm to hide his pleasure a moan still slipped out. “Din? Are you alright?”

Maker, you really were going to be the death of him. Din cleared his throat, “I’m⏤ I’m fine. Just... moved wrong.” Din blurted. He had been out during the night taking care of a few reptavians who had left their nest in the lava plains to try and settle in the streets. He handled it without even having to call Mayfeld or Cara for backup, but it’d work fine as an excuse. “A reptavian⏤”

“Did you get hurt?” You asked and the concern in your voice made his chest ache. “I asked earlier and you said you were fine! Do I need to get my kit? They’re venomous creatures, aren’t they?”

Din flipped the shower’s handle from hot to cold and grimaced when the icy water replaced the warmth. It was necessary though. As absolutely pathetic as it was, the sound of your voice was going to make him hard again. He grunted out, “I just pulled my shoulder I think. No wounds for you to cauterize.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d lower myself to using a cautery.” You joked. Din chuckled and ran his hands over his face in a poor attempt to get a hold of himself. “I wanted to let you know breakfast is ready if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks. I’ll be out in a second.” He called back.

The sound of your fading footsteps made him heave a sigh of relief. Din let the ice water run over him for a moment more before shutting it off and reaching for a towel. Dank farrik. Din quickly pulled on his shirt and a pair of sweatpants before using the towel to dry his hair best he could. It’d be nice to dry it entirely before putting his helmet on, but that meant spending more time in the bathroom. Din scratched the scruff at his jawline and his stupid brain wondered if you’d prefer a clean shaven guy. He muttered a string of curses under his breath in annoyance at himself before shoving his helmet onto his head.

When he stepped out, he noticed Grogu waiting for him at the end of the hall in the arch that led into the kitchen. The little boy giggled while bouncing in place. Din tilted his head. “What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into, ad’ika?”

“Where did⏤” Your voice drifted toward him. “Grogu, did you eat your buir’s sandwich??”

Grogu giggled again. Din chuckled and pointed at him, “Come here, you little womp rat.” Grogu squealed in excitement and rushed away. Din chased after his son who ran and jumped to avoid him. You laughed from your spot leaning against the kitchen counter. Din paused as he watched Grogu leap into your arms. He set his hands on his hips, “You think your ma can keep you from me, ad’ika?”

Din took a step around the counter, but stopped again when he noticed you mirrored his step with a smirk⏤ maintaining the same distance between the two of you. He tilted his head, lips curling into a grin under his helmet. You shrugged. “I promised to take care of Grogu and if that means protecting him from a Mandalorian…”

“I can respect that.” Din took another slow step in your direction and you stumbled back. Grogu began to pat on your shoulder as a warning. His son knew that if you really wanted to escape you’d need to start moving right now⏤ not that that would really stop him. “You know, you have a bad habit of challenging Mandalorians.”

The last time you had challenged him, while lying in bed with Grogu, Din ended up on top of you. That was the kind of situation he’d be more than happy to repeat. Grogu whined for you to run and Din found it amusing that his son was aware of any warning sign he might have. You seemed to think you were still in a position of power when the exact opposite was true. 

“Mmm, not Mandalorians. Just you.” You smirked. Din felt feral. Combining the idea of an adrenaline filled hunt and his desire for you was an addicting prospect. He liked it way, way more than he should. “What’re you gonna do about it, Djarin?”

Din slipped his hands into his sweatpants pockets, the picture of casual nonchalance, and grinned in excitement under his helmet. “I can bring you in warm,” He didn't bother hiding the amusement in his voice, “or I can bring you in cold.”

Grogu snickered conspiratorially, and you arched a single eyebrow in challenge. Din needed no further invitation. Quicker than you had probably assumed, he lunged forward and you yelped in surprise followed by a laugh. You ran from him, hurrying around the kitchen island, and Din gave chase. Without his heavy armor and gear, Din was faster than he was out in the field. He could end this chase in a second or two, but where was the fun in that? Din stayed close enough to be a threat, but far enough to allow you to slip away from him consistently. The sound of his deep chuckles mingled with the pitch of Grogu and your laughs. 

You rounded the couch, with the thought that a barrier would keep him from you. It was a fair thought, but Din hurdled over the sofa in one smooth movement and landed in front of you. You cried out in surprise and tried to spin to turn the opposite way. Din was quick to wrap his arms around your middle and lift you up off the ground with ease. He still found it cute that you had worried you’d be too heavy for him. You squirmed in his arms, but he simply tightened his.

Din could tell you about the time he had to trek across a Tatooine desert in his full gear while carrying Grogu and everything he had on a land speeder that had been destroyed in a fight⏤ including all of Boba Fett’s gear. That would come off as bragging though, wouldn’t it? Not that Din didn’t want to brag, but he at least didn’t want to be obvious about it.

“Hey!” You twisted to try and escape his grasp while Grogu leaned over your shoulder and tapped on his helmet while babbling demands between each giggle that left him. To stop your squirming, Din roughly squeezed your sides which caused even louder laughs to leave you. He didn’t know you were ticklish. It had just been a guess. One he found immense pleasure in discovering. “No tickling! That’s not fair!”

“I never claimed to play fair.” Din hummed, nestling his head by yours.

“You’re the marshal. I’m pretty sure there are laws that say I have rights.”

“Hmm, alright.” Din replied. He squeezed you once more, eliciting another startled laugh, before dropping you back to your feet so he could spin you around. Din kept his hands on your hips caging you against his chest. He tilted his head. “Would you like me to bring out a pair of binders?”

“I, uh, I…” You were grasping for words.

“Buir, parjii!” Grogu praised.

Winner. That was a good word to describe him right now. With you and Grogu in his arms, Din felt like he had won the universe. Din took Grogu from your arms and set him on the ground, “Tsikador.” Grogu whined briefly. “Ad’ika.”

Grogu mumbled an affirmative before waddling toward his room. You began to turn to help Grogu get ready for the day, but Din tightened his grip on you. Your attention focused back on him with wide and curious eyes. Din cleared his throat, nervous suddenly, and he nodded. “I wanted to…”

“What is it, Din?”

Before he could lose his nerve, Din took a steadying breath and let his hands leave your hips to settle on his helmet. He wanted you to see his face. All his fears remained. What if he felt even less like himself as he drifted further away from his Creed? What if he was overplaying his hand? What if you meant more to him than he did to you and this just scared you away? What if you didn’t like his appearance? The fears were loud in his mind, but the way he felt about you was so much louder.

Din began to lift when your hands suddenly shot up to cover his⏤ halting his movements. It caught him off guard, as did the panic in your eyes. You shook your head. “Don’t.”

“It’s alright, ner kar’ta.” Din reassured. “I’m okay with this. I want this.”

He tried once more, but your hands tugged his helmet back in place. You swallowed nervously. “I…” Realization dawned on him then. It wasn’t that you were concerned for him. You didn’t want this. Din felt his heart plummet in his chest. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”

Your voice was soft and quiet, yet the words might as well have been screamed in his face with the way he was feeling⏤ like all the air had been pulled out of the room and he was suffocating. Din let his hands fall and he took a step back. One foot between the two of you might as well have felt like miles. Suddenly, new fears ran amok in his mind fueling his anxiety. Had he tricked himself into seeing something that wasn’t there? Ever since that day, you hadn’t initiated or returned any of his advances. Maker, had he been making you uncomfortable? Was he just some sleemo boss harassing you and because of his position you felt you couldn’t tell him to stop? Din had never hated himself more. He knew he was terrible at relationships and forming connections, but this was worse than he could’ve kriffing imagined.

“I should help Grogu. I promised him I’d take him to the park this morning.” You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly. “You should get some sleep. You were out all night⏤ I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“Right.” Din mumbled. You offered him a small, polite smile and hurried away. He forced himself to wander to the kitchen island where the food you made for breakfast, the items Grogu hadn’t scarfed down, lay waiting. Din found he didn’t have much of an appetite right now.

Dank farrik.

Dank farrik.

You wanted to punch yourself in the face. Was that  something physically possible? Maybe you’d ask Nima to do it for you. If you told her the mistake you made, Maker knows she’d be tempted anyway. Din wanted to show you his face. Din trusted you enough that he wanted to take his helmet off and reveal his face, and like the Maker damned idiot you were, you said no. Even with the helmet on, you could tell he was hurt. It radiated off him and it was why you had to rush away from him. 

Dank farrik, you were so stupid.

You had panicked. The way Din made you feel in such a short amount of time was terrifying. It wasn’t until Karga shed light on your past that you realized just how much he made you feel. Din brought you a comfort you didn’t know you’d be able to experience. The longer you thought about it the more scared you became⏤ the more worried. You started working for Din a few months ago. That was it. Not even half a year yet. You barely knew Din, and Din barely knew you. Sure, he knew a bit more about you now thanks to Karga, but that was just the surface. 

Your greatest fear was that you were taking advantage of Din. One of the things you did know about him was how protective he was. He showcased it with everyone in his life. The thought that Din was just growing attached to you because you needed comfort⏤ needed protecting⏤ was hardly ideal. Add that to the fact that you were his son’s caretaker. You just didn’t want Din to feel obligated to you in any way. 

These were the thoughts and regrets that plagued you as you sat on a park bench watching Grogu play with a few of the other kids on the playground. You were mildly tempted to bury yourself alive in the sandbox as repentance for the morning. That’d be easier than puzzling out your twisted heart.

“You look like you’re having a hell of a morning.” 

You turned to see Jaen standing at the end of the bench. The young woman had a daughter she had adopted who shared a class with Grogu. Where Jaen had dark skin with short wavy hair, her daughter, Elodie, was a light skinned toddler with blonde curls and bright green eyes. You had grown close with Jaen as Grogu grew close to Elodie. In fact, you could see the little girl was now sitting in the sand with Grogu as they played.

“It went from amazing to bad, shockingly fast.” You admitted. “And it was all my fault.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Jaen sat down beside you, crossing her legs.

You sighed. “It’s Mando. I messed up this morning.”

“You guys have a fight or something?”

You began to explain your morning in vague details. Just enough for Jaen to understand the depth in which you had fucked up. The young woman listened intently and nodded along. “I shouldn’t have panicked like I did. It’s just⏤” You threw your hands up frustrated. “He once told me that the only people who would get to see his face are his children, like Grogu, and his wife. His wife. What does that mean that he wants to show me his face? And⏤And, what if he shows me his face and then regrets it? He’d be choosing me over his Creed in that moment, and if I don’t live up to his expectations then he’s gonna be disappointed and I’m just going to be the woman who made him break his Creed. Again.”

Jaen nodded a few times in thought, humming to herself, then narrowed her eyes at you, “You’re already his wife though, aren’t you?”

“What??” You shook your head.

“I thought you and the Marshal were married and Grogu was your kid.” Jaen replied. “The two of you are always together, you live in the same house, I just assumed…”

“No. No, no. I am not his wife. I’m his son’s nanny.”

Jaen paused a beat then tilted her head. “Are you sure?”

“Well, last time I checked at least.” You scoffed. Jaen’s husband, Dayen, walked up with three cups of caf. He handed the first cup to Jaen then took the one stacked on his other to hand to you. Dayen looked like he could actually be Elodie’s father⏤ his blond hair was a similar shade and his skin was only a bit darker due to working in the sun. “Thank you so much. I really needed this.”

Dayen grinned and Jaen scooted closer to you so he could sit at the end of the bench by her. “No problem, Soran.” After having your talk with Din, it almost felt odd to hear people call you by that name. Something had changed. You had initially taken her name out of guilt⏤ a way to keep her name alive. Now it felt… It felt like it didn’t fit anymore. “You were looking rough. No offense.”

“Oh!” Jaen lightly tapped his chest with the back of her hand. “You’re not gonna believe this. Soran and Mando aren’t together.”

“Yeah, they are.” He argued. “They’re married.” Jaen shook her head and he leaned forward to narrow his eyes at you in confusion. “You’re married, aren’t you?”

You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Apparently, you guys know something I don’t.”

Jaen shifted so her back was to her husband and she could face you. “Alright. So what are you gonna do then?”

“Well,” You slumped in your seat and took a big sip of your caf before speaking again, “I was thinking about burying myself alive in the sandbox before you guys got here.”

“So, we got here in the nick of time, then?” Dayen chuckled.

Jaen shook her head. “Okay, walk me through exactly what happened again. I stopped listening out of shock when I realized the two of you weren’t married.”

You let out a small laugh followed by another sip of caf. Just as you did before, you talked about how your morning went and then you dove into the way it made you feel. This time you couldn’t bite back the list of fears that plagued you. When you finished, Jaen and Dayen were both staring at you with wide eyes.

“I overshared, didn’t I?” You sighed.

“Not an overshare.” Jaen replied. “Just a lot. You have a lot of feelings.”

You buried your face in one hand and groaned. Wasn’t that the epitome of everything that was wrong? Your friend reached out to set her hand on your shoulder and you let your own hand fall away to meet her gaze. Jaen chuckled. “You listed a lot of things you’re worried about, but something tells me that deep down it’s only one that’s holding you back. Everything else is just an add-on excuse.” She shrugged. “You have to figure out what that one thing is and address it. Otherwise, you’re always gonna freeze up.”

“Huh.” You mumbled in thought.

Dayen gave you a thumbs up. “She knows what she’s talking about. Usually.”

“Usually??” Jaen spun back around to glare at him.

“Always. I said, always.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “You’re so pretty.”

“Uh huh.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the bond between the two of them. It made you think of Din. Even now, unsure and confused and panicked, seeing a moment like this he was the first to come to mind. You wanted that. You wanted to sit on a park bench with him, watching Grogu play, as your fingers tangled with his. The thought overwhelmed you. Why was it so easy for you to feel this way right now, but panic the way you did when Din offered you the first step toward this?

You took another long sip of caf as your brain tried to untangle itself. Grogu and Elodie were in the process of building a sand castle with two other kids. In the distance, you heard the squealing of metal on metal followed by the loud crash of an impact. You stiffened in your seat, everyone in the park following suit, when the sound of a woman screaming filled the air. You recognized that sound. 

“Watch Grogu.” You said as you came to stand. The cup of caf fell to the ground and it spilled as the lid popped off. “Jaen please⏤”

“We will, but⏤” Jaen stood. Dayen was already running to the sand box to grab both children. You took off running as well, but your direction was toward the scream. “Soran! Soran, what are you doing!?”

Faintly, you heard Grogu calling out for you, but you couldn’t stop. You knew Grogu was safe with Jaen and Dayen. That was enough comfort to keep you from hesitating in your forward motion. You sprinted down the street, rushing past people, until you could see Peli’s garage. It wasn’t far from the park. A crowd had formed around the outside of it. 

“Move!” You barked and pushed through the people. They didn’t move quick enough for your liking so you resorted to shoving them. “Get out of my way!” 

When you entered the garage, you could see mechanics standing near the back where something was smoking. You were close enough to hear hysterical sobbing⏤ the voice much too familiar for comfort. When you were kids, Nima had fallen out of a tree and broke her leg. The sound of her scream had been carved into your very being. It was something you’d recognize anywhere. 

The mechanics dove out of your way. A land speeder had careened into the all, cratering the brick it slammed into, and Nima’s right arm was pinned somewhere between the metal and rubble. Peli knelt by her side, yelling into a communicator. There was a flash of panic, it mingled with fear, but it didn’t last nearly as long as you thought it would. You snapped into the role of a healer just like you used to.

“Peli, I need your first aid kit. Get the med droid here as well.” You commanded. Peli rushed away and you slid to Nima’s side. You cupped Nima’s face, strained with pain and streaked with tears and oil, in an attempt to get her attention on you. “Nima. Nima, it’s me. I need you to look at me, hon.” Nima’s wide eyes finally landed on you. “There we go.” She called out your name⏤ your real name⏤ and you nodded. “That’s right. I need you to take some deep breaths with me.”

“It⏤It hurts. Maker, I⏤I⏤ It fucking hurts!” Nima sobbed, her ragged breaths worsened.

“I know, I know.” You set your hand on your chest in hopes the weight of your hand would anchor her. “Breathe. Slow breaths. Match mine, hon. Come on.”

Nima was finally able to listen to your commands, and while she continued you let your eyes dart to where her arm disappeared into the mess of metal. She was pinned below the elbow⏤ her right arm twisted and mangled. Magenta colored blood was dripping onto the garage floor under her at an alarming rate.

You glanced around the crowd until your eyes landed on a mechanic wearing a normal belt. “Here! Now!” He jumped in alarm and rushed forward. You pulled your hand away from Nima, she sobbed at the loss of touch, and you ripped the belt off him before shoving him back. “This is gonna hurt. Stay with me. Talk to me.”

As you began to create a tourniquet, Nima screamed bloody murder. You softly reassured her while keeping your hands firm and confident in your movements. You pushed her to start talking again and she began to stumble over her words.

“I messed up⏤ I⏤ I messed up.” Nima gasped. Peli finally arrived with the first aid kit and she reassured you that the droid was on his way. After being repaired, it was the only source of medical care on this rock. Other than you. “I tried⏤ I tried to stop it. I should’ve let go. I should’ve let go. My arm. My arm⏤ My arm⏤”

“Hush, girl!” Peli scolded. “Don’t think about that. Walk me through a strip down of an engine. The Razor Crest’s engine. How’re we gonna fix that? From the top!”

You were thankful for Peli’s intrusion. While she listened to Nima struggle through explaining the mechanical work, you focused on the injury. First things first, you needed to get the bike off her. The longer she was pinned the worse it would be when she was finally released. Her bone and muscle were crushed and it would end up unbalancing the electrolytes in her blood once released. 

“Hey, all of you. Grab the bike. Pull on my mark.” You yelled. The mechanics rushed to help and when they seemed to have a solid grip you checked to make sure the tourniquet was firmly in place. Rather than give her warning, you gave the mark for the mechanics to pull back. The land speeder slid out of the wall in a Maker awful sound as the torn metal scratched against the garage floor, but you could barely hear that over Nima’s horrific screams of pain. Her voice was hoarse and raw. You and Peli pulled her away from the pool of blood. As you dragged her, she passed out⏤ her head lolling to her chest. You laid her on her back and examined her arm. It was barely recognizable. Her wrist was bent at an odd angle, fingers all broken, and blood seeped out of her torn flesh and muscle. 

The worst sense of realization washed over you.

Nima was going to lose her lower arm if she didn’t get treated right now. You lifted your communicator up to speak into it and noticed then that Nima’s blood was splattered up your own arms. Fingers stained magenta. Ignoring it, you typed in the number for the clinic. Thankfully, the voice you wanted to hear answered.

“Aayla?” You cried.

“Oh, Doc! I just sent the med droid your way. Peli called us. What⏤”

“I need you to get the bacta tank up and running.”

“The bacta⏤ It hasn’t been used in months though.”

“I’ll walk you through resetting it. Get there now.” You said. The sound of her quick, muffled movements filled the air and when she said she was there you began to give her instructions. Maker, when was the last time you worked out the measurements of a bacta tank? As you instructed, you used the tools in the first aid kit to wrap soaked, sterile gauze around her arm to protect the injury. You did the mental math quickly and listed off the numbers for Aayla to use. “Did that work? Describe it to me.”

“Uh, something is happening. The screen says processing and it’s making some kind of whining noise.”

It was working. “Good. I’ll be there soon.”

“Move it!” A familiar voice shouted. You glanced over your shoulder to see Mayfeld approaching with the med droid by his side. His eyes landed on you, then Nima, then back to you in shock. “Soran?? What the kriff is going on?! What happ⏤”

“Later, Mayfeld.” You pushed to stand. “She needs to be at the clinic right now.”

He only hesitated a second more before he grabbed the floating stretcher that the med droid had brought with it. The med droid drifted closer and you could tell he was scanning Nima’s prone body. He chirped out. “Patient’s vitals are stable. However, injury to right lower arm is extensive. Amputation will be necessary.”

“She’s going into a bacta tank. She’ll be fine as long as we get her in it in the next few minutes. Then I can monitor and assess from there.” You argued. 

You and Peli bent over to help Mayfeld scoop Nima up and get her onto the stretcher without jostling her too much. The droid hummed in casual disagreement. “I am not authorized to establish or monitor a bacta tank. That is limited to a program beyond myself and⏤”

“I’m a physician! License code 32RJ90012.” You snapped, ignoring the weight of eyes on you. “You listen to me.”

The droid nodded. “Yes, Doctor.” 

“Now, let’s go.” You hurried out of the garage as Mayfeld kept pace with you pushing Nima on the stretcher. You were going to save Nima and her arm. There was no room for hesitation, no room for self-doubt, and no room for error.

Din Djarin was going to commit homicide this morning. Already, he was over today after his blunder with you. After you had left with Grogu he had fallen into bed in hopes that he could sleep away his regret and disappointment. Only a few hours had passed when he was awoken by a banging on his front door. It wasn’t that he needed more sleep, he was well acquainted with little to no sleep, it was the principle of the thing. Din didn’t want to be disturbed and whoever was pounding their fist on his door repeatedly was going to be shot and left for dead on his porch.

After pulling on his armor, he stormed to the front of his house and ripped the door open. Greef Karga stood there with a casual look of nonchalance on his features. Karga gave him a smile in greeting and Din reminded himself that it would be a bad look for the Marshal of Nevarro to shoot the High Magistrate dead. If he did, the city might expect him to rise in the ranks and Din would rather die himself than lead this city.

“You’re not allowed to knock on my door anymore, Karga.” Din barked in irritation.

Karga’s eyes widened in surprise. “Mando. You’re in a rather foul mood. Don’t tell me I interrupted you again.” Din’s hand clenched on the door frame. People always assumed he was a patient man when quite the opposite was true. Din was quick to anger, quick to any emotion really, but the beskar he wore acted as a mask he could hide behind and he had grown very, very good at controlling himself. The bad news with that was that people overestimated how far they could push him. Karga swept past him into the house and Din slammed the door shut. Karga scoffed, “Really, Mando. No need to be so cross. I did exactly as you asked and stayed far away from the Doctor Nanny, as promised.”

“Then why the kriff are you here?” Din spat. If Karga had come to bother you about a job again his self-control would shatter to pieces. 

“I’m here for business with you, old friend.” Din simply crossed his arms at Karga’s words. The man sighed and pulled a puck from his robe pocket. “We have eyes on Daelar.”

Din caught the puck when it was tossed to him and activated it. “Where is he?”

“Hiding out even further in the Outer Rim, if you can believe in.” Karga replied. “A little out of the way, but I got eyes all over. He didn’t stand a chance.”

Din rolled the idea around in his head. Now that would be quite the way to work out his anger and frustration. Daelar signed his death certificate the moment he abandoned you and Grogu. Maker knows Din had killed for less in the past. A good man would let that rage go. A good man would turn Daelar into the authorities and get his license taken away. A good man wouldn’t commit to murder quite so quickly. But, as it had already been established, he was not a good man.

“What’re you planning on doing to him?” Karga questioned. Din didn’t respond. He had no reason to and the less people knew the better. When the High Magistrate realized he was not going to receive an answer he huffed. “I thought finding this news out would put you in a better mood. Where’s my little buddy? He’ll be happy to see me. He napping?”

“He’s at the park.” Din replied.

Karga’s eyes widened. “You’re off so she should be off as well, shouldn’t she? You do give her time off, don’t you?”

Din had a smartass remark hanging from his lips, but he swallowed it as the thought occurred to him. He always assumed you took care of Grogu on Saturdays as well because of a desire to be with the child, but he had never outright asked you. Most of his days off, all three of you would end up at the park or spending time at home. Had you experienced a proper day off yet? Did you feel obligated to continue caring for Grogu because he hadn’t specified that it wasn’t your responsibility on his days off? Din just enjoyed spending time with you and loved having the two people he cared for most in this galaxy within his reach on his day off. After what happened this morning, Din was drowning in doubt. When you dragged the edge of his helmet back down over his head you might as well have shoved his head underwater. 

The ringing of a communicator snapped Din out of the haze he had fallen into and he lifted his vambrace, but it was Karga who was receiving a message. He watched curiously as Karga’s face fell while reading. Din stiffened, “What’s going on?”

“We have to get to the clinic now.” Karga marched for the door and Din didn’t hesitate to follow. “Nima was injured.”

It didn’t take the two of them very long to make it into the clinic and the first person Din spotted was Peli standing by the front desk arguing with the medical tech he had met before. Aayla was her name? Peli slammed a hand down on the front desk’s counter.

“She’s my employee, why can’t I kriffing go and see her!?”

“The patient is currently in a bacta tank and per physician orders⏤”

“I don’t give a damn⏤”

“Peli.” Din called out. The curly haired woman turned around and her face was drawn in lines of frustration and panic. Karga drifted away when he spotted Mayfeld talking to a few mechanics off to the side. “Talk to me.”

Peli shook her head. “Nima basically lost her kriffing arm and this tail head won’t let me through!”

Din held his hands out in a calming motion and nodded his head reassuringly. “I’m sure there’s a reason you can’t go back yet. They’re probably limiting visitors for the time being.” He wondered if you were back there with Nima. Did you know what had happened? Maybe he needed to call you. “I’ll step back⏤”

“The doc said nobody is allowed back yet, Marshal.” Aayla said.

Peli motioned to the Twi’lek as if to say ‘see’, and Din sighed. The older mechanic shoved him all of a sudden and Din was alarmed to be at the receiving end of her anger. “Go tell your nanny to let us back right now or so help me⏤”

“Wait, what?” He blurted.

“Who the kriff do you think is back there right now?? It sure as hell ain’t the med droid!”

You had… Dank farrik. Worry and concern mingled in his chest in an uncomfortable way. Awkwardness born from this morning aside, that didn’t stop how he felt. It didn’t stop him from caring. He remembered how broken you had been after Grogu. He turned back to the desk to see that Aayla had disappeared. 

Din shook his head. “What happened??”

“Land speeder malfunctioned. Shot off like a rocket. Nima tried to stop it by grabbing onto the handlebars to hit the brake, but it just dragged her along.” Peli crossed her arms with a frown. “Pinned her to the wall.” Din grimaced. Maker, that was bad. He didn’t spend much time with Nima anymore, he used to see her often when he would go to pick up Grogu from Peli, but he hoped the young mechanic was alright. “Your girl sprinted in out of nowhere and just took charge. She said she was a doctor. That true??”

Din hesitated before coming up with an answer. It wasn’t his place to admit⏤ even if you had already kind of blurted it out. Aayla’s voice chirped out as she returned and she shot him a small smile. “Doc says you can come back, Marshal.”

Peli grumbled under her breath and Din paused long enough to squeeze the woman’s shoulder reassuringly before rushing back. The first room he entered from the doors had been the one Grogu was in when he was here, but now it was empty. Against the back wall, he could see a door cracked open. Din quickly crossed the room and stuck his head into the small space.

Nima was floating in a bacta tank, peaceful and stable, while you sat cross legged on a stool with your forehead leaning against the tank’s glass. At his entrance, you lifted your gaze and he could see your brow creased with worry. Briefly, his anxiety held him back. He couldn’t rid himself of the way you looked at him when you stopped him from lifting his helmet this morning. Din shoved that to the back of his mind. This wasn’t about him. His feelings and desires did not matter a bit right now.

Din shut the door behind him as he drew closer and he dropped to one knee to kneel in beside you. You shifted on the stool so you faced him. He nodded, “How is she?”

“She’s gonna be alright.” You shrugged. “Her lower arm was wrecked, but I think we got her here in time. It’ll be a little while before I see if the bacta tank is going to heal her arm.” You wrung your hands together and Din could see dried flecks of magenta blood against your skin. It was only then that he noticed you had changed out of your clothes into a pair of random scrubs. “I had to set her arm and I did my best, but it was crushed to pieces. I don’t know if it’ll heal right.”

“I’m sure you did fine.” He said softly. Din had the urge to pull you into his arms, offer comfort, but he resisted. Instead, he wrapped his hands around the bar between the stool’s legs by your feet.

“How did you know to come?”

“Karga paid me a visit. Mayfeld must have called him to notify him about the injury.”

“Oh.”

Din briefly glanced around, “Where is⏤”

“Jaen and Dayen have Grogu. He was playing at the park with Elodie when…” Your voice trailed off as you swallowed hard. Din recognized those names and knew his son was in good hands for the time being. You shrugged. “I already called them and they said they’d bring him here after getting the kids lunch.”

Din’s fists tightened around the stool. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Ner kar’ta.” Din pressed. The name felt right. Even if you wanted nothing to do with him it didn’t alter the change you made to his heart. You had taken it, like a thief in the night, and no circumstance would ever bring Din to try and take that back. It belonged to you⏤ It would always belong to you.

You rubbed your face and forced a smile. “I’m really not that bad. Not like last time. I’m worried about Nima because I love her, but…” You sighed. “If I hadn’t been there. It would’ve been awful. The med droid can’t operate a bacta tank.” Din nodded but didn’t speak. He could see you had more to say. “I didn’t even think of Soran while I…”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Din asked.

“Yeah. It made me remember why I went into medicine in the first place. I wanted to save people. Make a difference in the world around me.” You said. Din held back the words that came to mind. You already made a difference in the world. Your existence alone bettered the world around you⏤ bettered the lives of the people you knew. “I realized something else too.” Din waited. Your hand lifted to rub the scar over your collarbone. “I come up with all these excuses to try and avoid the real problem. I don’t want to face my fear alone so I surrounded myself in dozens of different problems as a distraction to myself. I was never running from Medicine. I was never running from myself, Din.”

“What were you running from, ner kar’ta?” His question came out in a soft whisper.

For a moment, the only sound came from the bubbling of the bacta tank. You wrung your hands once more, nervously, and Din had to once again resist the urge to tangle his fingers with yours. Give you something to hold onto. “Kurt. I was running from Kurt.” He knew the name. In your file, the name of the man who brought you to court to try and take away your license had been Kurt. Din made the connection when your hand lifted again to touch the scar. “He tried to kill me.”

If Din thought he had been angry before, he was wrong. He could feel his blood boiling within his beskar armor. The thought of someone even laying their hands on you filled him with more rage than he should be allowed to feel, but the fact that there was a person out in the galaxy who had actively tried to kill you⏤ to take you out of this world⏤ made his teeth clench. His back molars threatened to crack with how tense his jaw had grown.

“You don’t have to be angry about it.” You murmured. People always confused his measured anger for patience, but not you. You always seemed to know how he felt under the helmet regardless of how quiet he kept himself. “He’s on trial right now for it. I don’t know the details. Nima actually knows more because I don’t like keeping up with it and she says someone has to.” You shrugged. “When he was… hurting me,” Din sucked in a sharp breath to try and maintain some semblance of control, “He said all this terrible stuff. How it was my fault, and I deserved to die because of it. He was the reason I blamed myself for so long. I think a part of me still does.”

“That wasn’t⏤”

“I know.” You chuckled. “I’m doing so much better since we spoke, you did so much for me, but some days are better than others. I think it’ll always be that way. One day I’ll wake up and I‘ll understand it was out of my hands, and on some other day I’ll wake up and blame myself. I don’t think there’s a cure for that.”

Despite talking about your pained past, you wore a small smile on your face and Din had never felt such pride at seeing a smile. Maker, you were strong. You were his heart, and you were so kriffing strong. He wanted to put it into words and express that to you, but he didn’t know how. Dank farrik. Din relied so much on action and not being able to touch you, reassure you, share his pride in you, left him feeling like he had lost one of his senses entirely. 

“And, Din, about this morning,” Your smile faltered and Din stiffened, “I’m so sorry⏤”

“No. Don’t.” Din blurted and shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize. I do. I shouldn’t have pressured you into anything⏤ I should have asked before⏤”

You reached out and set a hand on his shoulder, close to his neck, and he could feel the weight of you through his cloak and flight suit. “Din, you did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. I panicked because…” You squeezed his shoulder. “I did the same thing again. Came up with a bunch of issues and doubts because I was scared to admit what the real problem was.” Din’s mouth grew dry and it felt like his heart was going to literally beat out of his chest. He didn’t know where this was going, he didn’t know how he was supposed to feel, but the flicker of hope was a dangerous thing. Din didn’t think he’d survive extinguishing twice. Finally, you spoke, “I’m scared⏤ terrified⏤ that I’ll become a burden and disappointment to you.”

Din blinked in shock. Of all the words that existed in Basic that you could string together, he never expected that sentence. A burden? A disappointment?? Never. You could never be either. He was at a loss for words. How could he show you how he felt? How could he make you understand what you meant to him?

“I know right now you consider yourself an Apostate.” You said. He noticed the way you stressed the word ‘you’. As if trying to make it clear that it was not the same belief you held. “So, maybe it makes showing your face easier, but I⏤ I don’t want to push you further from your Creed. I know how much it means to you, how important it is, and I would hate myself if I became a barrier between you and it.”

“Ner kar’ta⏤”

“And what if we drift apart? I’d just be the woman who took advantage of a moment⏤ who accepted something that I wasn’t sure you were even ready to give.”

Din shook his head. “That isn’t the case. I am ready. I⏤ I care for you.” Maker, why was it so hard to speak? “This wouldn’t become something I regret. You could never be something I regret.”

You startled him by sliding off the stool forcing his hands away from the bar. You knelt in front of him and lifted your hands up to his neck. Your thumb brushed against the skin right under his helmet where his shirt didn’t quite reach. Din sucked in a breath at the contact. It meant more because it was you who initiated it.

“Your face isn’t a factor in what I think of you.” You said firmly. “What you look like under there, it will never change how I see you. I already know the kind of man you are. When I⏤ If I get to see your face…” Din noticed the slip up. The eventuality. He almost wanted to correct you. There was no ‘if’ about this. “I don’t want it to go against your Creed. I don’t want it to be a sin that requires redeeming.”

If Din wasn’t being held up by his heavy, beskar armor he was sure he would’ve melted into your arms. For the first time in a long time, he was relieved he wore a helmet because he didn’t want you to see the way his eyes began to water. Din always assumed that unless he found someone within the covert, he would have to choose between love and his Creed. He had resolved himself to that fact and understood that meant he might never have love.

Meeting you was the first time since Grogu that he was willing to show his face. You were, without a doubt, the first woman he had met who tempted him to cast aside his Creed⏤ a feat he didn’t think would ever be possible. Once he fell into your orbit, he was caught and there was nothing that would pull him away from you. Din was sure even you weren’t aware of the power you held over him. He would go to war with his bare hands if you commanded it. He would cross the galaxy ten times over if it meant bringing you any shred of happiness. But, instead of making him choose a part of himself, you accepted every bit of him. You understood the respect he had for his Creed and you would not force him to walk away from it. More than just that, you stopped him from making the decision he thought he had to make. You made him realize that he shouldn’t have to sacrifice a part of himself to deserve love.

“Can I touch you, ner kar’ta?” Din asked in a voice too quiet and hoarse for his liking.

“You never have to ask, Din.” You replied. 

Din collapsed into you. He pressed his head against your chest and wrapped his arms around you. When your own arms came to cradle him, your chin resting on the top of his helmet, Din let out a shuddering breath. Your hand held the back of his neck, finding that small sliver of skin once more, and he felt your fingers brush against the hair that sat at the nape of his neck. Din could’ve stayed like this forever, but too soon you began to pull away.

“Will you stay with me?” You asked. “It’ll be an hour or so until I’m able to see what direction Nima’s condition is moving in, and I don’t want to leave her side.”

Din’s throat was still tight, unshed tears lining his lashes, and he didn’t trust his voice. He dragged himself a few feet away to lean against the wall and held a hand out to you. He could see your shoulders sag in relief, an invisible weight being lifted, and you crawled toward him. Rather than settling next to him, you placed yourself between his legs and leaned back against his chest. You lightly grasped his arms to pull around you in a hold and you didn’t need to tell him to keep his grip there. Din squeezed around your waist while you held onto his arm. Your fingers tracing the lines of his vambrace. A comfortable silence surrounded the both of you and Din took in a steadying breath. 

This wasn’t a crush or infatuation. This was something special. A part of him always knew, but he had never felt more confirmation of that then he did right now. This was unique and he had to do this the right way. Din wanted to do right by you, provide for you, and in order to properly court you like a Mandalorian should he’d need to find his Creed once more.

Din needed to find redemption.

He needed to go to Mandalore.

mando’a translations

Epar : Eat Buir : Father Parjii : Winner Tsikador : get ready Ad’ika: little one Ner kar’ta : my heart

A/N: This is the first chapter that feels like a real chapter to me. I love all the other ones, don’t get me wrong, but if you know me from AO3 at all you know I like to pick a theme and then explore that theme in a single chapter which makes my chapters unusually long. I got to do that with this one and it makes me so so happy. Hopefully it made y’all happy too🥰

@aheadfullofsteverogers​ @yyiikes​ @kneelforloki​ @c-ms1ut​ @sgt-morgan​ @luthienaliceisilra​ @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay​ @coldlamaspersonspy​ @dilfsaremyfavourite​ @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover​ @teawrites01​ @emily-roberts​ @djarinxore​ @impala1967666​ @shelbyteller @faithrenner​ @dindjarindude​ @dankfarrick29​ @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo​ @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace​ @onceinamando​ @catharinaroxastova​ @uwu-i-purple-you​ @modiddys-blog​ @harriedandharassed​ @stagerightlauren​

[slickfordain]

Valentine’s Day🍓🎀

Gojoxreader, Dainsleifxreader

I did say in my rules I was uncomfortable sharing my F/O which Dainsleif is part of it, but it’s for myself and my bestie and it’s Valentine’s Day… So after this, I won’t write Dainsleif for anyone but myself.🎀

♡ Gojo would in no doubt be the goofiest motherfucker you’ve ever been on a date with, but you love it so much💕

♡ Silliest bitch, he would love to put stickers on your face when it’s Valentine’s Day. Usually goes by putting random heart stickers, and maybe some glitter to make your face glow up.

♡ Man doesn’t even care nor does he show shame, he will use Nanami as a wallet, to afford the richest restaurant in the world. (He’s literally rich but man’s doesn’t wanna waste it for some reason)

♡ He’s trying his best,, ૮꒰◞ ⸝⸝ ◟꒱ა Because he’s scared he won’t be able to see you tomorrow evening when his work starts again, and having to go on missions.

♡ When treating you to the restaurant, you either rant about your family— or you rant about how you just feel like you’re a burden to all your friends, and Gojo would listen because… Well, he does somewhat relate to you. After all, losing friends and having issues with family was something he saw in himself.

♡ Later on would just take you back home after giving you a small cute date outside<3 because you don’t like being outside too much so Gojo takes you back home

♡ Either makes you laugh your ass off, or tease you to no ends when he wears your skirt. (It’s hurting his waist BUT HE WANTS YOUR CUTE LAUGH AND SMILE:(((( give him it) Your skirts may be tiny!! But HE WILL MAKE YOU LAUGH T’ILL YOUR RIBS HURT!!

♡ Takes the ugliest picture of you later and you whine and complain, only for him to keep it because now it’s his favorite. Silly you, Gojo doesn’t SEE the ugly in you, there’s only ✨beauty✨

♡ When cuddling, I can honestly see Gojo accidentally pushing you off 😭 like, off the bed. When he does, man’s will PANIC and apologize when you puff your cheeks and give him the silent treatment— please talk to him he doesn’t wanna live without you-

♡ Beware, he’s like a cat, so if you keep continuing your silent treatment he WILL lick your damn cheek or kiss your neck so sweetly. Mans wants your attention, GIVE HIM ATTENTION!! … Please??? ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა

♡ Man’s is loyal AF, he texts you each 10 seconds when it’s Valentine’s Day…. Or 1 second. Doesn’t matter, it’s Valentine’s Day and Dainsleif knows how much it means to you.

♡ Kisses you so sweetly and lovingly, man takes his time and does whatever is comfortable with you. You wanna go out to see the damn fishies in the fucking aquarium? Dainsleif rn: 💳💳💳💳💳💥💥💥💥💥

♡ You two would gaze at Jellyfishes together<3 because it’s peaceful and calm in the aquarium, which fits perfectly for you both since you two are introverts, and quiet. You two don’t really have to talk much, and only text each other because it’s comfortable that way than using your mouth.

♡ If Dainsleif sees a cute fishy-styled outfit that fits your aesthetic, mans buys it because hhhhhhhhhhh ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა HE LOVES YOU SO MUCH😞😞😞 You’re so cute when you get excited and all that shit.

♡ If you get anxiety and anxious because there’s too many people who later on goes to the question, Dainsleif takes you home immediately— because why would he let you suffer in the crowd? Mans is suffering with you man, you anxious = he is anxious too.

♡ I don’t know why but, the thoughts of you painting Dainsleif’s nails dark blue while he paints yours your favorite color— to match and then listen to slowed songs💕 It’s just a comforting night with just you two

♡ It’s raining, storming maybe, you both are cozy in bed together with blankets and pillows— this is the fucking life. You are living to the fullest with yourself, and you love it because Dainsleif will decorate with you too. He’s so loyal…. He just wants you happy.

♡ You two ended up doing coquette aesthetic decorating in your house, matching it with Dainsleif’s blue-ish aesthetics, baby blue in fact.<3

♡ Eating strawberries together and then watch Ghibli movies the whole day!! Maybe even you spamming him reels of cute cat videos where it’s either about the partner love situation, or just “me n u”. He loves it all. Because it shows you love him.

[harryhoney-bee]

Recently I've been dealing with a lot of stress and anxiety. I was wondering if you could write something about what Harry would do to calm you down.

Peace

Summary: Y/n has bad anxiety, but knows Harry is always there for her

Warnings: mentions os anxiety

Word count: less than 1k

I literally do not know how to write anymore it's been 2 years so im sorry for any mistakes

..

He knew something was wrong the moment he stepped foot into their shared flat. Y/N was usually right by the door whenever she heard him coming from the hallway, but the only creature who greeted him as Harry entered their home was Chimichurri, the old and - kinda ugly - cat Y/N had adopted when discovered it was the smallest one in the litter.

The cat rubbed its tail against Harry’s ley, which was covered by the heavy snow pants the man was wearing. He had just come back from a long day at the studio and all he wanted was to cuddle with his wife. 

Wife!

They got married a few months ago. It was a small ceremony, away from the public. Most people were even surprised it had happened so fast… They had been dating only a year before Harry put a rock - a rather big one- on Y/N’s finger. But what could they do? 

When you know, you know.

Harry bent down, just enough to scratch the poor cat's ear. “Hey Chimi, where’s your mom, huh? She's sleeping?” Cat waited a few seconds as if the cat was going to respond. “I told you, when I’m gone you are the one responsible for keeping her well.” 

The cat meowed in response, following Harry to the kitchen, where the purr ball knew he was going to get some treats. Harry opened the cabinet, took a package of Whiskas, and poured it into Chimichurri’s bowl. “Now you be a good boy and stay here while I go looking for mum, alright?”

Harry gave the cat a last glance before heading to their bed, where he expected to find his love. He could hear the faint sound of the TV on, and as he got closer he could identify the voices, it was Amy and Jake from Brooklyn 99. 

He sighed. This was a bad sign, Y/N only watched the Tv show if she was sad.

Waiting for the worst, Harry opened the door, finding Y/N wrapped around blanks, an impassive expression on her face. She didn’t hear him as he got closer to her. “Hey beauty,” Harry kissed her cheeks, smiling as the girl looked up to him, cracking a small smile. 

“I thought you were coming home later today,” Y/N whispered, feeling the prickling of his beard on her skin.

“Nah, couldn’t look at Mitch’s face anymore,” Harry joked. He carefully held her chin, making the girl while caressing her cheekbone with his thumb. “What happened, what got you down?”

Y/N's face initially showed surprise; she thought she had concealed at least a bit of her mental state, but she clearly forgot how well Harry could read her. She got closer to Harry, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him down. The couple laid on the bed, Y/N’s cheeks pressed to Harry's heart, hearing it beat. “I’m not well, H.”

‘I know you aren't, angel,” He turned his face down, looking at her eyes. “Tell me what it is and I’ll fix it, you know I will.! 

“I don’t think you can this time,” she whispered

Y/N battled with anxiety for a long time, something she would get so caught up in her head and now one could take her away from her thoughts. Harry was aware that the only person who could get Y/N better was herself, but he also knew how important his help was.

“Did you schedule with Marcia yet?” Harry asked. 

“No, could you? Please?” she asked with a small voice.

“Of course, love.” Marcia was Y/N’s therapist, it’s been some weeks since Y/N last saw her for an appointment, and it was time for another. Harry quickly got his phone, messaging Marcia’s receptionist. The room was quiet, only the sounds of Harry’s phone could be heard.

“Done,” he said, kissing Y/N lightly on the lips. “Wanna talk about it?” 

She took his hand, playing with his rings. “No, not right now…Maybe later?” She said uncertainly. 

Harry just nodded, kissing her forehead this time. “You know I'm here whenever you need me.”

“You are always here,” She whispered, “It gives me peace.”

“Knowing I’m here?” He whispered back.

“Yes.”

They fell asleep just like that, cuddling each other as Jake said something that made Amy laugh.

The next morning came by as a hope offering. 

Y/N was still asleep when Harry placed a plate full of chocolate pancakes in front of her. “Wha-What is that?” Y/N asked lazily, rubbing her eye off sleepiness.

“A sweet breakfast in bed for my sweet girl,” Harry responded, caressing Y/N's cheeks. “I know yesterday was not a good day for you, and I don’t know how today is gonna come by, but I’m here to make sure it all comes around ok.”

Y/N smiled as she quickly ate her pancakes, stealing kisses from Harry as he watched her happy, warmth in his chest whenever she looked at him.

[inthemiddle0feverywhere]

Bad Batch Season 3 Episode 5 (scattered) thoughts and first impressions (ramblings)

Major spoilers under the cut

This one is also very long because mannnnnnn did I love this episode and omg do I have big feelings about it

Also yes I do love each member of tbb but in case it’s not obvious I’m a crosshair girlie. Have been since I first heard his voice in season 7 of tcw so this is gonna be very crosshair centric (because he finally has screen time and more than like 2 speaking lines this season!!)

Lula! 🥰🥰

Is Omega in a supply closet? Whatever better than her barren room at the lab

Ah nope her old “room” the gun turret 🥰🥰

A glimpse of mornings on board the marauder: peaceful boys and caf 🥹 probably only peaceful again now that omega is home

This is Omega’s best look omg the the crocheted vest??? I wanna cosplay her now or actually just wear this outfit fr

At first I was so annoyed they kept crosshair in this ugly ass outfit but I honestly think it’s because even though it’s warm on Pabu he’s always cold because he’s so skinny now (well he always was lean but this is a testament to how much weight he lost as a prisoner) They keep trying to feed him fruit and my man keeps using it as target practice 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

I honestly love when they show scenes through like either a scope or helmet visor. Like I really love seeing what they’re seeing. In this case AZI (so happy they took him from Cids bar- sorry “parlor”….it was a dive bar)

He’s so mad at his hand 😭 my poor baby he really should let AZI look at it. What do we think it is? Nerve damage? I imagine it feels tingly like when your foot falls asleep.

I love that Batcher loves him!! Animals know good people. He’s a good man Savannah! 😭😭😭 and he likes Batcher too and anyone that’s kind to animals is ok by me.

Ugh Crosshair teaching Omega about being a sniper 🥰🥰😭🥰😭🥰 one day she’s just gonna pop out with a sick trick shot lmao

Shouldn’t have given him his rifle??? Sir it’s an extension of him, it’s like you gave him back one of his body parts

“Omega trusts him and that’s good enough for me” Wrecker!!! My sweet boy!! Big man and even bigger heart. He’s now kinda caught in the middle he wants to be cool with Crosshair again but doesn’t want to betray Hunter they’ve been through a lot just the 2 of them these past several months. Crosshair and Hunter are like parents in the middle of a divorce 😭

53%???? Fuckkkkkkk way worse than we thought

Echo!!!!! Yay mom came home!

“No hug for me” screaming crying throwing up! 😭😭😭😭😭😭 💔💔💔💔he’s disguising it as sarcasm but he wants it, he wants a hug! SOMEBODY HUG HIM DAMMIT! I volunteer!!! Please

Omega between her 2 dads 🥰 (Though is Crosshair more wine aunt vibes sometimes?) And batcher by Crosshair’s feet of course

Yummmmm I bet Pabu has banging sushi 🍣 Love Wrecker being an unbothered king enjoying his sush🥰

😭😭😭😭😭 Crosshair’s face when Echo mentioned Tech. He knows. He knows he fell or perished (shh no 🤡) trying to save him. They’re twins and he lost his other half and I’m devastated!! 😭

Haaaaa welcome to parenting a teenager Hunter!!!

Are Hunter’s eyes green all of a sudden?

Crosshair being the voice of reason?? I love seeing this side of him. I HC that since he is silent and highly observant he was a voice reason often for the batch. (Can we please get a series of TBB during the clone wars?? Or like when they were cadets or something. We only see them in 4 episodes in tcw and they were just an insane suicide squad who hated regs and didn’t follow orders or have anyone in charge of them like I wanna see their adventures and their dynamic and how they are when they have downtime! Please lucasfilmmmmmm 🙇‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️)

“I’m older than you are, little brother” 😂😂😂 and she got crosshair to chuckle lol ugh I love their dynamic so much. They are really feeding us rn (please don’t take it away)

Omg he’s so brave bringing them back there! To that freaking ice planet where nothing but trauma happened for Crosshair. I know he probably wished he would never have to go back there again but he knows this will help so he goes anyway

The old armor!!!! Helllllll frickinnnn yeaaaaaa (he’s so hot in armor omg I have a headache)

“Take a guesssssss” 🥵

“He started it” 😂😂 major youngest sibling energy

Mayday’s helmet! 💔💔💔💔 somebody sedate me!! 😭

Why can’t Hunter sense the Wyrm?

TOOTHPICK!!! Wrecker defo kept his toothpicks in the armor case 🥰

Frickin ice vulture always an omen. (Animals seem to really like Crosshair though even the scary ones)

“I know you” 😭 I know Hunter meant it in a “I know you’re sneaky and closed off and I’m expecting the worst from you right now ” but it just hit me harder than that. “I know you”- you’re my brother, the youngest I’ve known you since the day you were born. “I know you- I know there’s more to your silence I know your still waters run way deeper than you let on.” “I’m your brother- I know you talk to me I know you”❤️‍🩹

Oh shitttttt thems are fightin words yes let it out everyone

“I’ll do it! 😁” Wreckerrrr I love you

Hunter’s fast af boi!

Batcher is actually ripped af 💪

Ok petition that Cross doesn’t yell anymore it doesn’t suit him at all lmaoooo

Poor Wrecker yes it’s always ALWAYS a huge monster 😭

“Fantastic” 😂😂😂

Omg this is a roller coaster of emotions! Crosshair being soft with Batcher, the nodding! Ugh nothing like fending off a giant ice wyrm to bring bros back together

He’s so pretty shut up I know his head is shaped like a lightbulb

AAHH THERES THE HUG 🥰

progress 😌

“I thought I was being a good soldier 😔” * *pterodactyl screeching *

Welp Im deceased, fed and nurtured but dead at the same time.

Thank you thank you thank you for these past few episodes. Us Crosshair girlies were really in pain seasons 1 and 2

[sehtoast]

In the quiet moments before bed, Homelander and Ben share their hopes and dreams for the future, finding solace in the knowledge that they'll face whatever comes together.

Either a small fic or a HC format if this is something you are interested to write about.🙏

I just wanna see more cute moments with one of my fav couples. 🥹

asdfghjkl thank you for this ❤️😭 on this episode of domestic benlander bliss...

"Well, we can’t just move to the cabin.  What would you swing from?”

These were the moments that make everything so special.  The soft times, the after, when the world was quiet and it was just them.  No obligations, no wailing sirens (yet), and no assistants pestering them about their next daily task.

“I could attach a web to you.” Ben says.  “Have you fly around a bit.  Course you’d be doing all the work, but…” 

The bug lays on his side, palm supporting his head as he stares down at Homelander.  A faint glow from the TV illuminates them both, long forgotten as they’d wandered into their favorite bedtime subject.

The future.

“Nope.  No free rides.  Well, except on my–”  Homelander raises his brows suggestively.  

“Oh my god,”  Ben groans through a laugh.  “Later.”

A brief pause.

“Some nice houses in Queens, and I could still swing around.” He says.  “Christ, never thought I’d be able to afford something like that, let alone entertain the thought, y’know?”

“Oh please, it’s just a house.” Homelander says as though it really wasn’t that big of a deal.  “How much could it be, like two hundred thousand?”

“Uh… times four and then some.”  Ben replies, reaching for his phone.  He taps away, pulling up a real estate website and snuggles in to make it easier for both to view the screen.  “Man, check these out.”

Homelander scoffs at the most plain looking house he’s ever seen.  “Boring.” He says, swiping his finger along the screen to scroll through.  “Ugly– no way– not happening.  This one doesn’t even have a fence!”

“Oh the horror,” Ben teases.  “Life’s more than a white picket fence, y’know.  Besides, I prefer a nice stained wood approach myself.” 

“Of course you do.”  Homelander scoffs.  “Eeew, this one has a pink toilet!  God, look at the tile color–”

“There’s a reason some of these don’t show the interior.  Did you see the green kitchen cabinets earlier?”

“Yuck,” John groans.  “I don’t know about Queens, babe.  They seem like psychopaths.”

“Blame the seventies.”  Ben says, scrolling to the next one. “Oh my god is that fucking–”

“Leopard print wallpaper! What the fuck is wrong with people...” John chortles.  “Oh, hey, this one’s nice.”

“What would we do with four thousand square feet?”  Ben asks, head tilted back to catch whatever expression his love must be wearing.  “I mean, we’d have Ryan running around too.  Could make him a dedicated Lego room– ooh, and a little studio for his home movies.”

“Now you’re talkin’.”  John says. “Wait, wait.  Yellow walls– no way, babe.”

“We could always just paint– holy shit, is that stained glass in the foyer?”  Ben’s brows raise.  "But yeah... We could paint it. We could make it anything we want, y'know?"

Homelander’s arm wraps tighter around Ben’s shoulder, drawing him closer.  One day they’ll settle somewhere that’s wholly their own.  No hustle and bustle of the tower.  No PA’s to terrorize them. No more circus acts.

Just them, Ryan, and a slice of peace that was all theirs.

One day.

For now, though, they can dream.

[starlightandetherealshadows]

How are the ros when in a romance with mc?

Hi angel!

I'm going to describe kind of overarching "themes" or motifs for each of the romance options and their routes. There won't be many spoilers, but lil fun hints (fun is a loose term cuz im kinda evil).

Also, you'll get to experience romances with the RO when you read the story hehehe, trust me it's coming! The demo is only up to chapter 1...gotta give MC some time to heal from that sweet spicy trauma (or not).

Chapter 2 Part 1 is coming along quite nicely, I'm anticipating it to be about 30K without code.

Without further ado, here are the romance vibes for the RO in Memento Mori!

Delphine: "i never knew love until I met you", breakfast in bed and massages after a long day, she wants to spoil you, "i wish i could stop time, I wish I could keep this forever." You make her feel worthy, you make her feel seen. She remembers all of your favorite things, her love language is words of affirmation and gift giving. She's protective over you; she lets you see the parts of herself she keeps hidden. all her favorite love songs are about you.

"I wanna love me, the way that you love me. for all of my pretty, and all of my ugly too. I'd love to see me from your point of view. I wanna trust me, the way that you trust me. Ooh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do. I'd love to see me from your point of view" POV by Ariana Grande

Honorable Mention: A Thousand Years by Christina Perri

Zero Chevalier: "MC over morals", it's soft smiles and softer touches, like you're the most precious thing he's ever held. it's wide eyed surprise at your reciprocation, love that is dark and consuming, you're in his sweetest dreams, and you're the light in his darkest nightmares, "remind me that this is real." has a hundred drawings of you in his sketchbook "You're my home."

"There's a lover in the story, but the story's still the same. There's a lullaby for suffering, and a paradox to blame. But it's written in the scriptures. And it's not some idol claim. You want it darker. We kill the flame." You Want it Darker by Leonard Cohen

Honorable Mention: Peace by Taylor Swift

Xa'eks/Xa'veed: war between head and heart, not sure who is falling first and who is falling harder, not only bends the rules, but breaks them for you. overwhelmed by the severity of their emotions, wants to make up for all the years they spent without knowing you, has told the stars about you, knows they will lose you but loves you like they won't, you could live inside them and it wouldn't be close enough, love language is physical touch

"I can't help but love you, Even though I try not to. I can't help but want you. I know that I'd die without you. I can't help but be wrong in the dark. 'Cause I'm overcome in this war of hearts. I can't help but want oceans to part. 'Cause I'm overcome in this war of hearts" War of Hearts by Ruelle

Honorable Mention: Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift

Ayana Tsosie: let me be your peace (when the world is going to shit), there's nothing wrong with loving again, we have more on the line than love, you can't fight your heart without hurting yourself in the long run. she keeps an eye on you across rooms and battlefields, she treats you as her equal, you've become one of the best parts of her life (new and old), you borrowed her heart and refused to give it back, but she gave it willingly. your hand in hers is what love poems are written about.

"Have you ever wished for an endless night? Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight. Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself. Will it ever get better than tonight?" Glitter in the Air by P!nk

Honorable Mention: Love Me Like You Do by Elle Goulding

Cecelia/Chase: friends to lovers but I love my friends just as deeply, they don't know they love you until they almost lose you, there's butterflies in my bloodstream (it must be because of you), partners in crime, communication without words. they know what you need before you do, they bring you flowers and will choose to stare at you over the most beautiful sunsets (because nothing compares in their eyes)

"I'm dancing in the dark. With you between my arms, barefoot on the grass. Listening to our favorite song, I have faith in what I see. Now I know I have met an angel in person" Perfect by Ed Sheeran

Honorable Mention: Say You Won't Let Go by James Arthur

[multi-phantom]

SL GEM + SCOTT POV SPOILERS

I can never be normal about the ends of these series. If you think this is cringe go away 😊 [NOT A SHIP]

"Scott? Where are you?" Gem calls out to her last ally left, dread and desperation seep into her voice. Impulse had just died, she'd been too late. She couldn't be late again. "Where is everyone..." She mutters, eyes scanning over the battle torn terrain. A speck of telltale light blue peaks through the savannah trees, the faint sound of shouting and arrows following him as he runs in her direction.

The relief fades immediately as the bloody image of one of her best friends inches closer. "Scott!?" She shouts, rushing towards him and past the secret keeper.

"Gem you need to kill me!" He says, rushing towards her. He repeats himself over and over as if it's the only logical choice left.

"No- Why do I need to kill you?!" She says, helping him walk over to the secret keeper. His blood stains her hands a dark red. He sits down on a patch of moss, still breathing heavily. The air feels still here, like the secret keeper is granting them one last moment together. She can't kill him, he's her last Scott, her last friend left alive.

"I'm on two and a half hearts, if they kill me and get the ten-" Panicked tears prick in his eyes. Several patches of his hair have been stained an ugly greyish blue with his own blood. There are arrows sticking out of angry red wounds. Gemini hates the color red right now. Hates how it's taken over every valuable thing in this life. "I don't think I can do it. I think- I think you're gonna need to do it." Scott heaves. His gaze settles on her seriously, he knows exactly how she'd feel in this situation. He's had to kill his own allies before. He hates it, but it's better than the alternative.

"Scott-" Gemini says, on the verge of tears. This was not how this was supposed to end.

"Wait, before you do— here, take these." He says, pulling things out of his bag. An end crystal, his entire stash of ender pearls, the rest of his food, zombie eggs, and his power four bow. All of this stuff that he should be using to fight lays at her feet. She wants to refuse it. She wants to force him to fight, but at this point, that'd be crueler than death.

"Go on, gem, go. You got this." He says, nudging the sword clutched in her right hand. Tears pour down her cheeks like the raging river surrounding their home, she wishes for a moment that this was all one horrible nightmare. One terrifying dream. She wants to wake up back in those pink walls of her base with her two closest friends.

She settles for a pathetic "Thank you, Scott." as she tucks the items into her bag, save for the bow, which she replaces her near broken one with.

Gemini lifts her sword, if she has to kill him, she wants to make it quick. Her blade slices through his skin and bone, snuffing out the last candles of hope. Lightning strikes down in front of her. She gains ten hearts, but hers breaks as her best friend's body lies, cooling rapidly and lifeless. She cuts a layer of moss off of the secret keeper and covers his body in it. It's an unmarked grave, sure, but it's the most she has time for. He deserves this much. Fire tipped arrows rain down around her. An unmarked grave is better than no grave, and that's quite a lot more than what most people have after the last few days. She hopes he's at peace, or at least cheering her on from the other side.

The world around her seems to gray out around the edges. Her will to fight has been snuffed out. Three players remain. "Hey secret keeper..." She mumbles as she scrambles to the top of it for leverage. She starts raining down arrow fire at her enemy with Scott's bow. Every arrow should be his. The damage she deals is in his stead. It should've been her. Her heart's not in it anymore. Gemini takes a deep breath, before

"You wanna fight? Let's fight." She says, under her breath to no one in particular. Maybe it's to her opponents, maybe it's to the secret keeper. This game of dodgeball isn't going anywhere, she slides off the back of the secret keeper, landing in a roll.

"I don't think I can fight Pearl..." She says to herself. Shes already killed one ally, or now, ex-ally. "I think pearl wins this." Because if anyone has to win, maybe the person she'd fought alongside at one point could win for the both of them. She'd never liked Scar much anyway.

"Gem... Don't make me do this, Gem." Pearl says from atop a foothill.

"I don't know!" Pearl shouts back, desperation clinging to her voice. An arrow strikes Gemini through the side. She doesn't cry out. She ender-pearls away from her ex-ally as more arrows wizz by. She takes in a breath right as she's dumped into ice cold water surrounding the disheveled heart foundation. Her blood mixes with the water, yet the feeling of blood on her skin never leaves.

"I'm not making you do anything!" Gem shouts exasperatedly. "Pearl, what are you doing?!" She dodges under an arrow, sliding behind a tree.

She exits the water, just to see Scar rounding the pass. "Hi, Gem!" He says, all too sweetly. She slashes at him with her sword instead of returning the gesture. Pearl follows up close behind him, as she and scar exchange sword swipes.

"Two versus one? You guys are so gross!" Gemini snarks. She slashes and stabs at Scar, who dips away so Pearl can land another strike. Maybe she can wear Scar down at least. Secure the victory for someone else. Scar swings at her again and again as Pearl watches on, cheering her ally along.

"D'ya wanna sword this out with me Gem, or with Scar?" Pearl says, grazing Gemini across the face.

Gemini's blood splatters on the soft grass staining what was once green, red. She hates red.

A peaceful smile graces her face. She thinks she can hear Impulse and Scott somewhere, cheering her on.

Images of her old life flash before her eyes. Pink walls, easy laughter, the joy of existence, those first days of peace. She wants that again.

Lightning strikes.