#please for the love of god you cannot tell me that no one wears skinny jeans in the dark future | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hello-everyfandom · 4 years

Text

“I’ll say it every second of every day if need be, I love you."

Warnings: N/A

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Words: 2.8k

Summary: James Potter is desperately in love with you.

Part One “No, please… Don’t say that. You love her, not me.”

Part Two "James, you’re a right knob head sometimes. She loves you.”

(Hi! This is part three of my James Potter series. Feel free to read those before hand!)

It was odd to see you without James. It seemed that after the Gryffindor party, you had disappeared. It was rare to see you during meal times and you were nothing but a passing figure in the corridors, fleeing before the boys could stop you. It wasn’t just Remus you were dodging, Sirius could barely find you in a crowd and Peter had spoken to you all but once these past few weeks. James, it seemed, was taking your absence the hardest. He frequently turned to his side to tell you a witty or inappropriate joke only to find that you weren’t there. Living without you was torture. Living without the person he loved was torture. And, what made it worse, was that it was his doing that brought this fate upon the Marauders. Remus Lupin, to put kindly, was extremely fed up. He missed his friend and found himself quite lonely studying in the library. And if he were to catch you somewhere, reading or doing homework, you were quiet and reserved, almost fragile to an extent. So, Remus made it his mission, after a grueling day of classes, to find you. He stalked the halls, peering left and right, checked the Astronomy Tower and the Owlery and the kitchens. It was only until he found you, tucked away and unseen, in the back of the library that he let out a sigh of relief.

Remus pulled a chair from the table and sat down, staring at you intently. “Right, Y/N. This has got to stop.”

“What are you on about, Remus?” you asked, raising your eyes from your book that you were barely reading.

“Don’t play dumb!” Remus used his hand to refer to you, “This has got to stop. It’s become ridiculous.”

“Rem-”

“No, just listen to me. I don’t want to raise my voice or become angry, but you’ve beyond frustrated me. Y/N, this has got to stop, you cannot go on like this.”

“Go on like what?” you asked sharply.

“Like this!” you knew exactly what Remus was talking about. You had become quite skinny, almost gaunt like. Your body adorned an old knitted sweater that James had given you after his growth spurt. It engulfed your body and swallowed you whole. Your face has lost its colour, and your paleness reached all over your skin. You looked sick. Lovesick, if you will, and suffering from heartbreak and losing the battle.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you gazed back at your book, hoping Remus would leave.

“Damn it, Y/N. Stop it.” Remus slammed his hand on the table, making you jump. Remus had never raised his voice at you, but looking in his eyes, you could see how desperate he was. Remus redacted his hand and shook his head, “I’m sorry.” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” you said reassuringly, reaching to place your hand on his.

“I’m worried about you.”

“I know,” you said truthfully, rubbing his knuckles with your thumb, “but I’m alright.”

“No, no you’re not, Y/N. This isn’t you. The person sitting here isn’t you.” Remus trailed off. If this is what love is, Remus thought, then maybe he didn’t want it. He could see how this was tearing you apart, inside and out. “Everyone misses you. James misses you.”

“I miss you too,” your voice quivered a bit, hearing James’ name struck a blade in your throat.

“He’s not the same, y’know? Have you noticed?”

You couldn’t say you had. Every time you had seen him in the corridor or in the common room, you practically ran away. It was utter agony to see the man who you so desperately loved, not love you back. But, if you had lingered, if you stayed for mere seconds, you would have seen how broken James was. He smiled and ran his fingers through his hair as he usually did, but the smile was nearly blank and his hair was pulled nervously.

“Rem-”

“I know,” he sighed, “But at least think about coming back, okay? It’s scaring me to see you like this.”

You nodded, “I love you, Moons.”

Remus squeezed your hand, sending you a worried smile and stood up to leave you alone with your thoughts. As you sat there, you found yourself playing with James’ sweater, fiddling with and pulling out the loose strands. You feared that this was the end of yours and James’ friendship, perhaps even for good. You weren’t sure you could go back to being friends, it simply felt too emotionally difficult to be nothing but mates. You couldn’t do it. A small part of you wanted to be angry with James. In fact, you wanted to be furious at him for toying with your feelings like that. You wanted to scream and send him a jinx that would cause his head to become an octopus. Maybe then he’d see how much he sucked. But, you couldn’t. You couldn’t even be annoyed. The only thing you could feel was the throbbing hurt of your broken heart and helplessly missing a certain James Potter.

Sirius had become just as frustrated if not even more frustrated than Remus. He had become fed up with constantly telling James to grab life by the balls and tell you how he truly feels. It became too much when James was fidgeting during breakfast before his second Quidditch game.

“James Middle-Name-That-I’ve-Forgotten Potter!”

James looked up alarmed, “Padfoot? What’s wrong? You never call me James,”

“You! You’re what’s wrong.”

“Padfoot, don’t do this right now, I’m already nervous enough for the game.”

“This is the absolute last time I’ll say it if you don’t tell Y/N how you feel, I won’t talk to you for a week and we both know that’ll be right awful.”

“I’ll do it! I swear, I’ll do it, it just has to be the right time. And-and now, it’s just not.”

“Then when will be the right time?” Sirius prodded, “In a year? Two? When you’re old and wrinkled?”

James bit his lip, knowing full well that Sirius was right. “I’ll tell her at the party tonight,”

Sirius rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Yeah, like that turned out well last time you did that.”

“Well! I-okay? It’ll be fine!” James groaned loudly. Why was he such a coward?

“I mean it, James. Do it, or you’ll regret it.” Sirius pointed. “I didn’t pretend to be Y/N and fake kiss you for nothing.”

“You were the one who pretended to kiss me!” James accused,

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it.” Sirius clicked his tongue.

“I didn’t,” James said.

Although James felt joyous over his quidditch game win, he could feel the nerves bundled in his stomach. As he reached the common room James swallowed harshly and plainly greeted the partying Gryffindors who congratulated him.

“Drink of firewhiskey?” Someone offered him, James shook his head.

“No thanks, mate. All yours.”

James searched the common room, his eyes scanning the heads of the bouncing and swaying students. His brown eyes locked with Sirius who sent him back a pointed look with eyebrows raised. He had to do it. He had to do it now. James Potter blinked, hoping to find you somewhere in the crowd with a smile on your face that he so loved. James pushed against the throng of students before reaching Remus who was leaned against the wall.

“Moony,” James said with relief.

“There you are! Hold on,” Remus fixed James’ glasses that seemed to have come askew and crooked on his nose. “Two wins in a row, how bloody lucky are you?”

“Yeah yeah,” James waved it off before asking frantically, “Where’s Y/N?”

Remus’ face dropped and his eyes showed nothing but wariness, “Why?”

“I need to tell her something.”

“Have you been drinking again?”

James shook his head rapidly, “No. Where is she?”

“Prongs, I think-”

“Moons, I’m sorry, I don’t have time for this. I need to see her, I need to see her and tell her I love her. I need to do it and I need to do it now,”

Remus’ eyes lifted in surprise, “Oh.”

“I know, I know. But, where is she? I need to find her.”

Remus’ thoughts were racing horses and he seemed to piece together what was happening, “James.”

“Please, Remus. Please tell me where she is.”

Remus bit his bottom lip, “I think I saw her in the courtyard, sitting in one of the window sills, but-” Before he could continue, James spun around and hurried out of the common room.

Sirius strutted over and slung an arm around Remus’ shoulders.

“Is he going-”

“Yup.”

“And does Y/N feel-”

“Yup.”

Sirius turned his head with a wide grin, “Thank god. I was nearly ripping out my hair waiting for him to tell her.” Remus hummed in response. As Sirius seemed to quiet, Remus turned to him with questioning eyes.

“I need to tell you something-”

Remus interrupted him, “You pretended to be Y/N for James, didn’t you? That’s why you pretended to wear a dress.”

Sirius sighed pathetically, “Yeah. And I kind of liked it.”

James could feel the sweat begin to bead on his forehead, and the adrenaline run through his veins as he looked the corridors for you. This was it. James could feel it. He was ready, he was in love with you and nothing else seemed to matter but the idea of you. You. He loved you. He would rip the skin off his back to keep you warm or swing upside down on a tree with his trousers off just to make you smile.

It was cold. Cold enough to feel a brisk breeze on your shoulders and cold enough for you to wrap yourself in your arms. You enjoyed the quiet, at least you learned to enjoy it. You debated on returning to the common room to attend the party like Remus and Sirius had begged you to, but you quickly decided against it. You stared up at the stars that blinked back at you. Though you were absolute bollocks at astronomy, you found yourself counting the stars, seeking a constellation, or maybe even guidance. A cloud brushed over the dark skies, the twinking stars disappearing into the darkness. You sighed and stared at your feet until you heard something. What was that? It sounded almost like thunder, pounding against the corridor floors. As you curiously faced the source of the noise, you could barely make out a tall figure bounding towards you. You could make out their messy hair that seemed to stick out everywhere. Messy hair. James. It was James. He ran towards the courtyard, pausing to look madly all-around before spotting you. James Potter froze, his mouth coming agape. The adrenaline and rush that he had previously felt faded every slow step he took towards you. Your hands instantly became sweaty and you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes from his. Should you run? Maybe, if you hurried now, you could make it back to your dorm in minutes. But you stayed. You stayed, watching his every move until he finally reached where you were sitting.

“Hi,” he whispered, barely trusting his voice right now.

“Hi,” you said back, your voice shaky and low. His eyes looked towards the free space next to you on the bench, a silent question if he could sit. Your eyes widened as you scooted over allowing James to sit. It was silent, something neither of you were used to. Before, it was rare that you two had a minute of quietness between you as the conversation seemed to bounce naturally. But now, it was hushed. James clenched his hands nervously.

“Congratulations on your win, James,” you said sincerely, surprised that you had even said something. James inhaled. He didn’t want to talk about quidditch. He didn’t want to talk about anything, he wanted to lean in and kiss you and tell you how much he truly adored you.

“I need to tell you something.” James let out.

“James-”

“No, please? Let me talk.” You stayed silent,

“I made a mistake at the last party.”

“Really, we don’t have to talk about it. We can just forget about it.”

“No, I don’t want to forget about it. It was a mistake. But not in the way you’re thinking. It was a mistake because I shouldn’t have told you how I felt like that. I feel like a right prat and, and.” James lost his words for a moment before clearing his throat, “I should’ve never told you I loved you when I was drunk. And, I should’ve never pretended I had forgotten about it either.”

This was painful. He did remember, he just ignored it. You managed to pull your lips into a small smile, “James. It’s okay. It didn’t mean anything, we can just-”

“No, that’s the thing. It did mean something. It meant something to me. I have been trying, constantly trying, to find a way to tell you, but I’m terrified of losing you.”

“You’d never lose me-”

“Y/N, you little shit,” he let out a small joke making you laugh, “Will you please be quiet because I swear I’ll go mad if you don’t.”

“I... I adore you.” James said finally. Your hands went cold and you struggled to breathe. It was a trick, wasn’t it? Or a nightmare? Or were you daydreaming in the library again and you’ll soon be woken up by the sound of a book dropping?

“What?”

“It’s true. I adore you. I think you are frustratingly annoying sometimes when you lose at exploding snap, when you argue with me I go a little insane and sometimes you snort when you laugh. I had this whole speech planned out and I was supposed to have flowers, but whenever I see you I just. I lose myself a bit. But, I think you’re amazing.” James shifted in his seat, getting a good look at you. You were thin and had bags under your eyes, but you were still just as beautiful as you were when you were children. “And I. I love you.”

“Have you been-”

“No. I haven’t been drinking. I’m as sober as a nun and I can say now, finally, that I, James Potter, am terribly and irretrievably in love with you. I have been and always will be.”

You sat there stunned. James bit his bottom lip nervously, looking up at you, eyelashes on his cheeks as he wondered what you were thinking. He had an anxious smile on his lips.

“Say it again,” you said softly.

“I love you.” James reached and interlocked his fingers with yours.

“Again,”

“I love you.” You let out a breath of shaky air, your lungs could implode. You couldn’t help it. Tears welled in your eyes, you couldn’t even blink them back in time. You could taste the salty tears slip down onto your lips as you began to cry. James looked alarmed and raised his hand to cup your cheek softly wipe the tears with his thumb.

“Please don’t cry Y/N. I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“No,” you sobbed, “Please. Don’t say anything. This? This is... perfect.”

“But, you’re crying,” James said worriedly, brushing more tears off your face. You felt yourself do something you hadn’t done in a while. You smiled. You beamed through your tears and sent James a dazzling smile that nearly knocked him off his seat.

“I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m... I’m perfectly happy right now.”

James could feel his own eyes begin to tear up as he sniffled and laughed, “Well you’ve gone and made me all soft now.”

“Oh, James. I missed you.” You leaned comfortingly into his hand.

“I missed you too, Love.” James whispered, “And I’ll never leave you again.”

“Will you say it again, for me?”

“I’ll say it every second of every day if need be, I love you. I love you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

You laughed out in relief, wishing to hear him say those sincere words again.

“I love you too. I love you, James Potter. I’ll love you until I stop breathing, until the day I die and even more.”

“Will you say it again for me?”

You closed your eyes, “I love you.”

Under the stars, the stars you had earlier compared your love to James Potter to, he kissed you. The salty tears of both yours and his mixed as you smiled, beyond joyful, effortlessly happy. A weight slipped off your shoulders and landed on the ground as James held your face in his hand and pushed all his love, his endearments, his affections into this kiss. You pulled away, foreheads pressed together as you felt nothing but content. From the beginning of your life together, James Potter knew you were destined to be together, tied with heartstrings. And slowly, but surely, the love you both shared combined, and not even the stars could outshine it.

#james potter #james potter imagines #james potter imagine #marauders imagine #marauders #remus lupin imagine #sirius black imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter #harry potter imagine

2K notes · View notes

atlatus · 3 years

Text

Disease

Character: Xiao

Pronouns: They/them

Post type: Angst

The green haired man opens his eyes to an unfamiliar scenery. He was on the ground, trees covering his surroundings, he can't seem to remember how he got here. Pushing himself up with his arms, he stands up, walking towards the crowd of trees.

While walking through the forest, he finally sees light. The adeptus runs towards it, arriving to see unusual contraptions¹ that he has never seen before. He furrows his eyebrows, 'Where am I? What is this place?' Due to his unusual appearance and clothing, a bystander unsurprisingly notices him. "Excuse me sir, are you perhaps lost?" He turns around, his eyes narrowing, "Who are you?" They're eyes widen, "Oh, sorry! I haven't introduced myself. My name's (F/N)." They smile.

He looks at them suspiciously, ". . . . My name is Xiao." (F/N)'s eyes widen a bit before smiling, "What a nice name! Won't you come with me? It's a bit cold out tonight." They propose. Though the adeptus is cautious, he nods. They giggle, holding out their hand, "Now, let's get you somewhere warm."

After about 2 weeks with Xiao, you decided to try and convince your parents to get him into to your school. Even though you're quite calm most of the time, you were determined to convince them. Your parents sigh before nodding, beaming with excitement, you rush to the guest room. Knocking on the door frantically, Xiao opens it, clearly agitated. "What do you want?" You smile, "Hey hey! You're going to my school now!"

He furrows his eyebrows, "I don't see the reason for me to go to school." Pushing the door the close it but you caught it with your foot, "C'mon~, it won't be that bad." You say. He rolls his eyes sighing before nodding. Your heart beats with excitement.

Xiao's first day in school has finally arrived, wearing different clothes made him itch a bit. He's isn't used to this type of attire.

Looking up at the school, surprised at the size of it. His face made you giggle a bit, "Alright, let's go." They both walk up to the entrance, you open the door for him. He narrows his eyes a bit before continuing on through the hallway. Immediately, people started noticing him, some observing his face while others looked more shocked.

'Hey doesn't that guy look like that character in Genshin?'

'Is he a cosplayer or something?'

'I have to take a picture with him!'

'Oh my god, he looks so cute!'

The whispering got louder and louder, 'Why is everyone staring at me like that?' Finally arriving to his classroom, you both enter. The sound of the door opening got the attention of everyone, the teacher looked over at the door, "Ah, you must be the new student! I'm Mr. Johnson, I'll be your teacher this school year!"

Xiao looked uneasy and uncomfortable, you quickly pat him on the back before sending him a reassuring smile, quietly telling him "It'll be alright."

"Now, would you mind introducing yourself?" The green haired man nods a bit before saying, "My name is Xiao, it's a pleasure to meet you." Some people in the classroom start whispering to their friends, "Oh my god, no way is it actually him?" "How did he even get here?" They were beaming with excitement.

"Well, nice to meet you Xiao! Why don't you sit next to your friend there. They sit at the corner seat over there." You smile before guiding him to where you're sitting. The teacher quickly quiets the class down before starting the lesson.

Xiao unsurprisingly got popular, many people would crowd around him to either talk to him, ask to hang out, or take pictures. He was quickly overwhelmed with the attention but got used to it after a few days. He started gaining friends fast and wasn't able to be with you anymore. Though you are glad he's happy, you can't brush off the feeling in the pit of your stomach. It feels like thorns poking in your chest and throat. You despised it. Not only did it hurt, but it made you feel like throwing up.

Everyday, you miss his conversations with you. Watching from afar with jealousy evident in your eyes. It's the same cycle everyday, people crowding him when you both arrive to the school. He

doesn't even look at you anymore. You feel like a ghost, no one acknowledging your existence, you're basically just. . . there.

One day, the urge to throw up made you lurch forward, putting a hand on your lips. You stand up quickly before running to the restroom. Kneeling down in front of the toilet, you throw up the, coughing and gagging. You look in the toilet bowl, eyes suddenly going wide. 'Flowers? What the hell-' Panic quickly flows through your body, 'What is this? Am I gonna die?' You reach for your phone in your pocket, searching up 'throwing up flowers'. The first result is something called the Hanahaki Disease. The article states that, "Hanahaki disease is a disease where the victim of unrequited or one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs, which will eventually grow large enough to render breathing impossible if left untreated." Your eyes scan through the article again, 'Unrequited or one-sided love?' You start to panic again, 'I won't be able to breath if this is untreated?' Your breathing becomes uneven and shaky, your expression suddenly turns into one that's sad, 'Does this mean Xiao. . . doesn't like me back?. . .'

Looking at the article again, you see 'cures for the disease', "Hanahaki can be cured through surgical removal of the plants' roots, but this excision also has the effect of removing the patient's capacity for romantic love. It may also erase the patient's feelings for and memories of the enamoured. It can also be cured by the reciprocation of the victim's feelings. These feelings cannot be feelings of friendship but must be feelings of genuine love."

'I can get them surgically removed, but, what's the point? I'll lose my feelings for him. I don't want to. I like it when my heart thumps whenever he smiles, or whenever he pouts in embarrassment due to a teasing comment from me. I don't.. I don't want these feelings to end.'

The ongoing thought of you losing your feelings for him made you cringe. '

Is it too late?'

Throughout a month, the condition only got worse. Throwing up these petals made you feel sick, it feels like God is planning to take your life right then and there. Xiao doesn't even talk to you anymore, you see him in the house sometimes but he's outside most of the time. The disease affected your mental and physical health, you were noticeably skinny and tired. The bags under your eyes proved it. Your parents have tried to talk to you about it but, you refuse to say anything.

The desire to keep feeling love made you like this. Your grades have dropped and now you lost all your friends, they're all too caught up with Xiao. At this point, you gave up on getting help. This whole situation will end when you die. You plan to talk to Xiao once more before you pass.

Two months. . .

It's been two months now. . .

The condition worsened greatly. Flower petals littered your room. You looked sickly, almost like a dead body. Well, that's what you're going to be in a couple days. . .

Using all your strength, you lift yourself up. "Need. . to go. . talk to. . Xiao." Right now, Xiao was with his friends. Luckily, you slipped a note in his locker the day before-

Meet me on top of hill tomorrow at 5:30 p.m.

- Sincerely, (F/N)

You had followed him when he opened his locker, he shrugged before stuffing the note into his backpack. You hoped that he would listen to it. If he doesn't show up today, you'll die happily knowing he is happy without you. His happiness is more important than your feelings or life.

You arrived at the hill. Looking at your watch, '5:15. Guess I'm early.' You sit down on top of it, looking at the sun slowly setting.

After a few minutes, you hear footsteps. Turning around, you see Xiao, his face neutral and calm. He then sat beside you, "So, what did you need?" He asks. You look back at the sun before smiling, "Have you enjoyed your time here?" Though your throat is aching, you still managed to say something.

He seems confused, "Of course I have. I've never been this

happy. ." Knowing he's happy made you feel relieved. To think that you found him in front of a forest, confused and cautious. It almost made you tear up.

"I'm happy that you are, Xiao."

You both stay silent, "Xiao, before I go, whatever happens after, promise me you'll be happy. I can't stand seeing you with a frown." You say with a raspy voice.

". . .Of course."

You find yourself laying on a hospital bed. You try to move but your body is too sore. Your ears perked up to muffled talking, "I'm sorry sir, ma'am but the kid is going to be gone soon. The Hanahaki disease already clogged up most of the patients lungs. We can either surgically remove it or-" The doctor was quickly cut off, "Surgically remove it! Please save them! Just remove the damn flowers, please!" You heard your mom scream.

"Ma'am, we have to get the patients consent. Removing the flowers will cause the patients enamored feelings for their-" The doctor was cut off once again, "I don't care anymore! Just please, save my kid!"

The argument was ongoing before you stored up all your strength and spoke, "M-mom. . . I don't want my. . . feelings to go. . . away." Your voice was barely audible, but they heard it. Your mom rushes over to your bed (despite the doctors warnings), "(F/N)! Don't be like that! Your life is more important!"

Tears start welling up your mom's eyes, "Please don't leave us. . ."

You stare at her before smiling, "It's okay mom, besides-" You cough, "It's already. . . too late." Despair was evident in your mothers face.

"Oh and. . . before I go. . . tell Xiao to stay happy. . . and that I love him."

The lights started to go dim, eyes slowly closing before your slow breathing stopped-

Permanently.

Your funeral was held at a nearby cemetery. Your coffin was the color brown, a glass covering the top of it so they could see you. Xiao was there, staring at your face. When he got the news that you died, his world fell apart. He thought this was just some sick joke, but the body in the coffin proved him wrong. He could faintly see flower petals near your mouth.

Your funeral and seeing your body is what made Xiao cry and scream out in agony and sadness. "No No NO! (F/N) don't leave me!! Please tell me this is a joke please! (F/N)! I love you please don't leave!"

He prayed and prayed that you would wake up. . .

But his prayers weren't heard.

One week after your funeral, Xiao's whole demeanor changed. He was a calm boy who would speak only when spoken to. But now, he doesn't speak. He ignores all his friends, he ignores your parents, he ignores everyone. He stays cooped up in your room. Sleeping on your bed and smelling your scent that lingers on it. Oh how he misses talking to you, your bright smile was what made him feel alive.

He was laying on your bed one day (as usual) and for some reason, he felt a bit sick. He brushed it off thinking it would go away in a few hours. But it only got worse.

He rushes to the bathroom then looks at the mirror. He looks terrible, bags under his eyes and skin looking a bit pale. He suddenly lurches forward, coughing and gagging.

He looks down and laughs a bit. Petals, beautiful petals covered in blood.

Looks like he's going to suffer with this disease as well. . .

Unusual contraptions¹ - cars

#xiao x reader #genshin impact #gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #bitter angst #isekai

131 notes · View notes

taishispit · 4 years

Note

Welcome to Tumblr! <3 May I request some Fatgum hc's (sfw or nsfw, I'm fine with anything, haha), if you want, that is :3 On another note, Thank You <3 <3 <3

hi sldjdjsk this means a lot to me, thank you so much 🥺 i’ll write sfw and nsfw cause i in fact want this man to fold me like a lawn chair 🏃💨

fatgum headcanons

warnings!!!: swearing, nsfw under the cut, some bottom!taishiro

sfw

this big teddy bear of a man will make food for you every chance he gets

i just know he can cook like gordon ramsay, i will not debate this one 😼🤚

he loves when you cook for him though, no matter how good you can cook

he just loves that you made something he’s passionate about, just for him

he’s like teary eyed ‘you made this just for me?’

yes sir

he has no care for your bodily imperfections, he loves them regardless

oh, you’re chubby? this man loves that. you’re skinny? loves that too. scarred? loves it. stretch marks? loves it. the list literally goes on forever, he’ll love you despite anything you dislike about your body

he thinks your body is the most amazing thing he’s ever seen

will confront anyone who doesn’t use your pronouns or respects your sexuality

this man has god tier cuddles

he’s so plush and soft

he’s so warm too

he’s like a giant teddy bear and heated blanket in one

taishiro would 100% let you use him as your bed

he loves when you lay ontop of him so he can wrap his arms around you

loves to play with your hair all the time !!!

loves when you play with his too, but won’t admit it because it makes him flustered 🏃💨

will make any excuse he can to put his hands on you

like if you’re out and about, he’ll literally carry you on his hip just cause ‘your feet look tired’

‘i’ve walked 100 feet at max, please put me down taishiro’ 🧍

he insists on holding you just so he can touch you, and you figure this out, but you’re so whipped it doesn’t matter to you

this guy will probably bring up marriage every other week and how he wants you to be his completely, but will drop it if it makes you uncomfortable or you’re not ready for that kind of commitment

would pay for the ENTIRE wedding as long as you took care of the cake situation

he would love to shop with you for your dress or tux or whatever you wear, he doesn’t even give his personal opinion, he wants you to wear whatever you want and what makes you feel good

he’s wrapped around your finger, entirely, and the ring he gives you is just a reminder that he belongs to you completely

nsfw

this one is so overdone and painfully obvious, but,,, foodplay

will slap whipped cream all over your body just to suck it off

his favorite snack is between your legs though

you taste so sweet to him, you literally have to pry his mouth off your sex he loves it so much

he can really put that tongue to use 😀

you CANNOT convince me taishiro isn’t into dumbification

MAN WILL FUCK YOU STUPID WITHOUT REMORSE

you’re being a brat? tai will overstimulate you until you’ve learned your lesson

he loves to hear you babble on about how full he makes you feel, how he fills you up

HAS A HUGE FUCKING SIZE KINK

goes feral at the feeling of how easily he can manhandle you

lifts you up with ease and sinks you down onto his cock

will full nelson you often aljsdhjaks

probably also very into watching you get off in front of him and mutual masturbation

if you’re topping though, he’ll love letting you fuck him face down and ass up

loves sticking that phat ass out for you 😌

wants you to spank him but he won’t tell you because he’s embarrassed about it

if he’s bottoming or maybe even just subbing, he’ll usually let you take full control over him

wants you to do whatever you want to him, you are his master

he’s your little plaything

please don’t be gentle

he knows you can’t exactly manhandle him like he manhandles you, but he’d love for you to grab him, lift his legs up, or even hold his body close to yours

PLEASE I LIVE FOR BOTTOM TAISHIRO IM LITERALLY SOBBING RN

honestly, he’d probably jizz his pants at the thought of you getting off to him crying

he’s probably really sensitive and loves being vulnerable when he’s submissive, he just wants you to dote on him the entire time

thank you for requesting from me; it really does mean a lot. i’m sorry it took longer than i expected, i’ve been a bit busy, but i hope you liked it 🥺

#taishiro toyomitsu x reader #fatgum x reader #fatgum #bnha headcanon #mha x reader #bnha x reader #toyomitsu x reader #taishiro x reader

426 notes · View notes

mcfreakin-bxtch · 4 years

Text

Young Gods (Mandalorian AU)

Pairing: Sin!Din (or OOC just in case) x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral (m &f), Fingering, Light choking, Daddy kink, Thigh riding, Rough sex, Soft sex, Use of a safeword, Drug/Alcohol use, Violence, Guns/blood, Mentions of death, Mentions of police (not heavy), Language, Fluff, Barely there angst. (if I’m missing any I apologize)

Word Count: 12K+

Summary: Taken in by the Guild in the rough part of the city, you quickly meet Din Djarin, the best of the best. Who knew of the path it would lead you to?

A/N: The warnings did change from the preview, that’s always a given. I was going to make this fic a little darker but got carried away with it, but I’m willing to write oneshots off this because I simply love it. Also HUGE thanks to @ben-is-a-hoe for their unwavering patience for their request, you rock

***

You never knew your parents. Your biological ones, anyway.

Lila and Billy took you in at a young age, raised and treated you as their own. Life was good with them, and they were amazing parents; you loved them, always had a good relationship with them but you just… fell into the wrong crowd.

It didn’t take long for the fallout. The screaming matches when you came back home in the middle of the night, sometimes in cuffs or other times wasted with the new necklace you managed to snag. They kicked you out when it became too much and really, you don’t blame them. Not at all.

From then on you jumped from group to group, big and small, did the jobs, and left. You never stayed, not for long, no matter what; they could never hold you down.

So when Greef Karga found you pocketing the screamers and betters of cage matches down in Sorgan and asked you to join his Guild, you said yes on the spot.

Bounty hunters. Mercenaries. Thieves.

Call them what you like, they just got the job done. With good pay.

They reside in one of the most dangerous parts of the city, hidden in the shadows of the deep underground, in a warehouse that’s not too noticeable or colorful. Nervarro is pleasing to the eye day and night, if you turn away from the horrors that coincide within. That’s the trick, how it drags you into its claws.

That’s how you’re about to meet ‘Target Practice’ Din Djarin, infamous for his name from a well known joke after a job well done.

“Tell them, tell them what you said after the state of that guy.”

“Tell them how you always get the job done.”

“Tell them the joke man.”

“What’d you say? To that guy right before…”

“Target practice.”

Though he doesn’t have a big name (yet), word still travels around about the Guild’s best bounty hunter, rarely seen without the signature leather jacket that signifies the kind of group you’re in; his signet is printed proud and big on the back of it.

“Yeah Din Djarin, you know, the guy who fucked up Ran’s group. Took them all out like it was nothing.”

He’s dangerous. Ruthless. Punk. Traveler.

You wonder if you’ll be here long enough to add more to the list.

“Relax, kid,” Greef pats you on the back.

You hadn’t realized your anxiety was showing. Why are you nervous? This isn’t your first time meeting someone equally dangerous, and he is going to be your new partner, after all.

Because sometimes he comes back with trickles of blood on his knuckles.

“Ah, and there he is!”

Din come’s strolling in like he owns the place, with, of course, that jacket, skinny jeans and (biker?) boots; he oozes swagger and confidence, the kind that can really irk a person. And what kinda makes it worse is that he’s handsome as fuck, too, even in the punkish get out. Dark, floofy curls that match the intensity of his eyes—and his outfit—plump, chapped lips with a curl, crooked nose and tan skin; he’s beautiful in your eyes, but you are not going to admit that.

“Din, this is the new recruit. She doesn’t know much now, but she’s got a lot of spitfire and eagerness to make up for it. Set her up, make sure she’s comfortable, then get to work.” Greef nods at the both of you and walks away.

Oh, great.

“H-hi,” you clear your throat. Pull yourself together! You tell him your name and stick your hand out.

Dark chocolate brown eyes glimpse once at your hand before he shakes it; firmly and short, with no smile or offered greeting in return. You expected as much.

“Start off by telling me what you know first.”

His voice. Oh his voice is light with age but deep and gruff; it could melt you and put you to sleep.

“Well I can pick locks, and I’m pretty okay at stealing.” That sounds so pathetic compared to this batch.

“Hand-to-hand it is today. Follow me.”

You follow him around the warehouse—a big, comfy warehouse you’re finding out—and he leads you to what you can automatically tell is the gym; or training room, you should say. He walks around the mat in the middle of the room, and throws a set of keys inside what you assume is an office and shuts the door with a click.

“Before we do that, I want you to show me your skills,” he instructs. “Karga is cheap, and so is about everyone else here. They’re not going to be happy if they cannot get into their office, or if they have to break the door down to get in. So prevent that from happening, newbie.”

Newbie?

“Newbie?” You repeat. “What are we in, middle school?”

You could’ve sworn his lips just twitched there, but he quickly shakes his head and huffs, leaning against the wall next to the door with his arms crossed.

He doesn’t say anything, and you realize that he’s waiting for you, so you kneel down and take your pins out of your pocket—a habit to always, always have them in hand.

You twist your wrists carefully, listening for little clicks and ticks, until it lets out one more loud one and swings open under your pressure; he had to have known it was an easy one, so when you stand up and look at him, he looks unbothered and unimpressed.

“Good,” he pushes himself off and shrugs his jacket off, throwing it on a chair nearby. He’s wearing a short, black sleeve shirt underneath, with jeans on, too. So are you.

“Should we change into something more comfortable or?” You ask awkwardly.

He ignores you again and climbs in between the ropes of the ring. You sigh and climb in, thanking the Maker you didn’t fall or get tangled; it’s a lot harder than it looks, okay?

“Okay, now wh—”

Your feet sweep out from under you. It all happens so quickly, you don’t even know what hit you and you’re falling straight on your back on the hard, wooden mat. A gust of wind leaves your chest in huffs, your back arching and stinging under the assault.

“What the—ow, fuck—what the fuck was that?” You wince as you help yourself up, rather pathetically if you ask but you just got your ass handed to you in the simplest way.

“You need to be aware of your surroundings” Din says, not in a gloating way as you suspect most of the others would show towards the new people, but in a way that’s instructional and you internally thank him graciously for it. “Doing these jobs, being a part of our group, it means you have to be alert at all times. Understand?” You nod. “Good. Let’s go again.”

“Okay,” you take a deep breath, bouncing on your feet. He puffs his chest out a little—he’s got a slim but muscular build, not by much but you know it’s there—and you clench your fists, readying them in a defensive stance.

“Good, you know that much.”

It’s so sarcastic you want to punch him.

So that’s what you try doing by lunging at him, hoping to catch him off guard—and hey, on the first day too? You can use that—but next thing you know his wrist wraps around your closed fist and twists.

“OW!” You howl, straining under the pressure; he twists your arm just a little deeper, making you flinch in return.

Pine, you smell pine, leather, and… you think that may be gunpowder.

“Don’t be so predictable,” he says, barely there whispers of his breath hitting your neck. You hope he doesn’t feel the shiver that just went through you. “Trying to catch someone by surprise can be good, if you know the right way to do it.” He finally lets you go and you sigh in relief as you clutch your arm to your chest. “We can stop for today, if you want.”

You want to say yes in the worst way, already so done after feeling like your arm was about to be ripped out of its socket, but you also don’t want to seem like you can’t handle it on the first day.

“No, I can keep going,” you tell him confidently.

He takes you down again and again, and when you’re eventually shown to your room, you pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow with a very, very sore and beaten body.

The smell of pine is faintly stuck on your pillow, and when you wake up, you think about that one curl on the top of his head that twirls almost down to his eyes.

***

Din trains you endlessly for weeks and weeks and weeks until you start showing progress.

The fighting is actually easy once you get the hang of it, and you’re proud to say that you’ve knocked the man off his feet once or twice.

What’s frustrating though is that, for being your new partner, he barely talks to you at all. Sure, when it’s during training or about jobs he will, but other than that he makes no attempts on at least getting to know you. It pisses you off when you see him trailing behind his small group of friends, a whiff of smoke that smells green airing off them, laughing up a storm with them.

And what’s worse is that you’re not sure why you’re so hurt and frustrated by this. It’s not like you were supposed to be friends or anything. That was usually your number one rule.

It’s the dreams, you think. It’s the smell of pine and leather and powder that’s specifically Din. It’s imaging what his cock would feel like pounding into you. It’s watching silently from afar, trying to piece the enigma of a man out; the puzzle.

It’s when you catch him glancing away from you when you turn to him, whether that be during training or across the room during a meeting or that one time, when you got caught in the rain and ran up to your room, drenched and shivering, and you accidentally ran into him in the middle of the hallway.

“I’m sorry!” You scrambled in his arms.

His warm, very warm, strong arms.

You looked up, waiting for him to let you go, but his arms stayed wrapped around you. When you looked up to say something—hey, there’s a puddle starting to form at my feet and I’m sure you don’t want damp clothes for the rest of the night, wherever you’re going—you didn’t miss the way his eyes sought after the beads of water that was trailing down your face and chest, or the way he quickly licked his lips when they slipped underneath your shirt.

It made you shiver in a different way and he noticed.

Finally he seemed to shake himself out of his daze and backed away from you like you lit him on fire; perhaps in a way, you did.

It’s when you find yourself studying him; when he’s eating lunch alone, when he’s leaning against a corner of a wall in whatever room you may be in, watching everyone else. When he never turns down a job and always usually comes back successful and you feel glad.

And especially when, in the middle of training, he’ll press up extra close to you, letting you feel the hard (soft) planes of his body, or when his hands linger longer than they should on your knees when helping you stretch.

It’s like this building tension between you that’s so thick you’d need a machete to cut through it.

But other than that, you can’t complain.

“C’mon tough guy,” you mock, bouncing on your feet on the mat.

Din stands up, rubbing his neck in a wince and throws you a dirty look.

“Don’t be an asshole,” he mumbles.

“I’m not,” you say defensibly. He leans on one of the ropes, lifting it up. “Oh come on really?” You pout, stomping towards him. “I barely lifted you up and you’re acting like a chi—I–ILD!”

You scramble and flail like a chicken with its head cut off as you fall, barely able to blink before you’re flat on your back. You groan in pain with what little strength just left your body—it’s really not that bad because he took most of your fall with his—

Holy shit you didn’t realize he was practically laying on top of you.

His breathing is even compared to yours, with his hands wrapped around your head and lower back, preventing you from being seriously hurt; the tip of his nose is touching yours and, today, you can smell the Melioorun on his breath.

This feels like one of the most awkward and hottest moments of your life. You don’t move, don’t speak or breathe, and one day you’ll have to ask him how he always stays so fucking calm when it feels like you’re about to explode any second now.

Should you move? Just bite the bullet and risk it all?

His warmth leaves you just as quickly as it happened in the first place and holds his hand out. You stare at it dumbly for probably too long and take it; it doesn’t help when his hand flexes in yours.

“Guess I deserved that,” you say sheepishly.

It’s hard to decipher what he’s thinking about. His expression is unreadable to you and he’s characteristically quiet as always—so, what’s new, really?

“You start a new lesson tomorrow.” He says, and walks away just as you’re about to ask what it is.

That night it’s the juice and his arms you come to.

Does he know?

Now, you’re assigned to Omera, a very kind woman, who is going to teach you on how to shoot. You hear it’s not hard to figure out.

“Hi!” She greets warmly in a hug. “It’s very nice to finally meet Din’s new partner.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Don’t think he likes me very much.”

“Oh he’s like that with every new person he meets,” she assures you gently while setting up the targets. Target Practice. “I wouldn’t take offense to it. Just need to give him some time.”

“Right,” you nod absently.

“Here.” She hands you a pair of sound cancelling headphones. “Put this on and grab the gun when you’re ready.”

Your heart beats a little faster when the cool heavy weight of the pistol touches your skin. Omera shows you the proper stance and how to set your sights, and lets you try your first shot on your own; the kickback is small, and the thrill is accelerating.

“Wow okay,” you laugh, setting the gun down very gently and taking the headphones off. She joins you, probably knowing the kind of high you’re feeling right now.

“It takes a little bit of time to get used to,” she explains. “But you take your time with this. Better safe than sorry, right?”

You wanna be as good as ‘Target Practice’ Din Djairn?

“Right.” You nod.

This lesson is longer than Din’s regular, but considering, it’s nothing but fair. When it’s over and you go out to eat, you’re surprised to see the man that’s been pestering your thoughts just about everyday, sitting at the bar with a cold drink in his hands; alone.

Your palms start to slicken with sweat. Should you go over there? Just casually sit down like you didn’t even notice he was there? Was it really worth such a bother in the first place?

Your heart thuds in your ears as your body decides that, yes, it was time to make a move; he was your fucking partner for Maker’s sake.

“Hey,” you greet normally—just like you didn’t notice he was there.

He looks up at you in surprise, clutching the glass in his hand tighter. He scowls and that makes you feel so small under his gaze. You should’ve just walked away.

“What’re you doing here?” He asks annoyingly.

Okay, now you’re just as annoyed as he is. “Why are you always such a dick to me, huh?” You demand quietly to not make a scene. “I barely know you and you act like I pissed in your drink.”

He snorts, looking in front of him now. “You didn’t do anything,” he sighs. You listen intently. “I just… look, right now this is just about work, alright? I don’t need anyone or anything distracting me.”

You roll your eyes in mild disgust. “Oh please, stop acting like the world revolves around you. There’s nothing wrong with at least being civil with the people you’re working with, no matter how much you don’t like them, and quite frankly, I don’t like being treated like shit for something I didn’t even do.”

Din turns back to you, staring at you with those intense eyes, not giving you the slightest hint of what he can be thinking about right now. It makes you not only nervous, but giddy, too; it’s enough for a small pool or arousal to flare between your legs.

Finally he takes a large gulp of his drink, setting the empty glass down with a slam. “You’re right.” You gleam. “Tomorrow. You think you’re ready for your first job?”

On a whim, you say yes. He nods and reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, slapping a handful of credits on the bar; the bartender reaches over to take it.

“It covers her tab, as well,” Din tells him.

You stare off in shock as he walks out of the bar.

***

Okay. Your first job. A simple, easy job.

And you’re stuck in a small ass closet with a man who smells so fucking good and is currently pressed tightly against you, watching through the blinds for our quarry to come.

It’s been at least an hour of this.

Now the whole reason as to why you’re in a closet, is well, people. This man must love handing his keys out to his friends—or family, you don’t give a shit—and you were nearly caught twice before Din decided it was best to wait it out by hiding.

You feel okay, that’s not what the problem is—you mean, you would really love it if you didn’t have to stand in a small space for seemingly hours now—but that’s not all that’s getting to you.

It’s the man directly next to you that keeps bumping his hand against your thigh, so very close to your ass, and while most of it is accidental, you think that the other bumps are not. The warmth of his body is also quite distracting. Your mind starts flowing between images of what it may look like if he ever fucks you and what might happen when the quarry walks through that door.

“Stop moving,” he growls. Your leg hits the space between his, luckily lightly enough that it doesn’t sting but he grabs your shoulder to stop you.

You can’t help but squirm again. “I’m sorry, this is just—hprm—uncomfortable.”

Din sighs and looks back through the blinds. “It could be another hour before he comes, so please just stop. Moving.”

You give him the best glare you can muster, and give him the finger since you’re at it.

Another minute goes by. Tick tock. Maker it’s too hot for this. You didn’t sign up for this shit. You should be out there stealing something or picking locks like you were picked to, not stuck in this closet. Not with the Din Djarin, who can’t even grumble an ‘hi’ to you most days.

Is it always going to be like this until you leave? Will Din still come to you, then, in your dreams, with honey dripping from his lips?

…Are you seriously about to consider fucking like this?

“Stop it,” he suddenly snaps. “I can practically hear your thoughts and it’s not making this situation any better.”

Pfff.

You purposefully jab your elbow deep in his ribs, happy with the pained grunt you receive. “Go fuck yourself.”

He curses and moves, childishly trying to put space between the two of you, and you swear you don’t know how this happens in the midst of your arguing and scurrying, but his knee ends up right against your clothed core and your thigh unintentionally rubs against the crotch of his skinny jeans.

It’s barely there, but it still feels amazing.

His hands, large and rough, grip your forearms tightly; not enough for it to hurt, but enough to get the point across.

“Stop.” It comes out in a whisper, brushing right against the shell of your ear. Your pussy slickens and you can’t move, too enthralled with the turn of events (is he getting hard behind you holyfuckhemightbe) to reconnect with your mind.

Curiously, you ponder on whether it’s always going to be like this, this little dance you and Din like to play—no, I wasn’t staring at you. No, I don’t think about you at all. No, that’s not how you’re supposed to do this, or steal that. No, that’s not my dick pressing up against you right now. No—

“You know I don’t normally fuck on the first job.”

It comes out so thickly from you that it surprises even yourself. You practically hear the moment he freezes and stops breathing, and a smirk graces your lips in triumph.

Before he can react, if he was going to, you hear the door that you carefully picked through open and in walks your quarry, sighing in relief as soon as the door closes behind him; if only he knew.

Din busts out, gun in hand like none of that did not just fucking happen, pointed at the man—Terry, you believe you saw on the file—who flails against the door, trying to open it. Your gun scares him enough to make him stop.

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

You smirk at the line. It sounds so much like him.

“L-look I’ll pay you double! Both, e-each, and I’ll-I’ll disappear, I swear!”

You look towards Din with a side eye glance, just for your own amusement; you’re glad that he plays along, making a pathetic whimper escape from Terry’s lips.

“Not gonna happen,” you chime. “C’mon, don’t make this harder for any of us.”

Terry is smarter than he looks because he reluctantly nods. You put your gun back into its holster and pull the cuffs snugly tight around his wrists.

“Good choice.”

Easy.

Din watches you silently as you lead the way to the car given (stolen) to you—a gorgeous black convertible—and, now you’re positive about this, you’re absolutely sure you felt his eyes on your ass the entire time.

You wiggle when you help Terry into the seat and bend over riiiight as Din walks by to get to the other side. When you slide in the passenger side, his jaw is clenched tightly and his nose is open in a flare.

Ha.

***

His friends invite you out to celebrate.

Given that it was your first job—an easy one, really, with no blood spilt and an easy capture—that must mean that you’re worthy enough to be part of the clique now. Which means going to the local bar and drinking till the heart's content.

You asked Omera if she would join you, but respectfully declined so you asked your other friend, Jem, whom you liked but she was rather loud. She said yes, of course, which is how you end up at the bar in one of the booths in the back, watching Din play pool and nursing a few fruity and expensive drinks.

Jem already left you in favor of a young woman who made Jem giggle like a schoolgirl at every chance; well, good for her.

So it was just you in the booth, debating on how drunk or sober you should be tonight. You’re leaning more towards the latter considering Jem wanted to drive you here when a shadow looms over you.

“Wanna get outta here?”

Din stands over you, looking so intently at you. You gulp and nod your head without even thinking.

He indicates with a tilt of his head to follow, and you do without so much of a glance back—other than to let Jem know that you were leaving.

He takes you to the back of the bar and through your confusion you realize he’s walking to a polished black motorcycle; you recognize it, see him with it so many times and yet it doesn’t register in your brain in that moment until you see it. You slow down at the sight of it.

“You scared?” He asks when you stop.

“Well I—” you lick your dry lips. “—I’ve never ridden on one before.”

He nods in understanding and holds out a helmet. “Trust me?”

You hesitate, not because it’s him that you don’t trust, but it’s the vehicle itself you do not trust. “Yes. Just please don’t crash.”

He chuckles as you slip the heavy protection over your head and sits himself down, waiting for you to situate yourself behind him before he starts the bike. The loud rumbles vibrate through you immediately and when he revs it you screech and clutch onto his middle in a death grip.

“Hold on tight!” He shouts and takes off.

The lurch barely drives you back yet it feels like you’re about to fall. Your head spins under the pressure, and your stomach is doing flips and turns all over as he pushes through the wind.

You don’t want to open your eyes. You’re not very keen on seeing your impending doom, and this has to be one of the most scariest, exciting moments of your life.

You feel him zigzag through the roads and alleyways; it’s late, late enough to where there’s no traffic in sight and the city is almost quiet. After moments of encouraging yourself, you finally open your eyes and pick your head up.

Boy are you happy you did. You can see why Din likes riding this; it’s freeing, feeling the wind brush around you, buildings and lights blurring from the speed. Knowing that at any moment anything can happen but you don’t care; you’re invincible.

You can also feel the warmth seeping off him and it reminds you of the closet; the vibrations under you doesn’t make it any better.

Before you know it you’re already back at the warehouse. You’re a little disappointed, both from the short joyride and the short time spent with him, but it’s not like you’re exactly that surprised, either.

You stand up on trembling legs—the good kind—and hand Din his helmet back with a smile. “Thank you.”

He nods and findles with the straps, looking down at his feet. You don’t know whether you should start walking away or not, so you shift on yours.

“Wanna smoke with me?” He looks up. “On the roof?”

You grin, knowing what kind of smoke he’s talking about; it’s not your first time, and he’s asking you. “I’ll bring the snacks?”

He smiles; it’s a beautiful smile, a breathtaking one. “Yeah.”

You’re practically skipping towards the kitchen once you’re inside and you watch Din run up to his room. You grab a bunch of snacks that you like and have to wander around aimlessly for the ones you’ve seen Din pick off for minutes before you eventually have your hands worth and sneak up as quietly as you can to the rooftop. You kick at the door once you’re at the top.

Din helps you place the snacks by the chairs he has set up. When you sit, you understand why he picked this spot; it faces directly towards the quietest and darkest part of the city, making it so the moon and stars shine brightly above. On this type of night, with a cool and gentle breeze in the summer air, it’s perfect.

“There’s a blanket,” he interrupts your thoughts. He throws the thick pullover at you and you catch one part of it, the rest of it draping over your lap and slapping your face; he chuckles when, again, you give him the finger.

He rolls the joint and you watch, his fingers moving delicately and expertely over the wrap. It’s even better watching him take the first hit, the way he inhales the smoke and holds it until he exhales it in swirls, his adams apple bobbing. When he passes it to you, you do it exactly the same.

“Didn’t take you for the type,” he comments.

You pass it back. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Din.” You tease. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

“Fair enough.” Pass. “So tell me then.”

This catches you off guard. “Oh,” you exaggerate. “Now you wanna know.” You both laugh, the effects setting in. Pass. “What brought this on?”

Pass. It’s out by then, but it’s not like you mind so much; he’s already rolling another.

“You really wanna know?”

The way he asks it is like a dare. I dare you to say yes, because you may or may not like what you hear, but I promise you’ll be thinking about it.

It is a tempting dare.

And you’re falling for it.

Hit. Pass. “Yes.”

Your body tingles with excitement when he eyes you up and down, goosebumps flaring your skin. Pass. Another second goes by. Pass. His eyes are getting darker if that’s possible.

Your pussy is officially drenched now.

“I know you watch me sometimes,” he says casually. Your heart stops. “I get it, I do… I pay attention to you, too.”

You don’t know whether your heart is going to completely stop or burst through your chest. “Yeah?” It comes out breathless.

“Yeah.” Pass. “I know that you like that awful soup Rully likes to make.” The old man can make a mean soup! “You’re a thief, though it’s in moderation, save for that convertible of yours. You like to draw, I see you doodling on the walls all the time. You never stay in one place for long because you’re afraid of becoming attached, but mainly because you like to be free. You scrunch your face in this weird, adorable way when you’re concentrating, and you’re kind; you’re a good person and a good friend and I… as your partner, and maybe even friend, I trust you.”

Hit. Pass.

You were speechless.

How can you even top that off? You thought you had him all figured and yet here he is, blabbing facts about you that you didn’t even know he knew.

Hit.

“You like to be alone,” you start. “But you crave moments like these, too, with someone you’re comfortable with. You try to avoid conflict if you can despite your reputation, but you’re also not afraid to take it to that… level if need be. You respect the Guild and everything in it, and you want to be free, just like I do, and I can see that in the way you ride your bike, and the way you look at the sky now. It’s addicting, isn’t it? Being able to do what you want when you want, however you want, the peace and quiet you get with it...”

He spreads his legs slightly wider as you pass the joint back.

This moment is tense. It’s in the air, in the way the smoke curls around you and the way the dirty thoughts in your head makes your skin prickle even more.

He’s looking at you in a way that makes you feel there’s nothing in the world but this. And you can’t help but feel like you understand him a little more now.

“I’ve been thinking about the closet,” he finally says. Your breath hitches.

A few seconds go by and you vaguely think that he’s probably waiting for you to answer, to see if this is okay.

“M-me too.”

The chair squeaks quietly under his weight. “You felt it, didn’t you?” He almost coos this sweetly. “The way I was starting to get hard from your ass rubbing against me. You just could not stop moving and I started to think about all the things I’ve been wanting to do to you for so long.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” You whisper—it feels right to, as to not disturb this precious moment that’ll either make or break you.

He shrugs, looks away like he has been doing when he’s getting shy; it’s an odd sight coming from such a man as himself, but it’s also cute and endearing. “I don’t know… I haven’t—I mean I have it’s just—”

Din sighs in frustration. You get it—well, you get that he’s struggling, but not exactly sure as to why—and you don’t want to push him if he’s not ready to tell you what it is he wants to say, so you ignore the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach and sit up straight.

“You want an encore?” You interject boldly. “Because I’ve been thinking about it too.” You stand up, reveling in the way his eyes never leaves you; you have his whole attention now. “How your body was pressed just right against mine. How, some nights, I do imagine fucking you until you can’t handle it.” He audibly inhales sharply.

You’re standing in front of him now, looming over him just as he did you at the bar. You feel powerful just doing this with the way his eyes light up and his mouth hangs slightly open and his fist tightens on the armrest of the chair.

Nothing stops you from carefully settling each leg on either side of his hips, ass resting on his thighs. You take the joint from him and take a big, long hit. You hold it in as you stub it out and gently cup Din’s chin, digging your fingers on the undersides of his light stubble cheeks; open.

His mouth opens without resistance, taking in the cloud of smoke you’re breathing into his open mouth and nose. In the end, your lips meet his in a dirty, sloppy kiss that’s nothing but tongue and spit and teeth; it’s not perfect by all means, it’s a little painful with the clashing and there’s limited space given the chair, and, let’s be honest, your breaths are not the greatest either.

But it’s like a coil snaps and he growls, wrapping his arms around you, grabbing a fistful of your hair to angle your head however he likes as he viciously attacks your mouth; his tongue glides over your teeth, swirling with yours in a battle you both know he’ll win, and you whimper into the kiss when his hips buckle up into yours.

“Show me,” he orders gruffly. “Ride my thigh. Show me what you’ve been dreaming about.”

You don’t hesitate to jump off him and pull your jeans off—you stumble in your haste, but you could care less on how ridiculous you look doing it. You keep your underwear on, the air being slightly more chilly now, and climb back onto his lap and wrap your arms around his shoulder.

He grabs your hips and helps you adjust your hot, drenched pussy over his clothed, beefy thigh; he pushes your panties to the side and teases you with a swift swipe over your clit.

“Din,” you moan wantonly. At the first shallow thrust, you’re already a mess, the want finally getting the attention you’ve been begging silently for. Your clit slides deliciously against the rough fabric and you wish to the Maker above that you could scream as loud as you can without attracting attention, because by just the first few thrusts you’re already putty in his arms.

“Fuck I can feel you, pretty girl,” he gushes. “Even through my jeans I can feel how wet this pussy is for me.”

“For you,” you whine, continuing a slow grind. “For you, daddy.”

He groans and throws his head back when your knee bumps against his obvious hard on; it looks so big, even hidden behind clothes, and you know without a doubt that it’ll stretch you out to the brim. “That’s right babygirl. You’re doing good.” Then he grunts your name.

You know what that means, somehow, and move your hips faster against him. It feels too good. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire in all the best ways, like he’s everywhere all at once and consuming you. You don’t want it to stop, it feels amazing and holy shit he’s flexing his thigh.

He kisses you, makes you forget your own fucking name, and trails his lips down your neck, feeling around for your sweet spot. When he finds it behind your ear, he bites down and licks around the tender flesh.

“Fuck!” You hiss, your pussy fluttering around nothing, clit pulsing deliciously under the friction. “I want your cock, Din. Think about riding it just—“ you swirl your hips and rewards you with a guttural grunt. “—like this.”

He’s moaning with you now, gripping onto your hips tighter and tighter to the point of bruising, and you’re happy it will because you want to remember this moment, and the way just his thigh alone is making your cunt clench and body erupt in the most pleasurable way possible.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you moan, throwing your head back, clutching at the back of his neck and pulling on the small strands of hair you feel. “Din make me cum, I wanna feel it so fucking badly, oh shit.” You can’t stop, the words just escaping you like a broken faucet.

He pushes his leg harder against your pussy and moves hips upwards in time with your thrusts. “I-I am t-too,” he stammers in a pitch; it sounds so erotic coming from him. “Cum with me, cum for me, now.”

As if you needed the permission, your pussy spasms on his leg and gushes the tight jeans, your mouth open in a silent scream, body tingling and squirming in his grasp.

Din moans so sweetly it should be a sin and clutches at you, biting down on your chest through your shirt.

The air is perfect now for your slick, hot skin. It takes a few moments for your head to reconnect with the rest of your body, and when it does you slump your weight against him.

“Did you,” you take a deep breath, your voice hoarse and scratchy. “Do you want me to?”

Din looks up lazily from your chest, understands what you’re gesturing to and shakes his head.

“Already did.”

You look down and see the big, wet patch on the crouch of his pants. You laugh airily and stand up; your legs are wiggly, but your body is sated and happy, and he looks like he’s experiencing the same kind of bliss.

Your thighs, slick with your own juices, slide roughly against your jeans uncomfortably as you pull them on, watching him adjust himself and clean himself off as best he can with the blanket he threw at you.

“So,” you drawl. “Another session tomorrow night?”

Din smiles and sighs. “You read my mind.”

You feel like the happiest woman in the world.

***

It’s heaven.

Being with him. The late nights, where you come back from a fight or a job laughing and stumbling over your feet in desperation to feel the other. The fucking.

Din fucking you on every inch and corner of yours and his room any chance he has regardless if you’ll get caught; littering your skin with his marks and fucking you so hard you can barely walk without wincing the next day. Being able to feel the press of his lips against your skin, on your pussy, his hands caressing and bringing every ounce of pleasure from your body.

Whispered words stolen by a kiss. Giving pieces of yourself that he equally returns. Feeling whole and alive for the first time in your young adulthood.

It’s fucking paradise.

But the credits you have been saving reminds you of the intentions you had when first joining. You don’t even want to think about leaving right now.

It isn’t the right time to worry. You’re out on a stakeout with Din, looking for a highly dangerous and wanted woman who, and you heavily admire her for this, once plucked a man's eyeball out with her bare hand.

It’s the most fucked up and badass thing you’ve encountered yet.

“Wanna play 20 questions?” You ask out of boredom.

“No,” he huffs.

Grump.

“I Spy?”

“Fuck off.”

“Thumb war?”

“What did I say?”

“Suck your dick?”

“No. Waitwha—yes, we can do that.”

You giggle and playfully shove his shoulder. “Perv.”

“You’re the one who suggested it.”

“Yeah, only because you said no to everything else.”

“And we're on a job,” he quirks. “Pay attention.”

You stick your tongue at him. “There is such a thing as multitasking.”

“And I think you’re terrible at it,” he says, but it’s light to let you know he’s only teasing.

“Whatever.”

…

“You know I think you still have time to suck my dick,” he comments.

“Fuck off.”

She doesn’t show until the sun sets, which you should have expected given the track history; it was easier to disappear in the dark.

“There,” Din points to the dimly lit alleyway. She walks out of the door, looking both ways before closing it.

He moves quickly and quietly with you trailing behind. The goal is to try and make it to her before she drives alway; she’s worth more alive than dead.

You watch in the comforts of the shadows—she’s walking to a car that you hope is hers—and follow as close you can without raising suspicion.

Just as your feet hit the curb on the street she’s on, glass explodes behind you in shards.

She’s quick. You forgot to add that little detail.

It’s all happening too fast for you and you’re standing there like a shocked dumbass, a fish stranded on land. This is the first time that’s ever happened.

Another bang echoes through the still air and without warning you’re being shoved to the hard concrete ground, scraping your elbows and knees against the pavement.

“Fuck!” Din hisses in your ear. “You gotta cover me from the left.” You take your gun out of the holster and nod; breathe.

“Now!”

You whip up at the same time in different directions, guns up and aimed.

And when you hear a chorus of blasts, you hope to the Maker that Din is still standing to your right.

All you can hear is the sounds of your pants. There’s something lying on the sidewalk where she was at, with something even darker pooling around them.

Logically, it can’t be him because he’s supposed to be standing at your right, and there’s no logical way he got to the other side that quick, but you’re still in a state of shock by what just happened and where the fuck is he?

“Hey,” It sounds far away. You can’t even tell who it is. “Hey, baby.”

Baby. Only one person would be calling you that.

Your name. That’s the way he says your name. You hear it.

“Din?” There’s tears in the back of your throat, but you refuse to let them fall.

He’s here, in front of you, hugging you to his chest. You’re actually clinging to him, you can feel the leather beneath your fingertips and smell the powder and sweat on him.

It’s him. He’s alive. You both are.

“We need to go.” Sirens sound off in the distance.

You never ran so fast in your life.

The entire ride back you’re in a daze, replaying those fatal moments over and over until your hands start to shake. Din notices and places his hand on your knee, rubbing soothing circles; it helps a little.

You could’ve died. He could’ve died. It was the first time you were ever caught in a gunfight, been so close at death's door, and yet…

And yet as terrified as you were, there was also a thrill to it; a different kind of excitement you never felt before, a feral type that makes you push Din right up the garage doors of the warehouse as soon as they close.

He stumbles against the door, caught off guard by your sudden attack. You kiss him before he opens his mouth, your hands already desperately fumbling with his belt. Once it’s off you attach your lips to his neck, biting and sucking the taunt skin, while unzipping his pants; he’s already half hard.

He grabs a handful of your ass, moaning into the kiss when your hands touch the bare skin of his lower abdomen. When you caress the soft, velvet skin of his cock, he buckles in your grip.

“I’m gonna do what I said I would do,” you tell him as you get down on your knees, face to face with his leaking red tip.

You don’t give him the chance to react, darting your tongue out to lick around the head of him before taking him completely in your mouth, moaning at the salty taste and sliding down until he’s hitting the back of your throat with a gag from you.

His hips jerk without hesitance with a pained whine, making you choke around him. You have to unlock your jaw wider to make it comfortable for you. He fists your hair and keeps you still.

“Makerfuck pretty girl,” he groans deeply. “G-give me a warning next time.”

You hum, swirling your tongue along the veins of his thick girth. He lets you set the pace then and you pull him out for an intake of air, fisting and pumping your spit and his precum as lubricant.

“Can never get enough of this,” he pants, already tensing beneath your hands. “Seeing you on your knees for daddy. Fuck I wish you could see yourself right now.”

His breaths become ragged when you take him back in your mouth, this time fisting what you can’t fit and pumping him at a furious pace in tune with your mouth; you let your teeth scrape gently on the underside of the head.

“Hmm that’s it,” he hums. When you briefly look up, he has his head thrown back. “Keep going babygirl.”

The sounds you’re making is beyond obscene, and you’re well aware that anyone can just walk in at any given moment and become witness to this, but here’s the thing: you don’t care. If anything, it makes you suck him harder just to get more out of him.

“So good for me,” he sighs, now taking back control and thrusting shallowly. The sting of his tug adds to the growing pressure in your pussy.

You know he’s not going to last long by the way his breathing picks up and his thighs shake and tense; you dig your nails into the skin, and he whimpers, fucking whimpers.

“A-almost there sweet girl, cover it—yes just like that, beautiful, fuck. Keep going—mhmm.”

His moans get deeper with every slosh of your mouth and hand moving rapidly on his dick. The ache in your pussy is almost unbearable to ignore, but right now you want to make this about his pleasure; you want to be the one in control, bringing him to the same levels of euphoria he brings you and more, to hear those whimpers and growls directed at you.

A few more sucks and he’s twitching in your mouth, groaning a symphony of curses and praises.

“Fuck I’m gonna c-cum, go-gonna fill that pretty mouth of yours up, and you better swallow every drop, princess.”

Oh that’s got you gushing in your panties. You whimper, spit and drool trailing down your chin and the length of him, and slip your hand to his balls, giving them a gentle but firm squeeze.

“Shit, I’m—“ he chokes, neck going red and he cums like a bomb, instantly filling your mouth with his salty essence until there’s droplets of that dripping from the corners of your mouth.

You let him sit in your mouth until he comes to, enjoying the taste of him. He pulls your head back and doesn’t give you the chance for you to even catch your breath before he’s bending over and stealing it away with a dirty kiss; he moans at the taste of himself on your tongue and laps at the remnants of his cum.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

You help him put himself away and pull his pants up. You’re able to steal one more kiss before he’s dragging you out of the garage.

***

It’s been gnawing at you since the thought of leaving was implanted in your brain. The thought of leaving and living a life of your own without depending on anyone to achieve it.

It’s never bothered you before. You always left, no problems, no aches or regrets. But this one. This one was going to rip your heart out and stomp it to the ground until it could no longer beat.

The other night doesn’t help, either.

You want Din by your side. The thought of leaving him or worse hurts, really fucking hurts, and in the months of your trysts and smoke sessions and partnership and late night talks and that awful moment that you thought you lost him, you realized that you were falling in love with him.

When he told you about the loss of his parents, you fell in love with him. The fact that he trusted you enough to show you that part of his past made your heart beat funny in a good way.

“The Guild quickly found me after,” he explained, your body entwined under his sheets. “Hans was the one who found me, actually, and just so happened to reside here. Taught me basically everything I know. Greef came in not that long ago, and I brought Omera in just a few months before you showed up.”

You rubbed your hand up and down his chest, tracing the light, faint scars that scattered.

“So I feel like I owe them, you know?” He continued, absentmindedly tracing patterns on your back. “Because if it weren’t for them, I’d probably be dead by now.”

You froze. You didn’t like that. Ever since that night with the assassin, you didn’t like to think or so much as hear anything about Din’s death.

He must have noticed your sudden shift because he lifted your chin up gently and pouted. “And if it weren’t for them, I probably would have never met you, either.”

It did make you feel better and you appreciated the change. You hugged him impossibly tighter to you, feeling his heart skip a beat beneath your ear.

“I’m glad I met you,” you said into his chest.

He sighed, a happy one. “Me too.”

And followed by his fears, insecurities, hobbies and passions, it grew.

When he first held your hand as he ate you out, that love grew even larger. When he started to make sure you took care of yourself and vice versa, and never missed a chance at making you smile, you were absolutely fucked.

You’re terrified, obviously. It’s not like you’re in an actual relationship per say, at least, if you are—which you have quarrels with, of course—then it’s unspoken; you couldn’t be angry if he didn’t want to leave.

You just… want to feel that same type of freedom you felt that night. Build a life off of it. Although at this point, you just want any life with him.

So you’re going to tell him. Now. In your room, where he’s lying right across from you, naked as the day he was born, on your bed with his hands behind his head.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, tilting his head down to look at you. “I know somethings been bothering you all day.”

You sigh through your nose, pulling your sheets further up your chest.

It’s now or never.

“We should just… go,” you finally push out. “Like, ‘leave this place and don’t look back’ type of deal. Just drive off and create a new life for ourselves.”

A breath.

Silence.

It’s so fucking quiet you could hear a pin drop. His expression is unreadable, and you’ve gotten good at being able to read him since the half year went by. It’s too much already, making your chest ache and stomach pull in knots. You can’t take another second of silence.

“Never mind, forget I said anything,” you quickly backtrack, reaching for your clothes when his hand reaches out to stop you.

“Are you serious?” He demands. “W-why?”

He’s going to say no. You just fucked this all up.

You shrug your shoulders absentmindedly; he can see straight through your bullshit, anyway.

“I don’t want to be stuck here for the rest of my life,” you explain quietly, just enough for him to hear. “It’s great and all, don’t get me wrong. I… never intended to stay this long in the first place, you know that. And I know that you feel like you owe them but you don’t, Din.” You take his hand in your lap; he’s listening intently. “I’m not… I’m not forcing you to go. I’m not telling. I’m asking.” God you hope you don’t start losing it. “And if you don’t want to then… then we’ll figure it out. Or something…”

You’re too afraid to look at him. You’ve never felt so open and vulnerable like this before. It was foreign, alien to you and Din as well, you’re sure, so to say that you don’t expect him to roughly palm your cheeks between his hands and kiss you like there’s no tomorrow is a bit of an understatement.

“Yes,” He whispers against your lips. “Yes.”

You’re bursting. A smile so wide spreads across your lips and you’re laughing and tackling him on the bed, rolling around on the sheets as your lips clash clumsily.

“We’ll leave as soon as I make the credits,” he pecks your lips once, four times before you stop him.

“I have enough, and why wait?” You’re buzzed off the adrenaline, the knowledge that the man you’ve come to love is here in your arms, mirroring your smile with the wide, toothy one that you adore.

He laughs, his chest vibrating against yours with it. “Okay.” He trails the tip of his finger down the slope of your nose. “Let’s go.”

You don’t pack much, it’s not like you had a lot to begin with, and it’s easier travelling light when you have no real direction in mind. You both agree to take your car rather than the bike for obvious reasons and it makes you feel guilty; you also feel guilty by not saying a proper goodbye to Jem and Omera.

“Don’t worry,” he assures you, sticking the keys into the ignition. “I’ll get another one.” He winks at you and you laugh, all bubbly and loud.

Din puts the car in reverse and backs out of the garage in a hurry, not wanting to waste another precious moment. You wave goodbye at the building as it disappears behind you; you’ll miss the people, even that Cara Dune they stopped by for weapons or to see Din; they had a history, he told you once, and were just good friends.

“I left them a note,” Din suddenly says. “I knew you also wanted to say goodbye.”

You love him. You swear you love him more than anything in this galaxy.

You palm the back of his neck and rub, showing your appreciation. He grins and leans his head to the left, sighing pleasantly. The hood is down on the car, the air whipping around you with the city disappearing behind you.

You don’t find any traces of regret within you. This feels too good for it to be wrong.

He drives and drives for hours until you have to stop at a motel. It’s old and rundown, but it’ll do. Your room is on the first floor, which is best for the few cars that are scattered in the parking lot.

You’re on each other as soon as the door closes.

“Look at you,” Din marvels at your pussy from the end of the bed.

Your hips squirm under his arm, laid out across your lower stomach to hold you down; your clothes are thrown all over the room and you're completely bare to him, spread out like a meal for his taking. “I’ve barely even touched you, pretty girl.”

“Please,” your body is littered in bruises and bite marks, wired and ready to snap at any moment. “Just do something.”

He nips at your inner thigh in retaliation, caressing your leg and throwing it over his broad shoulder.

“What?” He croons. “What do you want daddy to do?”

“E-eat me out,” you plead. “Wanna f-feel your mouth on my pussy, daddy.”

That pleases him. “Alright princess, I got you.”

He’s been teasing you relentlessly since you’ve checked in, high off the newfound freedom you both found in each other. The sheets are scratchy and the tv barely shows a decent channel, and you’re pretty sure that the bathroom is in even worse shape, but this is everything.

“Yes!” You keen.

He licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, using the tip of his tongue to curl under the hood. “Oh my—mhmm.”

His nose brushes against your clit as his tongue ventures back down, licking and sucking in between your folds. The hot, slippery and textured organ pushes in and out of your entrance, tongue fucking you with an eagerness of a man starved.

Your mind starts to roll over in the pleasure induced haze and the coil in your stomach starts to tighten under his ministrations. He hums at the taste of you and practically envelopes your entire pussy in his mouth and sucks. Hard.

Your hips jerk, being pushed down as soon as they move.

“Din,” you whine, burying your fingers in his curls and tugging, earning a deep groan from the man devouring your pussy. He follows your guidance—he really loves it when you pull on his hair—and wraps his lips around your pulsing clit, sucking with audible slurps.

“Yes,” you gasp, arching your back the best you can. “F-fingers.”

He obliges without having to be told a second time, pushing your legs up slightly higher and sliding two thick fingers inside your fluttering cunt and scissoring them immediately. You whine and wither, it’s so much and not enough and you’re going crazy.

“What’s the matter, sweet girl?” He coos mockingly. “Is it here,” he stretches you wider. You mutter a breathless, “No.” “Here?” He motions teasingly right next to the spot that shoots bolts up your body. A small tear trinkles down the corner of your eye in frustration. “My poor baby is desperate, isn’t she?”

Under any other circumstances, if you weren’t so wrecked, you’d make a snotty comment to rile him up; it’s a whole other feeling when he fucks you like a wild animal, but you’ve been so desperate the moment you drove off that you continue to whine and beg him.

“I’m begging daddy,” you cry. “Please please I wanna cum on your mouth.”

He finally hits your sweet spot, curling and bumping against it until you're very close to screaming and your legs start to shake.

“Oh Maker I’m gonna—“ your entire lower half starts to tremble. When you look back down to meet his eyes, they’re closed and lost in his own pleasure, sucking harshly around your clit and scraping his teeth gently across the hood.

Din pulls back with a gulp of air before hoarsely saying, “Cum.”

He dives back in with a vigor and within five strokes of his fingers and tongue, your pussy clenches around his digits like a vice.

“Yesyesyesyes FUCK!”

It feels like you’re practically drowning with the man with the gushing feeling pooling from your core. He continues to eat you out, drinks the juices you give him with ease.

It’s too much. You keep pushing against his head but he growls and latches on to you tighter, sucking and fucking you even harder than before.

“S-st-stop,” you muster through the onslaught. “D-Din, Beskar!”

He stops at the safeword and with his chin glistening brightly in the dim light, teeth shining behind it like a wolf stalking its prey, you feel another short wave tingle through you; your body is flushed and spent, but you open your arms to him, welcome his just as equally bare body on yours, moan at the sweet taste of yourself on his mouth.

You feel the bulbous head of him at your entrance and with a nod from you, he pushes in in one smooth thrust; with his spit and your orgasm combined, he slides in with liquid ease and a wet, loud slosh of the mixed fluids he pushes through.

He swallows your whimper and settles himself to the brim inside you, the curls of his hair scraping against your pubic mound and his balls sitting comfortably on the base of your ass.

“I know, baby,” he coos softly. He runs his hand over your breast, twisting the hard, perked nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your hips buckle into his, making you both moan and close your eyes.

“C-can I move?” He grits between his teeth.

“Yes.” You wrap your legs around his waist.

He pulls out almost completely and thrusts back in without hesitance. The thrust is so hard that it pushes you up the bed.

“You’re already squeezing the fuck outta me girl,” he pants, holding himself above you. You grip onto his biceps and feel your cunt spasm around him again; you’re still very sensitive from the previous orgasm and it hurts in the best way possible.

“I ca—“ it’s so hard to think and talk and even breathe with his deliciously thick cock pounding into you with abundance.

He moans and somehow goes even harder and faster than before, the slaps of his hips against yours so fucking loud that you can’t barely hear the cars outside anymore.

“Gonna cum again?” He snarls. You nod weakly. “Fuck babygirl this pussy was meant for me, so good to me.”

A bead of sweat falls from his slick body and on your top lip; you wrap your arm around his neck and bring him down to you, licking the sweat off his neck. You bite down on the juncture between his neck and shoulder, making him grunt and his cock twitch inside you.

“Harder,” you gasp in his ear.

He groans and anchors himself by gripping onto the headboard tightly, slightly stopping the bed from banging against the wall like it has been for the past five minutes—you’ll be surprised if you don’t already receive a noise complaint.

Your lower stomach tightens again as your orgasm approaches and you can tell he isn’t far behind from you. “I’m gonna cum daddy,” you whimper into the air, head thrown back against the pillow. “C-can I?”

He plows into you like he’s never felt the walls of a pussy before and shifts his hips a little to the left. The reaction is instant.

“Oh Maker yes, keeping fucking me, right there.” The words are so ragged and broken.

“Cum all over me,” he demands gruffly, deep from within his chest, staring down at his meal and boasting. He wraps his hand around your neck and squeezes gently at first until you nod, and then more pressure until your eyes roll in the back of your head. “Make daddy cum. C’mon pretty girl, sweet, sweet girl, please.”

The combinations of his cock, hand, and the whimpered please that just left him do you in. You open your mouth but nothing comes out and the only thing you can feel is your cunt spasming around him, sucking him in when he pulls out; your whole self is lost in euphoria, but you can register his hips slamming sloppily into yours and the pitches whines that are tearing from his throat.

“Oh fuck fuck.”

He’s about to pull out. You’re not on the implant, it’s something you’ve been meaning to take care of, but this time… this time you don’t want him to. You want to feel all of him in this new light, have another part of him within you.

“No!” You clutch onto his neck as he reaches down in between your legs. He pushes himself up in shock but he takes you with him and now you’re seated fully on him—is it possible to feel this full and sore and complete at the same time?—as he sits back on his heels, staring at you in a mix of confusion and pain. You immediately feel guilty.

“You can—you can cum in me i-if you’re comfortable with it,” you stammer breathlessly, brushing the curls out of his face.

Din stares at you in complete wonder, panting and holding your waist in a tight grip that’s slightly painful but you know he’s struggling to hold on right now, so you don’t really blame him for it.

You’re starting to think you went too far. This is intimate; it’s a mark, it’s trust and security.

Suddenly he gives you a few, hard thrusts and he’s choking on a whimper, filling your stuffed pussy; it feels odd, but it feels just as good for you as well, especially when you see the blissed out look on his face, and you can already feel his cum and yours leaking from you and on to the sheets.

You’re too weak to hold yourself up anymore, so you lay your upper half on the bed while the lower stays connected to his. His hands run up and down your body, soothing the hot, slick skin while he continues to stare at you; those eyes are so intense that it’s hard to return it without feeling like you’re being consumed.

The only sounds in the room are your breaths. He lays his head down on your pelvis, gripping your hips in the same way the bruises show.

“Can I stay?” He eventually asks. You raise your eyebrows in confusion. “Inside you,” He clarifies, almost nervously.

You nod, too tired to move or speak, so he adjusts the both of you back to the pillows; he apologizes when you wince or hiss, laying you on your side so that you’re comfortable.

Din outlines the contours of your face as your eyes close, a barely there touch that tickles you but you make no moves to stop him.

He mumbles something but you can barely register what he’s saying, lost in the colors behind your eyelids.

There’s a soft, wet press on the top of your head before you disappear into your dreams.

***

It’s hard to keep a low profile with the way you two are going, and without the protection of the Guild anymore, the law is after you more than ever.

That doesn’t stop either one of you.

Nor does it strip the joy of the life you have with him.

It’s not always easy for the most part, but you still can’t find any particle of regret in you, or in him. It’s like you were meant for this—doing whatever the fuck you want, when you want, with your partner, in so many ways now, standing by you.

The sun is setting in the seering desert, the lines of a heat wave outlining it beautifully. The hood of your car is down, sunglasses on and Din.

Well Din is riding right next to you on his brand new bike, laughing and smiling with you. The cops are long gone now, lost in the trail of dust you left behind.

The whole chase was exhilarating, to say the least.

A new days version of Bonnie and Clyde. That’s what one of the papers called you. And no doubt, there was someone from the Guild coming after you for the hefty bounty that’s been placed on your heads.

“Let them come,” Din says now as you sit on the hood of your car, watching the earth settle into the shadows of the night on the side of the desert, barren road. He runs his hand soothingly on your head, scratching the scalp lightly much to your delight; you can fall asleep right here in his arms like this. “We can take them.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But sometimes I just can’t help but feel like… like—” You can’t finish.

“Look,” he sits up a little. “I don’t regret this. I don’t. I’ve never felt this happy in years and it’s because I’m with you. I’m experiencing this new life with you and that’s all I want. We’re fine, more than fine, and I have no problems reminding you for the rest of my days if that’s what it takes.”

He seems to always know what’s going through your mind and exactly what you need to hear to soothe it.

“Thank you.”

He gives your ass a squeeze. You snort and settle closer to his side. “I’m sure my parents are horrified right now.”

You don’t know where that suddenly comes from.

He shifts and you feel him look down at you, but doesn’t push you away. “Do you want to call them?”

It’s a dumb thing to do and he knows that, but you appreciate what he’s trying to do.

“No,” you sigh. “Can’t.”

“Hey,” he lifts your chin to look at him; the sun makes him look like a God. “You still got me, alright? Until the end.”

You kiss him. You try to pour all the words unspoken into it, all the love that’s filled your mind and body and soul.

He reminds you at the nearest motel around. This time, he takes his time with you, explores with more depth; no rush, no interruptions.

It’s soft, the way he cradles you gently and rocks into you. It’s caring, when he kisses you languidly and grinds his pelvis against yours, brushing delicately against your clit. Understanding, when he shushes you quietly. Stability, as he’s holding you close to him, your lips not even moving away from the other.

It’s love.

It’s love in the way your heart calls to him. The way you feel so safe and secure with him, knowing that no matter what happens, he’s the only person who will ever have your back in this shitty world.

It’s love by the way you no longer feel like you’re trying to find pieces of yourself. In being with him, you’ve come to realize that you’re whole now; you’re not searching anymore, you’ve found everything you need right here in him—in the Target Practice Din Djarin, Clyde to your Bonnie, whatever the fuck you want to call it.

And you tell him that, in hushed whispers. “I love you. Fuck I love you so much.”

Your heart bursts when he says it back. “And I love you. More than my own life.”

You giggle, just out of sheer joy and because you can and he joins you in equal pitch and giddiness.

His thrusts stay slow and languid, a contrast to your usual roughness, but it’s perfect for the way you’re pouring your heart out to him, as he is to you, in ways old and new.

“I’m yours,” he breathes on your lips as your core flutters around him. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

You won’t. You never will.

“And I’m yours,” you seal this in a hard clench of your pussy and revel in the way his eyes roll in the back of his head.

There’s no telling where you begin and he ends. It’s astronomical the way he seems to fit against you, in you, so perfectly, as if you really are a match made in Heaven. Or Hell. Or, you know, wherever you go after this life.

When he comes inside you, shivering in your arms with his adorably scrunched up face, you vow that, even if they end up catching up to you in the end, you’ll never leave him unless he asks you. You’ll fight through tooth and nail, and you almost want someone to even try it; they’re trying, and they’ll keep trying until they get their prize.

There’ll never be anyone like him in this entire galaxy.

And if he goes down, you go down with him.

Tags: @justlovetoreadfics, @lil-baby27, @mando-vibes, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch, @im-the-music-whore, @certifiedhunter, @softpedropascal, @domino-oh-damn, @okaydacre, @lemongrove, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd, @elusive-ivory, @dizzydazed, @dadzawas-eyebags, @parody-the-emi, @evalynanne, @purplewaterbird, @vikingqueen28, @tedpicklez, @blunt-cake-yes, @agoldin, @lustriix, @readsalot73, @kateb013, @eupphoriaaa, @imalovernotahater, @everything-lost-and-unsaid, @dlmafa1, @hoodedbirdie, @drunkenliterary, @fioccodineveautunnale, @fangirlfree, @mrsparknuts, @amarvelousmandalorian, @ironheart-hanako, @bunniotomia, @thisisthe-way, @sando-rann, @meganoid1997, @adikaofmandalore, @cahooter, @charliepeaceout, @dreamgirl-67, @phoenixhalliwell, @acrylics-and-sunshine, @sunkissed-winter, @oloreaa, @equalstrashflavoredtrash, @dyn-djarin, @ben-is-a-hoe, @altarsw, @pascaliprincess, @mandalwhoreian, @roxypeanut, @lark-cale

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian au #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #sin!din #sin!din x reader #pedro pascal #au #ooc #fanfic #din djarin x you

230 notes · View notes

fangirl-everythang · 3 years

Text

Happy Fathers Day Part 2

Summary: 2/3 Y/n and Harry make up, kind of. He gets to be a part of their baby's life.

Warnings: Fluff, Kinda Cute

Word Count: 1443

I cannot believe my little miracle is so big now. You can obviously tell I'm pregnant now and the media hasn't been pleasant. The constant harassment, rumors, and to top it off they're already hating on my baby- who is still in utero.

Today is the five-month ultrasound, I've been contemplating on getting the gender, but I think I want to know so I can decorate the nursery in the new apartment or at least add to what I've done. So far it hasn't been bad. I stayed at a hotel for two weeks until I secured a decent place to raise this baby. Meanwhile, Harry keeps trying to contact me, but I ignore him. He cheated and that's that. I do miss him a lot though. It isn't the same and this sure as hell isn't how I imagined being pregnant.

Ding Dong

I make my way to the front door not bothering to look through the peephole. My smile fades when I look at the person standing in front of me. Should have looked through the peep. When I go to shut the door, he presses it open. Allowing him in to not cause a scene he gladly slides past me.

"What do you want?" I ask softly moving to pack my purse.

"I needed to see you," he speaks, his voice low and raspy. Looking at him for the first time in a while, he looks hurt. His eyes have bags, he looks like he hasn't slept in forever.

"Sit. Do you want something, water, tea?"

"Shouldn't I be doing that for you?" He smiles slightly sitting on the couch.

"I'm pregnant, not immobile" He frowns and looks down at my swollen stomach. These stupid hormones are making me feel bad for leaving him. His gaze remains constant on my stomach I as I watch his features carefully. "Do you want to? "

He looks up at me with a confused expression, "Do I want to what?"

Standing in front of him I grab his hands and gently caress them. Placing one on each side of my extended tummy, tears brim at his eyes. He rubs gently trying to feel the little human inside of me. Suddenly a sharp pain is felt, then again where Harry's hands are. He grins up at me.

"Hey there little one," he croaks, more kicks are felt when he speaks "Daddy's here." Between the physical and emotional pain, I want to cry. "Be nice to mummy, she's treating you well" he then begins to place light kisses on the surface of my stomach. "I love you both so much," he says as I wipe under my eye to remove any trace of the silent tears I let fall.

"I miss you y/n" he whispers standing up. He holds me close to his chest. "I fucked up and I won't ever hurt you like that again just please, come back to me. " he rasps.

"Harry, I told you-" my phone interrupts my sentence.

"Hello... yes this is she... oh hi Dr. Walters... that works perfectly I was running late anyway... okay see you at 3:30"

Harry just looks at me questioningly, "What's that about?"

"Ultrasound appointment," I say rubbing my bump.

"What time was it before?"

"8:15 am well and you know traffic and whatnot it would've taken some time" he chuckles at me "So you woke up at 5:30?"

"Well yeah, and I enrolled in Lamaze classes which start at 1, I had stuff to do. Plus, the nursery, and buying baby clo-" his lips gently touch mine. Shocked at first but soon giving into his touch, I wrap my hands around his neck. "I love you so much y/n" he mumbles against my lips.

"I love you too Harry" he smiles. I'm weak for him. I also want my- our child to have two parents involved. He loves children too much to tear his own away from him, but all is not forgiven. Looking at the clock I sigh. He laughs "Me too," He knows me too well.

Grabbing his hand and guiding him upstairs to my bedroom. Lying in bed, fuzzy socks and all, I pat the spot next to me. He pulls shirt over his head and tugs his pants off for a good 10 minutes before they gave in to the constant harassment. I told him to stop wearing skinny jeans. He carefully climbs into bed with me. It hurts to lay on my back, all the weight is shifted towards my spine. Harry notices my discomfort and faces me towards him on my side. "I haven't been able to sleep," he says kissing my temple. I nod silently admiring his beauty. I've missed him, looking at him, he truly is beautiful. I hope our baby looks more like him.

"Me either"

"Do you know what we're having?" I shake my head no. "I was going to find out today, " he touches my belly again, looking as if he wants to say something but his lips just press into a line. "Go with me."

"What?" he grins, placing his hand on my stomach with so much care.

"Go with me Harry, I want you to be there." He smiles at me showing me those dimples I've fallen for countless times. Placing my hand over his. "I'd love to."

I grab his hand and kiss the back of it. Turning so my back faces him, he carefully pulls me into him. My eyes feeling heavy and soon fade to black. "I promise I'm going to take care of you both."

/////

The empty feeling of the bed is what stirs me awake. Feeling around Harry's nowhere to be found, in arms reach at least. The sheets smell like him though, God I've missed this smell. If heaven had a sent it would be Harry in a bottle. Gotta pee. Fucking hell dude. Who put the bathroom 10 feet away? Sighing in relief when I got to the toilet I because my bladder was going to explode.

After washing my hands, I look at the clock, I could've slept for another 40 minutes. Oh well.

"Harry?" I call out padding through the silent hallway. I see the nursery door open and peek inside and see him staring of the maternity photos I put inside of .

"I feel like I've missed so much." He states as he grazes over some of the earlier ultrasounds.

"Not too much," I say rubbing his shoulder, "We can make up the next four months together." he gives me a small smile and brings me around to his front kissing the side of my neck. "Y/n?"

"Yeah Harry?"

"Can I stay here for a while, I want to help and be here for you and for them. I understand if you say no but I really wanna show you how sorry I am, and I just feel like yo-" I stop his blabbering by kissing him passionately. After a few moments, I pull away keeping our foreheads together. "You can stay for a while, Harry. We can work something out." I smile at him softly. He just nods in response.

////

"Y/n so glad to see you again! And you brought a guest." Dr. Walters says reaching out to shake Harry's hand.

"I'm Harry, the father."

"Well, it's mighty fine of you to join us today," he says putting gloves on.

"Here comes the cold," he warns me before placing the jelly on my abdomen. "Have you decided on wanting to know the gender?" he asks looking between Harry and I as he smears the jelly with the ultrasound probe.

"I want to know, no clue about him." I laugh Dr. Walters joins me.

" Well first let's see how we're doing," he says bringing the baby into view. "Alright dad, first time here so you hear the faster beat?" he asks Harry turning the volume up on the monitor. Harry nods in response, "That's your baby's heartbeat, and looks like they're in good shape." I smile as Harry leans down and grabs my hand. The black and white image on the screen is truly breathtaking.

"... and this is the head," Dr. Walters explains while pointing to help Harry find everything he identifies. Harry squeezes my hand gently as he admires our little miracle. "So, mom, we want to know right?"

"Yes!" Harry blurts out excitedly. "It's okay he calls me Daddy." which causes Dr. Walters to laugh. "Alright well let's see." He says pressing some buttons to change the view of my uterus.

"And it's a girl!"

A/n: Some of y'all are not going to like me and that is okay, good luck with part 3. LMAO funny story, I submitted this piece for my creative writing class my freshman year. The second-hand embarrassment I have LOL.

#harry #harry styles #harry smut #harryx reader #y/n #harry styles and y/n #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #writing #imagine #oneshot #smut #fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb

30 notes · View notes

yootaesowlwrites · 4 years

Text

Scenario Prompts - [1]

Prompts are below the cut from what you can choose from for when my requests are open.

Please make sure to add ‘C’ along with the number of your choice when requesting.

More prompts

[ one ]

Credit to the people that created these prompts, I found them on pinterest and on tumblr.

C1— we just had a one-night stand but a massive storm hit so now we’re snowed in, hello awkward

C2— you were supposed to have a beautiful winter wedding but you were ditched during the vows and my idiot sibling/best friend just cracked a joke about how maybe I’d finally tell you how I feel about you and you heard

C3— someone assumed we’re dating but I didn’t realize that’s what they meant until it was too late and I had committed us to a couples’ retreat weekend

C4— you jokingly propose to me at the bar but it ends up all over social media so now I have to track you down because I don’t even know your name

C5— you were a dick to my coworker so I’ve been writing insults on your cups and why the hell do you keep coming back here anyway

C6— you’re my ex who I’ve never really gotten over and you just surprised me by paying for my coffee and I’m not prepared to see you

C7— my coworker wrote my cell phone number on your cup when I wasn’t paying attention and now you’re texting me

C8— I’ve been getting really creative with my foam art and I do some naughty-bits to amuse my coworker on their drink when you mistakenly take it and think I’m hitting on you

C9— you join me at my table thinking I’m your blind date and you don’t stop talking about how nervous you are for this date so I don’t get a chance to tell you that you have the wrong person when your actual date comes up and thinks you were hitting on me while waiting for them

C10— when people hit on me and ask for my number, I usually make up a number to put on their cups, and today I just happened to write your number on your cup so you call me out

C11— I’m sorry for laughing at you walking into the glass door/window, please let me help you up

C12— I know your sign says ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ but can I please give you a really long explanation as to what has led to me desperately needing coffee without a shirt or shoes

C13— you dropped to your knee to tie your shoe but suddenly, people are congratulating us on getting engaged and we just scored free coffee so we roll with it

C14— I ask you to come look at houses with me and the real estate agent just gave a very convincing speech as to why this backyard would be a great place for a wedding

C15— I like to go skinny dipping by myself at 5 am when the sun starts to rise and you’ve started to go running at that time

C16— it’s almost 3 am so I go down to the lake to skinny dip and you decide to join me but you don’t realize I’m naked

C17— everyone assumed we were going to end up together, but it’s your engagement party and you overhear me talking about how I’m in love with you

C18— we agree that this is until one of us meets someone else but I think you just met someone else and I’m freaking out

C19— my drunk friend announces in the bar that I’m in love with you, but we didn’t know you were here with your friends too

C20— my email address is really close to the popular person’s, so you think you’re emailing them and I think I have a secret admirer and when the truth comes out, we’re both in too deep

C21— six months ago we slept together and I never expected to find you outside my front door in tears asking if you could stay the night because you have nowhere else to go

C22— I’m assigned to write a piece rounding up all the bad press that you, a famous celebrity, have been getting and you show up in my office and demand me to write a retraction and get the ‘real’ story

C23— I’m at the 24/7 gym at 2 in the morning and I thought I was alone so I’m singing in the showers, but when you start singing with me, I’m startled and slip so the first time we meet, we’re both wet and naked

C24— my twin clearly did something to piss you off, but you obviously don’t know I’m a twin so I’m listening to you tell me how much of an asshole I am and am very amused and it’s making you angrier

C25— you’re a celebrity/prince/princess/etc. who has decided to don a fake persona to go to school undercover and I figure it out within the first month of class but I keep your secret until the whole thing blows up in your face and you need help hiding from the paparazzi

C26— I like to go skinny dipping by myself at 5 am when the sun starts to rise and you’ve started to go running at that time

C27— it’s almost 3 am so I go down to the lake to skinny dip and you decide to join me but you don’t realize I’m naked

C28— after a huge fight, we fall out of touch, but it’s our high school reunion and I don’t want to lose you again

C29— you overhear me talking to our mutual friend about how I’m scared that you won’t feel the same way about me

C30— I strip because I enjoy it and it’s good money, but I didn’t expect to be hired for your friend’s bachelor party.

C31— we fall asleep on the couch watching Netflix together and when I wake up, our fingers are intertwined

C32— you misdial at a telephone booth and ask in a very upset voice if I can pick you up, and I don’t know why, but I ask where you are so I can pick you up

C33— six months ago we slept together and I never expected to find you outside my front door in tears asking if you could stay the night because you have nowhere else to go

C34— I ducked into this tiny bakery to get out of the rain, but oh my goodness, it smells so good here that I might just have to stop for a bit and try just one cookie…

C35— I have been having the crappiest week ever, but you surprised me with a bubble bath and comfort food and I cannot even right now. What did I do to deserve you?

C36— Character A comes home from work one day to find Character B on the couch, wrapped up in blankets and wearing one of Character A’s favourite sweatshirts. There’s a box of tissues next to them and Character B looks absolutely feverish and awful

C37— I met you last night when you were drunkenly patting my dog in my backyard at 3 am in the morning and when I asked you what the hell you were doing you slurred something about dogs being great and then you threw up on my feet and then fifteen minutes later you were passed out on my couch so that’s why your here right now also what the fuck is your name and why were you patting a dog in a stranger’s backyard in the middle of the night.

C38— You live in the apartment above me and your water pipe burst and is flooding into my apartment and you can hear me yelling so you come down to my apartment to see what’s going on and witness me standing in my kitchen/bathroom/whatever, holding an umbrella, screaming at the water pouring out of my ceiling and crying because I have no idea what to do and we both just kinda stand there in shock as my stuff gets ruined and you let me crash in your apartment until my apartment gets fixed because you feel bad.

C39— I’ve been in love with you since you first moved in and I finally built up the courage to knock on your door but when you answered you had just woken up and didn’t have a shirt on so I ran away

C40— I locked myself out of my apartment so I have to climb out your window and onto my balcony

C41— You’re drunk and walked into the wrong apartment and fell asleep on my couch oh god you’re going to be so confused in the morning

C42— Your laundry got mixed up with mine somehow and now we’re sitting in silence sorting underwear

C43— I walked in on your ex yelling at you so you grabbed me and kissed me so she’d go away and I’m kind of freaked out I literally just met you last week

C44— Ice breaks underneath Character A’s feet and Character B sees when they’re walking past the lake and saves them.

C45— You walked here in a blizzard to get your hot chocolate but you forgot your wallet at home, here, let me buy your drink for you.

C46— Mistaking Character A for someone else, Character B runs up to them and hugs them out of nowhere… or worse, punches them

#prompts #prompts list #athenathesharkwrites

22 notes · View notes

birlcholtz · 4 years

Note

any bittyholtz headcanons👀

holster knows he’s big ok? and he realizes pretty quick his sophomore year that bitty is Not Great at handling large guys coming at him quickly. so out of consideration for this tiny frosh, who is cute but holster can also tell is scared shitless by ransom and holster being their loud selves, holster tries to be conscious of bitty and respect his space (and also not yell too much around him because who knows what specifically bothers him)

and the great thing about ransom and holster being best bros for so long is that holster doesn’t have to explain what he’s doing to ransom, ransom just kind of matches him and that’s that

and holster is delighted every time bitty opens up a bit more and relaxes a bit more around the team, and when he comes out to ransom and holster holster internally is like oh. oh of COURSE. of course big loud jocks who talk about hooking up with women all the time and check people really hard on the ice bother him. duh holster

but holster would NEVER hurt someone for being gay that’s a huge asshole move and he feels it is Very Important That Bitty Knows That Holster Would Never Hurt Him. why does he feel it’s so important?? that’s a question for later holster isn’t a whole ‘analyze my feelings’ dude

so holster actively makes an effort to be around bitty in a non-threatening way. by a couple of months into spring semester they’re very comfortable around each other, comfortable enough that bitty jokes about their size difference and at one point he literally jumps into holster’s arms (who catches him on instinct) and then holster is like oh my god i’m holding bitty. oh my god he’s so small but so muscular. oh my god his hair smells so nice oh god oh fUCK

there is literally so much more under the cut. (send me ur headcanons for rarepairs/qpps!)

bitty, for his part, was initially very wary of ransom and holster for exactly the reasons holster figured out. it also doesn’t help that ransom dresses like a preppy frat bro and holster dresses like a messy frat bro. they’re both frat bros and bitty takes a long time to warm up to them.

but what does help is the way holster always lets bitty know he’s there before he gets too close (sometimes bitty is in the zone in the kitchen and doesn’t notice things like his teammates entering), and the way he doesn’t friendly-punch bitty like he does ransom. or jack. or shitty. or even lardo honestly nobody’s safe. except bitty is.

holster is also definitely responsible for putting some of bitty’s favorite songs on the kegster playlist and bitty definitely finds out and his heart warms a little more

and once bitty’s come out to ransom and holster and they don’t treat him any differently or weirdly and still profess their love for him when he bakes things without a single no homo, bitty finds himself hanging around with them a little more?

ransom likes to study in the attic without distractions so that means that bitty and holster wind up spending a lot more time together and listen. bitty can’t spend that much time with holster without noticing that the guy is a) extremely tall b) ripped and c) has an excellent jawline. and bitty is only human y’all

when he plays music in the kitchen holster will always dance (and sing along if he knows the words, or enough of the words to get them wrong in a funny way because bitty’s laugh sounds like angels singing and okay yeah holster is smitten)

holster Cannot make pies because he cannot touch pastry, bitty forbids him from trying before he even asks because his hands are too warm and he’ll fuck it all up. (holster, internally, is pleased bitty’s noticed. bitty, internally, is like fuck was that too weird) BUT if holster is in there he usually gets dragged into stirring things or chopping things or handing bitty sticks of butter from the fridge and basically whatever he can do without fucking up the pastry

and a while after that holster is like hang on wait it’s been a while since i realized i had a crush on bitty and it has Not gone away should i like. i don’t know. fucking tell him i’m into guys or something like that?? that would be smart

this is more how they get together than a list of headcanons LMAO i always get distracted and this is so fucking long omg

so he’s like rans. how do i do this. and ransom is like you should blast gettin’ bi from crazy ex girlfriend and holster is like weird. i love it.

other things holster does to subtly let bitty know he’s bi: loudly discuss his plans for going to pride that summer, make a lot of bi puns and hope one of them lands, show bitty funny posts from the lgbtq+ samwell student group on facebook

eventually bitty is like . hm. holster is either a VERY supportive ally. or he is trying to tell me something. and after the 80th bi meme post from the facebook group he’s like holster. hon. are you trying to tell me something

and holster is like YES. I AM BISEXUAL and bitty’s like oh that’s great!! (internally: can i climb him like a tree yet)

and then bitty’s like well thanks for telling me! and holster is like uh yeah! (because listen he’s good at wheeling but he is SO bad at wheeling bitty because this isn’t just someone cute he found at a kegster u know??? it’s BITTY and holster kind of wants to sweep him off his feet but in like. a gentlemanly way that won’t scare him)

when holster relates this interaction to ransom ransom is like oh my fucking god holster you could have told him and holster is like yeah and i did not for some fucking reason???????? ransom. i’m dumb and ransom is like no you just caught feelings

(bitty, to shitty: hey so uh. if a guy aggressively hints he’s into guys for like. a month. and then when i ask him straight out he tells me he’s bi. what does that mean. and shitty’s like i mean i wouldn’t know unless i know the guy?? but i wouldn’t ask u to tell me bc like. hes gotta choose who he’s out to u know and bitty’s like yeah i mean u know him but maybe i’ll ask him who else he’s out to bc i need some advice and shitty is like hell yeah)

the next day, bitty’s like holster are u out to anyone else?? just bc the team seems kinda. hetero. except for me. and holster is like oh yeah rans knows and shitty knows. also johnson. and jack if he’s not stupid because i’ve definitely had guys stay over. but mostly just the guys in the haus yeah

then they go to murder stop ‘n shop and buy baking ingredients. holster carries a metric fuck ton of flour and butter and pretends he doesn’t notice bitty staring at his arms (but he might flex just a little more than necessary)

so bitty’s like EXCELLENT. and then he talks to shitty again and is like IT’S HOLSTER AND I’M SUPER INTO HIM WHAT DO I DO and shitty’s like hooooo boy. and then HE’S like well uh. holster doesn’t like. feel the need to formally come out to people usually like the way he told me was by just telling me about a guy he hooked up with last year with zero context or warning? like i don’t know holster as well as, like, rans, but he definitely wants you specifically to know that he’s bi.

and bitty’s like intriguing. i’m gonna go combust now. and shitty’s like cool catch ya later.

so then bitty decides there’s only one way to find out if holster’s into him. and it’s not asking him, what the fuck?? no obviously not. it’s wearing very short shorts and touching him a lot and watching him to see if he blushes or gets flustered. bitty may not be a blunt or forthright person when it comes to hitting on people but he can at least make it impossible for holster to try and hide any feelings he may or may not have.

so rip holster is what i’m saying. but he also observes how much bitty is still watching him-- usually when bitty is doing something like wearing very short shorts or dancing at a kegster or flinging himself into holster’s lap-- and he’s like HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM. because also holster is like way more experienced with like. relationships in general? like he’s familiar with what someone flirting with him looks like. so he’s like alright well if bitty wants to make me suffer i’m going to make him suffer too. (’rans can i borrow your skinny jeans’ ‘is this so you can get back at bitty’ ‘yes it’s important’ ‘yeah sure whatever’)

holster knows he’s jacked, he just has to make sure bitty knows it. he also knows that bitty is comfortable with holster standing pretty close to him now so he’s going to use that to his advantage since holster is also tall as Fuck. (obviously he doesn’t do anything creepy like stand right behind him or smth but like. if they’re talking. holster is gonna get just a little in bitty’s space just so bitty has to look up at him a little. is this partially because bitty has really nice eyelashes? yeah)

basically what i’m saying is once holster decides to get back at bitty all hell breaks loose. literally nobody else in the haus can deal with the sexual tension when they’re in the same room. bitty is now pretty sure that holster is into him. shitty texts bitty saying ‘can you please bone for the love of god’. for good measure shitty also texts holster saying the same thing. he’s so tired but also this is hilarious

like it gets EXTRA. bitty and holster can both bend and snap and they DO. holster intentionally spills water on his t-shirt to make it cling more. when he sits at the kitchen table doing work bitty comes by and leans over his shoulder to see what he’s doing and if he brushes holster’s neck a little as he does it, well, that’s between them. at one point holster and bitty are both standing at the counter washing dishes and holster starts chirping bitty about not being able to reach the top shelf and asks if he wants to stand on a chair and bitty’s like hmm or you could just carry me. and holster almost has a conniption and it gets even worse when they finish washing up and bitty’s like oh great the counter’s all cleared off! and hops up and sits on it and that gets his face a little closer, vertically, to holster, who is suddenly aware that bitty is wearing very short shorts AGAIN, which like, seem to have become his uniform, and that when bitty sits like that holster can barely see those shorts, that’s how tiny they are, and it looks like bitty’s just sitting there in a shirt and nothing else and holster’s brain supplies a LOT of images once he thinks of that and hoo boy.

and holster’s like how can i get back at him. and bitty’s sitting right next to the hanging cabinets so holster grabs some of the plates from the drying rack that look dry enough and goes and stands *right* in front of bitty. like he’s not actually brushing bitty’s legs where they dangle off the counter but if he stepped forward like. half an inch. he would be. and they make eye contact for a second and then, without moving, holster starts putting plates away.

and bitty is like oh my fucking god WHAT else do i have to do (he doesn’t say this out loud) and then when holster’s done putting away the plates and it looks like he’s going to go grab more bitty just. wraps his legs around holster’s waist and pulls him in (and holster is like holy FUCK because he knew bitty’s legs were strong but not THAT STRONG HOLY SHIT) and at this point there’s really nothing else for them to do but make out at the kitchen counter and that’s what they do. (bitty does, in fact, climb that man like a tree)

okay so some actual headcanons lol. you thought you knew bitty was a clothes stealing fiend?? you were wrong. he absolutely is but you just didn’t know how much. does holster still have literally any of his sweatshirts? probably not honestly

the only way bitty will sit on the green couch will be if holster is sitting on the green couch and bitty is sitting in his lap because that way he can avoid any actual contact with the couch

when bitty makes anything with blueberries in it holster steals some but he also feeds bitty some because he’s mushy like that

they continue to go to extreme lengths to try and get each other flustered in public. shitty is so tired.

they share playlists constantly and even more of bitty’s favorites find their way onto the kegster playlist

when bitty moves into the haus holster is in his room c o n s t a n t l y. he just likes the space ok??? there’s lil reminders of bitty everywhere and of course if bitty is there too then that’s just the BEST

the puck bunny halloween costume physically murders adam birkholtz

#bittyholtz #fun with rarepairs #omgcp

135 notes · View notes

eirabach · 4 years

Text

Interregnum

1 : the time during which a throne is vacant between two successive reigns or regimes. 2 : a period during which the normal functions of government or control are suspended.

This one is for @gumnut-logic‘s final(?) Sensory Sunday challenge “Sixth Sense” AND it’s canon to Savages (a missing scene between chapters five and six, so, chapter 5.5). I’d say you don’t have to know what’s going on to enjoy, but it would probably help? Otherwise just have at some sad kids being starcrossed in a liminal space. Love you all.

The thing about is knowing, is that it’s an art.

Not like music or painting, not a portrait of a lady or a soft serenade, no, nothing so simple nor so easy as that.

A man can be taught to draw, a child trained to sing, a woman can write ream after ream of nonsense, fill pages with dreams and desires until her fingers bleed and her heart falls into the page an empty husk, her life's work a thing to cast out on the wind.

Knowing is different.

Knowing is being four years old, and a man coming to your door in the dead of night.

It had been the door of the manor, not the door to her room, but it was her door even then. Her mother had been long gone, her father already hardly more than a ghost, and she, the Lady of the house, had tucked herself away on the grand staircase, watching as the dirty faced man in the torn jacket had spluttered in a language she didn't understand, a sack of tools at his feet, a crowbar held tight in his grubby fists. The stranger hadn't seen the narrowing of round blue eyes as he'd concentrated on the lock to her father's study.

He hadn't known, but she had.

She'd known her father would come, known the butler would drag the stranger from her sight, and Nanny would carry her away.

She'd already known what would happen when her father called her down that morning, that he’d tell her, "This is Parker, he's a friend."

The man had smiled at her then through newly broken teeth, and Penelope had nodded, sure and certain, because she is, was, will always be, because knowing is something you're born with. It's a prickle up your spine. The skipped beat. A hum that no one else hears, and Penelope has always known. Good or evil, friend or foe, love or hate. Always. It’s what makes her so very good at her job, so perfect a hostess, so subtle an interrogator. That well honed ability to look a man in the eye, just once, and be utterly and entirely certain of the content of his soul, and it has never failed her, not once.

Until now.

Now the only thing she knows is that she absolutely cannot be seen to cry. Far too unseemly. Weak. Pathetic. The paparazzi smother her as she leaves the hotel, buzzing like mosquitoes as Parker opens the door and she offers them a media smile -- sweet, coquettish, slight -- that she has no idea if she actually achieves.

"Lady Penelope! Lady Penelope do you have any comment on Jeff Tracy's return? Do you --"

The door slams closed, a sign of Parker's wavering restraint, and cuts the reporter off.

Does she have any comment? Not one fit for publication in a family paper that's for sure.

Family, and just the thought sticks in her throat, makes her chest ache and her eyes burn, because God, but she’d thought she’d known that at least. Pitiful, silly girl.

"Milady?" Parker's gentle, because he knows her, and she must look frightful all flustered and wet eyed because when he looks in the mirror she sees the way his brows draw low in concern. "Where to?"

And she doesn't know that, either. Doesn't have a clue, only, "Anywhere, Parker. Anywhere but here."

---

Gordon loves his father.

Loves him with a fierceness that pounds through his veins, that thunders his name in time with the rhythmic smack of the duffle against his spine, the thud of feet against asphalt.

Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad.

He loves him so much that he hates him.

He hates the way he's so sure, so certain of every damn thing all the goddamn time, and hadn't Gordon been sure? Hadn't Gordon been certain? And then he'd died and then he hadn't --

Two hundred yards ahead of him FAB One merges into New York City traffic, just a pink blur lit by camera flashes with a pull on his heart so hard he feels like it might be torn in two.

Might.

Two just seems kinda restrained, kinda delicate, compared to the crushing, sickening feeling behind his breastbone. Seems like something that might be fixed, somehow, stitched back together when all Gordon's doing is falling apart.

Falling apart and catching the damn car.

Scott's the runner in the family, old skinny legs can eat up the miles like Alan gobbles brownies, but Gordon's no slowcoach. The traffic's on his side, keeping Parker at a crawl, but the pack of salivating paparazzi aren't. They crowd between him and his goal, dark shades and darker grins sharp as shark teeth as he struggles his way through.

"Is that --?"

"Yeah! The one with the rocket?"

"Nah man, the other one, the swimmer."

"What the hell is he --"

He doesn't hang about for the end of that one -- wouldn't know the answer if he did -- instead he barrels through the chattering crowd and launches himself at the back of the car.

He realises, half a second too late, that Parker has ways of dealing with people who are stupid enough to stay on FAB One's tail.

"Aw shit."

---

“What in the blazes?”

She has her compact open, drafting the letter that she absolutely must send to Colonel Casey but has no idea how to write, and the jolt as something slams into the rear of the car sends it skittering to the ground at her feet, the screen cracking as it bounces off the console.

“Parker?”

“Already on it, Milady,” her erstwhile Chauffeur states grimly, his hand moving toward FAB One’s defences as she twists her body round to try and get a better look at whoever has been foolish enough to ram them.

“Oh my -- Parker don’t!”

But it’s too late. She catches a last glimpse of tow-headed blond as thick, dark oil arcs out, and then she’s launching herself at the door of the still-moving car, Parker’s squarks of displeasure blending into the furious clattering of two dozen paparazzos all throwing their cameras up at once.

Gordon lies amongst them, just two huge brown eyes in the pool of filth she’s left in her wake, and, lord above, if that isn’t a thought she doesn’t want to examine too closely.

“Gentlemen,” she says it like she was taught to, like she means it, like she wants all those cameras to turn on her and this time, only this time, she actually does. “Please, do excuse us. Darling?”

It’s a considered choice, the pet name. Chosen because she knows the ways their minds work, can already see the cogs turn into credits in their eyes, already read her name in the headlines, not his. Gordon blinks up at her, perfectly forgotten, and she lets her next smile reach her eyes.

“Get in.”

---

She feels Parker’s shudder, FAB One shaking under the force of it as Gordon slips and squelches his way into the backseat. He leaves perfect dark hand prints on the cream leatherwork and drips, morosely, onto the merino wool carpets.

“Milady --”

She cuts him off with a sharp tsk, her own hands coming away hopelessly filthy as she wipes her thumbs across too-damp cheeks where oil and something else have mixed into a horrid black paste. Gordon says nothing, only leans into her touch before backing away, skittish, at Parker’s groan.

“Ignore him,” she assures him, “It’s entirely his own fault.”

Parker makes another, ruder, sound, but neither of them pay much mind. Gordon’s breathing heavily, heavier than he ought to be after such a short sprint, and she finds herself patting at his shoulders, his sides, worried eyes scanning for whatever injury must have spurred him after her.

“Penny?” He’s holding his own hands up, surrender style. “Pen -- you’re getting -- Penelope, stop it!”

“You’re hurt?” It’s a question that isn’t, not really, because Penelope is good at knowing, and she knows that twist to those lips, the shadow in those eyes, knows them as well as she knows her own name. “Let me see.”

Gordon huffs, something that might have been a laugh, once, but now sounds half a beat from a sob. “Nah.”

She rolls her eyes, and makes nimble work of his shirt buttons. He snatches at the edges, head swivelling toward the windows, and hisses a scandalised, “Hey!”

“Oh do relax,” she mutters, slapping at his wrists until he lets her pull the sodden material away from his shoulders. “This is New York, sweetheart. This is nothing.”

“So you say!” But he lets her continue, shifting his weight and kicking his own jeans off, until he’s sat in nothing but his boxers, body streaked with sweat, hair black, surrounded by discarded rags and wearing a smile that makes her heart seize.

“See?” he flings his arms out as far as he can in the confined space. “I'm fine.”

It's an invitation, an opening she doesn't take, and the silence lingers a moment too long -- long enough for him to shiver, to reach for the duffle he'd dragged in after him and pluck something soft from its depths. Long enough to wonder.

"What 'appened?"

They both move to answer, both their jaws snapping shut as they realise, and Gordon pulls a marl hoody over his head, taking his time to work his arms into the sleeves as Parker's eyes narrow in the rear view mirror.

"A misunderstanding," Penelope says breezily, far too breezily. "That's all."

One bushy eyebrow rises out of his reflection.

"Is that so, Master Gordon?"

The hoody is too long, too tight in the shoulders. The sleeves hang over his hands and the hem sits around his mid thigh. He’d clearly left in a hurry, although she should have guessed that by how quickly he caught up to them, and he refuses to meet either of their eyes as he rummages deeper into the bag muttering invectives about stupid lanky brothers.

“Gordon?”

He pauses, his hand leaving marks on the waistband of a pair of NASA sweats. "Yeah -- no. I don't know."

"You didn't 'arf run." Parker says it conversationally, an observation. Penelope only hears the pauses in Gordon’s answer.

"Yeah. Well."

"In fact seems as if we're all running, Milady."

She balks at that, offence at the very notion ingrained into her bones. "Nonsense. I don't run."

Her broken compact has come to rest beneath the duffle, and as he tosses he bag to one side to work the too-long sweats up over his knees Gordon spots it, leaning down to pick it up as he wriggles his backside into them. “Oh Lady Penelope,” he says with something of his usual humour. “Brains is gonna be cross!”

She snatches it, or tries to, but her hand slips and the cracked screen lights up, reveals immediately what she’d been doing -- what she’d been trying to do -- in the moments before Gordon had thrown himself bodily into her vehicle.

Colonel Casey,

Despite all my efforts it would appear Mr Tracy has taken against my advice and plans to move TI further in the direction we have previously discussed. I am sorry that I have been unable to convince him of the folly of such choices, and as such I am forced to resign as --

"So this isn't running?" He runs a hand across his face and lets it lie there, covering his eyes. "Jesus, Pen. What's happening to us?"

Carefully, terribly carefully, she peels his fingers away until she can twist her own between them and bring their joined hands to rest in her lap. Her business suit is ruined, but it isn’t as though she hasn’t half a dozen others. There’s only one boy -- one boy with callouses on his palms and oil under his fingernails. One boy that she absolutely cannot keep but oh -- oh --

She doesn’t look at him. Can’t. Because she knows herself, knows the streak of absolute selfish want that runs right through the very core of her, and it’s all she can do to keep her voice steady.

"Your father will no doubt be arranging further investor meetings, we can drop you at Heathrow. By the time they get back you'll --"

"Whoa, hang on -- I'm not going back!"

"Don't be ridiculous! What are you going to do instead?"

He stares at her.

"I thought -- you and me --"

He thought, but god, she wants.

And wanting makes her mean. Makes her scoff when all she really wants to do is say yes, yes of course.

“You’re going to sit in my house and watch your family save the world? Don’t be obtuse. You’ll go mad.” Then, quieter. Truer. “You’ll hate me.”

“Never.” The vehemence surprises her, though it shouldn’t, not really. She’s never seen Gordon do anything that wasn’t with his whole heart, has she? “I will never regret choosing you.”

“Over everything?”

“Anything.”

At that moment, and only for a moment, she lets herself imagine it. The two of them, and nothing, no-one else. The two of them and their own choices, their own dreams, and she knows -- she knows it will never happen. Can never happen. Gordon covers the hand holding the compact with his other, lifts it and drops a kiss to her knuckles that cracks her heart right down the centre.

"No. No, Gordon. Don't let him be right." Her voice cracks right along with it. “If he thinks I’m trying to steal you away --”

"What, like some kind of pedigree puppy? Forget it, what am I gonna do, let him get away with speaking to you like that? No chance. Never. Not happening okay, so don’t even bother."

"Your brothers --"

There's hesitation there, just as she knew there would be, but it doesn't last, doesn't work the way she'd thought it would.

"Are big enough and ugly enough to cope without me. I'm just the pool boy nowadays anyway it's not like I can do anything useful."

"That's not true."

"It's completely true, and you know it. He wants me to, what? Choose between you and brunch meetings in a penguin suit?" He grimaces. “It’s not you or the job, Penelope. It’s you and the job, or it’s him.”

“We’re on the same side, Gordon,” she says quietly. “We all only want what’s best.”

“Do we?” He shakes his head. “I dunno, Pen. I don’t know anything anymore. Dad’s --” he takes a deep breath. “He’s not the same.”

Parker scoffs at that, breaking the spell that seems to have befallen the two of them before gesturing rudely to a fellow motorist with poor lane discipline. “I’ll say. He’s spent eight years alone in outer space, young Master Gordon. If he was the same man, he’d be a blummin’ mirage.”

“I know that,” Gordon insists. “I do, I get it. But -- people will die? People are dying and we -- my dad, he’d have helped them. He’d have let us help them. I just -- I don’t even know him anymore. I don’t even know if I ever did.”

And Penelope may have lost a little faith, somewhere between Tracy Industries and the oil-slicked backseat of her car, but she hasn’t yet lost her tact.

She knows, still, just enough. Enough to recognise fear in a man’s eyes. Ambition. Dread. Lust. Courage. So she doesn’t tell him, doesn’t dare, that when she looks into his father’s eyes she sees nothing. Nothing at all. Instead she tightens her grip on his hand, on the broken compact, and says;

“Take us home, Parker.”

---

(Gordon loves his father.

He does.

His father is a dead man.)

#thunderbirds are go #Thunderbirds #sensorysunday2020 #sensorysunday #gordon tracy #penelope creighton-ward #pen & ink #clare vs writers block #savages

35 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

Text

Survey #320

we on a spree today!

Would you rather be twice as smart or twice as happy? Give me the happiness, please. What happened the last time you cried? I was having a PTSD episode. What happened the time in your life when you were the most nervous to do something? I think the most nervous I've ever been was in elementary school when I won the D.A.R.E. essay contest and had to read my paper in front of the whole 4th and 5th grade in the gym. There may be something else, though, there's just a LOT of instances where I've been an anxious mess. What was the greatest television show of all time? Meerkat Manor, man. I canNOT wait for it to resume, I believe this summer. What one thing would you be most disappointed if you never got to experience it? Maybe petting a meerkat, particularly a descendant of a Meerkat Manor character, Flower Whiskers in specific. I would cry, and that is a promise. I am just... so thankful for those little creatures. Because of them, I've met so many irreplacable friends and developed a hobby that was a way to dump my creativity into since I was what, 10 years old? What celebrity would you trade lives with? BITCH let me be Amy Nelson (Mark's gf) for OBVIOUS REASONS. Haha on a serious note though she is an INCREDIBLE person that I'm so glad Mark found. :'''') What story do your friends still give you crap about? Nothing, really. What is your weirdest dealbreaker? I'unno... define a "weird" dealbreaker. I find mine to be pretty reasonable. What’s the first thing you’d do if you were the opposite sex for one day? Well, look at myself in a mirror? See how I look. What is the weirdest quirk your family has? We have this thing where we say "I love you mostest period" at random to imply we love the other person more than they could love us, indisputably. How old is the last person you kissed on the cheek or lips? On the cheek, it was either my niece or nephew, who are 4 and 6. The person I last kissed on the lips is 22. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans? Not anymore, no. I don't wear jeans. Do you think you could live with your best friend? I would fuckin LOVE to. Do you have someone who you can be your complete self around? I'm most comfortable with myself around Sara. What were you doing when you found out Michael Jackson was dead? I was swimming in the pool while Dad was grilling lunch. The last person you kissed, was it a drunken or sober? Sober. Have you ever introduced yourself with a name other than your own? Online, I've introduced myself with my account name, but generally, I say I'm Brittany. Are any of your siblings married? I don't know about the half-sister I don't know, but two are married, and one is engaged. Do you use an umbrella when it rains? Not usually, no. When was the last time you had a lot of fun? A lot of fun? That's one damn good question. Probably not since I last hung out with Sara. The last time you cried, who was there to comfort you? I was alone. What was your most recent reason for smiling / laughing? I chuckled at something in a John Wolfe video. Are you attracted to the last person you talked to? Um, that would be my mother. So no. Do you like your middle name, or does it embarrass you? It's pretty, but I hate having it. It's one of the most common white chick middle names ever. Are your toenails painted? No; I don't paint my nails. When was the last time you couldn't stop laughing? Why? Probably a funny YT video, I dunno. Any ways in which you're very different from the person you love/like? We have some differing political views. Why did you first kiss the last person you kissed? The timing felt right and I love(d) her. Has anyone seen you kiss the last person you kissed? Yeah. Who was the last person’s voice you heard? Besides via YouTube, my mom's. Who do you get along with best in your family? Mom. Have you ever been kissed in a car? Yeah. Is there anyone in your life that knows right away something’s wrong with you? Oh, absolutely my mother. Has your phone ever gone off in the middle of a class at school? Oh god no, I'd die. The last time you washed your hair, did you use conditioner? I never do. It adds oil to your hair, and mine is naturally oily enough. Do you prefer light or dark jeans? DARK. Do you have an item of clothing that reminds you of someone? Tell me about it, and the person it reminds you of. I have a good handful of those. When you listen to music, do you generally sing along, or just listen? I just listen, usually. Do you have any of your exes as friends on Facebook? Yeah. Does more than one person like you? *shrug* You log into Facebook and see the red ‘1’ notification next to the message icon. Who do you want it to be? I fucking hate that my answer is "Jason." If your hair is long, would you ever think about having it cut short? Or, if it’s short, would you like to grow it long? As far as I'm concerned, my hair will never be long again. I love it so much more short. What if you were told that your life has to stay exactly as it is right now, and nothing will ever change? How would you feel about that? I'd... honestly probably kill myself. I don't know that with certainty, but yeah. I'd be pretty damn devastated. What’s the most expensive thing you own? Probably my snake. Name something you really can’t wait for? MAY!!!!!!! GIMME MY TATTOOOOOOOO!!!!! What do you want in your future? E.g marraige, kids… A great career, a healthy and permanent relationship, lots of pets, adventure, life satisfaction... Got any major celeb crushes? m a r k e d w a r d f i s c h b a c h Do you have any glow-in-the-dark items in your room? If so what? No. Have you ever stalked anybody? Yeesh, no. If you could be on any TV show, which would it be and why? I'll just hypothetically say I WANTED to be on television for this, because irl, I don't. Ummm. I guess That '70s Show, because I love the '70s, and it'd be so cool to have a big group of friends like that. What is your favorite brand of hairspray? I don't use hairspray. What is the last thing you tripped over? Our doorstep, lmao. Do you were glasses or contacts? If so what color are your frames/contacts? I wear black-rimmed glasses. Do you like stickers? If so what kinds do you like? Yeah. I used to collect them as a kid and put them all over my dresser. Do you like coloring? Yes. What is in your backyard? Some bushes and a shed. Maybe a tree. I've been out there like, once. Do you own a globe? No. What is your favorite wild cat? Snow leopards are the prettiest, imo. As animals in general, I find lions the most interesting. How many continents have you been to, and which ones? I've never left North America. How many continents has your best friend been to, and which ones? She hasn't, either. How many continents has your dad been to, and which ones? Same as above. Have you ever been so terrified that you felt paralyzed? Yep. What’s a place you have a strong emotional connection to? The community college I first went to. Particularly where Jason and I took his senior prom pictures. Who was the last relative you visited? Grammy, before she passed away. My uncle was with her, too. Do you ever wonder what kind of person you’d have turned out to be if a certain event never happened to you? Oh, certainly. I wonder all the time what would have happened if Jason didn't leave. I could still be horribly depressed, or dead, considering ultimately, the event led to me finding the help I so desperately needed. Or maybe I'd be perfectly happy with kids and know how to be an actual adult. I was only a teenager, and yet with him, I never felt more mature and just... capable. When you’re home alone, do you still shower with the bathroom door closed? Yes. Have you ever bought something really expensive and ended up returning it? I don't believe so. If you could have anyone’s singing voice, whose would you choose? Amy Lee is the brazenly obvious answer. What are your top 3 favorite genres of music? Metal, rock, indie. Same general category, I know, but it's almost all I listen to. Is there anything you’d like to say to your last ex? We're best friends, and I talk to her regularly, so I can tell her anything. Where did you buy your dishes from? No clue. We've had the same plates and bowls I think my entire life. Do you think Mars will be colonized in your lifetime? No. Have you ever been on a ship? Boats, yeah. I think ships are just the really big ones, right? Sails and all? Do you ever take intentional breaks from checking/posting on social media? No. Who was Van Halen’s better singer - David Lee Roth, or Sammy Hagar? David Lee Roth. He's an arrogant bastard, but boy can he sing. Which fictional character has the most memorable quotes? I don't know. Maybe the Joker. Do you watch The Office? Gossip Girl? Grey’s Anatomy? None of 'em. Name someone you know with a birthday in December: Sara! What color was the last vehicle you were in? White. What is your dad’s name? Kenneth, but he's just called "Ken." When was the last time you slept in a bed with someone else? Not since I last visited Sara. Do you have any indoor pets? Both my pets are indoors. How do you feel about teenagers claiming to be in love? It's entirely possible. I was; nobody could EVER convince me I wasn't. Are you dating anyone? If so, for how long? No. Do you know anyone with Down's Syndrome? I think so? What animal that is endangered is your favorite? Oh yikes, I don't know. I don't really know every endangered animal, y'know, and I love all animals SO much. Maybe elephants or tigers. How do you believe the Earth and life on it was created? I feel like there was SOME sort of ultimate intelligence that created the universe, but I don't know anything about it/him/her/whatever. Then I believe in evolution. Basically, some sort of conscious creation, and then let life do its thing. What’s your religion? I don't have one. You could say theism, but is that even a proper religion? Do you like your teeth? No. During my worst depression, I was very bad at taking care of them, and now they have a yellowish tint. Have you considered getting contacts that change your eyecolor? What color? Oh yes, I've wanted to have more sapphire blue eyes. Do you wish you lived somewhere else? Yes. Living in the suburbs just isn't my jam, but it works for right now. What’s the craziest color you’ve seen on a house? I think I've seen a pink house before? Don’t you hate the texture of lotion on your skin? Yes. What’s the prettiest cat you have seen? There's this brown British Longhair with beautiful green eyes that I adore on social media. Name's Smoothie. What is your favorite doughnut? Chocolate frosted or glazed. Do you have a hot tub? If so, where is it located? No. What is your favorite party game? Man, I don't even know popular party games, haha. Do you or your parents rake your yard? Neither of us do. No matter where we've lived, ever since Dad left, no one rakes. Do you buy drugstore make-up or high-end make-up? We always buy drugstore makeup. What’s the last good love story you read? I don't think I've read a love story since The Notebook. Do you own a lava lamp or disco ball? No, but I wish I had a lava lamp. When was the last time you went to the roller rink? It's been many years. Do you own a kaleidoscope? No. I did as a kid, though. Have you ever made an inspiration board for your room? No, but I absolutely plan to once I get a big enough board to hang on the wall, and my "office" is cleaned out. I want that room to be full of motivation. Who is the best-looking male celebrity? Take a wild guess. Where would you like to travel to next? Yellowstone. I want to spread Teddy's ashes there in an area with wolves to rest in his roots. Less importantly, I want to take looooooaaaaaaaddddddsssss of photographs. Where are three places you go to relax? Just my room, really. If you became famous, would you change your name to something exotic? No. What color is your favorite pair of shorts? I don't wear shorts, ever. List five items on your current wardrobe wish list. I've wanted a black, studded leather jacket since I was in high school. I also really want big, spiked leather boots, too. Then there's tons of band tees I want. Who makes great song covers on YouTube? JONATHAN YOUNG!!!!!!! GO!!!!!!!!! LISTEN TO HIM!!!!!!!!!!! Who is one of the best songwriters? Otep Shamaya. Painting or drawing? I strongly prefer drawing. Painting that shows brushstrokes or painting that looks like a photograph? The latter. The former can be quite stylistic, though. First thing you wash in the shower? My hair, but if you mean my actual body, my chest. Brown or white egg? I don't even know the flavor difference. Favorite time of year? October-December. Do you own a gun? I legally can't due to a suicidal history. Have you ever been in a castle? Excluding the Disney World castle, no. Are you a clingy person when it comes to relationships? I honestly am. Have you ever been bitten so hard that there teeth marks were there after? I mean, I've had hickeys before. Would you ever date a disabled person? (Be honest) Yes. If you found a baby randomly by itself what would you do? Call the cops and stay with it until they arrived. What is the most personal question you have ever been asked? I'd rather not repeat it. When was the last time you wished time would move faster? Literally every waking moment of my life. It's so sad, thinking about it. I'm just rushing my life away. Are there any owls in your room (as decor, of course)? No. If you’re not straight, who was the first person you came out to? Sara. Do you enjoy hearing birds chirp? I do. Have you ever hiked a mountain? No. Where did you meet your first crush? School. Who is your favorite little girl? My sweetheart niece. What is your favorite song by the last band you listened to? Oh boy, don't make me pick. Does your best friend have kids? No; she doesn't want any, either. Where did you go the last time you drove for longer than an hour? The beach, I think. If you were pregnant, would you want a boy or a girl? Hypothetically, a girl. How often do you get fountain drinks from a gas station? Rarely, but every now and again. Who is your favorite character in your favorite movie? Mufasa. What junk food can you never pass up? Donuts came to mind first. But I think that's because I'm craving donuts, haha. Have you ever had a UTI? Yeah, multiple. I don't drink nearly enough water. I've had one so bad my kidneys hurt like a bitch. What's the last color you dyed your hair? Red.

#survey #surveys #questions

3 notes · View notes