#first time we did it (since we don’t eat out loads) I was scared we didn’t pay the tip 😭😭

[bowtiepasta]

indulging: gn!reader, implied ptsd, brief gun, reverse comfort, established relationship, soft and retired si, possibly ooc since this is my first cod piece in a minute. be nice please

you light an old candle in the kitchen, one saved from new years, and call his name, but he’s already moving—boots by the door, checking windows. old habits really never die, do they?

“it’s just a fuse, si.”

he doesn’t answer. instead of a switch box, you hear the click of a gun you didn’t know was loaded.

“simon.” you say, softer this time, stepping into the shadow of his silhouette. “it’s okay.”

when you see his shoulders sag, you usher him into the living room, careful to mind all the trinkets and memories now decorating your home despite not being able to see them without squinting.

with his head in your lap he tells you, in that voice like gravel and apology, that he’s been anxious for days.

you shift beneath him to reach the blanket draped over the back of the couch—navy, soft and frayed from too many washes, the one he pretends not to favor but always ends up loafed under anyway.

you tug it down and drape it over his back, fixing it when it catches on his shoulder, smoothing over the edge by the curve of his neck where his dog tags leave faint, irritated lines. they aren’t there tonight. he hasn’t worn them in the house for months now.

the wind rattles weakly against the kitchen window. the kind of sound that used to make him check all the locks again—three times over, sometimes four. he doesn’t move. that’s a win in your book.

you yawn. “did you eat today?”

he hums, which isn’t a yes.

the candle’s almost halfway gone now. it burns faintly of pine and smoke, same as the scarf you wrapped around him back in january when he came in from shoveling the walk and couldn’t feel his fingers.

“there’s leftover stew in the fridge,” you add. “with the carrots cut how you like. plus, i found the crackers that don’t go soggy in five seconds.”

his shoulders twitch in a small, grateful laugh.

“you spoil me.”

“i keep you alive, baby.”

his lids open, closing again when you lean down to press your lips to them. “so spoiled.”

your thumb moves along his temple, grazing the spots where his hair grows in uneven. he’d tried trimming it himself last month, stubborn over the bathroom sink with dull scissors and curses under his breath. you’d happily taken over, guided his chin with your fingers, smiled through the steam despite the way he never quite met your eyes in the mirror. now that same temple twitches under your touch, a small tell.

power’s still out. the hum of the fridge is slowly dying down, the candle sputters and spits when the draft rolls in. you think about the leftovers on the stove, simmering in the pot because you always forget to put it away until you’re both already in bed.

you nose at the crown of his head. “i refilled the tea tins,” you yawn again, and he follows suit. “moved them to the left side of the cabinet so you’ll stop knocking over the sugar in the morning.”

“i’m sorry i scared you,” he shifts on your lap, nuzzling your thigh while his head’s elsewhere.

“you didn’t.”

“i clicked the bloody gun.”

“we’re both still here aren’t we?” you’re quick, and he scratches another notch in his metaphorical bedpost, for all the times he thought you wouldn’t have anything to say back but did. he’s starting to believe you were made for him, in every sense of the phrase.

outside, the wind pushes against the window like it wants in, but here—here, the room glows faintly gold. the fuse is still blown, hallway still dark, kettle as good as dead. even so your home is warm with old blankets and old habits, and a man who doesn’t quite know how to rest, but tries anyway, in your lap.

idk idk idk idk i missed him and spat this out think whatever you want i feel too sleepy and soggy to proofread

consider reblogging, commenting, or sending an ask if you enjoyed. thank you for reading ! ♥︎ do not copy, edit, or repost, any of my content on any platforms.

[devil-in-hiding]

I had this idea last night and it’s been eating away at me since:

Childhood best friend!Simon who left when he joined the military. Cbf!Simon who, after finding his family murdered, disappears again -or so you think. Simon, who spends every night he’s in town at your place while you sleep. Who sees that you kept his old jumper, the one he gave you before he left. He sees how you hold it and cuddle it, holding it to your nose as if hoping it still smelled like him after all these years. He can’t give you a new one, but he can make this one smell like him again. When you’re out buying groceries, so much more often than usual, it seems, he takes the jumper and rubs in against himself; his armpits, the back of his neck, and then, against his cock and balls as the scent of you fills his nose.

You seem to sleep better that night.

Other things start to change too. He now starts to touch you as you sleep. Just brushing his hands against your hair. Feather-light touches that are almost impossible to feel.

He does darker things too. You are, thankfully, single. And he makes sure you stay that way. Your nice lotion gets an extra load of five of protein. Your blind dates mysteriously stop texting you back. You’re getting /frustrated/ which leads to a night with your vibe and dildo (much smaller than his, Simon notes. He’ll have to change that). Your little moans and whines make it almost impossible for him to not barge into your room and take you. But Simon Riley is nothing if not patient. When you finally fall asleep, one hand still clutching your dildo, he sneaks out.

Two weeks later, a mysterious package is at your door from a secret admirer. You don’t even notice the “clone a Willy” printed on the bottom of the silicone toy. What you do notice is how big it is and how much you want it to ruin your holes. You set to work right away, opening yourself up. Getting so frustrated that it doesn’t fully fit. All the while your secret admirer watches from your closet.

And when he does finally lay claim to you? It’s all roses and apologies.

He knocks on your door after a particularly grueling mission, bouquet of your favorite flowers and a teddy bear in hand.

“Simon?” You say, shock coloring your voice. “My Simon?”

“‘Ello, lovie,” he replies. Sheepishly smiling, he holds out the gifts.

“This is real? You’re really here?” You ask grabbing the flowers and teddy.

“‘M here,” he says, scared you might reject him after all this time. Not that it matters, but it would still hurt.

You drop the gifts and he braces for the rejection. What he didn’t plan on, was you wrapping your arms around him and sobbing into his chest. “Si, I missed you so much.” He leads you into your flat, you don’t wonder how he knows where your room is. He sits you on your bed and holds you while you cry.

He’s a perfect gentleman for the first few months of dating and rekindling your friendship. It’s not until you tell him one night after a few drinks too many, “you know, Si? I had the biggest crush on you when we were kids.”

“Did you now, lovie?”

“Still do,” you confess, eyes strangely clear despite the alcohol.

He doesn’t think when he finally kisses you. Falling into bed with you is easier than breathing.

Your breath hitches as you feel that familiar stretch when he enters you. But you don’t think about it. You don’t think what it means when he hits every spot that your secret admirer’s gift reaches.

Now he has you. And now he’s not letting go.

♠️

I’m clawing the fucking floor my scent kink has not recovered jeowkdkfoekskdkrkkwlfk

[hopelessromantic5]

The note I have written for this one is:

Enemies to Lovers. Except not really. More like annoyances to lovers.

(I think I was delirious because it was 3 AM, regardless, enjoy the clip ❤️)

Also, this one made me actually cry laughing while writing, but as previously stated, I should’ve been asleep. Most likely hysterical.

“He’s the most arrogant man I’ve ever met!” Merlin seethed. “He’s spoiled and bossy and stubborn as a mule! I can’t believe that stupid dragon ever talked me into saving his royally ungrateful life!” Merlin was shouting to the room at large as soon as his foot passed over the threshold and by the time he was done screaming insults, his bedroom door slammed behind him.

Gaius stood shocked, amused, and worried, all at once. Those boys did puzzle him sometimes.

More angry noises and crashes could be heard from the other side of the wooden door.

The old man didn’t want to know what a scene it was.

He quickly packed his supplies and left for the forrest to gather. It’s a nice day for it, he thought.

Beyond the door was chaos. As expected. Merlin had slammed just about every object in the room against the wall as hard as he could until it was one big pile of brokenness.

Stupid, pompous Prince that couldn’t be touched, lest Merlin cease to have hands.

But Arthur could degrade, bully and throw things at Merlin all he pleased. Even when Merlin was trying to help him!

Maybe Merlin just wouldn’t go tomorrow. He’d fake sick. He just needed a day. A single day without horse mucking and sword polishing. A single day without seeing that idiotically charming face practically spitting orders at him, like he was some kind of hound.

Maybe I am, he thought, in more ways than one.

Well, tomorrow.

Tomorrow was Merlin’s first official day off.

He went to sleep with a small satisfied smile on his face.

Gaius really was just trying to grow old, mend people, and keep the peace.

Unfortunately, peace was not something Gaius would say he saw very much anymore, not since Merlin arrived.

“I don’t feel well, Gaius.” Merlin mumbled from under the blankets. “I’m not going today.” He waved his mentor away.

“Merlin-“

“Gaius, please.” Merlin begged.

Gaius knew how he felt. A young man, trapped in circumstances for which he never asked.

The healer reluctantly sighed.

“You know Arthur isn’t going to take this well.”

“Yes, well. I’ll cross that bridge when I see its ugly face.”

With another sigh, Gaius closed the door and left the boy to rest.

Gaius should’ve suspected it was too easy. There was not so much as a whisper as he made his breakfast and prepared it as he did every other day, leaving Merlin’s out for if he wished to eat it, later.

The physician had just loaded up a spoonful of porridge and raised it halfway to his mouth when the front door burst open, scaring him half to death and causing him to fling the utensil halfway across the room, in a jolt.

Instead of the apology that should’ve awaited Gaius as he glared up in ire, instead he was met with an irate prince storming through his chambers as if the old man were not even there. Much the same way a raven haired boy had done yesterday.

Two sides of the same coin indeed. He thought.

Arthur burst into the bedroom and yelled something Gaius didn’t catch on his way out the door, porridge bowl in hand.

He hoped his own day was less eventful than poor Merlin’s.

Unfortunately, Merlin had to cross the bridge much earlier than he thought.

“I think you’ve slept long enough, Merlin! Just because you consider your duties unimportant does not mean the rest of us have the luxury of doing so!” The prince was yelling at top volume, standing in Merlin’s chambers and Merlin’s blood was practically boiling. “This morning I had to have a guard, of all people, go fetch my breakfast, and then I had to dress myself-“

“Oh, and we all know how daunting a task that is for you, sire. Do you hear yourself when you talk sometimes? Honestly! I have done nothing but slave away for you since the day your father ‘gifted’ this job to me as if it were some prize! This,” he waved his arms around to the surrounding room, “today. This is my day off. I’ve been in your service for months and I’ve never been granted a single day to just be! To sit in this bed and do nothing all day! Cook gets a day off every fortnight , the maids, Gwen! Gwen gets multiple days off just because Morgana is generous without involving Uther. And yet, I am worked like a dog by you and every other selfish, mean, unthinking entity in the world!” He huffed and took in Arthur’s expression. Which was mostly shock. He had not been expecting an outburst, obviously.

As far as his reaction, Merlin could not discern which miserable torturous punishment lie ahead of him but he knew he would smell horrible afterwards.

Arthur was still just looking at him after a few seconds before dropping his gaze to his feet, chewing the inside of his lip.

“As much as it pains me to say it, Merlin, I think you may be right.”

Merlin hardly believed his own ears, and immediately blurted a response.

“What?”

“It’s unfair to not give you the same time as everyone else. I apologize. I was, as you put it, unthinking.” The Prince shuffled his weight between feet, a sign Merlin has come to recognize as nervousness, maybe shame.

“Starting today, every fortnight you are to take a day.” He nodded once, still not meeting Merlin’s eye again, and headed for the door.

“I will see you tomorrow.” He said with his back turned.

“Yes, sire.” Merlin answered quietly, partly out of habit and partly because all of his anger had quickly burnt up the second he saw the look on Arthur’s face.

He was glad to have his day off, but he hated to ever make Arthur feel that way.

When Merlin really thought about it, he wasn’t tortured or beaten (unless Arthur smacking him in the head counts), he was permitted access to most places in the castle without question, and sometimes Arthur would intentionally leave more food on the tray than he would have, just so Merlin could have his leftovers. Which were always heavenly. Cook must have really loved the golden prince.

Merlin scurried back under the blankets with a deep sigh as he contemplated just how good he had it in Camelot. And how Arthur, with all his yelling and roughhousing, really had good intentions. He was to be King, after all. The Once and Future King. Surely he must have a good heart.

Merlin knew he had a good heart. But there were several reasons that the sorcerer needed to plant the seed of doubt in his own mind.

One of them being; he felt himself getting too comfortable.

That only spelled disaster.

[candyswirls]

Garm Pt 6

Previous - Next - Master Post

Summary: Garm wakes up after surgery, and Leman goes dad mode. Within Garm’s unconscious state, they speak with the Horned-Man, a familiar face.

Garm will be using gender neutral and feamle pronouns interchangeably now since their gender reveal previous chapter. They are also a toddler and care not.

Garm whined as her eyes fluttered open.

“Hello Anke-biter,” Leman greeted.

Garm started to hiccup and tried to reach for their father, arm in the cast refusing to cooperate.

He scooped them up and began rocking her.

They were lethargic but slowly waking up.

“Guess what,” he said. “We finally know that you’re a girl.”

Garm side eyed him. Sending feelings and thoughts psykically.

Arm hurts. Tummy sick.

He chuckled and kissed their forehead.

“You’ll be given some pain killers in a moment,” he said softly. “Were you scared?”

She leaned head on his shoulder.

“Krůtt,” he cooed. “Tell me what happened.”

Garm tried lifting their arm in the cast again and hiccuped. They attempted to shake it and whined at the lack of feeling.

“It’s currently numb,” he told her. “Careful, Puppy. Don’t hurt yourself. Why were you up and over there?”

She struggled to do the sign with one hand. They then signed mirror and did it again. Ball. She were trying to sign ball.

“You were playing with your temari?”

Garm nodded, sluggishly.

Got stuck. Claw attacked.

“Your Temari got stuck and when you tried to get it the claw clamped around your arm?”

Garm whimpered and nodded.

He held them tighter, “Oh I’m sorry sweet pup. Don't worry, I destroyed the claw. I’ll have someone go get your temari. It’s time for pain killers. Let’s get you some food first.”

Garm sighed, going slack in their father’s arms.

They didn’t have much of an appetite. Eating just enough to take the medicine.

Leman could feel cracks in his hearts. How it wounded him to see his child so out of it and not themself.

They even fell asleep as some wolves reported back that Garm’s door had been locked, by herself, and that she had broke into the vent. The temari was also returned. It was stuck on a shelf right behind the hydraulic claw.

He was certain that had Garm been a baseline they would have lost their arm.

He decided to have Garm rest in the apothecarium. More eyes to monitor them as they slept.

***

“Poor little wolf,” a deep and wise voice spoke. “Just playing and now you’re hurt.”

Garm looked around and spotted him. She ran up, happy to see him.

He patted them on their head.

“Glad you are alright,” the horned man said. “Looks like the pain is trickling into your warp form.”

He pointed at their flickering arm.

Garm shook it and spat, sending out their thoughts.

No feeling, feels weird.

“It does,” the horned man nodded. “But once that wears off you’ll miss it. Be grateful it doesn’t allow you to feel the pain right now.”

Garm sighed.

The horned man took a seat on the ground, “This is a good time to show how to heal faster with psykic power. Sit across from me.”

Garm did so, staring up at him eagerly.

“Now first let’s go through what happened,” he instructed. “You can relay it to me or show the sequence of memories.”

Flashes of Garm accidentally locking the door but not wanting to go out with the serfs there began. Then getting bored in the room. Discovering the vent. Crawling through. No one in the loading bay. Bouncing the temari. It flying behind the tank and getting stuck in the shelf. Reaching to get it through the claw. The claw suddenly clamping.

The Horned man stroked her head, “I’m sorry, little Garm. I could feel how terrifying and painful it was. Apothecaries are also scary. I’m glad your father found you and comforted you. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Garm perked up.

Love dad! Dad strong!

The horned man smiled. He used to frown at thoughts like these but not anymore.

“He is a very good father to you,” the horned man told her. “But should he falter… ah, I shouldn’t be going off on that. Hold out your flickering arm. Let’s begin.”

Garm did so, maintaining their gaze with the horned man's one eye.

***

Leman’s eyes flashed open.

Garm was standing above him, staring him down. They had a grimace painted across their face.

He was impressed. They still had their pajamas on.

“Good morning,” he said.

Psykic thoughts pressed strongly into his mind.

I’m hungry. Don’t like this on my arm. Hurts.

“Let’s get you some breakfast and no chewing on your cast,” he said. “It’s helping you heal. I can already see bite marks on it.”

Garm pouted.

“You can have sweet cream on top of everything to eat this morning,” he took them.

She lit up at that.

Feelings of love and appreciation were sent to him.

He chuckled as he picked them up. He pressed kisses to her cheeks. She giggled and gave him back kisses on his nose. Some love nips sprinkled in with them.

“I love you too my sweet Garm.”

They laced their free arm’s fingers into his beard and pressed their forehead to his. Stark grey eyes stared into larger matching ones.

Leman chuckled, “My sweet pup. You look so much like me. But cuter and so pretty. You are the prettiest on the entire ship.”

He hugged them as they exited the room.

“A sly and cunning wolf too,” he added. “So very smart and strong.”

He started reciting an old Fenrisian lullaby. A common one that parents would sing to their children. About how they were the light and joy of their parent’s life. That they were extremely cherished. He liked reciting this to Garm.

Garm in turn would snuggle up to Leman and try to nip at his chin and beard. With her cast they wouldn’t be able to rough house after breakfast as usual.

Garm squirmed, insisting they be placed down to run.

He had to hold back laughter as they struggled to balance with the cast on. They also ran with a curve now.

They turned around and pouted again, wrinkling their nose.

"It will be off before you know it," He said.

She rolled her eyes, waiting for him. He took their hand as they walked to the feast hall.

[gtbutterfly]

Quincy and the forest giant part 9

sorry its been a while since my last writing post, I've haven't been finding the time to sit down and write. usually I write in school when I'm done with work in classes, but since its summer, I've haven't had an excuse to write. anyways, this chapter is a bit shorter than the last two, hope you enjoy it!

previous part:

CW: mentions of death

______________________________________________________________

Ella came back around 8 or so minutes later. She had something balled up in her fist. When she walked inside, she went right past me and into the kitchen, before walking back into the living area to see me.

“What….what did you do?” I asked.

“Kill a deer. Like I said I would.” Ella said.

“You…..you just……went and killed a deer?” I asked.

“Yeah, we'll have it for lunch later,” she said.

“You just….went out, and found and killed a deer?” I asked.

“It's not that complicated, Quincy.” She said, sounding a bit annoyed.

“Oh ….. sorry….but….well….” I looked down, “...why?”

“Hmm…. food.” Ella said. Leaning on the table I was on.

“Um…..ok….” I looked down still, “.....did it have anything to do with…..um…. those people that came…..uh, Dr. Laurier?”

“Call her Amber.” Ella said,

“But….she told me…”

“I know she doesn't want people like you calling her by her first name, that's exactly why I want you to.” Ella said.

“Um….you must….. really not like her,”

“Well…..if she gave me more food than giant loads of stale hard bread, I wouldn't have to hunt for venison.”

“V-venison?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah…. venisons just deer meat.” The giant said. 

“...oh….”

“anyways, you've haven't eaten breakfast, right?” Ella asked, before holding her hand out for me to climb in. I got into her palm, and we went to the kitchen.

“So…..um…..were those your…..the people you work for….out there?” I asked.

“Yeah.” Ella answered briefly.

“....are they with the ….um….lumber company?”

Ella looked down at me in her hands, confused.

“What do you mean lumber company? You mean the wood chopping factory they have at your town?” She asked, placing me down on the kitchen table.

“Yeah….most of the jobs in our town revolve around that lumber company…. everyone either chops down trees, or processes them into usable wood, or drives the wood out of town,” I said, stepping off their palm.

“The lumber company isn't it's own company, it's owned by the company that I work for,” Ella said.

“Oh…..um…..i didn't know that….” I said, rubbing the back of my head. “Um…can I ask…..what that company is? Um…since…. They want me to stay with you….”

“I’m probably going to keep you in the dark just a bit longer, just to be safe,” Ella said. 

“Oh….um, ok,” I said, “so….what can I ask about….?” 

“I dunno…what do you want to ask about?” Ella asked, tearing a bit of the stale bread apart.

“Um…sorry if this is personal…um…” I looked down and gulped, “...who was that person Amber mentioned….um…..Derrick….” Ella paused and stared at me when I said his name. I was a bit scared she would explode at me like she did yesterday. She sighed, and placed the bread on the counter in front of me. 

“I shouldv’e known this was coming,” She said to herself, “...Derrick is…..Derrick was someone who was very important to me, who isn’t around anymore…” the giant said, looking down solemnly.

“Oh….” I said, looking up at her. “i…I’m sorry…..”

“Its fine, kid.” Ella said, look aside. “...eat up,” She gestured towards the bread. I took a chunk off of it and bit into it, shallowing it hardly.

“...um…what was he like…” I asked, “uh…if its ok for me to ask…”

“.....doesn’t matter,” Ell sighed, “he’s gone now.” there was an awkward silence in the room. I took another bite. 

“...so you were….um….” I gulped again, “...together….”

“Yeah….” Ella said, emotionlessly.

“...um…what…h-happened to them….” I asked. Ella sighed again.

“...I don’t want to talk about it.” the giant said sternly. 

“...oh….um….I just thought…..it might help….”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Ella said, her voice vibrating loudly. I flinched when she snapped. She immediately noticed what she did and slouched down to make herself smaller. She looked to her side as if she was embarrassed. “s-sorry….I….didn’t mean to…” she sighed again, leaning on he elbow against the table. “I’m sorry.”

“...its ok,” I said, trying to reassure her. “...um…I’m sorry I brought it up…” 

“Its fine, kid. Of course you’d want to know.” Ella said, looking down. “I’ll tell you, I just….need a moment.” 

“...ok,” I said, “...take as much time as you need….” I went up to her elbow on the table and rubbed it slightly, trying to comfort her. I don’t know if it worked. She seemed kind of surprised by me touching her. She moved her arm and laid it flat on the table.

“Thanks…” she said, lifting her other hand, hesitating a bit, before rubbing my hair slightly with her thumb, before putting her hand back down. She looked to her side.

“So….um….what do you want to do…?” I asked her. She looked down at me.

“...what I want to do?” Ella asked. 

“Um…yeah…” I said. “Um…it seems like….your going through something today….” Ella was silent for a moment.

“Um…..we could…go for a walk…um….well, I’d be walking and carrying you.” the giant suggested. “I know I like…just did that to get the deer…but…um,” 

“A walk would be nice,” I said, looking up at her. Her eyes lit up slightly. She gave a slight smile towards me. 

“Ok….thanks….” Ella said, putting her hand out for me. I climbed into it and she lifted me up to right below her chest. She stood up and walk from the kitchen towards the door outside she held me against her as she opened the door and stepped outside. Her wool shirt was soft and warm. She kept me there as she walked into the woods.

[anonymouse1312437]

American Amongst The Brits (Chapter 2)

Chapter two  

I couldn’t help but toss and turn all night. This was a new place for me, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how they said I was going to have to figure it out on my own before I was going to know what they meant. What else could my mother have been that had to be found out by my own self. Why does everyone know what my mother's wand and broom look like? Surely, she could not have been that kind to everyone. Maybe she did something memorable. Also why did she have to hide me? I have so many questions that I don’t think they are going to have answers for. Such as why did they mention she sent us away. My dad did not come with me. I was sent to my aunt's and for some reason and she was in America and not here. None the less the state of Oregon. Who fucking chooses to live there? I mean it's depressing for one thing. I mean it does kind of fit the woman of my nightmares. 

I don’t think anything could truly scare me but, I am unsure.  

“Y/n it’s time to get up darling.” Mrs. Weasley said touching my shoulder. I immediately jumped up and looked at her with terror in my eyes.  

“Oh dear. Are you alright? I didn’t mean to startle you.” She said.  

“I am sorry. Yes, let’s go.” I pointed my new wand at me and refreshed my clothes with a tidy spell. She smiled at me.  

“You truly are a dear. No need to apologize, it was my mistake. Come along now deary.” She said. We walked out close together and she stopped at the table and took the apple from the center of it and handed it to me.  

“Here you need to eat something before you get onto the train.” Mrs. Weasley said watching me as I took a bite. This didn’t sit well in my stomach. It has been a while since I have had anything to eat. I didn’t want to tell her that though. I know she was just trying to be kind. She is a mother after all. I think that is supposed to be in their nature.

I didn’t realize I was on autopilot while in my own thoughts and we were already at the train station.  

“Alright Harry and Ron you make sure she gets through in between the two of you.” She said and waved goodbye to us. She walked away and the boys were pushing their carts of all their stuff. I didn’t have enough for a real suitcase, so I just had a backpack filled with some clothes and my bathroom necessities. I am sure I can do some shopping in town over there if I need something else. Harry had my books in his suitcase. He said he had some spare room, and he didn’t mind helping. It was very kind of him. He seems nice. I hope it stays that way.  

“Alright, you are going to count to three and then run directly into the pillar and that will take us to our platform.” Harry said. Ron just ran so I counted to three and then ran. I didn’t even bother to question what I was doing. I saw all of the Weasley’s cross through so it’s not like I was the first one. Once I made it through, I moved because if I only had to the count of three Harry would surely push me down on accident. I was right because right after I stepped aside Harry came barreling through the wall. He set his stuff down next to the rest of the luggage being loaded on it and escorted me with him onto the train. Right away I felt all the eyes jump to me. I must look like a deer in headlights.  

“Maybe I could give you all some time to talk. I know me coming might have disrupted your group so I will go and find somewhere hopefully private to sit.” I said. Before Harry had a chance to say anything I moved away from him towards the back of the train. I saw two trolleys left, both had someone in them but at least it was one person in either.  

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door to the left side of the train. Whoever was in there motioned for me to enter.  

“Sorry to bother you. I was just hoping to find somewhere away from everyone to sit. Is it okay to join you?” I asked and was met by the intense glare of very blue eyes. They were a bit captivating.  

“I beg your pardon?” He asked.  

“Oh, I am sorry I don’t want to trouble you.” I said.  

“No just you are American, yes? Why are you here if you are American?” He asked.  

“May I sit?” I asked again.  

“Yes, for now.” He said looking me over. “Where is your uniform girl?” He asked.  

“Alright I ended up here by accident and ended up finding out I have godparents. They called the school yesterday and I guess they made room for me to join at the last minute. I no longer have a home in America. I am not sure if I ever really had one there to begin with. Apparently, my mother kind of just made me disappear after I was born. I have no clue where to obtain the uniform so I guess I will have to find out whenever we get to this wizarding school.” I said. It came out a little longer than I expected it to, but he seemed rather amused by my answer.  

“Did you just tell me that you were essentially abandoned by your family?” he said with a wicked grin across his face.  

“Something tells me I should have kept that to myself.” I mumbled and looked down. I sat my bag next to me and tried to settle in, but he continued to stare at me.  

“I am Lucius Malfoy. I am Draco’s father.” He said.  

“Cool never heard of either of you. I am y/n.” I said and he scoffed.  

“You have never heard of us?” He said now appearing annoyed with a wrinkle in between his forehead.  

“If you continue to stare at me like that you will force your body to age and poorly, I might add.” I said. He lightened up and looked slightly amused by what I said.  

“Well, you seem about as friendly as I do.” He said and looked away from me. He was rather entertaining.  

“How old might you be y/n” He asked.  

“I am eighteen. You?” I asked and he again smiled.  

“Don’t worry about my age Darling.” He said laughing a little.  

“What is with everyone calling anybody they want darling here. I can tell you must be at the ripe age of forty with the damn word.” I said  

“Well, well, careful. You have gotten awfully close.” He laughed. “Do you know what house you have been sorted into?” He asked.  

“I just got here yesterday. No I don’t. I am sorry for being short but, I am tired I did not sleep well last night at all.” I said.  

“Sorry, get some rest. Do you want me to wake you when they bring the food cart around?” He asked.  

“Don’t bother. I have nothing to me right at this moment. I am still questioning if any of my cards are going to work here.” I said and leaned against the trolley’s wall.  

“Alright then. Have a nice rest.” He said and went back to reading his book.  

The train was nice and steady so I was able to rest a bit. That was until the temperature dropped intensely. I was shivering and opened my eyes to see Mr. Malfoy cuddled up into his cape and asleep as well. He really doesn’t look that bad. He is rather dreamy. I looked over to the window towards the door of the trolley and everything felt freezing. I saw something floating around and looking at each trolley. Something opened mine and I looked down. I felt something on the side of my face and I looked up at it and it started to feel like it was inhaling my soul. No. I can’t die. I won’t. However, before I managed to grab out my wand Mr. Malfoy had already startled away and yelled out “Expecto Patronum!” It disappeared before my eyes. I looked over at him and he held his arms out and came to my side of the trolley.  

“Darling are you alright?” He asked.  

“What the fuck was that?” I asked.  

“Watch your tongue young lady. That was a dementor. They are probably looking for that Potter kid again. He is nothing but trouble. Stay clear of him if you want to survive Hogwarts dear.” He said now his arms wrapped around me.  

“Please remove yourself from me Mr. Malfoy.” I said. He cleared his throat and backed off of me and put himself back at the opposite side.  

“Very well. You just looked frightened. I just wanted to maybe calm you.” He said.  

“Thank you but, that is unneccesary. Thank you for sending that thing away from me though.” I said. He gave me a weird look and then his lips twitched into a small smile.  

“Father, can you believe Potter is telling people that a dementor came onto the train and tried to take his soul again?” A blonde haired boy came into the trolley. He kind of resembled a darker toe head from america but, snoppy.  

“Who is this father?” He asked.  

“Y/n, this is my son Draco. Draco you will see to it that she gets to the dining hall without getting lost. If she is to need help at all you will assist her.” Mr. Malfoy said while staring at me.  

“That is kind of you but it is unneccessary.” I said.  

“Nonsense. The school is massive. You will get lost surely. Draco can help. He wouldn’t mind would you Draco?” He looked to his son.  

“I suppose not. Nice to meet you y/n.” He said scanning his eye over me. Draco sat next to his father and started to stare at my chest.  

“Would you like a picture Draco? I mean you are staring aweful hard.” I said taunting him. He was not my type but, it wouldn’t be hard to befriend him right? 

“I would love one.” He appeared to get excited. I scoffed and crossed my arms. Pig. His father smiled and tried to hide the laughter creeping out of his throat. Only moments later the train came back to a stop and the two stood up.  

“Do you have any bags dear?” Mr. Malfoy asked.  

“Just the backpack.” I said. He pursed his lips and nodded.  

“Ladies first.” He said and motioned for me to exit the trolley. I stood up and made my way out of the trolley and off the train. I was going to run over to Harry and them but, they were already pretty far away so I slowed down. I at this point felt like I had no choice but to wait for Draco if I was going to get anywhere. Sure enough he walked up to me and in tandem we made our way to the Dining Hall.  

“Draco Malfoy. Please bring y/n up here to us please.” The person in the middle of the table said.  

“This is Dumbledore. He is our headmaster here. Professor McGonagall is next to him and will probably be who you turn to if you need anything.” Draco said as he walked me up and past everyone in the dining hall and they all turned to look at Draco and I. Dumbledore stood up and had a hat in his possession. It looked weird.  

“What is that?” I asked.  

“It’s the sorting hat.” Draco said as we made our final steps up to the table.  

“Hello Ms. y/n y/l/n, it has come to my understanding that you have very different customs over in America so I would like you to put on the hat and let it tell you what house you should be put in.” I looked at him confused but he put the hat over my head and the hat made some grumbling noises.  

“I- I have only seen this one other time in my life. I can’t put you there. You don’t belong in Ravenclaw. No not Gryffindor. Hm, Slytherin? No.” It said still riffling through.  

“I have got it. No where. You do not belong. You are different.” It said and Dumbledore looked at me. His eyes widened a bit.  

“It has to be somewhere.” Professor McGonagall said.  

“Where do you want to be?” It asked me.  

“Anywhere. I want to belong.” I thought to myself.  

“You wont belong anywhere. You will always be different.” It said.  

“Surely, that is not true.” Professor McGonagall said.  

“Green I see so much green, you must be a Slytherin.” The hat said.  

“Very well that is where you shall go then. Slytherin.” The hat made the statement and Dumbledore looked at Professor McGonagall and she nodded to him as if they had their own conversation in their heads.  

“Come now, have a seat at the table. Sit next to Malfoy for now and then I will have someone show you to the room.” She said. I followed her order and went and sat down next to Draco. He tried to talk to me but, I pushed around the food that was on the plate in front of me. It looked good and smelled good but, I don’t think I can eat it. The apple I ate for Mrs. Weasley was still making my stomach hurt.  

“One thing you should know is Snape is the worst.” Draco said.  

“Who?” I asked and then he pointed behind him to the long black haired stoic man at the table of professors. Oh my. He is gorgeous to look at. The crooked nose. The snarl on his face was even handsome. The deepset anger presented on his face appeared permanent. He looked at me and gave me a look that made me turn my head away from him and redirect my attention to the food.  

“He looks like he hates life.” I mumbled.  

“He makes the rest of us feel that way.” Draco said.  

“Your dad is something else Draco. I mean he has kind of a big head.” I said.  

“Yes, that he does.”  

He started to eat his food and every so often would look at me as I pushed the food around the plate.  

“Ms. Y/l/n please follow me. Your sleeping quarters are in the dungeon.” Excuse me. They are where? Draco’s eyes widened and he gripped onto my wrist as I stood up. He pulled me down to where my ear was next to his mouth.  

“Do not wander at night. That place scares the life out of everyone at night.” He said and then released me.  

I stood up and readjusted my shirt and followed him out of the room. The dark haired tall professor made strides towards the stairs.  

“Alright Professor. No offense but, your legs are about as long as my body. I am short and 5’2 that means I do not walk nearly as fast as you. Will you please slow down?” I asked.  

“Learn to walk faster.” He said not turning around. Alright he was indeed an asshole. But, he was a good looking one and he sure looked good walking away from me.  

“I suggest you figure out how to keep the pace or you will get lost and I will not try and find you.” He said and with that I started to run up to him.  

“No running inside.” He said and I mentally picturing throwing a book at his head. Shit my books. Harry has them. I hope I run into him before any classes tomorrow.  

“Move.” I heard Snapes voice become louder as I turned a corner I saw him go down. He stopped in front of the stair case.  

“Fine I will slow down this once. Do not get lost in this area. Most students only come down here for the Dark Arts and potions classes but, that won’t be until the afternoons now.” He said and before I started to descend the stairs he put his arm in front of me.  

“Wait.” He said and then the stairs began to move. Oh hell. This is going to make me sick. I felt dizzy so I sat on the stairs and he peered down at me.  

“Are you alright Ms. Y/l/n?” He asked. It didn’t sound like he genuinely wanted to know.  

“I’m just dizzy. This school is a lot. It is very different from mine. Our stairs, well, they did not move sir.” I said and he looked at me and scoffed.  

“All you american’s are outdated.” He said and drew his eyes forward off of me.   “You all seem to have a pattern here to.” I said.  

“Excuse me?” He said. The stairs came to a halt and he grabbed my arm and helped me off the stairs.  

“You all have no problem expressing your opinions. Whether its over the accent or what you think America is like.” I said and looked down. I wouldn’t be American if my mother hadn’t made me disappear. He walked us to a very dark hallway. Nothing was lighting the hallway and at this point I was nervous.  

“Right this way.” He said ignoring everything i just said. He slowed down significantly but kept his distance from me. He showed me to a room that had my name on it.  

“It appears you have your own room. No one to share with. I-” He said and then peered down and noticed there was a light on in the room.  

“Stand back please.” He said and then guarded himself with his wand as he opened the door to the room and saw a blonde almost silver haired tall man in my room.  

“Lucius Malfoy?” Professor Snape asked a bit stunned.

“Hello Severus. I met ms. Y/l/n on the train ride here. Draco already informed me she was a slytherin so I thought she would need some uniforms. I brought her some as well as the required books. No need for her to fall behind.” He said and peered out into the hallway and made eye contact with me. I smiled at him a little. When did Draco have time to tell his dad that? It just happened only moments ago.  

“Well you should go.” Snape said.  

“Nonsense. I would like to talk to her for a moment before leaving. I will come see you in a minute Severus. I know you are just across the hall.” He said. Now I am a bit intimidated. The dark haired hot professor was across the hall from me. Does he live here? Why would anyone choose to live in a school?  

“Very well, I will see you in a minute Lucius.” He said and walked out of the room and I stepped inside and closed the door.  

“How can I help you Mr. Malfoy?” I asked.  

[batkidsandco]

I'm Counting On You To Be My Wings And My Eyes

Chapter 2

Bruce frowned at the screen as the loading symbol continued to spin. This is taking too long he thought as he lowered himself into the chair. Since they’d brought Tim home Bruce had spent every spare moment looking for Dollmaker. Not that he had as much spare time now a days. Glancing at the clock on the screen he sighed and stood back up. He’d been working all night and now it was morning. Stifling a yawn he made his way out of the Batcave and upstairs to Tim’s room. *** Tim was lying in bed his eyes wide open and his head turned towards the door. He’d heard someone approaching his room and though he couldn’t see he suspected it was day time.

‘Hey Timmy boy ready to get up?’ he heard Bruce’s voice from the doorway. Tim nodded. ‘OK and do you need cleaning up first?’ this time a shake. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful for this choice of wording everyone seemed to have settled on. On one hand he didn’t think he would be comfortable being asked if his diaper needed changing. But on the other hand it felt like everyone was avoiding saying anything that would force them to fully face the reality of their situation.

‘Alright I’m going to pick you up now.’ He felt his bed sheets being pulled back before he was lifted off the bed before being placed back down on top of the covers. Once they’d decided on what Tim was going to wear that day, Bruce would give him two options for his top and pants which Tim would pick by clicking his tongue once or twice, it was time to get him dressed for the day. Carefully maneuvering his arms Bruce pulled his t-shirt off of him then his Pajama pants before pulling his clothes on. Once he was dressed Bruce picked him up again and placed him in his wheelchair before putting his socks on followed by his shoes.

‘Right I’ll just give your hair a tidy and then we can get you some breakfast.’ Tim felt his chair being pushed towards what he knew was his bathroom. There he heard Bruce sit himself down on the chair before hearing the sound of something being run through his hair. Closing his eyes he focused on the sound and the feeling of Bruce’s rough scarred hand on top of his own. Tim knew he wasn’t a touchy person, or a talkative one so he was very grateful that when it was just the two of them he made the effort to talk to him more, or even just hold his hand like this. Tim couldn’t stand it when he couldn’t hear or feel anyone in the room with him. It was funny before he’d loved his own company every now and then. Now it scared him, made him feel even more vulnerable than he already did in a crowded room.

‘I’m going to find Dollmaker.’ He heard Bruce mutter though Tim wasn’t sure if he was talking to him or thinking out loud. ‘I’m going to find him, make him fix this, fix what he’s done. And if he won’t or god forbid can’t… Well I don’t have to kill him to make him sorry.’ Was there any fixing this? Would someone like Dollmaker every be sorry he’d hurt someone, anyone the way he had Tim? Probably not but until they knew for certain he’d let Bruce keep telling him there was. Lifting his head up to where the voice was coming from and gave a small smile. As he did so Bruce lifted Tim’s hand and placed it on his forehead.

‘Now let’s get you something to eat, before Alfred comes looking for the both of us.’

[carpesabrina]

“He is way behind. He said that Sarah doesn’t want that. No matter how many times I say that isn’t true.” She rolled her eyes. Sarah and her were best friends, they talked about everything from marriage to babies. She knew that George was just scared to take that next big step. “She’s not? I’m glad. I was worried she would start trying to pressure us into it. Or say we can’t get married or some shit.” She shrugged. The last thing she wanted was to not being able to marry Max. But she also knew he wouldn’t put up with that. “But I also don’t want to completely ignore your religion. Like it’s part of us. And whatever kids we have will be Jewish.” They had never talked about what would happen when they actually have kids. But the thoughts had crossed her mind more recently since she had originally found out she was pregnant. Just because her family wasn’t religious, didn’t mean that she couldn’t let her kids be. She wasn’t sure how it would all work out if she wasn’t jewish, but they would figure it out like they always did. “She is, but she can hang with daddy for a few hours.” She laughed. “She might fight you on it though.”

He had mentioned telling her his ideas when they got back home, but she was pleasantly surprised when he brought them up. She rose an eyebrow at the first one. “So like want me to fight back until I just give into the robber?” She asked, trying to imagine what all he wanted with that. “Oh, pretending we’re single and you chasing a guy away could be fun. Could fuck me in the bathroom before you take me home. Or fuck me on the dance floor again.” She teased, pressing a kiss against his lips. “But you chasing a guy away doesn’t mean that you’ll beat them again, right? Because if I’m sitting at a bar alone, I can guarantee someone is gonna come up and try and get with me.” She definitely didn’t want to risk a Vegas 2.0 with the beating. They had lucked out that the guy had never went to the cops after the fact. But Sabrina was ready to fight back if he had and say it was all self defense on their end. But that didn’t mean they would be lucky the second time, although Tony would definitely bail Max out and probably erase whatever happened. Money was good at times. “I’ve had a few. Other than dominating you, and with the roleplaying route - could do boss and employee. I have to have sex with you to get raise. Maybe give you head while you’re on a business call… Actually, that’d be hot. See how long you can last before you break while you’re on the phone with someone important.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him, letting her fingers lightly scratch at his shoulders. “Or chocolate. I haven’t had the privilege of licking chocolate off of your body. Off of your cock.” They both knew how much she loved chocolate, and it wouldn’t be the first time she had brought food play into the bedroom. It made the whole experience sweet and sticky. “I think your cock would taste delicious with some chocolate on it,” she smirked. She watched as he continued to fuck her tits. Even though she didn’t have a lot, he still made them work with his size. “Your cock looks so hot between them.” She let out a moan. As he got off of her and the bed, she looked up at him, her eyes glued to his as he jerked off. Her tongue stuck out far enough to lick her lips as she felt him start releasing his load on her tits. “Mhmmm that’s it daddy, cover my tits.” She smirked as he scooped his cum up and brought them to her lips, mainly because if he didn’t do it, she was going to. She wrapped her lips around his fingers and sucked his fingers clean. “I love the taste of your cum.” She murmured softly. “I get a choice of what you do to me next?” She asked. Normally she didn’t, and it was all a loving surprise. “I want you to eat me and then fuck me. Teach me a lesson for being such a brat to you tonight.” Her hand moved to her breast, scooping some cum up and then she moved her hand between her thighs, teasing her clit. “Unless you rather me make myself cum again. Could actually watch it this time.” She smirked, her fingers moving down further and pushed through her folds, moaning as she thrusted them into herself, her eyes still maintaining eye contact with him.

Max couldn't agree more and never wanted his family or hers to see him as perverse or some threat to her. He was never a threat to her and knew she knew that. If she asked for him to tame or stop their experimenting together then they would, no questions asked. He could live without that but he couldn't live without her. "Alex knows I love pretty women and you are gorgeous." He couldn't help but grin at her words. "I'm still working that out in my head but I'm glad I did. Hey, I'm working on George, he is way behind in asking her to marry him." Max hoped George would listen, it had been almost four years and the man needed to step up. "I'm surprised but no, she's not pushing it which I'm glad. I want you to do what you want. You don't have to convert for me to love you. All you have to be is you and you do do that very well." He smiled as she said she looked forward to it too. He was sure she had seen most of the world but it was all new to him and there was no one he wanted to see it with then her. "Winnie is a mama's girl but I'll definitely snuggle her. "

There were a few things that he thought could be fun so since she asked he figured why not tell her. "Same with you babydoll. I'm open to anything you want to try. I have a few ideas I was going to bring up. Most are roleplay things, like you being asleep and a robber breaks in and has his way with you. Going out and pretending we're single and me chasing some guy that hits on you away. Nothing too crazy. What about you?" For as bad a rep as Max had he was respectful to her, their families and friends. He would never do anything in Ashley's home to disrespect her. "Oh that table has your name all over it." She chucked at her saying bend her over it. "Their first night had started with him taking her ass first and she hadn't forgotten. He knew she had always been insecure about her tits, thinking them to small even making jokes about it but Max loved them and was always eager to show her how much. "Your tits look so good with my cock buried between them. Mmm, good girl...just like that." He knew she wanted him to cum on her tits so when he started to feel close he bent to kiss her before sliding off of her and the bed. Locking eyes with her he jerked his cock a few times before beginning to unload his cum on her tits. He dipped his fingers into the cum and slid them into her mouth. "Suck like a good slut for daddy. Do you want him to eat you next or what does his little girl want?"

[arc-misadventures]

FMK Nora. Jaune/Ren/Oscar... Good luck

Nora II: FMK

Nora: Hmm… Well this is tricky…

Jaune: Well, I’m worried now…

Ren: You’re worried now?

Jaune: I’ve grown accustomed to, Nora’s antics. So, I don’t get as easily worried as I did before.

Ren: That makes sense. So, what’s so worry about her this time though?

Jaune: She’s thinking… About what I do not know, but that scares me. Nora, usually acts, and doesn’t overly plan out her actions. Sure there is some planning to her madness. But, nonetheless, when she puts her mind to it, she can create great things…

Ren: Or, destroy them with reckless abandon with ease…

Jaune: Precisely…

Oscar: …

Oscar: I-Is it always like this with, Nora…?

Ren: Yes, but you’ll get used to it eventually.

Oscar: Oh… Oh no…

Nora: Okay! I’ve got it!

Jaune: Yay! Now we can all die together!

Oscar: Haha! Very funny, Jaune.

JR: …

Oscar: V-Very funny, Jaune…?

Nora: Okay! First things first; I kill, Ren…

Jaune: What did you do?

Ren: Nothing, I didn’t do anything!

Jaune: Which is precisely what you did wrong!

Ren: There’s no way that’s why she’s so upset!

Nora: That’s exactly why I’m so upset you jerk!

Ren: Oh… Uhhh…?!

Oscar: Is this what you meant by fearing, Nora, Jaune?

Jaune: Oh, you’ll know when to fear, Nora boy. Oh you’ll know…

Oscar: O-Okay…

Nora: Okay… After that, I would fuck cute boy, Oz!

Oscar: W-W-WHAT?!

Nora: I’m gonna fuck him so hard, and rough he’ll be begging for more from his new, Mommy. I’ll ruin him for any other girl! So he’ll only be mine!!!

JR: …

Nora: When he’s legal.

Jaune: Oh, okay.

Ren: Seems reasonable.

Oscar: Are you kidding me?! She’s threatening to break me?!

Jaune: So you’d die death by snu snu. What’s not to like about that?

Oscar: Say what?!

Ren: Tis there not a more nobler way to go~?

Oscar: Are you guys planning my funeral?!

JR: Yes.

Ren: Joking aside, do you think, Nora, would break, Oscar if they did it?

Jaune: You were joking around? I was being serious: Of course she would break him like a twig of twigs!

Ren: Oh…

Oscar: I need an adult…

Ren: So, since, I get killed, for some reason… I guess that means you’re going to marry, Jaune?

Nora: Yes! I get to marry, Jaune, and I finally get to live out my life long dream!

Jaune: I thought her life long dream was dying under a tower of pancakes?

Ren: I thought so too, but this whole thing with, Oscar has thrown a grenade into that.

Oscar: So… Uhhh… what’s this dream y-you were talking about?

Nora: Well, if I marry, Jaune I get a new mom, and that that actually love me! And, I get a whole bunch of sisters in my life as well!

Ren: Oh, so she’s marrying you for your family.

Jaune: If that’s it, then I don’t mind. My family already loves her to bits. Hell if we didn’t go this route my mom would probably adopted her, you too if you want.

Ren: R-Really…?

Nora: Then, we would have loads of sex, and make a really, really big family! One that would rival, no surpass, Mom’s family size! And we would eat loads of pancakes, and live happily ever after!

Oscar: Oh, that sounds… nice?

Ren: I think you better go, and do that.

Jaune: Why: Because that sounds like a lovely idea, or because it would save, Oscar’s pelvis?

Oscar: My what?!

Ren: Mmmm… Both…?

Jaune: …

Jaune: Sure, why not. A moment, Nora?

Nora: Hmm? Need something, Fearless Lea… Whoa?! Hey, why are you picking me up?! Put me down!

Jaune: Nope.

Nora: Grrrr! Where are you taking me?!

Jaune: The bedroom.

Nora: What, why?!

Jaune: To consummate the marriage.

Nora: …

Nora: FUCK YEA!!!

Ren: (Sniff) There goes a real hero…

Oscar: Is it always like this with you guys?!

Ren: Yes, get used to it, or go mad from the insanity of it all.

Oscar: Oh…

Oscar: …

Oscar: Shit…

[piratesfromspace]

Finance Management (Deckard Shaw/Reader)

Deckard Shaw (Fast & Furious) x Reader

Word count: 1.9k CW: mention of food & alcohol, smut

Female reader

Note: This short fic has been inspired by a friend of mine who created the character of the financial advisor of mister Shaw.  Also there is not enough fics with Deckard Shaw so here we are. 

Read on Ao3

MASTERLIST

“Mister Shaw, it’s me again, I’m so sorry but I really need you to call me back please. It’s important. Thank you.”

You let out a deep sigh as you hang up. Handling the finances of rich people is a lucrative and thrilling job, but damn it sometimes those clients of yours are annoying. Especially Mister Shaw.

First, he’s annoyingly busy and unreachable. Most powerful people are, but he can disappear for weeks on end without so much as sending an email.

Second, he’s also infuriatingly handsome and smart and funny. And he has an impeccable sense of style. He has nothing in common with the other clients of your firm, mainly old and boring men, whose only conversation subject is their money and how they hate their wives.

And finally, the worst thing about him is how good of a lover he is. You found out half a year ago, when you ended up in his bed after what should have been a regular business dinner. It was a mistake of course. One that could have cost you your career because it was a very serious breach of contract to sleep with a client.

You never told a soul, and you promised yourself to never do it again. But it was still hard to forget the feeling of him pressed against you, of his hands holding your waist, of his mouth between your thighs...

You try to focus again on your task and stretch your legs, kicking out your high heels. Feet bare on the soft carpet, you walk to the floor-to-ceiling window of your posh office, taking a second to admire the view, as the final rays of the sun disappear over the lake, and Geneva lights up under you. It’s breath-taking, really. But it also means you’re once again staying way too late at the office. Your assistant has gone home a couple hours ago, and your colleagues are either on vacation or on business trips, making you the only person on the building’s 7th floor. You still have a few things to finish so you plop on your leather chair and get back to work, hoping to make it home before 11pm.

That’s when you hear it: the familiar *ding* of the elevator’s door, at the end of the corridor. You tense immediately. You’re not waiting for anyone, and the security guards always use the stairs when completing their patrol.

Steps are coming down your way, and you grab your phone, ready to dial for the security team. And then you recognize his silhouette through the polished glass wall. There is a knock on your door before it opens to reveal Deckard Shaw himself. He’s wearing an expensive suit and an even more expensive watch, a very light stubble is highlighting his perfect jawbone and his deep grey eyes bear a mischievous glint. Handsome, as always.

“Mister Shaw…” you stammer.

“You know you can call me Deckard.” His stupidly sexy British accent and cocky smile will be the death of you.

He’s been in your office for two seconds and you already want to slap him in the face - or climb him like a tree, you can’t really decide.

“It’s quite late, Mister Shaw, you scared me. Anything I can do for you?” you insist on saying his family name, in a feeble attempt to maintain a professional façade.

“You needed to see me.” it’s more a comment than a question, and you’re suddenly reminded of the dozen of unanswered phone calls you made trying to reach him.

“Yes… yes, that’s right, but honestly you could have called tomorrow morning.”

“I’d rather see you in person.” he answers, looking you straight in the eyes. You can feel yourself blushing under his gaze. “Wanted to make sure you’re alright. You’re working too much you know.” he says with a soft smile, as his eyes drift down to your sore bare feet and then to the discarded heels under your desk.

What a condescending prick, you think. But at the same time, he’s right and his care seems somewhat genuine. It will not make you forget you almost lost your job because of him though.

“How did you know I was still here tonight?” you purposely redirect the attention on him, rather than you.

“Well, let’s say I would not leave the woman in charge of my assets without any... supervision.”

“Is that a polite way to say you’ve been spying on me?” you retort dryly.

“Oh I love when you’re getting all angry and snobbish, your French accent is even cuter.”

You’re gonna murder him. You really really want to tell him to go fuck himself, but he’s the one responsible for a very generous part of your paycheck, so you have to keep quiet.

“I would be more comfortable if we keep our conversation strictly professional, Mister Shaw.”

“Everything you want, dear.”

-----

“Mmph, fu-ck... Deckard, don’t stop”

The professional attitude has been long forgotten, since Deckard has pulled you onto his lap on the velvet couch of his presidential suite at the Four Seasons hotel, where you were supposed to only review the important documents he needed to see. But when the room service had brought a very nice bottle of Scotch, you knew you were screwed. You could not refuse a drink, and the warmth of alcohol combined with the warmth of his hand slightly brushing against your thigh had overcome all your resolve.

You are now sprawled on the king-size bed, moaning his name as Deckard Shaw is destroying your sanity very methodically. One foot on the floor, one leg bent on the edge of the bed, he’s pounding into you, holding your hip with one hand, and circling your clit with the other. His pace is calculated, not too fast so you can feel every inch of him, but not too slow so your nerves don’t have any respite, and it’s driving you crazy. Hands tangled in the dark silk sheets beneath you, you try to catch your breath to no avail.

“I won’t stop darling. Not until I can feel you coming again all over me.” His voice is like heavy honey, dripping all over your senses, drowning you in sweet and sinful promises.

You want to close your eyes to focus on the overwhelming feelings, but the view in front of you is too good to be missed. He looks like some demi-god, bathed in the subdued light of the room, broad and muscular chest, abs perfectly drawn. What is his job again? You vaguely remember him talking about serving a few years in the military when he was younger, but he is still definitely hitting the gym on a regular basis.

His muscles flex when he brings you down on his thick cock a little more sharply than before, and you keen as he hits that perfect spot inside of you. You can feel your orgasm build again, and so can he.

“You’re close, princess, aren’t you?”

You mewl in response and he chuckles darkly, keeping up with his ruthless assault on your most sensitive parts. He angles his fingers just a bit differently on your clit, and keeps thrusting into you, stretching you so perfectly you can’t remember the last time someone fucked you this good - wait , actually you can, it was a few months ago and it was by mister Deckard “annoyingly perfect” Shaw.

“Come on, I know you want to, I’ll keep going until you give me one more anyway princess…”

And that's it. You’re gone. Back arching off the bed, you come hard, harder than the first time, clenching around him. You barely hear him hiss in pleasure as you spasm helplessly on the soft sheets, the silk feeling almost cool against your burning skin.

----

“Good morning darling."

You open an eye, natural light is flooding the room, as is the delicious smell of fresh coffee and tea. At the foot of the bed, you spot a room service trolley loaded with breakfast treats and through the open door of the bathroom, you can see Deckard is looking at you in the mirror reflection while buttoning a crisp white shirt.

"Your tea is ready. Black, no milk, right?”

He's right and it's annoying because is there anything this man messes up?

"What time is it?" You ask, suddenly remembering you have a busy schedule today.

"You have 27 minutes to eat and get ready, so I can drop you off at your office in time for your first call of the day."

He knows about your tea preferences and your professional agenda, of course he does , he was not joking when mentioning the whole "spying-on-you" situation, or "supervision" as he liked to call it. He needs to stop it, but you decide to keep this discussion for another day.

You stretch, and rise to put on the hotel bathrobe, sighing at the thought of having to wear the same clothes as yesterday. Last you saw them, they were scattered on the floor all over the room and your underwear were positively ruined.

"The concierge was very helpful this morning, thanks to him I got you a few clothes delivered for today." Deckard adds as he pours himself a cup of coffee from the cart and gestures to the leather armchair where a couple of bags doning logos of luxury brands are perched.

You make your way to the packages, and open the first one to reveal a sophisticated dress, fitted and sexy, but not too much that it would be inappropriate as office wear. The second bag is a thoughtful selection of high end make-up products. And the last one contains a gorgeous set of lacy lingerie, nothing too raunchy but sexy nonetheless. Of course everything is in the right size.

"Thank you..." you whisper, a little stunned. The assortment must have cost him a couple grands at the very least - not that he can't afford it because you're well placed to be sure he can, but still, he did not have to do this.

You have to suppress a smile, because damn he's being annoyingly perfect once more, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction to reveal he was right when promising you could stay the night instead of going home and still look fresh for your day at work.

"I was thinking, I'm free tonight, so maybe we can finally review those documents, you know the ones you were supposed to show me before you jumped on me on the couch last night?" Deckard states as he bites in an apple in front of the window, casually looking at lake Geneva glinting in the bright morning sun.

You blush unwillingly, struggling to find a reply that would save you from admitting you had failed at enforcing your usual work ethic.

"I'm kidding dear!" He barks in a laugh. "I know enough to trust you on this venture, you have my approval to go on with the investment." He continues more seriously.

You open your mouth to answer but he's quicker.

"I'm not kidding about being free though, so what about dinner and then we can see where this takes us…"

When you don't answer immediately, he turns to look at you. Maybe he's realizing the situation can be awkward and precarious for you since you're technically working for him.

"You can say no, I won't take any offense." He adds without irony.

"Yes..." You finally answer, tip toeing toward him until you can snatch the apple he was eating from him. He protests but you shush him.

"...Yes, I would like this very much..."

As he starts to protest again, you take a big bite from the fruit with a knowing smile.

"...but only for dinner. Nothing more."

"You'll be the death of me." Deckard says, falsely irritated, his voice dropping lower.

"At least the feeling is mutual, mister Shaw ..."

[itsthe-neo-zone]

[03:18PM] ~ Park Jongseong x Reader, Apocalypse au

You didn’t want to live with the misery of regretting everything.

But that all went out the window as soon as the apocalypse began.

2 weeks, it’s been 13 whole days and 12 nights since the whole world decided to end itself.

The reason? An outbreak, a malicious deadly disease terraforming the earth in its own way. Killing everyone and everything with it. And when you say terraforming you mean turning us all against each other.

You regretted waking up that Wednesday morning, regretted getting out of bed, not hugging your mother in your arms longer and giving your family a proper farewell.

You were in school when it happened your district sounding the sirens, mid-week morning meaning you were in the dinner halls, you heard the sirens and all hell broke loose, the diners small tv monitor picked up an emergency broadcast.

Shaking your head subconsciously you drifted your mind away from what happened. It had been difficult thinking the past few days, even eating was becoming a luxury at times.

Like now, you’ve been wandering empty suburb streets looking for something to sustain yourself, where you were looked to be like a neighbouring district, but you weren’t sure, the sign posts were all ripped down to make any form of defence weapon, supplies were scarce at this point.

The scent on you was horrid but not as putrid as the stench of rotting corpses filing the earth. You stopped turning to look around you. The street was dusted with ruined houses all damaged and crumbled to the grounds.

Maybe you could crash into an abandoned one, maybe there was food and maybe you’d finally be able to use an actual bathroom. Your stomach grumbled with delight at the thought of food.

As you were about to pull the rusting metal rod in your hand towards the nearest property you heard a shrieking ear deafening pop,

The blood hit your brain, adrenaline began quickly building up inside you, like a band slowly stretching about to snap, your heart rattling in your chest. It tightened slightly. You swayed slightly from the shock of adrenaline hitting your numb body.

You swiftly turned to see nothing behind you but a pelleted bullet, someone around you had a weapon, and their target? You.

You began seeing the blurred edges of your sight return a sign to take response. Fight or flight. You chose the latter feeling weaker than expected. Heading outwards past the last few properties your best hope was to lose your hunter out in the wilderness.

Brushing past leaves twigs and the thicket of the edges of the lush greenery you low down once you’re no longer hearing bullets trailing after you. It was quiet

Almost too quiet to be normal. You push yourself up against a tree, straining your breath to regulate faster than it should. You regretted being stupid to do that too as you felt the persisting tickle at the back of your throat.

It let a much needed cough to begin crawling up your oesophagus. Shutting your eyes for a moment you stiffened your lips slightly holding it back. Why now of all times, you’d been surviving fine…

You could hear a slight crunch of foliage under careful feet, slowly creeping up on you.

You’d be done for this time if they did have a weapon. Trembling fingers dug into the metallic rod in your palms, they’d make indents from how hard you were gripping.

Feeling your chest tighten a little. The metal was starting to feel slippery in between clammy fingers but you held it to your face keeping your stance ready.

You were scared, no, terrified even. But that didn’t mean you were going to give up so easily. You wanted to survive, you had to.

Ironic.

A few weeks you were ready to give up on life itself.

As you sighed, you prepared to turn and show yourself but as you made a move you felt something restrict your breath and pull you away from the edge of the tree. You didn’t have your hand on your mouth though.

It was a foreign feeling but it was something you greeted with open arms, it was warm, and you forgot the caress of another on your cold stiff body.

Caress of another? It wasn’t my hands.

Gunshots sounded across the clearing you hid from. Disturbing screeches of birds fleeted from above. A harsh thump fell to the floor. A limp body.

But it wasn’t yours. You still had a chance.

Eyes widening, you registered the figure behind you keeping you hold in a strong grip.

The surging boost of energy you had left pushed you to kick with your feet. Backwards tripping up your attacker. The gunshots stopped but you were sure it was them, not just one but 2, maybe more…

The figure fell back unable to balance themselves but you were pulled back, you pushed yourself out of their hold, they pulled away regained their stance before attacking you from your side,

the male twisted his arm around your head and the other at your waist holding your arms down. He was agile and had strength but you managed to be faster. Quickly thinking, you moved.

Digging your elbow into their side hitting them right beneath their rib cage.

Bingo,

you heard a slight grunt they pushed away from you trying to recover.

You turned grabbing the rod, eyes shaking to survey the sight before you. It was just one, you swing your arms back getting ready to attack.

“Stop!” A strained call out towards your direction, but you faltered, it wasn’t for you? He directed it behind you falling back slightly. You turned to see another male.

Eyes trained like he was about to pounce on his prey. What was more horrifying was the gun now in his hold pointed directly at you.

“Don’t, Jake, she’s harmless.”

His arms stayed firmly ahead of him holding the weapon. “Harmless my ass, you were about to lose your head,” his fingers wavered.

“Just listen to me.” The guy stood up. You noticed the tattered and beaten up clothes they wore, rips and smears all over each article. Dried blood splattered across parts of their body. Judging by the colour it wasn’t from today.  

The combat boots the two wore made you think twice about setting down your weapon as you remained in your stance.

But their eyes and faces showed different,

They were anxious, in pain, alert like you.

“Idiot.” He dropped his arms. Mumbling before walking towards the other who was now slowly guiding himself down by supporting himself on the tree.

His face was etched with strain. And for a second you felt a pang of regret. You shrugged the feeling away watching the two converse.

“Are you survivors?” you swayed slightly, pressing forward kept your feet stable you regrated the shakiness your voice had, first people you spoke to in a while and you sound like you were about to cry.

“Just barely,” one huffed, “As I said he was about to lose his head.” The one named Jake turned from tending to his friend and shot you a dirty glare.

Jakes eyes were intense and focused, he didn’t flit nor shy away. Pressing further. You subconsciously step back, eyes looking past him and towards his friend.

“I had to protect myself.” You pull your arms downwards stepping out of the position and lowering your guard slightly.

“Mhm, sure.” He muttered. He turned back lifting the others shirt. A long tear in the seamless skin ran down the males side. It wasn’t bleeding, it looked like it was an old scar. Just barely healed.

“You’re, fine,”

“She had, shit, every right to do that.” The other caught his breath then spoke.

“Right.” Jake pressed his lips into a thin line. It looked like he wasn’t having any of that, his jaw clenched, he was stopping himself from speaking any further.

Standing up and walking past you. He glanced at you up and down before moving back to the clearing.

“Sorry about that,” the boy sitting at the bottom of the tree pushed himself to try getting to his feet, you stared cautiously your fingers tingling to help him, so now you were starting to get your humanity back? Where was this feeling a few days ago?

The fliting sound of slipping feet against the rough terrain is what brought your focus back as you moved to assist him. He groaned.

His eyes caught yours, cautious and foreign, was this just the way he looked at people him or was he anxious to be around you.  

“I’ll … uh.” Your hand waivered, before holding his free arm. “I’ll help you.”

“Um… Thanks.” He nodded clenching his jaw he pushed himself up with your help.

“I’m jay.” His lips pressed into a thin line the edges pushing upwards slightly as he nodded, he stayed silent for a second. You figured out this was an introduction a few seconds late, sucking in a quick breath you mumbled.

“Ah i- yeah…. I’m _____ .” your face tensed up. Jay flashed you a lopsided smile.

“Sorry about earlier, I had to make sure you didn’t interfere while Jake finished up with—uh…”

“Were you the—” you paused. How were you going to ask him if he was the one that was chasing you. How do you word that without sounding weird. “the… I was—”

“You mean the gunshots?” he mumbled.

You quickly nodded giving yourself a mini headache at the fast movement.

“No, we were… in the distance, yeah, when we heard the sound. Just me and Jake.” He lead you to the clearing.

You were slowly introduced into the new space, you watched Jake push the body dressed in black to the side. There was someone following you his face hidden beneath the mask.

“Found all this.” He kicked at the floor with his foot. “shit thing is he’s probably a trained assassin.” He nodded towards the pile of weaponry. “All in his bag, some on him,”

Jake stood up facing Jay. “We need to fucking leave, where there’s one there’s always more.” He lifted a few small items. Something that looked like a smaller loaded gun, testing its scope he tucked it into his pocket.

“Here, take that.” He threw a shielded knife at jay and grabbed a larger gun and handed it to the male next to you.

“lets go.” He walked past Jay and farther out.

As Jay turned he caught your eyes, he saw the anxious glimmer, the shiver you tried to hid and the fact that your fingers were digging in to your palm.

“Our chances of survival are bigger…” he stated. It cut you out of the worry trail your brain was starting to follow,

“Together than apart.”

You caught his eyes. Jay was trying to be as friendly as he could, you could see a glimmer of hope, something you lost within the first 3 days.

“Are you-, I’m sorry I’m a bit confused right— shit, I’ll just ask… are you asking me to…”

“You should come with us.” You silently thanked him for putting you out of your misery. Shocked he was asking you this. And relieved to have met people you could somewhat trust.

“What?”

“HEY! Hurry up if you want to fucking live dude!” Jake was already way ahead.

“Gimme a second!” he sighed, calling out.  

“I was wondering if you wanted to join us. That is if you’re not with anyone right now.”

You could almost cry from the surge of relief you felt. It was almost draining the life out of you fending for yourself. And night-time was when it got its worst alone. No more going crazy talking to yourself.

“Yeah, that would be great.” You voiced out, he smirked, hearing your voice so relieved.

“Glad to hear.” He nodded towards the direction they were headed. Leading you further ahead.

“Do you know how to wield a gun?”

You shook your head.

“I’ll teach you don’t worry.”

~~~

(thinking of truning this idea into a fic what do you think?)

Seola - It’s the neo zone © All rights reserved.

[yespolkadotkitty]

Open Up

A GFS server drabble. We do these every month!

Words: 700 ~ Pairing: Stephen Holder x fem!reader ~ Content: swears, mentions of marriage breakdowns

---

“Yo, mama. Open up. I know you’re in there.”

You close your eyes at the sound of Stephen’s voice interspersed with pounding on the front door of your studio apartment.

You burrow deeper into your bedding, hoping he’ll give up.

You know it’s been four days. You would normally have swapped over a hundred messages by now, but you can’t face him. Not today and maybe not ever again.

“Yo! I need to see you! Please,” he adds.

It’s the please that finally breaks you. You can’t leave him standing there wondering if you’re dead, wondering if your cat Norman is eating your eyeballs.

(Norman would never. He only eats gourmet cat food).

You pad over to the door, look through the peephole.

Stephen looks like shit. You wonder if he’s even slept. His hair is mussed, looks as if he’s been dragging his fingers through it.

Your heart clenches at the tired, strung-out look on his handsome face, and the wrinkled fabric of his trusty hoodie.

You open the door, catching him with his fist raised, about to knock again.

“Jesus! I thought you were dead or somethin’!” He grabs you, pulling you into a hard hug, and you breathe him in and it’s perfect and oh God you missed him.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

He sighs into your hair and he smells of his last cigarette and cheap minty bodywash. Holder. You need him like you need air. Maybe it’s time you finally admitted that to yourself.

Something buts against your leg and you look down. Stephen does too.

“Oh, hey Norms,” he mutters.

The cat meows and then saunters back into your apartment.

“Come in,” you tell Stephen. “Drink?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

The door swings shut behind you both. Stephen rubs a hand over his face. “You gonna tell me why you ain’t answerin’ your phone?”

“Do I have to?” you ask weakly.

“Yeah. You do have to. You owe me that much. We had that one amazin’ night, baby - blew my fuckin’ mind, and then…. You just ghost me.”

“I’m sorry.” You hug yourself, and then hold out your hand. When Stephen takes it, you lead him to the couch, pull him down next to you.

He glances at you, huffs, then finally begins, “Why are you avoiding me?”

“Because…” You bite your lip. “Because I think I’m falling in love with you, okay?”

His brows shoot up. “And that’s a reason to not see me?”

“Yeah.”

He waits for you to elaborate.

“My parents’ marriage was a mess. They were always in and out of each other’s pockets. They had so many fights. My mother’s subsequent relationships were toxic too. But the whole time she insisted she was in love. So love is bad. I mean, for me, anyway. What if I’m just like her? So I got scared. Of changing us.”

Stephen looks at you for a long time. You start to wonder if it’s over, if you’ve ruined it by opening up.

Then he cups your face, very gently, and kisses you.

“We all got baggage. You know? Fact of it is, I’d rather have you with a shit-load of baggage than not have you at all. That shit makes you who you are. You know?”

His words are so soft and sincere that tears well up. You lean into him, and he cuddles you close.

“Did you mean it, baby girl?” he asks. “Falling in love?”

“Yeah.”

“Me, too,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss on your hair. “I think I love you. Maybe I always have. Ever since you told me to shut my mouth that first day in the break room. Don’t make me live without your smart mouth and your sexy smile. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree.

And then he kisses you and you sink into his embrace, and you have your best friend back, only he’s so much more, now.

----

Thanking my babe @loverhymeswith for the beta!

Holder Tags: @11thstreetvigilante @a-reader-and-a-writer @heresathreebee @skvatnavle @spooky-ghosts @babblydrabbly @nerdysuperchick @reysorigins-archive @greymoonfeelings @fairchildflag @madkovacs @lacontroller1991 @bewitchedignition @marvelousmermaid @klmurr

[clareguilty]

The Naked Thing

Hello! I was dying without air conditioning a few weeks ago and decided to make it Mando Smut Mandalorian/f!reader Rating: Explicit | No Warnings Word Count: ~2900

The Crest falls out of hyperspace too soon, and you go flying. Curling around Grogu in your arms, you twist in midair so that your back hits the console to avoid crushing him. A lever digs into your spine, and you curse loudly. That’s going to bruise. Oh well. What’s another?

“What the kriff, Mando?” you snarl. Grogu seems unbothered, blinking at you and probably learning way too many swear words for a child of his size.

Mando pulls himself off the control grid with a pained groan, helmet swiveling as he takes in the damage.

“The good news,” he begins after a moment, “is that we lost them.”

That is good news, you agree. You were lucky that the army of bounty hunters and ex-imps hadn’t kept track of you. If you had shaken them off your trail, then that would earn you a head start to a safer system.

“The bad news is that they shot out our hyperdrive.”

“Dank Farrik,” you curse again, then glance at Grogu. Maybe you should watch your mouth more?

“...And our temperature regulator and our heat shields.”

You decide that it is an appropriate time for as much foul language as you please.

“What does that mean?” you ask. You hadn’t grown up around ships -- spent the last dozen years on the same dead-end planet until Mando picked you up. The most you were good for was turning a knob or flipping a switch here and there. Usually you just kept an eye on Grogu while Mando did all the piloting and bounty hunting and whatnot.

“We’ll have to travel sublight, but we can’t land planet side because without the heat shields any atmosphere worth a damn would burn us up. Our only option is a New Republic Outpost. We’ll be able to land there, and we’ll be safe while they repair the Crest. I’ll chart us a course and let you know how long it should be.”

“You know,” you snap, “we wouldn’t be in this mess if you weren’t so scared of droids. If we had an astromech on board, then we could get the hyperdrive repaired without having to crawl our asses through deep space in the hopes that whoever picks us up doesn’t want us dead.”

Mando doesn’t say anything. You don’t know if your words meant anything at all to him because you can’t see shit behind his helmet. Huffing, you take Grogu down to the hold. Not long after, the engines fire up again.

It takes a few minutes to set in, but its quick enough to be noticeable. The ship is getting hotter. Like… unbearably warm.

You fill a canteen with water and make sure that you and Grogu are both hydrated. After a little bit of digging, you manage to find a portable air circulator. You and Grogu sit directly in front of the current, doing your best to keep cool.

Mando comes down after a little while, he cocks his helmet when he sees you.

“It’s hot,” you whine.

“The temperature regulator is shot too. We don’t have a way too cool the ship down or shield the heat of the engines.”

You sigh. “How long until we can get repairs?”

“34 hours. Will the kid be okay for that long?”

Grogu hasn’t outwardly complained about the heat, mostly just sitting in front of the circulator with his eyes closed and ears flapping, but you’ve been worried as well. “He’s kind of… amphibious,” you frown. “I’ll get him a basin of water to sit in and put him in the fresher with the circulator. That should keep him cooled off.”

Mando nods. “Thank you. Will you be okay?”

You shrug. There’s not much you can do. As long as you stay hydrated then you should be able to last 34 hours.

“Thank you,” he says again.

“For what?” All you’ve done is curse at him and berate him for not having an astromech droid.

“For looking out for him back there. You saved all of us with that droid popper. And the move with the cannon was impressive.”

You aren’t expecting genuine praise from Mando. It always felt as though you were dead weight to him. Through all the planets you’ve been on -- and been chased off of -- you’ve always felt useless.You can’t fly, you’re not the best shot, you can barely take care of his kid. It means a lot that he doesn’t actually hate you. 

“I’m starting to get the hang of this,” you grin. You had never considered yourself a hero or adventurer, but you had commandeered a cannon and shot down three imperial fighters.

“I’ll be up in the cockpit if you need anything. Just knock.” And he’s gone.

‘Knock’ means that Mando is probably going to take his helmet and armor off, which means you also get a few hours of total privacy. You set Grogu up in the fresher with a basin of water and the circulator -- though it pains you to give up the weak, artificial breeze.

It’s only gotten hotter, and your already filthy clothes are starting to became unbearable. You had gotten splashed with gore and grime and who knows what in your escape, and it wasn’t pairing well with the heat onboard.

Stripping out of your clothes, you sprawl naked on the metal floor. It’s dusty, but slightly cool, and you plaster as much of your skin to the durasteel as you can manage.

Time passes with you systematically rolling across the floor of the hold to try and keep from baking. It’s bearable only because you know there will be an end. As long as the ship keeps chugging along towards the space outpost, then you will be saved.

The hatch to the cockpit opens, and you leap to your feet. Mando clambers down, jumping when he sees you.

“You’re naked,” he raises his hands -- his bare hands -- and backs against the ladder.

“You’re naked.” you point.

“I have a helmet and pants on,” he says. But that’s all he has on. His chest and arms are bare, and it’s more skin than you’ve ever seen before on the man.

“I’ve never seen you out of your armor. That has got to be more scandalous than me being naked.”

You must have made a point, because Mando doesn’t respond. Instead, you both just kind of… stand there. You can’t tear your eyes away from his chest and from the angle his helmet is pointed it seems he’s having a similar issue.

“Did you, uh, need anything?” you finally manage to ask. Your mouth is dry, and you take another uncoordinated drink from the canteen, shivering as some of the water spills down your chest.

Mando coughs. “I just wanted to make sure the kid is okay.”

“Oh,” you turn to open the fresher door just a crack. You had checked on him just a few minutes ago, and he still seems fine. After a moment of pause, Mando comes up behind you and you can feel the heat of his skin against your back.

Grogu is asleep, curled up just in front of the circulator and the basin of water so that the cool air blows over him. The fresher is several degrees cooler than the rest of the ship, and while it feels amazing, you don’t want to let the heat in.

“I’m going to go back up now,” Mando says quickly, and then he’s gone through the hatch once again.

You resume your circuit of laying on the floor, but it feels like the ship is only getting hotter.

That’s when you take to banging on the hatch to the cockpit. “Mando, I’m going to kick your ass! You had better get us to that outpost or find a way too cool this ship down! I spent years on Tatooine, and this is the hottest I have ever been in my entire life!”

“I can cut the engines to stop generating any heat, but then we’ll just be coasting through empty space and we’ll never make it to the outpost.”

You huff. “At this point you should just freeze me in carbonite.”

Mando does not freeze you in carbonite, but you do eventually make it to the New Republic outpost. They give the three of you a small dorm and Mando arranges for the Razor Crest to be repaired. You don’t have any credits between you, so you wonder what he offers in exchange.

You toss your gear into the room and head out to get food for everyone. You always enjoy being in New Republic space. No one is out to murder you or imprison you. The officers are usually nicer. Everyone likes the Skywalkers.

A friendly droid loads you up with several plates of food, and you stop to check out the holonet broadcasts on your way back. Things in this corner of the galaxy are a little hectic -- something you just witnessed firsthand -- but its less gloomy than it used to be.

Mando is sitting on the lower bunk when you get back. He’s back in his full armor, but you can read his posture pretty well. Grogu is playing in the corner, levitating some rocks you had found for him a few planets back. You set the tray down, fully intending to take your portion and eat out in the hall or in one of the communal sitting rooms. Before you can even turn away, Mando has already grabbed a plate of food and tugged his helmet off.

“WOAH,” you raise your hands in front of your face, ducking your head before you can see too much. Curly hair. Tan skin. Moustache. If there is one thing you’ve learned, it’s that Mando doesn’t let anyone see him without his helmet. It’s a cultural thing, and you respect that. “What is with you being naked today?”

Your eyes are open, but very pointedly looking at a wall nowhere near him. He shifts for a moment, and you wait for some kind of explanation.

“Look,” he finally begins, “we’ve been through a lot together at this point. I’ve traveled with you longer than anyone since I was a foundling with the watch. You’ve saved my life as well as Grogu’s many times, and we just survived one hell of a fight. Not to mention, I saw, um, all of you today. I figure it’s only fair.”

You’re touched. It’s an honor that Mando trusts you enough to remove his helmet. For as long as you have been travelling together, you’ve assumed that you care for him far more than he cares for you. “You don’t have to,” you say. “I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“I trust you,” he repeats.

You turn to face him. His eyes are so soft. Tired and kind and the warmest brown. He stares at you, taking you in for the first time with his own eyes and not the visor in his helmet. It’s unreasonably intimate considering he was staring at you naked with the helmet on just 16 hours before.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of cute?” you laugh and look away, smoothing your hands over your pants. There’s food in front of you, and you use that as a welcome distraction.

“I’ve never trusted anyone enough before now to see me.”

How can he just say things like that? You try to drown the rapid beating of your heart behind some kind of bitter vegetable.

Mando begins to eat as well, slowly and unsurely. He picks at a few different dishes before finally speaking again. “You’ve, uh- I mean… you’re beautiful as well.”

You laugh loudly at that. It’s so shy. This man had seen you overheated and completely naked lying on the floor of his ship. You roll your eyes and shoot him a wink. “Something you like in particular?”

Mando chokes, coughing for a minute before chugging down half a glass of green jelly juice. He finally regains his composure, but his voice is rough when he speaks again. “I’d say the best view was from behind.”

It’s the last thing you expect from him. He’s so shy and reserved and has always backed down from your defensive teasing. It’s a moment before you can pull yourself together. Still, you aren’t sure what to say. Instead, you cram some shredded raw crustacean in your mouth and hope you aren’t too flushed.

Mando offers to take the trays back. The dorm bathroom has a shower with running water and you intend to take full advantage. Grogu rolls a rock at your feet as you head into the bathroom, and you lightly kick it back to him. “Are you tired of putting up with us yet? You’ve been a baby longer than I’ve been alive. I bet we seem like idiots to you.”

Grogu, predictably, says nothing. He makes a raspberry noise with his lips and plops down into a sit.

The shower is one of the greatest gifts you’ve ever enjoyed in life. Hot water, high pressure, steam and soap. You take your time washing up and letting the jets work out all of the kinks in your muscles.

When you slide the stall door aside, Mando is standing at the sink. Helmetless. Shirtless.

He jumps slightly, staring at the floor as you step out of the shower. 

“We have got to stop doing this naked thing,” you say. It doesn’t actually bother you. You like that Mando trusts you, and you’ve never been shy about being naked around others, but he’s too attractive and it drives you nuts.

“I rather enjoy it,” he manages to pull his gaze from the floor to shoot you a wink. Your pulse speeds up.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Mando,” you step forward. You’re still steaming from the shower and dripping wet. He’s never been this cheeky before, and you kind of enjoy it.

His gaze darkens, eyebrows rasing. He reaches out to grab your waist, pulling you in and pinning you against the sink. You gasp at the feeling of his skin on yours, leaning back as he crowds you against the basin.

“Grogu is napping,” he whispers.

“I think the shower will fit both of us,” you breathe.

He’s already working at the buckle of his pants, toeing out of his boots. You drag him back into the shower with you. The jets hit his back, and he melts a little. You wrap your hand around his cock, and he looks like he may collapse. His eyes flutter shut, one of his hands slamming against the wall by your head.

You lean in to brush your lips over his skin as you stroke his cock. You’d never even seen this man’s face before today, and now you’re kissing your way over his jaw and down his neck. His other hand grabs your ass, kneading the flesh and pulling you closer so your hips brush his.

Your thumb swipes over the tip of his cock, and he shudders. It happens so fast, you didn’t know he had spun you around until your cheek is against the shower wall. His hands are glue to your hips, digging into your ass and pulling you to him so he can grind his cock against your slick skin.

“Please,” you whine. You haven’t had sex with anyone since you began travelling with Mando, and opportunities to get yourself off come few and far between with three of you on the Crest. You’re desperately horny, and you’ve wanted to fuck this man since you found him in that godforsaken desert.

He lines himself up and drives his hips forward, sinking into you with one solid thrust. You bite your forearm to muffle your moans, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch.

“You good?” he asks, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. 

“Move,” you say, demanding but desperate.

It takes a moment to find leverage in the tiny -- smaller than you first assumed -- shower stall, but Mando begins to fuck you at a steady pace. You reach down to rub your clit, clenching around him. You’re going to finish quicker than you’re used to -- probably because you’ve been turned on since you saw Mando shirtless on the crest.

From the way Mando’s hips twitch and his rhythm falters, you guess that he’s close to coming as well.

His hands are everywhere. Your hips, your ass, trailing over your stomach and and reaching up to squeeze your breasts. His fingers brush your throat and you nearly come from the touch alone. He feels the way you tighten around his cock and places a hand on your neck, squeezing your jaw between his thumb and forefinger.

You come so hard your knees give out and your vision goes white. Mando keeps you from collapsing in a bruised heap on the shower floor by simply continuing to fuck you until he comes as well.

It’s not a lot of space, so you’re slumped together under the spray of the water. You manage to wipe yourself clean in a few swipes and stagger back out so Mando can actually wash up. He’s much quicker than you were, and he’s out of the shower by the time you’ve finished rubbing scented moisturizer over your skin. The New Republic sure knew how to treat their guests.

“I think we should definitely keep doing the naked thing,” he grins.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Swipe Right

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Bucky has been your neighbor for a few months now, so he likes to think you two are friends. Which is why he thinks you're the best person to go to to help him get back into the dating scene.

AN: inspired by one line of dialogue from the first ep of Falcon and the Winter Soldier. lol also, FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER EP 1 SPOILERS!

Bucky felt lost. Well, he's always felt lost ever since he suddenly came back along with have of the world's population. He was pardoned by the government and now a civilian. He was going through therapy to deal with his 70+ years worth of trauma and trying to navigate his way through the modern world. Everything was new and exciting but also overwhelming and exhausting.

His therapist encouraged him to date and make friends. So that's what he did, or at least, tried to do.

He considers you a friend. You live in the apartment right beside him, gave him a friendly smile and helping hand when he first moved in. You two chatted when you'd run into each other in the hall or in the laundry room. You were nice, attractive, funny. He honestly thought about asking you out a few times, but you were his friend, his only friend it seems. So he couldn't ruin that. Therefore, he resorted to online dating.

He signed up to a bunch of dating websites and apps: eharmony, match.com, plentyoffish, tinder-SO MANY. Why are there so many dating apps?!

He's scrolling through his phone, so overwhelmed by the different pictures and information. What does DTF mean???

He scowls, tossing his phone onto a pile of dry laundry he should be folding. You enter the laundry room with a chuckle, "Everything alright?"

He glances over his shoulder and sees you. He immediately smiles and faces you, "Hey, um, yeah," he gestures to his phone, "Just, um..." he lets out a sigh and asks, "Do you know anything about dating?"

You look at him curiously and reply, "A little. Why? What's up?"

"I'm just," he nervously scratches his head and places his hands on his hips, "I'm trying this online dating thing and it's...a lot."

You can't help but snort, "I feel ya," you give him a reassuring smile despite your heart dropping to your stomach, "So, uh, what sites or apps are you on?"

"Um...all of them?"

You snort again, "No way. Let me see your phone." you hold out your open palm to him and he places his phone into your hands after unlocking it. You swipe through his apps and your brows shoot up to your hairline, "Well it's not all of them , but it's definitely a lot." you look up from the phone to Bucky, "Can I give some advice?"

"Please, I'll take anything you can give me," he replies desperately.

You hop onto the washing machine and hold up his phone, "Okay. These apps are usually for the older crowd. Like thirty five and up, so if you're not picky about age, feel free to keep these. Now, these apps are what the younger generations use. Tinder is usually for hook ups, one night stands and all that. Not many people take Tinder seriously. Bumble, is a level up from Tinder. You'll find people who are more serious about finding a relationship with also a mix of people looking for something casual. Hinge, I think, is a level up from Bumble. You don't see people's typical lame ass bios, but their answers to some fun questions, what kind of relationship they're looking for, if they smoke or do drugs, etc. Also, I'm not sure if you know this, but you can change the age range on all of these apps. So instead of having it from 18 to 50, you can narrow it so 25 to 35 or however you want."

You look at Bucky and see his brows are furrowed in...concentration? Confusion?

"Was that too much? Do I need to slow down?"

He shook his head, "No, no, that's not it. Um, thanks, Y/N," he shoots you a grateful grin and you smile back, "No problem, Bucky." You see the gears turning in his head and you ask a question, he might be scared to ask you, "Do you want me to help you find some potential dates?"

"Will you?" he asks in that same desperate tone from earlier.

Again, you put on a smile, despite your breaking heart, "Sure!"

You tap on Hinge, double checking on his preferences, and then going to the main page.

"Oh! Look here. She's a single mom, but she's also a nurse. On the weekends, you're most likely going to find her wine drunk and watching movies with her kids. She has pets. She'd like to have more kids some day. She sounds nice. How 'bout it, Bucky?"

"Sure. She-She sounds good."

"Cool! So you tap on the heart on whatever thing on her page. So let's like her....answer here. If you want, you can comment something, but if not, you just forward it and hope to see that she'll like you back and you can start messaging her! Also, it looks like some people already like you! So you just tap on this icon here and you can scroll through the different people who've liked something on your page and it's up to you if you want to make contact or not."

Bucky hums and plucks his phone from your hands, "Wow. This-Thanks Y/N. This really helped."

"No problem, Buck! If you ever need more help, just let me know!" you hop off the washer and proceed to start up a load of laundry. You mind running back and forth about how you should shoot your shot, but you were too afraid of ruining the friendship you and Bucky have.

______________________

Bucky: Hey

You: What's up?

Bucky: can you come over? I need more help with this online dating situation.

You: sure!

You let your phone fall to your side with a sigh, Bucky has been asking for your help with his online dating for two weeks now and while you're always happy to help him, it just sucks seeing someone get his attention that you wish you had.

You roll out of bed, not caring about how you looked and exit your apartment, knocking on Bucky's door.

He swings open to reveal him in a tight blue henley and some black jeans, "Hey!" he shoots you a grin and moves aside to let you in, "So, um, this girl, Janine. We've been messaging for a few days now and she wants to meet up. Is that too soon? And where should I take her? I've," he pauses to chuckle to himself, "I haven't dated since the forties so..."

Despite your feelings for him, you knew Bucky deserved to be happy, especially after all the shit he's gone through.

"Hm, well, what kind of vibes are you getting from her?"

"Vibes?"

"Yeah, um, what feelings do you get when you talk to her? Do you feel happy? Do you want to get to know her more?"

"Uh, yeah, I suppose so. I think it'd be nice to meet her in person and get to know her more face to face."

"Then yeah, take her out. But since it's your first time meeting her in person, it should be something casual. Low key, no pressure. A decent restaurant or a bar is probably best."

Bucky nods, "Yeah. Okay. Um, do you think you could help me pick something out?"

You can't help but laugh, "Bucky, I'm sure whatever you choose to wear, you'll be fine."

"Okay. Thanks, Y/N," he slowly wraps his arms around you for a hug, but not too tight in case you're uncomfortable. You surprise him by hugging him back, giving him a little squeeze, "You're welcome, Bucky."

It was Saturday and you didn't have work. You friends asked you to hangout with them, but you didn't want to. You wanted to stay holed up in your apartment, wallowing because Bucky would be going on his date with Janine tonight.

You're mindlessly watching tv , curled up on the couch. You turn your face into the pillow and scream in frustration. You should've just asked him out when you had the chance, but now that chance is gone.

You groan as you roll off the couch and head to your balcony. You just need some fresh air. You push up your window and climb onto the metal balcony. You sit on the outdoor chair you have there and stare up into the night sky. The stars are twinkling, the moon is shining. It looks like a perfect night for a date and here you are, alone.

"Hey-"

"AAAHHH!" you scream by the sudden appearance of Bucky on his own balcony. You're staring at him wide eyed, hand on your chest.

Bucky couldn't help but laugh at your expression, "Sorry."

You shake your head and stand to meet him, "It's fine. What're you doing here? I thought you were on your date."

"Yeah, uh, turns out Janine didn't, what phrase did you use once, pass the vibe check?"

You snort, covering your mouth as you giggled. Bucky's smile grows at the sound and you pull yourself together, "Um, yeah that's it. But I'm sorry."

He shrugs, leaning against the railing, "Honestly, it's okay. I don't think the online dating thing is really for me. I think I'll probably stick to the old fashion way: meeting in person and asking them out on a date."

"That's understandable," you say with a nod.

"So how 'bout it?"

You look at him confused, "How 'bout what?"

"Do you wanna go on a date sometime?" you give a look of surprise and Bucky immediately adds, "But I totally understand if you don't want to. I just-you're nice, and beautiful, and funny I thought maybe-but we're friends so I totally understand if you don't-"

"No, no. Bucky, I just-I'd love to go on a date with you."

"Yeah?" You nod and he holds out his hand, "Come on then."

You give a nervous chuckle, "What?"

"I picked up a pizza after that disastrous date. We can eat and watch a movie. Casual and no pressure, right?"

You look from his striking blue eyes to his outstretched glove hand. You reach out to place your hand in his but then pull back, "Wait. I should probably change."

You step back to head back into your apartment, but Bucky grabs your hand, "You don't have to. You look great."

You chuckle and begin to climb from your railing to Bucky's, with his help, "Alright, Prince Charming. I expect to be wooed tonight."

"Of course you do, which is why I ordered pizza from your favorite place and I'm letting you pick the movie we watch."

"Bucky Barnes, I could kiss you!" you exclaim thoughtlessly but then you realized what you just said. You shook your head and began to ramble off excuses, "No no! I mean not now! Now that I don't want to kiss you. You're very kissable. Not that I imagine kissing you or anything it's just-"

Bucky leans in and gives you a little peck on the cheek, "I don't kiss until after the date's over, doll. So will that suffice for now?"

You could feel your cheeks heating up as you nodded and squeaked out, "Yup!"

He chuckled, taking your hand in his again and leading you to the couch where the pizza was waiting for you.

[harrysddtittys]

Could you maybe write something where Harry is a single father to maybe a girl. And just write how he’d deal with her terrible twos. Like from morning to night or something like that? 🥺

wow i finally got a requestttt!!! here you go! I know nothing about young children, so i don’t even know if this is an accurate description of a 2 y/o lol. but i hope you like it <33

Warnings: fluffff, dadrry, most likely some typos :)

Masterlist ❣︎ Requests

Piece of work

“Oh my God, Lani.” Harry groaned, groggily, as he was pulled out of his sleep by his daughter sitting on his back and yelling “Daddy, wake up!” in an playful voice. As much as he tries to pretend to not to like being woken up so obnoxiously every morning, they both know he loves for the first thing he hears every day to be his little girl yelling in his ear.

He lays there for a couple more minutes, wanting to sleep for a little bit longer, but gives up when he realizes she’s not going to be quiet until he gets up. “Okay, okay. I’m awake. Calm down.”

When he says that, she immediately gets off his back so that he can sit up, sitting next to him. He looks over at her. She’s wearing a random shirt of her’s that she doesn’t really wear other than to sleep, and her pull-up that she wears to prevent wetting the bed at night, and she has a head full of curly, unruly hair. He just smiles, so in awe of the fact he helped create something so beautiful.

Fatherhood was by far the best thing that ever happened to Harry. The second he looked his little girl, Alani in the eyes, he instantly felt the connection. He loves her with his entire being. But she can definitely be a lot to handle

She turned two not even three months ago. Harry Honestly thought the “terrible two’s” stage was a myth. Boy, was he wrong. The tantrums hit like lightning. Not only is she in her terrible two’s, but she’s naturally very stubborn, and sassy. She definitely got that from him. He swears she’s a 13 year old in a 2 year olds body.

“G’morning, bug.” He says, sitting up slowly because of the stiff joints from not moving much all night. “Good morning, daddy!” She squeals excitedly. Once he’s fully sat up, Alani jumps on him, throwing her tiny arms around him, causing Harry to chuckle. She gets so excited when he wakes up for the day.

He wraps his arms around her and squeeze her lightly, but grunting as if he’s squeezing her as tight as he can, making her giggle. “Did you sleep good?” He questions, quietly. “Yeah.” She mumbles, feeling so content where she is, like in her dad’s arms is the best place in the world. “V’got some things to do today. Y’wanna go run some errands with daddy?” This causes her to pull away from him with with wide eyes, nodding eagerly. The biggest smile spreads across Harry’s features. “Yeah?” Which she responds to by nodding again.

“Then we gotta get ready, bub. Y’hungry?” He asks to which she responds with a simple “Yes.” “Alright let’s go eat.” When he says that, Alani gets down off the bed, before sprinting out of his room, and toward the kitchen full speed. “Stop running!” He slightly scolds, hearing her tiny feet padding down the hallway at a much slower speed than before.

He always gets so nervous when she’s running around, but especially when she’s running in the house. She’s so wild and crazy, yet so clumsy. Constantly falling, and running into things. She rarely actually gets hurt. Most of the time she moves on from it like nothing happened. But it scares the absolute shit out of Harry every time.

When he enters the kitchen, he sees Alani standing next to the counter. As soon as he’s in her line of vision she starts pointing to the box of cinnamon toast crunch. “Daddy, this?” with pleading eyes. Harry just laughs. He doesn’t let her eat those than often for breakfast, because of how sweet they are, choosing to fix something on the healthier side for them to eat instead. But today he figured it wouldn’t hurt to let her have a little bowl of it before the day starts.

He goes over to the little girl who is still aggressively pointing at the box of cereal, ending down to pick her up. “Alright, alright. Hold you’re horses, will you?” He coos softly. He gently sits her down on at the kitchen table before returning back over to the counter. He opens the cabinet, pulling out a small bowl. When he’s finished making her cereal, he grabs her one of her baby spoons before serving it to her. “Thank you!” she says loudly. “You’re welcome, princess.” he chuckles.

Harry doesn’t like cinnamon toast crunch, it’s way to sweet for him. He decides he’ll just pop a bagel in the toaster and call it a day.

* * *

Once they’ve finished breakfast, they got completely ready for the day, and we’re soon ready to head out. Harry turns around to look at his daughter. She’s dressed in a denim dress, with a white t-shirt underneath, and white tennis shoes. Her hair’s brushed up into two sleek pigtails, which he’d become a pro at over the past couple years. Harry decided on a white t-shirt with a gray pair of pants. “Y’ready t’go, love?” he asked, feeling around his pockets to make sure he had everything. “Mhm!”

once they’re out to the car, Harry straps Alani into her car seat in the back, peppering kisses all over her tiny face once she’s all buckled in. “Daddy!” She squeals. Giggling, he closes the door, and goes around to the drivers side, getting in and powering the car on. “Alright, let’s roll.” he sighs, turning around to back out of the driveway.

They needed to stop at the grocery store, just to stock up on some things they needed around the house. So that’s where they were headed to now.

“Daddy, look! Red!” Alani exclaimed, pointing at the red car that was next to them. “Yes, that is red, baby, good job!” Harry beams. “Y’so smart.”

They continue driving toward their local grocery. Harry looks into his rear view mirror to check in Alani, and catches her staring at him. She’s always staring at him. It seems to be her favorite thing to do. He pulls the silliest face he could think of, causing her to burst into laughter. Harry laughs right along with her. Her laugh is so contagious. “Do it again!” She giggles. Harry happily obliges, pulling the goofy face once more, causing her angelic little laugh to engulf his ears.

After a little while of driving, they finally reached their destination, pulling into the grocery store parking lot. Alani watches her dad get out of the car, patiently waiting for him to make his way around to her side to get her out of the car. Soon enough, he does, taking her out of her cars seat and carrying her on his hip as the go into the store.

* * *

“Daddy, Daddy! Can I have that?” Alani asks loudly, pointing to something. “Shhh, you have to use your inside voice, darling.” Harry reminds her gently. He looks over to where she was pointing and not to his surprise, he sees a doll on the shelf. He’s grown to hate telling her no, but they didn’t come for toys, and she has more than enough at home already. “No, my love. Not today.” Her face immediately dropped. “But… but please?” She whines, her lip quivering. Harry hates that she’s disappointed but he knows he can’t give in. “No, baby. You don’t have to cry. Just not today, okay?” he says gently.

That doesn’t help, considering her whimpers are quickly turning into loud wails, and he knows the meltdown is coming. “Lani, it’s okay. You have plenty of toys at home to play with.” he try’s to reason but it doesn’t stop the tears that are slowly rolling down her face, and the loud, attention drawing cries. People were starting to look, and Harry was starting to get frustrated, but she was only 2. He knew she was still learning how to deal with her emotions. But when your kid is having a complete meltdown, and screaming in the middle of a store over a doll, that’s definitely a bit annoying.

Harry leans down to be face to face with her in her, who’s seated in the cart. “Alani, I know you’re upset, but you’re not going to scream.” He says softly, but slightly sternly. She looks at her dad, still crying but visibly calming down. Harry waits for her whines to die down completely before asking her “Are we okay now? Can we keep shopping?” to which she responds to with a nod.

After picking up just a few more essentials, they’re in line, waiting to check out. Harry looks down at Alani, realizing she’s been pretty silent ever since she stopped crying. He sees her with the all too familiar scowl on her face, with a pout of her lips. “Why are you looking so evil, bub?” Harry asked, with a gentle shake of his head. She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t need to because he already knows she’s mad at him for refusing to buy her a doll.

He just rolls his eyes and try’s not to laugh. She really is something else. But he knows that she’s genuinely mad at him and him not taking her seriously will set her off again.

Eventually, they make their way up to the front of the line to check out, and soon enough their heading back out to the car. Harry looks at her, as he’s loading all the groceries into the trunk of his car to see that she still has the same mean look on her face. “Y’gonna stay mad at daddy all day, huh?” He teases her solely for his own enjoyment, knowing she’s much to busy trying to have an attitude to laugh at anything he says. She nods silently, still refusing to speak to him. Harry can’t help but laugh at that, knowing that wasn’t true in the slightest. “Y’have to learn t’take ‘no’ for an answer, baby love.” He sighs.

When they’re in the car in the way home, Harry looks at her in the mirror, pulling some silly faces like he was doing earlier. She sees him, and while she was still trying to hold her angry face, he can see the smile tugging at her lips. He doesn’t stop until her scowl is completely replaced by a smile, her beautiful laugh ringing through his ears, making his heart flutter with joy.

“Ahhh, I thought you were mad!” Harry laughs, causing her to laugh along with him, knowing she failed her attempt at holding a grudge on him. “Are we gonna be friends again?” Harry asks jokingly. “Yeah, we’re friends again!” Alani states matter of factly, causing Harry to chuckle.

This child really was a little piece of work, but he loves her nonetheless.

“Good.”

[buckleyblueyes]

ahh that's amazing! thank you in advance. I got this idea into my head: what if there is this one time they're all on a call, and maybe it's something that hits a little too close to home for Buck, maybe it's playing on his fears and insecurities, but the moment Buck sees what they're dealing with he gets SCARED, and freezes, and subconsciously grabs Eddie's hand, because Eddie makes him feel safe. He is his best friend (who he's in love with, ofc) after all. Eddie is well. Surprised. Very much.

Anon! Thank you so much for your patience with this one! I know it's been ages since you sent it in. I hope it's worth the wait and that I did justice to your prompt! (CW: drowning)

Eddie feels Buck tense up beside him as soon as Bobby tells them where they're going: Splash Zone Water Park. They have calls to pools fairly often, and Buck always gets a little bit tense going into it, no matter how long it’s been since the tsunami. Eddie presses his knee against Buck’s in the truck, offering a silent comfort to his friend. Buck seems to push down his fears by the time they pull up to the scene, forcing himself to shift into Firefighter Buckley mode as they make their way through the park. Eddie lets himself be relieved, until they arrive in front of the wave pool.

Of course it’s the goddamn wave pool. Even worse, there’s a nine year old boy laid out on the stone patio next to the pool, dripping wet, brown hair plastered to his forehead. He’s unconscious, bleeding from the side of his head, and his chest isn't rising and falling like it should be. Buck freezes immediately at the sight, reaching out for Eddie with his right hand, and wrapping his fingers around Eddie’s left wrist. It takes Eddie a moment to realize that Buck is feeling for his pulse, grounding himself.

Eddie does his best to steady his breathing and heart rate once he realizes what Buck is doing. The sight in front of them is upsetting to him, of course it is, but he knows it’s worse for Buck. He’s not the one who walked around for hours not knowing if Christopher was dead or alive. He’s not the one who almost died himself (at least, not that day.) “It’s okay,” he murmurs quietly, so only Buck can hear. “I’m here, I’m alive. That’s not Christopher.” It’s purely a medical call at this point, so he makes no attempt to move away from Buck as Hen and Chimney begin administering CPR to the boy. His mother is crying, wailing, begging them to save him. His lips are turning blue. Buck’s grip on Eddie’s wrist is like a vice.

“We got a pulse!” Hen finally calls out.

Buck’s grip doesn’t loosen, but Eddie does hear him let out of a heavy breath. He twists his hand out of Buck’s grip just enough that he can slide his arm up, so Buck is no longer holding his wrist, but is holding his hand. He gives Buck’s hand a firm squeeze and finally hazards a glance up at the man in question. Buck is staring at their intertwined hands now, confused. At least, Eddie decides, he’s distracted from the drowning boy. He runs his thumb along the back of Buck’s hand, in what he hopes is a comforting gesture.

He knows they’re crossing some kind of line here, that hand holding in the middle of an emergency scene (even one where their presence turned out not to be strictly necessary) is not something that he’ll be able to brush off as strictly platonic. It doesn’t scare him like it used to, though. Maybe it’s because he watched Buck date Taylor, so he knows how much worse it would be to not have Buck, or maybe it’s all the therapy he’s been in since the shooting. Either way, Eddie’s not afraid anymore. He and Buck have been on the edge of something--or maybe everything--for months, so if holding Buck’s hand will help ground him, keep his mind from thrusting him back in time, then it’s a risk Eddie is willing to take.

Hen and Chimney are loading the boy into the ambulance--he is breathing again, still unconscious and probably severely concussed, but alive--when Bobby finally makes his way over to them. He takes in the haunted look in Buck’s eyes, and the fact that their hands are still tightly clasped together, and frowns.

“You boys alright?” He asks, but he’s looking at Buck.

Buck nods slowly. “I--Yeah. Just...Brought up some bad memories.”

“This was a rough one,” Bobby agrees. “I’m gonna take us off rotation for a while when we get back to the station.”

“Thanks, Cap,” Eddie says. Buck doesn’t say anything.

Bobby smiles in that warm, fatherly way of his, looking between them. “Take care of each other.”

As if there’s any universe where they wouldn’t.

Eddie doesn’t let go of Buck’s hand until they get back to the station, and only because he needs two hands to cook.

“I’m not hungry,” Buck says, still hovering in Eddie’s space.

“You were about to eat before the call came in,” Eddie insists gently. “You need to eat.”

“And you’re gonna cook for me?” Buck shakes his head. “I think I’ll take my chances with starvation.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, pulling out a griddle and a clean spatula. “I think I can handle grilled cheese, Buck.”

Buck’s mouth opens and closes in surprise. “Grilled cheese?”

“Maddie may have mentioned making it for you a lot growing up.” Eddie flushes slightly at having to admit he’s talked to Maddie about Buck. “I thought it would be comforting.”

Buck stares at him, eyes wide and mouth turning up into a tentative smile. “Yeah, it is.”

“Good,” Eddie smiles back. “Now, go sit down.”

Eddie bustles about the kitchen, pulling out the good buttermilk bread that Chimney always buys instead of the whole wheat bread that Bobby puts on the list, the pre-sliced cheddar cheese, and the butter. “After we eat, how about we video call Christopher?” It’s late in the afternoon, he’ll be home from school by now.

Buck lets out a long exhale. “Yes, please.”

Eddie flips the bread slices on the griddle and places the cheese slices on the toasted side. “Great.”

“I--” Buck starts. “I didn’t know how to ask.”

Eddie looks up from the sandwiches. “How to ask for what?”

“To talk to Christopher,” Buck draws patterns on the tabletop with his index finger. “I know I’m not--He’s not mine.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything at first, just plates up the sandwiches, brings them over to the table, and sits down next to Buck, who takes a small, tentative bite.

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“What?”

“You said Christopher isn’t yours,” Eddie picks up his sandwich, but doesn’t bite into it. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Buck is staring at him again, confused.

“Look, I don’t know what we are anymore, Buck,” Eddie admits. “Things are different between us now, and I don’t know what I’m doing, but I know that you love Christopher, and that he loves you just as much. If that doesn’t give you a right to call him, to reassure yourself that he’s okay, then I don’t know what does.”

“I…” Buck’s eyes fill with tears.

"It's okay, Buck." Eddie reaches over to wipe Buck's tears with his thumb. “Just eat your grilled cheese."

Buck does as he’s told, making it halfway through the sandwich in three bites. “You know, there’s no law that says we have to wait until we finish eating to call Christopher.”

Eddie raises a skeptical eyebrow, looking up from his own half-eaten lunch. “Will you actually finish eating if we call now?”

“Absolutely.” Buck takes a big bite to prove his point. “See?” He says, through a mouthful of food. Something so childish shouldn’t be so endearing, and yet, somehow it is.

Helpless, Eddie pulls out his phone. Carla answers on the second ring. “You better have a good reason for interrupting math homework.”

“I do.” Eddie assures her. “Can you put Chris on?”

Carla gives him a look, but does as he asks. Christopher is grinning--probably excited to have his math homework interrupted “Hi, Dad!”

“Hey, kid.” Eddie can’t help but return his son’s smile. “How’s the math homework going?”

Christopher’s smile falters slightly. “Oh, it’s good.”

Somehow Eddie doesn’t totally believe that, but it’s not important now. “Listen, I’ve got somebody here who wants to say ‘hi’, is that okay?”

The boy’s smile comes back even wider than before. “Is it Buck?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, loud enough that the phone can catch it. “It’s me.”

“Hand the phone to Buck, Dad!” Christopher is bouncing with excitement. “Hand the phone to Buck!”

He does, scooching his chair closer so he can still see the screen himself, and before Buck can even greet Christopher, the kid is launching into a monologue.

“Buck! Dr. Lassiter assigned us a big, semester-long project for science class, can you pleeeaaase help me with it? I want to build a model of the solar system, but it has to be totally accurate.”

The tension Buck's body has been holding onto since the phrase “water park” fell from Bobby’s lips is finally starting to fade.

“Absolutely. Do we want it to move?”

Christopher’s eyes widen on screen. “Yes!”

Buck laughs. “Well then, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

Eddie smiles softly, as Buck and Christopher begin planning their project. He knows he must look like a lovesick fool, but to be fair, that’s what he is. He rests one hand over the crook of Buck’s elbow, and doesn’t miss the pink that appears across his cheeks.

“Alright, you three,” that’s Carla’s voice, “Somebody still has math homework to finish, and I’m sure you boys will have to get back to work soon.”

Eddie sighs. Carla is right, unfortunately. But Buck looks lighter than he has all day. “We better do what Carla says.”

“Will you come over after work?” Christopher asks. They won't get off until after Christopher will already be at school, so Buck will probably go to his loft after work. But Eddie doesn’t doubt now that Christopher has asked, Buck will manage to make it over to their house by the time Christopher is home from school. He wonders if it's too soon to ask Buck to sleep in his bed, instead of going to his loft at all. It's yet another line to cross, but at this point Eddie's lost track of all the lines they've crossed.

“You bet,” is Buck’s answer. “Now get back to your math!”

“Okay, dad,” Christopher says, rolling his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm. It’s meant to be a joke at Buck’s expense, but Eddie can see the breath catching in Buck’s throat all the same, so he pulls the phone from his hand and takes over.

“Good-bye, Christopher! We love you!”

“Bye Dad! Bye Buck! I love you guys, too.”

Buck finds his voice again. “Bye Superman!”

“So,” Eddie says, putting the phone down. “Do you feel better now?”

“Eddie…” Buck hesitates, dropping his hand down so it rests over Eddie’s. His skin is warm and rough and unlike earlier Eddie can actually enjoy the feeling. “Thank you.” He’s thanking Eddie for more than just the grilled cheese and the phone call, and Eddie knows it.

His answer is simple. He turns his hand over, and interlocks their fingers. “Always, Buck.”