#killing me would be better than whatever this is tbh

[bomber-grl]

Peter Parker Dating hc 🕸️

Pairing(s):Peter Parker (Tom hollands)x Gn!Reader (both civilian and superhero included)

As a civilian you were probably unaware of his secret identity for a good awhile

Until you inevitably found out and began dating

How you found out well, well let’s just say it wasn’t ideal

You had been friends for awhile and the only way Peter would ever let you near him or his room (while having a crush on you) would be if he forgot something at your house or something

So you knocked and May let you know he wasn’t there but still let you in

I mean she wasn’t just gonna let you stand outside waiting for him, if anything he was to blame for not being responsible about the time you two established for meeting up

Queue you walking into his room and he’s half suited up and the both of you are just staring at eachother

That interaction led to some discourse, obviously

But after the initial shock you (surprisingly) moved on

Now if you’re a superhero working for stark for some reason then you met that way and there’s no secret identity reveal

Tbh the two of you have to have something in common

Whether its interests in comics or “nerd” stuff

something had to have led to the two of you getting together

Or maybe you’re just into easily flustered, needy men, who knows 🤷‍♀️

Like if you’re a hero then you met that way and share that in common (including tech if you’re into that)

So just imagine Peter, whose very nervous/ excited, just absolutely rambling about some interest that was briefly mentioned and that you both shared

The thing is, you’re on a date right now and he’s absolutely embarrassing himself (in his opinion)

He’d try to plan everything to perfection and gift you what he can even if he feels it might pale to what you’re used to (if you’re wealthy)

Your first date was especially memorable since not only did he display his nervousness so obviously but it was as if the universe couldn’t let his plan run smoothly

He had tripped, stuttered, made too many mistakes to count, just a piece of work all in all

To you though? It was endearing

He had wanted your first date to be the upmost perfection, even if it wasn’t an average persons “ideal” by the end-

It didn’t matter because you could tell the genuine affection he had for you so much so that he had planned this all, and unfortunately (for him) embarrassed himself beyond return in front of you

“Kill me now”

- Peter probably

He doesn’t really seem like it, if anything he seems pretty self actualized but there’s obviously moments where he feels a bit sorry (?) for the lack of a better word

He’s just always clumsy, and getting flustered easily

Especially around you

So although he might think that you probably think less than ideally of him, he couldn’t be more wrong

If anything it adds to his charm and anything he does is pretty endearing

So when you decide to share such words with Peter while you’re chilling in his room

Well, he’s floored

He thanks you but then that spirals into him stuttering and tripping over himself

Despite the fact that you complimented him to not only ease his worries but also to just let him know-

He’s groveling (exaggeration) and apologizing for, again, being himself…

Blud needs to chill out…

Usually after missions or whatever they’re called- Peter usually has minor injuries or cuts

How do you know this? You’re his main source of comfort so he’s sneak in through your window into your room as often as he can

A particular moment was when you both decided to have a sleep over at your house

It was definitely a huge progress in your relationship but you should’ve known better

While you were asleep, he snuck off and att the end of his little escapade, he snuck back in

Only thing is that he returned back through the window he snuck out from just to be met with the lights on

He visibly sunk at your disappointed gaze once he noticed you up

He isn’t in the best state so you take it easy on him and just go rummaging through your cabinets- you hoped to have something for his wounds around there somewhere

As you’re searching, Peter has taken it upon himself to convince you his injuries are nothing, just go back to bed, and is just overall downplaying his condition

You pause and just stare at him

Obviously he’s taken by surprise but he realizes he can’t do anything to stop you and just lets you continue

Even while your cleaning his wounds or bandaging him up he’s making jokes about the situation

Well maybe not jokes but we all know how rambly he gets when he’s nervous

Somehow digging himself a grave right there

On that same page

We’re all aware of how difficult it is for Peter to balance his civilian and superhero life

I’m not up for debate- it might as well be canon

He’s always having to leave school for superhero work in which it has consequences or he leaves superhero work and still has consequences in the franchise so respectfully: 🤫🤐)

Peter tries super hard to be there and include you in what’s going on but sometimes he needs to cancel or leave hang outs abruptly

You understand this obviously but it’s still upsetting, not as much if you’re a superhero id imagine

But yknow

Still annoying asf

You don’t give him hell for it even if you want to because either 1. You do the same thing (superhero) 2. He can’t help it and he already gets enough shit

He’s also super protective

Especially if you’re a civilian

It’s sort of endearing/ annoying- somehow both simultaneously

Now if you’re a hero/ avenger then you both understand things about your secret identities

Particularly about hiding them

Yknow how Ned would always help Peter out? Well you and Peter do that for eachother

If u have family or others who aren’t aware like friends- Peter has your back and vice versa

It’s just the price you need to pay

Especially since it’s not easy balancing lives

[boozeforbrains]

You say you’re sober, but a lot of your posts are about disregarding limits or POS friends who enable drinking or talking sober people into drinking. Is it a fantasy of yours for your sobriety to be broken? Or do you see yourself as the enabler pushing the sober person in these kinds of scenarios?

Warning very serious and not so serious approach to this topic

Hmm yeah difficult psychosexual situation for me.

I do fantasize about being like bullied or forced into having my sobriety broken and it turns me on like very few other things, i always had the fantasy of forced intoxication/accidental intoxication/pushed/tricked/etc, ranging from being subtly manipulated to being literally tied up/kidnapped/whatever and for all intents and purposes forced, mentally and physically.

It became sort of more specific after i decided to be sober. I think if i genuinely had this happen to me, specifically if the other person got off on it as well and was very focused on getting me drunk id probably get off on it forever, literally a wet dream come true.

Sometimes i wonder if its a way out of being responsible for my own sobriety, or for drinking „just one more time“ im thinking its probably many things including this but also a life long fantasy.

Im always torn on the „do it or dont“ i genuinely do not believe there is truly a way to decide between right and wrong here. Only the time i have on this earth and what i decide to do with it. And again, ive had this fantasy since before puberty, at this point i wonder if its more of a need than a wish.

On the other hand i am an extremely responsible and health conscious person, i have a very full schedule, not a lot of time off and high expectations for myself in regards to my physical, (inter)personal, academic and work performance, all of which are pretty big contraindications to indulging myself as much as id like. (And presumably also the reason i tend to drink so heavily cause i cant get my brain to stop pushing myself to doing better and better and more and more)

Im also not a casual drinker at all. I dont drink often, i dont drink just one glass and i dont enjoy the taste of alcohol tbh, i never was a one beer/glass of wine to unwind type guy. I usually go for pretty long periods of time not even caring about alcohol at all and then drink very hard for a shorter period of time (it has to be worth it style) which is also why it took me a while to realize that my behaviour is not healthy regardlng alcohol tho again, Alcohol is just not healthy, no not even one glass, this has been proven by multiple studies at this point. its a neurotoxin that very much kills and cripples people, if were looking at it from a very sober (haha) perspective. (And since i work in healthcare i have seen the very real consequences of consistent, heavy alcohol abuse)

I dont know that i would feel comfortable pushing someone else into breaking sobriety, it would be a very individual decision for sure, mainly depending on how informed the other person was, how much they were consenting etc. i definitely wouldnt dare do it on a whim for purely my own pleasure, tho i could see myself indulging someone who was giving me a clear „go“ and enjoying it.

Even working the bar ive felt uncomfortable serving someone who after a couple drinks let drop to someone they were chatting with that theyd been sober for the last seven months. It made me sad because i know how much genuinely hard work it is.

On the other hand awooga drunk hot and sexy. That part is very implemented in my brain as well.

Not sure if this is the answer you were looking for, its definitely a complex topic for me, i hope i could sort of explain my feelings and thoughts on it to your statisfaction.

[thirstyvampyr]

There was a day off so more people came in the building to enjoy their time, u know, normal behavior. It’s a bunch of small studio apartments with tile floors, windows are opened because it’s hot, you can hear people walking and talking, normal again. My boyfriend doesn't like this, so the past few days he’s been having the longest toddler tantrum about it. Walking hard on his heels, blasting tv he doesn't watch at 2am, vacuuming loudly and throwing the vacuum around for extra noise, slamming the chairs randomly, yelling random rap lyrics etc

you’re in your 50s for crying out loud either go talk to them or shut the fuck up

[weareuniqueandimportant]

WE WATCHED HIGHSPEED ETOILE EPISODE 11... DAMN QUEEN IS GETTING HER ASS KICKED WHILE KING'S IS SQUEAKY CLEAN... AT THE SAME TIME THAT MIGHT BE THEY'RE GOING TO PULL SOMETHING REALLY IMPORTANT TO HER CHARACTER NEXT EPISODE... AND SHE MIGHT END UP MORE COMPLEX AND INTERESTING THAN THE KING IS... BTW HER REACTION TO RIN PASSING HER IS VERY CUTE AND FUNNY... COULD THIS BE... WLW X CAR RACE ATTRACTION PARAPHILIA REPRESENTATION...?!?! THAT WOULD BE FLAMES... INFACT I ALREADY DECIDED THIS... IF THERE'LL BE MORE SEASONS THERE COULD BE ALOT MORE SUCH CONTENT TBH... FIRE TO BE HONEST... SPY KYOUSHITSU GOT MUCH BETTER WITH SEASON 2... COULD THIS BE JUST ANOTHER SLOW STARTING BANGER...? COULD BE COULD BE... THEN... ALL THOSE OTHER SERIES COULD BE THE SAME... ALL OF THEM TBH... THAT WOULD BE FLAMES TBH...

[svtswhorehouse]

OT 13 : drunk or high sex — nsfw

Seungcheol : drunk sex. oh. he gets rough, but like, a good kinda rough. lowkey, gets possessive and loves marking you. make sure you check your neck before you go into work the next morning cause he will leave hickeys !!! likes making sure everyone knows who you belong to and will admit to it, he has no shame.

Jeonghan : high sex. you’re telling me you wouldn’t want to make out with this man when he’s on cloud nine ? i mean, he already has “fuck me” eyes like come on. A TEASE. will tell you to wait when you start to whine cause he’s taking his sweet time. TONGUE DOES WONDERS. your eyes will never not be rolled into the back of your head. lowkey likes it when you pull his hair.

Joshua : neither, but not opposed to trying it out. prefers to be completely present and in the moment. will try it out a few times, kind of has the “if it happens, it happens” mindset. will never say no to you though. if anything it happens more when y’all are tipsy than when y’all are drunk.

Junhui : high sex. will probably make a weird joke mid-fuck and have you being like ????? wtf. but it’s okay cause it’s jun and he’ll have you seeing stars regardless. might have to take a break and switch positions cause weed makes him sleepy.

Hoshi : hear me out, high. thought he was too giggly and accident prone when drunk and didn’t wanna kill the vibe. A MUNCH !!!! like you know how people get the muchies when they’re high ? yeah, hoshi just goes down on you whenever he gets them. would be on a mission to make you squirt.

Wonwoo : high sex. honestly, you wouldn’t even be able to tell he’s high, his composure is insane. lazy sex, but he’ll still do all the work because there’s no way he’s gonna let his princess do any. tbh, really really good at rolling and will hold it up to your lips making direct eye contact while you take a hit.

Woozi : neither. man barely even drinks, what makes you think he lights up ? doesn’t need to be under the influence of anything to get you off and he can prove it to you too.

Dokyeom : drunk sex. giggly !!! all sunshine and smiles. will probably make dirty jokes just for fun, but it’s okay cause at least he makes you feel good. he’ll def pamper you with a bunch of kisses before, after, and during the act. king of aftercare when drunk, even if he knocks over everything in his way by accident but y’all can just deal with that in the morning.

Mingyu : BOTH. would not be opposed to getting cross faded. will take a hit and blow it straight into your mouth to initiate a makeout sesh. passionate and rough about everything !! will most likely end up fucking on every surface, from the couch to the kitchen counter — i would make sure you wipe that off if I were you. after, will either make you food or do a late night convenience store run with you.

Minghao : high sex. slow, sensual, and passionate. honestly might last hours just cause you two get carried away. y’all spend like an hour alone just making out until your lips are all puffy and red. not a talker when high, but he does like to make a lot of eye contact.

Seungkwan : drunk sex. tried it while high once and felt like he wasn’t productive enough ???? for some reason he’s always go, go, go. feels like he can do a lot more and please you better when drunk. a cutie pie, always making sure you’re alright at all times. will probably make you get off on his thigh and you’re not opposed cause have you seen his quads ?????

Vernon : HIGH FOR SURE. man is definitely a stoner in another life. chill. so chill, that you would have to initiate something and he’ll just go along with whatever makes you happy. might whine, but if you hear it, pretend you didn’t. also, has worn his red tinted glasses a few times during the deed for some reason ???? (ifykyk)

Dino : drunk. honestly probably got drunk cause he was trying to calm his nerves. would want to initiate it, but in the end he probably took so long that you did. his biggest fantasies come out when drunk and would either ask to try titty fucking or you’d end up sixty-nining.

[vesppperoro]

hii uhh, i had a little idea that id like to share if thats ok, it might be quite triggering tho so be warned ‼️

a sinner demon reader thats based on a teddy bear, because theyre too soft and mushy personality-wise, and they ended up in hell due to being suicidal. like their whole body is covered in stitches thats supposed to be a metaphor for sh scars

do whatever u want with that info, u can even ignore it if u like, have a nice day ❤️

Hazbin Hotel Cast with a Teddy Bear!Sinner Reader

Includes: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, Sir. Pentious, Cherri Bomb, Alastor.

A/N: this is such an interesting idea! I’m going based on my own experiences as someone like this, along with research. I appreciate you for trusting me with this <3 I definitely WILL make a p2!! Might write for this sinner more tbh I loved writing them!! I thought you meant a child and I wrote that I’m so sorry 😭

Charlie Morningstar

She truly didn’t understand why you were in hell.

You are such a sweetheart! She adores you.

When you showed up to the hotel one day, without clothes and covered in stitches, she was immediately worried.

She took you in and washed you up as best as she could.

You were like a child! Why were you even here?

She was happy that you wanted to be redeemed, however.

She became a mother figure to you.

You go to her when you’re sad and you hug her frequently.

She traces your scars sometimes and you two share a silent moment together.

A silent moment of understanding.

She loves picking you up and holding you!

She hugs you like you’re an actual teddy bear.

She’s the one you go to for emotional things.

She’s good at comforting you. She somehow knows what you wanna hear at all times.

Vaggie

She became a secondary mother figure to you.

She was Charlie’s girlfriend, so of course she was.

She understood your situation and was pissed heaven casted a sweetie like you because of your lowest point.

She’s the more levelheaded one.

She’s the one who gives you advice and stuff like that. While Charlie is the more emotionally supportive one, Vaggie is the more mature and steady one.

She also traces your scars. Even if you don’t like them, she tells you you’re beautiful no matter what.

When you told her more of your story, she almost cried.

A child feeling this way broke her to pieces. Especially since you were so soft.

Other than the sad stuff, she loves cuddling you.

You, her, and Charlie sometimes have cuddle sessions with you in the middle because you’re so warm + soft + squishy.

She would kill anyone for you. You’re just so adorable!

She tries to teach you to fight but gives up when you don’t want to hurt anyone.

Angel Dust

Honestly, he saw himself in you.

A lost, scared, and lonely child. You didn’t know the cruelties of the world, aside from those cruelties in your mind.

He tries his best to comfort you. He’s not the best with words, but he’s always there for you.

He calls you sugar bear! He loves you to death.

He would go to the ends of hell for you.

He treats you like he wished to be when he was the same way.

You two share a lot of similarities, so you bond well.

He nearly cried when you told him your stitches were scars from sh.

He embraces you any time he can.

He tries to be the parental figure he needed so you can have a better life, somewhere no one would judge you.

Husk

He’s stubborn, like a dad. He acts like one too.

A hardheaded, yet sweet dad.

He’s like the father you never had. Or did have. Whichever.

He’s the bartender, so he knew how to comfort.

But when you told him your story, he almost broke.

You two definitely sing some sort of song together. Maybe Angel or Vaggie joins.

He cuddles you and hides you with his wings.

If you give him baby doe eyes, he might just take you on a flight.

Husk is SUPER protective over you. He’s very similar to Vaggie in a way when it comes to protection.

He gives you good advice but he still hides behind his tough guy exterior.

He doesn’t understand why you’re down here, even if you tell him. You’re so sweet!

Either way, he adores you.

He loves patting your head and messing with your fuzzy ears.

Might even boop your nose once or twice.

Late night talks.

He probably talked you down from trying to commit again.

Niffty

Another tiny person! Yay!

You’re not a bad boy. She may be a psycho, but she would never call you bad.

Actually, she did once and felt bad once you cried.

She likes to hang out with you since you’re both tiny!

She cuddles and hugs you like you’re her stuffed animal.

Bug killers! Even if you don’t wanna kill bugs, she’s dragging you along anyways.

She tries to hide her needle from you since Husk told her what your stitches meant.

Alastor has to babysit both of you basically.

You and her do almost everything together! You’re best friends!

She sneaks into the kitchen and grabs you both snacks so you can watch a movie.

She makes you sleep in her bed sometimes so she can cuddle you.

Sir. Pentious

He’s a dad. Or, he was.

He treats you like he wishes he treated his son before he passed.

He acts like your father. An awkward father, but he still tries.

He also protects you.

Expect him to curl his tail around you and cuddle you when you’re sad.

He literally cried when you told him your story.

He tells you anytime he can that it’s not your fault. Your stitches are still beautiful.

Best girl dad ever.

Buys you anything he wants, even if he’s broke. (Except sharp things)

He teaches you some things about inventing!

You made him a little metal flower and he was so overjoyed. He took it with him everywhere.

He still remembers you, even if he’s in Heaven now.

Cherri Bomb

Chaotic auntie energy.

She would do ANYTHING for you.

She picks you up and places you on her hip like a baby.

She loves your ears! She also adores how sweet you are.

She wouldn’t admit it, but you’re the cutest thing she’s ever seen.

Even if you tell her your story, she wouldn’t see you differently. You’re a child, a child who went through so much.

Hangouts with her and Angel are a MUST.

They try to avoid doing the normal around you and focus on fun time.

She took you with her when she had a territorial fight one time and you almost cried.

She felt so bad that she bought you anything you wanted for a week.

She did anything you wanted to do, even if Husk or someone else said no to you.

Basically, if you wanted something, you went to her.

Alastor

He’s not one to like kids, really.

He was, however, kinder to you.

He did anything to protect you.

He was like your insane uncle.

He was the one who taught you how to use your abilities. Maybe to help you, or to manipulate you when you grow.

He made you jambalaya once and it became your favorite dish to share with him!

He introduced you to radio and he was happy that you loved it.

He started bringing you to his studio whenever he did a radio show.

He took you to an overlord meeting once. That’s how you met Rosie.

He pats your head like a dog lol.

Don’t expect him to be emotionally available. But he will be there to have fun sometimes.

[hvly]

WINDBREAKER VIRGINS YOU SAY 👀👀👀

— ⋆｡˚｡⋆ ｡˚ 𓆩𖥔𓆪 ˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆ —

speaking : yep, you heard right 🙂‍↕️ every show/manga i read is gonna get hit with my virgin ray. "i love virgins, anon ! I LOVE VIRGIIINS !"

𓆩𖥔𓆪 — disclaimer ! these are just my opinions ! if you disagree, cool. let's keep it cute. tbh, they all could be virgins, but they’re the most pressing in my eyes.

Nirei Akihiko

Don't get me wrong, I like Nirei alot ! I think he's super cute and he's so sweet it makes my teeth hurt. But, until his confidence goes up, ain't nothing going down. i do think he has a separate notebook with sex tips that's he gathered from various sources. From friends he worked up the courage to ask, to Cosmo articles, to the pornos he watches on lonely nights. When he finally get brave enough to try though, best believe he'll be prepared for any possible scenario.

Sugishita Kyotaro

Again, I feel like perhaps because he's tall, quiet and handsome, y'all think he'd be laying pipe. I mean, the quiet ones are usually the nastiest in bed, right? extremely loud incorrect buzzer. It'd be a miracle to actually get a sentence out of him. And it'd be another miracle to convince him to come shake the sheets instead of playing Umemiya's shadow. The plants he takes care of have a better chance getting wet by him than you ever will.

Tsugeura Taiga

Straight up, he just scares away any possible suitors. Plus, he's a little slow on the uptake. Between being loud and a bit off putting, and his his inability to catch social cues, he is unfortunately stuck in perpetual virgindom. That's it, that's all.

Sakura Haruka

Now, put the torches and pitchforks down before y'all drag me to the town square. How do we as a collective think Sakura would react if he saw you naked? Stand there reveling in the majesty that is you, dick so hard he might pass out? No. He'd turn red and start yelling before you even get your shoes off. Get him more comfortable with being romantic/sexual, and i’m sure the yelling, stomping, flailing and cherry red blush will die down…in a couple years. Best of luck !

Saku Mizuki

Wannabe General Mizuki. The minute I saw him, I knew he was getting NO pussy. And that makes me sad for him, it truly does. He's too stiff. If, for some odd reason on your part, you decided to lay the moves on him, he'd probably lecture you on how it's inappropriate to shamelessly flirt with people. He'd kill the mood so bad. Plus that one dude called him ugly and he turned around..oof

Takiishi Chika

Take this one with a grain of salt, but from what I've gathered...he just would not be interested. I'm sure Endo has tried bringing it to his attention before. And I'm also sure he got the fire knocked out his ass as soon as it left his mouth. Now, if does decide to get his dick wet, I hope you're fully resigned to letting him do whatever he wants and possibly leaving unsatisfied. Utter anything that sounds like you're telling him what to do? Let's leave getting beat up to Endo, mkay?

Shuhei Suzuri

I think he finds fulfillment and joy in his hobbies and that's all he needs. Being able to cook for people and enjoy his games gives him the satisfaction he was missing when he was in extreme poverty. I'm sure he wouldn't really mind losing his virginity either way, but it's definitely not on the forefront of his mind. A consistently full belly and a couple video games is good enough for now.

Choji Tomiyama

He thinks everything is a game and plays entirely too much to just be fucking for real. And I think he's fine with that ! He's carefree and he's content knocking people's heads together. I do think you could probably get him to give losing his virginity a true shot if you compare him to Umemiya or make it a competition, though. But who's gonna do all that to nut? (I really just added him to make one specific person mad. Let me know if it worked <3)

Honorable Mention : Togame Jo & Umemiya Hajime

Just cuz I want to be the one to take their virginity. I have no real reason LMAOOO.

© 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘰 hvly 2024. 𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧y.

[starry-eyed-wild-child]

🌻 tate langdon boyfriend headcanons 🌻

tate langdon x reader

💜 oh lord, buckle up guys, you're in for a wild one

🧡 he definitely fell first and 100% harder and you can't tell me otherwise

💜 we all know how tate is, he's very clingy and he's very very possessive of what's his. and that's how he views you, you're his and nobody else's

🧡 would definitely stay hidden at first, just so he could watch you for a bit. at this point, there's nothing about you that tate doesn't know

💜 when you finally meet, tate swears he could die all over again and he'd die happy

🧡 tate would definitely act more innocent than he actually is. this boy knows how to cry on command and he will use it to his advantage, don't think just because he loves you that he wouldn't

💜 if anything, he does it because he loves you and he can't have you leave him like violet did

🧡 i hope you like nirvana, because tate will not listen to something that you like if he doesn't enjoy it. he's not very good at that

💜 tate always needs to be touching you. all the time. whether it's an arm around you or holding hands, this boy craves physical touch and to be the centre of your attention

🧡will probably try his best to get your friends to stop hanging around you so he can have you all to himself. will deliberately scare them to stop them from coming to the house

💜 would also certainly lie about ever doing such a thing were you to confront him about it

🧡 tate wouldn't ever want you to ever leave the house., if he had his way that is. would hate it if you chose to spend time with other people

💜 like what did they have that he didn't?

🧡 he would 100% be the type that watches you even when you're asleep. or anytime, really.

💜 would definitely want you to commit suicide, so that you can be with him forever. you of course find this idea insane and don't think he actually means it

🧡 he does. he's 100% serious

💜 i can imagine that tate gives really good hugs though. the warm, bear hugs that you never want to leave because they make you feel so secure and safe

🧡 is very big on comforting you after a bad day. he'll listen to your rants, let you cry in your arms, whatever you need him for and he'll do it

💜 let's be honest though, it's probably just another way he gains your trust so that you won't ever think of leaving him

🧡 feels extremely guilty if he ever hurt you in any way, or upset you

💜would probably just disappear for a few days because he can't face the fact that he's hurt you. but obviously he comes back because the boy can't help himself

🧡 tate is your ride or die. he would die for you all over again if you asked him to and alternatively would kill for you if that's what you required

💜 makes silly little handmade gifts for you. tate can't leave the house so he has time to be creative

🧡 it's even better if it's raining outside when he makes them, it sets a nice vibe

💜 loves, loves halloween. the two of you would carve pumpkins together and sit for hours in your room telling ghost stories and drinking apple cider

🧡 if tate had his own way, you'd never meet his mother

💜you do eventually and she probably hates you lmao, but do we really care let's be real here

🧡 tate is the kind of boyfriend that would make a playlist for you as a present

💜 he'd try his hardest to make sure you don't find out about his past. which lasted about 2 months max because you're not stupid

🧡 violet, vivien and moira would try and protect you at all costs. they're like your three guardian angels, whether they decide to show themselves to you or not

💜 i imagine you'd actually get on with violet really well

🧡 this could go one of two ways with tate. he'd love it, both girls he'd loved were getting along, makes his life easier. or, he'd hate it. hate that you choose to spend time with the girl that broke his heart

💜 isn't really big on nicknames tbh, he thinks your name is the most beautiful word he knows, and so he wouldn't dream of calling you anything else

🧡 tate is 100% the little spoon, don't fight me on this

💜 absolutely lives for your affection. he thrives best on it

🧡 would be sweet but low-key toxic, so solid 6/10

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen deal with your period cramps

requested by anon: "Would it be ok for you to write : How would Seventeen react and help with bad period cramps ? (I am currently on my period and its killing me... I can barely stay up, cramps are hurting as hell, I have nausea, hell I feel the worst...)"

notes: tw for menstruation pain, reader therefore has a uterus

masterlist

seungcheol:

tbh he's kinda a little bit Clueless, but he tries his best. cannot fathom the amount of pain you're in, but he does his research and immediately jumps up to boil water for a hot water bottle the second you tell him you're on your period. is confused by the idea of pre-menstrual syndrome n thinks that it's very unfair: bc you can be in pain???? even before the actual menstruation itself???? that sounds terrible :((( always has his arms open for a hug

jeonghan:

spots its arrival better than you. can tell when your period is coming like some sort of seer. has a cupboard full of chocolates and snacks which he stocks up constantly and allows you to take your pick of whatever you feel like having when you're on your period. insists that you don't have to do anything while you're going through the worst of your cramps, tells you to just lie down w the hot water bottle he made for you n he'll do whatever you need okay? 

joshua:

you Need to tell this man whenever your period starts bc otherwise he'll get upset that his calendar is all messed up :(( i firmly believe shua is the typa guy to keep track of your schedules for you, even if your cycle isn't regular. does Everything you want. you wanna eat a whole tub of Celebrations? he's rooting for you. need to cry bc the world is just too frustrating? tell him what movie you wanna cry to, he'll stream it illegally if that's what it takes. will probably also end up crying w you, but hey, we love a supportive guy <3

junhui:

curses the menstruation gods every time you tell him you're having cramps again. is essentially trying to stuff you full of painkillers the entire day bc he hates the idea of you being in pain </3 wanted to buy one of those period cramp simulator machines to see how bad it was for you, ended up chickening out when you told him vv seriously that it was like being thrown into the pits of hell. isn't allowed near the kettle to boil water for you (due to previous Mishaps), so he'll give you a pillow to put over your stomach and hug you in his arms for warmth

hoshi:

is confused for all of two seconds every time you tell him you're having rlly bad cramps (again?? didn't you have them last month??) before it clicks in his head. coos and baby-talks to you, offering his shoulder for you to sleep on if the physical contact will help. builds you a pillow fort to get comfortable in practically every single time. you had a really bad headache one month, and so now he's constantly talking in a hoarse whisper when your cramps are bad

wonwoo:

he's not Entirely sure what to do, but he does know that period pain can often manifest itself in mood swings, so he's always extra caring and considerate around your time of the month. will Let himself be yelled at if you do end up getting frustrated, then will hug you and pat your hair to help you calm down after. makes hot water for all the hot water bottles that you're ever gonna need. 

woozi:

makes sure you take your painkillers on time, and also makes sure you eat. he's heard from his mom that loss of appetite can happen often during periods, especially when cramps are bad, and so he encourages you to eat foods with lots of magnesium and nitrates in it. will hug you if the cramps are really bad and you're practically crawling to him in tears. will probably hug you even if you're only pouting and talking in a sad voice tho, tbh. 

minghao:

he researched that milk chocolate and white chocolate increase cramps pain, and so now he only ever gives you dark chocolate that's 60% cacao and above. has encouraged you to take up meditation when you're not on your period, saying it'll help strengthen you. you're still not entirely sure it's working, but then again, it's better to try than not. swaddles you in fluffy blankets and cushions bc seungcheol stole the hot water bottle to help with his indigestion or something

mingyu:

he's a lil confused, but he means well. carries you bridal-style everywhere you wanna go. searched up the types of foods best to eat to help with period cramps, and cooks food with lots and lots of spinach in it. regardless of whether you like it or not, because it's good for you and makes you feel better. spoon-feeds you the soup he makes, asks if it's making you feel warm inside with his adorable bright eyes

dokyeom:

has a little corner in the bottom of his wardrobe full of sanitary pad packages, bc one time he panicked when you asked him to buy you some and practically cleared the whole shelf of them. also has like 3 boxes of chocolates stacked on top of them bc of that same time where he panicked and ended up buying too many. as a result, always has supplies whenever you need them. is a little clueless too, but he's willing to help w lots of hugs and warmth!! 

seungkwan:

Knows your menstruation cycle for you. frets if you're a few of days early or a few of days late. if you have an irregular cycle, then oh god he's analysing everything to see if there's any sort of pattern. ngl he's a little nervous of you when you're on your period, but he's always ready to open his arms for you to draw you in for a hug if you need. starts crying if you end up crying bc of the pain/ mood swings, bc he's an empath okay n he feels your pain so bad

vernon:

i get the feeling he's like. the hidden pro at dealing with cramps. you tell him that you're hurting, and he's already boiled the kettle to make you a hot water bottle, arms laden with snacks and blankets and do you wanna come into his room to relax and watch the new movie he's fixated on or do you wanna just go to your room by yourself and sleep? big encourager of sleeping through cramps, bc he swears it helps so much and actually. he is so right it really does

chan:

went through like five different brands of paracetamol with you during your previous cramps to see which one was the best n lasted the longest. steals the expensive chocolates from mingyu's stash bc really, the guy has far too much and it's more deserving to go to you when you're in pain and also pls share w him as a thankyou for getting them for you. offers to run you a bubble bath to help you relax, often forgets about the bath while he's doing other stuff and almost makes it overflow

request guidelines

[dontbesoweirdkira]

25. “This might sound weird, but I like it when you’re sick. Because then you let me take care of you.”

¡Yandere! Raiden x reader

A/N: y’all be neglecting yandere mk1 Raiden so I had to whip something up (tbh mk11 dark Raiden reigns superior. I love papa) but there’s so much you can do with his “sweet” personality wink wonk

Requests: always open

Masterlist

Raiden was more than desperate for your attention/affection. It has been a few weeks since he’s captured and taken you away for himself, yet you still haven’t come around to him.

You ignored most of his questions and attempts to talk with you. Even shunning away when he’d try to touch you, even if it was a light tap on your shoulder to get your attention.

He knows what he did was wrong. He shouldn't have taken you like that but you were slipping away from him. Your interest in him was depleting and someone else had your attention. He was guilty of letting his sinful desires rule over him.

That guilt wasn’t enough to stop him though. Raiden couldn’t help himself from manipulating you, playing up his innocent side to get what he wanted . He loved being the shoulder you cried on even though he’s the reason your lover was now gone and how soon, you’d be taken by him and locked up for his ownership. It was all so sick yet it filled him with a certain level of joy nothing else could replicate .

He manipulated, stalked and killed his way into your heart. You hated his guts for what he’s done to your life. Just thinking back and putting the pieces together is enough to make you feel nauseous.

You tried your best to not give him anything else he may have wanted from you. You never asked him for items and reluctantly took the necessities he offered. You knew any positive interaction, no matter how small, would just fuel his delusions more…but that all changed after you became sick.

When the virus first hit you, Raiden asked if you were doing okay because of how sickly you appeared but you denied saying that you were okay. You told him how he should just leave you alone and let you handle it yourself.

Deep down you prayed that it was just some common cold with a little fever but each day it became worse. Your entire body ached, your head spun and your throat was sore. You could tell without a thermometer that your fever was through the roof.

Your pride wanted to stop you from calling out your captor’s name but staying in this worsening condition was agony. You couldn’t handle yourself, you couldn’t even stand up to go to the bathroom. You unfortunately needed him.

“..raiden..?” You hesitantly called out

A few moments later he opened your room door, a bit confused to hear his name being called by you. That confusion quickly turned into concern when he saw you curled up on the ground with tears in your eyes.

“Y/n? Did you call me? Are you okay, you seem so unwell.”

Using a bit of your strength to sit up, you reached up your arms out towards him and cried

“Everything hurts, Ray. P-please make it stop.”

Hearing your voice crack and beg for him made Raiden even crazier for you. He knew it, he knew one day you’d come around. It just sucks you’re so sick when it finally happened though.

Without much hesitation, he picked you up and carried you in his arms to the master bedroom, the one you were supposed to be sharing with him.

There, a close eye would be kept on you around the clock and he could wait on you whenever you needed. It was an honor to be needed by you like this. Regardless of how often you asked for something or how tired he was, he did anything you asked without any complaints.

He brought you soups, medicines, food and whatever else you desired. He was so caring and generous to you, even despite how cold you’ve been towards him. It might’ve been the medicine or the feeling of guilt but you started letting up on him. Maybe he wasn’t the worse, besides lifeline at the moment. You found yourself cuddled up to him and craving his affection while you got better. Even pouting when he had to leave for something.

He ran his fingers through your hair and hummed. This moment was so perfect. This was all he ever wanted from you. He could take care of his darling like this forever. Your pouts, whines and clinginess sends him into overdrive every single time.

“This might sound weird, but I like it when you’re sick. Because then you let me take care of you.”

A chuckle escaped your mouth and you sarcastically spoke, not thinking much into your words…

“Yeah, you should savor this. It’s probably the only time I’ll ever be this cuddly towards you again.”

Suddenly, Raiden stopped massaging your scalp and grabbed a fist full of your hair. He you pulled up to his face. His eyes narrowed and he shifted his position yet his signature sweet smile was plastered across his face.

You could feel the light energy in the room switch and become heavy. An uneasiness in your chest raced through your chest as you waited for his next move.

Raiden didn’t appreciate your answer, he’s been so good to you. You’re going to take all this away from him after you get better?! He’s proven his love and devotion to you. He needed this, he needed you.

“Well then, maybe I should keep you sick like this so you’ll always need me. You’re just far too precious like this.”

His voice had a hint of playfulness to it, but it was overshadowed by something far more sinister than that.

“You’d let me take care of you like this forever, right?”

His smile dropped a little bit, his head tilted to the side and his eyes widened, almost like a tiny puppy waiting for its owner to accept its invitation to play with them.

You could tell that he genuinely wanted an answer. Not an honest one, but a sweet one he could replay in his head over and over.

You nodded and agreed.

“Who else would take care of me if you didn’t?”

The biggest smile came across is face as he almost exploded with joy. Cupping your face in the palms of his hands, he pulled you close, smashing a loving kiss on your lips. A soft nip of your bottom lip beckoned you to kiss him back, fearful of where another rejection might lead you complied

You were foolish to let your guard down and to not choose your words more carefully. He’s now gotten a taste of your love and he’s never going back from it.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

I love jack so so much he's perfect but tbh I do think it would've worked much more with the show if he was a destiel baby instead of lucifer's. and I'm not just saying that as a shipper or whatever I mean narratively it would've been a lot cleaner- and actually, I think it would've been super funny to no-homo them creating a baby together, like, literally all they would have to do is say "oh, when cas rebuilt dean after hell he accidentally left some grace tangled in his soul, and every time he's healed him since then it's been growing stronger until a nephilim was born". like yes the studio is homophibic etc etc but all the jokes they'd make about dean being spiritually pregnant would be very funny for me personally.

but ANYWAY, jack's story gets messy and convoluted and I think this would've been like...a simple fix. them worrying about him going dark side could be because they're worried how demon!dean and lucifer!cas affected him in development, the show LOVES bloodline drama, chuck's wanting abraham and issac 2.0 would've worked better this way, dean's storyline with him would be improved, bc rather than 'oh no I slowly but surely emotionally adopted the antichrist' like I think he would've had an easier time clocking his john-behavoir if it wasn't a question whether he was jack's dad or not. plus last time dean actively raised a kid he went to great lengths to keep the supernatural away from him, so it'd be interesting to see how he handles a kid he CANT possibly hide from this part of his life. it would make more sense why michael wanted jack as a vessel- yes obviously he wanted the nephilim power boost but also having him as part of the winchester bloodline, making him a PERFECT vessel he doesn't have to worry about burning up would add a lot. we could also use this argument for why lucifer is so interested in him if anyone actually liked that plotline in season 14 lmao. we know chuck hated cas and dean's relationship, could you imagine if he checked in and found out they made an unauthorized baby together💀 like that really would've given better context for why he hates jack so much. cas wouldn't need that whole weird brainwashing arc to wanna protect unborn jack, PLUS it could've been an interesting source of angst for him- he feels like he's failed once again, creating an abomination and putting dean in danger, but also still loves jack immensely. it'd be so good! also imagine how fucking stressed out heaven would be to find out a mini castiel is on the way. they wouldn't even wanna exploit that kid for power they'd be preemptively treating the headaches they know they're gonna get lmfao.

also. the casting directors literally put jensen and misha into a face morph app and cast the first actor they could find that matched the results. which would've made more sense if,,,,he was just Theirs. the comedy of dean and cas making a baby before either of them managed to admit their feelings to each other would be more fun then the "dude adopted a kid and pawns him off on his unwilling roommate's all the time and they eventually warm up to the kid" storyline we actually got. we also could've replaced some of the jack-dean angst from the show with "dean wants to connect more with jack but he feels shut out whenever cas is around bc he can't relate to any angel stuff so obviously jack's going to cas for help more!", which I think would be interesting!! how AWFUL dean and cas would feel that jack didn't feel safe enough to be a baby. dad!sam is still in full swing but he cares for jack right off the bat instead of trying to use him for his powers at first. lily sunder talking about how cas killed her kid bc he thought it was a nephilim and dean, who's already fully aware he's (spiritually) knocked up by cas is like 👹 inch resting cas-tee-elle tell me more. mary having a 'my baby has a baby' crisis. cas insisting jack looks nothing like him is a running joke but then at some point he explains its bc jack's 'true form' looks just like dean's soul....

ALSO- in a show where, canonically, the very first act of free will was cas falling in love with dean...the physical manifestation of that defeating chuck and taking his place as god? come ON.

[goosewriting]

Warmth

summary: now that reader got to look underneath the surface, they discover the not so pretty parts about being an inquisitor

relationship: inq!Cal Kestis x gn!reader

warnings: 18+, semi-graphic violence, mentions of blood, trauma, it gets pretty steamy, but still fade to black, implied sexual encounters, cal being emotionally constipated because what else is new, dom cal, soft cal, dirty talk? sorta?, talking about killing people, reader being a nerd, having a bath together, non-sexual nudity, reader gets choked, a lot is happening ok

word count: 12k … this one got away form me, i–

A/N: tbh when i started this i had no idea where i was going with it; this just took on a life of its own. i guess this one’s a little more grounded than the previous one, as reader and cal explore what it means to be an inquisitor. it’s a bit different to my usual stuff but i hope you like it nonetheless :’D

this can be read on its own, but it's technically a sequel to underneath!

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

It’s rather calm today, uneventful, as you sit at your office desk doing your work absent-mindedly.

You think back to your first night together with inquisitor Cal Kestis. It’s been some time since then, and you’re glad that there were more nights after that one.

Whatever is going on between you two, you try to be discreet about it. But it didn’t go unnoticed by others how Cal would approach you in the hallways to say hi or have a quick chat to check in on you. At first, you were nervous that it would affect your job in some way, negatively change your relationship with your boss and colleagues (not that you’re too close with them, but you still want to keep it professional and respectful with them). To your surprise though, the others seem to respect you more because of it. Apparently being able to hold your ground against an inquisitor isn't a small feat. ‘Hold your ground’... More like being wrapped around his finger. 

You smile to yourself as you think back to a couple of nights back. Your heart quickens and the tip of your ears burn as you remember the trails of kisses Cal left on your skin, setting your whole body on fire, accompanied by words of praise and adoration, words only for you to hear. 

Shaking your head to rid yourself of the slippery slope that is your current train of thought, you refocus on the screen in front of you and continue clacking away on the keyboard. You haven’t really defined or put a label on what you two have, but you know it’s special, and it is real. And you’re content with that for now. You like the current dynamic, where you have dinner together as often as your jobs will allow it, and you sleep over at his quarters every other day. 

However, lately there’s been a habit of Cal’s that worries you a bit. There’s been several instances now when you wake up in the middle of the night and your hand reaches out to find him, but his side of the bed is empty. Sometimes he’s not in the room at all. Other times you can see him standing at the window with his back towards you; his red hair seems to glow above his dark silhouette contrasting with the dim fiery glow coming from Mustafar, appearing from behind a veil of clouds. You know he knows you’re awake, but you stay still, pretending to be asleep. Whatever is weighing on his mind, whenever he feels ready, he’ll come to you. And you’d wait for as long as he needs.

Still, getting up so often at night starts to take a toll. You notice he’s more irritable, you see the dark bags under his eyes. But when you try to confront him about it, he dismisses it as unimportant, saying he’ll get better sleep that night. But it’s just the same thing over and over again.

One night after dinner, you’re both sitting on his couch, and you finally manage to pry out what has got him unable to sleep: nightmares. You don’t really understand what the problem is; everyone gets nightmares every once in a while. Even if he were to move around a lot, you’d try to calm him down and get him back to sleep.

“Do you know how inquisitors are made?” he asks seemingly out of nowhere while on the nightmare topic.

You take a moment to think about it, and realise that you do, in fact, not. So you shake your head.

“The Empire captures Jedis, to torture and remake them however they see fit”, he explains and stops from a moment to let it sink in.

“Part of them is lost forever,” he continues, his gaze moving to the side, looking at nothing in particular. “The other seems to be trapped, unable to move or escape. Jedis are trained to not give in to hate or anger. For inquisitors, those are the only things keeping them going. Ironically, feeling an enemy’s life force fade away… It makes you feel alive again.” He looks down at his hands. “It lets you feel something again at all: the rage, towards oneself and towards everyone who’s ever wronged you. It’s an addicting feeling, all-consuming. But much too short. So you seek it out again. And the Empire has plenty of enemies they need gone, so you comply.”

He pauses, allowing you to interject if it’s too much, but you remain silent, listening attentively. You’ve never heard this side of him, of how it felt being an inquisitor. 

“In those moments–” he goes on, clenching his hands into fists. “–feeding off of someone's desperation and pain that you can feel through the Force, it also opens a minimal gap for you to feel other things too. Things you thought you had forgotten or want to forget, like regret, fear and doubt. Or things you think you don’t deserve to feel anymore, like warmth. Happiness.” He pauses for a moment. “Love.”

You remain silent for a moment longer in case he wants to add anything else, but it doesn’t look like it. So you ask something instead. 

“And what do you remember in those moments?”

Cal closes his eyes and throws his head back slightly, taking a deep breath.

“The smell of the temple library on Coruscant,” he replies. “The rare sound of the clones laughing in the mess hall. How safe I felt with my master.”

You tilt your head with a slight grimace; it breaks your heart to hear he thinks he can’t have those things anymore because of what he is now. Or rather, what he was made.

“You still deserve all of that, the warmth and feelings of safety,” you say, and reach out to run your fingertips over his cheek, but he turns away.

“You don’t think I’m a monster? Like everyone else does?” he asks with a wry chuckle. “You know what I do. I don’t deserve any of it.”

Or you.

He doesn’t say the words aloud, but they hang heavy in the air between you two. 

“Okay, Kestis,” you say as you stand up, one hand stretched out towards him. “No moping, c’mon.”

He gives you a suspicious look, but accepts your hand nonetheless. You guide him to the washroom and run a bath for him, using one of your nicer bath bombs which you kept for special occasions. 

“Time for some pampering. You deserve it,” you enunciate that last part. “Clothes off.”

He narrows his eyes at you, unsure of what you’re scheming. You can’t help but laugh at the faint blush spreading on his freckled face as you start to strip yourself. 

“Now, don’t get any ideas. No funny business, I mean it. Just a bath,” you say, pointing a finger at him.

“Alright, alright,” he gives in with a low chuckle, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. 

Not long after, you’re both in the tub, with you sitting behind Cal, both enveloped by fragrant bubbles filling the warm water surface. You instruct him to lean back so you can wash his hair. Using your own shampoo instead of the boring, Empire-issue one, you lather up his hair, massaging his scalp, which earns you a grunt or two, and you can’t help a triumphant smile.

“Does it feel good?” you ask, and you get another grunt in response, so it must indeed feel good.

After you’re done with the hair, you tell him to turn around, and you squirt some soap onto a wash cloth. Starting at his neck, you scrub gently in circular motions, making your way down over his shoulder and his arms. Then you repeat the process on the other arm. As you lift it out from the thick layer of bubbles, you notice some reddening on his skin at his bicep. You take a closer look.

“Is that a new scar?” you ask.

“Yeah, don’t know where from though,” he says, and you get the impression that he does, but you don’t ask him about it. 

“Is that so,” you mumble, then lean in to place a soft kiss on it. “There, now it will heal faster.” 

Cal snorts and rolls his eyes, but his gaze remains soft.

“What, you don’t believe me?” you retort in mock offence. Then you start placing kisses on all his scars, the ones on his face, at his jaw and over his nose. The scars on his chest, his shoulders. You end by placing one last kiss on the tip of his nose, and grin up at him, but your face changes into worry when you see his expression. His brows are furrowed, as if in pain, his eyes shut tightly, his shoulders tense.

“Cal, are you okay?” you ask, and his hand comes out of the water to hold your face. You place your hand over his. He blinks a couple of times, and when he fully opens his eyes again, his features relax, and he smiles warmly. But what shocks you the most is that his eyes aren’t their usual yellow; they’re greenish blue. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. His gaze is not only a different colour, but also as vulnerable and tender as you’ve never seen before in him. 

“You’re too good to me,” he whispers, leaning in to place a single, lingering kiss on your cheek. 

Suddenly, his face contorts in pain again, this time more than before, and his hands shoot up to either side of his head, pressing onto his temples. When he opens his eyes again, they’re back to the yellow you know and love.

“My head is killing me suddenly,” he says through gritted teeth. “Can we wrap it up?” 

“Uh, of course, yeah,” you answer, making quick work of rinsing off both of you and getting some towels. 

Soon you’re both in bed, with your back against his chest, as he holds on to you like his life depends on it. Cal falls asleep first, but it’s rather restless. He keeps twitching and flinching, and with every sudden move, you’re dragged back out of your almost drifting to sleep. When he seems to finally have calmed down, you exhale deeply, eager to follow suit and drift into dreamland as well. Instead, Cal groans loudly, and you lean onto your side to look up over your shoulder. He looks distressed, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

“Cal, are you okay?” you ask, placing your hand on his shoulder to try and wake him, but you retrieve it quickly when his eyes shoot open, wild and angry and disoriented. 

“Prauf!” he screams, grabbing you harshly and rolling over so he’s straddling you, one of his hands fisting the sheets while the other goes to your throat, starting to choke you.

“C-Cal…!” you rasp out, holding onto his wrist to try and get him off of you. “You’re hurting me!”

He puts more weight into his hold, and you start seeing white dots sprinkled in your field of vision.

“It’s me, please,” you gasp, raising your hand to hold his cheek instead, and that seems to work. Slowly, his eyes seem to focus again, and his ragged breathing calms down slightly. When he finally sees you under him and understands what he is doing, he lets go and jumps off of you, off the bed, and slams his back against the opposite wall. You take a gulp of air, falling into a coughing fit. 

“Are you okay?” you croak when you can finally talk again, and you see him holding his head, trembling. 

“I- I’m sorry- This-” he starts, but can’t form a sentence. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he lets his hands fall back down to his sides. “I’m sleeping on the couch.” 

Cal leaves the room before you can protest, and the doors close behind him. Just like that you’re left alone, wondering what in the world just happened. Does it have something to do with his eyes earlier? And what, or who, is Prauf? 

— — —

The next morning, you’re awoken by the alarm clock on his night stand, and it takes you a couple of tries to turn it off. Sitting up on the bed with a yawn, you start remembering what happened the night before, and your hands comes up to your neck, where you can still feel some soreness from being choked like that.

You tiptoe out of the room, but just as you expected, Cal is gone. Taking a quick look at the clock, you yelp as you realise how late it is, and you hurry to the washroom to get ready. 

Once you’re ready to go, you take one last look at yourself in the mirror, and realise that your neck has visible marks, clearly in the shape of a hand. You grimace slightly, propping up the collar of your uniform as high up as it will go, and it covers up most of it. As long as you don’t look up or stretch your neck too much, you should be good. So you leave Cal’s quarters and head to your office. 

The whole day, you’re a bit distracted, hoping that Cal doesn’t feel too bad about what he did. You just want to help; sure, the nightmares are worse than you thought. But you’ll figure it out, together. 

You don’t get to see or hear from Cal the whole day though, or the next, or the one after that. For almost a week, he seems to be avoiding you completely. He doesn’t answer your holocalls or texts. You only catch the occasional glimpse of him leaving a room just when you’re entering. 

Tired of this game of cat and mouse, you decide to go find him. Instead, you end up cornered by the Ninth Sister. You’re slightly scared of her if you’re honest – no, scratch that. You are scared of her; she’s incredibly intimidating, not just by her sheer size and strength, but her presence in general. She always sounds mad, a deep frown etched into her face. So when she suddenly tells you to follow her, you don’t find it in you to refuse. To your surprise, she hunts down Cal as well, and brings you both to an empty hallway.

“Whatever is going on between you two: fix it!” she barks, then turns around with a scoff, muttering something about it being like scolding children. 

You look around, and there’s no one around, so you look up at Cal’s helmet visor, trying to find his eyes under it, but obviously only seeing your own reflection.

“Hey,” you greet him, giving him a smile to signal you’re not mad. “I missed you.”

His shoulders slump slightly, and he looks around as well. Instead of answering, he grabs you by your elbow and guides you some steps down the hallway to a maintenance shaft. He flicks his wrist, and the doors open, he shoves you both inside and closes the doors.

Only now does he take off his helmet, and you can’t suppress a gasp, horrified at the sight. His hair is sticking out everywhere, the bags under his eyes are the darkest you’ve ever seen, and he not only has new scratches on his face, he also a black eye that seems to be a couple of days old. 

“What happened to you?” you ask, and you’re aware that it’s not a great opener, but you’re genuinely worried. Your hands gingerly run over his face as you inspect the damage. Cal shrugs nonchalantly.

“I’ve been distracted lately and it affected my performance,” he says with a wry smile. “So they had to correct my bad behaviour.”

You take a moment to make sure you’re properly understanding what he’s implying. By the look in his eyes, kinda sad and a bit ashamed, it seems you are.

“Do you get corrected often?” you ask carefully.

“Sometimes. When I get greedy,” he answers. You think back to your conversation about being an inquisitor, and remember how he said that he only got a glimpse back into his own heart when he was out there, doing horrible things. Does that mean he was defying orders just to be able ‘to feel something at all’? 

“Do you usually get corrected… after being with me?” you ask this time, almost scared of the answer. 

“It’s not your fault,” he indirectly answers your question, taking your hands in his. “Being with you is just as addicting as being out there. I’m just… weak like that, I guess.”

“Oh, Cal,” you whisper, giving his hands a squeeze. “The warmth you yearn for and that you seek, it may make you feel vulnerable, and you think that makes you weak, but all it does is make you real. You’re real, Cal, and so am I. And I don’t want you to get hurt. You don’t need to be greedy; I’m here, I always will be. You deserve that warmth, and if you’ll have me, I’ll give you all of it.”

His brows rise slightly in surprise, and you realise you basically just professed your love for him. Heat erupts on your face and in your panic, you grab onto his collar and kiss him, hard at first, but then you’re both moving in unison with a rare softness you don’t always get to experience from him. 

Suddenly he pulls back with a pained grunt, and he slides down the wall until he’s sitting on the floor. 

“Cal, are you okay? What’s wrong?” You kneel down beside him, and you lift his face to look at him. Once again, you’re met with blue eyes, this time like an ocean about to erupt into stormy waves. He’s close to tears, and he looks so scared, so small, it breaks your heart. If only you knew how to mend the broken pieces of his soul, you’d kiss them all better if you could. 

“I’m sorry I stayed away so long,” he suddenly says, hugging you into his chest. “I just couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you again. What if I don’t snap back in time? What if I do something worse?”

You rack your brains for something reassuring to say, and finally land on something.

“You know, as a kid I used to have this recurring nightmare,” you start, hoping to not only get your point across better with your story, but also getting him out of the rabbit hole he was about to go down. “I kept dreaming that my parents abandoned me. We would all be together somewhere, and I looked away for a moment, but by the time I turned back around, they were gone. And I would feel so alone, and full of dread, I felt like I was going crazy. I’d often wake up screaming and crying.”

You take a moment to gauge his reaction; talking about your pasts has been kind of a taboo topic between you two. He openly said once that he doesn’t want to talk about his past, which you respect, but it also meant he never asked questions about yours. Maybe he’s scared to know more because it would reawaken memories of his own. Maybe he just doesn’t want to pry. Maybe he doesn’t care. Either way, you’re now crossing that invisible line and hope it won’t scare him away completely.

“No matter how much my parents reassured me that they wouldn’t abandon me, it always played out the same,” you continue your story. “One night, I was so scared of having the nightmare again, that I straight up refused to go to sleep. That’s when my mother told me this: sometimes, dreams are just your mind and soul processing something that actually happened. But other times, it’s the mind’s way of trying to find closure for something that hasn’t happened. So even if the dream isn’t nice, you have to wait until the end. Only then will your mind be able to tell you what it needs, even if it’s something you don’t want to hear.”

Wiping the silent tears off of Cal’s cheeks, you give him a comforting smile.

“And I know this doesn’t compare in any way to the nightmares you have,” you say. “But, maybe, you just need to let them play out. What if it’s your subconscious trying to tell you something and you cut it off before it has a chance to? What if… it’s the Force trying to tell you something important?”

This seems to click in some way with Cal, and he takes a moment to think over your words.

“Whatever happens, when you wake up you won’t be alone. I promise”, you assure him.

Cal is about to say something, when his eyes shut closed and he claims his head hurts again. He blinks a couple of times, holding his head, and his eyes switch between greenish blue and yellow. 

“Don’t block it out,” you encourage him, removing his hands from his temples and bringing them to your face instead. “I take back what I said earlier. You can be greedy, but not out there. Be greedy with me. Take everything you want, Cal. As much as you need. It’s all for you.”

He blinks one, two more times, his eyes fully reverted to their usual fiery yellow, and the fear from before is completely gone, now replaced with something sharp and dark.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he says through gritted teeth, his whole body trembling in anticipation or self-control, maybe both.

“But I do,” you reassure him, climbing over his legs so you’re sitting on his lap, and gently press your forehead against his. “That yearning is eating you up from the inside. You’re hurting. It doesn’t have to be like that.”

Cal’s hands wander from your cheeks over your shoulders, down your arms, until they rest on your waist. He looks up at you, still a little unsure, and you roll your hips against his to further encourage him and tell him it’s okay. You both can’t help the low moans that escape your lips.

“It’s okay, Cal,” you whisper, leaning in and stopping just above his lips, where you feel his shaky breath. “Consume me until there’s nothing left.”

That seems to snap him back to his usual, more dominant self that he is in intimate moments like this. Adjusting your position in his lap, he presses your body into his, kissing you passionately. It’s just as intense as your make-out sessions usually are, but there’s something else lingering as well. You can’t quite describe it, but it’s like there’s a newfound meaning behind his actions. As if he is trying to pour his whole being and soul into it in an attempt to reach you. And it does. In fact, he’s using all his senses, Force included, to breathe in all of you, and his presence envelops you like it never has before.

You start undoing both your uniforms, and you pull back for a moment to take a much needed breather. 

“You’re doing great,” you pant, not really thinking about what you’re saying as you try to undo the clasps and buttons as fast as your trembling hands will allow. “Such a good boy for me.”

To say that his whimper takes you by surprise, is an understatement. You stop your movements and pull back a little more to take in the image before you: Cal’s partially exposed chest is rising and sinking rapidly, a violent blush spreading from the tip of his ears all the way down to his sternum. His usual confidence and cockiness seem gone, and biting his bottom lip, hair completely dishevelled, he gives you a flustered look you’ve never seen on him.

“Don’t call me that,” he breathes, trying to pull you closer again so you can’t look at him.

“Call you what, a good boy?” you tease him, and his whole body tenses up under you as he takes a sharp breath. “I think you rather like it, no? Being such a good boy for me. C’mon, keep going.”

He relentlessly attacks your neck just the way he knows you like, biting and licking and nibbling along your pulse. 

“Ah, kriff, these uniforms, I swear–” you curse under your breath into Cal’s temple, trying to rid yourself of your jacket without losing contact with him. You only manage to push it down to your elbows. Cal’s hands slip under your shirt and start wandering up and up. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, goosebumps erupting on your arms and back as you arch yourself into his hold. Another moan escapes your throat as he bites down hard, immediately licking the darkened spot. You finally manage to shake off your jacket and–

Your comlink beeps and you groan. Cal seems unbothered, as he’s still going, now moving back up to finding your lips, tongue darting out to meet yours. After blindly tapping around to find the device in a pocket of your discarded jacket, you take it out and look at the caller ID. Your blood freezes when you recognise it to be your boss. Right, you’re in a maintenance shaft half naked with the inquisitor when you should be at your office. 

Shoving Cal away begrudgingly, he growls in annoyance, about to flick the still beeping comlink out of your hand.

“Wait, wait, it could be important,” you say through heavy breaths, trying to calm yourself down enough to sound somewhat normal. Cal merely pushes his face into your chest with a defeated sigh. After clearing your throat, you take the call.

“Took you long enough, officer,” your boss says in a clearly annoyed tone that makes you cringe slightly.

“Sorry, Sir, I was, uh, occupied,” you stumble over your words and mentally slap yourself. Cal doesn’t even try to hide his snort at your response. You smack him lightly on the back of his head.

“Whatever you were doing, officer,” the man says in a way that he knows exactly what you were doing and with whom. “Prepare your things and get ready, you’re to leave for an off-planet mission by tonight.”

“Yes, Sir,” you reply, instinctively straightening your back.

“You’re to meet us at the hangar by 1900 hours. And officer,” he adds with a sigh, his voice adopting a strange tone of embarrassment, almost. “If inquisitor Kestis happens to be there, tell him to come as well.”

“Understood, Sir,” Cal replies with no qualms, and you’re petrified. 

After one more sigh and some unintelligible curses, your boss hangs up. 

You blink a couple of times, trying to recover from the shock. Great, now your boss knows for sure what you were up to. 

“We’re not done here,” Cal says, as he places one last kiss on the corner of your mouth and stands up, helping you get on your feet as well. “We’ll pick up where we left off later.”

“At a different location though, I would hope,” you chuckle as you two get ready to leave the little room.

After a quick detour to the nearest washroom, where you both fix your messy hair and uniforms (his smirk as you’re barely able to cover all the hickeys with your propped up collar will be the end of you), and one to your office for you to pick up some supplies, you make your way to the hangar. A group of people is already waiting for you two; two purge troopers, two stormtroopers of your own squad your boss stand next to Cal’s ship, a zeta-class shuttle: black, sleek and menacing. 

After the debrief, you review the data on your holopad. It’s a mission on another planet, and you’re always excited to get one of those, as you don’t get to go out “into the field” often. In this case there’s a possible rebel cell, but their transmissions are set up in a way that decoding them from the Fortress Inquisitorius would take a considerable amount of time, so it’s quicker to get close to the base and physically infiltrate their comms system to get the information you need. Additionally, there’s been a tip about a possible Jedi being hidden within the rebel group, that’s why they’re sending an inquisitor as well. You’re to stay on the ship working on the decryption while they do their thing.

The ship takes off, and once you’re far enough, you make the jump into hyperspace. During the trip, both the purge troopers and Cal sit unnervingly still, probably power napping and saving their energy for the possible fight ahead. Your two troopers are in the cockpit flying the ship and having a chat, so you have a lot of time for yourself. You mainly work on preparing your equipment, revising your software and getting all the tools you’d need ready. It doesn’t take long for you to have everything prepped; the moment you’d enter the planet’s atmosphere, your scans would tell you the rebel’s comm system location within seconds, and once you land, you can head right out to hook up your own tech. There’s still a good portion of waiting after you’re done though, and with the constant hyperspace humming, you find yourself dozing on and off, replaying the earlier conversation you had with Cal in your mind, wondering how to act and what to say once you get back to base. 

After what feels like an eternity, the piloting troopers finally announce you’re here. The drop out of hyperspace shakes you slightly, and as you look out the window, you see your goal: a small planet on the very edge of the Outer Rim; you’ve never been this far away from the Core Worlds, and as you see the vast expanse of pitch black void surrounding it, you notice the lack of starts in the distance, and you almost let yourself be swallowed by the dread that runs a cold shiver down your spine. Shaking your head, you rid yourself of any distracting thoughts and get to work. As expected, your holopad is already beeping, alerting you that it found your target location. You stand up from your seat and approach the cockpit, for which you have to walk past Cal. His helmet visor is aimed at the floor in front of his feet, and he doesn’t look up as you walk by. For all you know, his eyes could be trained on you though; there’s no way to know for sure. 

Standing between the pilot seats, you show one of the troopers the coordinates on your holopad, and he punches them into the console. Holding onto the back of the seat, you stand there as the ship approaches the area you marked, and the landing is swift and almost motionless. So this is what the good ships feel like, you think to yourself. And the troopers seem to be thinking the same, if the slow whistle coming from one of them is anything to go by.

You turn around to go inform the purge troopers you’re here, but Cal is already standing in front of you, blocking your exit from the cockpit. 

“My men and I will look for our target, you two stay here,” he says as he points at the two stormtroopers. Then he gestures towards you with his head. “The officer is in charge while I’m gone, and better be unharmed when I come back, understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” they respond in unison. 

Cal seems to linger on your form for a second longer, then turns on his heels. The cargo door opens and the smell of humid, tropical air reaches your nose. Cal and his troopers take off, and you nod to yourself with an ‘alright’, as you get to work. Connecting a couple of wires here and there, you call one of the troopers to you.

“We need to bring this–” you point at your contraption. “–to the base of this structure.” You show him the red dot on the holomap at the edge of a water body. “That seems to be the backbone of their communication system. There have to be wires that we can hook the machine into.”

“Understood.”

He picks up the machine and starts heading out. You gather a couple more tools, throw them into your bag and sling it over your shoulder. As you approach the cargo door, you turn to the other trooper one last time.

“You stay here and hold down the fort. Keep the usual channels open for us and for C- Inquisitor Kestis.”

“Yes, Sir!” 

And off you go.

After a while, you get to the point at the cliff as indicated by your holomap. Both you and the stormtrooper stand at the ledge, carefully looking down. At the base, a broad river runs along the cliffside. Scanning the rocky walls with your eyes, you find what you’re looking for.

“Jackpot,” you say, pointing at something, and the trooper follows your line of sight. “That’s our transmitter.”

It’s essentially a big metal box built into the side of the cliff, with an antenna on one side and a rather wonky satellite dish on the other, partially hidden under a rocky overhang. You’d have to climb down quite a bit to reach it.

“We didn’t bring any climbing equipment,” the trooper points out. 

“We improvise,” you retort with a shrug.

You take the rope out of your bag and tie one end to a nearby tree that looks sturdy enough, and the other around your legs and waist.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Sir,” the stormtrooper starts. “If anything happens to you, Inquisitor Kestis will–” He’s stopped by the stern look you shoot him. 

“I know how to take care of myself, trooper,” You say firmly. “Now, help me get down there.” 

You plug in one of the thicker wires into your machine, holding the other end between your teeth. The trooper helps you climb down the cliffside step by step, slowly letting you down. Once you reach the desired point by the transmitter, you take the wire out of your mouth.

“Here’s good! Hold it there!” you call. A  grunt is all the response you get. 

You plug in the wire, and your holopad starts beeping, starting to intercept the messages. But they’re not written words, voices or even proper sounds, it just sounds and looks like static. 

“Guess I have to calibrate my receiver,” you think aloud. “Pull me up!”

Climbing back up the way you came, you untie the rope the moment you find your footing again, which left a slight stinging sensation at the back of your legs, and you absent-mindedly rub your bum to alleviate the sensation. You notice the trooper giving you a strange look, and heat spreads on your face.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say as you straighten up, looking for an order to give. “Go, uh, go collect the rope.”

“Yes, Sir…” he responds with a snicker.

You roll your eyes, but you’re not really mad at him. That must have just looked really funny. Either way, time to get to work: you kneel down next to your contraption, holding your holopad next to it, adjusting some levels here and pressing buttons there. But no matter how much you try to isolate the signal, it still doesn’t get cleaner or clearer.

The trooper places the neatly tied up rope next to your bag which you left on the ground, then holds up his blaster, undoing the safety. You look up at him in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” 

“I’m not sure…” he answers. “I have a bad feeling about this place. Let’s get what we came for and go back to the ship.”

“Okay…” you stretch out the word, unsure what put him on edge like that. Yes, there’s known aggressive fauna here, but all in all the planet is abandoned, there's no particular danger. Not documented, anyway. You keep looking at the static on your holopad, trying to make sense of it. But the more you see, the less random it seems. That’s when it dawns on you. 

Suddenly, you furiously type away on your pad, trying to translate the encoded message, but it’s just gibberish. You tilt your head in confusion, revising your translation; it should be right. But it isn’t. Why?...

“Oh!” You say after a few more seconds, getting up to your feet so quickly that it almost makes you dizzy. “Oh, this is actually quite brilliant. Ah, these rebels sure are getting crafty. Come here, you’re gonna love this.”

The stormtrooper shoots one last look over his shoulder into the vegetation, then turns to you, still holding tightly onto his blaster.

“You ever heard of Dadita?” you ask, not bothering to hide your excitement.

“No?”

“Of course you haven’t,” you say with a click of your tongue. “It’s an ancient Mandalorian code consisting of short and long bursts of static, where each combination stands for a letter. But these rebels combined it with Mon Calamari blink code, which is the same principles but with light sequences. They used Dadita static, but the sequences actually correspond to the blink code letters. No wonder back at HQ they thought we couldn’t intercept proper comms. It’s made to look like static.”

“Uh-huh,” is all you get out of the trooper, still nervously looking around.

“C’mon, this is cool,” you try, but to no avail. Sighing in defeat, you add, “You know what, nevermind. Let’s just go back.”

At least Cal will show interest in your find. Or so you hope. Speaking of, you wonder how he’s doing. You know you shouldn’t ping him as it could interfere with his mission, but you just hope they made it back safely to the ship by the time you’re there.

“Contact the ship, will you? And tell them we’re going back,” you instruct. The trooper presses some buttons on the console on his wrist.

“Ground team to ship, do you copy?”

The only answer is static.

You look in the direction of the ship as the trooper tries again, and you feel something cold on your nose, then on your cheek. You look up; it’s starting to rain. Great. Your machine shouldn’t have trouble with a little rain, but you still don’t feel great about it. You kinda made it up on the spot, so there are a couple of exposed wires. 

“We need to go get something to cover the receiver. Any answer yet?” you ask, and it’s really starting to come down now. You have to blink several times to get the water out of your eyes.

“No,” he responds, nervously looking around. “I told you, something is wrong.”

“Okay, no need to panic,” to try to calm him down; his demeanour is starting to make you nervous as well. “Let’s just quickly go back; I'm pretty sure I saw a piece of canvas that we can use to–” You sling your bag back onto your shoulders as you speak, but the inertia of the bag makes you lose your balance for a second, and with the ground now turning into mud, your boot loses its grip on the ground, making you slip and your knees give out under you. 

“Officer!” You hear the stormtrooper call as he stretches out his arm in a vain attempt to catch you, but you’re already falling backwards off the cliff. Seemingly in slow motion, the trooper and the treeline disappear from your view, being replaced by a grey, cloudy sky. You close your eyes, feeling the droplets on your face and the air rushing by your ears, and you’re strangely calm. All you can think of is Cal.

Are you okay? I wish we had properly made up before this. 

When your back hits the water of the river at the base of the cliff, your survival instincts are awoken all at once. The current is stronger than what it seemed from up the ledge. You swim with all your might, trying to stay afloat and taking gulps of air whenever you can. it isn't long until your arms are burning from the sudden effort, and you scan your surroundings, desperate to find something to hold onto. The river seems to open up and away from the cliffside. Here, the shores are filled with mangrove-like trees, their roots thick and plenty, some of them stretching out like low-hanging branches over the water surface. You try to hold on to one, but your gloves don't provide much of a grip, so you take them off and ditch them. Nearing the next big branch, you ready yourself and throw your upper body out of the water so that you can hold onto it with both your arms, and it works. Slowly, you inch closer and closer to the tree trunk, until you reach the shore. Letting yourself fall onto the mossy ground, you take some deep breaths trying to calm down your breathing, racing heart and aching limbs.

You pat your uniform and conclude that you lost your bag somewhere along the way, which had your holopad and all your equipment. You sit up and wipe the back of your sleeve over your eyes, but the constant rain keeps hitting your face. You pop open the collar of your uniform and it feels like ridding yourself of a chokehold. The uniforms were never particularly comfortable, being on the stiff side, but drenched like this, it’s much worse.

Looking around, you stand up; you have no idea where you are or where the ship could be. Giving yourself one more pat down, you find your comlink in one of your zipped up pockets, and thank the Maker under your breath. 

“Hello? Does anyone copy?”

You can hear static, so you assume that it is working, but it’s the mic or speaker, or both that are ruined. At least from the ship they should be able to locate you with it. 

A gust of wind makes you shiver slightly; despite it being a rather tropical climate, being completely wet does make you feel the dropping temperatures that will probably await you at night. In fact, it’s starting to get dark. 

They’ll find me. It’s fine. I just have to make sure I’m alive by the time they get here, hah, you tell yourself with a wry chuckle. 

First thing you have to do is seek shelter from the relentless rain. Hugging yourself, you cringe at the sensation of your feet against the wet boots, but you still take step after step into the vegetation, looking for some place to dry off. Completely lost and giving up on the idea of ever getting out of this maze by yourself, the only information you keep in your head is the direction of the river; you'll be needing water after all. For now, you could just drink rain water though, so you venture further and further away into the forest. With the dense branches sporting big, round leaves, they already stop part of the rain, but not enough. Finally, you come across a big tree, the roots lifted into the air so that they form something akin to a cage, and the ground beneath it is dry; that's exactly what you need.

Hurrying through the gaps between the roots, you take off your boots, jacket and trousers, giving everything a good squeeze to wring as much water out as possible. Left in your underwear and a black short sleeve shirt, you wonder what to do next. You’d need food soon. You sigh, leaning back onto the rough surface of the tree.

“This is exactly why I wanted an office job,” you say bitterly. So much for being excited about a mission ‘on the field’. 

For now, you decide to wait out the rain, which could hopefully stop just as suddenly as it started, and you just sit there, holding your comlink in your hands, looking at it intently. 

After a while, the rain finally seems to subside, and while your clothes are nowhere dry, you don’t exactly want to explore a jungle half naked. So you put your trousers back on, which takes a while, as the wet fabric keeps sticking to your legs. After what feels like another workout, you finally zip them up, and put on your equally wet boots. Oh, how you crave a warm shower right now. 

Taking the jacket into your hands, you feel the wet fabric and decide to leave it. Your skin dried much faster, so it was better to be a little cold without a jacket than very cold with a drenched one. Placing your comlink into your pocket, you go foraging for some sort of fruit or berry. After the rain and with no equipment, you doubt you’d be able to start a fire to cook anything, so you have to find something you can eat raw. 

As you’re picking some reddish purple berries from a bush and contemplating if you can eat them, you hear some rustling behind you. Dropping the berries and immediately turning around, you’re met with a human and you notice several things. First of all, they’re holding their side, which is bleeding a lot, their clothes stained in a dark red. Second, you see the lightsabre in their hand, emitting a blueish hue, its electric hum the only sound aside of their ragged breathing. And third, you see the plea in their deep brown eyes, silently asking you for help. Almost in the same moment, you also see their eyes dart down to your uniform and back up to your own, realisation spreading on their face. And you’re conflicted.

You know who’s after them. You know what’s going to happen. So it’s not like you don’t want to help; you can’t. If the circumstances were different, would you help? You realise you don’t want to know the answer to that. Either way, you're unarmed, hungry and shivering, so you can't really put up much of a fight against them either. 

“I'm sorry,” you say instead, and you're not really sure which part you're apologising for. You're about to take a step to the side and gesture them to go past you, but you hear footsteps approaching quickly.

The stranger winces in pain as they try to take another step, but collapse onto the ground, the sabre retracting with a whirr. They look up at you again, this time enraged, a deep frown etched into their face, and you're about to say something, but a modulated voice is quicker.

“Officer, what are you doing here?” It’s the purge trooper.

“I- I fell,” you say sheepishly. He scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head.

“Well, good job stopping our target. It’s a slippery one, this one.”

The trooper picks up the sabre, and turns around the Jedi onto their back with his boot, earning a pained grunt. From behind him emerges Cal out of the vegetation, and you’re horrified at how he looks: helmet gone, hair wild, and face partially covered in blood. If it’s his own or not, you can’t tell. He looks frustrated and beyond angry. You’re about to say something, asking if he’s okay, but the sharp look in his eyes freezes you in your spot. 

“It’s the end of the line now, Jedi,” he spits through gritted teeth, and holds his red lightsabre a little tighter. He shoots you a quick look, then at his trooper, and motions with his head to the side. The man nods and turns to you, grabbing you by your bicep, and starts dragging you away. 

“Wait, wait!” You try to turn back around, but the trooper’s grip keeps facing you forward. When you reach a thick tree, he slams your back into it rather harshly, and tells you to stay there. He doesn’t move from in front of you, holding onto his electrostaff with both hands. It emits an electric crackle of purplish hue, clearly warning you not try anything funny. And to be honest, you don't have the energy right now, so you just rest the back of your head against the bark. You can hear the stranger starting to plead for their life, trying to get under Cal’s skin, saying something about a time before being an inquisitor, but Cal is fresh out of patience, and the Jedi chokes on their words. Their laboured breathing fills this corner of the jungle, and after the sound of a lightsabre swinging and the distinct sizzling of flesh, there is silence.

The purge trooper stretches his neck to see past the tree, then gestures to you with a quick nod.

“Let’s go,” he says, and you comply.

Cal stands in front of the body, partially shielding it from your view, and you walk past him as well, following the trooper. As you three make your way back, you notice there's no trace of the second purge trooper that had left with them.

“The other one's dead,” Cal says before you can even ask, and gets handed the Jedi’s lightsabre, which he clips onto his belt. “Why are you down here? And where's your jacket?” You sigh.

“I fell,” you say, and it still sounds as stupid as it did before. “I slipped, and fell down the cliff. I left my jacket by the river. But before that I did get the receiver hooked up and I know how to decrypt the messages. Do you know if my squad made it back to the ship?”

“Don’t know, our comms don't really seem to work down here.” He suddenly stops and looks around, gesturing to a different direction, and the purge trooper takes off through the bushes. Cal turns back to you, and you shoot him a questioning look. 

“You fell from a cliff? Just what were you doing.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly distressed by your reckless actions. “I pinged you several times, and you didn't answer. I knew it probably was the signal being jammed but… I thought that– What if–”

“Hey, it's okay. I'm okay.” You place your hand on his chest and that's when you notice several gashes on his uniform. “Are you okay, though?”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, his worry replaced by exasperation.

“You really shouldn't have–”

He stops in the middle of his sentence and takes a quick step back away from you as both your heads turn towards the sound of approaching footsteps. The purge trooper approaches Cal and hands him his helmet. Or what's left of it, anyway. The visor is broken, the part that sits above the jaw seems to have been sliced off entirely, and there are several dents on the other side. Your eyes meet Cal’s again in worry, but he avoids your gaze entirely. 

“Let’s move.”

The trek back to the ship is quick, as per the relentless pace of the two men. There are some obstacles on the way though, where you need a little help. When crossing a river with a particularly strong current, you lose your footing on the rocky riverbed, and find yourself holding onto the next best thing, which happens to be the purge trooper. He lets you hold him as he guides you across to the other side, where he quickly shakes you off. You wonder if he’s really that uncomfortable to be close to you, and you make a mental note not to ask purge troopers for anything in the future, especially if it entailed physical contact of any kind. But what you didn't see were the Force daggers that Cal was stabbing into the back of the poor man’s head.

Not long after the river, you come face to face with an abrupt slope with a flat, rocky surface. It’s almost like a wall, leading to the plateau above. It’s too high to jump and too even to climb, so you wonder how you will get up there. Once again, Cal seems to read your mind, as before you can even ask, you see him essentially levitating up and onto the ledge above. Now that's a handy Force trick. You expect him to throw down a rope or something for you to hold onto, but instead, you're being lifted off the ground by an invisible force, as is the trooper next to you. Once you reach the top, you’re gently placed back on solid ground, while the trooper is let go far earlier, which he is unprepared for, so he falls forward and onto his knees with a grunt. But he gets back up onto his feet without complaints or remarks, simply dusting off his thighs and continuing the way back to the ship. You want to scold Cal a little for being unnecessarily mean, but the harshness still etched into his face, now stained with dry and flaky patches of blood, refrains you from making any comments. 

Finally, you make it back to a place you recognise, where the ship isn’t far away. You run off first, despite your muscles screaming in pain to finally give them some rest. The cargo door is closed, and you bang your hand on it twice.

“Open up!” you order, and the ramp opens with a mechanical hiss, then gets lowered down. You quickly climb up before it even completely reaches the ground.  

“Officer!” both stormtroopers exclaim in unison and in apparent relief when they see you alive and in one piece. One of them runs off to the equipment storage to get a blanket for you, and you gladly accept it. Only now do you realise how cold and stiff your whole body feels. 

“Have you been intercepting the messages?” you ask, grabbing a spare holopad to log into your receiver’s software to start decrypting. 

“Yes, and as you said, it’s a coded transmission made with static bursts” the first trooper explains, the one you had been on the cliff with. “I covered up the receiver with the canvas as you asked, and we’ve been monitoring it this whole time, but we didn’t know how to decrypt it without you…”

“That’s okay, that’s my job after all.” You playfully shove your elbow into his side. “I’m just glad you’re both alive.” You smile genuinely at them, and you wonder if they're smiling back at you from under their helmets as well. The Empire may think that stormtroopers are easily replaceable, but this is your squad. And you intend to take care of them.

You take a step back to take a seat and start decrypting, but your back bumps into something, or rather someone. You turn around just in time to see Cal gesture to the purge trooper, who once again merely gives a short nod, then heads to the cockpit.

“Let’s get out of here,” is the last thing you hear him say before the cockpit and cargo doors close with a hiss, and the engines start.

Cal and you just stand there for a moment, looking at each other. 

“Are you going to say something?,” you go first. “Because if not, I have work to do.”

You sit down and he doesn't stop you, instead taking a seat next to you. You type away on the holopad, letter by letter, and the message starts forming. By typing with both hands you’re quicker, but the blanket keeps slipping down from your shoulders. Cal notices and picks it up, wrapping your form in it properly again, and then leaving his arm around you so it would stay there. You give him a quick ‘thanks’, but don't stop what you're doing. For a moment you wonder if you're giving him the silent treatment, and if so, why, but you really have to get this thing decrypted, so you focus on that for the time being. 

At some point, Cal carefully places his head on your shoulder, and when you don't shoo him away, he properly gets comfortable. By then, you've written a program to automate the decoding. It's a bit crude and not your best, but it works. Now the decrypted message appears much faster, and it seems to be mostly correct, except for the occasional letter here and there. The message is still clear and understandable, though, and you can feel your focus and energy quickly depleting, so you decide it’s good enough for now. You set it up so that the live decryption gets sent back to HQ as your receiver feeds the rebel comms into it.

Setting down your holopad on the seat next to you with a yawn, you gently stroke Cal’s cheek.

“You awake?” you ask softly, and he hums.

“You done?” he asks back, and you hum as well.

Then you sit in silence again. The constant rumbling of the ship, combined with your adrenaline completely gone now, is all inviting you to the sweet embrace of sleep.

“We have to talk when we get back,” is the last thing you manage to mumble before drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

— — —

You wake up to your shoulder being shaken and the repeated call of your name. Your eyes shoot open and you sit up straight, immediately slumping back down with a wince as your whole body aches, both because of the whole river action earlier, and sleeping in such a weird position. 

Standing up with a grunt, you shiver as you look down at yourself: still without a jacket, your boots and trousers are stained with dirt, moss and sand. Your upper half must look even worse. Especially with the marks on your neck and who knows where else, courtesy of the inquisitor himself. So you grab the blanket and wrap it around yourself like a hooded poncho of sorts, hoping to hide most of your face and dirty clothes.

“I called earlier and they're waiting with a stretcher for you at the hangar,” Cal says as you try to hide both your head and legs, but the blanket clearly isn't big enough for that. You turn around with a raised eyebrow. “They're going to wrap you up and take you straight to medbay. So no one will see you.”

“How–”

“I may or may not have said that you might have a slight case of hypothermia.”

“We were on a planet with tropical climate,” you retort.

“I was convincing,” is all he says.

You can't question him further, as you feel the familiar sway of a landing ship. When it hits the ground with a ‘clunk’, everything happens so quickly: the cockpit and cargo doors open, and Cal suddenly picks you up bridal style. He places you onto the promised stretcher which is already waiting at the base of the ramp, and two med troopers quickly wrap you up in an emergency foil blanket. Just like that, you're taken to the medbay. 

After your check-up, they tell you that other than being a little shaken and dehydrated, you're fine. You're free to stay a little longer to rest up, but you can also leave if you feel like it. And just like that, you're alone in the little room. How Cal managed to convince them to give you the private medbay room, you still don't know. But at this point, you should probably be used to it. Inquisitors seem to get almost anything they want here. Albeit at a cost.

The cot is decently comfy, and you consider staying here for a couple more hours to nap and rest up, knowing you won't be interrupted. So you get comfortable with a sigh, and just as you find a good position to sleep in, the doors open. You groan, lifting the blanket over your face. 

“I thought you were asleep,” Cal says as the doors close behind him and he approaches your bed. 

“I was about to be,” you reply with a sigh and fold the blanket back down to sit up properly. You're about to ask him what he wants, when you see that he’s sporting several bandages, one on his jaw, and some on his torso, visible through the white shirt he’s wearing. 

“Are you okay?,” you ask and scoot over on the bed to make what little room you can spare for him to sit. However, he stays where he stands.

“Just a couple of scratches, I’ve had worse,” he replies, but it doesn’t make you feel better. “What about you?”

“Well, it’s not hypothermia,” you joke, in an attempt to ease the strange tension building between the two of you, but he doesn’t react. “I’ve basically been discharged. I was just about to nap, but… what is it?”

He looks at you as if he didn’t know what you mean. But the whole time, he’s been chewing the inside of his cheek. Clearly something is on his mind, and right now you don't have the energy to play the back and forth game.

“You want to tell me something, right? So, tell me.” You want to sound trusting, but it comes out harsher than you meant. He seems slightly taken aback.

“You said earlier you wanted to talk,” he retorts defensively. “And I understand.”

“What do you mean?”

He hesitates for a second.

“We don’t need to keep–” He looks for the right word. “–seeing each other.”

You pause for a moment, trying to dig deeper behind his words and try to get the real meaning out, but you're lost and rather shocked by his words.

“What do you mean?” you repeat yourself, alarmed.

He sighs, running his hand through his hair; he's nervous.

“I didn’t want you to see it,” he starts, avoiding looking at you. “It’s a side of me I didn't want you to see.”

“Oh,” you say, and you understand what he's getting at; the whole hunting and killing Jedi business. 

“What do you mean, ‘oh’?” he asks, his eyes finding yours and narrowing them at you. “Isn’t that what you wanted to talk about?”

“I mean, we can talk about it if you want to. I–” You sheepishly fidget with your fingers on your lap. You actually wanted to talk about how he treats his purge troopers, but this is far more important, you realise. “Yeah, let’s talk about that.”

Before he can inquire what you actually meant to talk about, you gesture for him to sit next to you. He still doesn’t move.

“Please sit,” you insist, and finally, he does. With the extra weigh dipping the mattress, you kind of lean into his side. You keep talking, both of you looking ahead. “Everything I said earlier, it still stands, you know.”

He doesn’t respond, so you continue.

“About the… warmth. And you being you and still deserving it.” You gingerly place your hand over his, and he momentarily flinches, but doesn’t pull away. “I’m not stupid, Cal. I know what you do. I’ve been aware of it from the start. And I simply don’t care. It’s not like my job is any better. My work also has… certain consequences, for others. And I’ve made peace with it.”

Finally you dare look up at him, his gaze still cast down. You can feel him trembling slightly though.

“You may be an inquisitor to others, but to me you're just Cal.” You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back. “Cal who makes pancakes with me. Cal who calls in a stretcher for me so I can save myself the embarrassment of my boss seeing me being a dirty, flustered mess. Cal who would stab someone else for looking at me the wrong way.”

He chuckles lightly at that. You reach out to cup his face, and make him look at you.

“But also the Cal who has nightmares. Cal who is sometimes scared out of his mind. Cal who asks me to stay the night because he doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. I want all of them.” You pause for a second, but you’re too tired to fight the question that’s been pestering your mind for ages now. “And all those versions of Cal… they give me warmth too. Right?”

His shoulders slump slightly with a sharp exhale.

“They do,” he finally answers in a voice so small you almost miss it. 

“Glad we could clear that up then,” you say just as softly, and close the gap to place a kiss to his lips, and he reciprocates so tenderly, holding your face like it could crumble any moment and disappear through his fingers. 

You want to pull back from the kiss, but his lips follow yours, capturing them once again. Cal climbs on top of you, pushing you back down onto the mattress.

“Don’t you want to get back to–” you try offering to move to a better location, but your words are interrupted by the squeal you let out as he pinches your side. 

“We have to make up for lost time,” he states, getting back to attacking you with kisses, each one more and more ferocious.

You hear the distinct hiss of the doors opening, but Cal is quick to close them again with a quick flick of his wrist. From the other side, you can hear the nurse complaining. 

“The officer is busy,” Cal calls over his shoulder, looking down at you the way a predator looks at its prey. “Come back later.” 

— — —

Later that night, after a shower and slipping into your comfiest PJs, you’re both in his bed. Cal lies on his back and you have your head on his chest, drawing random figures onto his shirt. 

“Are you sure about this?” Cal asks for the hundredth time. 

“Yes,” you reassure him, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can place a kiss on his nose. “I’ll talk you through it. Just, try to stay in the dream. It will all work out, I promise.” 

“Right,” he sighs, closing his eyes, and takes a deep breath. 

You get back to cuddling into his side, and the even drumming of his heartbeat does quick work of lulling you to sleep.

It doesn’t take long, however, and you wake up to Cal twitching again. His brows are furrowed, his hands holding onto the bedsheet for dear life, and you sit up next to him, caressing his hair and holding his hand, whispering words of encouragement.

Cal is back on Bracca, collecting scraps from the same ships that he used to call home back when he was a Padawan. That seems so long ago now. Lifetimes ago. And maybe it is. 

What would his younger self think of what he is now? 

Cal stands at the edge of the partially stripped apart engine, impossibly small against the size of the machinery. A voice calls out to him, and he turns around. The world around him spins, turning into a blinding white, and he shields his eyes from the sudden change with his hands. 

“Why are you here?” a trembling voice asks.

Cal looks up, meeting his own eyes, still a greenish blue, of his 13-year-old self. Disappointment and horror etched into his little face.

“What have you done?” another voice spits condescendingly.

Cal whips around, now looking at his master, Jaro Tapal, looking at him in disgust. 

“Cal!” 

He turns around again, starting to get dizzy, and his body freezes up, he can’t breathe. He’s standing at the edge of a scrapper platform now, surrounded by other people he used to know, but all their faces are blurred or scratched out. However, he can clearly see Prauf, his good friend Prauf, confronting the Second Sister. She holds her sabre at his throat, the blade sizzling in the rain. The red hue reflects in Prauf’s eyes.

Cal instinctively reaches out to his belt, expecting to find his own lightsabre, but it’s not there. He looks down at himself, and sees that he’s donning full inquisitor armour. 

“Kill him,” the Second Sister orders.

Finally, Cal seems to be able to move and breathe again, and he takes a huge gulp of air. 

“I said, kill him,” she repeats.

“No,” Cal says, and she slowly turns around to him. 

“No?”, she chuckles, but the venom spills out of her voice like an overflowing glass of spotchka. It burns. 

Suddenly, Cal is shoved in her direction against his will, and his inquisitor lightsabre appears in his hand. His arm is lifted into the air by an invisible force, about to swing down on top of Prauf’s head. 

“Do it!” she yells, and Cal screams as well, trying with all his might to hold back his arm. 

He hates this, he wants out. It hurts too much. The force trying to push down his arm and the sad look in his friend’s eyes tear into his heart like iron claws, shredding everything in its way.

Cal can hear the Second Sister’s voice yelling, urging him to get it done, but he hears something else too: it’s you. Your voice cuts through the cacophony of the scrapping grounds, pushing away all sounds of machinery, drills, saws, the rain itself and the inquisitor’s voice. Shoving it all aside, there’s just you.

“It’s okay, Cal,” you say, and the oppressing force on his arm is lifted with every word of yours. “I’m here, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re not alone.”

Finally, the force is gone entirely, and he screams in both pain and relief. Cal lets go of his weapon, which retracts mid-air with a whirr, and it falls to the ground. 

The world around him freezes, and everyone disappears. He’s back in the blinding white room, now  in his old scrapper outfit.

“Cal,” Prauf’s voice comes from behind him, and the redhead whips around. 

“My friend,” Prauf says warmly, as he always did, and stretches out his arms. A silent invitation. 

Cal hesitates only for a second, then gives in. Taking the few steps that separate the two, he lets himself be embraced by the Abednedo. Unable to hold back, he cries into his friend’s chest. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasps between sobs. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” the older man comforts him, lightly patting Cal’s back. “It’s not your fault.”

After a few more moments, when Cal’s cries subside, he pulls back to look up at Prauf.

“Why am I here?” he asks.

Prauf smiles down at him.

“I just wanted to let you know: it’s not your fault,” he says, placing his hands on the younger man’s shoulders and giving them a squeeze. “And to say thank you, for being my friend. I hope you found your way off Bracca and can have a peaceful life. You’ve been through so much, kid.”

Cal feels another wave of tears prickling behind his eyes.

“You never really belonged on Bracca, but I’m glad I met you,” Prauf says, his voice trailing off, as if swept off by the wind, as his image also starts disappearing from in front of Cal. “I hope you found your place.”

“No, wait!” he calls, trying to hold on to him, but his hands phase through the shadow of the figure still left.

Suddenly, Cal sits up on the bed with a scream, which takes you by surprise and you flinch backwards, falling onto your hands on the bed. 

He holds his shirt over his heart so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and with a broken sob, he lets himself fall back onto the bed. You hurry to scoot closer.

“You were right,” Cal says between sobs. “The Force was trying to get a message to me.”

That night, you hold him as he cries, this time not out of fear, but because he can finally allow himself to grief the loss of a friend from a long time ago.

I found my place, Prauf, Cal thinks, about to drift off to sleep after the exhaustion of crying takes over. He looks at you lying on his chest one last time, a soft smile spreading on his lips.

He hopes that some day, he’ll be able to find warmth just with you, not needing to resort to other methods ever again. And maybe then, finally, he can offer you all the warmth back that he forgot he held.

~~~~~

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[judasgot-it]

Headcannons: What kind of lover are they? (Sigma, Mushitaro)

Continuing this series a little cause these characters get NO love and they're among my favs.

SIGMA

He's the type of guy to spoil his lover rotten since he really dreams of a TV style romance. It's borderline silly sometimes, but his person would be someone who would be as cool as he is - possibly cooler. No amount of money can buy the easy style and fashion that him and his lover have.

He'd be the BEST omg

Type of guy to send his lover money and be like "buy yourself something nice" and it's like 2k

This man spoils but he also has the mindset of looking rich and being rich cause he doesn't wanna be poor

He smells better than handmade leather

He probably expects his lover to look good enough to walk around the casino though so he does have high expectations - he's a career guy. Also he cares about that place a lot (before you know....)

Although he's the type to be like "you don't want me...I've killed people" stfu bro you're favorite food is cookies

He's like a killer Teddy bear compared to the rest of the BSD cast tbh

He'd be a sweetheart but he needs praise and 100% if he has a lover they're in on all of his life drama too

You probably know more about him than he does himself lol

Will try to protect you from anyone he knows is weird and a killer - dazai, fyodor, nikolai, even the hunting dogs (he has serious beef)

Honestly he'd be a great BF but you'd need to carry a gun on you 24/7 or something so sigma feels better with him not around

He is probably needs security the most out of anyone

MUSHITARO

Certified loser, this guy really just wants people he can depend on and won't betray him considering his past. He'd never cheat, he just wants to enjoy the day to day with his lover even if he seems like a sour apple all the time.

He's a fucking loser (no offense, just a fact. The washing machine manual did it for me) so this guy is guaranteed not to cheat tbh

Like. He has 2 friends if you count ranpo and poe and maybe anyone associated with the detective agency. And none of them are touching his weird astrology obsessed ass (I love him)

This guy would date someone and is loyal be default, plus if he opened up then like. Bro idk how he's moving on from that

Marriage. Point blank. He wouldn't move on from a breakup at all

Also as depressed as he is ik he'd probably enjoy day to day life instead of focusing on the long term anymore. You can't be assured of the future, so he'd always go get whatever sweet treat you want

Honestly he'd be an amazing bf tho like this man APPRECIATES the people in his life

If you're in. You're IN

He'd be chill about it like. Probably would do a whole lot of stuff like sight seeing and all of that. Maybe he'd be sour about it, but he'd enjoy being forced outside of his shell

Inside he's a sweetheart and would think about his lover a LOT

Probably gets them their favorite snacks on his day to day

Cries during sex tho he can't help it

[thebearer]

spoilers

i’ve waited long enough i need people to talk to about season three. enter my inbox but here’s my thoughts / questions.

i have the worst feeling the tina flashback will be a foreshadowing or is. history is about to repeat itself.

i have never been more stressed in my life. sydney’s anxiety attack was how i felt that whole season.

fuck frank and tiff too. weird as fuck sorry. i’m sure they’re great but fuck them.

uncle jimmy running out of money???? hello??? like i’m annoyed why they enabled carmen so much. like i get his whole guilt thing but is telling him “hey stop we don’t have any money i’m out and this will go out of business” before he fucked it so badly is better than the situation now.

also wtf was the donna comment?? we’ve been working on things together or whatever??? highly suspicious like is donna going to save the day.

i knew carmen would be insufferable from the trailer but this was hell on earth to watch. i have never wanted to punch someone more in my life.

marcus is precious to me and i cherish him with every beat of my heart. his funeral speech about killed me truly.

“what grows together, goes together” foreshadowing is also making me sick.

donna saying she was getting herself together??? i need more on that.

sydney taking the new job??? i wouldn’t blame her tbh. hope she takes the whole staff with her too.

richie and jessica????? we all saw it right???? like was i crazy???

i need two things for me to have peace. i need chef terry to give carmen a heart to heart change his perspective man in the mirror speech like she did with richie and set him straight. two, i need chef david to die brutally.

[illubean]

ooo idea for the unaligned experiment!reader (same guys as last time)

so reader gets bored during a job and wanders off once they know their favorite free meal human isn't going to die or something.

they go outside and find a stray cat, and when their favorite human comes to find them reader unprompted says "you're like this cat to me. you'll die before me and you'd be easy to kill, but I don't speed up that process because i like the fuzzy feelings you both give me. plus you're both kinda cute. :3"

like that's kinda just reader's usual rambling but it does cement that:

reader's actively thought about how easy it'd be to kill him

they don't do that because they (on some level) like being around him at this point

they're consciously aware they'll outlive him

they think he's cute

Also possible angst/comfort at the thought they've gotten bored and left him. also the reminder that reader's fully willing to wander off without him if they're not provided enrichment, but then they find out they consciously decided to stay where they could be found because they (on some level) grew to like him.

Unaligned!OP!Reader pt. 2

Characters: Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader

Couldn't really think of a hurt/comfort aspect because of these characters' personalities...

Warnings: mentions of death, a little angsty? idk

Illumi Zoldyck

Illumi of course already knows that you could easily take him out

it's why he kept you around in the first place

he originally only kept you around as some sort of Zoldyck super weapon

but YOU are beginning to develop FEELINGS? for HIM???

he probs just uses that to his advantage tbh

Illumi is worried when you wander off though, because what if someone else finds you and you take a liking to them? what if you leave him?

he doesn't care all that much about it from an emotional standpoint but he can't afford to lose such a valuable weapon

so he would accept your affections if it meant keeping you under wraps

you're willing to do whatever he tells you if it means keeping him around

since you don't really want him to die soon you're quick to attack anything or anyone he asks you to

even if you don't completely understand your emotions and even if it's one sided, you decide to stick around

you couldn't have your favorite human be lonely, could you?

Chrollo Lucilfer

he lets out an amused chuckle at your revelation

he too often thinks about his own mortality and that of others

so he's not as put off by your comment as he should be

"Maybe you're a lot more human than you think you are."

and his statement offers you some peace of mind

even though your immortal and were quite literally created to be a ruthless killing machine it felt good to know that you could actually experience human emotions

after this you are a lot more willing to express your affinity for him, weather physically or verbally

and you don't wander off as often as you used to

you still don't really grasp the concept of love but Chrollo understands what you mean

since you know you'll outlive him you become very protective over him

you decided it's better to keep him around as long as possible

so...I guess Chrollo did kind of get what he wanted

you were like his personal guard...dog? demon? idk you were his guard something

I'm not sure he would develop any sort of romantic feelings for you (at least not very quickly) but he does care for you to an extent

he doesn't have to worry much about losing you since yk you CANT DIE

but he does like seeing you happy :))

Feitan Portor

he's not sure how he feels about being compared to a cat

normally he would be offended but his brain skips over all the morbid parts and is like wait did they just call me CUTE!?

HIM? CUTE? HE IS A KILLER

he's mildy flustered by this but he plays it off as annoyance

but also he's offended that you think he's so weak

he knows he technically can't beat you because you're immortal but like...give him some credit

it wouldn't bee THAT easy to kill him

he could give you a run for your money

he probably just scoffs and tells you to shut up before walking away

even when you do wander you still end up finding and following him in the end

Feitan would never admit it but he enjoys having you around <3

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

"are you longing, is it Killing Time?"

"if i’m honest, think i want it. no more talking, no more nonsense."

synopsis// you work at a ballet studio and suna works at the karate dojo next door.

pairing// rintaro suna x gn!reader

word count// 3.9k

contents// ooc suna? idk he's like kinda smug in this... ive never written for him before so heed my warning. slight enemies to lovers but like kinda not really. osamu's obligatory accent. plot kinda speaks for itself i have no other warnings besides the fact that this kinda (majorly) sucks...

requested// by an anon!! im SO sorry this took me so long to write!!

notes// i know i said id never write for haikyuu again but i lied ok? take it. do what you will with this. sorry if this is all over the place... i feel very out of my element writing for haikyuu again LMFAO. also if anything mentioned about karate or ballet is wrong sorry!! i took ballet ONCE and taken karate never xoxo tbh i think the plot probably wouldve worked better as an smau but im not doin all that (respectfully.) anywho this was also inspired by killing time by movements (TOOOO GOOODDDDD)

Classical music and the whispers of the kids eight-counting their steps echo throughout the room. Everything is peaceful and as it should be... That is, until the mirror walls begin to vibrate violently from the sudden blaring of music from the studio next to yours. All the kids turn to look at you, confused about what’s happening, and you flash them a small apologetic smile.

“You guys keep practicing, okay? I'm gonna go next door and ask them to turn it down.” 

Satisfied with your guidance, they nod, and you quickly walk out. Though not comfortable leaving a bunch of children unsupervised, you leave your studio door open to make sure that you’re still able to hear them from outside. You sigh before walking into the next studio; frankly, you had gotten this far without having to interact with anyone else, and you just wished it would stay that way. Neither the kids nor their instructor seem to notice your presence. And even though you clear your throat, no one hears you.

“Excuse me!” 

Suddenly all heads are turning toward you, and you reflexively dig your feet into the floor to stop yourself from running back out. Their instructor waves the kids off, having them go back to practicing whatever karate move he had just taught them before walking up to you.

"Can I help you?” he says, his eyes boring into yours.

And suddenly. Suddenly, you hate him. Or, at the very least, strongly dislike him. He blasts his music, knowing damn well the walls are thin, and then has the audacity to give you attitude?

“Are you gonna say something, or are you just gonna stand there all day?” He stops and briefly looks you up and down, a small smirk playing on his face. "Actually, I wouldn’t mind that.”

Your jaw clenches, giving him the nicest smile you very well could muster. “Can you turn down your music? It’s distracting my kids.”

He hums and appears to consider it for a moment, and you're almost grateful—almost, because then he has to open his stupid mouth again.

“Maybe if you say please.”

Your eye twitches. "Okay, you know what? Nevermind." You glance over at his students briefly, making sure they aren't looking at the two of you, and when you confirm that they aren't, you flip him off, and all he does is laugh. You groan, and if you could slam his studio door shut without the glass shattering, you would.

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

To no one’s surprise, he didn't stop playing his music at full volume—he claimed it pumped the kids up, and sure, maybe it did, but all it did was distract your own. And eventually, you two somehow fell into a game of who could play whose music louder. Considering your music consisted of different ballet numbers, it's safe to say he always won.

Week after week, you'd show up in his studio and ask him to just turn his music off, to lower the volume, to do something other than drive you crazy, but all he'd do was poorly flirt and smirk, his eyes always on you one way or another, and if you weren't so annoyed by him, you’re sure you would have found him captivating. It's not surprising when one day he’s the one showing up at your studio—you're actually excited about it, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he’s finally given up and is here to apologize. When you approach him and find all his students outside behind him, you quickly realize that's not the case. You glance between him and the kids.

“You guys go in and make friends, yeah?” You say as you move out the way to allow his students into your studio. You wait until they're all inside before stepping out and closing the door behind you. You whisper harshly, “What the fuck do you want?”

"Wow, you use that kind of language around your students?” He asks, his smirk all too evident on his face as he crosses his arms.

You stare at him blankly, no amusement etched on any of your features, and he awkwardly clears his throat.

“Our studio flooded.”

“Okay… What does that have to do with me?"

His shoulders slump as he groans. "Oh, c’mon.”

“How am I supposed to know what you want if you won't use your words like a big boy?” you ask, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

He glares at you, and for once, it seems like you're the one getting under his skin. “Fuck you.”

You mockingly tut and shake your head. "Wow, you use that kind of language around your kids?”

He stands there and kicks at the sidewalk, clearly having some internal debate you don’t care enough to ask about, but he tells you anyway.

“Would you… be willing to share your studio with us until they fix our studio?”

Without missing a beat, you laugh. “Yeah no. I don't even know your name... What if you're some serial killer?”

“First of all, it's Rintaro Suna. Second of all, do you really think they would hire me to work around kids if I was a serial killer?”

You shrug. You don’t care about the logistics; you just don’t want him in your studio.

“And third of all, seriously?” He crosses his arms, and his tone is full of the kind of disappointment you'd only find in a friend who’s been betrayed—not in between two strangers who’ve done nothing but “fight” about music for weeks on end.

“Yes seriously. Can’t you find a new studio?”

“Owner says it’s more expensive to do that than fix whatever got fucked up.”

“Then find someone else to share with,” you say as you turn to walk back into your studio.

Suna grabs your wrist, and as you look over your shoulder at him, he pouts. "Are you really gonna take this out on the kids just because you hate me?”

You stare at him blankly, but the more you think about it and let what he’s said sink in, the softer your face becomes, and suddenly your conviction is nowhere to be found—just another leaf blown away in the wind. “How did your studio flood?”

Happy with how you don’t seem like you're about to escape off into your studio anymore, Suna lets go of your wrist and starts explaining, “Well, one kid clogged the toilet and the other left the sink running.”

“Deserved,” you say through a snort.

“Whatever. Are you gonna share or not?”

“Fine,” you sigh. "But I swear to god, Suna, the second you piss me off or don’t listen, I'm kicking your ass out. This is still my studio.”

"Technically, it’s not even yours.”

You stare at him blankly, eyes narrowed, and Suna can immediately tell you’re already thinking about taking back your offer of letting him stay in your studio.

He coughs awkwardly. "I'll shut up now.” 

“Good choice.”

A beat passes between the two of you just staring at each other, and when Suna realizes you won't say anything more, he takes the initiative.

Tilting his head at you, he asks, "So, are you gonna tell me your name now?”

You continue staring at him blankly.

"Oh, cmon, we’re gonna be sharing a studio now.”

“It's Y/n L/n.”

"Well, Y/n,” he says, somewhat dragging out your name before teasing, "I always knew you had a soft spot for me.”

"I have a soft spot for the kids, not you,” you correct him, crossing your arms.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he says, brushing your shoulder with his as he walks past you and into your studio.

“Don’t just walk into my studio like you own it?!" you call out, following after him.

“Not your studio, and you don’t own it either.”

“You know what I mean, Suna!”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

It's almost scary how easily Suna and his students fit into your class. It didn’t even take a week for you to feel like having him in your studio was natural—how it should have always been. You hated how any ill-will you had toward him would suddenly vanish into thin air whenever you saw him interact with his or your students. You grew accustomed to your new routine with him.

Every other day, he could play his music and even teach some of your students some karate if they so desired, and vice versa. He’d bring you breakfast, and you'd bring him lunch, and sometimes the two of you would even go have dinner once all your students had left. You hated how he just wiggled his way into your life. You’re supposed to hate him—he used to play his music as loud as he could just to piss you off, and now you have dinner with him practically every day.

You’ve grown so fond of him that now, two months later, about to be three, you've completely forgotten why he’s here in the first place—that his residence in your studio is only temporary, and he’s just here till his studio is fixed. You’ve forgotten all about it because now you look forward to seeing him and actually want to see him more than you've ever wanted anything else before. and he feels the exact same because here he is, slumped in a chair in the back of the room, frowing as he watches his and your students combined because you’re not here.

The door swings open, and Suna can't help but let out a sigh of relief, practically jumping out of his seat, ready to go run and spin you in his arms like some shitty rom-com, only to find that it wasn't you who walked in; nope, it was just his friend. Suna’s face falls as he drops back into his chair with a groan.

“Okay, lovely to see ya too,” Osamu snorts as he walks over to Suna, taking the seat next to him.

He weakly tries pushing Osamu out of the chair, mumbling, “That’s Y/n’s seat.”

"Well, they aren't here, are they?”

Suna scowls at him but gives up trying to push him out nonetheless.

“Where are they anyway?”

“Running late, I guess.”

Osamu hums in response, and a comfortable silence falls over them. The only noise in the room was the kids whispering their next move to themselves or helping their friend with something. Suna watches them intently, with the care and attention of someone handling glass, and quickly finds a few students who need help.

"Hey, keep your leg straight when you kick,” he calls out to one of his students before turning to one of yours, “And you bend your knees more when you do your... uh-“ 

"Plié," the child supplies for him.

Suna nods. "Yeah, that whatever.”

Osamu doesn't know whether he should laugh at or side-eye Suna. “Do ya not know their names?”

"I don’t get paid enough to know their names.”

He shakes his head, deciding that commenting on that is not worth his time, and instead goes to why he came here in the first place. "I'm surprised yer still here, to be honest.”

"A job is a job.”

"No, I mean in this studio. I figured the repairs in yer’s would be finished by now; it’s been like, what? almost three months?”

Suna mumbles a slow, drawn-out, “…yeah.”

Osamu sits up straight, shifting in his seat to face Suna entirely. “What the fuck was that?”

“Don’t cuss in front of the kids; what’s wrong with you?" He reprimands, slapping Osamu’s arm.

“Don’t change the subject.”

"I'm not; I'm just saying.”

Osamu rolls his eyes. "Okay, well, start by saying what’s up with the repairs.”

He does not. “Y/n will be back soon; you should leave.”

“Suna,” Osamu monotones.

"If I tell you, will you leave?”

“What did ya do, Suna?”

Suna looks away as he embarrassedly mumbles, “The repairs could’ve been done a long, long time ago…”

“What?!” Osamu practically shrieks as he sits up straight. “What do ya mean?!”

Suna glares at Osamu before looking toward the kids, whose attentions were caught by Osamu yelling and waving them off. “Ignore him.”

“Oh my god, have ya been stalling the repairs?” He asks, this time quietly. “Why would ya do that?”

“Why do you think, Osamu?”

Suna’s attitude does nothing to deter Osamu, not when he’s just had the realization of a lifetime. “Oh my god... Oh my god! Ya have a crush on Y/n, don't ya?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Suna hisses through clenched teeth, his eyes wide and threateningly boring into his.

“What happened to not cussing in front of the kids?”

Suna stares at him blankly, and Osamu merely sighs, slumping back into his seat.

"I can't believe this. I don't know if this is pathetic or cute—kinda both, to be honest.”

"Osamu, I swear-“

With neither of them having heard the studio door swing open, you unknowingly interrupt his threat: "Hey! Sorry, traffic was horrible—oh, who’s this?"

“Doesn't matter; he was just about to leave,” Suna says without missing a beat while standing straight up.

"I'm Osamu,” he says, suddenly approaching you. “And yer the infamous Y/n, I'm assuming?”

“Infamous..?” you question under your breath before shaking your head and deciding to ignore it. “Uh yeah—are you friends with Suna?”

“No.”

“Yes,” Osamu answers, ignoring Suna’s response. "I should get going, though. Nice meeting ya, Y/n!”

“Yeah, you too…”

Osamu waves you goodbye before winking at Suna and disappearing out the door.

You hum. “So what was that about?”

“No idea,” Suna shrugs as he walks away to gather his students.

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

Suna has been weird ever since a week ago, when you walked into the studio to Suna and his friend. He’s avoided you as best as he can, and even when he’s not actively trying to somehow get away from you, he still feels Pluto far from his more than dry replies. And frankly, you’ve had enough. You’re driving yourself crazy trying to figure out what you’ve done wrong and how to fix it—you can’t know unless he tells you.

Which is why, when both of your students left, you borderline kidnapped him. You grabbed him by his arm and dragged him into your car, driving the two of you to a restaurant, where you now sit in an awkward silence waiting for your food. But this is good, right? If he truly didn’t want to be in this position with you right now, you’re more than certain he could’ve put up a winning fight, yet he didn't, so that’s good. This is good.

"Did I do something?”

“Yeah,” he replies without missing a beat or looking up at you.

“Huh?” Your heart is in your throat as you blink at him. “What did I do?”

“Exist.”

“What?” You shake your head in disbelief. "I thought we were getting along."

“We are—god.” As he finally looks up at you, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. You almost feel like you're back in his studio for the very first time with the way his eyes are boring into yours. “We get along too well, jesus christ, Y/n, you drive me crazy.”

“And you don’t drive me crazy?” you ask, giving him a crooked smile.

“You don't know what you’re saying,” he says flatly, yet the way it’s almost breathless has you thinking maybe he actually wants you to know what you’re saying—to know all of the implications that come with it and fully embrace them.

“Does it matter? Just stop ignoring me, Suna; I hate it.”

"I hate it too.”

“So then why are you doing it, idiot?”

“Because Y/n, I-“

You stare at him expectantly, patiently waiting for his answer.

"I get too distracted with you; I need to teach my students," he mumbles the rest of his sentence as he looks away from you, your scrutinizing gaze sending shivers down his spine and crushing any idea he had to say something else—say the truth—well, the whole truth, because you very well do distract Suna far too much for his liking.

“That sounds like a shitty excuse.”

Suna hums, and when he makes no move to explain himself, you wonder, “Why do I distract you so much?”

“Why do you care if I ignore you so much?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t act childish, Suna.”

Suna merely raises an eyebrow at you, still waiting for your answer, just like you were waiting for his only a few moments ago.

You sigh. "I'm not sure.”

"Well, I am, so I won’t say anything until you're sure too.”

“That’s not fair, Sunaaaa,” you whine, sliding down your seat like a petulant child.

He shrugs, a slight smirk on his face. "I'm more than happy to wait.”

"Whatever, just stop ignoring me?”

"Yeah, I'll stop,” he says, nodding. “Sorry bout that.”

"S'fine." You wave him off before remembering something that makes you sit up straight again. "Oh, also, I've been meaning to ask about how your studio is going?”

Suna’s mood and face drop so fast that it’s as if he was never even happy or smiling in the first place—the temperature of the room suddenly icy cold. “Oh.”

"I'm not trying to kick you out, Suna,” you immediately add, reassuring him that, as of now, that's the last thing you’d ever want to do. "I actually like you in my studio... like a lot, I guess, and I don't know, to be honest, I'm scared I'm getting too used to you being there."

"Well, I'm already used to it, so either way, we’re both kinda fucked in that department.”

You can't help but smile so wide it hurts your cheeks, absolutely over the moon that he feels the exact same way. That he’s grown so used to you, like the two of you should have never been apart in the first place, and it was always only a matter of time before you found your way to each other.

"I'm not sure, though. I haven’t heard much,” he continues, interrupting your inner swooning.

"Okay, well, that’s good then,” you say, nodding more to yourself than to him. “No need to get rid of you so soon; who else will annoy me?”

"Weren't you just begging me to stop ignoring you, and now I'm annoying?” he taunts.

You cross your arms, glaring at him. "I was not begging Rintaro Suna.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Shut up," you say through a smile, no hostility anywhere in you. “Oh also! The kids wanted me to tell you about our recital coming up.”

“Yeah? When is it?”

“Week from now. They really want you there.”

Suna tilts his head slightly to the side, his eyes narrowing at you in doubt. “Just them?”

“Just them.”

Suna doesn't believe it for a second, and maybe he would’ve if your voice wasn't so shakey and breathless.

You relent; you never had much resolve when it came to him anyway—that's how he ended up in your studio in the first place, isn't it? “And me too, I guess.”

A blush that he makes look all too good covers his cheeks. "I'd love to go, Y/n.”

“Great!”

Suddenly his face drops, and he’s cursing under his breath, "Shit, wait, actually, we have a tournament that day too.”

"Oh, that's fine! I mean, being in the studio with us, it's like you get a free recital every day, right?” You smile, but even then, it's clear as day how disappointed you are.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I can still try to make it.”

“No no! It's fine; you won't miss much. You have your own kids stuff to worry about.”

Suna frowns, wanting nothing more than to wipe that dejected look off your face. “Y/n.”

"Suna, it's fine, really." You weakly try to reassure him, but he’s just not budging.

He shakes his head. "I'll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Okay, I'll hold you to it then.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

The recital came faster than you cared for. You would be excited for this had Suna been able to come, but he couldn't, and now, even though you know he won't be here, you still can't help but peek through the stage curtains, hoping and praying you'll somehow spot him in the crowd. You try to keep your disappointment at bay the whole recital, and surprisingly you do. The recital goes off without a hitch, and the only thing you can wish for is that you were more excited. Your little ones did absolutely amazing and completely blew the crowd away, yet here you are moping around over some dude who, up until a few months ago, you hated.

“They did amazing,” an oddly familiar voice says, breaking you out of your thoughts. "I'm sure it's only because of their teacher... Do you know them? I'm actually looking for them.”

You're flattered, really, but you can't deal with compliments or holding a conversation right now, not when you want to just crawl under your bed covers and never come out. Not to mention that no one else is supposed to be backstage right now. You sigh before turning around to ask them to leave, only to practically jump out of your skin with excitement.

“Suna!” you exclaim happily, running your way toward him and closing some of the gap between you two. “You’re here, but how? Where were you? I looked, and I couldn't find you—wait, I thought? Where's your kids? Shouldn't you be at their tournament?” 

Suna watches you ramble with the softest of faces, huffing a small laugh. He shrugs once you're done. “Samu took over.”

“Rintaro Suna.”

“What? The little shits will get over it… but I don't think you would've if I didn't show up.”

"Well, I would've tried.” You take another step toward him. "Though I can't say you're not a smart man, Rintaro.”

Suna eyes you curiously and follows your movements, taking a step toward you. “So I've been told.”

You roll your eyes, despite an undeniable smile dressing your face, and in some fit of arrogance, you take the last step toward Suna, thus closing any remaining space between the two of you. With your chests touching, there’s nothing left for you to do but wrap your arms around his neck, which you do with ease—as if they were always meant to be there this whole time. He quickly follows your lead, resting his hands on your waist. But his eyebrows are furrowed as if to ask if this is okay, and you nod. This is more than okay—you’d actually prefer more, and it doesn’t seem like he’s getting the hint.

“So are you gonna kiss me, or are you just gonna stand there all day?"

Suna goes wide-eyed, and it takes a minute for his body to catch up with his brain, but before you know it, Suna is practically slamming his face into yours, kissing you like if he doesn't, he’ll die. like you’re the very oxygen Suna has been so desperately searching for all his life—and who's to say he isn't yours as well? Meeting his lips with the same exact urgency, you're sure if anyone else was backstage right now, the two of you would be scolded for years to come. Suna pulls away for air, practically panting; his face is flushed with such a deep red you can still make it out even under the dim lights, and you push strands of his hair out of his face just to revel in his blush some more.

Still struggling to catch his breath, he swallows harshly. “Would it ruin the moment if I told you my studio is finally fixed?”

"Yes, so I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that and keep kissing you instead.”

"Yeah, ok, I like that idea better anyway.”

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD