#and he makes some kind of hand gesture while talking lol

[userlando]

lending a hand — lando norris

lando norris x fem!reader [5.5k] summary: exams are coming up and studying for it turns out to be more tedious than usual. luckily, lando is around & more than eager to lend a helping hand. warnings: 18+ fingering, dirty talk, protected sex (piv), brief oral, doggy, missionary, dom!lando, derogatory name calling, choking, slapping (lando smacks a tit and ass lol), everything is absolutely consensual a/n: HI EVERYONE!! i know it's been agesss since i came on here and i'm still kind of on a hiatus because i just haven't been feeling tumblr lately. i wrote this piece a while back for another cc but they've since then showed themselves to be a bad person and i don't wanna be associated with that. so i rewrote and added some things because i really like this one. so hopefully you do too :') i love u and miss u all so much, i'll hopefully jump back on when i've got my mojo back!! read before interacting: I suck at biology and googled every single medical term and everything it’s got to do with it. i’m so sorry if i wrote something incorrectly, please don’t come for me. thank you x

The air was stifling hot and damp, your fingers were cramping up and the words on your textbooks were starting to blur into one big mess the longer you stared at them. There were so many books laid out in front of you, pictures of cartooned organs and human anatomy that on any other day, would be of massive help. But right now they just made your head hurt even more.

When your fingers cramped up for the fourth time, you let go of your pencil and watched it land softly on the sheets in front of you. You were in serious need of a massage, tension rippling in your body that would only perish once your final exams were over and done with. It wasn’t long until you took them, two weeks to be exact but the stress was weighing heavier on you than you’d like to admit.

The only thing pushing you forward was the fact that you’d be one step closer to graduating and the promised deep massage in Monaco’s finest spa.

Your boyfriend had been the true pillar in your life. Lando been so patient and tried to help in any way he could when you’d seek comfort in his arms and awkwardly stumbled words. Poor thing didn’t know how to make your stress go away when you were at your worst, but he certainly tried his best and that was all that mattered. Lando felt helpless at those times, but he found himself relaxing when he held you and could feel the tension in your shoulders lessen.

You’d been neglecting him for over a week now, but he was nothing if not understanding and he took advantage of that time to spend more in front of his computer with his friends or even the racing sim, while you holed up in your shared bedroom.

It had made you feel a little guilty at first, seeing as it was his season break and he’d intended to spend his free time with you but your schedules didn’t align enough. There were only so many hours you could spend procrastinating before the stress got to be too much.

You’d first opted to sit next to him while he played and streamed but you’d found him too big of a distraction so it hadn’t been long before you migrated to your bedroom. Hearing him from down the hall was comfort enough.

It was as if your thoughts had summoned him, the creak of the door pulling your attention to it and you blinked away the blur in your eyes to watch his upper body and head peak through the space. The curls on his head were wild, unrulier than usual and you’d have taken a step back to admire them if you had the strength to.

“You alright?” He asked tentatively, and you nodded with a wave of your hand; Gesturing for him to come in because suddenly you were in need of his comforting hug.

He’d gone quiet in his office a while ago and you figured he’d gone offline, not hearing a peep from him. Or maybe you’d had, and just didn’t notice.

“You need a break.” Lando murmured as he stepped inside, coming to stand by the bed.

You blinked up at him and realised the blur in your eyes were from unshed tears of exhaustion. It seemed as if Lando realised it at the same time you did, letting out a surprised soft laugh as he pouted his bottom lip in sympathy.

“Darling.” He reached out both of his hands to cradle your face, thumbs reaching out to swipe beneath your eyes. “This isn’t healthy.”

“I’m not crying, I swear.” You placed your hands over his, letting out a watery laugh at the worry in his eyes. “I’m just tired. These words aren’t making sense anymore.”

Lando made a sound in his throat, turning to plop down on the bed. You tried to keep the scowl from showing on your face when he moved around the meticulously arranged papers on the sheets, but he saw it and grimaced in something you guessed were apologetic.

“How about we go out and get something to eat?” Your boyfriend suggested, laying down on his side and propping his head up with the help of his hand.

“I’m not hungry.” That was a lie.

You’d been cooped up in your room for over - you glanced at the clock and winced - three hours, and the last time you’d ate was a bowl of yogurt and granola. It wasn’t healthy, and you always made a point of eating before your insides started twisting with hunger, but it was easy to get carried away while revising.

“Don’t pull that shit on me.” Lando’s eyes rolled, reaching a hand out to nudge you in the side to garner a reaction out of you. You jumped with a startled giggle, swatting at his hand. “Just an hour and then we’ll be back, I promise.”

You shook your head, no matter how tempting that offer was. You knew yourself well enough to know that you’d go out to eat, come back and then push studying aside to cuddle in bed with him. And seeing as the both of you hadn’t gone further than kissing for the past week, Lando would definitely not protest if you procrastinated in order to spend some quality time with him.

“Lan, I love you but I really cannot abandon this until I’m done.” You gestured to the mountain of stress in front of you.

Lando followed the gesture with his eyes, stretching a hand out to pluck a notebook with your scribble on it. You watched him scan it, a furrow making its way between his bushy eyebrows and it made you smile involuntarily. He looked absolutely adorable and so very confused.

“Medical terminology…” He read before trailing off with a sound of aversion. “So… What? You need to memorise these words?”

It would be a lie if you said that you hadn’t been a little distracted while he skimmed over the pages as if he understood what the words such as Popliteal and Supraclavicular meant. You were too busy looking at the arch of his nose and the tempting pout of his lips, admiring the slight redness covering the apples of his cheeks.

His eyes flicked up and you blinked back to reality, ignoring the teasing smile playing on his lips as you answered his previous question with a forlorn nod. You watched him light up slightly as an idea struck him.

“What?”

“What if I help you out?” He asked, sitting up slightly.

You almost laughed. Help? You’d be a delicious distraction.

“How would you help me?” You asked instead, smiling as he sat up fully and waved the notebook in his hand between you two. As if that would answer your question.

“May I?” He asked and you looked at his hand hovering over the textbooks.

It took you a second to realise what he was asking and you almost shook your head no, but Lando looked too excited and you weren’t about to rain on his parade so you nodded.

He didn’t waste any time with packing everything up and placing them in a surprisingly organised pile on the floor by the bed, keeping the notebook he’d been holding close by as he scooted up the bed and laid down with his head on the pillow. You gazed at him questioningly, feeling lost.

“Wow… You sure cleared my confusion up.” You said slowly after a beat of silence.

You watched your boyfriend roll his eyes, so sassy and so Lando it made your chest hurt with adoration.

“Alright smartass. Come here.” His hand circled your wrist and the tug almost sent you flying over him. You squealed in surprise, thankfully steadying yourself before you toppled over and looked down on Lando between the curtain of hair that had fallen over your face. “Sorry.”

You slapped his chest lightly and rearranged yourself so you were straddling his thighs gently as he’d probably intended to have you do from the start. The position made unexpected arousal flare up in your abdomen and it wasn’t disappearing any time soon with the way Lando was looking up at you from his position.

“Alright, can you please tell me what’s going on?” You asked nicely and placed your hands over his where they’d snuck up and found a home on your thighs.

He freed one hand and grabbed yours, fingers slotting nicely between yours and you resisted the sudden urge to grind down on him. Something about this man made you shamelessly feral.

“Okay so, you have to memorise all this gibberish and what better way than to practice on me?” He finished his sentence by tugging softly on your hand and you bent down when you understood his silent request, slotting your lips against his.

His lips felt soft and you couldn’t help but open up to his tongue, your body automatically melting into his as his free hand found its place on the small of your back to pull you in closer.

You allowed yourself a few seconds before sitting back up in his lap, feeling slightly disoriented.

“Is this your way of getting me into bed?” You narrowed your eyes jokingly in suspicion, earning a laugh from him.

“No, I genuinely want to help. But I wouldn’t mind you in bed with me, either.” He replied, pushing his hips up to readjust his position and jostling you in the process. “Go ahead, where do you wanna start?”

You pursed your lips in thought, deciding that starting at his face and working yourself down was the best way to do it. You were, after all, already sat on his legs and had made yourself quite comfortable. With your decision made, you placed one hand on the left side of Lando’s head and got close to him.

Lando sucked his lips into his mouth, big eyes watching you in silence but his facial expression said it all. It truly had been too long since you’d had sex, but maybe there was a way of incorporating intimacy into studying. Who birds, one stone and all that.

“So, this is the frontal.” You murmured, the other hand coming up to swipe a gentle finger across his forehead before moving down to his cheekbone. “The zygomatic bone.”

Lando blinked slowly, but he stayed silent as your fingers trailed down over the slope of his nose. A giggle left your lips as he scrunched his nose, the skin moving beneath the tips of your fingers.

“The nasal,” You muttered, trailing your fingers up to gently touch his eyelids as he closed his eyes. You couldn’t help but place soft kisses over each of them, watching him flutter them open to look at you. His eyelashes were ridiculously long and seductive. You hated it. “Oculus.”

Lando shifted beneath you, tongue coming out to wet his lips and you were immediately drawn to the sheen of them. You let out a small desperate breath, closing the small distance between the two of you for a kiss. Your boyfriend made a sound in his throat and you pulled back barely an inch to whisper.

“Oral cavity.” Before diving back in for a second kiss that he was more than happy to reciprocate.

It was easy to lose yourself in his touch and the warmth of his body against yours, your hand coming up to grab his thick hair in your grip while his circled around your body to pull you flush against him.

“Lando…” You let out a small whine when he pulled back to bite on your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth in a way that had your toes curling. “Fuck me.”

Any other day and you’d probably flush at the way you sounded so whiny, but you didn’t have time to overthink it before your boyfriend gathered up what remained of his self restraint to pull back. You chased his lips and only got a nip back, making you pout down at him.

“Keep going.” He ordered and you scooted up so your nether regions were flush against each other. He hissed your name in warning, “Don’t be a brat, finish what you started.”

You huffed and opened your mouth to protest but caught yourself when you saw the expression on his face. Shit, he really wasn’t playing around.

“Fine.” You bit out, wiggling a little in place to feel the smooth hardness of Lando between your legs.

The man in question tutted and reached out to grip your throat in a hold, gentle but it was strong enough to catch you off guard and still yourself in his lap.

“What is this part called?” He asked, awfully casual for someone who was half hard with their hand wrapped around your throat.

He flexed his fingers lightly and you searched your muddled brain for the answer, fighting the urge to moan when he squeezed. It wasn’t fair, he knew what he was doing to you.

“The esophagus.” You whispered, not daring to look away from his intense gaze as he carefully unwrapped his fingers from said body part, two of his fingers tapping your chin before resting on your bottom lip.

“Open.” He commanded softly and you did, without question.

You held his eyes as he slid two fingers inside, tasting the saltiness of his skin as he stroked over your tongue. The urge to gag hit you when he slid too far down, eyes watering when he wiggled his fingers inside teasingly.

“What’s this called?” He asked, and you could see the teasing pull of the corners of his mouth when you glared down at him.

How am I supposed to respond with your fingers down my throat? Your eyes screamed, but Lando merely raised his eyebrows and pressed his fingers forward in retaliation.

You gagged, a sound of despair escaping your drooling mouth.

You tried to reply with “Pharynx” but the words came out as a jumbled mess and you drooled down his fingers. But it was apparently good enough for Lando because he pulled back slightly to let you breathe more properly, stroking the width of your tongue in a silent command. You sucked on his fingers, cleaning them off of any saliva before he retrieved them entirely.

“Good girl.” The rasp in his voice made your stomach swoop as he smiled at you, placing his hands on either side of your hips. “Go on.”

You stared at him, not entirely sure what to do but he gave you the answer when he tugged on your t-shirt; A silent urge to take it off. You didn’t waste any time, grabbing it by the hem and lifting it off your torso; Almost falling over in the process. Lando chuckled at your eagerness and your face burned, but you refused to let that affect you. The two of you looked at one another for a beat before he dropped his gaze to your heaving, exposed chest. Never had you been happier to have foregone a bra, especially when he stroked both hands up your sides. He felt your skin beneath his palms, a shiver escaping you.

“Please,” You whispered, grinding down on the hardness beneath you. Your eyes fluttered.

“Please what?” His voice sounded teasing, bright eyes trained on you.

Instead of answering him verbally, you grabbed his hands in yours and placed them over the swell of your breasts. Lando inhaled at the feel of them in his palms, letting you squeeze his hands in yours. A moan escaped your mouth as his thumbs swiped over your nipples until they pebbled, back arching into his hold.

“So needy for me.”

His rough voice had you opening your eyes and he must’ve seen something in them because he took pity on you. The yelp that left your lips was anything but attractive when he embraced you and flipped you both over. Lando laughed when you bounced on the mattress, and you couldn’t help but giggle as the tension broke.

“Please, Lando.” You pleaded after the both of you had calmed down from your little fit, hands coming up to feel the taut of his stomach over his t-shirt.

You sounded needy in your own ears but you didn’t really care. And judging by your boyfriends teeth sinking into his bottom lip, he loved hearing you like this.

“Please what, darling?” His eyebrows drew together in fake sympathy, his gaze dropping to your chest when you arched your back.

You opened your mouth to answer him but the words died on your lips the second Lando leaned down and sucked a nipple into his mouth. You should’ve seen it coming, because he could never keep away from your tits for too long but the suction made you gasp all the same, hands coming up to grab at the back of his head.

“Just fuck me already.” You said.

Lando grabbed the both of your hands in his before pinning them to the side, suckling harsher on your teat before kissing his way over to the other side. You didn’t know what to focus on, the cool air on your wet nipple, his unforgiving mouth on the other one or the way his hands were digging into the skin of your wrists. The thought of him bruising you made you buck your hips up, craving it more than ever.

“You’re impatient tonight.” He drew back, blowing cool air on your saliva soaked skin and making you squirm. “I can’t decide whether I should punish you for being a needy little slut or fuck the brattiness out of you.”

You knew you shouldn’t talk back, but the words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Anything would be better than this.” It came out as an indignant mutter but Lando’s eyes flared in challenge.

It was quick and you didn’t have time to react to his hand sailing down and slapping the meat of your breast. You yelled out in shock, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as you tried to sit up as an automatic response. Lando tutted, quickly grabbing you by the throat and pushing you down with a strength that had you gasping for breath.

“This is what happens when I don’t fuck you for a week,” He hissed, eyebrows drawn in anger but you could see the desire in his eyes as he bent down to your eye level. “One week without my cock and you start acting like a bitch.”

Holy fuck, the filth coming from his mouth made your nerves light up in anticipation. It had been too long, so fucking long since he talked and behaved like this. You hadn’t realised how much you missed it until now.

His hand let go of your throat and instead cupped your chin, his fingers squeezing your mouth together until your eyes fluttered shut in need with a moan. Lando grinned down at you, tightening his grip just to watch your eyes roll before pressing a filthy kiss to your mouth that you barely had time to reciprocate before he pulled back.

It felt like you were in a daze, feeling him pull your sweatpants off along with your panties. He made an offhand comment about the wetness that you didn’t register, choosing to grit your teeth and ball your fists to keep from touching yourself instead.

Lando undressed himself without getting off the bed, albeit a little clumsily but he recovered quick and grabbed your thighs to spread them apart. The look on his face made you flush hot all over, almost like you were a meal he couldn’t wait to devour.

“Look at that, so wet already.” He hummed in appreciation and coated one finger in your slick before sinking it inside of you, revelling in your gasps. “All this for me, baby?”

“Mmm,” You swallowed, throat drying up and eyes closing at the sensation. “Just for you, Lando.”

“That’s what I thought.” He said smugly.

He sank a second finger inside and scissored them until he deemed you stretched enough, his free hand stopping your thighs from closing when you started to feel him pull out. It had been too long since you’d been touched like this, and Lando was always so talented with his fingers. He could truly play you like a fiddle.

“Don’t.” He growled, the tone of his voice making you squirm and separate your legs obediently again. “Good girl.”

You watched him in silence as he pulled his fingers out, slipping them into his mouth to clean them off with a hum that you felt in your core. Sweat was beading on your forehead and you were sure that you looked a mess. Lando didn’t seem to mind it though, his eyes roaming appreciatively over your body before settling on your face. His eyes softened at whatever he saw in your eyes and something warm bloomed in your chest.

“Kiss me, please?” You begged, suddenly needing him near you.

Lando didn’t hesitate as he bent over to press his mouth to yours, the kiss uncharacteristically gentle consider how crudely his cock was pressing against your mound, one hand sinking into your hair to tilt your head to his liking. He broke the kiss for a moment to reach to the side, opening up the drawer with a groan and rifling through the contents. You watched in mild amusement, taking in the pinch of his eyebrows and the concentration on his face. You took the opportunity to press kisses to his shoulder and up his throat, your tongue tasting the saltiness of his sweaty skin. Lando’s unstable position faltered and you sucked a small lovebite into the delicate skin of his neck for good measure.

“Fuck.” He swore with a breathless laugh, steadying himself and sitting upright.

You smiled up at him, planting your feet on the bed and bending your legs so Lando could get even closer to where you needed him the most. His bright eyes found yours, eyebrows rising. He bit into the tinfoil, tearing it open and fishing the condom out to slip it on.

The rubber wasn’t needed, not really. But Lando knew you well enough to know when you had enough energy after the deed to clean yourself up, and today wasn’t one of those days. He would often do it himself, ignoring your embarrassing protests as he wiped you down with a cloth and eventually giving up when he swatted your hands away.

Anticipation rose in you when he positioned himself but he seemed to change his mind at the last second, a devilish smile widening on his lips when he patted the side of your hip twice. You knew what that meant and you bit your lip in uncertainty. The dreaded position you loved and hated at the same time.

“Turn around and don’t make me ask twice.” Lando said after reading the look on your face and you made a noise that sounded a lot like dislike.

But you definitely didn’t want to stall it any longer, so you turned your body around and pressed your cheek against the mattress with your eyes closed. This position hit absolutely every nerve inside of you, but it also left you completely exposed and that’s mainly why you hated it.

Lando grabbed your hips and lifted you upwards so your knees were beneath you, exhaling as he slid his hands from your ass and down your back. The feel of his palm against the skin of your back made you arch despite your initial hesitation and something about that made the man behind you feel all the more needier.

“So fucking gorgeous,” You heard him whisper and you believed it. “Can’t wait to sink into this pretty little cunt.”

Unexpected heat shot down your back and you moaned, pressing back against Lando in hopes that he’d finally get the hint and fuck you. Your hands gripped the sheets on either side of your bed in anticipation at the thought.

“Fuck me, please.” It came out as a whispered plea.

“I will, don’t worry, love.”

And with that promise, he nudged himself inside. You arched in response, eyes shutting as he started pushing inside little by little. The stretch was incredible, making your toes curl and mouth open in a silent moan. Lando let out a sound of his own as he bottomed out, one hand grabbing your hips while the other settled over the small of your back to push down gently. You arched, and he seemed to like that because he immediately drew back before thrusting back in.

He found a rhythm you assumed he liked and you matched it by pushing back when he pushed in. A wave of heat overtakes you and your eyes roll in your sockets the harder he thrusts; Like a man on a mission, eager to bury himself inside you as far as he can go.

It hadn’t occured to you just how badly you’d been neglecting Lando lately, but it was evident in how his hands grabbed anywhere he could find purchase, your name leaving his mouth in a chant as he fucked you harder. You needed this as much as he did.

“Fuck, oh my God.” You tried to pull your hand back to touch yourself but you were jostled too harshly and you ended up being thrown off balance.

A high pitched whine left your mouth as Lando slipped out and just as you were about to turn your head to look at him, he’d grasped your hips and turned you around on your back. He reached for the pillow next to your head, stuffing it under your hips and kissing just beneath your navel in the process as a silent praise for raising your hips without him having to ask.

You watched with bated breath as he pressed kisses down your stomach, over your mound before latching his mouth onto your clit. The unexpected touch of his sinful mouth had you throwing your head back, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Oh my God, Lando...” You moaned, attempting to tilt your head down so you could watch him but he was quick to flick his tongue against your clit and it only made you arch into his mouth.

Lando was holding the base of his cock, squeezing and willing himself not to blow too soon. He’d been waiting to get inside you long enough and he wasn’t about to end it before he’d had his fill of you. When he deemed it safe enough, he pulled away and positioned himself between your legs before sliding in. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip at your reaction, loving the flutter of your eyelids and the pretty way your mouth opened in a pathetic moan.

He couldn’t help but lower himself down onto you, mindful as to not suffocate you but just enough for you to feel the press of his chest against yours as he started fucking into your wet heat.

You took it like a champion, arms circling his upper body and legs falling open as he fucked you into the mattress with reckless abandon. The stress you’d been feeling the past week was slowly seeping out of you, and you welcomed the feeling of it as you brought Lando to your mouth, kissing him until you lost your breath.

“You’re so pretty,” Lando murmured against your lips breathlessly. “My pretty baby.”

He slid one hand between the two of you, long fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in a way that had you crying out against his mouth. Lando refused to blink, didn’t want to miss the look on your face as he brought you closer to euphoria.

“You know what this is, baby?” He asked, hand cupping your pussy and trying not to falter when he felt where the two of you were connected.

Fuck, you were soaking and Lando was really about to blow.

“This is mine.” He hissed, watching the way your eyes rolled before shutting. “Only I get to fuck it, you hear me?”

You opened your mouth to respond that yes, of course it fucking is - but the loud cry that left you instead surprised the both of you as your body tensed up, pussy clenching around his cock as you sobbed through your orgasm. Liquid heat trickled down your back and you momentarily blacked out at the sheer force of you tensing up in your climax.

“Oh fuck.” Lando hissed, dropping his head against the crook of your neck and fucking into your clenching pussy.

If your sounds and the look on your face wasn’t enough to bring him to his end, then the feel of your legs circling around him and locking him into place was enough to do his head in. You moaned weakly as he tensed up in your arms, shooting into the condom and grinding into your sensitive cunt, like he wanted to bury himself as deep as possible.

He probably didn’t realise that in his high, he’d dropped his entire weight on you but you absolutely didn’t mind it; Finding comfort in his heaving body and the feel of his damp hair as you buried your fingers into it.

“God, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” He garbled against your skin as he pulled himself out of you, lifting his head weakly to take a look at you.

You couldn’t help but grin at his flushed face and blown wide pupils, feeling thrilled that this gorgeous man loved you. And you loved him, so much.

“I could really go for a sandwich from the deli down the street right now.” You whispered dreamily, closing your eyes shut as he brought a shaking hand up to swipe a few damp strands from your forehead.

Lando pulled a face.

“If you think we’re not gonna order in, you’re sorely mistaken.”

He shook his head at the thought of leaving the bed - leaving you naked in his bed - to buy sandwiches. No matter how absolutely amazing they were. You blinked up at him with big eyes, pouting your lip and Lando knew right then that he’d lost any willpower he’d had left.

“Oh, you’re good.” He narrowed his eyes, sneaking his hands down to tickle your sides.

You squealed, squirming underneath him and yelling at him to stop, your body too weak to fight back. Lando kept going for a few seconds before he let you push him to the side so you were half laying on top of him instead.

“You’re evil.” You glared at him, but he could see the twitch of your raw lips and the love in your eyes so he didn’t take it too hard.

Lando gripped your chin gently and brought you in a for a kiss before pulling back to look at you. You blinked back and he smiled.

“Alright I’ll go down to the shop in one condition.” He said, trying to sound serious despite the massive grin on his face. “You hop in the shower, and then I want all these books gone from this room by the time I get back. We’re taking the rest of the night off.”

You suppressed a smile at the “we”, nodding your head reluctantly instead because for once you weren’t overwhelmed with stress and you weren’t about to bring it all back when Lando had worked so hard to relieve you of it. Hopefully he’d relieve you of it a couple more times later tonight.

“It’s a deal.” You agreed verbally, bringing your pinky to hook into his own.

“Alright, let’s get to it.” He brought an arm around and slapped your ass.

You jumped with a gasp, glaring at your boyfriend who cackled and jumped out of bed before you could kick him in retaliation. He looked amused as he walked around the bed to find tissues and get rid of the condom, cleaning himself up the best he could. He found the clothes he’d thrown on the floor, pulling them on all the while watching you stretch on the bed like a cat. It was so tempting to crawl back into bed and have his way with you but he gritted his teeth and turned to locate his wallet and phone.

“Text me your order, I’ll see you in a bit.” He said and leaned down to press two kisses to your lips, making a noise in his throat when you wound your hands in his hair and pulled him closer for a few more kisses. “I love you.”

You grinned against his mouth, teeth knocking together but you were too happy to care as he nipped your lower lip and pulled himself up to stand straight.

“Love you too. Be safe.”

You watched him walk out, smiling to yourself at how incredibly lucky you were.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Baby Daddy || Jacob Elordi x reader

Summary: Jacob being a protective dad 😌

Warnings: fem!reader

Wc: 475

A/n: can we just agree that Jacob holding a small baby in his HUGE arms would be the cutest and hottest thing ever 😃😭 I need to see this irl. Posting a Coryo fic later today!!! Also really need to do a Jacob Elordi masterlist lol, will do later today!

Emerging from the grocery store, you held bags in both hands while Jacob effortlessly juggled your one-year-old daughter in one arm and a bag of groceries in the other.

The California sun casts a warm glow as you make your way to the car, Jacob holding your precious daughter, Sydney, in his strong arms. His large frame makes her appear even tinier as he cradles her close.

As you approach the car, Jacob’s keen eyes spot a group of paparazzi in the distance. He instinctively shields Sydney’s face, a protective gesture you’ve both mastered in these public moments.

Jacob glances at you, concern in your eyes, “We should be fine, they’re far away anyways,” Jacob assures you as you unlock the car.

As Jacob secures Sydney in the car seat, you glance over at the paparazzi. Some of them notice Jacob’s protective actions and start snapping pictures even more eagerly.

You could feel their invasive gaze, but your focus remained on Sydney, shielding her from the intrusive lenses from the front seat of the car.

As Jacob buckled up your daughter, he could sense you were uncomfortable, glancing at the paparazzi from time to time. He knew how much it meant to you to keep Sydney’s upbringing away from cameras as much as possible.

“I’m going to go talk to them,” Jacob says as you look at him with surprise. “Are you sure?” You lightly bite your lip as he nods, “Yeah, I’ll be quick,” Is all he says before he shuts the door.

You watch as Jacob makes his way to the group of paparazzi. You couldn’t hear what was being said of course but they seemed understanding about what Jacob was saying to them.

Jacob approached the group with a calm but firm demeanour. “Hey guys, I’m not sure if you’re aware but Y/n and I want to keep our daughter away from the public eyes as much as possible. And I know this is your job but could you please make sure to blur out Sydney’s face in the photos you’ve taken?”

One of the paparazzi’s, seemingly more considerate than the rest, responded, “Sure thing, Jacob. I don’t think we managed to photograph your daughter’s face,” He and the others all take a look through the photo’s they’ve taken whilst showing Jacob.

“But if we find one, we’ll make sure her face is blurred. No problem.” The man says as Jacob nods. “I appreciate it. Have a good day guys.”

As Jacob walked back to the car, you exchanged a relieved glance. As he climbs into the car, you felt a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion from the constant vigilance required to protect your family’s privacy.

You intertwine your hands with Jacob’s, expressing your gratitude, “Thank you for handling that.” A grateful smile adorns your face as he grins, bringing your intertwined hands close to his face and gently kissing your hand.

“Of course, I don’t need to think twice about doing something like that to protect Sydney,” Jacob affirms. He adjusts the rearview mirror, stealing a glance at Sydney in her car seat. Her curious eyes are fixed on the window, captivated by the passing palm trees.

Later that day, you were sent a tweet from Jacob’s sister. It’s from one of the paparazzi who interacted with Jacob earlier. The post details the encounter and emphasises Jacob’s kindness in handling the situation.

The tweet read, “Just had a run-in with Jacob Elordi, and gotta say, he’s one of the nicest celebs I’ve encountered. Asked us to blur out his daughter’s face, and even though we’re paparazzi, he handled it with grace. Big respect for him!”

As you read through the comments, you couldn’t help but smile at the overwhelming support from Jacob’s fans. Messages of admiration for his commitment to Sydney’s privacy flooded the comment section.

yourusername

Liked by jacobelordi, caileespaeny, hbo, zendaya, sydney_sweeney and 10,937,274 others

👶🍼💗💋🧸

view all comments

jacobelordi: love you both so much ❤️

↘️ yourusername: 💗

caileespaeny: aweee

sydney_sweeney: I need to see little Syd like rn 😭

↘️ yourusername: your godchild misses you!

↘️ user1: Is anyone just finding out now that Sydney Sweeney is the the god mother of Jacob Elordi and Y/n Y/l/n’s daughter 😃

↘️ user2: I mean, it kinda makes sense ngl. Y/n and Sydney are childhood besties and then she names her own kid after her best friend.

user3: sometimes I forget Jacob Elordi isn’t single and has a child

user4: those recent pictures of him holding Sydney is doing something to me 🙂

↘️ user5: RIGHT!

↘️ user6: oh for sure.

[reareaotaku]

No Fun Babysitting

Summary: Greg's mother gets him and Manny a babysitter, because Rodrick is 'too busy' with Band practice, and she wants a reliable sitter while her and Frank go out. Though, Rodrick's plans change when he finds out who the babysitter is. Pairings: Rodrick x Fem! Reader [Since my Rodrick posts always tend to do well, here's another you Rodrick lovers!] God this probably so dumb lol. So sorry if it's bad lol

"A babysitter?" Greg looked at his mother like she was crazy. He was 13, he didn't need a babysitter! Maybe Manny, but certainly not him. "Why do I need a babysitter?"

His mother, Susan, finishes drying off a plate, before turning towards him, "Well, Rodrick," She gestures to Rodrick who was sitting at the dining room table eating a bowl of cereal, "has a gig and I need someone reliable to watch you and Manny while me and your father are out."

"Doesn't Gramma usually watch Manny?" Rodrick asked, since they had never offered to pay HIM to watch the kids.

"She's busy."

"Why can't I watch Manny?"

Susan laughs, causing Greg to frown and roll his eyes.

"Oh, Greg. You have not shown me you are responsible enough to care for a goldfish, much less your little brother. Besides, she's supposed to be really good, her name is Y/n."

Rodrick almost spit out his food when he heard the name of Y/n and he was very quick to clarify, "Y/n? Like Y/n L/n, Y/n?"

Susan hums, before rubbing her chin and nodding, "Yes I believe so."

"She's going to be here?"

"Why do you care?" Greg quick asked, suspicious.

"I don't," Rodrick quickly justifies, trying to cover up his previous excitement. He quickly gets up and heads to his room, completely forgetting about the food.

Susan and Greg watched as he left, while the latter grew suspicious.

---

"Thank you so much for coming at such late notice," Susan hands you Manny, who wiggled in her grasp.

"It's really no problem, Mrs. Heffley. I hope you and your husband have a good night out."

"Me, too," She jokes, before shaking her head, "Our numbers are on the fridge and if we don't answer, there's the number of the restaurant...."

You nod your head, listening as she goes on and on about safety and such. When she finally left, you waved her off before carrying Manny into the living room. "So, what do you like to do, Manny?"

Before he could answer, Rodrick quickly rushes in, his guitar hanging off his back. He was covered in sweat and his hair was dismayed/a mess. He pushes his hand through his hair, before looking at you in feigned confusion.

"Oh, Y/n right? I didn't know you were going to be here."

"What are you talking about? Mom sai-"

Rodrick quickly got his shoe and threw it at Greg, hitting him smack in the face. He [Rodrick] pushes inbetween you and Manny, leaning on his hand, "Hey."

"Hi?" You looked past him, towards Manny, who was pushing on Rodrick's back.

"What.. uh, brings you around?"

"Um... What do you mean?"

He turns to face forward , leaning back on his hands, "Uh, you know, ummm...." He clicks his tongue, before looking back at you, "You like music, right?"

"Everyone likes music."

"Right!" He stands up pointing to you, Manny finally looking relieved that Rodrick had moved from his spot.

Manny gets down from the seat and pulls out a puzzle from under the table. You watch him closely as Rodrick still continues to talk.

"I'm in a band, you should come listen."

"Uhuh... Band?" You now looked at him when registering his words.

"Oh, yeah. We're called the Loaded Diaper [Löded Diper]."

"Loaded Diaper?"

"Yeah."

"When you hear them, you'll understand the name," Greg jokes, before hiding under the table when seeing Rodrick's glare.

You look at Greg, before humming and nodding, "I see. Ummm... What kind of music do you guys play?"

"Rock."

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense... Um... Maybe I can come some time."

"Yeah, you should. Just let me know when you're free."

"Yeah, will do."

He walks away from the living room and out the front door, but not before fist bumping, thrilled to have a 'date' kind of.

[sugoi-writes]

REQUEST TIME :333 ummm this is actually my first time requesting here but I’ve been so obsessed with Human Alastor so maybe a sexy thing where he hunts you (fem reader) down in the wooded near his cabin with his shotgun? This is so dangerous lol but he’s shooting and splitting trees as you zip pass them in your nightgown (he would never shoot you it’s for the flare) you stumble over an old stump and he is on your ass! You fight and tumble around before he’s dragging you by your ankles back to his cabin to have his way with you? (All of this was very much consensual between the two of you elaborated foreplay if you will!)

Trigger Happy - Human! Alastor x Fem!Reader

My friend in Satan, I am SO sorry for how long this took! I was honestly getting worked up over it!!! Hate the delay, but I hope the story itself will be worth it! Just as a warning, this is getting towards risky territory, but I promise nothing too bleak. A few warnings: Guns, a heated foot chase, you get distracted there for a while, some physical violence/tussling, f!reader, some f!oral and m!oral, overtsim, rope/restraints, and some REALLY filthy penetrative sex. Y'all are some absolute freaks in this one. Hope you enjoy! (ALSO THIS IS LIKE INSANELY LONG IM SORRY ITS LIKE 9K--)

SPECIAL SHOUT OUT TO @minkdelovely and @hazelfoureyes for helping me through this and being my scream queens/beta readers dhoduhdouhdoduhdohidoi <3 (I'm in love with both of you BLINKBLINK)

Taglist: @ieatcocoa @nocturessa @tsukikos-stuff @leviskittywh0re

@polyo-nym-y @cosmiccandydreamer @littlebluefishtail @your-excellenc-z21 and others (if you wanna be tagged I'll add you! Sorry I've never made a taglist before???)

🩸🦌🩸

Your hands fidgeted in your lap as Alastor finished the final touches of tonight's meal. You regarded him nervously as his humming filled the humble interior of his inherited cabin. He was in such a good mood, you thought... Why spoil something so tender and domestic between the two of you?

For a while now, you knew of your darling beau's aversion to many things, physical intimacy being one he struggled with most. At least, compared to most... You hardly minded, as when you were on the receiving end of such of intimacy... Well, let's just say you could usually expect to be bedridden for a few hours. You swallow the bile creeping up, nerves reflected in your voice as you spoke," Alastor, dear?"

A pair of kind, almond-colored eyes looked upon you, making your heart leap. Alastor's eyes turned a warm amber when exposed to the charming lighting provided by the fireplace.

"Yes, darling?" Alastor cooed, his tone still airy and filled with a domestic softness.

"Could we... could we talk for a moment? Before dinner?"

Your partner gave you a bemused look, as if he were asked a ridiculous question. His hands settled on his hips as he rocks his weight onto his other foot, eyebrows raising.

"Dear, why let the food grow cold? Could we not discuss it over dinner? I tell you, it's JUST like my mother's; it's hearty, filling, and--"

"Alastor," you interrupt, a stern bite cutting through your meek tone," Pl-Please... If I try to tell you while you're eating, you'd probably choke." Alastor grants you an interesting look, eyes widening with your change in demeanor. But of course, he relents, sighing like a demure housewife.

"Well then, who am I to refuse... Choking is rather unpleasant, anyhow." Quickly, Alastor fusses over your meal, dousing the fire to let it simmer.

"Now then: we have a few minutes before I need to stir it. Tell me... what's troubling you?"

You gesture for Alastor to sit with you, to take his place at the table. He silently moves towards it in confident, wide strides. You watch nervously as he sits, crossing his legs formally. You felt the sweat trickle into your brow as his simple actions felt like they took an eternity... Alastor then sets his elbows on the table, resting his chin upon his folded hands. He looked... entirely too comfortable, a stark contrast with your stiff spine and sweating palms.

Alastor watches you quietly, granting you a moment to collect your thoughts. And then, you speak:

"Alastor... you know how-- well, it's been a while since we last-- Uhhm..." The quiver of your lip tips your partner off immediately, his eyes squinting. The smile that plays on his face is telling, his teeth gleaming under the dim light.

"Oh honestly, what am I to do with you? Yes, of course we can try for a little romp tonight. But... I sense that our standard 'bedroom practices' aren't the only thing clouding your mind?"

He just didn't get it. He didn't understand the weight of what was on your mind, and how quickly it was going to hit him. You were thinking of this for weeks, terrified of his reaction... But, in the comfort of the cozy, warm cabin: it was now or never. You felt a tinge of guilt as you felt his flirty smile widen, ready to shatter his expectations.

You nod in affirmation, forcing yourself to look his way fully," Right. I have an idea. Something to... change things up. 'Make it a bit more interesting, if you'll hear me out."

Alastor hums pleasantly, one of his hands gesturing outward in an animated way. He regards you just the same, opening the floor to you. You steel your nerves, hands turning to balled up fists as you formulate your next thought bluntly," I want you to hunt me, Alastor. I wanted to be hunted."

A silence befalls the room, causing panic to rise in your chest. Your chaste, Creole partner stares back at you, eyes wide. His expression was damnably neutral, as if processing your demand. You immediately start onto a tangent, leaning forward as you make your case.

"L-Look, I know how that sounds... I don't want you to actually hurt me or kill me-- I mean-- I feel like you'd be terribly sad if I were gone, but-- No, I mean in a more..."

When you trail off, you expect Alastor to pick up on your meaning. You sigh with frustration, your hands mirroring each other as they mimed your body's curves and contours," ...sexual... way."

Alastor's expression morphs under the light of the fireplace, which burned dutifully. Alastor's black pupils dilate, his mouth falling ajar. He sits upright in his seat, leaning back as he takes everything in.

" You want me to... pursue you. Hunt you... like I would wild game? Is... Is that what you're asking?"

You nod firmly, your hands trembling," I-I know, I know... it's different. I told you it would be different--"

"Different is hardly a bad thing, mon cherie... 'just surprising, is all," Alastor drawls, his eyes softening. He could see how much you were worked up. You were scared to disappoint; scared to be rejected. He hated to see the soured look on your face, and was determined to replace it with something else," What exactly do you have in mind? This-- pursuit of ours... what are the conditions?"

It was now your turn for your face to morph, a mix of surprise and relief, a faint heat brewing in your stomach," Well... I'd like you to treat it like a legitimate chase. I could be a deer, in a sense... something to bring home for dinner. You'd chase me, and I would do my best to fight back, run away...," your eyes wander over to the shotgun by the cabin door, eyes glazed from your impure thoughts," But I don't want you empty handed. I want... I'd like for you to bring the shotgun. Use it, even... as long as you don't actually try to kill me." Alastor's expression, you swore, was now the rawest it's been since you've first met him. His heart was on his sleeve: confusion, shock, delirium, and... some sort of desire. A hunger.

Alastor smoothly rises from the table, his footsteps almost echoing in the silence. He makes his way to his nightstand, fishing out something you couldn't see. When Alastor turns towards you, you hear a familiar clink, as his revolver shines in the warm light. He opens the chamber, showing to you that it is empty, before sealing it with a resolute spin. Your fists unclench, and you let out a breath that you hadn't realized you were holding.

"Dear, as lovely and authentic as it would be... I would hate to bring the shotgun. That tool is far too accurate and far too deadly, even in an inexperienced person's hands. A round so small can tear a hole wider than your skull, given the proper range..." When Alastor returned to the table, he sets the empty revolver there, your heart thumping at the implications. He slid it towards you, as if a peace offering," I wonder what may have caused this idea to fester... But it's one I'm most certainly intrigued by," he offers simply. You tried your best not to look away, his smile exposing just how fascinated he was with your proposal. His eyes were a dead giveaway: he was more than willing to carry this act out.

Your hand ghosts over the revolver, the wood of the grip much warmer than the cool metal of the barrel. Alastor clears his throat, calling your attention back to him," If I may, dearest, I also have a request..."

You feel your heart thudding loudly in your chest, the loud pulse making you deaf to the rest of the world.

"Which is...?" you attempt to counter smoothly, but the breathiness of your tone gives you away. Alastor's eyes squint, familiar with that lilt of yours. He relished seeing you like this: embarrassed, sheepish... But most of all, you felt an overwhelming desire to have him agree; have him take charge. His ego bloomed right under your nose... He wanted to see just how badly this desire had been burning inside of you.

"Do you recall the nightgown that you wore when we first embraced, love? The white little number with lace trim?" You nodded immediately, a heat rising in your face as you recalled your first night with your partner," Y-Yes... yes, I think I have it with me, actually."

Alastor moves over to your side of the table, kneeling down to your height. He grabs your chin, gently tilting your head to meet his eyes. You couldn't help the spark of desire that shot up your spine as a wicked smile stretches across Alastor's face," Good. I'd like to see it thoroughly ruined once I'm done with you."

You swore you had a stroke, your eyes wider than the dinner saucers that set the cozy, oak dinner table. You were brought back to reality as Alastor patted your cheek, practically singing when he spoke again.

"Now: let's eat. You'll need this to have your strength, dear~ The hunt starts this evening. Once dinner is finished, you'll have until I fully load the revolver to run. And that's when I'll come for you... understood?"

You had all but forgotten how to breathe, a stupefied nod his only reply as Alastor went back to the stove," Ohhh, almost forgot! We still have some bread from last night! I hope that's alright, dear~"

You were almost numb from the overwhelming sensations and emotions that coursed through your body. You were so excited and so nervous that you couldn't even think of eating. But Alastor had worked so hard to make you a fresh, homecooked meal... who were you to let it go cold? Despite yourself, you happily devoured the entire course, and were soon given seconds. Alastor grants you a coy smile, his expression saying what he kept silent: eat up. You're gonna need it.

---

Like the dutiful partner you were, you helped Alastor clean every dish and utensil used to prepare dinner. Ever the vixen, you even smeared some of the broth across his cheek, just to lick it off. The act made Alastor shudder, but he spared you, merely squeezing your hips and giving you a kiss. As for tonight... well, you wondered just how gentle he would be... if at all.

Once you had dried the last utensil, your ears perked up at the sound of a metallic clink. Your eyes widened, head whipping around to see Alastor opening the barrel to his revolver. He glances towards you, a neutral smile on his face," Oh! Sorry to startle you, dear. Just filling the chamber. 'Thought I heard something stalking outside... I might have to investigate it. You can never be to careful, these days."

You gasped, eyes dilating as you shook with anticipation. Now, now was the time.

You sprinted over to your suitcase, throwing it on the bed as you frantically searched for your nightgown. He was eager to start too, it seemed--

Click. First bullet loaded.

"I say, what a strange time of year...," Alastor rambled as he spun the glistening chamber, pushing up his glasses with the wrist of his other hand. The second bullet was clutched in his fingers, the rest scattered on the counter. You nearly shrieked as you frantically tear off your loungewear, exchanging it for the gown that Alastor requested. He would have thought the action was adorable and meek, if it weren't for his desire to fuck you stupid.

A bemused chuckle fills the air, dark and full of promise.

"What do you think is out there right now, love? A little rabbit, perhaps? With a fluffy white tail?"

Click. Second round.

You made your way hastily to the door as Alastor watched you, wiping the barrel of his revolver with the edge of his flannel. He was taking his time and making this spectacle: that you knew for sure. He seemed aloof, unbothered by your accelerated heartrate... but it agonized him to no end. This zesty little suggestion already had his mind reeling, possibilities of how he would claim you crossing over him every time he blinked.

"No, perhaps it's a deer? A doe, even? I hear it's about that time of year... mating season, that is." Your face grew hot at the notion, cursing yourself for not better preparing for this. You made sure to pull on your hiking shoes, tying the laces tightly. You prayed that they'd stay on to protect your feet.

Alastor hums with curiosity, blinking. Another image of you, trembling and moaning under his body, making his nethers pulse with interest.

"Ohh, maybe a bobcat! Something feisty... I wonder how it would taste?"

Click number three. Halfway through...

You turn around, chest already heaving as you made eye contact with Alastor. He saw you for the deranged, desperate animal that you were. His eyes matched your energy, an uncanny smile on his face. Alastor's pupils were mere pinpricks, the overwhelming expanse of amber and caramel brown nearly glowing.

"I don't know, baby... But whatever it is, I hope it runs fast," you grin to Alastor as he mirrors your expression, his tongue running across his pristine teeth.

"I'd hate to think of what would happen if you caught up to it."

With that, you were out of the door, unable to hear the rapid succession of bullets four, five, and six. Teasing be damned, he was making himself impatient. Alastor made a show of closing the weapon with a hard snap and spin, a satisfying weight settling into his hand. With the gun fully loaded, it just felt so... right. A fascination he gained from his father, unfortunately. Though he did appreciate the skills he learned from the sick bastard, that was the extent of his affection.

He'd have a good number of things to thank him for before the end of the night, as he slipped on his own pair of outdoor boots. When he stepped out onto the deck, he had caught a glimpse of you. That delicate little nightgown was fluttering and fleeting, catching the moonlight. It had to have been around 9 or 10 o'clock at night... A perfect time for your little chase to commence. Not to mention, the cool, crisp Fall air had made everything entirely better; not too hot, and not too cold. For all the weather that permeated in this southern state, Fall in Louisiana had been one of Alastor's favorites. It was his favorite namely for Open Season... and how convenient for him that you were added to the list of eligible, wild game...

He inhaled deeply through his nose, savoring the scent of evergreen and pine tickling his senses. He held his breath like this for a while, feeling his chest expand and burn from the denial of oxygen. Once he'd had enough, he exhaled heavily, a shudder running through his entire body. He let you have a decent head start. Now the chase could begin.

---

Your lungs burned from how swiftly you ran, feet carrying you further than you had ever pushed yourself. In that moment, you almost felt liberated, free… as if something had rolled off your chest. You aren't quite sure where this sense of euphoria came from, but you embraced it all the same, laughing breathlessly as your dress caught in stray branches and debris, your boots splashing into the wet, almost marshy forest floor. You breathed in through your nose, feeling a similar pull as Alastor to just take everything in… You were greeted with smells of wood and earth, though, in this part of the forest, you caught whiff of a water source nearby. As if a tether were around your waist, you felt called to it. Your running came to a steady, calm trot, your eyes trying to adjust to the darkness of the night.

You stop just by a clearing, a familiar bayou greeting you. You marveled at the scenery before you, scarcely lit up by the moonlight. You had almost forgotten about your little game with Alastor, brushing stray Spanish Moss aside as you stepped fully out into the open. You smile fondly, a memory crossing your mind:

You, frantically shaking Alastor's shoulders as you try to point out a doe and her darling, new fawn. But, in your desperation, the deer were scared away, frightened by your presence. You had been heartbroken, though your partner swore up and down that he saw them, and that even so: your enthusiasm was a much more charming sight.

You walked a few yards from the water's edge, not wanting to chance it; meeting a creature of the night face-to-face was not your idea of "fun"... unless it was Alastor. You were grateful, then, for your hiking boots, as they made navigating the wet earth beneath your feet much easier. However, your foot catches on your next step, causing you to stumble into a nearby tree. When catching yourself, you spy a delicately carved pattern: yours and Alastor's first initials. (You, later on, had added the heart that surrounded them). Initially, you hadn't wanted to deface a tree like this, but Alastor, ever the charmer, insisted that it would become a landmark for you; a way to tell where you were if you were ever lost...

Your hands traced the familiar carvings, the rivets scratching against your fingertips gently. You just felt your heart swell more, the thoughts of your softer moments making your mind fog. Even with someone hot on your tail, your focus waning. You began humming to yourself as you continued your restful stroll, running through moments in your memory that made you feel particularly cozy; safe.

Just when you had felt your safest, a loud SNAP of a tree twig sounded to your rear left. You froze in your tracks, turning feverishly towards the sound. Your once still, content heart was racing wildly, eyes as wide as the moon looming above you. You slowly turned your entire body to face the noise, making sure to keep your eyes focused on the direction you heard the snap. You start to walk backwards, making your way stealthily towards the tree line.

Most animals will attack you with your back turned… facing them will deter an assault, even if for a few moments, you thought… Just before you could disappear, having half a mind to sprint-- a sudden, deafening CRACK rang out, followed by the splintering of wood. You looked to your left again, as you witness the tree next to you receive a battle scar: a bullet wound.

RUN.

You bolted into the thick underbrush, doing your best to stay low to the ground as a set of steady, patient steps pursued you. Had you not had a good distance on him, your hunter's pace would have been undiscernible from your own. It thrilled you; it horrified you. You knew that Alastor had a knack for hunting, and had you known he was THIS committed, you would have asked for a better head start.

A startling thought plagued your mind as you had a moment of clarity, your face paling. You ASSUMED this was Alastor… what if it wasn't? What if this was a wild animal, who had its sights on you? What if it was another marksman, and you were trespassing on their property? The thought made your throat run dry, the instinct to become small and hide winning over your other senses.

You nearly shrieked as a second bullet wizzes past you, less than a yard away, before it strikes the tree to your right. To your horror: it was at eye level. Had this been a stranger… they were going for the kill.

You crouch all the way down to the forest floor, searching frantically until you spy an hollowed-out tree log. You slink your way over, searching for any residents or critters, before diving headfirst into the tree husk. You laid on your back, bringing your legs in as far as they could go. You winced as your knees scrapped against the dead wood. Unable to calm down, you hastily cover your mouth with both hands. You were doing your absolute best to calm your breathing. Think, now, think… you had to think your way out of this mess.

The steady beat of the hunter's footsteps slowed, until they stop entirely. You resisted the urge to sigh in relief, still unsure if you were safe or not. Eventually, you couldn't hear a thing over the deafening stillness, the normal noises of the woods silenced by your escapade. Much like you, other creatures seemed to wait with bated breath. Maybe they were terrified of the hunter… maybe they were terrified of you.

You twitch as you hear the familiar clink of metal, a revolver's spinning wheelhouse catching your ear. You weren't out of the woods yet… this could still be another person. This could very well be a real hunt… A sharp inhale sounds just a few yards away. You nearly jumped out of your skin, eyes slamming shut. When did that hunter get closer!? Had you misjudged how far away you were from him?!

"Only 4 more bullets, Little Cottontail… let's see if you can evade them all~"

Relief and terror washed over you simultaneously: Alastor. Your body was paralyzed with conflicting emotions, breath picking up as you hear footsteps stirring closer. You could feel the panic rising in your face, blood pressure raging; but you can also feel the traitorous, hazy heat that engulfed your core. Either way, Alastor had you completely on edge, your fragile mind was on the verge of caving in either way. Should you run away, or run to him? That was your conflict…

Knock knock

Your eyes fly open as you dare to look between your bent legs, spying a pair of steely, hungry brown eyes. Pupils mere pinpricks, the whites of his eyes were nearly glowing under the light of the moon.

"There's that sweet, little rabbit!"

You shrieked as you were pulled out of the log, knees and back scrapping against the wood of your shelter. When you met solid earth, you kicked and fought, eyes wide and animalistic. Your body still fell into conflict; you wanted this to be a real chase: FIGHT BACK. Alastor was quick to avoid your kicks, straddling your hips as he tried to restrain your flailing arms. Never did you make contact, but Alastor was cautious to avoid any accidental hits, all the same.

"Oh dear, was I wrong after all? Am I really still chasing a scared, feral little rabbit~? Or something bigger…" Alastor teased, managing to seize one of your hands. It was immediately pinned above your head as you thrashed, grunting and groaning in your efforts to escape. Alastor pressed further into you, eliciting a tight -lipped moan as you felt an unmistakable hardness rub against your core. He was enjoying this much more than his face allowed him to show…

"Be a good little pet, won't you? Won't you let me take you back to my cabin? I promise I'll make this quick and painless~"

You thrashed your head back and forth. You didn't want this to be quick. You didn't WANT it to be painless. You wanted more. MORE of this.

In a daring fit of heightened hormones and rushed decision making, a loud SLAP filled the air. You panted as your hand stung, Alastor's face now jerked to the left, looking away. A flushed, red print was painted across his handsome face, his eyes wide with disbelief. He sat there like this for a few moments, his grip on your hand all but gone. You took this opportunity to slink out from under him, using his dumbfounded expression as a gauge. Truly, how long did you have until he was grounded?

Sadly, it wasn't long, a slender hand cupping the offending, fading mark. You looked down as you saw something move, your mouth watering: his cock was even harder than before, twitching from the sudden outburst. A shaky, broken sigh left Alastor's trembling lips as he slowly looked back towards you. A deep dusty rose flooded his cheeks as he chuckled, his voice full of a wicked venom. His free hand fished for his revolver, the barrel now pointing straight at you.

"Alright, then… no more playing nice."

You immediately vaulted out of the way as a third shot rang out, impacting the earth you had just been sprawled upon. Alastor elegantly got to his feet, like a regal vampire exiting his coffin. He pressed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, pupils wide with desire as he watched you bob and weave into the trees.

"Three more to go," he growled, his grin widening madly as he broke out into a frenzied sprint.

The panic was steadily rising, as did your burning desire. You realized, with horror, that Alastor's pace nearly went in double time, and he was steadily gaining on you. And so, you figured if you were truly to get caught, it might as well be a trap for him too--

BANG

Shot number four rang out, a terror-filled scream igniting the night; this shot was less than a foot from your trembling, straining right leg. You muscles were scorched from the effort you put yourself in, core fully engaged as you tried to focus on breathing. You were unsuccessful, already far too overworked and overheated. You came to the harsh realization that you couldn't run much longer.

You started charting your course carefully, taking dips and turns in hopes to throw Alastor off of your trail… but ever the clever man, he never lost sight of you. And, despite your best efforts, he was nearly on top of your imaginary cottontail. You dared to look behind you, searching for the madman coming for you, only to see he was no where in sight. Your pace slowed down, confused as his footsteps cease. You came to a dead stop, spinning around wildly to find any sign of your darling partner. Your mouth ran dry as you panted, legs nearly giving out from under you. As you took in your surroundings, you feared that you may be lost… truly, genuinely lost.

"A-Al… Alastor? Baby...?" you rasp between pants, a hand coming up to your heaving chest. You take a few, cautious steps back towards the direction you came from, squinting harshly. Your eyes still had not adjusted to the low visibility of the dank, dark forest.

"A-Al… AL?!" you call desperately, scared that you may have lost him, or worse: maybe he was injured... You go to take off again, before a hand snakes around your throat. You couldn't scream as the hand squeezes your pulse, a cold, metallic object pressed into your lower back. Your fear transformed into relief, which transformed into desire, all within a span of few seconds. Familiar, heated lips brushed against the shell of your ear. Alastor's breath was heavy on your skin.

"I guess I didn't need all of my rounds, after all." Alastor nearly purred, despite his labored breathing. His warm breath followed his lips as they came to the junction of your jaw and neck, three fingers unfurling from your pulse. This left him just enough room to litter the bared skin of your neck with short, open mouthed kisses, your eyes fluttering closed. Even with only two fingers squeezing your throat, you still felt lightheaded, unable to escape. You shuddered under his grasp, your body instantly surrendering to his desire. It was official: the chase was officially over. Alastor knew that the moment you sighed into his touch.

"Good girl~"

In a rapid succession, you were grabbed and hauled over Alastor's wide shoulder, his free hand tucking his revolver away. Your hands flew down to grope and run over Alastor's body, your lungs still exhausted from the strife of running away. Alastor allowed your hands to explore, appearing unphased as he carried you out of the woods. He resisted every fiber in his being to not bend you over and fuck you into the damp earth; a filthy act for a filthy-minded girl like you. But, he had at least some modicum of class… he needed to make this last; he would ensure this was something you wouldn't soon forget.

-- You felt embarrassed by how rapidly your heart beat, how frantically you were tugging at Alastor's flannel, but when your eyes looked up to a different building, your heart nearly stopped. You were walking toward 'the shack', Alastor called it… THIS was where he took all of his wild game after hunting them down. Seeing your unease, he slapped you on the ass, hoping to chase away your nerves," Don't worry, darling… I told you I would be gentle~"

His words contradicted his actions as you were practically thrown into the shed, sprawled out onto the floor. Your eyes tried taking in your surroundings, but it was far too dark to see. You yelped as both of your hands were seized and tied with a coarse jute rope, the fibers pricking your wrists. When you felt Alastor leave you, your legs came together, heat still pooling in your lower abdomen," S-Sooo, Mr. Huntsman~ You've caught me~ What do you plan to d--" Your questioning was cut short as you were suddenly jerked onto your knees, your hands now taunt over your head. A few more tugs on your rope, and you were standing upright, struggling to balance on the balls of your feet. You wobbled as you heard shuffling behind you, rope being fastened, and the clink of Alastor's revolver laying on a flat surface.

Alastor left you in suspense like this for a few moments, as he brought his hands together with a satisfied hum. The crisp sound made you jump as if it were gunfire, your cunt nearly drooling as you strained to look for Alastor in the pitch.

"Now then… 'can't see very well like this, can we?"

A lantern was lit just in front of your face, startling you. You realized that Alastor had all but held his breath to get closer to you, those same, silent footsteps deceiving you again. You couldn't find the words to speak, eyes wide with disbelief and desire as you stared back at Alastor's shit eating grin.

"Ahhh, yes… Finally managed to capture you, you tricky thing~," he mused as he flicked the tip of your nose. He chuckled when you wiggled it back and forth and recoiled, almost mimicking the animal he claimed you to be. "No, I don't think you're privy to know what I plan to do to you, with words… But, I can certainly show you." He seized your cheeks roughly with one hand, puckering your lips as he closed the distance between your bodies," But you might enjoy that too, wouldn't you?" Alastor's other hand ran dangerously up your trembling thigh, his face cool and collected as you were practically panting under his touch.

"P-Please…"

Alastor sends you a questioning look, before grinning maliciously," I didn't realize animals could speak, let alone have permission to." A harsh grip on your thigh anchored you to Alastor's pelvis, and you felt the familiar, hardened length on your core. You whined, obeying in silence as Alastor ground against you. His mouth fell open as he pressed his hips again, eager to seek some friction.

"You'd like me to use you, wouldn't you…? Breed this body like a deranged rabbit while you're helpless, defenseless under my touch…" Your mouth watered at the idea, your eyes fluttering as his hand shifted to palm your ass. His smirk was very telling, both hands moving to spread and palm your backside properly. His touch was slow and sensual on your trembling, supple body.

"Or maybe I should lay my claim here… Uncharted wilderness is quite thrilling to explore, don't you think?" His breath was so low it rattled his own ribcage. Without warning, a groan was torn from both of your throats as you bucked into Alastor's hips. Your eagerness was not unwelcomed...

Alastor was rewarded with another broken, wanton moan for his scandalous ideas and his wandering hands. He realized, in that moment, he was telling you exactly what he wanted to do to you. And, in that same moment, he decided that he didn't fucking care.

"Or maybe… maybe I can't wait--" Alastor starts to drag his lips down your form, kissing down your neck, then the valley of your breasts, then your abdominals… before landing at the hem of your still-concealed underwear. "I'm quite parched, love… Surely you won't mind if I quench my thirst, first?" Alastor's hands snake up your thighs as your nightgown is pushed up, revealing his current target: your clothed loins. His pupils shrink as he inhales, almost nuzzling into your inviting cunt. You whine weakly when he gazes up to you with mesmerized eyes; he was as bent out of shape as you were, and he was struggling to keep it concealed… Was he really going to enjoy himself, or sink his teeth in? Your heart stuttered at either possibility.

You nodded down to Alastor, wobbling as you spread your legs as far as you could. Your wrists were reminded of their predicament as you tried to move, thrashing in your restraints. You didn't speak, a firm nod your answer and consent. As Alastor kissed your awaiting heat, he shifted your legs onto his shoulders, alleviating the pressure on your feet. Had you not been so aroused, you would be heavily flustered by this gesture: a kindness yet something so brazen, even for your sweet beau.

He squeezed the meat of your thighs, humming as he licked a warm, wet stripe between your covered lips, the fabric of your panties already drenched with your arousal. You swore you saw his eyelids flutter as he sighed against you, diving in more earnestly. You wailed with frustration, unable to feel the full effect of his tongue just yet. You cared very little, however, as some attention was better than none. Your struggled against your restraints once more, warning hands digging into your thighs. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it simmered into a moan with each wave of pleasure. You wanted to scream as Alastor continued to tease you, unable to regulate your breathing or your moans.

He wasn't kidding; he wanted to eat you out like a man starved, his tongue dancing along your drenched panties wildly. He left no surface unmarked by his sinful, silver tongue. Alastor practically moaned around your sensitive bud, your mind reeling at the sensation as your hips bucked subconsciously. Whether it was because he was enjoying himself, or strictly to stimulate your clit, you weren't sure… but that little noise sent jolts of electricity right to your core.

Despite this: you were rewarded with a nip to your pearl, a whiney, breathy moan your weak rebuttal. You secretly hoped he would tear you apart, just to put you back together and break you again.

Your mind refocused as you felt your underwear being moved to the side, a bold, eager tongue now attending to your bare, puffy folds. You shrieked his name, whimpering from the stimulation. His tongue worked dexterously, licking and coddling every curve, dip, and crevice. Alastor's movements were now raw and unfiltered, MUCH to your delight.

Your legs caged his head, squeezing him closer to you as you felt your orgasm forming at an alarming rate. You couldn't help but mewl, head falling forward and limp as Alastor buried his face into your mound. His straight, rigid nose prodded your clit as he drove his tongue into your aching entrance, your taste and scent engulfing his thoughts. You let out a long, satisfied moan as he began to pump his long tongue in and out of you, working both his spit and your arousal in and out. The slick skin-on-skin squelching did nothing to calm the fire behind your eyes, toes popping with how violently they curled. Alastor continued his brutal pace, unable to get enough of your taste, scent, and special, little cries that were made just for him.

"F-fuhhh~ F-Fahhh--! Ahh! A-Al!" you cried, wanting desperately to use your words; you tried to give him a warning. You were near your climax, tears pricking your half-lidded eyes. You heard Alastor grunt into you, hands rubbing and kneading your thighs, as if asking you to crush his head more. You obliged, bucking into his mouth as your release started to approach. He had his mouth full, no doubt! Even so: you swore you heard Alastor moan and whisper into your folds hastily, suckling and swirling your clit to make you cum.

"F-Fuck-- Oh fuck, cum for me, then--"

Your body spasmed, head tossing back sharply,"F-Fuck, Al-- Al!!! Fuck, cumming--"

The dizzying affect swam over you swiftly, a scream that could be mistaken for pain filling the tiny shack you were in. The force and sudden rise in pleasure was overwhelming, almost maddening as Alastor wound you back down. You were gently set back onto your feet, legs shaking... All the while, his tongue never stopped, making you whine from overstimulation.

"A-Al… please, that's-- G-God! You can stop now-- Ahh~" You would have doubled over if your hands weren't restrained, your tongue lolling out from between your lips. The delightful slurping from below didn't cease, and seemed to become even more feverish. Alastor smiled up at you, parting for just a moment before licking his slick-covered lips.

" Am I not allowed to have seconds, dear?"

Your face seemed to catch on fire as you try to formulate a reply. However, Alastor's mouth knocked it out of you, head vacant as he continues to ravage you. He suckled on your abused clit, hands holding your hips in place as you tried to squirm away from his devious touch.

"F-Fuck! F-Fuck, Al, please--!!! T-Too much-- Ahhn-- T-Too much!!" you cried, your wrists chaffed against the rope that bound you.

Alastor did not relent, instead pressing you further into his face as he feasted upon you. His slurping and gulping nearly doubled with a grotesque volume, his eyes wide and watching you. You trembled under his intense gaze, rushing towards a very intense, unnecessary second orgasm.

"F-Fuck-- Alastor!! A-Al! Fuck, don't--" you whined, tears streaming down your face as the searing heat of the new orgasm washed over you," Pl-Please-- FUCK--"

Another shriek bounced off the walls as a hasty, overwhelming feeling flooded your loins. You winced with embarrassment as you felt a sudden gush of warmth coat your sex and thighs. Of course, Alastor was on the receiving end, but didn't seem to mind, his tongue only slowing when you were practically sobbing into the afterglow. Your legs completely gave out on you, wincing as your arms held your entire body aloft," F-Fuck… Fuuuuckkk…" you whined as your head spun, your eyes blurry from the pleased, hot tears that stained your face. A sweet, warm hand cupped your cheek, forcing you to look Alastor's way.

"An absolutely breathtaking meal, darling…," Alastor panted, his eyes warm but still full of a lusty haze," Please… if you'll have me, I simply can't stop there."

When you gave him a weak but sure nod, Alastor nearly bolted to the secured rope, allowing you to descend to your knees. The warm wooden floor dug into your legs as you waited. Alastor was quick to resecure the rope before looping back to you. " If I were to ravage your pussy now, I'm afraid this little show might end early… So for both our sakes…" Alastor swiftly freed his aching cock, a hand lazily pumping his flushed member. Despite his aversion to touching himself, he sighed into the relief his hand provided.

"Won't you please… allow me to use your sweet lips instead, pet?"

How could you say no, with his words tumbling out sweetly?

With a speed that made Alastor dizzy, you beckoned him to you, tongue first. He allowed you to kiss the head of his flushed cock, eyes drinking in your expressions and your body. He had half a mind to cut the rope holding you hostage, but decided against it when you took him into your warm mouth. Alastor hastily covered his lips, stifling a groan as his other hand fisted your hair. You didn't mind, hollowing your cheeks as you took as much of him in as you could. His public hair tickled the very tip of your nose, his musk invading your senses. Had his mind been clearer, Alastor would've worried about your ability to breathe... but he had to focus on not throat fucking you first.

"Shit-- so warm--," Alastor groaned, his voice still muffled. Despite this, his words reached your perked ears, and causing your wet entrance to flutter around nothing. Alastor flinched, his hips spasming as you took him down to his base. He was jammed far into your throat, your eyes rolling back as you tried to relax around his engorged member. A choked noise and a sputter erupted around his cock, a pleased moan eagerly following. As much as Alastor was enjoying himself, you would be lying if you said choking on Alastor's cock wasn't fun for you.

"Fuck, don't hurt yourself, darling-- I don't need-- FUCK--" The moment you started to bob your head, all words and worries flew out the window, the hand in your hair beginning to guide your descent. Alastor felt like he was being incinerated, his body electrified by your wriggling tongue and tight mouth. His restraint was beginning to wane, hair fanning across his sweat-slicked forehead," Fuck, you take this so well-- Take ME so well--"

Alastor panted, hardly able to keep his eyes open as you whined around him. His grip in your hair grew harsher, his hips beginning to stir.

"So malleable, so eager-- Good God--" Alastor's head fell forward as you created a delicious, tight suction around his dick. The sensation nearly drove him to bellowing, your name tumbling clumsily from his parched lips. He stared at the point where his cock disappeared into your mouth, then up to your teary eyes. Fresh tears spilled over your flushed cheeks, his words causing a shiver to run up your spine. Alastor, completely enthralled, felt his cock throb at the sight of your desperation, gritting his teeth," FUCK-- Damn it all--!"

Straining to reach out of sight, his hand ends up landing on a carving knife. Once he could grip it properly, he hastily swings above you. You flinch for a moment, before your arms relax and fall to your sides. You realized he cut you loose, but you had no time to dabble on the thought. Alastor's cock slid out of your mouth, your jaw setting into a neutral, open shape. Alastor started to stroke himself hastily, using his other hand to gesture in a circle," Turn around-- on all fours. NOW."

You didn't hesitate when that dark, brisk command was thrown your way, clambering like a newborn deer. You turn to look back at him, wagging your hind in a teasing way," Don't want to waste a drop, huh?" you teased, a coy smile on your face. Alastor laughed, breathy and high, as he fell to his knees. He easily towered over you as he aligned himself to your dribbling, plush entrance," You know me too well, love."

The plunge of his cock nearly knocked you onto your stomach, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. To your pleasant surprise, Alastor had bottomed out inside of you. There was a slight discomfort from the sudden intrusion (one that wasn't unwelcome) as a strong arm wrapped around your torso.

" B-Bear with me. I'll fill you up soon, dear--"

You nearly cried as Alastor began to move, hips already hammering into your most intimate place at an animalistic rate. You were truly fucking like rabbits, unable to do anything but chase your own desires. Alastor buried his face into your neck, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his grunts. You were unable to stifle your own, the sounds of your ecstasy bouncing around the room. The steady, rhythmic squelching of your privates were almost drowned out by the steady plap, plap, plap against your ass with every brutish press. You were getting close... And as Alastor's voice rose with yours, you realized he couldn't be fa behind. You allowed yourself to fall forward, cheek smashed against the grain of the floorboards as you arched your back," F-Fuck… fuck me, Alastor-- Hah-- Oh god, please--" Your eyes slammed shut as Alastor's pace only increased, his hips angling in a way that stroked your g-shot with every press.

"Yes, love-- fuck yes, you want this? Harder? Faster? Fuck--" He accented your mental demands with more energy, a hand cupping your bouncing, right breast as the other caressed your stuffed pussy. He sought your puffy pearl at the apex of your cunt, and drew quick, deliberate circles into it.

" Fuck, fuck! I need you to cum-- Want you to cum--," Alastor begged, his breath hot and heavy in your ear," O-One more time, please-- then I'll make sure to fuck my-- Oh fuck! I'll fuck you full of my cum--"

Your mouth hung open, drool pooling under your cheek as you felt your orgasm building for the third time that night, your hands clawing into the wooden floor," F-Fahh-- ahh! Yes!!! Fuck me, shit-- fuck me stupid, Al!!!" you wailed, eyes flying open as he pinched your clit. You clamped resolutely around his cock, your body locking up-- Yes, yes, just a few more thrusts--

"FUCK!!!"

You came with a wail and a tremor, your lungs screaming for air as it was fucked right out of you. Alastor, watching and feeling your body unravel under him, was unable to last any longer. He pressed his forehead into your shoulder, humping once, twice, thrice until he delivered a deep, devastating thrust. Your name became a debauched mantra as you milked his cock, spurts of hot, white seed painting your core. You trembled as you felt it being fucked into you, Alastor sighing into your shoulder.

"Sh-Shit… Shit, I love you. God, I fucking love you--" Alastor cursed into your shoulder, his hips stirring again," I-I can't stop-- fuck, you keep sucking me back in--"

You whined as Alastor started to rut into you again, his hardened length not wavering in the slightest. Like an animal in heat, he proceeded to fuck you through his own climax, eager to fill you up again," F-Fuck, I'm sorry-- You feel too good. Fuck, this is--"

You did your best to look behind you, lips clumsily kissing his temple, his forehead-- whatever you could reach," H-Hahn… hah, it's okay! Pl-Please, use me… F-Fuck, you can use me again! I wanna feel you cum in me again, Al!"

Alastor needed little convincing, his overstimulation outweighed by his desire. The cries that dripped from your mouth were sweeter than the honey and slick between your legs," G-God-- God, mon amour-- FUCK!"

You were smiling deliriously as Alastor used your sensitive cunt to chase another high, head foggy and vision blurry. You could do nothing but whine and shake as you were not only fucked through your orgasm, but felt your loins boil with an impending, new release. You couldn't say a word as each thrust pushed a scream from your diaphragm, Alastor's own throes of pleasure mirroring yours. The both of you made eye contact, and for the first time in a long time you saw… Alastor wasn't smiling?

Alastor's brow was knit together, face hard and yet so flushed as his mouth hung open in a wide, desperate "O". You felt your walls flutter around Alastor, the sight almost as beautiful as his trademark smile. Hastily, Alastor pulled you up by your throat, squeezing as you were forced to face away… The growl that was rumbled into your ear did little to slow down your peak.

The smile that danced across your face was unmatched; you had gotten Alastor to completely melt into you, unable to keep his 'armor' on. He was drunk off of your body, and he was unable to hide just how much he wanted both of you to cum. You mentally cheered, unable to shake the feeling of victory as that tension in your belly snapped. You unleash a broken, primal scream as Alastor fills your womb with another load, his semen spilling out from your writhing cunt. Completely out of breath, both of your collapse to the floor. You were left gasping and wheezing as Alastor sunk into you deeper, fully sheathed and pressing into your cervix. The sensation just made you whimper into your afterglow, lips twitching as you both wound back down…

You both lay on the floor like this for a few moments-- hell, maybe for an hour-- trying to regain your bearings. Trembling hands caressed your body, while your own reached up to pet and stroke at soft, chestnut brown hair. A tired chuckle fills your ears as Alastor closes his eyes, a content sigh rolling off his chest.

"You never fail to amaze me. And, of course… you never fail to make me cum either," Alastor admits, a sheepish blush creeping across his face. You nod, your laughter just as meek," Y-Yeah… fuck, you… you did all the work," you quipped, feeling Alastor shake his head. He kissed at your shoulders, trailing them up your neck and to your heated cheeks.

"Darling, if anything deserves the praise, it would be your nethers… She put on quite a show." You lightly elbowed him in the ribs, the both of you laughing like teenagers," Or maybe your brain… for coming up with a delicious roleplaying scenario?"

You hum for a moment to contemplate, before sighing," Fair enough… I'll take that," you profess, looking up and back towards your exhausted partner," Alastor?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"Thank you again, for all of this... and-- sorry about slapping you earlier," you chuckle, your face burning under Alastor's sweet gaze. He seemed entirely unbothered, shrugging," Ahh, nothing but a passionate act in the heat of the moment. Think nothing of it-- as long as you don't mind me slapping this again~" You squeaked as your ass received a playful tap, like a friendly, sportsman’s slap of approval.

"Good job~"

You rolled underneath Alastor, his cock finally freed when you sprawled out onto your back. You invited him to lay his head on your chest, which he gladly accepted. You could feel the tension in his body dissipate the moment he laid down, his eyes fluttering closed. You brushed the hair away from his face, giggling at the adorable sight of your dopey, sleepy lover.

"Alastor... don't fall asleep on me, now. We still need to get back to the cabin." Alastor groaned, brow furrowing. Stubborn as a bull, he nuzzled into your chest face-first, sighing as your heartbeat lulled him," Just a few more minutes, dear… I don't believe either of us could stand, even if we wanted to."

You hummed, patting Alastor on the head as you conceded," Touché… But I blame you for that."

"And not our heated chase, dearest?"

You snort as you try not to laugh, belly aching from holding back," Fuck, that's fair... Maybe we can play a little closer to home next time?" You smile down at your partner as he adjusts himself. Finally, he came up for air as his chin settled between your breasts, his eyelids still heavy from exhaustion. 

"Oh sweetheart, where would the fun be in that? You know I love a good chase~" 

He moved further up, caging your body with his as he gave you a tender, quick kiss," You can run, hide, do whatever you like... as long as we both have fun, that's all that matters– our legs be damned..." You can't help but nod and laugh, pushing Alastor back into your bosom. Your sleepy beau can't help but hum in approval, your chest a warm, welcoming pillow. 

"You're right... that's all that matters. But really, I-- I love you, Alastor. I can’t help but thank you again. For all of this…" Your partner stills for a moment, a dark, intense flush coming across his face and neck. You can't help but laugh as he hides his face into your chest again, sighing dramatically," I love you too, mon ange... For now, I'll settle for saying it, as I'm far too tired to show you again right now..."

You chuckle as you crane your neck down, kissing his crown before letting your head thunk against the floor," You already show me more than enough, baby... More than you know." 

The silence is calming, even comfortable as the two of you find yourselves drifting off to sleep. Thankfully, the autumn heat and the union of your bodies was more than enough to keep you warm. Both of you allowed yourselves just one, brief nap while the crickets and cicadas harmonized outside the window... A perfect, peaceful conclusion to a passionate, relentless hunt. 

[honeyedmiller]

Ring | Joel Miller

pairing: husband!joel x wife!reader

warnings: tommy’s being a little shit lol, marriage, reader is unintentionally oblivious for a bit, no outbreak, reader is depicted to be shorter than joel, au where ellie is joel and reader’s adopted daughter but she’s only very briefly mentioned, smut (bathroom quickie), slight jealousy, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

word count: 2k

synopsis: Tommy teases Joel about you and him having marriage problems when he notices you aren’t wearing your ring.

quick one shot in honor of 700 followers??? oh my god?? i love u all sm thank you!!!

this was honestly kinda poorly written. forgive me :’)

“Hey big brother, what’s up with you and your girl?” Tommy asks, brows furrowed as he leans up against the counter next to Joel.

“Hell are ya talkin’ about, Tommy?” Joel continues to chop onions for the barbecue you guys were throwing today.

“Are you guys, I dunno, having marriage problems?” Tommy quirks a brow, and Joel halts his movements. He sets the knife down on the counter while averting his gaze up to his brother, expression clearly displaying pure annoyance.

Tommy might’ve bugged the shit out of Joel, but he knew he had good intentions. So why the hell would he be asking this?

“What makes you say that?” Joel crosses his arms over his chest now, waiting for Tommy to spew some bullshit at him.

“She’s not wearin’ her ring.” Tommy shrugs, and Joel’s permanent furrowed brow lines deepen even further.

“The hell she ain’t. She always wears her ring.” Joel argues back.

“Go see for yourself big brother.” Tommy gestures outside, where Joel pushes past him and slides open the glass door to find you at the cooler talking with some random new guy from the neighborhood. Joel noticed that he was trying to flirt with you, and being the naturally kindhearted and welcoming person you were, you didn’t catch on.

Joel also noticed that Tommy was right—you weren’t wearing your ring.

If there was one thing that Joel learned from you over the years you’ve been together and three years married, it was how to properly communicate his feelings. He used to be so closed off and would bottle everything up, letting stuff bother him until he became so distant.

You weren’t having any of that, though, so you sat him down one day and told him that you needed proper communication between you both. You were a saint with Joel, being so patient and kind to him as he was trying to unlearn his previous ways of shutting himself out from everyone around him when he didn’t exactly know how to communicate something.

Some days were harder than others, but ever the sweetheart you are, you never rushed him or got irritated when he couldn’t exactly seem to form his words to you. You just held him and kissed him repeatedly, letting him know it was okay and he could take his time.

This time around, he didn’t seem to have a single bit of a problem telling you what he was feeling. So, he walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your temple to show the man that was so clearly interested in you that you were taken.

“Hey darlin’.” Joel rasps into your ear, kissing your shoulder afterward.

“Hey baby. This is Dominic. He’s new to the neighborhood. Dominic, this is my husband, Joel.”

Joel sported a shit-eating grin when Dominic’s body went rigid at the word husband. Joel stuck his hand out to him, and Dominic apprehensively shook his hand. Joel’s grip was firmer than it regularly was, and Dominic flinched in the slightest.

“Thanks for keeping my beautiful wife some company while I got stuff ready for the grill.” Joel’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and you looked up at him with a quirked brow.

He offered you a tight-lipped smile when his gaze met yours, clearing his throat. “Can I steal you for a minute, baby?” He asks, arms possessively wrapping around your frame. You nod, confused as to why Joel was acting a bit strange suddenly.

He intertwines your hand with his, and you excuse yourself from Dominic as Joel led you into the house and up to your bedroom.

“What’s this about, Joel?” You question as he closes the bedroom door, locking it behind him.

“Where’s your wedding ring at, baby?” He asks, looking down at you. A glint of something flashes across his eyes, but you couldn’t put your finger on what.

“‘S in my jewelry box. I didn’t wanna lose it helping around the backyard today or swimming if I did, so I knew it would be safe in there instead. Why?” Your curiosity is piqued.

Joel slowly maneuvers himself past you and over to your jewelry box, opening the top of it to firstly find your wedding ring neatly placed.

He takes the ring out of the jewelry box and walks over to you, grabbing your left hand to slip it onto your ring finger once more. Right where it belongs, perfectly fitted. He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly.

“Tommy’s bein’ a little shit, as always. Came into the kitchen with assumptions that we were having ‘marriage problems’ because you weren’t wearing your ring.” He tsked, shaking his head.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed.

“Y’gotta stop letting Tommy get into your head, J. I love you, I’m yours, and I’m not going anywhere.” You reassured him, and his lips curled up in the slightest.

“I know baby, I just can’t help but feel jealous when I see another man flirting with my woman.”

“Jealous? Of who?” You were puzzled at Joel’s confession, resting a steady hand on his warm chest.

“That new neighbor. Dylan or whatever the fuck his name is.” Joel spat.

You had no idea Dominic was even flirting with you. You thought he was just being friendly. Fuck, maybe Joel was right. Maybe you are oblivious sometimes.

You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him down so his lips envelope yours. One hand of his is splayed over the small of your back while the other rests on the outside of your thigh, rubbing small circles into your exposed skin. The dress you were wearing today was just another distraction for Joel and a reminder that he needed to behave himself or else the whole neighborhood would hear you saying his name like a prayer on Sunday morning.

Joel’s cock stirred at the thought, and he groaned into the kiss. You pulled apart from him and moved your hands down to his chest again.

“C’mon cowboy, people are gonna wonder where we’re at.” You grin, going to the bedroom door to unlock it. You were about halfway down the hallway before Joel tugged you into the bathroom on your right side.

“They can wait.” He closed the door and pressed you up against it, locking the lock before smashing his lips to yours.

There was so much hunger behind his kiss. You felt slick start to pool onto your panties, the want in your core licking a flame up your body. You moan into the kiss, gripping the back of his head to mold yourself even further into him. It was nothing but teeth clashing, lips smacking, and fervor for one another as the kiss continued.

“Gotta make this quick, babydoll.” Joel finally broke the kiss as you softly whined, and he turned you around to move you in front of the wide mirror. You met his gaze through the reflection, nothing but hunger in his eyes.

He lifted up your dress and pulled your panties down your legs in one swift motion. His middle finger wasted no time in collecting the slick arousal between your legs, causing you to moan softly.

“Always so ready for me, baby.” Joel chuckled darkly as he brought his middle finger up to suck your arousal off of it. He looked you right into the reflection of your eyes as he did so. The sight was nearly pornographic.

You bite your lip and plead with your eyes; please please please just fuck me, Joel.

His middle finger made its way back down to your slick cunt before he pushed it into you, pumping languidly. He curled his thick finger to hit the spot that drove you wild, and you found yourself gripping onto the counter for dear life. You decided, though, that his finger just wasn’t enough in this moment.

“Please, J. I need you.”

“Need you too, baby.” Joel got the message clear as day, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper and jeans button in record time, pulling down the fabric along with his boxers. His painful erection sprung free, and he lined himself up with your throbbing, aching cunt.

He easily found home in you as he sunk to the hilt, groaning at how good you felt around him.

“Be a good girl for me and tell me who you belong to.” Joel’s voice was dark, teetering on the line of possessive. You found it hot, though.

“Y-Yours, Joel. ‘M all yours.” You can barely say your words as he starts to rock his hips, deliciously stretching you out every time his hips collided with your ass.

“That’s it, baby, mine. No one else’s. Perfect little pussy is mine, you’re mine, mine.” He gritted into your hair, pulling you back against him by your waist as he rocked his hips up into you. You leaned your head back on his shoulder, moaning his name softly.

“Gotta be quiet, baby, can’t have anyone hearin’ us now.” Joel kissed you sloppily to hide your lewd moans, hips snapping up into you.

“Fuck, Joel, feel s’good.” Your words start to mesh together like you’re absolutely cock drunk.

Joel bends you back down over the sink and gently wraps his hand around your throat, forcing you to look up into the mirror as he pounds into you from behind.

“So fuckin’ beautiful. Takin’ me so well, sweet girl. Been teasin’ me with this little dress on all day.” Joel lets go of your throat and slides his hand down to your front, rubbing your clit in fast, circular motions.

You barely have time to process that your body is about to give into Joel’s expert touch. You squeeze your eyes shut, jaw falling completely slack as you let out an accidental loud moan. Joel didn’t even stop you that time, because he himself was already on the brink of an orgasm.

“Cum with me, my love.” Joel groans into your ear. You both let go and just let it happen, praying that the music playing in the backyard is loud enough to cover your wanton moans as you both come down from your orgasms. Joel was reluctant to move out of you at first, but he couldn’t take the way you were clenched down on him anymore.

You were so fucking intoxicating and if it were his choice, he’d gladly be buried into your sweet, warm cunt all of the time.

Reality trickled back in around you both as he pulled out of you with a groan, both breathless and panting. After readjusting and redressing himself, he grabbed a washcloth from the cabinet above the toilet and wet it, wiping down the excess of his remnants on the apex of your inner thighs. He planted a kiss on the back of your thigh, pulling your panties up on you as he stood back up.

He helped fix your hair and readjusted you so you looked almost completely normal, albeit your face felt hot and you had a post-fuck look on your face.

He brought you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he kissed your hair.

“I love you, baby.” He murmurs softly, rocking you for a minute.

“I love you too.” Your reached your left hand up to hook onto his forearm that was wrapped around you, giving it a squeeze. Your ring glinted in the sunlight that pooled into the bathroom window, and Joel smiled happily.

“We’ll continue this later tonight, baby. Maybe Sarah and Ellie can spend the night at a friend’s house tonight.”

Your lips curl into a smile at his suggestion, and you lean up to kiss his cheek.

“Let’s get back out to the party.” He pats your ass and opens the door, coming out after you. You make your way down the stairs, Joel hot on your trail.

Tommy gives Joel a knowing look of ‘I know exactly what you two were up to.’

Joel scoffs at Tommy and grumbles as he moves past his younger brother.

“Marriage problems my ass.”

tag list: @party-hearses ; @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @cool-iguana

[tsumuus]

first date headcanons | my hero academia

a/n these are just some ideas on how i personally think these characters would ask you out on a date + the actual date. not proofread

characters izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugou, shoto todoroki

masterlist

izuku midoriya

spend a while preparing before asking you out

seeking advice from friends like uraraka or iida

they would encourage him to just be himself

he'd want the setting in which he does to feel special but not too overwhelming

determined yet still a bit nervous

lowk see him just writting a letter

it would be neat and you can tell how much thought went into it

for the actually dtae

he'd take into account your interests and preferences

super organized

it would be something casual yet fun

like a walk in a park

or visiting a cafe

any kind of place with a relaxed environment in which the two of you could both talk and get to know each other better

like prepare a small picnic at a nearby park

he'd bring homemade sandwiches and snacks

he;d be slightly embarssed but proud of his effort

pick a spot in the park in which you could lay a blanket down and just watch the sunset

he loves to make you smile

and all the little things he does like pick up a dandelion for you to make a wish, tuck your hair behind your ear, or just the sweet words can;t help but make you smile

once the suns set he'd suggest a quick stroll through the city, enjoying the lights and the atmosphere

he'd more at ease by this point

and holds your hand if youre comfy w it

on the walk back he would immediately ask if you guys could hang out again soon

katsuki bakugou

honest and straightforward

doesn;t beat aroudn the bush

he's confident, and if theres any ounce of nervousness in him you wouldn;t be able to tell

but his usual brash demeanor would slightly soften

but he's still direct

he'd do it when youre alone

he'd pull you aside, away from others, to avoid making a scene

makes it clear that he's serious about this

his way of thinking is simple

he likes you and wants to spend time with you, no need to complicate it

would prefer a lowkey setting for the date, rather than flashy activities

like just hanging out in one of your dorms would be enough for him

but he knows you deserve more than that

but he still focuses on just spending time with you

getting to know each other in a relaxed setting

given his competitive nature, maybe go to a small and lowkey bowling alley with a small arcade

preferably one thats not well known and popular

he'd enjoy the challenge in the activities and the chance to see your playful side

don't think he'd let you win, he'd a try hard and will attempt to beat you at everything

throughout the date, he would show subtle protective gestures

like walking on the side of the sidewalk thats closer to the road

ugh what a man

while he may not be the best with words, he would engage in all your conversations with honesty and openness

during quiet moments, where he lets his gaurd down, you get to see a glimpse of his geniune personality

on the way back to the dorms, as he asks to see you again, he'd be less gruff but still determined and direct

hes serious about you

as you say goodbye, he can;t help but linger outside your dorm for a little

his expression soft with a small smile

shoto todoroki

would take him a while to even realize he liked you lol

but when he does

he's calm about it

yet he still takes some time to reflect on his feelings

ensuring that he truly does want to take this next step

he wants to make sure that this is 100% the right move for the both of you

would choose a quiet, private moment to ask you out

he values sincerity and wants to ensure you are comfortable

he'd appraoch you with gentleness that reflects his sincerity

he would be calm and genuine, showing his true intentions

his idea of a perfect first date is simple get elegant

he'd suggest starting the date off with a walk in a garden or park

someplace that would likeley have no distractions that takes away his time with you

after the walk

he'd take you to a charming little tea place

the calm atmosphere allowing for deeper conversations between you both

he wants to learn everything about you that he doesn;t already know

whether thats going on for hours about your favorite books, music, hobbies

he wants to share parts of his life that are meaningful to him ofcourse, but would rather learn about you first

there would be quiet moments throughout your date, but he enjoys those

he seems to enjoy your presence more than anyone elses

if its chilly he'd offer you his scarf or jacket

his actions speaking volumes about his caring nature

he's the best listener

he values your guys connection and is eager to learn more about you

as the day comes to an end and you two walk back to the dorms, your conversations continue

what he has with you is completely new to him

he's never wanted to get to knwo someone more than he has with you

and he expresses this clearly when asking about your availability for future dates

[lazycats-stuff]

Remember when u wrote batbro who's Australian? Now u HAVE TO do Italian! This time with Italian toddler batbro, please little Italian people with their small hand gestures are so funny and so fricking adorable to me I'm tearing up just thinking about it

Yeah, Italians are funny and adorable, but I think it would work better if it's a teen instead of a toddler, so I have to modify that part, I just think it would fit better. Also, 1.3k, thank you guys and yes, I know this is a little bit short, but I do want to get this out for you guys. Also, Italians are my neighboring country lol, so if any Italians are reading this, hi!

Summary: (Y/N) is Italian. The family can't deal with him.

Warnings:

Bruce, yet again, found out he had another biological child. Another son. Bruce loved his sons, but he could get a daughter for once. Someone who was less chaotic to a certain degree. Turns out, when Bruce had a one night stand with an Italian model, she got pregnant and she didn't say anything to Bruce about his son for 13 years.

Bruce found out when she was put in jail. Bruce didn't know what happened, but he was more numb from the news that he has another son. Not to mention, man with a heavy Italian accent calling him in the middle of the night telling him about his son and Bruce having to call his lawyers...

The amount of paperwork that it took for Bruce to bring (Y/N) to America is nuts. Sure, you have to make sure that both governments know where the child is. The amount of connections Bruce had to pull just to get (Y/N) to the USA is actually insane. Thankfully, (Y/N) would soon get his citizenship and he would be able to keep his Italian citizenship.

Thankfully, both the US and Italy allow people to have multiple citizenships so (Y/N) could go back to Italy without any problems. Bruce and the others need to get visas. (Y/N) laughed at them when he heard that.

But hey, when they go to Italy, they will have a translator. And it's incredible to listen to (Y/N) not knowing English really. They weren't mocking him by any means, but they were crying of laughter a few times when there was some English problems.

But there were another things they didn't know about Italians. For example, (Y/N) was touchy in conversations. And he was closer to them, more in their space. None of them minded them, it was actually nice how closer he was to them because Americans prefer to keep their distance it seems.

And a thing that seemed like are they European or gay thing is the fact they have their little pecks on the cheek. It wasn't anything intimate by any means and it's a way to say hi to guests. Men do it as well so it wasn't gay per say... But then again... Bruce knew that Italy had a different way than Americans.

And by God, (Y/N) had so many cultural shocks. So many. The sizes of food in America... And (Y/N) will forever fight the notion that pineapple belongs on the pizza. He shall defend his Italian heritage and cuisine.

Also, while on the topic of the sizes, everything in America is huge. Cars, buildings... (Y/N) thought that in a way it lacked warmth. And (Y/N) didn't even want to think about the prices of medication and healthcare here. He knows that Bruce is rich, but still... My God.

Another thing was the fact that kind of annoyed Bruce and Alfred was the amount of espressos that (Y/N) can drink in a day. Tim loved him a lot for it, but Bruce and Alfred weren't so happy. So many espressos wasn't really helpful. But hey.

But one iconic thing that can make you tell who is an actual Italian or not, is the famous hand gesture. They still remember the time when (Y/N) was talking on the phone with a family member who lives in Italy and it seemed that the entire family was on the other side of the phone.

He was talking fast, phone on his ear while he was going to the kitchen to drink some water and get some snacks. They all watched in silence as (Y/N) talked loudly, even as he was opening the fridge for some snacks.

And that's when they saw it. The famous hand gesture, in between some passionate talk about something and yelling over the phone. He seemed annoyed, but there was a smile on the teen's face as he was talking.

Once he was finished, he joined his family at the table. Jason has decided to learn Italian. Bruce has silently agreed. Damian was already prepared to learn. Basically, the entire family has decided to learn Italian and help (Y/N) with English in return.

Another thing that made adapting to the American culture more difficult was the fact that talking and kind of interrupt one you are talking too. In Italy, that is not really considered rude since they are passionate about talking and just overall talking over.

In America, that is considered rude. He didn't like it that much, but understood. People won't like him that much and he would be considered a rude person if he interrupts other people. His family understood that it's not easy, but hey. You adapt to the culture and move on.

But still, it hurt a little bit.

And (Y/N) never understood one thing as well. Something called Italian Americans. He couldn't comprehend calling yourself Italian American, but you don't speak Italian and you are not connected to the culture of your other part. It was weird to him. No hate towards them, but to him it was weird. How can you call yourself a person who belongs to a certain culture if you don't know it?

But hey, no hate. As long as they don't insult Italy and the Italian culture, no hate.

And one more thing that no one prepares you for is the fact that you miss your home country. Despite Alfred doing the best Italian dishes known to men, but it just didn't taste the same. It didn't have that taste of Italy. Yes, it sounds weird, but it's true. Italy is one hell of a country with a rich history.

Oh the nostalgia is a worst feeling ever. Sure, it makes you feel happy and remember the great times you had., but sad at the same time. Bruce saw it, he wasn't blind.

He was sad for his son. So what does Bruce do? Summer holidays are approaching and Bruce had one great idea for everyone. 2 weeks in Italy, all paid for. He just needed to tell (Y/N) when and where they will be going.

And Bruce told him a few moments later, (Y/N) screamed from happiness and jumped into Bruce's arms, hugging him like a koala bear.

" Grazie Bruce! " (Y/N) screamed. Bruce didn't mind the use of his first name because (Y/N) was still getting used to the fact that he has a dad.

" Ti amo Bruce. " (Y/N) said as he stood back down at the floor. Bruce smile widely as he knew exactly what first two words meant.

" Love you too son. "

(Y/N) let out a woo as he went back to his room. Oh he will stuff himself with all of the Italian food he can eat and find. And he will go to Rome and the Vatican. No one is going to stop him. And not to mention, he will have to visit his family. They would never forgive him by any means and you don't want to piss off an Italian family.

[corroded-hellfire]

I just realized it's them. Eddie, the Reader, and my kids.

It would be funny if they were watching the movie and Eddie teases them that they look like kittens and some say it's actually them as a family.

I needed to write this. Was very compelled to write about Eliza making everyone watch this movie lol. I hope you like what my crazy brain came up with!

Previously talked about on this ask too 😻

Words: 1.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Family movie nights have become rarer as the boys have gotten older, but the tradition hasn’t been altogether lost. Once in a while you can wrangle the boys down for an evening of snacks and family bonding. 

Luke is laid out on the floor as per usual, on his stomach and pounding down Doritos and Mountain Dew like a man starved, not a 14-year-old boy who just had three large helpings of baked ziti not an hour ago. Ryan occupies the La-Z-Boy lounger that is effectively known as Wayne’s chair, it being the older man’s favorite spot in the household. The older Munson brother’s attention is currently half on the movie and half on the girl he likes at school. 

Eliza is sitting cozy on the couch between you and Eddie. At some point during the movie, she’ll end up snuggled against either you or her father, but right now she’s content enough to sit on her own, her pink unicorn blanket spread out over her lap and little legs. 

Eddie is slouched against an arm of the couch but has his arm draped along top, the tips of his fingers just barely able to brush over the back of your neck. So, of course, that’s what he’s been doing since the movie started. You sit hip to hip with your daughter, a bowl of popcorn balanced on your thigh that she and you keep taking kernels from.

As the song Everybody Wants to Be a Cat ends, Eddie smiles to himself. He sees his children in all three of the troublemaking kittens that were just singing and dancing around on screen. 

Ryan notices and raises an eyebrow at his father. “The singing cartoon cats making ya happy, Dad?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and flicks a pretzel in his eldest child’s direction.

“No, smartass. I was just thinking how they remind me of you guys.”

Luke rolls on his side so he can look at his dad over his shoulder.

“Did I grow a tail I wasn’t aware of? I’d like to think you’d keep me updated on that kind of thing, Dad.”

“You’re the little wiseass cat,” Eddie says, gesturing to the screen with his chin. “The orange one that tries to act all tough.”

“Toulouse,” Eliza says, as if her father should’ve known his name and it offends her that he didn’t.

“And he’s the one who’s most like the dad,” you point out with a shrug. It’s no secret that Luke is basically Eddie’s twin.

“He’s not their dad!” Eliza says with a small huff. Her parents are disappointing her with their Disney knowledge tonight. 

“My point still stands,” you say before pressing a kiss to the top of your daughter’s head.

Luke shoves another handful of Doritos in his mouth and goes back to looking at the screen.

“I’m not a ginger,” Luke says, though with his mouth being full it sounded more like, “M’not a jinjuh.”

“Who’s he?” Eliza asks as she points to the black and white cat on the screen.

“I thought you knew all the names,” Eddie says. Eliza rolls her eyes, looking identical to her father as she does it.

“No. Luke is Toulouse so who Berlioz?”

“Oh, okay,” Eddie says now that his daughter has cleared up his confusion. “Definitely Ryan. He’s the quietest one but he can still be mischievous.”

“Silent but deadly,” Ryan says.

“Like his farts,” Luke adds, making Eliza giggle.

“Who me?” Eliza asks, looking up at her father with the same big brown eyes that she inherited from him. 

“Marie, of course,” Eddie says as he musses her curls. That name he knows by now. “You’re the spoiled, pampered, sweet girl of the gang.”

The word “sweet” doesn’t seem to matter to Eliza, only focusing on the first two. Her little round face pinches up in a frown; her brows coming together over her dark eyes and her lips forming into a puckering pout. You try, and almost fail, to contain your laughter as your daughter stares at your husband with the cutest menacing look you’ve ever seen. 

“What?” Eddie asks when she doesn’t look away.

“Not a spoiled kitty,” she says. 

“You asked!” Eddie scrunches up his face and sticks his tongue out at her. She does the same in return, proving that your husband is as mature as a three-year-old. 

Luke finishes the Doritos in his mouth and wipes his cheesy hands off on his White Sox shirt.

“You know, I think our whole family is like theirs,” he muses.

“What?” Ryan asks. By the tone of his voice it sounds like he’s over everyone talking and just wants to watch the movie in silence again.

“Yeah,” Luke says and gestures to the screen in front of him. “Stray, scruffy alley cat gets the pretty, sophisticated girl that’s out of his league?”

As unsubtly as possible, Luke jerks his head back towards you and Eddie on the couch.

“Hey!” you pout. “That’s not true.”

“Pretty much is,” Eddie admits with a laugh. 

You move to scoot closer to your husband, little Eliza getting caught in the middle. The small girl hisses like a cat when she gets squished between her parents.

“Jesus,” Ryan groans as he rubs a hand over his eyes. Any form of overt affection between you and your husband has been annoying the teen boy lately. Eddie finds it amusing and whenever the two of you are alone your husband quietly surmises to you that your son is more annoyed by the fact that he can’t express the same sort of affections to the girl he likes. It makes sense since Ryan has always been one to express his love physically with hugs and such.

Now, Eddie presses a smacking kiss to the side of your head—almost to spite Ryan’s attitude— 

before looking down at your daughter squeezed between the two of you.

“I think you even look like a kitty!” he tells her.

Eliza pushes her way to her feet on the couch with a huff. Watching her trying to stand in the cramped space has you tucking in your lips to avoid laughing. Once up, Eliza shoves at her dad’s shoulder as she’s seen her brothers do to one another many times.

“My little kitty!” Eddie teases, finding her reaction comical. He snatches Eliza and holds her in his lap as he tries to press kisses all over her face. Stubble scratches and rubs against Eliza’s soft skin, making her squeal and wiggle around in Eddie’s grip.

“If we’re all cats, do you think another family will adopt me?” Ryan asks in a sullen adolescent tone.

“No,” Luke answers simply. Thank God he hasn’t become a brooding, moody teenager—yet, anyway.

Eliza manages to slip free from her father’s grip and runs over to jump on Ryan’s lap.

“Save me!” she wails.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got ya,” Ryan says as she snuggles into his lap, tucking her head beneath her eldest brother’s chin.

Eddie takes advantage of the newly empty space between you, and he pulls you flush up against his side. You give Eddie a soft kiss before laying your head on his shoulder.

“Ick,” Eliza complains, looking over at you on the couch.

“Yeah, ick,” Ryan echoes.

“Wasn’t he the one who wanted us to have a baby practically as soon as we got together? Now he thinks it’s gross that I kiss you,” Eddie says softly to you, but not soft enough that Luke didn’t hear.

“Yeah, but now we got what we wanted,” Luke says with a shrug. 

“Maybe now you guys can get fixed,” Ryan says with a smirk. 

Eddie opens his mouth to retort but Eliza holds her arms in the air, an immediate call for silence.

“Shhhh! This good part!”

She snuggles back against her big brother, who sticks his tongue out at his dad.

Casually, Eddie wraps his arm around your back so he can flip his oldest son the bird without Eliza seeing. Ryan just laughs and goes back to watching the movie, curious to see what’s so special about this part. The sixteen-year-old’s laughter brings a smile to your face. You haven’t heard it as often as you’d like to lately.

After Eddie situates his arm around your shoulders, you snuggle up to him and drape Eliza’s unicorn blanket over your lap. The Disney movie is not as enticing to you as your husband is, so you press a kiss just below Eddie’s ear before whispering to him.

“I love our kittens. No matter how ferocious they like to pretend they are.”

Eddie chuckles his agreement.

“The cutest little feral monsters around.”

[azrielsdove]

Hi!! I was hoping I could request something for Azriel or Cassian. I saw this post somewhere about someone being super calm and content in prison, maybe she was taken along with the home carver because of her powers. I’m thinking she is kinda like an old god but instead her powers feed off sacrifice and while she doesn’t want that life, she’s too powerful to be free until Feyre/Rhys lets her out because Feyre thinks she won’t hurt anyone. Then she can find her mate with Az or Cass?? And it’s revealed that she hates her powers because the person has to matter to her for the sacrifice/power. and she could’ve been part of the war that Mor fought in and went kinda crazy after because she lost that person but is fine now that it’s been so long.

You can change whatever if you end up doing it, I just thought it was a cool concept. It also does not have to be that detailed lol but thank you if you do it!!

Old God: Cassian x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Some Alcohol

***

“No, Feyre. It’s too dangerous.” Rhys didn’t look up from the paperwork on his desk while he spoke.

“Have you gone down there recently? She is kind, Rhys. You said to not trust the Bone Carver as well, and look how beneficial he was to us!” Feyre was pacing angrily around the room, having formed an attachment to the Death Wielder.

“We were in war, that was a dire situation. You want to release her for no other reason than you think she won’t harm anyone.” Rhys ran a hand over his face, looking up to his mate. “The beings in the Prison are there for a reason, Feyre. We can not go around releasing whoever we please without justification.”

Feyre huffed, crossing her arms and facing her husband. “You should go speak to her, Rhys. Understand what I mean. Amren came from the Prison, did she not?”

“Amren is different.”

“How?!” Feyre did not like arguing with her mate, but something was telling her it was wrong to keep the so-called old god down there. Especially after the war, after the Bone Carver sacrificed himself to fight for them. She knew the Prison held some of the nastiest beings Prythian had to offer, and that trusting any of them was a risk. Yet something was different about this one, she just knew it.

“Amren got herself out of the Prison. You have no idea how powerful the Death Wielder is. She is unlike anything you have ever seen.” Rhys stood from his desk, crossing the room to hold Feyre’s hands in his own. “It is too risky.”

“So if the Death Wielder got herself out, that would be fine?” Feyre shot at him, upset that he wasn’t agreeing with her.

“That’s not what i’m saying.”

“That’s what you’re insinuating! She isn’t what you think. Please, Rhys, just go talk to her.” Feyre pleaded, holding tight onto his hands. He sighed, reaching up to brush a piece of her hair back.

“Alright. I will go tomorrow evening, and if what you say proves true we can further discuss a release.”

***

Rhys did not enjoy coming to the Prison. He especially did not enjoy coming here to meet with you.

Unfortunately, he would do anything to make his mate happy.

He reached the door to your cell, placing his hand on the heavy stone. He breathed in deeply as he stepped forward, walking through the door like it didn’t exist. He looked around the room, shocked at how bright it was.

“High Lord,” you spoke, standing to greet him. “What brings you down?”

Rhys carefully looked at you, watching for any signs of a trick. “The High Lady requests to have you released. Do you know why she would ask such a thing?”

You gave a small smile, having grown quite fond of Feyre. “She visits me rather often, your mate. Brings me things,” you gestured to the faelights above you, the warm pillows and blankets on the floor. “She is different than any other. Full of hurt, yes, but an undying hope runs through her veins.”

“Are you coming to care for her?” The question was an accusation, thinly veiled anger behind his words.

“If you are asking if I plan to sacrifice her to escape, High Lord, then you would be mistaken. You should know better than anyone that I do not revel in my power.” There was an infinite sadness in your voice, an age-old pain.

“How am I to trust you?”

You shrugged. “I wouldn’t expect you to. We saw what happened with the war 500 years ago, what I had to do to save so many. Those kind of choices do not come without consequences, High Lord.”

Rhysand pondered over your words, violet eyes reading every movement you made. “You sacrificed the love of your life to save everyone. That is not something to be frowned upon.”

You gave a sad smile. “Yet here I am, locked in this pit of despair with the worst Prythian has to offer. Do not credit me, High Lord. I was willing to let the world suffer. He convinced me to do it, to use him to activate my power. I did not wish to do so.”

Rhys hummed, seeming to understand the level of devotion you held for your old lover. “I could understand. I would do anything to protect Feyre. Do you understand what I mean?”

You did. He would not allow your release from this prison, not even if you may be a harmless being these days. He would rather you suffer needlessly down here for millennia than risk anything harming his mate.

***

Feyre was angry. No, she was furious. Rhys had informed her that he would not be releasing the Death Wielder, even if he had picked up nothing bad in their meeting. She left his office without speaking, upset that he was being so difficult.

However, Feyre was not so naive as to not think her husband would try to stop her. She had planned for this. After all, he had made her High Lady, his equal. She had every right to make the call herself.

She found Cassian easily, purchasing donuts at one of the bakeries in Velaris. “I need your help.” Feyre was straight to the point, eyeing her friend as he stopped mid-bite.

“Uh, okay?” He said, placing his donuts back into their bag. “With what?”

“I need you to take me to the Prison.”

He laughed.

Feyre scowled, glaring at the General. “I’m being serious, Cassian.” She stood tall, letting power radiate from her. “As your High Lady, I command it.”

His laughter ceased, face growing serious. “As you wish, then.” Cassian knew better than to question her any further.

***

The pair stood outside the gates of the Prison, the ominous darkness beckoning them in. “May I ask who we are here to see?” Cassian pried, wanting to be prepared for what they would encounter.

“The Death Wielder.” Feyre didn’t give him a chance to protest, marching down into the endless dark. Cassian followed dutifully, wondering why his High Lady was so determined to meet with her. Feyre pushed in without hesitation when they reached the door to her cell. Cassian went after, growing more curious by the second.

“High Lady,” you greeted, welcoming the female you almost considered a friend. Not that many had ever gotten close enough to you for such a title. Feyre greeted you by your name, something very few had ever called you. “The High Lord was here as well, i’m sure you know.”

You could feel the simmer of displeasure come from the High Lady. “Yes. I’ve chosen to disregard his opinion on this matter. I do not think it is right to keep you down here.”

You gave a soft smile, lightly surveying the room that had caged you for so long. “Ah, but this is my home now, isn’t it? Where I came from has long been gone, anyone I ever knew with it. What else is there for me? It is no harm to keep me here, truly.”

Feyre huffed, seemingly having an argument in her head. “I will never force you to leave, you know that. I simply believe there is more for you out there, out in my home.”

You moved closer to the young female, inspired by her endless hope for all that is good. “Who is to say your people would allow me to walk among them? The old gods are not favored in your time, especially not one who’s known for Death.” It was then that you noticed her companion, the long haired male standing in the shadows. You cocked your head, surveying him curiously. Something about him was…different than any others you had met.

“This is Cassian,” Feyre introduced, waving him forward. He came into the light, nodding his head to you.

“Cassian,” you mused, tasting the name on your tongue. You observed his armor, his wings, the strong power radiating from him. “The General. How do you feel about your High Lady’s idea?”

He seemed shocked that you would ask for his opinion, looking carefully between you and Feyre. “I trust what my High Lady thinks best.”

“The diplomatic answer,” you hummed, moving to look at him closer. “That is not what I asked. What would you, as an innocent in this world, think of someone like me wandering through your city?”

He blinked at you before clearing his throat. “I would not consider myself an innocent. If the High Lady deemed you safe, I would trust her. As would many in this court.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “You are all innocents to me.” You turned back to Feyre, a smile ghosting your lips. “Very well, High Lady. If you deem it fit, I will accept the release you are granting me.”

***

You stood with the General on the outskirts of Velaris, feeling uncomfortable for the first time in a long time. You had grown content in the Prison, safe from your power. Your deadly, terrible power.

“What would you like to do?” He was watching you, hand on one of his many blades. You felt vulnerable by that action, a reminder that you will always be perceived as Death herself.

“I do not know.” Your voice was quiet, a weakness pulling through that you did not enjoy. You were easily the most powerful being here, there was no reason to feel so small. Cassian noticed the change in you, the contrast from the ancient confidence he encountered in the Prison.

“Hey,” he soothed, releasing the hold on his weapons, “no one has to know who you are.” You wanted to give him a thankful smile, but the darkness in your mind was clouding around you.

“No,” you whispered, “they’ll know. Perhaps this was a mistake.” You turned to face the mountains behind you, feeling the dirt beneath your feet. It had been so long since you had seen the outside, since the fresh air had touched your skin. You startled when you felt gentle fingers around your wrist, whipping your head around to meet the kind eyes of the General.

“Come with me. My own friend Amren is like you, and she lives here happily.” There was a calm in his voice that washed away any apprehension you felt, something about him making you feel like you could trust what he said. “Stay with me.”

Your heart ticked at his words as he pulled you down to the glittering city below.

***

You had spent a few weeks with Cassian, learning all Velaris had to offer. The High Lord had come to find the two of you early on, angry that you allowed his wife to set you free.

“She is the High Lady, her word is as equal as yours, is it not?” You had asked, pointing out his hypocrisy. He had grumbled at your words, but allowed you to continue on.

“As long as you are with Cassian, I will accept that you roam free. Do not make me regret this,” he had threatened, still not trusting you.

You couldn’t blame him.

You knew he had an underlying fear that you were growing too close to Feyre, that you may grow close to Cassian. You didn’t know how to explain that you would never use them to activate your power, that you would never allow anyone to become that special to you again.

Unfortunately, you were growing worried yourself. Cassian drew you into him, a simmering desire to learn everything there was to know about the male. His stories captivated you, his jokes made you laugh in ways you never had. He pulled out the true version of you, the being beneath the danger.

You needed to stop this.

Cassian had a little cabin on the edge of the city, a cozy place he had leant to you. He stayed with you most nights, sleeping on the couch while you took the bed. You knew it was due to his High Lord commanding it, but a part of you wished he was staying for you. That he enjoyed being around you as much as you did around him.

“We are going out tonight,” he informed you, tossing a dress onto the bed. You looked up at him in shock, unsure if he was joking or not. “It is time you let loose a little, enjoy yourself.” There was a teasing smile on his lips, a brightness in his eyes. You pulled the blood-red fabric to you, fingers trailing over the delicate fabric. You had never ‘gone out.’

“I don’t,” you started, looking up to him, “I’ve never, I, what if I embarrass you?” You tripped over your words, heat rising in your cheeks.

He gave a reassuring, slightly cocky smile. “You can’t be any worse than Az, trust me.”

***

You were nervous standing outside Rita’s, a cold intruder on a warm night. You hadn’t yet been around so many fae in such a tight setting, the worry that they would notice who you were drowning your mind. You tugged the bottom of your dress down a little, fidgeting with the hem. “Stop,” Cassian chided, grabbing your hand in his. “It’s going to be fine.”

He dragged you up the steps into the bustling bar, making his way through the crowd to a table in the back. His friends were all there, the High Lords stare cold as he noticed your hand in Cassian’s. You quickly pulled away from him, ignoring the look he sent you. He slid into the booth and you sat next to him, careful to keep your distance.

“Drinks?” The stunning blonde you immediately recognized asked, a knowing look in her eyes.

“She needs something strong, Mor.” Cassian answered for you, a laugh in his voice. You nodded in confirmation to the Morrigan, the sight of her bringing up memories of the war all those centuries ago. You were going to need several strong drinks.

“So, Death Wielder, how have you enjoyed your time in my court?” Rhysand asked, your title coming out like an insult.

“It is a very beautiful place, High Lord,” you answered honestly, having grown to quite enjoy the city.

“Hmm.” He leaned across the table, hands clasping in front of him. “And how have you been enjoying my brother?” You looked at him with wide eyes, taken aback by his accusation.

“That’s quite enough, Rhys. We are here to have a nice night, not interrogate our guests.” Feyre cut in, shooting you an apologetic look. Rhys mumbled something about not trusting you as he sat back in his seat.

Cassians hand found your knee, thumb rubbing soft circles into your skin. “Don’t listen to him,” he said, loud enough for High Lord to hear. “He doesn’t think I can handle myself around you.”

You flushed at his words, feelings running through you that you hadn’t felt in centuries. You were thankful that Mor chose that moment to return, gladly taking your drink from her. You busied yourself with it, allowing normal conversation to resume around the table.

Cassian did not move his hand.

You were feeling a pleasant buzz from the drink, a state of relaxation coming over you. You found yourself giggling at something Cassian said, leaning further into him. He smiled back at you, his hand sliding a little higher as your dress began to ride up. For the first time in 500 years, you were able to feel a sense of happiness.

“Better be careful, General,” came a slurring voice, all eyes turning to the fae that had approached the table. “Death here will be quick to sacrifice you next. You should know better than anyone that she lures her lovers into traps, killing them to make her power stronger.” You froze in place, terror spreading through your body.

Cassian moved the hand from your knee, a split-second heartbreak occurring inside you before you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders. “Maybe you shouldn’t speak on what you don’t know.” His voice was hard, causing the other male to take a step back. “Do you wish to continue telling me about things that you think I, General of the Night Court Armies, do not already know? Do you truly believe you know more than me?” The male slunk back, angry and embarrassed.

“Don’t say we didn’t try to warn you.” He shot out before disappearing into the crowd, leaving a thick silence over the group. You took the opportunity to slide out of the booth, taking off for the door. You heard a faint call of your name, along with Rhysand calling his brother back to the table. You pushed out of the building, sucking in deep mouthfuls of air. A horrible choking sensation was taking over your throat and lungs, a full panic controlling your body. You stumbled down the street, blind to the concerned expressions of the passerby.

You needed to go. You couldn’t stay here any longer, you couldn’t risk Rhysand putting you back in the Prison now that you knew free life again. You ripped the heels off your feet, discarding them where they landed. You began running, bare feet slapping the pavement below. You felt the skin tear as you ran, too soft for the rough ground.

You didn’t care.

You ran all the way to the cabin, lungs burning. You grabbed your few meager possessions, mostly clothes Cassian had bought you. You stuffed them into a small bag, not noticing the tears running down your face until they splashed onto the fabric. When was the last time you cried?

Loud, shaking sobs overtook your body. You sunk to the ground by the bed, curling your arms around your knees and burying your head. How could you be so stupid? You knew better than to fall for him, for anyone. You cursed yourself, the crushing weight of despair becoming too much to handle. You felt tendrils of your power come out, wrapping themselves around your skin. It burned where they touched, an anguished scream tearing from you.

A voice was yelling your name, holding tight to your arms. You cried harder, certain that the burning of your power must be hurting them too. “Leave me!” You screamed, the pain of the last 500 years ripping from your body. The voice calling for you was growing hectic, desperate. You couldn’t focus on anything except the tendrils of power on you, certain they were melting the skin off your bones.

You felt arms cradle your body, lifting you off the ground. You knew you were suddenly outside, a sensation like flying taking over. The wind was harsh against you, a welcome cold to the burning power suffocating you. You felt a jolt as whoever was carrying you hit the ground, more voices joining in the chaos. You heard one stick out above the rest, and then an endless darkness took over your mind.

***

Your head was heavy, your body was sore, and your throat was terribly dry. You pried your eyes open, wincing at the daylight flooding the room. You blinked a few times, looking around at what you could see. You didn’t recognize anything about the bedroom, but you did know the large male passed out in the chair next to the bed.

Cassian.

He shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be here. You needed to get out, get away from him. You forced yourself up, crying out in pain as you did. He shot up out of the chair and was at your side in a second. “No, lay back down,” he commanded, pushing you down gently.

“I need to go,” you croaked out, voice hoarse.

“Why do you think that?” He asked, looking at you like he already knew the answer.

You felt tears prick the corner of your eyes. “I don’t want to put you in danger.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. “Never,” he whispered into your hair, “will you hurt me.”

You couldn’t help the tears spilling out as you clutched onto his arms, wanting to stay here forever. “I killed him,” you sobbed, holding tighter onto Cassian.

“You didn’t,” he argued, “he sacrificed himself. For you, for all of Prythian and beyond. If we had lost that war, none of us would be here. He knew you didn’t want to do it, that you wouldn’t do it. He made that choice, not you.” You cried, shaking in his arms at the memory of your past love. He had been your heart, your soul. You will never forget the pain and anguish that came from losing him, all so you could use your power to its full extent.

A curse, your power was. Only able to be used if someone you loved died. Died for the sake of the power. You despised it, you despised the title it had earned you. Death Wielder. You had never wanted to be that, to become a horror story. To be classified as an ‘old god’, a force to be reckoned with. You had been a gentle spirit before the discovery of your power, before you were told how to use it.

You shook your head. “I won’t risk it, Cass. What if war comes again?”

“If it does, you will be better trained. Rhys has been doing some research while you were out, talking to some of the other High Lords. They believe your power is misunderstood.” You stilled, pulling back to look at him.

“Misunderstood?”

He nodded. “He believes you can access it without a sacrifice. With the way it was acting when I found you that night, I think he may be right.”

You remembered the horrible pain of your power then, looking down at your arms. You were surprised to see they were bare, no damage from the force of whatever you released. “It hurt me,” you said slowly, eyes moving back up to Cassian’s.

“He believes with proper training it won’t hurt. All we can do is try.” He raised a hand to your face, thumb brushing away the remaining tears. “I don’t think I can live without you.” Your breath caught at the honesty in his words.

“I don’t think I can live without you either,” you said, voice barely a whisper. His gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips, a heavy tension growing in the air.

“Please, may I kiss you?” He asked, voice soft.

You nodded.

He leaned down, cupping your face as his lips touched yours. The kiss was slow, hesitant. You hadn’t kissed anyone in over five centuries, certain you would be abysmal. Cassian lead you perfectly, bringing your head up to create a better angle. You sighed softly, lips parting just enough for his tongue to delve in. He took his time learning every inch he could reach, kissing you breathless and then some.

You pulled apart, gasping for air. Your eyes caught his blow-out ones, and a string of gold erupted between the two of you. Mate, mate, mate, sang around your head, everything except Cassian disappearing. You could tell he felt it too, hands tightening on you. He came closer again, lightly kissing your lips.

“Mine, aren’t you?” He said. You smiled, a real, true smile. You kissed him again, hands sliding under his shirt, needing to touch him.

“Yours, always.”

***

I hope I was able to pull off what you wanted!! It took me a while to figure out how to write this. Please let me know what you think <3

[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (01)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

a/n; AND THE FIC IS OUT 💃🏻✨

ngl, i posted up the teaser at around 1am just to see how it'd go (was planning on deleting it right afterwards if nothing showed up). i woke up like 6 or 7 hours later and holy shit yall - i wasn't expecting it to get so much attention or blow up 😭 and it was just a TEASER 😭✋🏻 i've also gone through the small notes section of the taglist form (my favorite is the one that said they like my brain lol) either ways, i'm so glad you're all as excited as i am for this fic 🥹🫶🏻 it really means a lot to me <33

i'd also like to point out that i'm writing this fic as i go, kind of going with the flow, so, occasionally some things might not make sense but let's hope the flow goes well 🙏🏻

taglist at the end !

click here to join the taglist ♡

“hey there, babygirl,” vernon greeted as he took a seat in front of you at the library desk.

the nickname had you looking up from your laptop, shooting the boy a grimacing look.

“vernon, what the fuck?”

vernon chwe, an art major you had met on the first day of college during orientation, since both of you were in the same freshman group during said orientation.

you were entirely new to seoul, having spent most of your life in a small town in daegu (alongside your introverted nature, talking to new people while having to adjust to your new surroundings was basically an introvert’s nightmare).

when vernon approached you during one of the 30 minute breaks, he handed you a bottle of coke, a friendly gesture you appreciated a lot. that wasn’t what caught your eye though - it was his clothes. it’s not every day you’d see a college student wearing a bright neon tie-dyed shirt.

when vernon noticed your staring, he simply said “ah, yeah, the rest of my clothes are in the dryer. i’m vernon, by the way! vernon chwe!”

“...i’m ___,” came your response, “lee ___.”

from then on, you’ve both been stuck to each other like glue. always seen together to the point you both had been mistaken as a couple one too many times.

guess the saying of 'you're not real besties unless people think you're a couple' is true to an extent.

though you both have made it clear that the relationship between the two of you is strictly platonic.

the boy laughs at your reaction before shutting up as a few students shoot him a dirty look, a few others shushing him. “it’s fun messing with you, ___,” he said in a soft voice, not wanting to get on the nerves of the other students, “watcha working on?”

“just the usual presentation preparations,” you answered as you pushed back up your glasses and continued typing away.

“is this a group or solo project?”

“solo, which thank god. if this was a group and i had another bad luck on my groupmates, i was going to lose it.”

vernon cringes at the mention of groupmates. in your previous group assignment, you were stuck with not one, not two; but three parasites. he remembered how sleep deprived and stressed you were throughout the semester for said group project. he’d gotten you to submit an email to the lecturer in charge, writing out in extreme detail how you had to bear the responsibilities of the group members while they were out and about, partying, going out on dates etc.

however, you decided to go even further than just submitting an email.

it was the day of the presentation. as your lecturer sat in the front row seat alongside two other faculty members, you looked at your parasitic freeloading groupmates that were standing to your left.

“are you guys ready?” you asked in a quiet voice.

when they nodded their heads, you smiled as you pressed the clicker in your hand. anyone would have assumed your smile was that of an encouraging smile. you however, knew better.

as the first slide was projected onto the projection screen, the topic of the presentation was written in a big font while all four names of yours and your groupmates were written underneath it.

as you pressed on the clicker, one by one, the names of your groupmates began to be removed from the slide. the classroom was confused before catching on - you were calling out your group mates for being parasites.

your groupmates watched in a panic state as the students began whispering amongst themselves; the faculty members jotting things down on their clipboards.

once all the three names were removed with your name being the only one left on the slide, in a calm and collected voice, you said, “now, shall we begin the presentation?”

vernon remembered the proud expression you had when he met up with you the same day. “how’d it feel?” he asked, having helped you with your research and planned out the execution for the revelation of the free loaders.

“amazing!” came your reply with a beaming smile, satisfied.

“whatever happened to those three anyways?”

shrugging, you heard from some classmates that they had either gotten suspended or needed to retake the class. but, you didn’t care.

why would you?

if anything, you were glad you didn't have to deal with them for the rest of your studying years.

"hmm, fair enough," vernon responded before placing both arms on the table, leaning forward, "so, got any friday night plans?"

"if you're planning to drag me to a frat party-"

"not a frat party."

looking up from your laptop with an eyebrow raised, the boy just shoots you a smile - a smile that you can't help but feel suspicious of.

as you saved your work progress and shut down your laptop, vernon spoke again.

"have you heard of underground boxing?"

"i am not going to get in a boxing ring."

"you don't have to!"

once you've packed up your stuff and headed out of the library together, he explained more about the underground boxing.

it's a monthly event and is usually held somewhere in itaewon. when you mentioned that you didn't think vernon was the type to take part in these events, he replied with, "that's because i don't. a close friend of mine does and i usually go to support him with two other close friends!"

"and where do i play a part in this… support group?"

"don't hate me for this, okay? i just think that you could use some outdoor time, ya'know? i know you're introverted and want to hole up in your apartment the entire weekend, but it wouldn't hurt to try something new!"

you were silent for a moment.

"so, i'm a bore, is what you're getting at."

"what!? no! absolutely, not!"

when you let out a laugh at vernon's reaction, it had a few students around both of you stunned.

maybe it's due to your introverted nature that everyone assumed you'd be cold-natured too, black cat energy they call it.

but to vernon, he knew it wasn't the case. you just needed to be around the right people or in a setting you're familiar/comfortable with to be yourself.

'naturally introverted, selectively extroverted' as they called it.

"i'll go if you pick me up."

"does seven sound good to you?"

"yeap."

"aight, bet."

introverted ass: ik i should've asked this earlier

introverted ass: but is there like a dress code or smtg?

introverted ass: bcs i don't wanna show up looking extremely out of place

vrrnonie: casual should be okay

vrrnonie: maybe bring a jacket along

introverted ass: but it's a boxing match

introverted ass: wouldn't it be hot and stuffy from all that sweat

introverted ass: ?

vrrnonie: it's actually air conditioned, believe it or not

vrrnonie: and it's well ventilated too

vrrnonie: and there's not much people, dont worry

vrrnonie: the place can hold up to 100+ ppl

vrrnonie: but they usually only let in abt 70-ish?

vrrnonie: not wanting to be too stuffy, crowd control etc

introverted ass: so i'm assuming i can just wear my sweater and tights?

vrrnonie: yeapp

vrrnonie: reaching in 10 btw

introverted ass: wtf

vrrnonie: you can do your makeup in the car when we reach

vrrnonie: it doesn't start til 10pm so we can grab some dinner

introverted ass: again, wtf

vrrnonie: love ya bestie 😘

introverted ass: 🙄✋🏻

true to his word, vernon did show up ten minutes later at your apartment front door.

parking his mercedes-benz in one of the few empty spots, he then brought you to a diner he deemed to have the best burger in all of itaewon (of course that was after he let you finish doing your makeup, as he had promised you).

"so… how long have your friends been doing this whole underground boxing thing?" you asked, stabbing a few fries on a fork before shoving them into your mouth.

"oh, just one of them actually," vernon replied with his mouth half full of his beef burger. "wonwoo hyung acts as the manager while mingyu hyung and i are there as first aiders. occasionally, we'd help him train too. but, mingyu is the one he trains with since he works out more than i do."

"does this boxer friend of yours have a name?"

"i can't really say his actual name out here. but, his stage name is scoups!"

why does that stage name sound so familiar… you ponder.

it's now 1230am and you've been out way longer than you should be (technically, more like longer than you wanted).

by right, shou should now be on your bed, cuddled up in your blanket as you binge whatever series or movies are available on the many streaming platforms offered.

yet, here you are - in an underground boxing ring somewhere in itaewon all because your best friend had decided you should spend more time outside.

the match was nearing its final round and based on what you've heard from the people sitting beside you (vernon had left to go to the locker rooms where his friends were; but had assured you everyone is respectable and won't try anything weird. it didn't reassure you completely to be left alone in the crowd, but any kind of reassurance is acceptable at this point), it seems that the two final boxers would be JK and scoups.

(you had also taken a lot of toilet breaks due to the overwhelming feeling of being in a crowd for an extended period of time)

you still ask yourself why the name 'scoups' sound so familiar…

it was only when the loud cheers snapped you out of your thoughts, causing you to shift your focus onto the ring that you finally realise why that name sounded so familiar.

because right in that boxing ring, stood an old face you've been longing to see for years.

choi seungcheol.

taglist (i can't tag a few for some reason ㅠㅠ);

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwoo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetener @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnotthelastofus @yearnoclock

[agaypanic]

Hello! I'd love to request Charlie Swan with a teacher girlfriend. Perhaps he comes to visit on his lunch or something and sees how attached the kids are to her and it makes him happy to see how caring she is. Please and thank you!(I work with pre k but my former class was todds and they are still clingy 💖💖)

Lunch Break (Charlie Swan X Teacher!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Chief Swan visits his girlfriend on his lunch break, and can’t help but adore the way she is with her students.

A/N: i know nothing about taking care of or teaching little kids lol

***

Charlie wasn’t used to being around a toddler, let alone twenty of them. Even when his daughter Bella was at that age, he didn’t see her much. 

Yet here he was, sitting in his girlfriend’s classroom, having lunch with her while a group of toddlers napped on the floor.

“So, how’s your day been?” You asked in a whisper, picking at the burger and fries that Charlie had brought you from the Carver Cafe.

“Oh, not much.” He responded in an equally low voice, but more gruff. His fingers smoothed over his mustache before speaking again. “Still looking into those missing persons cases, but we’ve been coming up with nothing.”

“You’ll find something, bear.” You squeezed his shoulder, and he leaned into your touch. “You always do.”

“Yeah, maybe… But enough about me, how’s your day?”

You let out a tiny laugh, not surprised that Charlie would bounce the attention onto you as soon as he could.

“Well, today we had an art day.” You gestured to one of your tables on the opposite side of the room, covered in different drying papers. “Watercolor, crayon, markers, that kind of thing. That was really fun. I know I shouldn’t play favorites, but I really like Delilah’s. You know her mom, right? Samantha?” Charlie nodded after a quick moment of thought, and so you continued. “Well, she wanted to make a meadow, so she covered her paper in green, and then she stamped little fingerprints all over as flowers. I mean, you kinda have to ask her what it is to figure out what it is, but I don’t know, it was really cute and- oh my god, I’m rambling, huh?” You covered your mouth to stop more word vomit from spilling, a little giggle slipping past your fingers.

Charlie pulled your hand away, laying a kiss on your knuckles. He nudged your knee with his own, a coy smile on his lips.

“No, I like hearing you talk.” Your cheeks reddened, and you scrunched your nose at him. He squeezed your hand. “Come on, keep going. What happened after painting?”

“Read the kids a story.” You answered, trying to remember the title. “They really like that Llama Llama book. But some of the kids really wanted ‘Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!’ so I told them I’d read that after nap time. Then they all had food, fell asleep, and then you came with lunch.” You ate a fry before stealing a sip of Charlie’s coffee. You liked how he didn’t mind, instead watching you with a fond expression. “Which is delicious, by the way, thank you.”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

“Ms. Y/n?” A tiny voice sounded from one of the sleeping mats. You gave Charlie’s hand a quick squeeze before letting go and standing up from your chair.

“Jayden?” You asked quietly, even though you knew it was him from his voice. “Are you okay?”

“Bad dream.” The little boy answered, rolling off his cot and looking at you with bleary eyes and a frown.

“Aw, I’m sorry, honey.” You said softly, crouching down close to him. “Do you want a hug?”

He nodded a few times, carefully walking through his sleeping classmates to reach you. He latched his arms around your neck, and you patted his back, waiting until he felt better.

Charlie saw the interaction from the corner of his eye, not wanting little Jayden to feel watched. He couldn’t help but smile at how quickly you were able to comfort him. It was clear that you were made for this kind of work, being so caring and nurturing without even thinking about it.

“Feeling better?” You asked Jayden as he let go of you, and he nodded. You smiled at him. “I’m glad. Now, you have a couple more minutes before we gotta start waking up. Do you wanna lay back down?” Jayden nodded again, and with a little wave of his hand, he tiptoed back over to his mat. 

When he was settled, you stood up from your crouched position and went back to Charlie, who was looking at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“What?” You asked, finishing off the rest of your food.

“Nothing.” He said, shaking his head a bit. Charlie looked at his watch and sighed, realizing his break was almost over. “I should probably leave. The boys’ll need me back at the station soon.”

“Okay.” You said with a slight pout, wishing you had more time with him. The two of you cleaned up, Charlie insisting that he could throw the trash away on his way out. “I’ll see you later, bear.”

“See you soon, sweetheart.” Charlie kissed your cheek and went to the door, giving you a wave before exiting the room.

[drurrito]

Are You The One? - One

A/N: I've been sitting on this idea for a minute. Some quick background on AYTO: it's a gameshow -- there's usually 9 or 10 couples that are matched based on compatibility. They have about 10 weeks to figure it out by playing games and going on dates. They pair off at "matching ceremonies" to see how many light beams they get to clue them in on who might be a perfect match. Anyway, here goes nothing--all mistakes are mine of course.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, Jerk!Vision lol

------------

No match!

Wanda stares at the screen, mouth agape and mind racing. Vis squeezes her hand.

"Wanda-"

"You're not my match," Wanda whispered, "you're not my match and we only have two matching ceremonies to figure everything out."

"That doesn't change what we have," he turns to her, taking both her hands into his.

"It changes everything," Wanda bites, "I wasted so much time with you," she runs a frustrated hand through her hair. Vis just stands there, arms stupidly hanging by his sides. Wanda thought she was winning this game by sticking with him. She ignored everyone's pleads for her to pick someone else the last few matching ceremonies. That one beam of light was her and Vis without a doubt.

Until now.

"My match is still here," she's quiet again. Vis looks like he's still processing. He's been extremely persuasive up until this point. Vis would just talk Wanda out of actually playing the game every time she mentioned talking with anyone else. To the rest of the house, he sounded like a broken record, but to Wanda--he sounded like her favorite song.

"So, that's it?" Vis mumbles, his face contorts into something like disbelief, he looks foolish.

"That's the point, Vis," Wanda doesn't spare a second glance at him as she leaves.

----------------

The house buzzes with conversation. Wanda is sitting on the patio alone, twirling her glass in her hand.

"Hey," Shuri slowly approaches the seat across from Wanda. After the Truth Booth, everyone gave Wanda some kind of sympathy. A hug, some words, tight smiles and other gestures that did nothing to stop Wanda's stomach from churning something awful. The guilt has been making her shoulders sag heavily since coming back.

"We've been crunching the numbers," Shuri starts again, Wanda keeps her eyes on the dancing glass in her hand.

"We think your match could be y/n."

That gets a side glance and cocked eyebrow from Wanda, "she barely talks."

"Because she makes you do all the talking," Shuri shoots Wanda a knowing look who only rolls her eyes in response. You were good at getting Wanda to talk on your group dates. It only took a few questions to spark a conversation among the whole group, actually. Sometimes you just shared a comfortable silence, it threw Wanda off so bad. How can you connect with someone without a conversation?

"Look, y/n has won two dates in a row with you, that's two more dates than Vis ever won. Plus, you guys haven't sat together at a matching ceremony yet. If it's not you, then it has to be Carol--but we don't have any more time left to figure this out. If some of our guesses end up being correct this week, then we can figure out the rest of the matches from there."

"So you want me to sit with someone that I have no chemistry with?" Wanda asks, trying not to sound less than amused with the plan.

"Technically, you don't have chemistry with anyone," Shuri says without missing a beat, it makes Wanda flinch.

"But," Shuri drawls, "now that Vis isn't helicoptering over you, there are a few days to see if something sparks between you and y/n before the ceremony."

Wanda shifts in her seat with a heavy sigh that all but burns her nose. Outside the island, finding love is hardly ever a team effort. But in this game, teamwork is key. While getting a blackout would have costed money from the prize fund, it would have crossed off a lot of potential couples. That one beam belongs to someone, just not to Wanda and Vis.

"Have you talked to y/n about this?"

"Told her before your Truth Booth," Shuri flashes a nervous smile, "if it's any consolation, she was also hesitant at first."

Wanda can't help but look puzzled. She chews on her bottom lip for a few moments before nodding slowly.

"Alright, I'm in."

------------

Wanda walks back into the house with Shuri. Everyone is sitting around in the living room, half of the group is gossiping about Bruce and Natasha sneaking off into the boom boom room for one last time. Shuri gives Wanda a parting glance before sitting down next to Namor. Half the room has paired off into new couples, Wanda realizes. Vis is nursing a bottle between Tony and Steve, Wanda doesn't look at him as she makes her way over to you. You're busy nodding along to whatever Thor is talking about, while Carol is leaning against you as she talks to Maria. Your eyes are on Wanda as soon as she fills in the space between you and Thor.

"Hey," you give a warm smile that Wanda barely notices over the burn of the alcohol in her throat.

"Hey," she rasps back to you.

"I'm sorry about today," you look frustratingly genuine as Wanda searches your eyes for a few beats, looking for a reason to be mad at you. She gives up, turning back to her glass to down the rest in one gulp.

"Yeah, me too."

---------

As it turns out, you're also good at having conversations. It only took one "and what about you?" from Wanda to get you to actually participate. Vis was seething from his spot on the couch until Tony tugged him away to talk with another group. Maria had to do the same against Carol's protests when she realized you and Wanda were trying to hit it off. Your housemates continued to leave until it was just the both of you sitting on the couch. Wanda never noticed. She figured the two of you were alone this whole time with the way you looked at her.

Wanda is listening to you talk about your favorite movie when she fails to stifle a yawn.

"Shit, it's late," you watch the clock in the kitchen, realizing that you can hear it's ticking now. The rest of the house is dead silent. Wanda thumbs at the ring on her index finger. Shit, where is she supposed to sleep now? All the beds are likely taken.

Except for one.

"Hey," your voice is gentle, "I can sleep on the couch, you take the bed."

"I'm not going to ask you to do that-"

"You don't have to," you take a breath, "I just want to give you space, if you want it."

Wanda's brows furrow, space? She thinks back to the night when Vis made out with Hope and insisted on sleeping splayed on top of Wanda afterward. Space was never an option with Vis, that's why she's looking at you like you just grew a second head. You wordlessly grab Wanda's glass to wash, your way of giving her some time to think it over. You're drying off your hands when Wanda walks up to the bar.

"What side of the bed do you sleep on?"

-------------

Wanda tries not to think about the fact that you like to sleep on the left side while she tries to fall asleep on the right, the side she prefers.

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap five/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

Whiskey & Cigars

summary: Trying to keep your promise to thank Steve for fixing your sink, you aren’t expecting him to have company when you show up at his front gate after work.

wc: 5k

warnings: 18+ series for future chapters but none really for this one. Drinking, cigar smoking, flirting and wait.. is that an almost kiss?? 🤭

authors note: the idea of this chapter is what sparked the entire series, i’ve been so excited to write this one and share it with you. I hope you guys love it, we’re half way through so you know what that means? (things actually start happening lol) But Leighanne, I want to date this older!eddie too! Guess what? You can in @carolmunson ‘s orange colored sky 🧡

🌇 <- chapter four ->chapter six

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The tune:

The box of tacos is warm in your hands, the package of cannoli’s you snagged on your way home from work moving around in your backpack as you step off the train. You take a shaky breath as you make your way towards your block, your feet taking you to his house. The nerves of him not expecting you has you talking yourself off the ledge the entire walk. Does he really like fish tacos? Was he just trying to be nice? What if he’s busy? What if he’s not even home?

Your overthinking is silenced the moment you hit your street, the string lights of his front porch catch in your sight, while the sounds of Eddie Money echo down the steps filling the quiet and hitting your ears. He was home, but he wasn’t alone.

You slow your pace when you get close enough to smell the smoke of his cigar, and hear the deep baritone of his full belly laugh. Another voice chimes in, it’s raspier, darker, and definitely not a woman’s. The unruly pang of jealousy that hits your gut subsides when you reach your apartment and he finally comes into view. 

His hair is messier than you’ve ever seen it, the gray and honey highlights sticking out at the ends like he’s spent the whole night running those big hands through it. His cheeks are flushed with what looks like the end of a fun day with friends, a half smoked cigar tucked between his teeth that show themselves in a wide grin for the man sitting on his porch steps next to him. 

He leans on the top step by his elbows,your thighs pressing together when the silver chain that’s usually hidden under his shirt swings over the soft blue tee that fits tight across chest when he laughs again. His cream jeans are loose fitting, stretching at his thighs with dark gray house slippers on his feet.

The guy next to him is not who you’d expect to find, he looks around the same age, gray streaks shining under the porch light in the dark curls that rest tied back in a loose low hanging bun. His chocolate eyes shine with excitement while ring and tattoo covered hands gesture wildly with his story, the ash at the end of his cigar is dangerously close to falling onto the wood of the porch. 

Steve picks up the ashtray between the two glasses of a dark liquor like it’s second nature, lifting it up for his friend, making you notice the silver chain that dangles around his wrist when he takes the offering. He’s dressed in all black, a contrast to the light colors of Steve’s wardrobe with a pressed Judas Priest band tee that sits half tucked into the tops of his Chino shorts that fall right above his knee. Black socks and black slides covering his feet. 

Bandit’s the first to notice you from his spot on the giant rug by the front door when you reach the gate. His ears perk as he sits up, paws dropping one after the other in excitement. A high pitch whine escapes him, catching Steve’s attention. Steve plucks the cigar from his mouth, looking at Bandit before finally following the dog’s line of sight to you. There was no getting out of this now.

You feel like you won some kind of prize at the size of Steve’s smile, lopsided with rosy cheeks pushed up and eyes crinkling in the corners. He sets his cigar down, ignoring the confused look his friend is giving him before sitting up, running a hand through his hair making it stand on end even more.

“She’s alive!” He does his best impression of Dr. Frankenstein sticking his arms out in front of him and you see the man next to him grimace before taking a puff and turning his attention on to you. Curious dark eyes watch Steve and Bandit go to meet you at the gate. 

“Yes, I somehow survived.” You can’t help but giggle, making the man on the porch shoot his eyebrows up. All the nerve you worked up on the way here is gone when your neighbor gets close enough for you to see the stubble you like so much is back. 

“I hope the Au Cheval burger helped with that,” he breaths with a smirk, his eyes landing on the to go box that’s threatening to succumb to the iron grip in your hand. “Is that what I think it is?”

Too caught up in how his eyes seem to light up when he asks, it takes you a minute to register that he’s talking about the fish tacos in your hand. 

“Oh!! - Sorry - Yes, I didn’t know you had company tonight. I have cannolis in my bag too, I don’t wanna interrupt anything - I can, I can just leave them with you.” Bandit jumps onto the gate while you stutter your words, suddenly feeling sixteen again. The heat of his friend's stare makes you shuffle around in place. 

Steve opens his mouth ready to protest but he’s interrupted before he gets a chance to say anything. 

“Harrington! You gonna invite the pretty girl up for a drink or what?”

The heat rises to your cheeks as you busy yourself with scratching Bandit behind the ear with a free hand. Steve lets out a breath through his nose before pinching the bridge of it. His ears turning red like the cherries on the ends of the cannoli’s in your bag.

“Sorry about my friend.” He takes another beat before he looks up, his eyes smoldering against yours, hope hidden inside the golden specks. “I was going to actually ask you if you’d like to come up for a drink, I promise he’s harmless. He met his wife shopping at Trader Joe’s.” 

You can’t hold back your laugh, not used to seeing this playful side of him- the sipper on his porch loosening up his nerves. His grin spreads wide at your reaction, and he’s opening the gate before you can even respond because he already knows the answer.

“I happen to love Trader Joe’s, Steve.” Narrowing your eyes at him as you make your way in. He takes the opportunity to grab the to-go box from your hands just in time for you to accept Bandit’s big paws.

“Bandit!” He hisses, stealing your move with a roll of his eyes at his rambunctious dog, closing the gate while you keep him distracted. “I’m more of a Whole Foods guy myself.”

“Of course you are,” you scoff with a condescending laugh, desperately trying not to meet the eyes of the man who’s been watching you this whole time.

“What? I like having a beer when I shop. Does that make me an asshole or something?” He tries to defend himself but he only validates you more and he knows it  by the way you smirk at him.

He tries to act offended and not think about how cute it is that you haven’t stopped petting Bandit the whole walk to his front steps.

“Yes, it does make you an asshole.” The raspy voice from before interjects and you can’t hide from his curiosity when you both stop at his feet. A warm smile meets your eyes when you finally look at him, a puff of smoke exhaling through his pierced nose.

Steve’s eye roll is real this time.

“This is Eddie,” he sighs, introducing you to the mystery man, “We’ve been friends since high school, and he’s just jealous he moved to New York where you can’t shop and drink at the same time.”

Your cheeks push up at his banter, all the color in his face seems brighter tonight, his shoulders are relaxed. No longer constricted by a tight work shirt, or weighed down by loneliness - Steve is happy.

“Best friends since high school,” Eddie corrects him, setting his cigar down before opening his hands out for Bandit who abandoned you the second you reached him. 

“Hi,” you greet, trying not to sound as awkward as you feel, silently begging for your next joke to land, “I’m Steve’s neighbor and I hate to break it to you, also Bandit’s new best friend.” 

Eddie snorts, eyes twinkling when he catches the way your lips twitch when you hear Steve’s laugh next to you. 

“I was wondering who he was ditching me for.” He narrows his gaze a little as he sizes Steve up who seems to be focusing on anything but his friend before choosing to set his sights on you. 

“I’m going to go put these in the kitchen for now, I’ll grab you a glass. Thank you for this honey, you really didn’t need to.” His hand reaches out to squeeze your arm like after your hug the other morning. Goosebumps form under his palm when his thumb rubs the softness of your skin gently before letting go.

“It’s the least I could do, seriously you’ve been such a help.” You take your backpack off, the breeze making your shirt unstick from your back. “Don’t forget the cannoli’s.”

“Cannoli’s too? My, my Stevie boy. You must be quite the neighbor,” his friend chimes in, picking up his cigar again.

“Eddie,” Steve scolds just like he did Bandit, grabbing the pastries from you with an apologetic look that you wave off.

He stomps as he makes his way up the steps shooting his friend a glare. Eddie just smirks around the tobacco, leaning back with a raise of his eyebrows and a shrug.

The front door sounds heavy when it closes behind Steve, leaving the two of you alone. It’s quiet, but not for long, the gears in his head moving as he chooses his words before speaking. The crickets chirping in the grass and the hum of distant cars make your palms sweat.

“He must’ve done something real nice to get his favorite dessert hand delivered by his pretty next door neighbor.”

Your gaze narrows, a small smirk forming.

“I never told you I lived next door.” 

Eddie’s smooth facade cracks for a minute when he realizes he gave away what he already knew about you, letting you know that Steve must talk about you.

“He fixed my sink if you must know,” you tease, letting him off the hook, unable to hold back the smile that takes over your face when he barks out a loud laugh.

“How neighborly of him,” he hums around his cigar. 

The door’s opening before the conversation can go any further, a glass of the same dark liquor they’re drinking in Steve’s hand. Eddie catches the slight wrinkle of your nose at it chuckling to himself when you shoot him a look.

“I see he didn’t scare you off yet. That’s great.” Steve grins at the tattooed man, who smiles back with his teeth.

“I don’t know if I could have lasted much longer,” you sigh with fake annoyance, taking the glass from Steve, your stomach going off like fireworks on the fourth of july when your fingers brush, “Thank god you’re back.” 

The laugh you earn has you wanting to make him do it again.

“Why don’t you take a drink of that delicious Johnny Walker Blue label I saw you eyeing when he brought it out?” Eddie raises his glass in a silent challenge. 

Steve’s brows furrow when he looks at his friend in confusion, missing the way you’re scolding Eddie from behind his back.

“I would love to, Eddie, I thought you’d never ask.” You raise your glass in acceptance, already regretting it.

Placing the crystal to your glossed lip, the smell of it makes your gut churn with flashes of your hangover from the other night. You watch the realization wash over Steve’s face when the liquor hits your tongue in the smallest of sips.

“Oh no, that’s probably not what you want to drink after the other night, huh?” His concern dares to crumble when his lips twitch as he tries not to smile. 

“Don’t look at me like that Steve!” Your own smile breaks through your embarrassment.

“Jesus Harrington, go take your girl to get something she’ll actually enjoy,” Eddie laughs, extending his hand out to take your glass, his own now empty. 

Your girl. That’s my girl. Your face and neck heat up at the words again.

“It’s fine! This is okay, I can drink it!” You try to drive your point home by taking another sip, just for your face to give you away again.

“Honey,” Steve chuckles, taking the glass from your hands. “You don’t have to pretend to like it. I’m not offended.”

“I’m sorry, I just usually like something a little bit sweeter.” Your confession makes Steve’s cheeks dust pink.

“Of course you do.”

Steve’s place is intimidating, the overhead pendant light is dim in the entryway. Big paintings hang in perfect placements along his light gray walls that lead up a dark stained wooden staircase. The music is quieter inside, the smell of cedar hitting your nose from the crackling candle he has lit in the living room that you only get a small glimpse of as he leads you to his kitchen. 

He flips the middle switch and only one set of overhead lights turn on, matching the mood of the rest of the house. You take in the giant island in the middle of the kitchen, white paneling that matches the tile below your feet, topped with black marble that sparkles under the low light. The box of cannolis you brought him sits in the middle.

He stops at the stainless steel fridge, shoulder blades moving under his shirt when he opens the door with a firm grip that makes his forearm flex, the harsh brightness polluting the dark. You both squint for a second letting your eyes adjust, the low hum of the fridge drowns out the way your heart beats in your chest.

You were in his house. 

“Are you a margarita girl?” His voice is too smooth to startle you, something softer in it like this. His eyes meet yours with a lopsided grin in an attempt to soothe your obvious nerves. 

“Depends on if you have salt for the rim.” Letting your back hit the countertop, you fake difficulty. 

“Do I have salt for the rim? Please, honey. I’m not in my twenties.” He scoffs shutting the fridge with a lime and what looks like a homemade mixer in hand. The way you giggle for him makes him feel like he might have a chance.

“I’m just making sure is all.” You roll your eyes at him for the first time tonight, and he can’t wait to make you do it again. Addicted to the smile you try to hide, always giving yourself away.

“I’ll make it how you like it.” 

He walks towards you, invading your space just enough to smell the way the spice of his cologne mixes with the expensive whiskey on his breath. Freeing his hands of the ingredients he looks down the hard line of his nose, glazed mossy eyes taking in your face like he’s never got to really do it like this before. The wild stray falls loose and your hand twitches at your side wanting to be the one to brush it away from his forehead this time.

“I promise.”

The twitch of his lips lets you know he heard your breath catch before walking away to get you a glass and a shaker. You exhale through your nose when you get a break from his attention. Was this happening? Was he flirting?

There’s a salt rimmed glass filled with crushed ice in his hands when he comes back, too lost in your own head you didn’t even hear him do all of that. He gets close enough for his shoulder to brush against yours, the tension making your fingertips buzz. 

“This okay?” He asks, eyes avoiding yours as he slices the lime. “You zoned out a little, just want to make sure you feel comfortable is all.”

“Yeah - I - sorry, I kinda get lost in my own head sometimes.” You turn your body to face him, admiring the sharp lines of his jaw from the side, the hint of crows feet from years of laughter that meet the tip of his high cheek bone, the never ending expanse of freckles and moles that dot his skin. “I mean I could have kept those cannolis for myself and left, so what do you think?”

He snorts through his nose, measuring out the shot before pouring it in the glass.

“I ate one already.” He looks at you from the corner of his eye like a boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Steve! Dessert before dinner? What are you on vacation or something?” Your laugh makes his face light up, pouring the mixer a little heavy handed just for you.

“What can I say? I was craving something sweet." He makes sure to look at you when he says it, begging you to catch the double meaning before dumping everything into a silver shaker.

His eyes watch the way your bottom lip tucks between your teeth at his words to try and hide your smile before he starts the loud process of mixing your drink. You don’t look away from him this time, holding his stare. It pours out smooth over the ice when he’s done, squeezing another slice of lime for good measure over the top. Pushing it towards you, he leans on the counter with his elbow to watch.

“Let’s see what you think.”

You give him your best poker face, your fingers wrapping around the now chilled glass. Pieces of salt fall off the rim when you bring it to your lips. He straightens up, grinning proudly at the way your brows marry together when it hits your tongue. You can barely taste the tequila, the sweetness of the mixer hiding all evidence while the sour of the lime balances the whole thing out. It was the best margarita you’d ever had.

“Wow,” you finally get out after you’ve had enough, only to have part of your sip dribble down onto your chin. 

“Careful.” He chuckles, taking the glass from you, his eyes meeting yours with something unknown swimming in them. 

He gets closer — close enough to feel the heat of his breath fan across your lips, for the tips of his slippers to touch the tops of your sneakers. Your favorite stray still taunts you, begs you to take care of it but it’s his hand that raises first. The pad of his thumb swiping across your chin, cleaning up what you left behind. 

“Is it sweet enough for you tough girl?” His voice comes out low, a question just for your ears. 

Your answer is lost on the tip of your tongue when he brings his thumb to his mouth. Pink lips wrapping around it before sucking it clean. 

“Steve - “ your fingers go to hook in his belt loops, your body demanding him closer before your brain can stop the movements.

“Hone-“ he starts, but someone clears their throat in the doorway.

Your hands drop expecting to hear the deep tenor of Eddie’s voice, only to be met with the silky softness of a woman’s.

“Steven! Who is this??” It comes out sweet like the drink he made, and it makes the man in front of you sigh. Whatever was going to happen is gone. 

“This is my neighbor.” He gives, not trying to hide his annoyance, and when you turn around it only seems to make her smile more.

“This is Eddie’s wife Peach.” Steve introduces, finally running a hand through his hair and you can’t help the pang of jealousy that you didn’t get to do it. 

Peach smiles brightly at you, extending a dainty hand and the rock on her wedding ring catches in the overhead light. She’s gorgeous and almost out of his league, but the way she gives Steve the same knowing eyebrow wiggle makes you realize quickly they’re a match made in heaven.

“Well now I want a margarita Steve.” She crosses her arms winking at you, relishing in the groan Steve gives her.

He wanted to kiss you, but bargained with himself that maybe this was the universe giving him the sign that it wasn’t time yet.

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” You don’t mean for it to sound so shy when it comes out of your mouth, but you needed a minute alone to catch your breath. 

“Yeah of course honey, it’s just down the hall right past the staircase.” He points down the doorway you both came from, grabbing your fingers and squeezing gently before busying himself with making another drink.

You're halfway down the hallway when you hear Peaches in the kitchen.

“That’s her??”

The bathroom is smaller than you thought it’d be. It’s only a half, meant for guest use, that part is obvious with the lack of a shower inside. It’s still nicer than the one in your one bedroom, the crisp white towels that hang on silver racks look almost untouched. The deep stone sink in front of the mirror makes you feel like you’re in a spa. 

You stare at yourself in the big oval mirror. He was going to kiss you, right?

You can hear the faint sounds of the two of them talking in the kitchen, choosing to stay hidden until the rate of your heart slows down to something less likely to make you pass out. Their feet shuffle against the wooden floor by the entryway before the sound of the front door opening hits your ears.

The light knock on the bathroom door makes you jump, his voice slipping through the cracks of it.

“Hey sweetheart, we’re going back to the porch. I’ve got your drink whenever you come out.” There’s a hint of worry in his tone, was he thinking about it too?

“I’ll be out in just a sec!” 

He lingers by the door for a minute before you hear his heavy steps head outside. You take one more look at yourself in the mirror, straightening out your work shirt, and pulling down the ends of your skirt before turning around to check from behind. 

“Okay, you’re cool. Just be cool. He was totally gonna kiss you and that’s fine,” you whisper to yourself before checking your breath just in case it happens again. 

Your hand lingers on the door knob for a second before you finally work up enough courage to face him again.

🌃🌃🌃

The front door is cracked open when you emerge from the bathroom, their voices battling over the low playing music inside.

“What do you mean you haven’t asked her for her number yet Steve?” Eddie’s question makes you stop in your tracks.

“Can you talk any louder?” Steve half whispers and half yells, making Peach giggle. 

“It’s obvious you both are into each other -“ Eddie starts again only to be cut off by his wife.

“I swear they were about to kiss in the kitchen, Ed.” 

The way Steve stays quiet tells you that it wasn’t just in your head.

“Look, I just - I don’t know.” He sighs deeply, and you can practically see the way he’s probably running a stressed hand through his hair.

“Steve..” his best friend's tone goes soft, “It’s been long enough, you’re not a bad person for having feelings for someone again. You and I both know Emma would want that for you. I see the way you look at this girl, I haven’t seen you look at someone like that in over a decade.” 

Since his wife.

Steve laughs a little and you hear the ice in his cup clink against the glass signaling him taking a drink before he answers, “Yeah, I know.”

There’s a second of silence and you wonder what his face looks like right now. 

“Look, you’re going on that camping trip next week right? Ask her to water your plants or something while you’re gone, then you can get her number that way. That’s less scary right?” The teasing edge to Peach’s words are gone, she’s gentle with the way she speaks to him.

“Yeah, I mean, that’s a normal thing neighbors ask right?” 

“Totally!” Eddie chimes in enthusiastically making you have to muffle your giggle.

You decide to open and close the bathroom door again to alert them of your presence when you feel like your eavesdropping has gone on long enough. 

Steve clears his throat and you catch the end of his silent scolding to his friends when you step outside. He smiles but there’s something missing from it when he holds up your drink from his place on the porch swing, Bandit curled up at his feet. 

“There she is!” He teases, desperately trying to bring the mood back to what it was before.

“I didn’t fall in if you can believe it,” your response comes out more awkward than intended, laughing nervously while taking your drink. You wonder if it’s obvious that you heard everything when you dare to take the spot next to him. Thighs and shoulders pressing together, your mind races with the new information.

Steve, your handsome older neighbor, the one who works for the Cubs, the one who drives a BMW to work every morning, the guy who fixes your sink and sends you dorky notes likes you. The weight of his guilt is the only thing holding him back from making a real move and it’s hard for you to wrap your head around the fact that the silly crush you’d been harboring is returned.

“Didn’t anyone tell you not to comment on how long a lady’s in the bathroom Harrington?” Eddie teases breaking the ice, making Steve flush deep crimson from his neck to his ears.

“That’s not - that’s not what I meant,” he grumbles inside his glass, the smooth confidence from inside the kitchen now gone.

You squeeze his knee gently with a giggle, the thick hair tickling your palm. 

Eddie takes control of the conversation for the rest of the time it takes you to finish your drink, Peach interjecting every now and then to roast him when he’s telling a story wrong. You half listen to as much of it all as you can, but it’s hard to focus when you can feel the way Steve keeps looking at you from the corner of his eye, turning away everytime you go to meet his gaze. 

He keeps his thigh pressed to yours despite there being more than enough room on the swing, the sides of your feet tapping together on the porch. The heat of his body and the strength of the nice tequila hit after a long day all at once, a yawn escaping you in the middle of another one of Eddie’s bike trip stories.

“If I’m boring you just say something, jeez,” Eddie teases, a warm smile spread over his plump lips.

“Sorry!” Embarrassment warms your cheeks, feeling everyone’s eyes on you, “It’s just been a long day at work and I think the late night is just hitting me.”

“I’m teasing, kid. I have stories like these that I could tell for weeks. Go get some sleep.” He pulls his wife deeper into his side, her eyelids droopy like yours. “I think the Mrs is ready too anyway.”

Steve’s hand spreads over your back, the warmth of his palm rubbing up and down the dip of your spine making you hum.

“I’ll walk you home honey.”

🌃🌃🌃

Your staircase feels never ending, both of you slightly out of breath when you get to the top. Turning around at your front door to face him, both of you smile, trying not to laugh at the sheen of sweat on your foreheads. 

“That seemed harder that time, no?” Steve breaks the silence sounding winded.

“I think maybe it has something to do with the liquor and the pastries, but I could be wrong.”

His laugh is booming, making you giggle while you try to shush him out of courtesy of your neighbors who are fast asleep. 

“Sorry, sorry!” He whispers, a smirk that tells you he’s really not tugging at his lips, his eyes meeting yours the way they did in the kitchen.

You don’t know when he got this close or how your back ended up pressed against your front door. It’s silent between you, but the comfortable kind. Words not ready to be said out loud being exchanged through looks and the tips of his fingers brushing against yours.

“Thank you again for bringing me dinner, that was very sweet of you.” His voice is soft like his touches.

“It’s not a problem. It’s the least I could do really.” You look up at him from under your lashes, you’re ready for what was meant to happen in the kitchen now.

He hums a little to himself, interlacing your fingers with his. His eyebrows knitting together like he’s deep in thought. 

“Listen, I’m going on this camping trip next week with Bandit. Peaches would kill me if I let those plants die, maybe you wouldn’t mind coming by once to water them? I can give you my number, that way you know, we can talk about details or if something else breaks in your apartment.” He lets out a shaky laugh, and you squeeze his hand in reassurance.

“Gimme your phone Steve.”

His eyes widen and you can’t believe he’s shocked you said yes. He lets go of you to dig it out of his pocket, and you try to stifle a laugh at how frantic he seems.

You save your number under Tough Girl before handing it back to him with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth watching the way it makes his cheeks turn red when he reads it.

“I’ll - um text you with the dates,” he stutters a little slowly, backing away. 

“You could also just text me.” You shrug and it makes him miss the top step, catching himself on the railing. 

“Good to know.” The smile he gives you knocks the air out of your lungs. “Have a good night, tough girl.”

——

It’s only an hour later when you’re in bed, halfway asleep when you hear your phone buzz next to you. You wonder if he can see the way you smile like an idiot at your bright screen.

--

---

----

beta’d by @superblysubpar

dividers by @newlips

eddie munson edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

chapter six

[hydrngea]

Rafe x reader

They grew up together and as kids Rafe got reader a necklace and she still wears it to this day but Rafe doesn’t notice until she’s all dressed up for midsummer

(This is really random but I thought it was cute lol)

Ur writing is amazing btw! 🫶🏻

perfect pick

a/n : thanks sm!!! i appreciate the compliment :)) i didn’t completely answer the prompt but i might do a part 2 in a couple of days :))

notes : rafe cameron x reader, au to some extent featuring rafes mom before she disappeared.

masterlist | PART TWO

————

rafe could care less about your tenth birthday. in fact, the only reason he even knew it was coming up was because it was all you and sarah could ever talk about lately; what the theme would be, what kind of cake would be the best to eat, who should and should not be invited.

rafe cameron does not care about your birthday- which is why when his mom forced him to come along with her to pick out a present for you, all he wanted to do was jump out of the car and run away.

“but she’s not even my friend.” he whined as they entered the mall, keeping the door open for his mom to go in with wheezies stroller.

“no buts. she’s family, rafe.”

he groans, his steps heavy against the large and perfectly square porcelain tiles of tiffany’s.

“just because she’s your best friends daughter doesn’t mean i have to get her a present.”

his mom shushes him as they approach the jewelry counter, placing a hand on his shoulder before smiling at the associate.

the associate is too enthusiastic to be genuine at this time of day. rafe rolls his eyes at her sickly sweet tone while she asks what they’re looking for. he feels a nudge at his side and his face twitches with annoyance.

“a necklace.” he says under his breath, planning on choosing the first one the associate suggests.

she leads them to the left side of the store, hand gesturing to an array of really expensive necklaces for them to choose from.

“i’ll be right where you found me if you need any help with specifics.” she smiles before abandoning them.

rafe turns to look at his mom, who holds wheezie on her hip. “so?” he shrugs.

“hm?”

he shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts, “what one do you want?”

his mother laughs, adjusting wheezie on her hip and grabbing her hand, stopping her from dirtying the display with her chubby fingers. “i don’t want any of these. which one does y/n want?”

the question makes him think for a second. he doesn’t know what you would like. he flips through his memories for some sort of indication, but really he should just point to a random piece and call it a day.

red. he thinks, he remembers you saying your favorite color is red- on multiple occasions.

it was red like ladybugs 4 years ago. then red like pretty roses. red like red pandas a couple years before. red like taylor swifts iconic lipstick now.

he shakes his head, then points to a silver chain with a little red charm in it. “that.” he shrugs and then turns on his heel, before his mom can question if its the best choice.

…

he fidgets with the black ribbon wrapped neatly on top of the gift box theyd put the necklace in, eyes tracing over the bolder lettering over and over again as they walked back to the parking lot. he avoids making eye contact with his mom, like for some reason it’d trigger her to go on another rant about how he should act gentlemanly when he gives her the present or at least act like he cares.

they make it to the car without any conversation, save for some half-coherent blabber here and there from wheezie. he slips into the passenger seat while his mom buckles in wheeze into her carseat, the box still in his hands.

halfway through the car ride, the silence between them is broken. “i know you don’t like to talk about your feelings rafe, but you don’t do a great job at hiding your facial expressions.”

“mom,” he groans, leaning the back of his head deep into the leather seat of her escalade.

“i can tell you have a soft spot for her.” she continues, pressing on the brakes as they approach a red light.

“i don’t.” rafe grumbles, fingernail digging into the box and leaving a mark.

“deny all you want, but i saw the way you looked thinking about her. it’ll catch up to you one day.”

he finally brings his gaze to her, his blue eyes meeting her mirroring irises with a glint of curiosity over what her words mean. he makes to open his mouth, to ask what she means by the look. to ask what’s going to catch up to him. but then reminds himself it doesn’t matter and stops himself.

he doesn’t have anything to catch up to him, because he doesn’t have any sort of feelings for y/n.

there’s no way he feels something towards you- could he?

he shakes his head, putting the box to his side and out of his lap and flickering his eyes to his window. why is he letting his mom get into his head?

he doesn’t care about you. doesn’t care about hee stupid birthday, or even care much about the stupid present he chose for you.

—————-

your tenth birthday party is excatly how you wanted it to be. it’s perfectly decorated, with red streamers hung all over the downstairs of your house and taylor swift themed snacks and games. you were having the time of your life, drunk off shirley temples in fancy alcholol flutes.

you notice a stain on your birthday sash and you pout. quickly excusing yourself to drop off the sash in your room, you rush out of your back patio and into the house, making your way towards the stairs when you bump into someone’s solid chest.

here’s one thing to note; regardless of what everyone says, you do not like rafe cameron. “oh, rafe.” you say, taking a small step back-you can feel your cheeks burn under his gaze.

okay fine, the previous statement was a lie. but not completely, it was only a small crush. tiny. as big as the sprinkles on your birthday cake.

“here.” he shoves a small gift bag into your hands and then hastily walks away before you can ask what it is.

the interaction leaves you somewhat disoriented but also flustered, skin pink and pulse fast.

on your past birthdays, you always get one present from sarah and one from her parents. and that’s what you think it is, a present from sarah’s family.

you bring the bag up with you into you room and pull the sash off your body, throwing it into a random corner of your room.

you know it’s bad etiquette to open presents before it’s time, but for some reason you’re too drawn to the gift bag to wait. you peak your head out your bedroom door and find that the coast is clear, and open the bag, pulling out a small teal box with a black ribbon wrapped around it. you shake it close to your ear, guessing it’s some sort of jewelry and grin to yourself when you realize you’re right

you open the box and find the most perfect necklace ever. it’s silver, with a small red heart attached to its chain with your initial engraved onto it.

you’ll have to thank mrs and mr cameron for the gift. it might be even better than the one sarah got you.

you hear your mom call for you from the bottom of the stairs and you quickly shove the box into the top drawer of your dresser, leaving the bag on top of your bed before hurrying back downstairs to rejoin the party.

——-

you’re confused when mrs cameron hands you another gift bag when it’s time to open presents.

“another one?” you ask with your brow furrowed, though you aren’t complaining.

“from me, ward and wheeze.” she hands it to you with a warm smile and a quick wink.

that’s when it clicks that the present wasn’t from who you thought it.

you slip away from the party and rush back up to your room, grabbing the original bag and digging inside for a card or an indication form who it could be from.

there’s a note stuck to the bottom of the bag, made of ripped loose leaf and written with a dull pencil.

“happy birthday” it says, with no signature. but you don’t need one to know who it’s from.

suddenly, your heart starts hammering and your face starts to swell with a smile.

you can’t believe it- rafes the one who got you the necklace, and somehow he managed to make it perfect.

—-

authors note part 2 : i want to say this is extremely UNEDITED so i apologize for any errors and incoherences etc ! there’s a 90% chance i’m gonna take this down and repost this with edits lol.

taglist : @mrsstarkey1 @maybankslover @of-many-fandomss @dearreader03 @penny4yourthoughts @willowpains

PART 2

[wanderer-six]

Sleepless Nights

AN: Had an idea for the reader as the batch's Jedi General finding it hard to sleep when she's on Kamino with them (their room is probably so miserable and also the couch is the only open real estate LOL), turned into cute drabbles for every member of the batch! Enjoy ♥♥

Relationships: Did a drabble for every member of the Batch individually; established relationship for all of them!

Summary: You are the Jedi General for the Bad Batch. On a rare stay on Kamino, you find yourself restless in the Batch's barracks. You sneak away in hopes of making yourself sleepy, but with little luck. Thankfully, your favorite clone sweetheart finds you and does his best to help.

WARNINGS: They are all just fluff EXCEPT HUNTER bc he is a whore (fingering, dirty talk) - put him last in line to be safe/in case u do not want to deal with him (VALID)

Word Count: About 2k per boy, ~6.5k total!

Try as you might to fade off to sleep, you can’t do much more than stare at the ceiling.

In an event nearly as rare as a cool day on Mustafar, the Bad Batch had returned to Kamino for a brief stay. Though the visit wouldn’t last long—just enough time to refuel and restock—you now find yourself staying overnight in the Batch’s barracks. Since you’ve become their “de facto” Jedi General, they were kind enough to clear some space in their very cluttered room so that you had a place to sleep on the couch by the window.

And, as considerate a gesture as that was, the stiff Kaminoan furniture fails to bring you the same comfort as your bed in the temple.

Sighing quietly, you loll your head to the side, making out the room in the faint light. Unlike you, it seemed all five of your companions slept soundly. Tech had passed out, datapad in hand, while Echo slept bundled under a dozen blankets in his makeshift hammock. Hunter’s long hair was a complete mess, and Crosshair was about as quiet and stiff as a corpse. Wrecker, in contrast, snored so loudly that you weren’t certain how any of you ever got any rest. But even with how loud he was, the other four had all managed to lapse into their dreams, getting all the rest they needed before you were to set out in the morning.

So even among the odd ones out, you were odder, still.

Wearily, you rub your eyes, turning away to look up at the window. Little drops of rain flecked against the transparisteel, and watching them roll down eased your mind. When you were younger—back before the war—rainy days on Coruscant were something you looked forward to. Your master would kindly allow you to stay in for the day, trading your studies for many hours spent reading with a hot cup of tea at your side. Though you couldn’t enjoy such luxuries anymore, the rain still brought you a warm feeling of nostalgia… a comfort that could rarely be replicated.

It makes you wonder if such a feeling could be the cure for your insomnia.

With one last glance at your companions, you gingerly shed the blanket you’ve been resting under. Careful not to make any noise, you step into your slippers and get to your feet. Though the chilly temperature of the Kaminoan facilities isn’t exactly pleasant in your shorts and tank top, you grab your blanket and power through it. Having spent as much time on Kamino as you have during the war, you’ve found a few places that you like to run off to every now and then—and you know that the spot you have in mind will make powering through the cold more than worth it.

Carefully, you tiptoe through the piles of electronics, mementos and trophies that litter the Batch’s room, making sure not to disturb a single thing as you make your way to the door. When you reach it at last, you let out the breath you’d been holding. With one last peek over your shoulder to ensure you haven’t disturbed any of your friends, you open the door—closing it just as swiftly when you’re on the other side.

Though they remain lit in a blinding white, the halls of Tipoca City are largely empty at this hour. You’re more than thankful for that, since you can’t imagine the looks you’d get walking around in your pajamas. You wind through the corridors, eventually making your way to a secluded elevator. When you enter, the door closes behind you, and you’re lifted up to your destination.

The elevator releases you into a small, quiet room with a large overhang and a window open to the elements at the far end. You would describe it as a “viewing deck”, but it was unlike the Kaminoans to build anything for sentimental value. Even still, the room served such a purpose for you, and that was good enough. You walk inside, and the room darkens as the elevator door shuts behind you. Only the ambient glow of the grey, stormy night over Kamino remains, and you couldn’t appreciate it more.

You roam a bit closer to the exposed window, and just as the cool breeze strikes you, you stop. Gently, you take a seat on the floor, facing the open sky. You deeply breathe in the smell of the rain, filled with memories of better days. The raindrops strike against the metal roof, and for a while, you simply sit in silence. Bundling your blanket around your shoulders a bit more tightly, you pout—though you feel more relaxed, it seems sleepiness is still not in your stars. It’s frustrating to say the least, and you can’t help but sigh.

You wonder if you’ll ever be able to rest tonight.

After a short while, something catches you by surprise. Without warning, you hear the quiet hum of the elevator doors. You’re nearly worried that the Kaminoans have come to chastise you for sneaking off into some secret lab of theirs. But when you look over your shoulder, peering through the yellow glow of the elevator lights, you see…

WRECKER

… the large frame of Wrecker, who stumbles into the room.

The poor thing’s eyes switch between half-lidded and fully closed, and it’s clear from the way he wobbles as he walks that he isn’t fully awake. However, that fact obviously hasn’t dampened his resolve to find you—something that you find all too adorable.

“Wrecker?” you call to him. In the sweetest way, he perks up when he hears your voice.

“... little tooka?” he grumbles, referring to you by the adorable nickname he’d given you when you first met. Rubbing one of his eyes, he tromps over to where you’re sitting. Before you can say another word, he plops down beside you, swiftly burgling you into his lap. You giggle in surprise—more so when he wraps you up tight in his big arms.

“Wrecker…!” you beam, wriggling in his embrace until you’re able to kiss his cheek. “What are you doing up, handsome? It’s late!”

Wrecker heaves a heavy sigh, keeping you snug in his embrace.

“You… you were gone…” he murmurs, rubbing his cheek absently against your head as he speaks. “Missed you…”

His voice trails off into a quiet hum, and he sets a gentle kiss on your temple. You’ve always enjoyed being in Wrecker’s embrace—short of being a Wookiee, he’s the biggest and cuddliest man in the whole galaxy. But with the war going on, you often find yourself hugging him when he’s wearing his cold, hard armor.

Tonight, however, he has no gear to speak of. With him in his blacks, you aren’t separated from him by a layer of plastoid-alloy composite. You can feel the warmth of his broad chest beneath the soft fabric, and his muscular arms make you feel safer than anything. He gives you soft butterfly kisses all over your face, lazily petting your head. You smile softly—he treats you just as kindly as he treats his Lula.

“I’m glad you came up here, but… you didn’t have to come looking for me, handsome,” you assure him. “I would’ve come back to the barracks eventually. I was just feeling a little restless, is all.”

Wrecker nods slowly, though with the way his eyes are firmly shut, you have no doubt he missed every word you said.

“Yeah, uh-huh…” he mumbles. He pauses for a moment, drawing a deep, steady breath. “... I love you so much.”

With a bright smile, you kiss his cheek. “I love you, too, Wrecker.”

Those words, in particular, manage to break through his sleepy haze. He dons a big grin—one so sweet you can’t help but giggle.

“I just wanna hold you like this forever,” he sighs. For a moment, his eyes open, and with the sweetest, meekest tone, he asks, “Will you always be my little tooka?”

Your heart aches with overwhelming affection for your poor, sleepy sweetheart. Gingerly, you drape your arms around his neck, drawing him in for a long, loving kiss—one that you hope tells him you’ll always be his better than words ever could.

When your lips part, he smiles again, bumping his nose awkwardly against yours. You laugh, giving him one last quick peck.

“Wrecker… as long as you stay this sweet, I’ll always, always be your little tooka,” you assure him, resting your forehead on his. “And nothing will ever change that. I promise.”

Overwhelmed with love, Wrecker lets out a big, happy sigh—cuddling you even closer against his chest.

“Little tooka… you’re the best girl in the whole galaxy,” he hums with the utmost contentment, “I love you so much, it… it’s not even funny.”

Though you smile at his outpouring of affection, you find yourself yawning for the first time that night. Something about the way Wrecker holds you so close, the rhythmic way his fingers run across your scalp, the warmth of his body against the cold of the stormy night…

Against all odds, you think your sweetheart is just the one to coax you off to sleep.

The two of you sit quietly for a short while, exchanging sweet nothings to one another as the rain turns from a churning storm to a gentle shower. When your eyelids feel about as heavy as Wrecker’s, you look up to him with a smile, setting your hand on his cheek.

“Well, sweetheart… we should probably head back to the barracks,” you whisper. “We don’t want the others to think we’ve gone missing when they wake up.”

With an obedient nod, Wrecker gets to his feet—carrying you in his arms all the while. Just as tired as he was when he came up to find you, he hobbles back to the elevator, though not without a kiss on your forehead along the way.

Wrecker carries you all the way back to the barracks, and though you expect him to lay you back down in your spot on the couch, he instead keeps you in his arms all the way to his bunk. Even as he retreats back under his covers, he holds onto you, making sure you’re snug as a brindlebug when he settles down at last—and in Wrecker’s arms, how could you be anything but?

With you cozy against his chest, Wrecker smiles down at you, giving you one last kiss on the forehead.

“Goodnight, lil’ tooka,” he whispers, “I love you.”

With a bright smile, you nuzzle your head into his neck as you wrap your arms around him (well, as close to “around him” as your arms can reach).

“Goodnight, Wrecker… I love you, too,” you answer.

And at long last, you fall asleep—finally comfortable in the arms of the sweetest boy in the galaxy.

ECHO

…Echo, whose bright eyes soften when you meet them. Though he clearly came to find you, he looks almost shy as he enters the room, stepping softly as he approaches your side.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

You smile. “Of course, Echo.”

Reassured by your words, Echo takes a seat to your right, heaving a long sigh as he stares into the storm pouring over Tipoca City. At first, he keeps quiet, as though not wanting to interrupt your peaceful silence. But when you lean your head on his shoulder, batting your eyes at him with a kind smile, he finds his courage.

“Can’t sleep?” he guesses.

With a lazy nod, you sigh.

“Yup. Just couldn’t keep my eyes closed,” you lament. “Usually, listening to the rain helps me get tired, but even that’s not working tonight…”

Echo chuckles. He wraps his arm around your waist, drawing gentle circles on your side with his thumb.

“Yeah… I’m right there with you,” he says. “If it’s not nightmares about Skako Minor, it’s Wrecker’s snoring. Either way, I’m lucky if I can get any rest.”

You flash him a sad smile, dotting a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth as a means to share your sympathy. With all he’s endured, you know just how hard Echo has had to fight on and off the battlefield to keep himself afloat. He’s told you time and again how much your love helps, and you hope he knows just how happy you are to give it.

“Well… I guess we’re in good company, then,” you smile, nuzzling your face further into the crook of his neck.

Softly, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah… insomnia isn’t half bad with you around,” he chuckles. After falling silent for another moment, Echo hums quietly. “You know, back in my old battalion, my brothers and I had a game we’d play whenever we were up late and trying to pass the time.”

“What’s that?” you ask with a tilt of your head.

“We would take turns naming as many planets as we could think of. If it was your turn, and you couldn’t name a planet, you lost,” he explained. The ghost of a smile formed on his lips, his gaze falling as memories of brothers long passed warmed him. “We used to go for hours. I don’t know that I ever won… half the time, I’d fall asleep before we even got to the end.”

The thought of young Echo, diligent and tenacious, spending long hours racking his brain for the name of just one more planet sent you into a fit of giggles. Echo’s smile warms beside you.

“What?!” he demands, hand squeezing your hip playfully.

“Nothing, nothing,” you insist. “I just can’t believe how cute you are, sometimes.”

Though a blush fills Echo’s cheeks, the bashful grin he wears below it lets you know your little compliments are working.

“Heh… I know you’re just trying to get my guard down so I might go easy on you,” he teases. Playfully, you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, go easy on me?” you scoff. “I spent years memorizing planets at the temple. You should be hoping I’ll go easy on you.”

Echo rolls his eyes, though the smile never falters on his lips.

“All right, then…” he chuckles. He pauses for a moment, as if he really needs to think about how he plans to open. “... Coruscant.”

“Wow; bold choice,” you snark, earning a chuckle from him. “How about… Kamino?”

“Raxus,” he returns immediately.

“Mandalore,” you shoot back.

“Ryloth.”

“Naboo.”

The two of you go back and forth, on and on, for what feels like hours. Given the number of planets you name, it probably is hours. Echo hadn’t been kidding about his experience—as many hundreds of planets that you know of from your studies at the temple, he seems to know even more. In a strange way, it’s really charming. Being able to name a thousand planets probably has next to no real-life applications, but it speaks volumes of that competitive spirit hidden in Echo that you admire like nothing else.

Eventually, the quickfire pace the two of you had kept up at the beginning slows to a crawl as fewer and fewer planets come to mind. You have to scour the farthest corners of your memory in hopes of remembering anything. 

“...oh! Hoth!” you manage. Echo swears under his breath, and you laugh. “You can give up any time, you know. I won’t gloat too much.”

With a fierce grin, Echo’s brow furrows. He seems to focus harder on this than on anything he has in his whole life.

“...Endor,” he says. When you don’t answer for a moment, Echo turns his head to you, finding a coy smirk on your lips. “...what?”

“I’m pretty sure Endor’s a moon,” you answer.

Echo’s eyes go wide.

“What? No way,” he spits. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” you repeat.

“Well… maybe it’s both!”

“Or maybe you just don’t want to admit you lost.”

“No, it could definitely be both!”

The two of you look into each other’s eyes for a long moment.

“... Tech would know,” you both say in unison.

As soon as the words leave your mouths, you both burst into laughter. You rarely have the opportunity to spend time like this anymore—just the two of you enjoying one another as people, admiring all there is to love about one another. But as you settle down from your giggling fit, enjoying the sight of Echo’s warm eyes as they gaze back at you, you thank the stars for every moment you have with him.

And you see fit to thank him with a kiss—one he eagerly returns.

When you pull away, the soft smile on Echo’s lips warms you to your core. He doesn’t go far, leaning into you as his forehead touches yours.

“You know… whenever those games didn’t work, or whenever I was alone… I had something else to help me get to sleep,” he confesses.

“Oh?” you ask. “What?”

He bumps his nose affectionately on yours, almost hesitant to share.

“Well… on those nights, it always helped to think about you,” he whispered.

The gentle tone of Echo’s voice kicked your heart into overdrive. With a bashful grin, you abruptly pull Echo into your arms, squeezing him so tight he can barely breathe.

“Oh, Echo…!” you coo. “When did you get so sweet?!”

Echo chuckled sheepishly. “Heh… sometime between nearly dying and now, I guess.”

Holding onto him for dear life, you can’t help the weariness that overcomes you. When a quiet yawn escapes your lips, Echo smiles.

“Finally tired, huh?” he asks.

“Mmm-hm,” you hum. Your weary eyes find his, filled with affection. “Thanks to you, handsome.”

Echo’s smile softens. Gently, his scomp link lifts your chin, and he offers you one last loving kiss before getting to his feet.

“Come on, then. Let’s get back to bed while we still have time to sleep,” he says. Once he’s standing, he offers his hand down to you, helping you to your feet all the same.

Hanging on Echo’s arm, you walk to the elevator, working your way back to the barracks. Once you settle back onto the couch, and Echo into his hammock, Echo reaches out to you. With a warm smile, you take his hand. Fingers intertwined with his, you finally drift off to sleep, warmed wholly by the love you share.

TECH

…the glare of Tech’s goggles against the dark room. You squint as your eyes adjust, shielding your face with one hand until the elevator doors close.

“Tech?” you call out as he makes his way over to you. “What are you doing here?”

He takes a seat beside you, perfectly casual.

“Looking for you, obviously,” he replies. “And now, I’ve found you.”

Without missing a beat, he produces his datapad in his hands, idly tapping away on it without a care. You find a smile on your lips—he’s nothing if not predictable.

“Looking for me? Aw, Tech,” you coo. “Were you worried?”

Tech hums. “Worried? Not so much. As a Jedi Knight, you are more than capable of defending yourself—far better than I could, I am sure. No, I was merely wondering where you had run off to. And why.”

You sigh softly, hugging your knees close to your chest.

“Well… I’m just a little restless tonight, that’s all,” you explain. “It happens every once in a while, I just can’t sleep. No idea why.”

“Hmm. I see,” Tech says. Not even bothering to look at you, Tech slides closer to your side. He wraps his free arm around you, beckoning you to rest your head on his shoulder as he knows you love to do. You smile, obliging him gladly—even if he does not show it in the way others might, he is still perfectly affectionate. “It could be any number of things.”

“Like what?” you ask.

He adjusts his goggles, clearing his throat quietly before he speaks again. Your eyes can’t help but drink in his every little action. The two of you have been close for some time now, but even before you expressed your feelings, you’d grown so fond of all of his mannerisms. Just watching Tech be Tech calms you like nothing in the galaxy.

“Barring more severe medical conditions, insomnia can result from a number of different causes—many of which are, regrettably, found in our typical living conditions,” he explains. “For example, disturbances in the form of loud sounds can prevent or disrupt someone’s sleep…”

“Wrecker?” you interrupt, causing him to glance at you. When he sees a small smirk on your lips, he matches it.

“Precisely,” he nods. “In addition, bright lights can disturb the brain’s circadian rhythm. Which, er…” He pauses, glancing warily between his glaring datapad and you. Awkwardly, he tilts the screen away from your face. “...sorry.”

With a laugh, you shake your head. “It’s okay, handsome. You were saying?”

Tech nods curtly, before continuing to list more and more of the conditions that might be affecting your sleep. The more he talks, the longer he rambles, you find yourself leaning further and further into him. Something in the way he speaks has you captivated, soothing you like a lullaby. He articulates himself so wonderfully, every consonant he strikes sending shivers through you.

It isn’t long before Tech catches on to the way you cling to him. He tilts his head curiously.

“Is something wrong?” he inquires. With a lazy smile, you shake your head.

“No… I just like listening to you talk,” you murmur.

Tech blinks, looking uncharacteristically flustered. “You do?”

“Mmhm,” you sigh. Batting your weary eyes at him, you lean forward just enough to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Will you keep talking, handsome?”

“W-Well… what about?” he asks.

You shrug, shutting your eyes again. “Whatever you want. Maybe ways to help me cure this little bout of insomnia?”

Tech looks over you with such fondness, eyes soft on you as you nuzzle your head into his shoulder. With a kind smile, he sets his datapad down beside him. He surprises you when he repositions himself, laying his legs out flat and allowing you to rest your head on his lap. Though you look up at him with uncertainty, he meets you with a kiss on your forehead.

“I would be glad to enlighten you, my dear,” he smiles, his voice now just above a whisper. “It is funny you should mention it. For some people, white noise is helpful to induce sleep. Things like the sound of the rain, or…” He pauses, awkwardly clearing his throat. “...or someone’s voice.”

You beam up at him, and he smiles shyly back at you. Gentle and sweet, his fingers begin to trace all along your head, soothing you with every last touch. Your eyes flutter closed, utterly lost in his attention.

“Hmm… does it work extra well if it’s the voice of the sweetest man in the galaxy?” you murmur, a teasing smile on your lips.

“I would not think so,” he answers. “But, if I am the man you are referring to, I am inclined to give my best effort for you.”

You chuckle. “Of course I’m referring to you, Tech. I love you, you know…”

Opening your eyes just as long as you can manage, you gaze up at him with the overwhelming affection in your heart. Gently, he cups your cheek with his hand, pressing a delicate kiss on each of your eyelids.

“And I love you more,” he answers, not a hint of doubt in his voice. “Now, just relax. I will take care of you.”

Never have you trusted anyone more than you trust him. With a nod, you close your eyes again, fully submitting to Tech’s care. His voice and his touch relieve your every worry, and before long, you finally find yourself drifting off at last.

You sleep with a smile, his kind words carrying you to your dreams.

CROSSHAIR

… the piercing gaze of none other than Crosshair. When his eyes find you, his usually stern expression softens just slightly.

Wordlessly, he crosses the room, quiet as a lothcat. He approaches you from behind, sitting down and pulling you between his legs. You giggle as his lithe form all but engulfs you, his chest against your back and his chin atop your head. When his arms snake under yours and wrap around your waist, you rest your hands on his, falling fully victim to his embrace.

“Well, hello to you, too,” you smirk. “Did you miss me?”

Crosshair exhales sharply.

“Hm. Not really,” he replies, though you can hear the grin on his lips.

You lean further into him, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck.

“Aww, not even a little?” you press him.

Crosshairs grip on your waist tightens. He squeezes your sides just enough to make you squeak.

“Not in the slightest,” he fibs.

With a warm smile, you sigh into the cold night air, perfectly content in Crosshair’s arms.

“Well, I missed you… and I’m happy you found me,” you assure him.

He hums a quiet affirmation, before the two of you fall silent, enjoying the gentle ambience of the storm. You can think of very few people you’d feel so comfortable with in this situation—any other silence would beg you to speak and dash it away. But with Crosshair, you feel no obligation to talk for talking’s sake. Neither one of you had much patience for people who just liked the sound of their own voice. No, you two could communicate more than effectively without a word.

And with how he holds you now, you fully understand the depths of his love for you.

The two of you remain in comfortable quiet for quite some time, until at last, the gentle purr of Crosshair’s voice meets your ear.

“Can’t sleep?” he murmurs.

Sighing, you nod. “Mmhm.”

“Hmm.”

He falls quiet again. Idly, his nimble hands trace along your waist. You let them roam—you would never point it out to him, given how sensitive he can be, but you’ve grown quite fond of the way his hands seem to trace you when he holds you like this. He has so many little quirks, and you’ve come to appreciate all of them in your time together. It’s what makes him the man you love, after all.

“You should take my bunk,” he says.

“Hm?” you ask. “Then where will you sleep?”

“On the couch. Obviously.”

With a pout, you crane your head to look at him, only to find him already gazing back at you. The way he looks at you always draws a blush to your cheeks—it’s so intense, so sincere… you never feel more safe, nor more vulnerable. “Sweetheart, I’ll be okay,” you promise. Gently setting your hand on his cheek, you smile. “I can fall asleep eventually. You don’t have to give up your bunk just for me…”

Crosshair huffs—that cute little sigh he heaves whenever you argue with him.

“It’s fine. Between Wrecker and the storm, I wasn’t getting much sleep, anyhow,” he assures you. “Besides, you need the rest more than I do.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Hey, I’m a Jedi, remember? I can last a lot longer without sleep than you can.” Your gaze softens, and you run your thumb along his cheekbone. “And you never get a good night’s rest. You deserve it, Cross.”

Despite your affectionate words, Crosshair frowns. He narrows his eyes at you, before closing them entirely. With a weary groan, he presses his forehead against yours.

“Love, can you please stop being so stubborn just this once?” he grumbles. “I know it’s hard for you, since it seems your favorite thing to do is argue with me. But please.”

Now it’s your turn to frown. You bump your nose against his.

“It’s my second favorite thing, thank you very much.” Tilting your head, you kiss him softly, pulling away with an emphatic ‘mmwah’ to his utmost embarrassment. “That is my favorite. But okay, you win. I’ll take your bunk.”

For a moment, he seems satisfied, the slightest grin creeping onto his lips. He leans in to kiss you again, but before he can, you speak once more.

“If…”

Crosshair’s brow furrows. “If what?”

“If you sleep there with me.”

Immediately, his eyes go wide. You feel his body tense up around you, and he rears back just slightly. You know it isn’t the prospect of sharing a bed with you that has him so worried—the two of you have more than grown familiar with each other by now. Rather, he fears those who will awake to find you sharing a bed together: his brothers. If there’s one thing Crosshair cannot stand, it’s giving anyone the upper hand on him, even for something like a little teasing.

Cupping his face in your hands, you meet his gaze with warm eyes.

“Hey,” you assure him, “if they say anything, I’ll beat them up. Okay?”

Crosshair utters the softest chuckle, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. Begrudgingly, he sighs, setting his hands on yours before leaning in to kiss you.

“... fine,” he concedes at last.

You beam, touched as always by the way he’s always so willing to compromise for you. Getting to your feet, you take his hands into yours, helping him up all the same. When he stands, you keep his hands in yours, pulling him just low enough so you can kiss him once more.

“I love you, Cross,” you whisper. He gazes down at you, eyes alight with such affection that you know he only reserves for you. Tenderly, he presses a kiss atop your head, allowing his lips to linger there.

“I love you, too,” he returns.

When you finally return to the barracks, you find yourself cozy and snug in Crosshair’s bunk. Given it has an actual mattress, it’s far more comfortable than the couch by the window—made even more so by the embrace of your beloved sniper. In his arms, sleep finds you more easily than it has in years. The gentle caress of his hands is the last thing you feel before you finally drift off.

HUNTER (NSFW)

… Hunter, whose tired eyes light up with a smile when he spots you.

“There you are,” he hums, with the most handsome gravel in his weary voice. “I was wondering where you ran off to…”

You smile warmly at him as he saunters up beside you. He takes a seat next to you, not shy at all to wrap his arm around your waist when he does.

“How’d you find me? I thought I covered my tracks very well,” you ask with a grin. He smirks back at you.

“Really? All those sleemos I’ve tracked down on our missions and you want to know how I could follow you here?” he teases, pinching your cheek playfully.

With a giggle, you shake his hand off of you. “Hey, it never hurts to double check.”

Hunter presses a kiss to your temple. His lips feel warm, even more when compared to the cold breeze from outside.

“What are you doing up so late, cyar’ika?” he asks you softly. With an awkward smile, you shrug.

“I wish I knew,” you sigh, gaze falling to the floor. “For some reason I just can’t sleep tonight. I don’t know why…” You pout, hugging your knees against your chest. “It’s annoying, that’s for sure.”

Hunter nods solemnly.

“Yeah, I can imagine,” he hums. “This war’s exhausting, but I still find it hard to close my eyes some nights…”

He falls quiet for a moment. The sound of the rain and the warmth of Hunter’s embrace fill you with a sense of peace.

“What about you?” you ask.

He tilts his head. “What about me?”

“What has you up so late, huh?”

A sly smirk forms on Hunter’s lips. He shrugs a shoulder, all too casual.

“Well, I was sound asleep, but a little someone saw fit to leave me all by my lonesome in the barracks,” he sighs. “Guess I just got restless.”

You grin, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Oh? Your brothers weren’t good enough company?” you tease.

Hunter chuckles; the hand on your waist lingers lower, his fingers skirting the hem of your shorts and making you shiver. He leans in close to you, lips nearly touching yours.

“Well… they’re not the kind of company I’m after tonight,” he purrs.

A blush fills your cheeks. Unable to resist his charm, you close the gap between you, meeting Hunter in a kiss that deepened by the moment. As his tongue slipped between your lips, you felt him hoist you into his lap, facing you away from him. He parts from the kiss with a low growl in his chest, before trailing more softly down your neck.

“Hunter…” you breathe, eyes falling shut as he lavishes you with affection. 

His warm lips come second only to his warm hands that have since found their way under your shirt. His every caress causes heat to rise beneath your cheeks—even more when his palms land firmly on your chest.

You hum his name again, breath hitching as his fingers toy with your breasts. Behind you, his chest presses against your back. Even without all his armor, he feels so strong… so big. You know that, in his arms, you would always be safe. Well… safe from the other dangers of the galaxy—certainly not safe from him.

“You know what helps me when I can’t sleep?” he asks, breath tickling your neck. You manage a chuckle—although a moan quickly overtakes it when Hunter’s teeth bear down on your flesh.

“I could wager a guess,” you tease. You feel Hunter smile against you.

“Really?” While one hand continues to coddle your breasts, another meanders slowly down your torso. “Why don’t you tell me, then?”

Though you wish to continue playing hard to get, Hunter’s attention makes that difficult. Your words stick in your throat when his hands breach the waistband of your shorts, fingers creeping over your panties. When he strokes over the wet spot in the fabric, you whimper in spite of your best efforts. Deft swipes offer just enough friction to drive you mad with want, but his strong arms hold firm against your attempts to rut into his hand.

“Well? Out with it,” he growls. His lips press to your ear, your heart thrumming against your chest when he adds, “Tell me what you want.”

With the way Hunter’s fingers work you outside of your panties, he must know that you hardly have the composure to make such a request of him. Your groans as you vye desperately to speak the words he wishes must still fill him with some satisfaction—enough that you can feel how hard he is against your back.

“Hunter… please…” you manage, biting your lower lip when he deepens his pressure just slightly.

“Don’t be shy, cyar’ika,” he purrs. “Say it.”

Meeting his gaze with hazy eyes, you sigh.

“Make me come, Hunter…”

You can practically hear the grin on his lips when those words leave you at last. He presses a soft kiss to your temple.

“Heh… anything for you, love,” he smirks.

Swiftly, Hunter pushes your panties to the side; when his hands touch you, now with nothing in the way, the mewl he draws from you sounds so pathetic that you thank every star for the raging storm outside to drown you out. His calloused fingers draw circles around your aching clit, now drenched in the wetness that resulted from his teasing. Only he knew you this well—well enough to have you trembling in his lap, babbling half-formed thoughts of your desire, completely and utterly helpless.

As if you couldn’t get worse, Hunter’s other hand soon joins the first. Not once stopping his motions on your clit, his fingers find your cunt, slipping inside of you with ease. Your walls clench around him, your every sense overwhelmed with ecstasy. The sound of your wetness against his hands, the taste of his needy tongue, the smell of his sweat and yours, the sight of his half-lidded eyes, and the feeling… it was all too much to bear.

Edging closer and closer, your hands reached behind you, finding purchase in Hunter’s hair. You rest your forehead against his, struggling to meet his gaze, but needing to all the same.

“Hunter…” you breathe, a whimper interrupting your train of thought. “I-I…”

Knowing exactly what you want—what you need—Hunter grins. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip, meeting you in one last longing kiss.

“Go on, cyare—come for me,” he whispers. The sensual rasp of his voice combined with the magic he works between your legs has you obeying his orders with ease, tension building to your climax. “That’s it… beautiful…”

You come hard on his hands, your cunt fluttering around his fingers as they pulse into you still. The movements on your clit do not relent, either, elongating your orgasm into something unbearably pleasurable. It feels like minutes before he’s done with you—and minutes before you’re done, as a result. But, eventually, his touch slows, bringing you down from your highest high and lulling you into your warm afterglow.

Breathless and spent, you collapse against Hunter, nuzzling your face lazily into his neck. He brings his wet fingers up to your lips, and you lazily allow them into your mouth, gently sucking them clean for him.

“How do you feel?” he asks, a warm smile on his lips. When you open your mouth to answer, a yawn is all that comes out, making him chuckle. “See? It always works. Come on,” he wraps you up tight in his arms, before getting to his feet, “let’s get you to bed.”

Though you want nothing more than to cozy up to sleep right now, you pout up at him.

“What about you?” you ask, hating the thought of leaving him without all the attention he showered you with. With a smirk, he planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t worry about me; as long as you’re ready for bed, I got what I came for,” he explains. He raises an eyebrow, grin turning mischievous as he adds, “And… I’m sure you’ll have time to make it up to me before we deploy in the morning.”

Giggling, you leaned up just far enough to give Hunter a soft kiss. He returns it happily, even as he carries you back to the elevator to make your return to the barracks.

“You know I’m good for it,” you hum. With a soft sigh, your eyes fall shut. “I love you, Hunter…”

Though you’re fading fast in his arms, you feel his lips on your head one last time.

“I love you, too, cyare.”

You’re asleep before the elevator doors can close behind you.

AN: Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed - pls tell me which was ur fav LOL I like them all for different reasons but I think Tech ASMR and Wrecker Hugs are my fav. And as always please lemme know if u see any tagging/formatting issues✨✨

"""taglist""" - @shinyshayminflower @starrylothcat

[lottiies]

re2r! Leon asking reader out for the first time n he plans out a whole date but reader actually hates the place he picks out LOL but powers through anyways just to get to know this cute boy but then he kinda catches on and feels bad oops obsessed with rookie leon can u tell

NO I GET YOUR OBSESSION HE’S SO CUTE

um…i wrote a quick snippet on this for funsies ⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝ fingers crossed for no typos

his plan was to first head to get some lunch. something casual, dinner would be too…stress inducing. he already sucked at talking with women, he needed everything to go smoothly. plus, food is the key to one’s heart, right? after that, you guys could walk around the nearby blocks, the place is surrounded with small stores full of all sorts of things like thrift and records stores, it was a great way to get to know each other’s interests and spare you from his natural awkwardness. it was a safe area, he would know, no calls from there ever reached the police department.

anyways!! the date was at stage one, and he thought everything was going really well! he had you laughing at his god awful jokes and your eyes never really strayed from his for too long. not once did you pick your phone up either. okay, he’s not boring you.

but after a while of chatting he glances down and realizes that you’ve only taken a bite of your food! maybe even a small second pity bite. at least you seemed to like your drink it was kind of hard to mess that up.

he gets all nervous immediately </3 if he fucked up the literal first part of the date, then maybe that would follow through onto the next portion. he’s cursed. well great, weren’t first impressions the most important? what if he came off as inconsiderate because he hadn’t noticed until half an hour in? geez, he wouldn’t be surprised if you pulled the whole ‘i need to go to the restroom’ bit and then ghosted his ass.

of course you didn’t, though! leon was such a sweetheart and his crooked smiles and awkward mannerisms brought warmth to your chest.

normally, this would have irked you just a bit. you were really fucking hungry. you hadn’t eaten breakfast since you had been too busy getting ready and gushing to all your friends about your upcoming date. like, you were sure if the music in the background was playing any lower, your stomach grumbling noises would be on blast…which would be really embarrassing. and who the hell was happy when they were hungry?

well…at the moment, you were. you liked him, genuinely. oh yeah, a crummy lunch order won’t deter you from being involved in his life!! your gut is telling you he’s the one, you can take the hunger.

“not a fan of the food?” he masked his nervousness with a smile as he gestured to your plate with his hand.

“oh, um…” after a shy moment of silence, you shook your head. “not really, but it’s totally okay! the place has some pastries that i was eyeing earlier…so maybe i’ll just grab one when we leave to walk around.”

maybe your kindness should reassure him but it made his palms all sweaty instead. you were so his type, he couldn’t mess this up.

“you…you sure? i could order something else for you right now.”

“no no no.” you reached for his hand, clasping it in yours. “don’t leave! i just wanna keep talking to you.”

he melted, his cheeks a subtle rosy shade. he looked down at your hands before glancing back up at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “yeah? thought this would make me lose points or something.”

if anything, he gained some in the cuteness department.