#and now i need to get the ladder out and take the curtains down and wash them and i threw the rug out and i need to mop

[xxnghtclls]

Flickering Lights

Chapter 2: A Tall, Pink Haired Man

Chapter (1/3)

True Form Sukuna x Reader

For tags and synopsis, please see Chapter 1!

Bam!

You slam the door shut behind you. Finally you’re home in your small apartment, still thinking about what happened in your office. Sitting down on one of your two chairs, you absentmindedly tap with your key into the surface of your kitchen table.

Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap.

“Who was that?” you mumble to yourself, while your leg is wiggling nervously. “Where and… why? Four eyes and four arms, too?”

A pause.

Tap. Tap.

“HOW?” you blurt out loudly and distort your face in confusion. Your brain is so tired.

Shaking your head, you decide to get up and get a hot shower.

-Monday me- is going to have a huge problem, leaving the office like this.

“This” meaning a broken window, a crack in the floor and the wall. Your computer is for the trashcan, too. A fucking mess.

Motherfucker. 

You kind of hope it was a dream, a hallucination or a lightning. Monday you will get back to your same old habit, going to work and writing emails, lists and calculations. And then Tuesday. And then Wednesday. Thursday. Friday.

Sigh.

Rashhhhh

You close the shower curtain in front of your face and turn on the water. Warm steamy drops are tickling your face and calming your nerves. Sleepiness washes over you with the steamy warmth and you’re quick to finish soaping you up. You let out a big yawn, as you turn off the water and step out. 

“Time for bed.” you sigh, before you brush your teeth and dry yourself. Taking your phone with you, you carry yourself up the ladder to your elevated sleeping space. The perks of living in tokyo.

Mini studio apartments.

Crawling onto the futon, you pull the blanket up to your nose. A last time you peek onto your phone, before your eyes shut themselves.

- 01:38 a.m. -

“Goodnight...” you mumble, before you fall asleep. “Stranger.”

♫ Up with the sun, gone with the wind, she always said I was lazy-

“The fuck?” you breathe into the darkness, still half asleep, as you peek onto your phone, trying not to get blind from your display brightness.

- 6:00 a.m. - 

“Ughhh shut up, Bob.” you groan, as you shut your alarm off. You must have forgotten to adjust the settings in your alarm to workweek only, after you had to get up for an out of schedule meeting last saturday. 

But, today is free.

You close your eyes and think about what you want to do today.

Get new earphones perhaps. Get groceries. Find out who…who…  

Zzzzz…

After a moment, you send another peek to your phone.

- 10:12 a.m. -

“Good morning sunshine.” you grumble to your sleepy self, before you yawn and stretch. “Sorry Bob, now you can sing.” you mumble and put on Bob Seger’s song that ripped you out of sleep earlier. 

-play-

“Travelin maan, love when I caan. Turn loose my hand ‘cause I’m goiingg.” you sing, as you’re making yourself some eggs for breakfast, checking your social media inbetween. You roll your eyes, as you read that there’s some unnecessary discourse over something unimportant AGAIN and you swear to yourself, that you’re going to delete that app sooner or later. It just makes you angry. 

Fucking idiots.

Your eggs are ready and you sit down, take a bite and text your bestie Mio. 

Oy. Akiba in 45 mins?

👍

Good. Need new headphones. Mine broke last night.

No wonder. Get some real ones.

You huff at her text.

“No way.” you smile, as you’re putting your phone away and shove the last bite of eggs into your mouth. You need to get dressed quickly, in order to catch the next train to Akihabara. 

On your trainride, you stare out of the window across from you. Listen to the railway and see the houses passing by, the sun shining onto the roofs, before the train goes underground again. Silhouettes and moving lights run along the window.

Moving lights. Flickering lights.

And suddenly you remember last night. 

What happened?

That creature, that… man. 

How unusual he looked and how his eyes pierced through your soul. 

Uncanny. 

You wonder if you should tell Mio about it. 

Maybe not…

Maybe it was a dream or a hallucination or a lightning after all.

…That rip in space definitely.

But what if he was not?

“Excuse me, is everything alright?” an elderly woman that’s sitting right next to you asks you. 

You must’ve zoned out, looking so concentrated… maybe even, as if you’re constipated or something. 

“No, I’m fine. Sorry- I mean, thank you.” you force a smile at her, before you pull out your phone to look busy at least.

And you start to scroll on your socials. 

And scroll.

And scroll. 

And scroll.

Not thinking anything, just remembering that man’s face. Those tattoos. The nose.

Kinda pretty nose, you think as your lips turn into a pout.

Two slits in his eyebrows.

That mask.

So interesti-

Wait what?

Interesting…?

Sigh.

…He is.

You get out at Suehirocho Station and walk to the next 7-eleven, the point where you’re going to meet with Mio. She’s not there yet, so you decide to walk in and buy an Onigiri. 

Only one? 

No, two. 

For later. 

Of course you open the first one immediately and bite into it. The first bite is always the best.

Goddamn.

You love it. Closing your eyes, to savour the taste, you stand in front of the store, enjoying the bliss.

“Oy, peanut!” Mio’s voice comes up behind you. You turn around and nudge your head to her, shooting her a look. 

“What’s up?” you say with your mouth full.

“Got one for me, too?” she eyes your Onigiri.

“No.” you bite into it another time.  

She cocks her eyebrows at you, probably already knowing that you bought two and that you don’t want to share, before a little pout cracks upon her lips.

“Get your own!” you complain, before she pokes her finger into your arm. 

“I’ll get you some snacks later!” she coos.

“Fine!” complain and offer her a bite of your last piece. 

“Mwuah hah hah!” she laughs deeply in excitement, before she gulps down the whole remaining Onigiri. “I know you love me.”

“Ehhh.” you sigh, letting your shoulders sink, disappointed that she ate it all.

“Sorry.” she brushes off her hands on her jacket. “Anyway, let’s go, my greedy little peanut.” she says, before she hooks her arm into yours. “Did you cut your hair?” 

You laugh her question off, as you both start to walk into the city.

While on the search for new 5000 yen headphones, you both keep bullying each other lovingly, laugh and talk about the week. No matter how exhausting your workweek is, she always manages to distract your mind, makes you feel not as lonely. She really is the light of your week. 

You don’t really know how it came to this. To feel like this in this city of millions. You used to go out, to dance and fuck a guy every now and then. But maybe it was just the start of how you feel now. The nights of clubbing grew rare, the nights at the computer and phone listening to music grew more frequent. Because nothing could really satisfy it. This hole in your heart. Listening to music helps. Spending time with Mio helps, but only to a degree. Because you wish for a change in your life. More than work and eat and shower and sleep. More than everyday life.

However, you decide not to tell her about what happened last night. Maybe you’ve gone crazy after all. Even if you’re not, you still feel odd about it. Feel, like it might be the change you yearned for, an adventure. 

Feel like it only belongs to you.

Quickly you find some new headphones and earn a mocking joke from the side, while Mio continues to buy herself a new phone case. Huge, pink and with little glittery stones and charms.

So ugly.

“Don’t look at me like that, when you’re the one who walked around with a Hello Kitty phone for the longest time!” she complains.

“At least I wasn’t mistaken for a disco ball.” you sneer at her.

You walk to another store to get your promised snacks and after a while, when the hottest gossip is done being discussed, you catch yourself getting silent inbetween.

Because your mind wanders off.

Because you remember.

Those eyes.

Dangerous.

Sometimes she notices and throws you a glance, but you just wave it off, excuse it with sleepless nights because of work. 

And she buys it.

At least you hope she does.

“I need to get home.“ you sigh, as you arrive at the next train-station. “I still need to get some groceries. I’m gonna gonna see you next week?”

She sighs too and stops in her tracks. You turn and look to her, seeing her face turning serious. Suddenly the energy shifts. You halt and frown at her in confusion.

Something’s wrong.

“What?” you ask. 

“I need to tell you something.” she looks to the ground and it makes you worried.

“What is it?” you poke her shoulder. 

She hesitates.

“You’re gonna hate it…” she mumbles and your heart starts pounding. You hate situations like this. Last time she acted like this, she told you she lost the one pair of very expensive headphones you bought in your life. You hated her for it, but you learned your lesson. 

Crossing your arms, you keep staring at her, almost holding your breath, trying to remember what kind of item you possibly could’ve lent her recently.

A pause.

“I’ll be on a work trip.-”

“Jesus.” you complain, as you exhale loudly in relief, rolling your eyes.

“For the next week.” she continues, a smug smirk on her face. So proud, knowing to have you fooled so good. “Coming back on Sunday night.”

You sigh.

“I’ll manage!” you exclaim snobbish into her face, but deep down, you know it’s gonna be hard. You’re not gonna see her for two weeks and you’re gonna miss her. A lot. Next to the fact that you can’t meet up with her next weekend, she’ll be busy too and not be able to text you much during the week either.

She punches your shoulder, before you grab her sleeve.

“Come.” you tug on it. “We gotta wish you a safe travel and return.” you mumble, as you drag her with you.

“Huh?” she exclaims, but gives up and willingly walks down to the underground with you. 

“I didn’t go to the Meiji shrine in a while. Let’s hang up an Ema there.” you fiddle with her sleeve, as you’re both sitting next to each other in the train towards Yoyogi Station.

“Is everything alright?” she asks and you notice real concern in her voice. 

She knows something’s up.

“I think I need to go out more, Mio.” you mumble. “If you’re not here to cheer me up, I need to see someone else then.”

“Sounds as if you’re already have someone in mind.” she jokes and you feel the heat rising in your ears, feel caught.

“Yeah.” you fake-laugh, before you try to change the topic. “Where are you going next week?”

“We’re going to have some meetings in Gifu. But also team-building events, this sort of stuff.” she says, while fiddling with her new phone case and you nod.

“Never went there.” you respond. “Tell me if it’s nice, yes?” 

“Sure, little peanut.” she smiles, before she looks back at you. You smile back before, looking around in the wagon.

“Maybe you should go out while I’m gone.” she says, making you look back at her. “Try to focus less on work and have some fun. Treat yourself.” she punches you in your arm again. 

Hard.

“Ow!”

“It’s just work after all.”

“I shall.” you hiss, while you rub your hand over the soon-to-be bruise, as the train stops at Harajuku-Station.

After a short walk, Mio and you arrive at the entrance of the shrine. It’s busy, just like the last time you visited, but as soon as you walk through the Torii, it grows calmer with each second. You might not believe, that in you’re a city of millions, when you walk through the beautiful area around the shrine. Trees and plants seal yourself off the loud noises of the streets. 

Quiet.

Maybe I need a vacation.

“I’m thirsty.” Mio longingly says, as you walk past the huge Sake barrels. 

You snort at her comment.

“Mio Mio Mioooo.” you squeak like a bird. “You called me greedy.”

“That’s what you are.” she chimes. “I know you still have that second Onigiri in your jacket.”

“Shut your mouth.” you smile, while you look up to see the sunlight shine through the branches of the trees, as a gentle breeze flows against your faces. It’s beautiful at this place, but somehow, a weird feeling grows in your gut. 

After a ten minute walk along the shrines nature, you arrive at the camphor trees where the Emas are hanged upon. Mio steps forward, reading some of the wishes that are already hung up. After purchasing a little wooden plate yourself, you tipple to the desks and start writing. 

For my lovely Mio. 

Please let her have the safest travel, a lot of fun and a more safer return to her little peanut.

You draw a little raccoon in the corner, since that’s her favourite animal and turn around, ready to hang it up, only to notice, that Mio holds a little wooden plate in her own hand as well.

“No! I already got one!” you wiggle it into her direction, before you hang it up. 

She steps into the corner of your eyes, hanging her own plate right next to yours. You’re about to complain that she bought an unnecessary one, as your eyes catch what she wrote.

For my lovely y/n.

Please let her have the most fun, good food and a little adventure, until her Mio returns.

“Is this for me?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Bro, it’s your name right there!” she sneers as if you’re stupid, tapping her knuckle loudly against the plate.

Your heart warms up, before you continue in a serious voice.

“You forgot to draw a cat.” 

“I cannot draw a cat.”

“Bullshit. Everyone can draw a cat.” you wave her off and turn around, only to see-

Oh shit.

You freeze in your spot, as you see that tall man from last night standing in front of the holy praying area of the shrine. His back is turned to you, but his height, his black cloak and the pink spiky hair is proof enough.

A sinister energy reaches your feet and crawls up your legs.

“What’s up?” Mio asks, as she notices how you froze in your spot, tugging at your sleeve.

Your heart starts pounding. 

Badum. Badum. Badum.

In the corner of your eyes, you see Mio catching focus on that man herself.

“I’ve never seen a guy that tall-“

“Me neither.” you mumble, while you keep staring. In the corners of your eye, you see many people walking around the mean, peeking and staring and mumbling about his unusual appearance.

He walks up the stairs, shoving a middle aged woman out of his way. She tipples, looses balance and-

Bam!

falls down the stairs, while he’s stepping closer to the doors that lead to the praying area. The huge doors, that now don’t seem to tall in comparison anymore.

“Disrespectful asshole!” Mio exclaims in disgust, as an appalled gasp is heard from the by-standing people and the feeling in your gut grows into a huge lump. Others rush to the woman to help her back up, and Mio wants to go forward too, but you grab her sleeve, holding her back. You stay silent, as you keep watching the man intensely, seeing him lay his right hand on the wooden surface of the saisen-bako that’s placed inbetween the doors. People start to talk to him, try to get his attention, but he is ignoring them, concentrated on doing what he came to do. 

Your eyes are fixated on his hand, a tattooed black ring decorating his wrist. The people around him grow louder and louder, but the sound grows mute in your ears. Almost as if you’re hypnotised, you watch how the wooden surface starts to vibrate, the lines between his hand and the wood start to blur. A deep humming starts to vibrate in your ear, just like last night.

Mio notices your trance and calls you, but you hear without hearing. 

Whatever he’s doing, it has you in his grip.

Mio calls you again, louder and snips her fingers in front of your face to wake you from your trance but you keep being fixated on his hand until-

“Hey!” another man loudly exclaims and tugs on his cloak to get his attention. Without even looking, the pink haired man flicks his left hand and suddenly the throat of the other man bursts with blood and his head falls from his shoulders.

Fwip! 

Pap.. Pap… pap.

Down the stairs it falls and rolls. Your heart drops and everyone starts to scream, as your eyes widen in horror. Blood splatters everywhere, as the head rolls and comes to a halt next to the woman, coating the holy grounds with red essence.

“Y/N!!” Mio calls your name again, now very loud and clear, making your body finally start moving.

You meet Mio’s eyes and grab her wrist, before you run towards the entrance, already seeing security guards run into the opposite direction. Other people run in panic as well, shoving you out of their way, almost make you stumble. For some reason, shortly before you can run through the huge gate, you need to turn around.

Turn around.

The time slows down.

Exhale.

You look.

Focus.

And he turns around, too. Making your eyes meet his for the split of a second, before you turn back forward again, running through the gate.

Inhale.

Sirens are already howling in the distance, as Mio and you and many other people run through the shrine grounds in order to get back to the entrance you came from. Your heart is pounding in your throat and your throat is as dry as sand, as you finally reach the streets. A glance to Mio and a nod from her confirm that you will not separate your ways right now. She’ll come with you.

Bam!

Zschk Zing!

You lock your front door behind you, as Mio sighs loudly, slumping down on one of your kitchen chairs.

“Jesus.” you sigh under your breath, your hands still lingering on the door-lock, your eyes staring into nothing. The image of that mans head rolling down those stairs keeps replaying in your head. 

“Gonna make tea.” Mio says, before she gets up and fills the cattle.

You blink and shake your head, before you turn around and sit down on the other chair on the adjacent corner of the table. 

You have seen some bad stuff on the internet before. Multiple times unfortunately. However it’s still different to see such things in real life.

“The police will get him right?” she asks. 

“Maybe they shot him on sight.” you mumble. “Most probably.” you try to assure her and yourself.

She hums and the kettle starts to whistle.

Louder and louder.

Louder and louder.

Until Mio takes it from the stove and fills your cups with water.

You take a sip and the warmth flows through your body, making you feel better in an instant. 

“I still got no groceries.” you mumble into your cup.

“Let’s just wait a bit. It’ll be safe in a few hours.” she mumbles into hers.

A pause.

And you ponder.

“He wouldn’t have slashed that man, if he let him do his thing in peace.” you sip absentmindedly. “Whatever he was doing.” you add and she glances over to you, cocking an eyebrow.

“If he didn’t shove that woman down the stairs, he wouldn’t have been bothered.” she responds annoyed. “Nothing he was doing can justify this.”

“Yeah.”

Another pause.

“Doesn’t matter now, they probably shot him.” she sighs. 

Your eyebrows twitch at the thought. Somehow, you don’t feel like it’s true.

A few silent hours go by, sipping tea, trying to calm down. Both of you avoid to read the news, try to distract you from what just happened, talk about anything, except about what happened at the shrine today.

And somehow, it works. They probably shot him after all.

The sun sets and it grows dark outside. Mio taps on her phone.

- 10:13 p.m. - 

“I think I should go now.” she sighs. “Gotta get up early tomorrow.” 

You inhale deeply, knowing it’s the last time you’re gonna see her for at least two weeks.

“Alright.” you exhale, as you stand up and walk her to your door. “Text me when you’re at the station, k?” 

“Sure, peanut. The police is probably still roaming around. And if not they got him.” she smiles at you and leans in for a tight hug. “Gonna miss you.” she whispers in your ear and it almost makes you tear up.

What today happened was a lot for you and now you have to deal with it alone, if the distraction looses its effect. For two whole weeks.

“Gonna miss you, too!” you sniff into her ear and press her against you, before you separate.

“Stop crying, bitch.” she jokes and boops your nose. 

You stick out your tongue and with wet eyes, you unlock your front door. 

“Here you go, your Majesty. Please return safely.” you bow, trying to overact your upcoming crying-session and it makes her giggle. 

“It’ll be fine.” she waves you off and walks down the hallway. “I’m a big girl.”

“Text me!” you yell after her, before you close and lock up the door.

Zschk Zing!

Silence.

Too silent.

You grab your back and pull out the new headphones you bought. In all the hectic you forgot to properly charge them, but luckily, they always are charged halfway up when you buy them. 

You sit down on your kitchen chair and go to your phone’s settings, to connect it via bluetooth with your headphones. 

It worked.

You put them on and scroll through your music library, not sure what will give you the right mood for now. If you want more distraction or if you want to cry. Already feeling an empty feeling spreading in your heart, you scroll and scroll and your eyes keep watering.

Maybe crying it is. 

Mio didn’t text yet and you hope she’s about to arrive safely at the station. It’s just a short walk anyway. You keep scrolling. Being a person who listens to almost everything, it’s difficult to choose sometimes. Closing your eyes, you tap on shuffle, letting fate decide what song to play.

But right in the moment, when the song is about to start, a loud knocking is heard on your door.

Knock. 

Knock. 

Knock.

You quickly look to the door.

Mio? 

Maybe she forgot something.

Without turning off the music, you put your headphones on the table and tipple to the front door.

“Mio, is that you?” you call.

No answer.

You frown in suspicion, before looking through the peephole. 

And your heart drops into your socks, as you see a deformed fish-eye version of a stranger.

A tall, pink haired man.

[kelppsstuff]

How prideful can one man be?

Warnings: angst

Masterlist

One word to explain Lucifer Morning star is pride. Fitting as he is the sin of pride. The man is king of hell, stole both of the first woman to exist, has an amazing daughter.

When you first arrived in hell you thought that the king couldn’t even keep his kingdom intact, but after seven years you’ve come to realize that he just didn’t care.

Seven years ago his ex wife Lilith hired you to basically take care of him. Help with his work, make sure he eats, and all that jazz. At first you were excited to work under the “big boss”, but he flat out rude to you. No matter what you did no matter how hard you try it was never enough. He always thought himself better than you. You’ve grown to just expect it. When you would ask how did you sleep; you’d expect a cold fine.

He would spend his days making rubber ducks while you would do his paperwork for him, you would do everything for him! And not once a thank you.

—

You stared to pick up the rubber duckies around Lucifer’s work shop, while he continued to make more. “I’ll need you to get the reports on the extermination.” You hummed in understanding continuing to work on your task. “I’ll also need you to get Charlie a interview with Adam.” Another hum of acknowledgment. “Oh and yes, you’ll need to skin the children I hunted today.” You dropped the bag and took a step back. Stepping on a rubber duckies you lost your balance and took down a vase of flowers with you. “Just kidding.” Lucifer turned to look at you and then the broken glass vase.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean too.” You were nervous, he didn’t like you. Now you’ve broken his vase.

“Well it’s just a vase.” He looked down at and for the first time he was interested. His eyes were curious as they watched you try and clean it up quickly.

“I’ll get this picked up soon as possible sir.” You started to grabbed the large glass shards but before you could reach for another red mist surrounded the vase and suddenly it was fix. Looked brand new as it not rested back on the shelf. You swallowed and stood up, dusting away any dirt on your pants. “Shall I get you supper?” He turned back around to his desk and spoke, “No need.”

—

After getting all of your work done you popped your neck looked to the covers up windows. For seven years all the windows had curtains that were always shut. But surely he wouldn’t noticed if you took your down in your room. You grabbed a step ladder and started to attempt at taking down the curtain.

When your door opened you thought nothing of it. Though when you heard his voice you panicked. “What in hell are you doing?” His voice startled you but you had been caught my as well admit it. “Taking down these bloody curtains, I’m tired of them. I’ve grown pale.” You tugged again but it didn’t budge. “God, did you nail them down?”

Lucifer looked up at you. “God has nothing to do with it and yes I did.” You rolled your eyes and gave it another hard tug. The curtain came down and you with it. Before you could hit the ground Lucifer had caught you.

You opened your eyes when you felt the air stop. You looked at his face and for the first time since you met his nasty attitude he looked breathtaking.

As you looked at him Lucifer panicked and dropped you. For a moment he thought you were pretty, and he wasn’t going to start going down that path.

You groaned and stood up. “I’m sorry I’ll have it back up.”

“It’s fine, it’s your room.” He started to walk back out but you called out to him. “Sir? Did you come in here for something?” He stood at the door. He didn’t have an answer. “Just heard you causing a ruckus.” And then you didn’t see him for the rest of that day. Oddly enough.

—

The annual seven sins ball. Lovely time. Overlords and royals were invited and offered a plus one.

You dressed up every year. You went to talk business while Lucifer did the pleasure of entertaining the guest. This year was no different you thought to your self as you looked in the mirror. You wore a long maroon dress. It was pinched to your waist, showing your body off. The dress had a slit along with spaghetti straps. You hair was curled up into a bun and your dangling earrings gave you a more alluring look. 

You walked down the stairs and saw Lucifer at the bottom talking to prince Stolas who looked to bring an imp with him. They looked well together.

Lucifer felt his heart stop and you made your way down the stairs. His chest felt tight and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. You absolutely stunning. You shined like the moon shines over the night waters. “Hello prince Stolas. My king.” She did a bow and his eyes landed straight to her chest. She had to of been made by gods vision. “And I don’t believe I’ve met you.” She mentioned to the imp who was named Blitzo. Her voice gave him life again and his heart beater again, though this time faster than it should have. “Blitzo the o is silent.” She nodded her head she shook his hand. “(Name).”

‘God I know it’s been awhile but help me’ Lucifer thought to himself.

—

You the party ended. You were helping the staff clean up and when you were done you went to check on the king. His suit jacked was off, as was his hat. “I’ve come to see if there was anything you needed.” He looked divine. But (Name) wouldn’t act on it. She couldn’t she wouldn’t.

He crossed the room to her and they were chest to chest. (Name) felt her breathing shortening. She looked to his lips. Bad idea. She licked her own and looked back into his eyes. She grown fond over him. More than she could ever known. She waiting for the second to see him and dreaded the second he would leave. He had consumed her every thought for the past few months and wanted to act on it.

You were taller than him, not by much but by enough. He grabbed your hand and you couldn’t resist leaning down. Your lips brushed against each other and you took that final step. He didn’t pull away, no he did the opposite. He kissed back.

It didn’t last long. He suddenly pulled away with much force. “What the hell did we just do.” Your heart beater fast but it wasn’t good. No his reaction wasn’t good. But he kissed you back. “We kissed.”

“No. No. No. That was a mistake.” He was closing himself up again, (name) could see it. “No please don’t shut me out. Just let me in.”

He shook his head fast and took steps back from her. “No. No I can’t”

“Why?! Why can’t you just let me in. Let me love you?” She could feel tears form in her eyes.

“Because no one! No one! Could ever! Ever! Love me!” She felt her heart shatter for him and for her. “Go back to your room.”

“Please don’t leave.” He grabbed her arm and pushed her out and slammed the door. And (name) let the tears fall as she walked back to her room.

—

The next morning she was awoken with a suit case dropped on her bed. She looked up at Lucifer with confusion in her eyes. She slowly got up and looked around her room. It seemed everything was packed. But would she hear him? Magic. Of course he used magic.

“It’s time to go.” She looked to Lucifer and he started out her opened window. “No. Your being a coward and your pushing me away.”

“I don’t need you anymore. Time to leave.”

(Name) grabbed the suit case and was about to exit the room but she stopped and walked in front of him. Forcing him to look at her.

“You kissed me back. You’ve let me in over these past few months. And now your kicking me out?”

“Didn’t you hear me? I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone and even if I did, there’s others who are better suited for a man like me.”

She felt like crying but she didn’t. Not in front of him.

“Just how prideful can one man be? You push those who care away and that’s why you have a cold heart and an empty home.”

Then she left. She left him standing there. His heart begging to do back to her. But he wouldn’t get hurt a third time.

———————————————————————

Hiiiiii! Soooo if anyone has noticed this is inspired from rumple and belle from ouat!! And if you’d like a part 2 lmk! :)

With love kelp 💛

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

If You Can't Dance 7

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.

Note: this is what you get when you encourage me. Please leave any and all feedback! 😍

Part of The Club AU

You spend the rest of the day in a void. Your migraine keeps you hidden beneath a pillow, curtains drawn, unmoving and uncomfortable. When you finally manage to sleep, the dull pain remains, throbbing in your forehead until you wake in a sweat. 

It’s still early, the sun has yet to rise. You push the blankets off of you and put your head on top of the pillow. You don’t move further than that, wary of the shadow of the migraine hovering in your skull. You sink into a daze until your alarm goes off and you sit up stiffly, dreading a new day ahead of you. 

Now that you’re required in office, you have to get up even earlier. You pick out a purple turtleneck and a long pleated skirt with black and white stripes. You throw a necklace of plastic beads around the cowl of the shirt and tuck your feet into a pair of velvet loafers.  

You ready your lunch and a thermos of tea to take with you. You’re running out of time. As your phone vibes, you don’t have time to check it. You’re still trying to shake off the fog from your migraine as you shamble out the door and to your car. 

You drive slow, overly cautious, and tense as a rod. You wish you could just stay home and hide like you always do. You’re sure you can find something else from home but for now, you need to stick with this. Besides, you’ve worked your way up the pay ladder. Starting over isn’t exactly ideal. 

As you pull into the lot, you reach to grab your phone from the little slot between the cupholders. The screen flashes to remind you of your unchecked notifications. It’s a Teams message. Shoot. Jonathan. Your de facto boss. 

You tap the message. 

‘Good morning. I hope you are feeling better. Should you wish to work from home, you may connect to the remote server. Please let me know if I can offer any support’. 

The message is unusually concerned. Typically, you use an automated portal to put in for absences or vacation and if you need to be offline, you email Jensen and rarely get more than a thumbs up in return. It’s too late now anyway. 

You grab your bag and keep your phone clutched tight. You get out and lock the doors, treading heavily over the tarmac. You look up at the shining glass panes that line that outer walls. Everything here is so bright and open. You hate it. 

As you get to the front door, another figure approaches from the other corner of the building. G doesn’t say a word as he opens the door and holds it for you. You thank him and he follows you inside. You note that he hasn’t traded his gray hoodie for a blazer or dress shirt. He doesn’t seem the type to care or the heed warnings. 

He walks at your back as you try to recall your way through the hallways. You stop and he hits your shoulders, putting his hand to your back to still himself. He apologise and pulls away. 

“Sorry, I forgot where I’m going,” you murmur. 

“Mm,” he grumbles, “wish I could help. I hate this place.” 

You want to agree with the sentiment but you wouldn’t want to be overheard. You give him a strained look and shrug. He frowns. 

“Question,” he says sharply. 

“Yes?” You’re suddenly nervous. 

“Do you have other tea suggestions? I like the mint but I want something new.” 

“Oh,” you think and scrunch up your lips, “anything in the same brand is good, I find. They have a toasted coconut flavour but it’s hard to find.” 

“Toasted coconut,” he repeats. “I’ll look out for it.” He looks down the hall and sighs, “see ya ‘round.” 

He stalks off before you can respond. He’s strange like that. Abrupt, awkward, and slightly scary. You peer around and orient yourself according to the breakroom. You think you remember. 

You go to the exact wrong corner of the building and have to turn back before you find the correct door. Your name is the only assurance that you’re not entirely lost. It still says ‘senior developer’. As long as the misplaced title doesn’t come with the extra work, it can’t matter that much. 

“Ah, there you are,” your name draws you back before you can escape into the office. You turn to face Jonathan as he struts down the hall, “you didn’t respond to my message. I assume you are feeling better.” 

“Um, yes, I only just saw it,” you say, “sorry, but appreciate it.” 

“Again, I must apologise about the flowers, if I’d known...” he lifts his hand and shows the paper gift bag hooked around his fingers, “I’ve found a suitable welcome gift this time.” 

You look him in the face then at the bag, “oh, you don’t need to--” 

“It’s what we do here. All our new members received their own welcome. I do feel terrible that yours backfired so egregiously.” 

“No, it’s okay,” you take the bag with some hesitation. “Thanks. Um, I should get settled, I’m probably already behind.” 

“As I said, if you should require any support, you only need message,” he insists, “and please, take care of yourself. Do not put the work above your health.” 

“Mm, okay.” 

“You’ve something in case, for headaches, I mean?” He asks. 

“Uh, tylenol,” you shrug, “really, I’m feeling alright.” 

“Very well, I made certain the cleaners did a thorough scour to be sure no pollen was left behind,” he states proudly. “Oh, and do let me know if there’s anything else? If you need anything for your office? Or perhaps would like to relocate. I know the sun can come in at the wrong angle after noon.” 

“Really, it’s fine,” you say, biting down on your exasperation. You just want to work. You want to be left alone. “Thank you.” 

“A pleasure,” he grins. 

You nod and slowly back away. You turn and enter your office but don’t close the door. That feels like too much. You cross to the desk and put your bag beside the chair and the gift on top. You’ll deal with that once you get signed in. Or maybe when you get caught up. You really don’t care. 

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Aftermath || LN4 {2}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: Lando's new role of taking care of you is one he takes very seriously. Warnings: 18+ only, grief and loss, depression WC: 2.6k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

Lando felt useless as he watched you cry in your sleep, the quiet whimpers making him hate himself even more. He should have come by and checked in on you, he should have been a better friend. He had foolishly convinced himself that you were better off without his interference since all he did was remind you of what you lost. 

He remembered how hard it had been to get back into his race car for the first time after the funeral and not see René in the McLaren next to him. It had been a gut punch that was more shocking to his system than the weight of the casket he had carried on his shoulder. Whatever loss he was feeling could only be tenfold for you and he didn’t want to make it worse.

Now he wished he could go back in time and save you from yourself, but all he could do was plan to help you move forward.

He grabbed a blanket from inside the ottoman and draped it over you, the very same one he used countless times when it got too late and he would crash on the couch after a movie night or BBQ. It was like a mausoleum of memories and he could feel himself tearing up as he walked around the room opening the curtains and windows for some much needed fresh air. 

Stepping out onto the terrace he found the pool you had loved to swim in daily was ruddy brown and the once pristine garden that you had tended to was overgrown with vines creeping up the stonework of the house. Anger flooded him and he pulled his phone out. 

“Why the hell did no one invite Y/N?” he growled when his team principal answered the phone. “She didn’t even know about René's memorial.”

“Look, take a breath, I know it’s upsetting but the FIA didn’t feel comfortable having her there after her accusations last year.”

Lando laughed humorlessly as he dragged a hand through his hair. “Uncomfortable? Fucking unbelievable. Of course they are uncomfortable, they pretty much killed him.”

“Lando…” Andrea started to warn him.

“I know, I know.” Lando took a deep breath. “Is there really a ‘surviving spouse’ clause in our contracts?”

“It’s not exactly easy to get life insurance for you guys, too much risk,” Andrea confirmed. “Look, I’m not going to say stay away from her, but be discreet, we don’t need to be pissing off the FIA right now. Pictures of your car at her house is not discreet.”

Lando frowned as the call ended and he opened instagram to see he had been tagged in a photo.

Only moments later did his phone vibrate with a What’s App message from his old teammate, Daniel Riccardo.

It was still daytime when you woke up on the couch to find all the curtains and windows open wide. Your neck protested the movement of getting up but it was quickly overpowered by the pain shooting down your legs and you remembered why you drank so much in the first place.

“Lando?” you called out, wondering where he was as you stood up on shaky legs.

You searched the house and found the carpet in your bedroom covered in foam cleaner to try get the bloodstains out and all the glass had been vacuumed up too. Other than that, there was no sign of Lando at all so you walked outside and followed the sounds of quiet cursing in the backyard.

“Is that a good idea?” you asked as you sheltered your eyes from the harsh sun and looked up at a shirtless Lando scaling an unstable ladder.

“Probably not,” he shot back, leaning out with a pair of clippers to cut the vines climbing the house. “Will it stop me? No.”

Rolling your eyes, you stepped into the garden bed and grabbed hold of the ladder to try stabilise while you looked around and saw he had already mowed the lawn. 

“You must still be single then I take it,” you said with a shake of your head. “You never had this much time to waste when you had a girlfriend.”

“First of all, it’s not a waste of my time. And secondly, well, yeah, okay, I am single. But that’s not the point and not why I’m doing this.” He nearly lost his balance as he hacked at a stubborn vine and scrambled to cling to the ladder. “Maybe I’ll call an arborist. And someone to clean the pool too.”

“Stop, please, you don’t need to do any of that.”

“I know,” he said as he jumped down and used his discarded shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow. “I want to.” He nodded his head back to the house. “Food’s ready, I was waiting on a sleeping beauty to wake up.”

You self consciously touched your hair at the comment and stepped away before he followed but he easily caught your hand.

“Don’t do that,” he said with a shake of his head. “Don’t shy away. You still look beautiful, and I am almost decent at untangling curls so we will tackle that whole situation after you have eaten something.”

“Lando, Lan, La-”

He shoved the spoon into your mouth with a laugh before dunking it back into the soup bowl and starting the aeroplane sounds again. “Here comes another one.”

“I’m going to shove that spoon up your ars-” He took the opportunity to get it past your lips again and you thumped him on the arm. “I can fucking feed myself. Give me that.” 

You swiped the spoon out his hand as he doubled over laughing and before you knew it a foreign sound bubbled from your chest and your cheeks ached as a smile tugged at the forgotten muscles. Lando froze at the sound before a slow smile broke over his face as he sat back in his seat like he had witnessed a miracle. 

“Stop staring, you’re making it weird,” you murmured as you took another mouthful of the surprisingly good soup. 

“For a while I didn’t think I would hear that again.” He smiled to himself as he stirred his soup. “You couldn’t go a minute without laughing and joking over something stupid.”

“That’s because you and René were always doing something stupid.” His name slipped past without a thought but the moment it filled the room you felt the air leave and the spoon trembled in your fingers. 

Your chair clattered backwards as you rose swiftly and covered your lips as if you could take it back.

You spun on your heel almost tripping over the chair as you rushed down the hallway. The back door you passed offered an escape from the suffocating weight on your chest but instead you ran deeper into the house, your feet flying as you spiralled down the stairs to the converted basement. You slammed into the door and it flung open as you burst into the space you hadn’t dared open in a year. 

This place wasn’t just his, it was an extension of him. The shelves were lined with his helmets, his team shirts hung on the walls. The trophies in glass cases were dull and dust clung to every surface. 

But in the cold, still air you could smell his lingering scent from the hours he spent playing on the sim set up in the corner. You closed your eyes and felt the air shift around you, feeling his presence enveloping you and chasing away the bone-numbing chill you had endured for 365 days.

“It’s finally real, Lando,” you whispered, knowing he was standing in the doorway watching your back. “When the house was silent I could pretend he was down here, playing iRacing or Gran Turismo. I could fucking pretend…that I wasn’t alone. If I didn’t call his name then I could pretend that’s why he doesn't answer me.”

Your vision blurred and when a pair of strong arms wrapped around your body you could pretend one last time that it was him holding you. It was the closest to a goodbye you would have.

“He’s gone.” You sighed and swallowed the lump in your throat knowing what you needed to do but somehow no longer finding the thought as daunting as you once did. “No more pretending.”

“I’ll try be gentle,” Lando promised as he stood behind you, armed with a hairbrush. 

He had poured a bottle of conditioner onto the bird's nest on your head and let it absorb for almost an hour before working up the courage to try and detangle it. While the conditioner was hopefully working its magic, he had helped to dust and polish René’s trophies, doing most of the work while you silently mourned the fantasy you had lived in. 

“Just do it,” you ordered as you locked eyes with him in the bathroom mirror.

“Here goes nothing.”

Your neck ached and your scalp burned by the end, and there was a huge pile of hair balls he had pulled off the hairbrush, but finally he was able to drag the brush relatively cleanly through your hair. 

“See, who’s the man?” he grinned as he flipped the brush confidently in his hand.

You rewarded him with a small smile in the mirror before turning and wrapping your arms around his narrow waist. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he said as his own arms encased you and he pressed a friendly kiss to your hairline. “Ugh, it smells like coconut but doesn’t taste like it.”

You laughed and stepped back with a wave to the door. “Go on, let me wash it out.”

It took far longer than you expected for your hair to finally feel clean but eventually you were satisfied with it and got out of the shower, wrapping the towel around your body. Your fingers automatically reached for a shirt of René’s when you opened the closet but something had changed in the basement. 

You grabbed a handful of his clothes and pulled them from the closet, coathangers flinging off in all directions, before grabbing another and another. 

“Hey, woah!” Lando skidded into the room thinking you were having another meltdown. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“If I keep them,” you panted as the small effort already exhausted you, “it’s all I will wear again, I just know it. I have to get rid of them.”

“Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly.

You sent him a peeved glare before opening the drawers next and grabbing the stack of sweatpants he had amassed over the years. “Yes!”

“Look,” he said softly as he raised his hands with the universal sign of peace, “why don’t we go and get some boxes, pack them up, and then you sleep on it before doing anything drastic?”

“I’m not going to change my mind, Lan.”

You did change your mind. 

You woke up at 3am and sprinted through the house to the front door, tripping over Lando’s leg that hung off the couch and waking him up with one hell of a fright. He burst onto his feet after pulling himself off the ground and his wild curls swung as he looked around for some threat. 

Seeing it was just you looking equally dishevelled, he grabbed your shoulders and bent his knees so he was at the same height. “Are you alright?”

“Tell me you didn’t throw them,” you begged as your rapid breathing sent stars dancing around your vision. “Please, please, please.”

“What? René’s clothes?” he asked as he wiped the sleep from his eyes before pointing to the door on the other side of the living room. “Of course not, they’re in the garage.”

The relief was immediate and you sagged against his warm chest only to notice he had taken his shirt off to sleep. Clearing your throat, you straightened up stiffly and frowned. “But I asked you to dump them…”

“I know, and if you still wanted that in the morning I would have done it.” He sighed and took a seat on the makeshift bed he made on the couch despite there being plenty of spare bedrooms in the house. He patted the space beside him and you took a seat, the only warmth coming from his arm touching yours. “It’s going to take time, Y/N. Moving on doesn’t just happen overnight, even when you are ready to.”

“You sound like a shrink.”

His shoulders bounced with a small laugh and he fell back into the cushions, pulling you with him. “Mandatory counselling sessions, courtesy of Zak. Everyone got them, and I think it helped. Maybe you cou-”

“Don’t push it, just be proud you got me out of bed today.”

“Hmmm, but then I got you drunk.”

You looked up to see he wasn’t happy about that and you didn’t like seeing that look on his face. “But then you brushed my hair.”

A small sleepy smile grew on his face as he looked at your hair that was a little messy after sleeping on it but nothing compared to what it was before. “I always liked your hair.”

“I always liked yours,” you admitted as you eyed the curls that fell over his forehead. “I wondered if they were as soft as they looked.”

He tipped his head down for you and you reached up, running your fingers through them leaving ringlets twirling closed again. Even when you pulled one out straight, the moment you released the strands they bounced back into shape. 

“Huh,” you chuckled as you did it again. “I thought you used hairspray to keep them perfectly curled.”

“As if I have time for that kind of maintenance,” he muttered drowsily as he closed his eyes and let you play with his hair. “That feels nice.”

“You’re no better than a house cat.”

He cosied deeper into the couch to get comfortable as he stretched his long legs out in front of him, his head falling onto your shoulder while you continued massaging his head. Just when you thought he was asleep, he let out a quiet, “Meow.”

Laughter filled the still air of the night and he peeked an eye open to watch you find joy for the second time in one day, a proud grin written on his face. “I missed your laugh.”

“Me too,” you admitted after feeling how light it made your pain, if only for a moment.

“I would go to the zoo and visit the hyenas when I really missed the sound.”

More laughter grew in your belly and you punched him repeatedly on the arm as the loud bursts escaped. “You’re an asshole.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he gasped between his own fit of laughter before catching your hands and holding them above his head to stop your pitiful attack. “I just wanted to hear it again.”

You froze as you realised how close you were to him, your face only inches from his and his full lips so close to yours. Your heart stammered as his tongue peeked out as he licked his lips and you cleared your throat as you pulled away, shattering the strange moment.

“I’m, uh, I’m going to go back to bed,” you muttered weakly as you stumbled off the couch. 

He looked like he was going to say something as he sat up straight but his lips closed again and he nodded, settling for a polite, “Sweet dreams.”

“You too, Lando. And thank you again, for being here.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said as he settled back into the blankets and covered his very distracting body. “I should have been here sooner.”

You could have sworn you heard him whisper something more as you walked back down the hall.

“And I’m not leaving you again.”

Click here for part three.

[zenoah-zero]

((I suck at writing but hopefully you all enjoy.))

Those Three Words:

Joy had noticed that Anxiety and Ennui had grown closer in the past few weeks. Today, however, the two didn't seem to be getting along. She took notice as they came from the other room bickering.

"Why can't you just say it!" Anxiety snapped.

Ennui stopped and looked over at the smaller emotion.

"What is it you want me to say?" She asked.

Anxiety looked away, seemingly hurt.

Ennui let out a heavy sigh and turned her sights back to her phone.

Anxiety grew angry as she quickly snatched the phone from Ennui's hand.

"Ah! Give that back!" She demanded.

"No! Not until you say it!" Anxiety's voice began to tremble.

Ennui reached out for the phone, making an aggrivated noise.

Joy couldn't take the fighting anymore and finaly stepped in between the two.

"Hey you guys! Stop this!" She looked from one to the other.

"Give Ennui back her phone. Ennui, say whatever it is Anxiety wants to hear."

The stood in silence for a moment.

"...I would if I knew..." Ennui finaly said.

Anxiety broke down, tears falling down her face.

She threw the phone back at Ennui who watched as the smaller emotion stormed off.

"Ugh..it's too early for this!" The taller emotion stated as she headed for her couch. She laid down, back facing away from everyone.

Night fell as everyone made their way to bed.

Ennui waited and followed after last. She didn't make eye contact with anyone as they got ready to sleep.

She made her way to her top bunk, directly over Anxiety's. As she acended the ladder, she passed a glance to Anxiety. Their eyes met breifly as the orange emotion furrowed her brow and laid down.

Ennui sighed and got into bed, pulling her curtain closed.

Like clockwork, Anxiety woke up and stumbled out of bed.

She had started a habbit of waking up and feeling the need to check on everyone. She started from one end and worked her way down, noting that each emotion was asleep. She got back to her bunk, passing a glance up at Ennui's bed.

She did a double take as she noticed the curtain open.

She quickly made her way up the ladder to check. She knew Ennui always had that curtain closed. To have it wide open set her in a panic.

She got to the top and noticed that Ennui was missing.

Her panic grew. Ennui always slept thru the night. It wasn't like her to be gone.

Anxiety got down and paced a little, her breathing began to speed up.

Wringing her hands together she left the bedroom, heading down to see if maybe Ennui moved to the couch.

Hesitant, she moved closer, seeing the couch empty.

She whimpered, her hands gripping each other tightly. She quickly checked wherever she could with no sign of Ennui.

She started to cry. She knew she was too hard on Ennui. She laid on the floor, hugging herself and sobbing.

She then heard a faint noise that sounded like it was coming from below.

Silencing her sobs, she put her ear closer to the ground. It was low but the sound she heard was almost melodic.

She got onto the elevator and headed down to the Belief System.

It filled her with a bit of guilt being down here. She had messed up last time and hadn't been down here again until now.

As the elevator reached the bottom, she stepped out carefully.

Her eyes followed the sound until they stopped upon Ennui.

She was sitting down near the water, blanket drapped over her shoulders and a cup of familiar tea in her hands.

She had headphones on, listening to one of Get Up and Glow's slower songs. Figuring she was alone, and that no one could hear her, she sang along to it.

Anxiety watched, amazed by how well Ennui sang.

She felt her body relax as she moved closer, not once taking her eyes off Ennui.

The song ended as the tall emotion let out a sigh. She removed her headphones and quietly took a sip of tea, closing her eyes.

"...Ennui...?" Anxiety spoke with a small voice.

This made her jump, almost spilling her tea.

She set it aside and looked over at Anxiety, eyes wide in shock and embarrassment.

Anxiety's eyes began to tear up as she quickly made her way over to Ennui, laying herself over her long legs.

"I couldn't find you! I thought maybe you left because I was so mad at you! I-I-I..."

She began to choke on her words, burying her face into Ennui's chest.

Ennui put both her hands on each of Anxiety's cheeks, pulling her face to look into her eyes.

With a gentle motion, she wiped away the tears with her thumbs.

"Shh...mon amour..." Ennui spoke softly. "Je suis désolé...I'm sorry. I should have told you."

Anxiety made a small noise as Ennui pulled her face closer.

"Je suis amoureux..."

Hearing Ennui speak those words made Anxiety smile.

The taller emotion pulled Anxiety in for kiss.

As they moved apart they rested their foreheads agienst eachother.

"I didn't know you could sing..." Anxiety said with a small chuckle.

"I don't..." Replied Ennui, showing a rare smile towards Anxiety.

The smaller of the two made herself comfortable, sitting between Ennui's slender legs.

Ennui wrapped the blanket around them, pulling Anxiety close.

The little orange emotion knew what Ennui had said. She had figured, at this moment, that it was hard for Ennui to express such a rare feeling.

Just hearing those three words, even just this once, was enough.

[nickfowlerrr]

Pwyc-valentine Drabble idea - reader works hard to do a cute vday eve for bucky after he’s been at work, she’s making him dinner/baking/wear his fave lingerie 😜 - she starts by hanging a cute banner in living room but the ladder falls and she can’t get down, dangling from the curtain rail until he gets home. The dinner burns and she’s upset that plans are ruined by time bucky comes- he’s charmed/amused to find her hanging and teases her and tells her it’s still perfect anyway

it's brighter now

pairing: pwyc!bucky x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. no explicit smut. it's pretty fluffy. uhm engagement? i can't think rn sorry lol - if there's anything that should be tagged pls let me know.

words: 3k

notes: LOL this is so funny! i honestly don't see how it'd be possible for reader to hang onto a curtain railing for an extended period of time though hahaha so i kinda changed this idea a bit, i hope you don't mind! thank you for sending this in! <3

You pulled at the strap of the black lace set you'd ordered in preparation for today, adjusting it so it held your breasts up nicely before glancing to the clock to check the time.

Bucky should be home soon. Dinner was in the oven, his gift - along with a box of his favorite chocolates - left on the table, while you finished getting ready upstairs. All you had left to do was put up some of the decorations you'd picked up last night while you were shopping. Checking your reflection one last time in the mirror, making sure your lipstick looked right and your eyeliner wasn't smudging more than you intended, you smiled to yourself. This was gonna be good, it'd be a good night.

Some may say you were doing too much, and in all honesty, maybe you were, but you didn't care. Bucky was still a little... touchy about the whole not telling your family about him thing and you wanted to try and make it up to him, as trivial as this attempt might be. You wouldn't say things were tense between you, not in the slightest, but you could tell when certain things came up the shift in his attitude and demeanor. You had hurt him, and you knew it. You felt awful every time you thought about it, which was a lot this past month.

His Christmas Eve proposal had been met less than completely enthusiastic by you and though you had talked it out and come to the conclusion that you just needed time before you wanted to take things to the inevitable next stage, he was still clearly let down. So, two weeks later when he'd found out you never told your family about you and him, it was just another punch to the gut for him.

You'd spent the last month doing a lot of late night talking with him, working through things, trying to communicate your feelings to each other openly. It wasn't the easiest, you were both stubborn and hated taking blame for things you didn't feel you needed to, but once you set your egos aside and really listened to each other, there was a better understanding of where you both stood.

Though you'd apologized multiple times already, you still wanted to try and make things right, show him how much you loved him. Valentine's Day was coming up so you decided to plan the perfect night. Everything was going according to plan, and you couldn't wait for him to get home.

You were almost surprised yourself with how giddy you were. Before heading back downstairs, there was just one more thing you needed to do. Walking over to the dresser that your intimates were in, you pulled open the drawer, moving around your carefully folded sets until you felt the little black box you kept in there. You felt your heart racing and butterflies in your stomach as you stared at it. You'd thought long and hard about this decision from the moment he had asked you and now just felt right. You carefully opened the small box and once again your breath caught at the beauty of the ring he had picked for you. Carefully removing it from its rest, you gently slid the ring onto your ring finger, marveling at the way it glimmered in the light and exhaling delicately as you took in just how right it felt to have on. The beeping of the oven startled you, pulling you from your thoughts and had you suddenly racing down the stairs, making a beeline for the kitchen.

You stopped the timer as it blared and opened the door of the oven, frowning when you saw the food wasn't even done yet. You made a mental note to check it again in five minutes and hoped it'd be ready before Bucky got home.

Spotting the decorations you'd left on the counter, you grabbed them and hurried to get them up. You bought a cute heart banner that you wanted to hand in the entryway between the living room and kitchen but realized you would need to get the step ladder if you wanted any chance of reaching where you wanted it to go.

Carrying it in from the garage, you set it up right under the frame. You paused when it was wobbly as you stepped up, but convinced yourself it was fine, that's what ladders do, right? You had two tacks in one hand and the end of the banner in the other as you stepped up to the top of the ladder. You had to use nearly all your force to get the first tac in and squeaked a bit when the ladder threatened to topple from under you. You stilled as you caught your breath, quickly securing the one end of the banner up on the tac before leaning over to push the second one into the wall. As you forced the tac in, you heard the front door opening, the sound startling you as you hadn't even heard Bucky's car pull up. As you jolted a bit at the sound, the ladder shifted again under you but didn't settle this time as it essentially collapsed beneath you. You yelped again, louder this time as your eyes squeezed shut and you mentally prepared yourself for hitting, not only the floor, but the broken ladder beneath you.

You realized after a perilous second that you hadn't fallen, and suddenly became aware of the strong arms holding you bridal style. You opened your eyes and looked up at Bucky, your mouth parted slightly as your doe eyes looked into his. Fuck, you thought, his reactions and reflexes were always so startlingly fast.

"Hi," you breathed.

"Hi," he echoed, "What the fuck are you doing?" he asked staring down at you in concern and near bewilderment.

"I was trying to put up decorations," you said looking over at the banner half held up by the first tac you'd gotten in.

Bucky sniffed the air, his brows furrowing as he sniffed again. "What is that?"

"What's what?"

"Smells like something's burning,"

"Oh shit!" you cursed, trying to wiggle out of his hold until he set you down. You ran to the oven, pulling the door open to reveal the once promising dinner you'd spent most of the day preparing, now burnt to a crisp. "Fuck," you whined with a pout as you shut the oven off, pulling the dish out of it and placing it directly in the sink. There was no saving that thing now. You stood there disheartened and annoyed at yourself until you felt Bucky coming up behind you, his hands placed on your hips as his fingers played with the lace on your lingerie.

"What's all this?" he asked huskily, clearly already distracted from the burnt food and broken ladder by your choice of clothing. You knew he'd like it, but right now you were still upset by the epic failure that should have been dinner.

You leaned your head back against his chest as you continued to mop, pout permanent on your face as his arms circled you.

"For valentines," you muttered before sighing heavily, "I'm sorry. I was trying to make everything nice and now we have nothing for dinner and a broken fucking ladder."

He chuckled as he held you, "Sweetheart, that ladder's been broken, that's why I had it by the pile of scrap metal. And I thought we talked about you putting decorations up,"

"It was just a stupid banner," you defended, "and it was supposed to be a surprise."

"Well, I'm definitely surprised," he laughed.

"Whatever, it was stupid," you tried to get out of his hold, embarrassment eating at you now, but he wouldn't let you. Instead, he turned you around and pinned you against the counter as he towered over you. You avoided his eye until he gave you no other choice but to look at him as he held your chin in his hand and tilted your head up to meet his gaze.

"It wasn't stupid, doll," he smiled crookedly, leaning in to kiss you gently once. "You really know how to make a guy feel special. Dinner, new lingerie," he simpered as he eyed your body, leaning down closer to you.

"I got you an actual gift, too," you said motioning to the table.

"I know, I'm looking at it,"

"I'm serious, Bucky," you huffed a laugh as you pushed him to turn around. He allowed you to shove him forward before you escorted him to the table, pulling the chair out for him to sit in. You were bummed about dinner, of course, but you could still make the most of the night.

He eyed you for a moment before taking his seat in front of the table.

"Comfy?" you asked.

He tongue darted out, quickly licking his lips before he smiled at you, "Sure."

"Good," you simpered before seating yourself in his lap, your left arm coming around his shoulders as your legs laid across his lap. "I wanted to do dinner first but we have nothing to eat now, so,"

"I don't know, I see something pretty tasty right here," he smirked as his metal hand ran up and down your thigh teasingly.

"Bucky, I'm trying to be romantic here," you chided playfully.

"So am I," he argued.

You rolled your eyes as you reached across the table to grab his present. Stifling a laugh as he groaned at the friction while you moved around on his lap. You handed him the gift after settling back down and watched him open the carefully wrapped box.

You smiled when he did upon revealing the watch he'd been talking about buying last week. He set it down on the table as his arms wrapped around you, leaning in to kiss you as he spoke. "Thank you, babe," he simpered against your lips.

"You're welcome," you replied softly as you leaned in for a kiss of your own, your hands coming to cup his face as he held you against him.

You pulled back, your thumbs stroking his cheeks as he happily closed his eyes for a brief moment, relishing in your attention before standing up unceremoniously with you still in his arms.

You yelped and clung to him as he chuckled, "I'm not gonna drop you,"

"Mhm," you said with narrowed eyes. His brilliant blues met yours and he stopped in his tracks as he gazed at you, the look in his eyes had you softening your own.

"You're so goddamn beautiful," he praised, coming in for another kiss. You were nose to nose as his lips brushed against yours, "and your makeup looks so hot," he smirked.

"Shut up," you laughed as you playfully hit his chest.

He grinned as he walked out of the kitchen. You absentmindedly played with his hair as he carried you upstairs. When he got to your room, he sat you down on the side of the bed as he took his jacket off, toeing off his boots before unbuckling his belt. You sat back, propping yourself up with your hands as you watched him.

"What about dinner?" you asked demurely as he shuffled off his jeans, discarding his shirt to the floor, feeling yourself get more and more excited with his rushed, near frenzied pace.

"I'm more in the mood for dessert right now," he simpered as he moved toward you. "Been thinking about you all day," he said as he pushed you to lay down, his lips descending on your exposed neck. An unbidden giggle rose from you as his lips attacked your skin.

"You say that everyday," you smiled as you wound your fingers in his hair.

"It's true everyday," he insisted, his lips brushing your skin as he spoke, hands feeling you up.

He pulled away, standing up as he admired you, his cock straining against the material of his boxer briefs. His tongue jutted out to lick his bottom lip.

"What?" you breathed as you watched him curiously.

"Stay right there, don't move," he instructed as he pulled his jacket off the floor, searching his pockets before dropping his jacket and grabbing his jeans. Again, his hands delved into the pockets but this time he pulled his phone out of one of them.

You raised a brow as you waited, getting a little self conscious when you thought he was pointing his phone directly at you. After a second you realized that he indeed was.

"Bucky, what the hell," you complained.

"You look fucking perfect like this, sweetheart, it'd be a crime to not get a picture."

You stuttered for a second before sitting up and swallowing hard. "Well, at least warn me first so I can try and look nice," you said before posing a bit for him.

"Fuuuuck," he nearly moaned as he took pictures of you, "you don't need to try to look nice, doll, you're fucking gorgeous." You preened at his admiration, the reassurances and praises tumbling from his lips making you more flustered than you were before. When he got down on one knee, continuing to take pictures, you burst out laughing at his adamancy. "Don't move angel, just look at the camera for me, just like that," he said seriously, so intent on his work.

"Okay, this isn't a photoshoot, Buck," you laughed, getting up and walking over to him.

"Should be," he simpered, looking up at you as you stood before him. You took his phone in one hand and walked closer to him, forcing him to sit on the floor before you turned around, moving to sit down between his spread legs. You leaned back into his chest as you held the phone up to take a picture or two of your own, Bucky readily obliged as his arms wrapped around you snuggly. After a few pics together, you tossed his phone gently onto his pile of discarded clothes and turned around to face him again.

"You were saying something about dessert?" you said, voice sultry. You were on your knees between his spread legs as he sat upright, holding himself up on his arms as he watched you intently, eyes dark and swimming with desire.

You ran your fingers delicately up and along his thighs before allowing your left hand to come up and graze his hard length that was threatening to pop out past the waistband of his boxers.

He hissed at the contact, looking down from your face to your hand teasing him through the material.

He spotted the ring the second he looked to your hand, wondering for a brief second how long you'd been wearing it and he hadn't noticed. He grabbed your hand off of him and pulled you down to lay on top of him as he let himself lay down on the ground.

You were confused until Bucky held your hand in his, examining it as his metal arm rested across your back, hand on your hip as he held you on top of him. You stayed quiet, waiting to see what he would say before wanting to speak yourself, instead just resting your head on his chest, looking up at him as he held your hand. He was playing with your fingers, his thumb rubbing along your hand as you watched him before he found himself fiddling with the ring.

"It looks good on you," he said quietly. The energy between you shifting quickly into something much softer, a longing growing between you, despite the fact you were nearly skin to skin, taking over the heady desire that had been swarming the both of you just moments before. "You didn't have to put it on, sweetheart."

"I know," you responded. "But I... I wanted to," you breathed as you squeezed his hand in yours.

"You wanted to...today?"

"Today," you nodded. "Everyday," you continued, voice a bit softer now.

His eyes left the ring, shooting to yours, the bright blues twinkling as you saw the question burning in them.

"I'm gonna keep it on. If that's okay with you," you trailed off, a small smile playing in your lips as you held his gaze.

You gasped as you were suddenly rolled over, Bucky on top of you, his hand coming to hold the back of your head so you didn't hit it on the floor as his lips pressed to yours fervently, smiling into the kiss.

"You're gonna marry me?" he asked, his lips quirking up into a crooked smile, making your heart flutter.

You nodded. "I'm gonna marry you," you leaned up to meet his lips again, pulling him down on top of you. "I wanna marry you."

"Best valentine's day I've ever had," he smiled, nuzzling into your neck, "best gift I've ever gotten," his lips softly kissed your neck, "You. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," he breathed between loving kisses.

"I love you, Bucky," you murmured as you held him, one hand carding through his hair and the other rubbing up and down his back.

"I love you, doll. Happy Valentine's Day."

You tittered in response, "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Let's go out later for dinner. We can celebrate, too," he smiled softly, "I know you wanted to stay home tonight, but,"

"No, going out sounds good," you agreed, "I don't know how you'll find a table anywhere last minute on Valentine's Day, though," you mused.

"I'm not worried about it," he said nonchalantly, confidence evident in his words.

"Okay," you simpered in response. "Well, I should get dressed, then,"

Bucky stood up at that before picking you up off the ground effortlessly and walking you over to the bed. "You'll have plenty of time later," he assured you before dropping you gently on the mattress. "Right now, let's get back to dessert. "

[ricksswhore]

Ever since you had arrived at Alexandria with the rest of the group, Rick had been avoiding you, a few nights had past and everyone had moved into the neighbouring houses, apart from you, Rick, Judith, Carl who stayed together. It confused you how Rick was ignoring you despite choosing you to stay with him.

You assumed it was just his worries and him being too busy to talk, but you saw how he treated the rest of the group, stopping to talk with Daryl and Michonne whenever he had the time, and he seemed to be content with making sure everyone else was cared for, except you. Sure he talked with you a few times, mostly about Judith and Carl, and checked in to see how you were adjusting, but it's the little things you noticed, like how he never came home until everyone was asleep. Despite your hard work to gain his attention he would only gaze over you for a few seconds before moving on and making himself busy.

Rage and sickness built up in you, overthinking all the reasons why he might not want your attention, maybe he didn't think much of you? maybe now he was settled, and didn't need you anymore as a friend to console in? You laid in bed till early in the mornings, waiting hopelessly for him to suddenly arrive and hold you in an embrace as he rarely used to. But he never did. You know he used to worry about your age, and told you he shouldn't be too close to you because it's not really what you wanted, you were too young. He would reject any protests you had to this, knowing yourself that his age didn't matter to you.

It was 7am and you laid lazily in the middle of the bed, the sun blazing through the curtains as you awoke to find yourself alone. There was a greeting party this evening, planned by Deanna to make everyone feel more invited here. It was doubtful that it would work for most of the group who were still on edge, mostly Daryl and Carl, who would frequently warn Rick that the risks were still here. You didn't see the point of making a big celebration , as if the group didn't have other things to think about, but Rick had mentioned already that you were both to go together. This idea sparked something in you, maybe tonight you will finally get him to pay attention to you. You sat upright planning through the day ahead, you were on watch in half an hour, covering for Rosita, and after that you had  time to get ready and prepare yourself.

The heat was unbearable as you sat at the watch tower, sweating despite wearing the shortest shorts you owned and a tank top. You rubbed your forehead and gazed around, it had been mostly clear all day, only a couple walkers in the distance who were cleared without even coming within 10 meters. You turned and saw Daryl and Carol, sat with judith on her lap, down by one of the houses. You were close with them both, they taught you how to perfect your shot and use a knife in the most effective way, and were usually caring towards you.

You had noticed the way Daryl looked, the way his muscles flexed while he worked on his bike, but you couldn't help comparing him to Rick, and how he was so much more assertive and enchanting than Daryl. His piercing blue eyes and dark curls being the first thing you noticed, down to his broad shoulders and steady hands. You blushed at the thought of him next to you, his hand on your waist-

"y/n? what are you looking at?" you looked down to see Carol standing with Judith on her hip, looking up at you with her brows furrowed. "I need help with Judith, do you mind taking her, i have some things to do." she spoke assertively, it was more like a statement than a question.

"Oh, sure." you said, disappointed to be snapped out of your daydreaming, "can you take my watch?" you spoke to Abraham who was lazily stood near the gate lighting a cigarette. He mumbled a yes as you shifted down the ladder. You took Judith in your arms as Carol muttered a thanks. You were slightly too young to desire your own children yet, but you couldn't deny the motherly instinct you felt towards Judith and Carl, feeling like their caregiver since the prison. Judith held a special place for you as you were there for her since her birth, and you could tell she was your favourite too as you could always get her to stop crying when the others couldn't.

"let's go back home, yeah?" you cooed at her. As you walked back, you were surprised to pass Daryl out by his motorbike, who was talking with Rick. You stopped as you saw him, he was usually on runs or with Deanna and Spencer, talking to them about plans for this place. They both turned to look at you and you felt Ricks eyes gaze steadily over your body, and glide down to your shorts.

"Y'alright?" Daryl asked you,

“Mhm, just about to take Judith home and get ready for the thing tonight." You looked expectantly at Rick, who snapped away from his gaze and looked at Judith in your arms. You felt his eyes soften as he walked towards you and placed a hand on her cheek, "how is she?" he asked. She had been sick with hunger when we arrived due to the long travel which had worried him more than anything else. "She's feeling better," you reassured. He looked up and met his eyes with yours, you felt your heart flutter and a low burn in your stomach, as you realised how close you were standing to his towering figure. You could almost feel his warm scent as you inched towards him, excited as you finally received recognition, but he snapped away and turned to Daryl again. Feeling the loss of the moment, the burning within you turned to rage, as you turned and carried on walking over to the house, feeling their eyes follow you.

You peered over into Judith's cot, seeing her steady breathing as she slept, Carl beside you.

"Where's dad?" he looked at you and questioned.

"He should be here," you sighed painfully, turning to look in the mirror, hiding how disappointed you felt and preparing doubtfully for the night ahead. You dressed in a short black dress, which hugged you in all the right areas, despite having lost all intent on gaining Ricks attention after todays interaction and him now standing you up.

"Ready?" you turned to Carl, smiling brightly as he picked up Judith. You practiced breathing and gathered yourself, determined to have a good mood, despite heading to the party without Rick. Carl grabbed your hand and smiled reassuringly as we headed out.

The sky was turning dark, but the air was still summery, as you were stood with the group talking amongst yourselves. Deanna had introduced you to many of the people who were here before, walking you round with her. They all seemed like nice people, but they were very sheltered to the outside world and it made you wonder if they could fight if they had to. You had searched the room for Rick, and doing the same as you he had been mingling with the people of the town. But for the past half hour, he had been stood leaning against a wall, talking to a blonde woman, you felt a pit of jealousy and longing in your stomach as you questioned again why he had all the time in the world for others, but not you. He looked over and you met his eyes from across the room , his eyes had a distant look, and were more grey than his usual sharp blue but he had a slanted smile on his face. You snapped your eyes away first, feeling overcome with annoyance, and made your way to the booze table where Abraham sat, who had obviously had too much already.

"Hey sugar," he spouted clumsily, "you look pissed," he stumbled over to you, thudding the table as he moved, making the drink you were pouring topple over. You looked at him unimpressed and he placed his hand on the side of your shoulder, "I'm always here if you need something, anythin." he trailed his hand slowly down your arm. You shrugged him off as you realised he was more drunk than anyone here. "Abraham you should head home, you're acting stupid," you chuckled, watching him as he almost stumbled over onto you. You grabbed his arm firmly and guided him through the room towards the door, earning a couple amusing looks from the group. Rosita followed you out and grabbed his other arm, "Jesus Abraham, could you not of paced yourself, it's barely even 10," she chuckled to him as he groaned at the movement and fell to the ground.

"Let me sit," he grunted.

"I can make sure he gets back okay, thanks y/n," she smiled at me gratefully, "you can head back to the party."

"Actually I was gonna head home, a bit tired from today," you smiled faintly, "just tell em i felt sick or something." Rosita nodded at me as you headed down the pavement towards home. Rick hadn't even spoke a word to you the entire time, what's the use in staying any longer than needed?

As you got home, you poured yourself a glass of wine, feeling comfort in the silence and safety of your home. You leaned against the counter and held your head in your hands, overwhelmed with confusion and pent up frustration. Ten minutes past and you were thinking about a second glass, seeing as you didn't have any drinks at the party, just as you heard the front door open. You put your glass down steadily and called out, "Carl? Why are you back early?" but he didn't respond. You instinctively grabbed a kitchen knife from the side of the counter, as Deanna insisted on all combat weapons being shut away, to keep the peace in the neighbourhood. "y/n?" a rough voice called out expectantly. Rick....

You placed the knife down with a tired yet relieved sigh and walked across the room to pour yourself a second glass.

You heard his coarse steps enter the room, "what do you want, rick?" you asked.

"why did you leave?" he returned wearily.

"Why didn't I leave earlier? ," you groaned lightly, turning towards him.

"I saw how Abraham looked, sorry you had to deal with that," he spoke with a hint of jealousy, walking towards you gradually until he was inches away from you.

"Abraham wasn't the problem," you snapped, making him furrow his brow in confusion,

“what else?" he asked

"What else!" you laughed, "what else? You have ignored me for days, you barely give me a second glance, and a conversation is out of the picture. You stood me up today, after I was hoping tonight we would talk properly. I'm tired of this day after day, just tell me that you don't want me anymore and i’ll stay with carol and michonne," your rambled and looked up at him, his face looked concerned but distant.

"y/n..." he spoke effortlessly.

You turned around again to face the counter, sipping from your glass, as he reached his hand to cup your waist and you felt a bolt of shock rush up your spine at this sudden touch. He feels your body tense up to his touch, "y/n you know I want you" he whispered, his face now close to my ear, as his second hand drifted around the other side of your waist. You relaxed to the words you had been needing to hear, melting into his familiar scent. "But I cant give you what you need, it's not right" he sighed and released his hands from your side. You turned around and grabbed his arm firmly, not letting him leave like this. You knew he felt wrong about your age before, but you didn't realise he felt it so strongly. "That's what this is about?" you asked, stunned. He looked at you painfully, his eyes sharp and staring into yours with longing. "Rick, you know that doesn't matter to me, I want to be with you more than anything, you can't take that away from me," you reassured, placing your hand on his chest.

"I know you want to be with me y/n, that's why I wanted you with me in this house, but when it comes to you I lose my control, I don't want you to regret your experiences, or realise later that you didn't want what I can give you," you looked up at him, stunned to realise he wasn't just talking about my company, but more than that, which we had never even discussed before. You felt your cheeks burn red and released your grasp on him. You realised that this whole time, he was just worried he was going to take advantage of you. You looked up at him again as his gaze softened. "I do want it Rick, and I can make my own choices, I would never regret anything with you," you spoke softly, as he reached to place his hand on your cheek, leaning down to move his lips against yours gently. His beard tickled your skin and you flushed at the sudden contact of his lips, kissing deeper and craving more.

The bottom of your stomach burned intensely and you felt yourself growing damp as he moved his hands up your hips, grasping and pulling your thighs up on top of the counter. You could feel his kiss becoming hungry and rougher, before moving his lips to your neck where he sucked longingly. You gasped, finally feeling his attention completely on you, consuming you, and pushed your hips towards him where you were greeted with his bulge pressing against you. He groaned and pulled away, looking frustrated with himself, "Rick, im sure."

He looked at you, judging your complexion carefully as he gathered himself and moved his hand to your lower back, pulling you further towards him. Your hands travelled from around his neck to drag down his chest, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, his kisses slowed and he looked into your eyes warily. You understood his worries, you'd had little experience with sex, and those times were with boys, who also had little experience, but you felt more strongly about Rick than you'd ever felt for anyone else, he made you feel safe.

Frustrated with his hesitation, you grew needy, not wanting him to stop, "Rick i want more," you spoke, moving one of your hands softly to cup his bulge, his jeans tightening more at your touch, "you're sure?" he asked, looking down at how small your hand would be in comparison to his erection, again questioning if you are too young.

"Please," you whimpered, feeling yourself throb with wetness. Your innocent sounds made him lose his self control and his cock twitched under the close contact of your hand. He'd been waiting for a moment like this for a long time, fantasising every time he came home, while you laid sleepily in his bed and having to control himself when he saw you wearing those tiny shorts. He cupped your thighs and lifted you off the counter to stand in front of him, starting to suck your neck with passion, you took it as a signal to continue unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. You watched his bulge intently, while he unbuckles his belt. You looked into his eyes and saw him watching you. His worries had faded a little as he turns you and pushes your back to bend you over the counter, "be patient," he spoke forcefully. Feeling disappointed at the loss of contact, you arch your ass back to reach him, and he grabs your hips roughly in place, before dragging his hands down to the top of your thighs, and gradually under your dress. With his index finger he strokes your wetness, making you gasp his name at the sudden touch. He lifts your dress over your ass, admiring how you look for him, bent over the counter, making sweet noises. He takes a step back to watch you as you whine, "so needy, hmm?" You're desperate for his touch, missing how his large hands feel against your skin, "I need you," you cry, shocked at your loss of control. He steps back towards you, and moves your underwear to the side, revealing your bare pussy, and he presses his index finger to your entrance, sliding it up to your clit. "You're beautiful," he groans, as your knees grow weak under him.

He leans over you, pressing his bulge to your entrance, reaching to kiss your neck, as his middle finger finally enters you slowly, collecting your wetness and sliding in and out, you whimper his name again and arch into him, making him put his second finger into you, stretching you with it.

"Fuck," he groans, starting to rub your clit, "this is what happens when you wear these tight little dresses, practically begging me to bend you over." His words make you ache inside, getting wetter. With one motion he takes his fingers out of you, and looks down at his erection, almost bursting out of his boxers, feeling his pre-cum already leaking out of his cock at the sight of you. He pulled it out of his boxers, and with the same fingers that he took out of you, he stroked his tip, gathering his cum. Turning you over, he presses the fingers to your lips, "open," he demanded, and obediently you sucked on them, as he gradually moved them further down your throat. You look down, stunned at his size,

"Rick- please." He ignores you and lifts your dress over your shoulders, reaches his hands around you to take off your bra, revealing your naked breasts, making you blush again, feeling vulnerable.

Suddenly, you hear the front door open, Carl must be home. You look at Rick in shock at the situation, and he presses his hand hard against your mouth. You are relieved to hear footsteps go further away and up the stairs, he must be tired from the party, it must be late now. Rick turns to you, looking determined, as he hooks your underwear and moves it to the side of your pussy with his finger. She presses his bare erection to your entrance while admiring your breasts "keep quiet, okay?" you nod, gasping into his hand. "good girl," he smirked at me, as he presses an inch into me, moving it up and down against my clit with his free hand. He leaned in, and moved his lips against yours deeply. You start rocking your hips, losing control at the feeling. You buck your hips swiftly towards him, forcing him to enter you more, surprising him. He grabs the side of your hips hard, digging his fingers into your soft skin, as he pulls out and roughly pushes back in. Your tightness caves around him, clenching with sudden pain, and you feel his dick twitch inside you. "it's okay," he reassures, as he pushes in more, pain and pleasure making you ache. You whimper loudly into his hand at every push he makes, tears forming in your eyes. He shushes you, but as he sees the tears going down your face he removes his hand warily. He pushes into you harder, stretching you as you move closer against him, this time pressing your bare breasts against his chest as he sucked on your neck. He could feel his cock leak at the feeling of your small body against his, but he gathers himself, not letting himself cum yet.

"Is this okay?" he asks worriedly, while gradually getting rougher, pounding all of him into you at once He enjoyed how messy you looked, crying like a baby, but he was concerned at how loud you were being, "you need to stay quiet," he said slowing his thrusts.

"Don't stop, I need to..." you whined into him. "I'm gonna cum" feeling the knot inside you give way slightly and tension build up inside you, making you clench around his cock. His erection twitches at the sensation, making his cock almost burst with his seed. You feel yourself come undone as you gasp into him reaching up and grabbing his hair with your fist, making yourself slide forward and back to ride out your high. Feeling you so tightly around him, his cum leaks out, shooting deep inside you. He groans and looks down worriedly, thinking about the risks of you possibly having a baby inside you at your age. "Fuck," he groans, angry at himself as he pulls his dick out most of the way, still nudging your entrance. His cum spills out, dripping down your thighs, and his worries are erased as he gathers the leaking cum with his finger and pushes it back inside you, loving how you looked.

You wince at how sore you are, "too much," as he apologetically kisses the side of your cheek leading to your jaw. He folds his hands under your weak legs, wrapping them around his waist, as he helps you off the counter, carrying you upstairs.

You felt tired, but utterly content as you finally had him to yourself, his body warm and comforting. He turned on the shower, and lead you in with him, holding your hand. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, taking in what happened.

"You okay?" he asked gently, eyeing your neck and hips where marks were developing. You nodded lightly and smiled, as he came closer and cupped your face with his hands, moving his lips against yours gently. He felt relieved of his worries, knowing he could take care of you now without feeling guilty. You took turns washing eachother, and eventually both retreated to his bed. As you laid looking into his sleepy eyes, you couldn't feel more content and safe. His hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer and holding you to his chest as you both drifted to sleep.

[englishstrawbie]

I don't know if you are still taking prompts, but if you do maybe 80. for Marina? :)

Here you go, I hope you like it. 😊

@soumazoa also asked for 80 & 82, so I incorporated 82 into this too.

>>>>>>>>>>

Carina has never experienced heat like it. The fire burns red as it laps at the trees, each leaf disintegrating in the flames, ashes falling to the ground. Her face flushes under the mask she wears, keeping her as safe as possible from the smoke that billows around her. She can’t help but think of the baby growing inside of her, doubts flooding her mind about whether it was the right thing to do to walk into the path of the wildfire.

But then her patient cries out and Carina is reminded why she is here. A mother, on the backseat of her car giving birth. A father, who may not get to see his daughter grow up. And a baby, who slips into her arms, angry at her sudden arrival into the world.

Carina thinks of Maya, her mind flooded with images of a future she has dreamed about for so long. Of Liam, as he hits his teenage years. Of the little bambina inside of her right now. Of the third child she hopes Maya will agree to eventually with some gentle persuasion. Of the clinic she wants to open and all the patients who will pass through its doors. Of the meals they will cook and the flowers they will plant in the garden. Of the vacations they will take and the kisses they will share.

An aid car from Station 15 appears, pulling Carina away from her dream. She stays with the mama, offering words of comfort as Ben helps them extract the husband from the car. Another rig from Station 88 shows up soon after them and Carina holds on to the newborn as they help her patient onto the gurney.

“You should get to the base,” one of them - Hellerstein - tells Ben, as he takes the baby from Carina’s arms.

Those few words ignite fear in both of them. Something has happened to 19 and they need to be with their family. Ben’s face darkens and Carina feels her heart drops in her chest, her breath catching in the back of her throat. She starts to cough and Ben spins around to look at her, a hand on her arm.

“I’m fine,” Carina says before he can ask if she is okay. “Let’s go.”

He doesn’t have the chance to object before Carina stalks towards the car, climbing into the passenger seat, her leg jiggling impatiently

They are only ten minutes from the base camp and Carina stares out the window for the entire journey, watching as the flames grow dimmer, the fire less intense than it had been deeper in the forest. Her impatience turns into nerves as they approach the base, her eyes darting around as she looks for her wife.

She spots Maya quickly, by the ladder truck, stripping out of her overalls. She opens the door as the car rolls to a stop, ignoring Ben’s grumbles as she jumps out and races towards the truck.

“Maya!”

Maya looks up at the familiar voice, her mouth dropping open when she sees Carina heading towards her, head to toe in yellow.

“Carina, what are you doing here?” she asks, looking her up and down. “And why are you in brush gear?”

“I had to help Warren deliver a baby in the wildfire,” Carina says. “Are you okay?”

She talks breathlessly, her heart thumping in her chest as she looks Maya up and down, searching for any sign of injury. Her skin is dirty, patches of soot covering her face and neck. They hide some red marks and Carina lifts a hand to Maya’s face, running her fingers over a small burn just behind her ear - a spot that is usually reserved for her kisses.

Carina knows their time in the forest will have been difficult and scary. She has tried not to think about it, staying positive for herself and for Liam. “Mommy’s coming home,” she had reassured him - reassuring herself, too.

Another version of her future flashes before her eyes. Carina pictures their house, its curtains closed to block the sunshine from coming in. Dishes are piled up in the kitchen, the trash unemptied for days leaving a foul stench in the air. She is in bed, buried under the covers, her cell phone battery dead and the house phone off its hook. She can hear two young children playing in the distance.

The other side of the bed is empty, the sheets cold. An urn sits on the bedside table, simple in its decor. Carina squeezes her eyes shut, silently praying that it will be gone when she opens them again.

“Carina? Hey, my love, open your eyes.”

She feels a warm hand on her cheek, wiping away tears she didn’t realise were falling. When she opens her eyes, Maya is looking up at her, a concerned frown distorting her pretty face and her blue eyes soft and warm.

“Where did you go?” she asks.

“I…” Carina stumbles over her words, only calming when she feels Maya’s hand wrap around her own.

“Hey,” Maya’s voice brings her back to reality. “Don’t leave me like that again. You scared me.”

“I was so scared for you out there,” Carina confesses. “I… I can’t be without you, Maya.”

It is then that Maya falters.

“Andy… Andy’s on her way to Grey Sloan,” she says, her voice breaking and tears pricking her eyes. “It could have been me. I… I got stuck in the fire, only for a few minutes before they water bombed us, but it was long enough to…”

Carina watches as Maya’s lips wobble, too scared to admit what might have happened.

“I thought about you, and Liam, and… and I can’t be without you.”

Carina’s stomach churns at the thought of her biggest fear coming true and she pushes it down, responds instead by pulling Maya into her arms, wrapping them tightly around her body and burying her face into her neck. She smells of smoke and sweat, and thinks about all the times she has berated Maya for not showering before she comes home. But today she doesn’t care. Today she finds comfort in the scent, taking a long breath and inhaling deeply.

“You’re okay,” Carina murmurs. “And I’m okay.”

She pulls back, her lips curling into a knowing smile.

“We’re okay.”

“Yeah, we are,” Maya says.

Carina holds back a laugh. “No bambina.” She takes Maya’s hand and places it on her stomach. “I mean… We're okay.”

It takes Maya a moment to understand.

“You mean…?”

Carina nods.

“Oh my god,” Maya says, dumfounded. “We’re pregnant?!”

Maya’s hands cup her face, her face breaking into a wide smile. Tears run down Carina’s cheeks, happy ones this time.

“We’re pregnant. Two babies.”

She thinks of Liam and hopes that he is going to love being a big brother, just as much as she loved being a big sister to Andrea.

Despite her exhaustion, Maya can’t contain her happiness as she pulls Carina into a kiss, laughing as she pulls her in for another hug.

“Bishop, we gotta go,” Sullivan’s voice calls out.

His tone is solemn and it dampens their celebrations - for now, at least.

“We’ll celebrate later, okay?” Maya says. “And let’s not tell anyone for now. I want to tell Andy before the others.”

“Okay,” Carina says. She pulls on Maya’s hand to stop her from walking away too quickly. “Except.. Ben knows. And Helm too, but only because she checked the results for me.”

She bites down on her lip, wondering if Maya will be mad that she wasn’t the very first person to hear the happy news. She is pretty sure she sees the roll of Maya’s eyes, but her lips twitch as she masks a smile.

“Fine. I want Andy to be the next to know.” Maya tips her head towards the ladder truck. “You wanna ride shotgun with me?”

Carina’s eyebrows arch, her face lighting up at the thought of sitting next to Maya as she drives the engine.

“That sounds sexy,” she teases.

Maya chuckles. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s go and make sure our family stays in one piece. This little one is going to need its Auntie Andy.”

[plutoswritingplanet]

And I'll Be Like Sugar (Silco x Female!Reader)

a/n: slowly but surely i'm migrating all my works from ao3 on here. this one's a bit old, back when Arcane was super popular and there wasn't as much Silco content out there. Cross-posted on AO3

Warnings: tender Silco (but not like, too tender), mentions of blood and violence, imbalance of power but not really, Silco's touch starved, s-m-u-t

Summary: After a job-gone-kinda-wrong, you get a visit from the Devil himself.

Your heavy boots are splashing the drain water with every step, as you fly through the Alleys, the shadow of pursuit hanging over you like a dark cloud. There is a small scroll in your hand, paper crumbled by your deathly grip. Inside is the key to a new Shimmer shipment, all the places, all the dates, straight up treasure. If you play your cards right, you could help your gang lift up higher from the ground, maybe enough to feel the sun on their fingertips. 

The entrance to your lair is right in front of you, but instead you turn right, into a small back alley. You jump through a stinking cloud of pollution, remembering to hold your breath, as you immediately duck under some boards. 

You crawl right to an entrance to the drain, kicking it up, before jumping towards a ladder. You can never be too careful, especially since the person you stole from was quite literally the most powerful man in the whole Underside, hell even on the top he was quite revered.

So powerful, in fact, that he couldn't comprehend the fact, that anyone would be so dumb, as to try and steal from him. And yet here you were, the biggest idiot on the face of the earth, currently jumping from roof to roof. The air is much thinner up here, easier to breathe. The familiar roof of your lair is getting closer, an open window upstairs awaits your arrival. For good measure, you throw a quick look behind, seeing nothing but empty rooftops. That finally soothes your worry, and you dive inside, feet first, landing on a dusty mat that has been moved under the window. 

The place is warm inside, heat enveloping you almost instantly. Downstairs, you can hear your people chatting amongst the muted sounds of music. Shrugging off your coat and a scarf, you make the short treck to your office. Swinging the door open, you go straight to your desk, hiding the scroll in one of the drawers. 

- Silco knows - a heavy voice of your right hand, Solomon, startles you.

He's standing there, leaning on the door frame, a deep frown settled on his features. Before you took over the organization, his scrutinizing gaze used to make your palms sweat with stress. Now, after years of working together, you've developed a mutual sense of respect. 

- Knows what? - you ask incredulously, throwing a tired look over your arm.

This job has taken all your strength, rolled it up neatly and then chucked it down the drain. There was a throbbing pain beginning to bloom deep inside your skull, and you felt a familiar burn in your legs from pushing your body to its limits. You are going to be barely alive tomorrow, and quite possibly, you won't be able to move in the morning. Your bed is right there, behind a heavy curtain, and you feel a sudden need to plop down onto it.

- This isn't a joke, Y/N - Solomon sounds concerned, which in turn makes you concerned. 

He's the most stern out of the entire gang, rarely showing any emotion, which is why, you turn to face him fully.

- He's probably already on his way here - Solomon takes a few steps inside the office, his heavy boots making the floorboards creak. - I don't know, what kind of agreement you two have, and frankly, I don't want to know. But this? - he motions to the drawer with an offended gesture - This is too much.

God, you should've locked the door behind you, that way you could at least pretend you're not here to answer all of that. Instead, you take a deep breath, pressing your pointer and middle finger to the bridge of your nose. 

- It's just some shipment plans, he won't even notice the loss - your voice is calm and monotonous, like you're explaining the most mundane of things - I doubt he would treat it so personally, at most, he'll send one of his goons, and those I can deal with. No problemo.

Solomon doesn't look too convinced. He opens his lips to speak, but is promptly interrupted, as a scrawny looking kid barges into the office. He's barely standing on two legs, breathing heavily. When he looks up at you, you almost fall back at the panicked expression on his young face.

- Silco is coming here - he finally wheezes out, the words filling the room, soaking into the walls, the floor - I saw his men two streets away.

Fuck.

- Hide everything he doesn't know about, tell men to scram and not to engage - your decision is almost instant, leader skills coming to the forefront. - Bring him straight to my office, I'll deal with him myself... And don't look nervous, we did nothing wrong. 

That's a fat fucking lie, you did several things wrong, starting with stealing from the damned man.

The boy nods and bolts out of the room, his high-pitched voice carrying through the corridors. Downstairs, you can hear your men run around, sounds of crates dragging on the floor make you wince. Solomon looks at you with a typical "I told you so" expression.

- It's all your fault, by the way - you stand in front of your desk with your hands crossed in front of your chest.

- My fault? How exactly is this my fault?

- Yeah, you spoke of the Devil.

The next ten minutes are filled with silent tension. You sit down behind your desk, hand subconsciously close to the treasure drawer, the other one supporting your chin. You look harmless enough, with tired eyes and disheveled hair. Hunched figure hanging over a bunch of papers. Old shipments you've dug out of some boxes. 

Flour, eggs, clean water. Innocent enough.

Your heart starts jumping in rythmn as the sound of boots clicking on the floorboards fills the office. At this point you're able to recognize him by his footsteps alone. A confident walk of a man secure in his power. Before he enters, you manage to take one, calming breath, exhaling it in time with the creaking of the door to your office. 

It's silent for a moment too long, and slowly, you drag your eyes up from the papers.

He's angry. You can tell by the evil glint in his dark eye, a terrifying image, but one you've seen quite often back in the day. You can deal with angry. Like always.

- Silco - your voice carries a steady, calm tune - What brings you here?

He's looking at you from above, somehow seeming even taller than you remember. Can men his age even grow? Probably not, must be the light. Or your nerves, which are currently wracking you from the inside. 

- Don't play coy with me - he seethes through his slightly crooked teeth, something that makes him look even more intimidating, if it's possible.

You open your mouth to shoot something clever his way, but the thoughts dies down as quickly as it arrives.

- I said don't - there is a bark to his voice you didn't expect.

One of his eyebrows twitches slightly, and finally it downs on you.

He's not just angry, he's beyond furious.

You've dealt with furious significantly less than angry. 

- Silco - you try with a gentler voice - It's nothing, you know it's nothing.

Wrong move. His evil eye gleams in the darkened room, a snarl settling on his lips as he takes two long steps towards your desk, nearly colliding with it. The pace at which he came at you makes you instantly recline back in your chair. 

- It's not fucking nothing - his slim figure leans over the desk, sharp fingers dragging over the mahogany wood - We've lost a whole shipment yesterday, three weeks of work went to shit.

His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper and it makes the hair at the back of your neck stand right up. He's close, you can feel anger coming off of him in waves, invading your space in an intimidating aura. For such a lean person, he can be surprisingly nightmarish. 

- I will not loose my product again, not one barrel.

- You won't exactly loose it - against all reason, the words leave your mouth, stunning him into silence - To loose something, you must be oblivious as to where it is. And you'll know where your one barrel...

The word "barrel" doesn't even fully leave your lips, before Silco collides his fist with the desk. You yelp, jumping in your chair. Your hands come up on instinct to shield yourself from... Well, from whatever is going to happen. 

He has turned around, a frustrated groan leaving him, as he pushes stray strands of hair from his forehead. You can see the muscles of his back move.

- I should kill you for it - he sighs finally, after a tense moment of silence.

- You won't - your voice sounds confident, but your right hand comes down to the dagger at your thigh, fingers skimming the handle, just in case. 

Finally he turns to face you, and you recognize his expression immediately. He's tired. Exhausted in the same way you are. Suddey all of his threats, and all of your jokes fall short, because ultimately, this is who you both are. Just a couple of really tired people.

- Give me the documents, so I don't have to kill anyone this evening - his voice sounds almost pleading, almost like he truly doesn't want to hurt people.

You know better though. There is no compassion here, he's just tired, and corpses tend to create problems. 

- It's just one barrel Silco - slowly, you push yourself from the chair, standing on slightly wobbly legs - One for two months, three if we're careful. It's good business.

He hums low in his throat, the good eye trailing over your face, neck, your hands. He looks less like a creature from your darkest nightmares, and more like a human man. A small victory on your part.

- Good business, that costs me - he counters, watches closely, as you slide to the front of your desk.

- I beg to differ - there is a cautious smirk playing at the corners of your lips.

Not enough to irk him, but enough to make his eyebrows raise.

- If anything, I'm creating more customers for you. They buy my goods, and get addicted to yours. And round, and round it goes...

To that, he tenses, a careful expression tugging at his features. You know he's thinking over what you've said, by the way his eyebrows scrunch together, amd his scarred lips form a single, tight line. 

- One barrel, three moths, half the price - he says after a moment, a note of finality entering his tone. 

Years have taught you, when to stop pushing, and so, you nod. Then, with all the grace you can muster from your exhausted body, you go back behind the desk, and take out the scroll.

Instead of taking it to him, you place it delicately on the desk, sliding it slowly towards the edge. He gives you an annoyed look and with a single step towards you, grabs the paper. 

- Expect a cdelivery, should be here by the end of the month. Have the money ready by then - he concludes, voice quiet and reserved, just like everything about him. 

With that he turns to leave, securing the scroll in the pocket on the inside of his jacket.

- I've had many pains in my ass, but you, Y/N, are something completely different. - he mutters, as his steps carry him towards the door.

You look over the papers on your desk, eyes focusing on anything other than his back. 

- That's why you love me.

Silence falls over the room like a thick blanket. Your heart stops in your chest and nearly jumps to your throat, as you realize, he isn't leaving, you can't hear any footsteps. It takes all of your strength not to look up from the papers. You have a feeling, that if you did, you'd be dead in a second.

Too much, you always say too much, and then you're fucked.

All you can hear is the deafening sound of your heart thrumming inside your chest. You can feel it, beating against your ribs. The whole situation is making you dizzy. Still, you refuse to look up, cursing yourself for speaking, cursing him for saying nothing.

- Come back to the Last Drop with me.

It takes your breath right out of your lungs. The way his silent voice carries through the room, slicing the tension. When was the last time you've heard him say something so delicate, so pleading? Then again, maybe it was just a dream, a small hallucination, caused by the ever present toxic fumes. You have to know, if you've heard him correctly, so you look up.

He's back is turned to you, slightly hunched. There is tension in his muscles and you can see his right hand clutch at the scroll he's just recovered.

- What? - you ask cautiously, there is no point in denying his effect on you, not anymore.

- I said - his evil eye finds you in the darkened room, shivers running up your back as it stares at you unblinking - Come back to the Last Drop with me.

His lips do in fact move in rythmn with the words, so he must've really said that. Your gut churns, twisting inside. Because you want to, despite the threats and the violence, and all the sins this man has committed, you want to take him up on his offer. 

But, you're people need you here, they need to see how strong their leader truly is. If they saw you leave with Silco, it would shatter any semblance of respect they've gathered for you. And so, you shake your head, look down at the papers to escape his burning gaze. He can see your internal conflict clear as day, in the way your brows crease, in your clenched jaw.

- You know I can't - of course he does, that doesn't stop him however from crossing the room right back to your desk.

- Or I can just take you - he muses, one lanky finger tapping at the wooden surface, so close to your hand, you can almost feel the heat.

It's so much harder to control your breathing, when he's nearing you. And despite the desk being right here, he doesn't stop, sliding next to the edge. 

- Make them think this is your punishment - the offending finger slowly starts to drag from your wrist up your arm, your stance waivers - To run errands for the awful, terrible, merciless Silco.

His hand squeezes your biceps gently, before sliding further up. You follow his silhouette, until he escapes your peripheral vision, settling behind you. The other hand comes to rest against your hip, tugging gently at the fabric of your pants. 

- Silco... - you don't exactly know what to say, and you instinctively try to turn around, to face him.

He doesn't let you, however, thin arms encircling you whole, as he presses against you, lithe body resting entirely on your back. His chin finds purchase at the juncture of your neck, where you feel his nose trace up, towards your ear.

Silco inhales a long breath, his hold tightening even more.

- I want you there, at the Last Drop, with me - the words are breathed into your neck like a prayer, the tingling sensation is making you sway in your place.

- No you don't - you manage to choke out, when you feel his thin lips press against your pulse.

- Oh? - one hand leaves your hips and goes straight to your hair, grabbing a fistful, and craining your neck back.

Finally, you're able to move, arm coming up, to touch his scarred side of the face, fingers skimming over the abused flesh. His evil eye stares at you, fire swirling inside, but the good one, the beautiful green one, flutters closed for just a moment.

- When did you become an expert on what I want? - he asks through gritted teeth, voice sharp, in contrast with his serene expression.

You try to turn again, and this time, he lets you. 

- You need me here - your voice is quiet, yet reasonable, the way you know will work on him - Someone needs to control these people, and God knows, they don't trust you, not after everything that's happened. 

His lips curl into a snarl, not a threatening one, you'd recognize that one everywhere. This one is different, like something is hurting him from deep inside, and for a second you can't help but wonder. Does he regret his decisions, all that's happened with Vander years ago.

- I want you near me - it's childish, you both know it, an impossible plea.

- You have me.

That's all he needs, this single admition, and his hand comes up to your face, palm sliding over your cheek and finding purchase in your hair. The other, grabs at your hip, kneeding the flesh, dragging you closer. And finally, finally he kisses you.

There is no gentleness, all tongue and teeth, devouring you like a man starved, and in a way, he is. The desk is digging into your thighs, as he presses closer, and closer still, like he wants you to envelop him whole. Which, given his slim figure, is not something out of the realm of possibility. 

- Please - you gasp, when you both finally part for air.

You don't know for what you're asking, but you're asking for it all the same, fingers tugging at the stiff fabric of his waistcoat. 

Silco looks over your disheveled state, taking in the mess of hair, the swollen lips and the glossy eyes. His teeth worry his bottom lip, and it's as close as you'll ever get to a flustered reaction.

- My girl - he whispers under his breath, and that little phrase goes straight to your core.

All you can do is nod, too stunned to speak. He, in turn, dives back in, aiming for your neck. The hand on your hip dips lower, under your thigh, a silent command, which you obey without question. You're shuffling backwards onto the desk, free hand throwing the documents off the surface. They spill around you, shipments from months ago, a ruse you've already forgotten. Because now, he's biting down on the place your neck meets your shoulder, the mixture of pain and pleasure makes you whimper. 

Hands tug against your shirt, the dirty cotton giving way. You can hear the fabric tearing around your neckline, and immediately you throw your hands up. God knows, you can't afford a new one. Silco doesn't waste time, immediately ducking down to suck a hickey right in the middle of your collar bones. He was never one to give jewelery, and this ornament looks better than any necklace, in his humble opinion. You can feel him, hard and ready on the inside of your thigh, the fabric of his pants scratching your skin. 

- And who's the pain in the ass now? - your smile is sharp, when he looks up at you, abandoning the abused flesh.

You can see his eyebrows scrunching, and a deep panic settles into your bones. It wouldn't be the first time, when he leaves you hot and wanting, simply because you've said something that irked him. He was not a man to triffle with, yet, you simply couldn't stop. That being said, it's been a long time, for the both of you, so when you first see the dreaded crease between his eyebrows, you act immediately. Both hands shoot out, towards his belt, and before he has a chance to withdraw, you hook your fingers into the loops of his trousers, dragging him back to you, closer than ever. 

- Your girl - you remind him in a breathy voice, and by the way his evil eye glints, you know, you have his complete attention. 

A new spark fills him, and with strength not expected from a man of his stature, he makes quick work of your pants, pushing your hands away when you try to help him. Your hips fall on the desk, as he tugs your clothing from your legs, the furniture shifts slightly across the floor from the force of his actions. You knew it was a long time, but your had no idea it was that long. Or maybe he just really missed you. Wishfull thinking.

Your breath catches in your throat, as a familiar sound of a belt buckle getting undone fills the room. Silco doesn't like to be seen naked, a habit you've grown well accustomed to. Which is why you nearly jump from your place at the desk, when he quikly unbuttons his waistcoat. First three buttons of his shirt come flying open as well, exposing portruding collarbones and a lean chest. Shit, he's pretty, despite the scars, and bruises, and time. 

It's honestly, quite embarrasing, how easily he sinks into you. One push is all he needs to be completely seethed, one push to arch your back righ off the desk. He doesn't comment on it, a small blessing. But then again, he doesn't really say much during the act, he's not a vocal man. 

Or so you thought.

Because as soon, as he starts moving, a harsh, snapping motions that make you jump on the desk, you swear you can hear something amongst the creaking of furniture. It's a small sound, like a grunt of pain, but you know better. And as soon, as it happens, his grip on you tightens to an impossible degree, bony fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, as if trying to rip it apart. There will be bruises in the morning, but this is a problem for the future you. The current you is slowly starting to loose yourself in the rythmn, the cruel pace that leaves you breatheless at his mercy. Silco drags you closer, when you start to shift away on the desk, the wooden surface scratching your back. 

- Shit, Silco... fuck - the words you spit out are nonsensical, punctuated by sharp thrusts.

One hand detatches itself from your abused hips, finding your clit in a matter of seconds, and immediately starting to circle it with a force that borders on painful. Borders, being the key word, and as soon as the ministrations start, you throw your head back. All you can do it scrunch up your face and bite down on your bottom lip, to stiffle the broken moans threatening to spill. Soon, you're coming, hard and messily, legs shaking on both sides of his unrelenting hips. Tears prick your eyes, the sensation quickly becoming too much to bear. 

As if on que, his rythmn staggers, first low moan spills from his lips, and you try to rise on your elbows, to catch it in your lips, like smoke. He helps you, one arm coming behind your back and dragging you up, until you hang on his lithe frame. He's breathing hard against your neck, fingers finding purchase wherever they can. Finally, when you think you can't take anymore, he stops, burried deep inside you. You can feel him shuddering against you, and he comes with a strangled moan, one that's too broken, too intimate. 

Both of you stay motionless for a long while, catching your breath against eachother. Your fingers comb absentmindedly through his short hair, slicking it back to place, scratching his skull. He answers with gentle pressure at the back of your neck, the tension in your shoulders coming undone under his palm. You don't want him to leave, nearly reach out for him, when he finally detangles himself from you. But yet again, old habits die hard, and you fall back down onto the desk with a thud, letting the pain in your bones consume you. 

You half expect to hear the door open, after you note absentmindedly, that he has fixed his clothes. What you don't expect, is gentle touches cleaning you up, helping you straighten your legs. You don't expect him to wrap an arm around you and help you get off the desk. And most certainly you don't expect the kisses. On your forehead, nose, cheeks. On the crown of your head. Alas, he does all that and more, as he places you on a sofa, in the corner of the room.

- The Last Drop - he whispers against your temple, crouching next to you - Think about it.

And then he's gone. His knees crack, when he stands up, bony hand leaving your grasp. You allow yourself to close your eyes for just a moment, before springing to action.

There are people here, your people. And you have to look presentable, before one of them, inevitably barges in, so terrified for your safety. 

[lady-rose-moon]

The Selection || Part Three ||

Hello everybody, welcome back to The Selection! I was struggling a lot with this one but thanks to @lokisgoodgirl, I got everything in motion! Now, let's go through the introductory things

Masterlist

Word count: 4.3k

The sun arched over the Kingdom early the next morning, shining its rays across the sleepy golden city below. With the sun, the people that lived within the houses down in the general city of Asgard began lighting their fires to bake, opening the taverns and preparing for another day in the city market. However, up in the castle, everything was still very much asleep. The glorious golden rays of the sun reached through every window in the palace, intending to awaken all the people that were living there. 

The sun shone through the golden curtains of your bedroom and directly into your eyes. You were used to this sort of wake-up call, the sun in your eyes being the first indication that you needed to be awake and ready to start your work in the field with your friends. You groaned drowsily as you sat up in bed, thinking for a few moments that you were back in your home and living peacefully away from the stress that was The Selection.  

Your assumption that you were back at home was destroyed when your foot hit the cold floor beneath you and not the splintered ladder that was familiar to you. With a groan, you sat up in bed and took in your surroundings. You were in Asgard’s castle, an unwilling participant in a game show that would win you Prince Loki Odinson’s hand in marriage. With an un-lady-like groan, you slumped back down into the bed and flung the duvet back over your head, wishing beyond reason that it would somehow take you home.  

You should be out in the fields by now, planting the seeds for the harvest to come, being carelessly free from trillions of eyes. The soft opening and closing of the door signalled that you were no longer alone in your bedroom and when you heard the soft ‘my lady?’ you knew that it was your maids, coming to dress you for the day, a day spent attempting to woo the Prince.  

“My lady,” Madysin attempted to catch your attention again, her feet padding over to stop at the foot of your bed, “it is time to get up, I’m afraid.” 

You peered over the edge of your duvet and smiled kindly at the maid before your eyes landed on the dress that was draped in her arms. Dress. Up. NO. 

“My lady, you must get up,” Madysin tried, setting down the dress to heave the blanket away from your form, “it is eight in the morn and breakfast shall be ready to serve in half an hour.” 

With a resigned sigh, you slipped out of bed and headed towards the divider, unlacing your nightgown and slipping out of it before you allowed Charlotte to begin dressing you. “Will Prince Loki and his family be dining with us?” you asked softly, watching Charlotte’s fingers work on the lacing at the front of the dress.  

“No, my lady,” the maid replied, never looking away from her work, “the royals dine in a room of their own unless they order that they wish to dine with The Selected. Prince Loki does not wish to this day.” 

Your shoulders sagged in relief and you released a breath. “That is good,” you whispered with a smile, “I would hate to be late if the royals were dining with us.” 

“You’re not going to be late, my lady,” Charlotte replied with a gentle smile, pulling away to admire how the dress fit you and how you looked in it. “You look positively radiant, my lady!” the woman smiled, clapping her hands together and bouncing on the balls of her feet.  

You walked over to a mirror and when you saw the dress in the mirror, you couldn’t help but smile at it. The dress was simple enough, but it was such a luscious shade of green that you couldn’t help but stare at it. Your hair had been pulled up into a bun while you were getting dressed, giving you an aura that you hadn’t felt before. You felt like you were a Princess. The corset pulled in your stomach, but you found that it didn’t hurt when it was in place, nor did the heels that were slipped onto your feet. 

Soon after, you departed from your bedroom with a guard already there to guide you to the dining room. Once you entered, you were instantly greeted with the screeching voice of Lorelei and a girl that you hadn’t met before, yelling at each other and gesturing to their gowns.  

“I had this dress commissioned for my time here,” Lorelei screeched, the height of her voice ringing through your ears as you irritably marched to a free seat beside Cleo, “you must return to your room and change out of yours! You cannot copy me!” 

“I can do what I want!” the girl retorted, her hand slapped to her chest as she stood up to the entitled lady in front of her. You noticed how beautiful she was and how the colour of her dress complimented her much more than did for Lorelei. “The maids dressed me in this, Lorelei,” she continued with a smirk, “and besides, you do not suit blue anyhow.” 

You stifled a giggle at how offended Lorelei looked in that moment and Cleo playfully slapped your arm to keep you from full on giggling. The girl had obviously never been told ‘no’ before and it showed. She looked ready to launch herself at the girl, but Phoebe stepped in and pulled her away, coming over to you and Cleo with a polite smile. 

“Sorry for that,” Cleo whispered with a small grin, “this is Katerina Godding, she lives in the room opposite mine.” 

Katerina looked between the three of you with a gentle smile before she shook all of your hands and introduced herself. She was from Essex on Midgard, grew up in a simple home with two brothers and her parents divorced, she outright told you three that she was there just for her status as a “Selected” and wasn’t really going to work for Loki’s heart.  

“I’m not really looking for love right now,” she said simply before realising how awful it sounded and quickly following up with, “but it’s not because I see Loki as lesser to Thor, I just had a really bad breakup.” 

That earned some sympathetic nods before you patted her on the back and smiled softly. “We are all here for one reason or another,” you whispered with a caring smile, “I hardly feel like we should be at each other’s necks just because one of us is actually trying to know Loki.” 

“Do you?” Katerina asked timidly, looking between her golden locks to study you. Her blue eyes reflected that shy curiosity that you saw so much in your little sister’s, and you couldn’t help but tilt your head questioningly. Realising you didn’t know what she meant, Katerina spoke again, “do you want to know Loki or are you just here for the money?” 

“I’m here to give a fighting chance,” you replied simply, following the girls as they began to seat themselves at the large table to break their fast, “I might not feel anything towards Prince Loki but I am sure that somewhere within these twelve girls, he will find the one for him. I intend to make myself known to him, is all.” 

Katerina eyed you with a small smile before nodding and smoothing out her dress and filling her plate with breakfast before turning to her right and aiding Cleo with her decision on what to eat. You watched the girl with a small smile, knowing that she would make a good bride for the Prince but you also knew that she held no interest for the man. 

Halfway through the breakfast, the maid that you had met yesterday walked in holding a scroll. The chatter in the room died down quickly upon her faint ‘hem hem’ and every girl in the room turned their head to look at the maid. “Prince Loki has announced that he shall begin the customary dates with the Selected on this day,” the maid read from the scroll, a blush colouring her ears, “the girl he would like to meet first is Lady Adriana Sirandrew followed by Lady Y/N Y/L/N.” 

Your heart froze as your name was announced and you shrunk into the back of your chair as the chatter buzzed about again with excitement. Down the table, Adriana was fanning her face fakely and gushing over how excited she was to meet Prince Loki when in truth, you knew she was just eager to find the gossip that she knew the Prince had.  

All you could think of was the harsh first meeting that you had experienced with the Prince.  

The scowl on his face made you freeze and feel so small under his gaze, and you gulped before bowing your head, “I apologise, sir.” 

“Hm,” the man replied, uninterested in your apology and the way you had bowed, as if he was a lord and not who he truly was, “I should think so. Be careful where you are walking, maid.” 

You nodded feebly before whispering another apology and scurrying off to meet the other girls in front of the golden doors leading to the throne room. 

You wondered what the man thought of you after that experience, but you knew that he will probably mock you for not watching where you were going, or he would force you to apologise repeatedly for bumping into the Prince of Asgard. You had heard the stories of Prince Loki’s behaviour and it wasn’t flattering. 

“You get to meet Prince Loki today!” Cleo gushed, looking around Katerina to smile proudly at you. Her blue eyes shone with excitement as she clapped for you, “you should be so happy!” 

Without a thought, you stood from your chair and excused yourself, heading back to your bedroom.  

As you walked, you thought deeply about the experience you had with Loki already and how you had probably lost any chance that you ever could have had by bumping into him last night. Yet again, you weren’t looking and bumped into a familiar hard chest but this time, you stumbled backwards and would have hit the floor if strong hands didn’t immediately reach forward and grasp your hand and waist. Staring in disbelief, your eyes met Loki’s and your heart officially ceased its beating. 

“I’m starting to think this is your method of wooing me, mortal,” the God’s sultry voice chuckled as he helped you back to your feet. His hand didn’t let go of yours as he looked you over with pure concern, “are you alright?” 

You gazed up at him curiously and rubbed your arm nervously while smiling at him. “Perfectly fine,” you responded quickly, realising a moment later that he was still holding your hand and you pulled it away from him, “forgive me, you must be on your way to see Lady Adriana.” 

“Actually, I didn’t specify who I wanted to see first,” he corrected you with a cheeky grin on his face, offering you his arm, “why don’t we begin with the one who started her seduction before anyone else?” 

“I’m not trying to seduce you!” you protested, your cheeks growing hot at the thought of such a thing, “I don’t want your title, your name nor anything like that! I’m just here and I’m going to do my best. That’s all I can do.” 

Loki quirked an eyebrow and eyed you curiously as you linked your arm with his and began to walk. “You come from a small town in Norway. Tell me, do you Nordic still worship us as Gods?” the Prince asked, the delighted smile on his face indicated that he already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear you say it. 

“Ever since you Gods made yourselves known, our beliefs have resurfaced, yes,” you replied with a look of boredom on your face, “but on top of working in the mines, in the fields, in the cliffs, we don’t have time to truly sit and pray like other parts of Midgard or another realm.” 

The look on Loki’s face was shocked, calculating as he tried to figure out just how to help with the situation before the stony mask was back in place and you couldn’t read him. “I see,” he began as he led you out into the garden, “how much time do you have for yourselves at night?” 

“Barely any,” you replied simply, looking up at him with a frown, “I just get home, get a shower, get my siblings ready to eat and then after we have eaten, it’s right to bed to begin our jobs at five the next morning. The last day I was actually free was the day before my tenth birthday.” 

Loki watched you curiously before tilting his head. “Why don’t you just take a day off?” he suggested easily, unaware of how stupid the suggestion sounded. 

“A day off? A day off?” you spat in disbelief, withdrawing your arm and ignoring the need to intertwine them again, “I’m sorry, your majesty, but we are not like royalty. We work for the meals we have on our tables; we work night and day sometimes if the harvest is low. Do not speak to me about a day off.” 

Loki stared at you in shock as you stalked off and then furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to think about what he had done wrong. Ah, he thought with a frown, she is quite different to the other girls, I see. Hardworking and proud. 

You stalked through the halls, keeping an eye out for any green magic that might signal that Loki was following you but there was no sight of the God. As you rounded the corner, you gasped as you almost bumped into someone. “I really need to pay attention,” you mumbled, patting down your skirts before seeing who you had almost bumped into, “OH! Queen Frigga! I am so sorry.” 

“Not to worry, dear,” the Queen smiled, meeting your eyes and something glimmered in her irises before she tilted her head in a manner that was not unlike to Loki’s, “were you not supposed to spend some time with my son?” 

You scoffed and then realised how un-lady-like that sounded and apologised again before whispering, “he asked why I couldn’t take a day off when I was back home. Not to offend your parenting, your grace, but he sounded like a brat when he asked that.”  

Frigga smiled and inclined her head. “I know what you are saying,” she muttered, looking past you out of a window, “my boys were raised in luxury and do not understand the trials of life as you and I do.” 

You sighed and hugged your arms as you looked up at the Queen. The way she was smiling indicated that she knew exactly how you felt and she did not blame you for feeling thus. “Your son is wonderful, my Queen,” you whispered softly with a small smile, “he just needs to learn that not everybody is like him.” 

“Why don’t you be the one to teach him?” Frigga asked with a smile, watching surprise race across your face, “you’re here for a reason, perhaps that is what it is.”  

The surprise that flashed over your face seemed to amuse the Queen and she patted your head before whispering ‘good luck’ and walking away peacefully. You stood in shock before walking back to your room.  

Lunch time was more awkward than you could have imagined as Adriana was gushing about the kindness that Loki had shown her on their outing through the gardens. She eagerly talked about how Prince Loki linked their hands and told her about all the different types of flowers - ‘I don’t much care for flowers’ she said ‘but hearing him explain it was exhilarating’ - and you awkwardly ate your lunch as the Katerina, Cleo and Phoebe formed a human wall around you to keep people from asking about your date. 

The wall didn’t hold for long as Lorelei tapped her glass and caught all of the girl’s attention. “I do believe that Loki visited two girls today,” she spoke up with a wicked smile, her cat-like eyes fixing on your slouched form with a smirk, “how did yours go, Y/N?” 

“Yes, tell us!” one girl spoke up – Chloe De Mereen from Alfheim – and she clapped her hands together with an eager smile, “was he lovely?” 

Your cheeks flushed as you swallowed the last piece of your food before looking at the eleven eager girls. Relenting, you sighed and whispered, “he forgot.” 

There was uproar, all of the girls – minus Lorelei – swarmed you and begged to know what the Prince’s excuse was but you didn’t utter another word as you faked tears and ran from the room, your friends following after.  

Silence reigned the halls as you walked but you could tell that at least Katerina had questions so you decided to venture to her room. When Katerina realised where they were going, she rushed ahead and kept watch of both directions of the hallway before ushering the three of you in. Once the door was closed, she turned to you and plainly said, “alright, that was a clear lie back there. What happened.” 

You collapsed into one of Katerina’s sofa cushions and released a deep sigh as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “He wasn’t as perfect as he was for Adriana, that is for sure,” you began with a pout and you watched as the three girls gathered to hear your tale. 

So you told them what had happened and there was varying opinions on what the Prince meant but then you told them about bumping into the Queen and they were all as perplexed as you were and you all agreed to think on it and reconvene tomorrow to discuss what everybody’s theories were. For that afternoon, the four of you decided that a tour around the castle didn’t sound like a bad idea and you visited every room that you were allowed to, giggling as you went along.  

That night, after the dining and the feasting had concluded, you began the long journey back to your room. The lovely turkey that you and the girls had feasted on was still sat in your stomach and keeping you sated for the time being. There were no run-ins with Trickster Princes as you walked all the way back to your room and for a moment, you considered it odd that he was not around before remembering that there were eleven other girls searching for his hand.  

The walk back was peaceful and silent minus the clicking sound of your heels against the golden tile. The sound of your dress wafting about your legs was comforting as the early evening breeze followed you back to the room you called home. It was your second night here but you were sure that you would be going home soon after what happened with Prince Loki.  

As soon as you made it back to your room, you closed and locked the door before sighing in relief and immediately beginning to unlace the front of your bodice to free you from the dress. The eagerness to get out of the fabric distracted you from the small fwip of magic that echoed through the room before a presence made itself known.  

“Might I ask why you’re so off around me?” a voice sounded from behind you, causing you to jump and spin around to stare at the Dark Prince standing in your doorway and you quickly dropped into a curtsy. “No, no, please,” the Prince began quickly, holding up his hands, “no need for false formalities, dear, we both know you don’t mean it.” 

You stared at him in shock before returning to a natural stance as you stared at him. "I just miss home," you admitted, admiring your painted nails with disgust, you weren't used to such fine grooming, "my home is so different." 

 "How different?" Loki asked, stepping further into the room, closing the door behind him and leaning against it, one sultry eyebrow raised as he waited for you to begin again. 

 "For one, ladies do not have time for dresses, nail polishes and two baths a day," you explained, unconsciously scratching at the polish in an attempt to get it off, "for another, we do not have the money for such finery so why should we be given it here?" 

 "Because you are the King and Queen's guests," Loki replied easily, his head tilted to the side as he studied you. His eyes glinted as he admired you, the deep emerald piercing through you and making you feel bare as he studied you. "Your family is getting paid as long as you're away, where is the issue?"  

 "Them getting paid will not keep the rest of our town from being poor, your highness," you scoffed, crossing your arms and meeting his intense gaze with a brow raised and a scowl, "if anything, my parents have probably been donating the money since it started coming in." 

 Loki hummed and stood straight, striding over to you and grasping your hand, bending to press a formal kiss to your knuckle before straightening again and heading for the door. From over his shoulder, he addressed you again, "I shall keep you here as long as possible. To make sure your town thrives off the money your parents get given. Good evening, Princess." 

 With that, the Dark Prince was gone and you were left confused. What was that about?! 

You tried to distract your mind from thinking about how the interaction had gone by walking into the bathroom and running the shower, standing under the pouring water and washing your body. Yet even still, your mind wandered to how soft his lips felt against your hand and how the glint in his eyes awoke something inside you that you hadn’t felt before. You wondered to yourself as you turned off the shower and stepped out how Loki could have so many faces. The Prince, the conceited one, the man who wanted nothing to do with you and then the gentleman he was. Your heart quaked as you thought back to that small kiss to your knuckle and you scoffed as he pulled your nightgown over your head and fiddled with the laces. 

“My lady,” came the voice of Charlotte broke through your mind and you turned to see that she and Madysin were standing by the door, staring at you in shock, “you bathed yourself.” 

You tilted your head before releasing a soft sigh and walking over to the both of them. “I needed to think and a good shower always clears my head,” you explained to them, watching understanding fill their eyes and you nodded, “Madysin, could you go down to the kitchens and request a cup of tea and three biscuits for me? I do not intend to go to bed so soon.” 

“It shall be done, my lady,” Madysin replied before disappearing through the door in a flurry of skirts.  

“If I may, my lady?” Charlotte spoke up timidly, following you into the sitting room of your chambers, “how was your meeting with Prince Loki?” 

As you knelt by the fire and held out your hands to feel it’s warmth, you thought back to your short time with the Prince and released a tired sigh. “It barely lasted five minutes, Charlotte,” you replied solemnly, “he’s just so different to me and I feel that I cannot understand his mind and why he wishes to speak with me. He doesn’t know how I grew up and just assumed I could have a day off.” 

With your permission, Charlotte knelt beside you and held your shoulder with a small smile. “I understand,” she whispered with a shy smile, “I came from a poorer background, and I was so lucky to become a maid here. I was cleaning Prince Loki’s chambers one time and he asked me ‘do you ever get a day off? You’ve been cleaning in here every day for two weeks’. I believe he thinks he is phrasing it in a way of concern, but it doesn’t come across thus so we both got offended. Perhaps he didn’t mean it in a terrible way?” 

You pondered her explanation and found that it made sense with Loki’s personality. With his older brother, he was bubbly and outgoing, and you could tell that he would never consider the servants assisting his every move around the castle. Loki, however, would notice and express concern because he is not as active and has time to think before doing anything. Perhaps Charlotte was right. 

“Perhaps...” you whispered, looking into the roaring flames as heat rose to your cheeks, “perhaps the Prince was genuinely trying to be kind and considerate?” 

Madysin returned shortly after with your tea and biscuits and she smiled politely as she set them on the coffee table to your right. “Will there be anything else, my lady?” she asked timidly, her eyes flicking over to Charlotte in a moment of curiosity on why the other maid was kneeling with her lady. 

“Please, sit,” you requested, pulling a pillow from the sofa and setting it at the girl's feet, “I’d like to get to know my maids a lot better since we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other.” 

So, Madysin sat and as you sipped your tea, you learned more of their backgrounds and enjoyed the company of the girls who had grown up so similarly to you. Thoughts of the Dark Prince escaped your mind temporarily as you enjoyed their soft giggles and whispered gossip. 

On the other wing, Prince Loki sipped his tea as he pulled a book from Midgard from his shelves. He would need to learn more about their culture, it seemed. His education was clearly lacking.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Main tags:

@lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @evelyn-kingsley @slpnbty2001 @jennyggggrrr @hahaha12123445 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @lovingchoices14 @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbs @nerdy-fangirl-65 @lonadane @silverfire475 @chantsdemarins @iamsherlocked1479 @kittiowolf210 @just-someone11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

Fic tags:

@paperclippedmime @lokidbadguy @pauline-s12 @lokixryss @here4thefanfics @lokisgirll @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @goblingirlsarah @crimson25 @johnmurphys-sass @paperclippedmime @fictive-sl0th @sititran @moonlightreader649 @raelorns21 @neenieweenie @cakesandtom @maeisonline @rosaline-black @i-wanna-be-yn-so-bad @harlequinarts @venusofthehardsells @clockblobber @el-zef @mochie85 @fantasy73 @trojanaurora @alexakeyloveloki @fictional-hooman @marvel

[ghostfives]

Hello there I don't know if you still want to do fives x hunter. But if you do my request is that omega gets the flu, cold, any illness a child Omega can get You're choice. Because of that a very worried pregnant hunter trying to take care of her. But fives dose something that shak it taught him as a cadet to make omega fell better and calm hunter. It can be a modern au or just normal star war you can also choose. But if not I love your work and you should keep it up. Sorry if this is long.

Papa’s love

“Omega? Honey, time to get up. The others are ready for the mission.” Hunter calls through the curtains, humming softly.

“I’m too tired.” Omega croaks, and winces. Her voice sounds awful.

Fives frowns. “That… didn’t sound good.” He says.

Hunter rubs his bump. “You guys all go, I’ll take care of her. She’s never been off of Kamino, she must have caught something.”

“You’re sure?” Fives asks softly, rubbing Hunters bump.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Hunter kisses him. “Go on.”

Fives nods and heads out, leaving Hunter and Omega alone.

Hunter sighs and slowly climbs up the ladder, having a bit of trouble but he’s fine. “Omega?” He gets in, and frowns when he sees her hair damp with sweat, sticking to her head. And the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Omega…”

“Please don’t send me away.” Omega whines, shivering.

Hunter immediately crawls over and pulls her into his lap, being so careful of his bump. “Shhhh, I’m here baby girl. You aren’t blunt anywhere.” He says softly, kissing her head. He frowns at the heat rolling off of her. “Oh baby, you’re sick.” He says softly.

“Sorry.” Omega hiccups, curling tightly to Hunter.

“Oh honey no, I’m not mad sweety. Never mad.” Hunter promises, carrying her out. “Let’s get you some medicine, and curl up in bed. In my bed.” He whispers, and goes to the medicine cupboard. He looks through it, sighing softly. “No kids medicine, I’ll have to message everyone to get some. For now let’s lay in my-“ he startles as Omega throws up all over his chest.

Omega sobs. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry!” She cries, sobbing loudly.

“Oh shhhh, it’s okay. Honey it’s okay.” Hunter frowns. “Let’s get you all cleaned up and into bed. It’s not your fault.” He kisses her head softly and gently heads to the bathroom to get her cleaned up.

Once Omega is in clean clothes Hunter tucks them both into bed, and cuddles her close.

“My tummy hurts.” Omega whines and snuggles close, sniffling softly.

“I know, honey. Papa will be back soon with some medicine and other things.” Hunter promises, kissing her head. “He also says he knows how to make your tummy feel better.” He says softly, kissing her head. “It’ll be okay.” He promises, rubbing her back.

Omega whines softly, and snuggles close. She feels so awful, and she wants her papa.

“He’ll be here soon, I promise.” Hunter whispers, and he hopes it’s true.

xxx

“I’m home!” Fives comes home not long later, heading to his and Hunters room. He frowns when he sees Omega, curled up to Hunter and crying softly. There’s a bucket beside the bed, and Fives can guess by the smell in the room what it’s for. “Oh baby.” He coos and comes over.

“Fives.” Hunter sighs, smiling tiredly.

“I brought some medicine, juice and doctor papa’s special way to make your tummy feel better.” Fives grins, measuring out the medicine already.

Omega sniffles. “Thanks papa.”

“Of course, now just sip up the medicine, it’s bubblegum.” Fives grins.

Omega takes the spoonful and swallows it, wincing at the fake bubblegum taste. She then sips the juice box her papa hands her.

Hunter smiles as he watches Fives pull his armor off. “You need to teach me your tricks.” He sighs, and snuggles Omega.

“I will.” Fives crawls into the bed. “Ready baby girl?”

Omega gives a small nod.

Fives hums and gently lifts her shirt up to show her tummy. “Papas gonna rub your tummy, then sing a special song. And it’ll make you feel better.” He croons.

“Thanks Papa.” Omega hums, already feeling better having both her parents.

Fives starts rubbing her belly, and sings a little song. “Soft kitty, warm kitty. Little ball of fur. Happy kitty, sleepy kitty. Purr. Purr. Purr.” He sings, smiling when he watches his little girls eyes drift shut. He gently repeats the song until he knows she’s asleep, that’s when he snuggles her between him and Hunter.

“Where did you learn that song?” Hunter asks softly, smiling. “You are such a good papa, I’ll use that trick too now.”

Fives smiles, settling his hand on Hunters bump, feeling their baby’s gentle movements. “When I was a teenager, late teens, not long before I was sent out. I got sick, was allergic to a food brought on Kamino. My stomach hurt so bad and I was throwing up, they wouldn’t let my brothers into the medbay. But the General, Shaak Ti, she came in and she rubbed my belly and sang that song. And force, it helped so much. Ever since then if anyone I know was sick, I’d use it. Would have used it on you but you were lucky and never got morning sickness.” He chuckles softly.

Hunter smiles and moves to kiss him. “You are so sweet, and I’m glad she taught you that. And comforted you.” He curls back into bed. “Honestly, I was getting really overwhelmed.” He admits.

“That’s okay, we’re both still learning love.” Fives smiles.

“Thanks.” Hunter yawns. “I’m going to take a nap, okay?”

“That’s a good idea.” Fives grins and nuzzles Hunter and Omega. “You two sleep, I’ll watch over you.”

Hunter nods, and curls up tightly to Omega and sleeps peacefully, everything is okay now.

Fives hums, and watches over the two most important people in his life. Everything is absolutely perfect.

[aylacavebear]

The Traveler - Chapter 17 - Wonderland Pt. 4

You're from a specific dimension, Solaris Eclipse. It was a dimension of magic. When your kind, the Eldrathiren, turned fifteen, your unique power would awaken within you. Most times, it was something small, levitation, teleportation, creation, elemental manipulation, and things like that. Once in a while, a fifteen-year-old would just disappear, and those were called Travelers. None of them had ever returned. Your parents had told you stories about them, and you hoped that wouldn't happen to you.

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!

Word Count: 2792

Pairing Eventually Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You & Sam Winchester x OC Reader/You

Warnings: Angst - pretty sure that's it - just some tense situations. A/N: Don't think there's anything else in this one. It's fairly relaxed.

A/N: This dimension was suggested by @snowayumi, and I absolutely LOVED how it came out. I hope you all love it as well.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 17 - Wonderland Pt. 4

The Knave led you through the castle to a hallway with hardwood doors adorning either side of it. When he stopped in front of one, he turned, eyeing you suspiciously before finally pushing open the door. You glanced from him to the inside of the room, but when he spoke, he pulled your gaze back to him.

“So we’re clear, Traveler, I don’t trust you, and I’ll be keeping my eye on you,” he told you with utter disdain and distrust. Then, he turned on his heel and went back the way he’d brought you.

The room itself was fairly plain but reminded you of the room you had in the bunker. However, the colors were far different. There was a bed, a desk with an iron chair, a wardrobe, two windows with curtains, with a few floating lamps around the room for a strange lighting effect. The stone almost had a wood grain look to it, and you attributed it to the strangeness of Wonderland. The windows held the same stained glass decorations as the others you’d seen within the castle.

Now, to figure out how to get out of this place.

You went over to the stained glass window on the side of the room opposite the bed, noticing it wasn’t a window but a double door. You turned the handles and pushed them open, revealing a balcony that looked out over the Queen’s garden. The garden was vast, filled with meticulously trimmed hedges, vibrant red roses, and marble statues. The air was cool, with a slight breeze carrying the scent of roses.

As you took in the view, a voice from below startled you, “Psst, down here!” You looked down to see an odd figure, but with how you were connected to Wonderland, you knew him, the White Rabbit, dressed in a waistcoat and holding a pocket watch.

“White Rabbit?” you whispered, your eyes widening in surprise to see him in the Queen’s garden.

“Yes, it’s me,” he replied hurriedly. “We don’t have much time. The Queen’s guard will be patrolling soon. Follow my instructions if you want to get out of here.”

You nodded, your heart racing, “What do I need to do?”

“First, you need to get down to the garden,” the White Rabbit said. “There’s a trellis to your right. Use it to climb down.” You looked over and saw the trellis covered in ivy leading down to the garden. With your bag still over your shoulder, you went to the far side of the balcony, testing the strength of the trellis. It would definitely hold you, so, with a deep breath, you climbed over the railing. As you carefully made your way down, it reminded you of a ladder. Once you reached the ground, the White Rabbit waved you over to a concealed path behind a row of rose bushes.

“Quickly, this way!” he urged, leading you through the maze-like garden. As you ran, you could hear the distant sounds of the Queen’s guards. You weren’t sure if they were searching for you or just out on their patrol.

“Why are you helping me?” you asked, glancing at the White Rabbit as you hurried along the cobblestone path.

“There are many in Wonderland who oppose the Queen’s tyranny,” he explained. “We’ve been watching you since you arrived, and the Chesire told me to come.”

“Thank you,” you replied, only glancing behind you briefly before focusing back upon the White Rabbit and the path ahead.

The White Rabbit led you to a hidden door in the garden wall. “This leads to a secret tunnel. Follow it, and it will take you outside the castle grounds.”

You stepped through the door and found yourself in a dimly lit tunnel. Before you could thank him again, the White Rabbit pressed a small key into your hand. “Keep this. It might come in handy later. Now go, and be careful.” With a final nod, you hurried down the tunnel, the sounds of the castle fading behind you. The tunnel twisted and turned, and after what felt like an eternity, you emerged into the forest outside the castle. The night air was cool and fresh, and you took a moment to catch your breath.

Looking back at the castle, you knew your journey in Wonderland wasn’t finished yet, and all you really wanted was for that familiar scent of your soulmates to pull you back to them. But, for now, you had escaped the Queen’s clutches. And with the White Rabbit’s key in your hand, all you could do was guess at where it might lead you next.

There was no path here for you to follow, so you just made your way further into the forest of those colored trees. Even at night, it was beautiful, but it did mess with your sense of direction. Without being able to see the actual colors of the trees themselves, they looked a lot alike if the hues were near the same shade. It was one of the downsides of seeing in shades of gray. In moments like this, you also wished you had a flashlight, something the brothers had shown you.

You knew you needed sleep. The problem was finding a good place to do that. The further from the castle you got, the more your ears twitched with the sounds of the inhabitants of the forest around you. I wonder if they’re scared of the Queen, too?

As you continued through the pathless forest, you pulled out one of the delightful sweets the Hatter had given you, nibbling on it to soothe your grumbling stomach. You carefully made your way through the plants that grew along the forest floor. A mix of mushrooms, ferns, grasses, and the occasional bundle of flowers. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in a small clearing. The canopy of the trees still covered it, though. It had a strange peacefulness to it, pulling you toward it. You covered your mouth as a yawn left your lips, reminding you of how exhausted you were. The floor of the clearing was covered in a soft moss. That reminded you of a few of the places you’d been to, bringing you a small smile as you lay down on your side. 

With your bag as a makeshift pillow, the pull of sleep was strong, but your mind drifted to the brothers. You were missing them again. It had been odd to sleep alone after having slept in Deann’s arms during your last stay with them. Sleeping alone now, there was a loneliness you weren’t used to. 

The scents of the forest, the quiet sounds of its inhabitants, and the tranquility of the clearing lulled you into a dreamless sleep, relaxing your body into the soft bed of moss. It was a beautiful symphony that blended together, weaving its way through the forest. 

Gentle rays of light barely pierced the canopy above the small clearing, gently dancing across your body. The aromas of the forest tickled at your nose while the sounds of the morning played softly in your ears. Then, your eyes shot open, as you could have sworn you recognized the familiar scent, quickly sitting up and surveying your surroundings. Your heart dropped, though, and you wondered if you had just dreamt it.

But… it was right here…

With a sigh, you got to your feet and slipped your bag over your shoulder. It was so similar to the scent that had been pulling at your soul. You were missing them, even if it had only been a week, or perhaps a little longer, since you’d seen them. As your ears twitched with the sounds of the morning, you decided to head East toward where the sun had risen.

Having no path to follow made traversing the forest interesting, as things seemed to change around you. The shadows still seemed to move on their own, though, and in a way, that worried you. You weren’t frightened of them, but nothing in Wonderland was what it seemed. In the distance, you could have sworn you heard the light movement of water, so continued in that direction, letting your instincts guide you.

Several creatures of the forest perched on the branches of the trees and poked their heads out from the brush or from behind the trees to watch you. You were just as much an oddity to them as they were to you. Some of them you recognized from what the Hatter had told you, others you didn’t, but those moved far too quickly for you to get a good look at them. 

As you continued your journey, you thought of the brothers, but that only brought on an ache within your chest. You really just wanted to go home, see them again, and be surrounded by their scents. You were slowly understanding why you were a Traveler, as you couldn’t imagine never being able to find what it was your soul needed and why you had to traverse different dimensions to find it.

The forest soon began to thin out, and a path became visible. The sound of water had grown louder the closer you got to it, and the scent of salt water drifted in the air. You followed the path until you emerged onto a breathtaking beach. The sand was a pale, golden color, and the waves gently lapped at the shore. The sky was a brilliant blue, with a few fluffy clouds drifting lazily about.

The beach stretched as far as you could see in both directions. To your left, you noticed a cluster of large rocks jutting out into the sea, with tidal pools teaming with small, colorful creatures. To your right, the beach cured around to form a small cove, sheltered by high cliffs.

As you walked along the beach, you noticed various items washed ashore: shells, driftwood, and even a few oddly shaped bottles. You picked up several shells of various shapes and colors, but all were small enough to place into your pouch. You enjoyed the little things of each world you’d visited, and these would help you remember those little details you were going to miss, like the way the Hatter smiled softly when he was endearing.

Your ears twitched at the sounds of the sea and the calls of the strange seabirds in the distance. The air was fresh and salty, a welcome change from the oppressive atmosphere of the Queen’s castle. You’d seen things of the oceans on Earth, and this reminded you of the brothers again.

They’d love this.

The thought brought a soft smile to your lips as you approached the cove. That was when you noticed a figure sitting on a large rock, staring out at the sea. As you got closer, you realized it was someone you recognized, mostly because the Hatter had talked about her a lot. She had long blonde hair and a blue dress. It was Alice.

“Alice?” you called out hesitantly.

She turned, now puzzled, seeing your feline features, “How do you know who I am?” 

“The Hatter told me about you,” you replied, standing at the base of the rocks she was perched on.

Alice climbed off the rocks to stand in front of you, “So, who are you?” she asked, quite curiously.

“I’m a Traveler. I’m honestly just trying to find the scent that led me here so that I can continue on my journey,” you replied, feeling that small pain in your chest again. 

She thought for a moment, then, “Well, I’m not sure if this will help, but there’s a door on the far side of the cove in a cave. It’s locked, and I don’t know where the key is. I think the White Rabbit had it last.”

Your ears perked up at that, “He gave me a key when he helped me escape the Queen’s castle.”

“Wonderful,” Alice replied with a smile, “I don’t know where the door will take you, but at least it’s a way out of Wonderland for you.”

“Thank you, Alice. I wish I could have stayed longer, to get to know you,” you told her softly, then bid her farewell.

You made your way across the beach toward the far side of the cove. The entrance to the cave was partially hidden by a cluster of large boulders and thick vines hanging from the cliffs above. It was dark and foreboding, the air inside cool and damp, with the faint smell of salt and earth. As you stepped inside, the light from the beach quickly faded, replaced by the dim glow of strange fungi that were clinging to the walls, and it was watching you. The cave was filled with the soft, eerie glow of the fungi, casting strange shadows that danced as you moved. The sound of dripping water echoed throughout, creating an unsettling ambiance.

After a short walk, you came upon the door Alice had mentioned. It was an old, wooden door, reinforced with iron bands and a large, silver lock. Oddly enough, there wasn’t a spec of rust on it, as one would think would happen with it being so close to the ocean. The wood was weathered and worn, with strange symbols carved into its surface. You tranced your fingers over the carvings, wishing you knew what they meant, but it was unlike anything you’d seen before.

Without taking your eyes off the door, you pulled the key from your pocket. You had no idea where this door would lead you, but you didn’t want to stay in Wonderland either, not with the Queen after you. With a deep breath, you inserted the key into the lock. It fit perfectly, and with a gentle turn, the lock clicked open. You pushed the door, and it creaked as it swung inward, revealing a dark passageway beyond.

You’d never gone to a different dimension in this particular fashion before, as you’d always followed the scent that had been guiding you. At first, you were hesitant, and all you could do was stare at the open doorway. However, the moment you stepped through the doorway, the scent you’d so desperately missed, tickled your senses. 

A gentle wave of relief washed over you, even when you heard the door close behind you and you walked further down the passageway. There wasn’t much to look at, as the walls were bare of anything living. The passageway led you deeper into what you could only figure was some sort of cave, the air growing cooler while the silence within its walls was oddly comforting. 

I just want to go home.

The scent you’d been following was, again, tickling at your senses. It was faint, though, not as strong as you had hoped it would be. That made you feel like you were far away from them, and in a way, you were. You could feel the anticipation building within you, each step bringing you closer to whatever lay ahead.

As you ventured further, the passageway began to widen, and faint light appeared ahead. You quickened your pace, and soon, you emerged into a vast chamber. The walls were lined with ancient murals, depicting scenes of worlds beyond Wonderland. In the center of the chamber stood another door, this one more ornate and mystical than the last.

You walked over and gently brushed your hand along some of the murals. Some of them were beautiful, completely taking your breath away. While others were dark, twisted places that reminded you of one place you never wanted to return to. One of them even reminded you of your home world, and another reminded you of Earth.

It felt like the scent danced its way around your head, causing you to spin with a small, happy smile. The door felt as though it was beckoning you toward it, as the scent glided along the air, pulling you with it.

Looks like it's time.

With a deep breath, you approached the door and swore for a moment you heard whispers from beyond it too faint to make out. The door slowly swung open when you stood in front of it, although, there was only blackness on the other side. The scent, though, wafted through the open door, stronger than before, bringing a smile to you.

Please, I just want to go home…

One more deep breath, and you stepped through the doorway into the darkness beyond. Your only thoughts were of the brothers and wanting to get back to them. The next thing you heard was the door closing as the blackness began swirling and shifting around you. It was clear, wherever you were, it wasn’t Earth or Wonderland.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 18 - Mechoria pt. 1

Link to the series Masterlist.

A/N: If you'd like to get in on the Dimensional Traveling, go to this link and leave me with a comment, or several, with as much or as little detail about the dimension you'd like the Traveler to end up in. If you'd like to have something specific happen, share that too. I'll make sure that you get credit for the idea you shared in the chapter in which your dimension is featured. I'd love to have as many readers involved as possible. I think this could be a lot of fun.

As always, if you'd like to be tagged, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list. If I missed anyone, please let me know.

Tag List: @littlemadamred @mxltifxnd0m @foxyjwls007 @supernaturalfreakout @roseblue373 @flamencodiva

[littlemourningstarr]

Malady

Sekh is sick, and it's up to Astarion to convince him to rest.

Read below or on AO3!

Pairing: Astarion x Transmasc tav

Part of the Eternally Yours series!

Tags: Transmasc tav, sickfic, fluff, vaginal sex, post game

Astarion roused from his trance to the sound of coughing, from across the house. He frowned, buried his face into his pillow, arm stretching out, and finding an empty bed. He grasped at the sheets, as if by sheer force of will he could make Sekh materialize.

With a tired sigh, Astarion pushed himself up, standing and stretching in their dark bedroom, his joints pleasantly cracking. Unsure how late in the morning it was as the shutters had been perpetually closed and the heavy curtains drawn tightly shut since they moved in, Astarion dressed- just in case Yenna was about.

He opened the bedroom door, heading downstairs slowly, just in case a curtain had been opened to allow the rest of his little family to enjoy sunlight.

The house was blissfully cast in candle light, and Astarion found Yenna sitting in a large chair that he liked for reading, Grub resting by her arm. She had her arms folded. “I was waiting for you to get up.” He looked at her, a bit perplexed- and then heard the coughing fit again, from down below.

In Sekh’s workshop.

Astarion frowned, heading for the hatch and opening it, climbing down into the large basement. It was littered with shelves and tables, filled with various flora from the Underdark that- with a bit of tender love and care- seemed to be willing to thrive in the dark, even on the surface.

Sekh was sitting at his work table, his hair tossed up in a messy bun atop his head. He was slouched slightly, leaning over, working on something, still dressed in whatever clothes he had thrown on after waking. The larger, oversized cardigan was one Astarion had been forced to mend a few times now, thanks to some slight spills with concoctions that were just a bit acidic.

Before Astarion could get lost in watching the drow work, Sekh’s shoulders shook as he coughed. His hand left the table, moving to presumably cover his mouth, stifle the noise.

Astarion frowned, walking over, pausing just behind him. “You’re sick.”

Sekh jumped, looking up at him, having not heard Astarion’s silent footsteps. His cheeks had quite the flush to them, his eyes a bit glossy.

“I’m fine,” he said, but his voice was a rasp. He winced upon hearing it, knowing he sounded anything but.

Astarion clicked his tongue in annoyance. “I warned you last night, but you just had to stay out in that rain. It was frigid!” Astarion dragged his fingers along Sekh’s cheek, the heat beyond anything he had ever felt on the drow, even in the throes of the most intense passion.

Sekh’s eyelids fluttered over Astarion’s cool touch.

“You should be in bed.”

“Too much to do,” Sekh whispered, as Astarion moved to brush a few wild, free strands of hair from his forehead. “And the society is expecting me shortly. I need to finish, get dressed-'' he cut off to cough again, covering his mouth and shaking with the sheer force.

“Oh like hells are you leaving this house.” Once Sekh’s coughing stopped, Astarion nearly hoisted him up from his chair. Sekh complained loudly, but the vampire ignored him, taking his hand and leading him back towards the ladder to the main level. “Yenna!” Astarion called as he climbed up, Sekh following- which was good, because Astarion knew he couldn’t physically drag the drow up alone.

The girl hopped out of the chair she still inhabited, as Astarion pulled himself out of the hatch and turned, helping Sekh out as well. Even through his sweater, Astarion could feel his feverish heat.

“Would you be a dear and go visit Blurg and let him know Sekh will not be leaving the house today.” Sekh frowned, folded his arms- a childish pout at being ordered around. Astarion ignored it for the moment. “And perhaps ask if he may have anything for his fever.”

“Leave it to me!” The girl was running for the door before Astarion could do more, her cat jumping and following her. She was always eager to visit the Society anyway- being sent over on her own probably felt like a treat.

“And you,” Astarion said, turning to Sekh, “back to bed.”

“Astarion-”

“Sekh.”

“Starshine-”

“Sekh’met.” Astarion folded his arms, and the drow sighed, bowing his head. The fact that his stubbornness didn’t push the argument further was proof enough that he must have felt wretched.

“Let me get my notes at least,” Sekh asked, “I can read from bed.”

Astarion’s look softened, and he gently guided Sekh away from the still open hatch. “I’ll get them,” he said, not moving until Sekh was halfway up the stairs, calling back that he needed the notes on Bulbfruits specifically.

While Astarion had no real interest in whatever grew in the Underdark- he didn’t need his lover to specify. He knew exactly what Sekh was studying currently- he’d been at the Society of Brilliance’s Lodge more nights than he can count as the drow fervently discussed the flora. This had been the most recent topic for a month now.

Astarion let himself back down to the basement and over to Sekh’s desk. It was littered with open journals, loose papers in the drow’s scrawling, sketchy handwriting. Possibly the worst Astarion had ever seen.

It made him smile.

Astarion picked up a few, setting them aside when he was able to determine they were not on the correct weed. He set them neatly in a pile, thinking that perhaps if Sekh were to get some rest maybe he could sneak back down here and tidy up- just a bit.

He ended up with one of the journals and a few loose scraps of paper. He made his way back up the ladder, closing the hatch, and then up to their bedroom. Sekh had lit his bedside lamp, had shed his large cardigan and was working a brush through his now free, still tangled hair.

It had grown so much over the past eight months, since the Brain- and hadn’t been dyed in the last two, since they had been reunited with their companions. All of the pink had faded, leaving only Sekh’s natural ginger.

Astarion preferred it like this, but he never said so. He knew Sekh’s hair dying was sentimental, and he wouldn’t take that away from the drow.

Sekh set his hair brush down, happily taking the reading materials from Astarion. The vampire crawled onto the bed, settling next to Sekh and taking up the brush, working it through his thick, silken hair. The drow opened the journal, quietly reading to himself.

When Astarion was satisfied that the tangles were all removed, he gathered up Sekh’s hair, began braiding it slowly. Sekh glanced at him, a little smile crawling onto his flushed face. Astarion caught it and returned the smile, leaning forward and kissing his warm cheek, as he tied off the braid.

Astarion slid his arms around Sekh, happy to soak up his feverish heat, as the drow went back to reading silently. It wasn’t long before Astarion could hear the door opening, and Yenna’s quick footsteps running up the stairs.

She was getting lighter on her feet- Astarion was rather proud of that. He’d been spending time with her in the evenings, teaching her all of the fun ways to sneak around, the showiest ways to twirl a dagger. She would never be defenseless again.

She burst in, arms full of a very large tome and a few small pouches, spilling the contents on the bed, and nearly losing her footing. Before Astarion could reach out to brace her she was back properly on her feet, grabbing one of the pouches and passing it to Sekh.

“Blurg said this will make you feel right as rain,” she announced proudly, “in a few days,” she added, and Sekh groaned. He flopped back onto his pillows, and Astarion rolled his eyes.

“So dramatic,” he mumbled, taking the pouch and pulling the bottle from it. Sekh glanced at him, his face screaming really- as if Astarion had the right to call anyone dramatic.

“He said it’ll help you rest and with the fever.” Sekh blindly reached for the pouch Astarion had discarded, not sitting up as he fished out a small, hand written note. The vampire assumed it listed whatever was in this and how to take it.

He trusted the Hobgoblin and his Mindflayer to not poison Sekh. Strange company as they were, Astarion knew they had become some of Sekh’s closest friends.

“Blurg said it’s really gross though,” Yenna pointed out, tossing one of the other, much smaller pouches onto Sekh. It landed on his belly, and whatever could possibly be inside must have excited the drow, because he shot back up into a sitting position-

So fast that he reached up for his head, as if he’d made himself dizzy. Astarion reached over and rubbed his back soothingly, as Sekh opened the pouch and shook out a small, round, red speckled candy.

With a grin large enough to split his cheeks, he popped it into his mouth. Astarion had only ever tasted them second hand- from Sekh’s still sticky lips in countless fervent kisses- but they were sweet as honey, with a spice that he imagined could burn open the drow’s airways.

The Hobgoblin made them, whatever spice coming from some plant in the Underdark. Astarion knew Sekh had recognized it immediately, but he could never for the life or death of him remember the name.

Yenna had another small pouch, presumably of her own, which she tucked into her pocket.  “He said if you’re feeling okay and bored this book should keep you busy.” Sekh gathered up the large, well worn tome before Astarion could, opening it and leaving it on his lap. The vampire knew he’d have to wrestle it away from his lover soon if he wanted Sekh to actually get some rest.

“Thank you, Yenna,” Sekh said, “I’d hug you but I do not want to get you sick. Wait…” he glanced at Astarion, “Can I get you sick?”

The alarm in his voice was cute.

Astarion waved him off. “No darling, you can’t.” Whatever virus the drow had wouldn’t have anything to take root in within Astarion. He only ever worried about sickness in someone’s blood.

Astarion climbed out of the bed, guiding Yenna from the room. He did echo Sekh’s concern about not wanting to get the girl sick. He could argue that he didn’t want to have to play nursemaid to two people- but in reality, he was fairly sure his chest would crack in half if he heard Yenna so much as cough painfully once.

Good thing Yenna always had plenty to entertain her outside the house. Most days if she wasn’t with Sekh down in his little mad alchemist lab she was running about the city, Grub in tow. She’d made friends, Astarion knew- and he was proud of her for it. Granted, the little thing had never been shy, she’d proven that when she’d first approached Sekh, a gods damned drow, whom she had never met in her life, when they’d first arrived at Wyrms’ Crossing so many months ago.

“Make sure you’re at the Elfsong before dark,” Astarion advised, “I’ll come walk you home.”

“I could walk myself home,” Yenna pointed out, and yes, yes she could, and Astarion was sure that if anyone gave her trouble she’d give them twice the trouble back-

But he and Sekh weren’t willing to risk it. She was still a child, and any city after dark wasn’t a place for a child to be alone.

“You know,” Yenna added, as Astarion tried to tidy her hair a bit. It was getting quite long, but still shaggy. She had a few small braids scattered throughout the mess that he had painstakingly done. She wasn’t one for frills of any sorts, but she’d indulged him. “If we file my teeth to look like yours, no one would bother me.”

“And out with you,” Astarion said, face scrunched in mock annoyance as he pushed her towards the door. She laughed, before turning and wrapping her arms around him. Astarion dropped the annoyed act, lifting her up and spinning her once, just to hear her laugh into his chest. “Whatever you do, just remember-”

“Don’t get caught,” Yenna finished, as Astarion let her down. He grinned and waved her off, and she was out the door so quickly Astarion barely saw a flash of the sunlight, outside.

Astarion went back upstairs, found Sekh exactly where he had left him, flipping a page in the large tome. The medicine Blurg had provided was definitely untouched, next to him. He glanced up as Astarion leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms- and his stare was enough. With a sheepish look- and Astarion would never, ever tell Sekh how utterly precious it was- Sekh picked up the bottle and opened it, downing a mouthful. His candy was already long gone.

He made a face, closing the bottle and setting it on his bedside table. “As bad as whatever Omeluum had you drink in the Underdark?” Astarion asked as he crossed the room.

“Gods no, nothing will ever be worse than that.” Astarion settled down next to him, reached out to brush his hand along Sekh’s forehead. He felt even warmer than he had earlier. Astarion frowned, but Sekh leaned into his touch, ginger lashes fluttering as his eyes shut, enjoying how cool the vampire was in comparison to him. “You feel nice.”

Astarion chuckled, pulled his hand back just to tuck it behind Sekh’s neck, under his hair. He shivered, and Astarion leaned in, brushed his chilled lips against Sekh’s flushed cheek.

“I feel like I’m on fire,” Sekh admitted, turning, eyes flicking to Astarion’s lips. The vampire knew the look well- the same look Sekh gave him anytime the drow wanted to kiss him, but found some- typically quite worthless- reason not to.

Astarion pressed a slow kiss to his mouth. His lips felt like burning flowers, silken but so hot. Sekh sighed against him, one hand fisting in Astarion’s shirt. The vampire traced his tongue along the seam of Sekh’s lips, and when the drow sighed, pushed his way in.

He could taste the ghost of the candy, that familiar honey and spice that he was coming to equate to Sekh. But over it was the bitter, herbal flavor of the medicine, a heavy, almost dirt like taste.

“You taste awful,” Astarion mumbled, even as he stole another kiss. Sekh pulled back, laughing so hard that he had to cover his mouth as it dissolved into a coughing fit.

“You still kissed me,” he pointed out, once he could speak again. Astarion hummed in response, reached for the tome in Sekh’s lap and shut the book. For a moment the vampire thought Sekh might fight him on it- but the rebellious look was fleeting, and Sekh let Astarion heft the book over to his bedside table.

Astarion pulled the blanket back, and fought down a bemused smile as Sekh tugged his shirt off and tossed it away, flopping down onto the sheets and reaching for his pants.

“I’m too hot,” he mumbled, catching Astarion staring. The elf would be the last to ever complain about Sekh stripping of his clothing. Instead he reached out, dragged his fingers along Sekh’s bare stomach, along his navel, pausing at his pelvis. Sekh gasped, arched into the touch, before he reached up, covered his own mouth with his hand, shocked at the reaction himself.

Well.

“I can cool you off,” Astarion offered, working quite hard to keep his voice tender and not suggestive. Sekh didn’t even hesitate at the suggestion, squirming out of his remaining clothing and asking, skin to skin?

Astarion climbed out of bed to strip properly, leaving his clothing folded on the floor. When he crawled back into bed, he reached for Sekh, pulled the drow’s back flush to his chest, stretched out across his body. Sekh squirmed, sighing, as Astarion’s arm hooked around him, hand splayed on his belly.

He burned hotter than the hells, against Astarion. A heat unlike anything Astarion had felt. He’d be alarmed if Sekh didn’t seem to be functioning so well and already medicated. Astarion leaned down, nuzzled into his neck, dragged lazy kisses along his pulse.

Sekh squirmed, little breaths escaping him, and Astarion’s hand slid lower along his belly, without thought. He caught himself as his fingers grazed the soft skin of Sekh’s mound, instantly moving his hand to Sekh’s hip.

“Sorry darling,” he mumbled, almost embarrassed that he’d fallen into wanting to touch so quickly.

But Sekh just reached for the hand on his hip, squeezed Astarion’s fingers and whispered in a slightly hoarse voice, “Would you?” He guided Astarion’s hand back, slid it over his mound, and Astarion could feel the twitch in the drow’s hips, wanting to grind against his hand.

And oh, who was he to ever deny his drow?

Astarion slid his fingers along Sekh’s lips, past them, groaned because still he burned even hotter. He teased his clit slowly, felt his lover shiver against him. “Love,” Sekh breathed, and Astarion kissed at his pulse again, murmured sweet little nothings that rang far too true in his heart. His touches were slow, teasing circles, knowing exactly how to slowly bring Sekh up to an ecstatic high.

Sekh continued to squirm, to grind against his hand. Astarion couldn’t stop the way his hips canted against his lover’s plush ass, his own cock stirring over the heat, over Sekh’s little breaths, over knowing he was the cause of even just a moment of bliss for this man.

Astarion slid his fingers off Sekh’s clit, got a frustrated little groan that turned into a needy whine as his finger teased at his entrance. He didn’t push inside- as much as he wanted to- simply dragged the wetness he found back up to Sekh’s hard clit, sliding over it again and again and again now.

Sekh tipped his head back, grinding against Astarion’s fingers. The vampire could tell he was so close already- knew every little tick of his desires, his body. He moved to Sekh’s ear, whispered, “can you come for me?” and the drow arched, cried out his name, shaking as his orgasm wracked his body.

Oh, Astarion it would delight for eternity that he could speak this man into euphoria.

His touches slowed but didn’t stop, easing Sekh through his orgasm. The drow writhed, creating a delicious friction against Astarion’s now fully hard cock. The vampire jerked his hips against him, bit back a growl, tried to tell himself to take a breath, to relax.

This wasn’t about him. Not this time.

Yet as Sekh began to calm, he purposely pushed back against Astarion, making the thought feel fleeting. The vampire pressed his face into Sekh’s hair, inhaled a shaking breath. “It’ll pass,” he mumbled, knowing Sekh was all too aware of his aching cock.

Sekh hummed softly. “It doesn’t have to…”

“Sekh.” The drow craned his neck to catch Astarion’s eyes, gave him one of his dazzling smiles that always stopped Astarion’s undead heart, made his belly cramp up with how much love could be visible in just a single curl of the man’s lips.

“I want you to,” Sekh said, adding, “if you want to.”

Astarion bit his own lip, fangs poking against tender flesh. Because gods he did want it, he wanted to be locked inside this man every waking second of eternity. And just knowing he was wanted, endlessly-

Astarion grasped at Sekh’s thigh. “Hook your leg up over me darling,” he murmured. Sekh did as he was asked, his leg hooking up over Astarion’s hip. Astarion grasped his own cock, teased himself along Sekh’s slit, loved the little breath that rushed out of Sekh. He smiled to himself, before easing in slowly.

Sekh’s body was hotter than it had ever been, a sheer inferno that had Astarion’s mind going white hot blank. He groaned, buried himself into his lover far quicker than he meant to, felt his stomach knotting up in a warning that this wouldn’t last.

Sekh shuddered, reaching across the bed to grasp at the sheets, squirming and writing against Astarion, a silent plea for him to move, to stroke each nerve inside his body. Astarion moved his hand back to Sekh’s cunt, two fingers siding around his clit, jerking at the hardened bud to match each desperate thrust he gave him.

Sekh’s mouth fell open, little cries and mewls spilling into the air. He was panting within seconds, pushing himself back to meet each of Astarion’s thrusts. The vampire growled, got his mouth on the crook of Sekh’s shoulder, teeth holding him, but not breaking skin.

The drow shuddered, started whining bite me, over and over again, as Astarion thrust into him with abandon. Gods he’d meant to be softer, but Sekh was making it impossible.

“No,” Astarion breathed, as much as he wanted to. The feeling of Sekh’s skin breaking for his fangs, the trickle of his sweet blood along Astarion’s tongue, always took their love making to a level Astarion didn’t know was possible, had never been able to fathom before Sekh.

But he wasn’t out of his mind enough to think biting Sekh was a good idea while the man was ill.

Sekh groaned, but didn’t push further. Instead he tried to tighten his leg draped over Astarion, to pull him deeper.

Astarion moaned, the sound followed by a full body shudder from Sekh, over it. Astarion was so close, he could feel his muscles coiling into knots, his stomach tight, his balls fucking aching. Gods damned,it felt nearly pathetic, he’d barely been inside his drow, but, but-

Sekh could undo him in seconds.

He switched his movements to quick strokes of Sekh’s clit, refusing to take his own bliss without the drow joining him. Sekh whined, turned his head and bit at the pillow, muffling his little noises as Astarion felt his body clenching around him, right on the edge-

It was Astarion, moaning his name, unabashed and adoring, that sent him over the edge. That sent Sekh into a second, sobbing orgasm, his leg tightening on Astarion, pulling him impossibly deep.

With a relieved groan, smiling, Astarion let himself come, staying nestled into Sekh’s fever hot body, as the drow’s waning orgasm milked him fucking dry. It was moments of pure, unadulterated heaven.

And then Sekh was relaxing against him. Astarion moved his hand so his arm could lock around his partner and nuzzled into his neck, peppering soft, affectionate kisses along his skin. He felt slightly less warm, somehow- and Astarion hoped the medicine was helping.

Astarion stayed inside Sekh until the drow squirmed, finally pulling away. The room’s air felt frigid compared to his heat, but Astarion bit back any complaints, as Sekh rolled onto his back, looked up at him with drowsy eyes. “Tired?” Astarion asked, and Sekh nodded. Without even a moment of thought, Astarion was climbing out of bed, taking a few moments to clean up the mess he’d left on his pretty darling.

Normally he’d be more than happy to slide between Sekh’s legs and lick him clean, but he didn’t want to push the man. He needed to rest.

Once done, he crawled back into bed, and Sekh pushed up against him, wrapped his arms around him and settled just below his chin. “You don’t have to stay,” he whispered, even as he held tightly to Astarion.

The vampire chuckled. “I don’t believe I could move if I wanted to now, pet.” He paused, before adding, “Not that I want to. To be clear. I don’t.”

Sekh laughed, but it was a slow, half asleep sound. He was fading fast. Astarion kissed the top of his head gently, fingers tracing along his damp spine.

“Sweet dreams, my love,” he whispered, intent that when Sekh awoke, he’d be the first thing he saw.

[his-red-right-hand]

his red right hand, Chapter 3

You slept through the night, a rarity, awoke with the idea of breakfast entirely unappealing, a very common occurrence. You were also, however, not immune to judgy nurse face, so you choked down about three spoonfuls of the bland oatmeal before just poking the rest of it with your spoon as you were told how to care for your wound.

Dressing changes, antibiotics to be taken with food (blergh), don’t get it wet, cover when showering, stitches out in two weeks, any redness or warmth in the area come to urgent care. You paid less attention to the instructions for the pain meds they were going to give you, you had a different idea of how to numb the pain. Whilst the fuzzy headed sensation had been kind of nice at first, it was letting your thoughts drift a little too freely for your comfort. The fact that your weed guy worked at a restaurant three doors down from your job, and made the best damn burger you had ever tasted in your life was just a bonus.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl and slip by at light speed at alternate measures as your anticipation of going home built. Back into your own clothes, not constantly being watched so you could just ease yourself back into that comfortable little pit of despair that was your life. The sooner to see if his promise would be kept and he’d come and kill you soon. Better you than all the other poor souls out there. At least you wanted it.

A different nurse came by, the clothes you’d been brought into the hospital folded in their arms, an apologetic smile on their face as they explained your tank top had been cut off you in surgery, but everything else was in wearable condition, the police forensic guys had swabbed what they’d needed from it all. The thought of them going over your clothes made something twist uncomfortably in your gut. But you were able to get out of bed under your own power, the nurse disconnecting you from your iv’s, pulling the curtains around the bed and standing outside them at your request, but demanding that you call out if you had any difficulty getting dressed.

It was slow and a little painful, more than difficult. Wiggling your left arm into the sleeve of your flannel in a way to try and actually get the damn thing on without pulling overmuch at your stitches. Your tights had big ladders at the knees now, but you didn’t have anything else and like fuck were you putting your Doc’s on barefoot, so that was another ordeal. You looked like you were having the walk of shame from hell, the side of your flannel stained with your blood, that was going to be a bitch to try and get out, but you were dressed.

Apparently a Deputy was coming by to give you a lift home. Great.

You refused a wheelchair to get to the entrance of the hospital, walking didn’t pull too much at anything, the worst of it really was your legs not wanting to work after being confined to bed. It wasn’t even that long, you spent longer lying in bed staring at the wall on your days off, but then again you don’t normally get stabbed on your days off.

Deputy Riley was young and had a mildly questionable moustache, friendly but quick enough to get the hint that you didn’t want to talk as he drove you home. You were looking forward to being able to wallow unobserved once again; let the weight of it all wash over you and crush you down. People around meant having to pretend you could carry the weight of it, and who had the energy for that?

Ten awkward minutes later he pulled up outside your crappy house, the scrap of the front yard overgrown with weeds. Deputy Riley scrambled out of the car to open the back door for you, and you managed to get out of the vehicle under your own power, even if it did take a little bit of swearing. “Uh, thanks for the ride. I got it from here.”

“Happy to serve ma’am. Just remember we’re only a phone call away if you need anything.” Oh, that was painfully earnest.

“I’ll - ah - keep that in mind.” Walking along the path to your front door, you fumbled with your keys for a moment before opening the door, stepping inside, and leaning against the door after you closed it, shielding you from Deputy Riley’s watching eyes. Home sweet fucking home.

Just the same mess as you left it.

You needed a shower. You smelt of hospital and dried blood and sweat. You unbuttoned your bloody shirt, a quick check to make sure that the kitchen blinds were still closed from when you left - just to make sure you weren’t about to flash the whole neighbourhood - and then stepped forward to drop it in front of the laundry room door.

The little blinking light on your answer machine caught your eye from its place on the little half wall that divided the kitchen from the rest of the main living space. Not that it was much of a space. Well, chances were about 50/50 between telemarketers and someone actually caring enough to call you. No, wait, make that 70/30, you did your stabbing recovery on your two sweet, precious days off from work.

That could be investigated once you felt clean again, the chances of it being actually important were pretty fucking low. Leaning against the wall as you unlaced your boots, grumbling to yourself the whole awkward process, kicking them off with a satisfying thunk you proceeded to get naked. Now time to hunt through your kitchen drawers for the cling wrap and medical tape you knew had to be in there somewhere.

One shower later, feeling much better for it, even if you did almost kill yourself slipping on the way out. You wanted to die, but that would just be a fucking embarrassing way to go. Wrapped in a towel, you hit play on the answer machine as you wandered to your bedroom, digging through the pile of dubiously clean clothes to find a too big tee to pull on, score, found one of your Alice in Chains shirts. First message was from Piper, another one of your friends from the party, asking you to call her once you were back from the hospital, and she hoped you didn’t die. Well, that was one of you.

Next message started as you perched on your couch, opening the box there with your papers, grinder and weed. It was Devin, your manager at work, wishing you a speedy recovery and to call him, he’d sort out all the time off you needed. Fuck, you should probably call him back before you got stoned.

Last message, Sarah reminding you to call her once you were home. She at least wouldn’t begrudge you getting high first.

Joint rolled, you picked up the phone, perching on the arm of your couch as you dialled your job. Fingers twined through the cord as it rang, one, twice, then ”Roseville Books, how can I help?” A bit of relief eased through your veins as you heard Devin’s voice, at least you weren’t going to have to answer any co-worker questions until you were there in person.

“Hey Devin-”

“Holy shit, are you alright?” Concern was laced through his voice, Dad vibes coming on strong.

“Yeah, I’m home, I’m okay, asking you to please put me on the schedule this week.”

“What? Are you sure? Because if it’s a money thing, we can work something out-”

“It’s a not going completely insane at home thing. Like, I probably shouldn’t lift anything heavy, but I can work a till, answer the phone, and deal with customers. Please...” Part of you wanted nothing more than to take the opportunity to stay at home, just lie in bed and do nothing. But you also knew that if you did that, you would never get out of bed again, the weight of all you kept inside finally crushing you.

“I... You can come in tomorrow, a half day, 11 until 3, we’ll see how you go. But any problems, I’m sending you home, okay?”

“Yessir,” you responded dryly.

“Now go get a good night’s sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow Devin, bye.”

He said his goodbyes as you hung up the phone, letting out a long sigh. You stood up with a soft groan, padding over to vinyl collection, flicking through a few albums, you must’ve been really stoned last time you went through these because a bunch of them were out of order, before settling for The Cranberries, taking the time to set up the record player and start that playing, the ritual of running the dusting block over the spinning record before dropping the needle always calming to your mind. Picking up the joint and your lighter, opening the french doors at the back of your house, stepping out and settling into the chair you had out there, taking a moment to stare into the dense woods at the back of the property. Damn, it’d be nice to walk out into them and just disappear.

Lighting up, you took some time to let the music just wash over you as you smoked. Much like everything else, it wasn’t that your side didn’t hurt any more, it just made it so you didn’t care about it. You didn’t really care about anything other than the music curling through your brain. You stayed out there, gently tapping ash off into your ashtray there, trying so hard not to think about what had happened to you two nights ago. The weed helped dull the intensity of your recollections, but did nothing to stop the ache thinking about him caused, the ache that wasn’t in any of the wounds he gave you.

The soft hissing of side A ending shook you from your thoughts, getting up from your chair, stumping out what little remained of your joint, leaving the roach in the ashtray; and going back inside. Lifting the needle arm, you flipped the record, letting side B start playing. Part of you wanted to go and lie down on your bed, but you knew where that would end; and you were not masturbating to a fucking serial killer, no matter how intensely intimate your encounter with him was. No matter how you ached from it. There were three fucking dead bodies there with the two of you, and he didn’t even have the fucking courtesy of adding you to that total. Even after he made you beg.

Remembering begging for him made the ache worse.

Fuck.

Movies! You had some rentals here from blockbuster. Stoned horror time, sounded great! You even had some jiffy-pop in a cupboard somewhere, so if the munchies kicked in you were sorted.

Looking around you could find The Evil Dead, you could’ve sworn you had rented a copy of Silence of the Lambs as well, but then again maybe serial killers weren’t the best thing to watch right now. You slotted the tape into the VHS player, turning off your music and putting the album away. Fuck, you still had to call Sarah and Piper. It was less effort to try and do it now then it would be to get reamed out by them for not doing it.

Picking up the phone from its cradle, you dialled Sarah first, waiting for a few rings before it went to her answerphone. She must still be at work. “Hey Sarah, you said to ring when I got home, so... I’m stoned and gonna watch some horror movies, so you know I’m doing okay. Talk later.” You hit the button in the cradle to hang up, quickly dialling Piper, who unfortunately for you actually picked up, but your conversation with her went over mostly the same gist, along with a few reassurances that you were okay. Hanging the phone back up after some quick goodbyes, you briefly considered the business card you had with Jed’s phone number on it. What the fuck would you even say to him? You could barely keep up with the friends you had at the moment, you didn’t have the time or energy to make a new one, even if you had felt a spark of a connection with him.

No, it was time for some ridiculous melting makeup fun.

You negotiated laying yourself down on your couch, having to move your cushions to the other end. Next time you got stabbed you’d have to request it not to be on your comfy side. Stupid murderers with strong thighs that you wanted to grind against- No, watch young adults get murdered in a cabin in the woods, no thinking about him. You were probably never going to see him again anyway, so there was no point. And no matter how fucked up your fantasies normally got, you had to draw the line at fucking yourself to thoughts of an actual murderer who had killed actual people.

Even if you do wish he had fucked you up against that wall before he stabbed you.

Scrubbing your hand over your face, you tried to focus on Bruce Campbell making poor life choices as evil spirits lurked in the woods.

[galaxycevans]

my savior x curtis everett

After a hard battle with the guards, to have more protein blocks, she had to heal those who were injured. One particularly draws her attention. The one with the beanie… She approaches him.

“I wanna help you, may I?” He lifts his head. His blue eyes catch her attention.

“Sure…” He lifts his shirt covered with blood, she looks at his wounds. “Hmmm, it’ll be okay… It’s not deep… I’m gonna disinfect the wounds.” She soaks the cotton with alcohol and passes it over his wounds, he winces and grabs her leg. “I’m sorry… It won’t be long.” She continues to pass the cotton over his wounds. “Can you take off your shirt? I want to put a bandage around your waist. Please…”

He releases his hand off her leg and takes off his shirt. She puts the bandage around his waist, slowly to avoid the pain, she cuts the limit of the bandage and fixes it. “There you go… I’ll come back to see if it’s better. You should get some rest...” She stands up and starts to walk away but he grabs her wrist. 

“Thank you…” He smiles lightly and rubs her hand. She smiles and nods to him. She goes to take care of the others injured. A few hours later, she came back and went to her bed. She climbed the little ladder but her foot slipped and she fell. The guy who was next to the beanie guy sits up on his bed. “Are you okay ?” 

“Yeah, sorry…” She rubs her forehead and this guy hands out. She takes his hand and he lifts her. “I’m Edgar…Nice to meet you. I didn’t see you before…” 

“I’m y/n. I’m very discreet but for saving people, I’m not so far…” She chuckles. “I was gonna sleep but I don’t have the energy anymore…This was a long day to help every injured person, but now, they will be healed soon.”  

“Thanks to you…” Edgar smiles and she blushes. “Edgar! Leave her alone!” The beanie guy comes next to you and Edgar. “I’m sorry about his behavior…” 

“That’s alright, don’t worry…” She waves. 

“Don’t do it again Edgar. Now go!” 

“Sorry Curtis…” 

“He won’t bother you anymore…” 

“Oh, that’s alright. How are your wounds?” 

“They’re fine, thanks to you…” He smiles lightly. “I will help you.” 

“Oh, I don’t wanna disturb you.”

 He picks her up and puts her on his bed. 

“You can sleep on my bed tonight. I’ll take yours.” 

“Oh, that’s sweet of you. I mean it. Thank you…” 

Guards come and start to hit metal bars. “Everyone up! Come on quick!” 

“Stay down!” He whispers and lies on her, covering her from the guards. He was warm, and his eyes were keeping an eye on her. She didn’t feel that before, protection. She was always on her own.

The guards check every bed and open the curtains from Curtis's bed. They pass his bed and go to the front. 

“They’re gone Curtis” Edgar whispers. 

He sits up and lets her sit on his bed. “You okay?” He puts a hand on her back.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” She stands up and looks at him. “Thank you, Curtis…” She blushes. 

“I just saved your life. I don’t want them to hit you” He scratches his beanie.

She smiles one last time and goes to see Tanya and Timmy.

***

Hours later, the guards call everyone in the section for checking. They all sat down one by one, Curtis was the only one who still stood up. 

“Sit down!” The guard warns him.

“Curtis, sit down…” Edgar whispers and y/n looks at Curtis. 

“SIT DOWN!” The guard points his gun at Curtis. y/n stands up. 

“This man is injured, let me help him…” 

“You better shut up and both sit down.” The guard approaches them with the gun pointed at her. “Don’t let me warn you again…” 

They both sit down, and the guard goes back with the other guard. “Protein blocks are ready. Come and get it” 

Everyone takes their protein blocks and the guard grabs her wrist when it was the turn of y/n. “No protein block for you. Go.”

“Are you serious? I need to eat.” 

“Sorry lady, no protein block for you.” She scoffs and goes away from the guard. She storms to her bed. She climbs it and closes the curtain. 

A few minutes later, Curtis didn’t see y/n at all of the afternoon, he goes in front of her bed. She was cuddling herself, putting her head on her knees. He can see her because she had turned the light on. 

“y/n?” She lifts her head but doesn’t open the curtain. “I have a protein block for you…” 

She doesn't answer. “Look, if you don’t eat. I will force you to eat it, and I don’t wanna do that to you.” 

She opens the curtain and looks at him. She cried, her eyes were red. 

“Here for you.” He hands out the protein block. 

“Thank you…” She smiles weakly. He climbs on her bed and sits next to her. She takes a small bite of her protein block. She always found that awful, like all the passengers on this train. He rubs her arm and smiles at her. 

“You know,  I may be a little scared but you can talk to me if you need.” He puts his hand on her thigh. 

“Thank you…” She lifts her head and a tear rolls down her cheek. She wipes her tears away with her thumb. 

“y/n y/l/n?” A guard comes towards her.

“Yes?” 

“You have to follow me to the front section.” 

“Why? I’m okay here. I don’t see why I should go in the front section…” 

“You have to follow me. That’s an order.” 

“I won’t go anywhere.” She climbs down off her bed. “If you think I’m gonna go you can fuck your-” She couldn’t finish her sentence when the guard knocked her head with his rifle. She collapses on the floor.

“Hey back off, bastard !!!” Curtis punches the guard and pushes him against the wall, everyone tries to lift y/n. “If you touch her again, I’m gonna kick your ass!  And this time I won’t be alone…” His eyes darken. “Now, get out of here!” He pushes the guard away. Curtis turns around and sees y/n injured in the head. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s just a scratch, don't worry.” She walks away from him. She sits down and tries to cover her wound but the pain can’t allow her to put the bandage on her. He sits next to her and starts to put his hand on her forehead but she holds his hand. “Let me help you y/n. Please.” She drops her hand and lets him do the bandage. He cleans her wound, and she winces and clutches her hand. “Sorry, I’ll be quick.” He cleans and puts the bandage on her forehead. “Done.” She looked down, he lifted her head with his hand on her chin. “You’re gonna be okay, I promise.” 

“Thank you…” She hugs him. He raises his hands, surprised by her action. He hugs her back. She sobs into his chest, he didn’t know this part of her. She always had her shell, but now she just feels safe with him. “But I don’t want you to be killed by these bastards.” She mutters. 

“Don’t worry. They won’t do anything.” He puts his hands on her cheeks and kisses her cheek. 

“y/n?” She looks behind Curtis, all the passengers were here to support her, same as Edgar, Tanya, and Gilliam. “They won’t touch you anymore. You’re our hope y/n.” Tanya expresses to her. She chuckles and lets her tears fall. “FOR Y/N!” Tanya raises her fist in the air. 

“FOR Y/N!” Everyone raises their fist in the air. She thought she would be alone but she was wrong. Everyone was tired of Wilford, it was time to revolt. Curtis whispers “For you.” 

She giggles. He puts his hand on her cheeks. She didn’t expect that he’ll kiss her, she was surprised but she wraps her arms around his neck. Everyone is happy to see them together. For her, he was her savior and for him, she was everything. They’ll fight together, whatever it takes.

[hapan-in-exile]

Volume 1 - Post #9: The Interrogation

Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic

Genre: Mandalorian x Fem Reader

Total word count: 3.2K (of 25K total in Volume 1)

Rating: Explicit - smut, language, +18 *NSFW*

______________________________________________

IX. “Nito,” you emerge at the top of the ladder, holding the kid aloft, and call into the cockpit with the sweetest voice imaginable. “Will you keep an eye on the kiddo for me?”

“While you tend to our dear captain?” The Ardennian asks over his shoulder. “Tell him I’m not taking orders until I get paid.”

“It’s not an order, Nito,” you groan impatiently. “I’m asking you for help.” 

He leaps into the vestibule like the swing of a pendulum and snatches up the child between his lower limbs. “Ok, little man. You wanna learn how to install an R3 processor?”

“Can there at least be a truce until everyone’s properly rested?” You mutter into your palms. There is, frankly, an excess of testosterone on this ship. The kids included.

“Fine. But come back up here when you’re done, ok?” Nito whines. “I’m gonna have to sit here the whole flight to make sure we don’t die of radiation poisoning.”

“Of course! I will happily support you in that endeavor.”

“Radiation is the silent killer, Thuli,” he says, deadpan. “Bring some cards with you.”

Climbing down the ladder, you head back for the sleeping compartment. “Oh shit! Sorry, Mando.” 

Your cheeks flush spectacularly when you step through a gap in the drop cloth curtain and walk in on him, releasing the clasp of his belt. Unconcerned, he tugs the leather from his waist, drawing the bandolier over his helmet and tossing it onto your bed. 

“Oh. I, um, need to–”

No longer capable of formulating complete sentences, you merely point to the first aid cabinet mounted to the wall behind him.

Stepping around his immense form, you climb into the compartment on your hands and knees, rooting around to gather some surgical supplies. Where the fuck are your tweezers? Brilliant. If Nito took them... 

You close the cabinet door and see something looming into your peripheral vision. Mando leans forward into the compartment, both elbows propped against the door frame. Resting his weight on his good leg, his hips tilt, stretching his already lengthy torso.

How is it possible to exude this much sex appeal without an inch of him uncovered? 

Poised on your knees, you’re eye to eye now. Or rather, helmet to visor. The sleeping compartment is barely wider than the expanse of his shoulders, trapping you inside. Your heartbeat quickens, breath catching in your throat as you stare into that jet-black void, hoping there’s a chance he might abandon self-control and force you back onto the bed roll.

“Why do you always do that?” he asks, oblivious as always.

“Hmmm?” You’re still fantasizing about him crawling into the compartment on top of you and wrapping your thighs around his waist.

“Touch your visor every time your hand passes your face.” 

“Oh,” you say, a little dumbstruck, doing your best to ignore him while stuffing some extra gauze under your arm. “Fidgety, I guess.” 

In all honesty, you’re checking the tint settings for the millionth time to make sure he can’t see you leering at him. Which, thank the Gods! Because after sitting down on your heels to step out of the compartment, Mando reaches in to help you back on your feet. You misjudge the momentum, landing with about a hair’s breadth between you, and he would otherwise definitely notice that your pupils have dilated to the size of druggats. 

“Thanks,” you hear yourself whisper as the Mandalorian slowly releases his grip on your arms. His helmet tilts down, watching your face intently. Somehow, you always forget how tall he is. 

“You’re bleeding.” He says, brushing his thumb lightly over your cheek.

“Am I?” reaching a hand up to your face.

Probably from fighting off that Cathar. You hadn’t noticed the pain during your scuffle over the rifle. Taking off a glove, you drag your knuckle across the cut to wipe away the blood and grit. There’s a brief throb of heat when the skin fuses back together under your fingertips.

“Just like that.” He sounds astonished, watching until all that remained was a slightly raised scar on your cheek where the tear in flesh had been. That, too, would fade and, by tomorrow, be gone. 

“Just like that,” you repeat, bemused. It’s odd. He always seemed so in awe of your abilities for someone who didn’t want you to use them. “Well…I’ll, uh…let you get undressed.” 

Nodding, Mando kneels down to remove his boot. When he hesitates, you realize he’s looking up at you, staring at him.

“Right!” Cheeks achieving an even deeper shade of red, you awkwardly yank the curtain closed around him. 

Compelled to do something with your hands, you start clearing up the mess from Nito’s dismembered astromech project. You really should work on manifesting some of that dark cosmic energy because here you are, picking up after the kids like you are some kind of fucking nursemaid.

Debating what Dathomiri robes you would wear in your new life as a Nightsister, you straighten up and nearly jump out of your skin when you sense the Mandalorian standing right behind you. 

“Erenada, Mando! You scared me.” And it is genuinely frightening that he can move that stealthily.

“It’s a small ship.” 

His gruff reply is rough through the modulator, causing the hairs along your scalp to tingle. Gods help you, but his voice is sexy, too! 

While it doesn't count as much of an apology, he’s right about the Crest. As a patrol craft, the ship is basically a cockpit attached to a cargo hold. Thankfully, the carbonite rack has been moved, so you’re no longer confronted with a gallery of faces frozen in terror whenever you need to use the privy. 

Collecting your wits for the task ahead, you take a deep breath, turning around to face him. And instantly let out another burst of laughter, placing a hand over your mouth to smother the sound.

“What?” he asks, perplexed.

“It's just...always interesting to see what you decide to take off versus leave on.” 

It was hard to tell if the choice had more or less to do with modesty than the hassle of getting his leg out of that flight suit. It only started with the chest plate. Under that was the leather studded vest. Then there was another layer under that, with armored sleeves to attach his pauldrons. 

All this had to be removed before he actually reached the zipper. At one point, you made a count and guessed that he wore at least three or four layers over every part of his body. 

Well, except for…there.

With most of the armor removed, he stood, left leg bare from waist to foot, a latticework of scars glimmering against his golden skin. He holds one of the blankets from your bed, cinched tight around his waist. Shamelessly, you bury your face into the wool that night, hoping to catch a whiff of Mando’s junk now that you know he doesn’t wear anything under his flight suit. 

Yup, just slutty, slutty, slut, slut.

This might be the first time you’ve ever seen his toes. Wonder what that’s about? How does he decide what parts of him are too particular to reveal—or, was it only his face?

“Got to be careful. I'll run out of pants if you keep tearing them off.”

Whaaaaa—? Any hint of innuendo just hangs there between you, and you have to wonder how much of his meaning goes unseen from behind that Beskar.

“Um, fair enough,” you say stupidly, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “I guess—let’s get started.” 

Requisitioning Nito’s workbench as an exam table, you position it against the side of the hull and pat the cold metal surface to beckon him over. “Hopefully, I won’t have to amputate.” 

The Mandalorian rolls his fingers into a leather fist before cracking each knuckle in turn. Striding across the cargo bay in strained silence, he crouches down astride the bench, the view plate squarely focused on your face. 

“My favorite patient,” and you wink at him jovially. Eventually, he’s going to break under your relentless onslaught of charisma. 

Alright! Time to focus. Because this next part is where all your respectful professionalism gets tested. 

“I’ll start with the bandages.” 

Unwrapping the blanket from his waist, you ease it back, eyes passing over the dark pubic hair that you somehow, always inadvertently reveal. It trailed down past his navel, growing thick and coarse as it spread to his groin. His cock is only just concealed beneath the inseam of his flight suit.

Focus, focus, focus…

You concentrate on the cold snipping sound of the scissors. Carefully tugging away the old bandages, you expose the weeping, mangled stitches. “Pffft. Next time, I should order you to bed rest,” you say with a frustrated sigh. 

“Order me?” Fortunately, he sounds more amused than insulted.

“New Republic Workplace Safety Standards for Interstellar Travel state that a medical officer may supersede the chain of command whenever the captain’s health is at stake.”

That serene confidence you exude when slipping into ‘competent medical professional’ still comes as a shock, given what a fuck-up you are most of the time.

“Told you this–nnngh,” he growls through clenched teeth. You can’t be sure whether it’s a reaction to your coy defiance or the sting from the antiseptic spray. “This is not a crew. And I don’t remember giving you a rank, officer.” 

“Universal law of the galaxy,” you reply, washing clotted blood from the dark hairs along his thick, ropey thigh. “Saving the captain’s life earns you a promotion.”

For the second time that night, the Mandalorian lets out a huff of laughter. One of these days, you'll elicit a hearty chuckle from this man, and he won’t know himself. 

Before long, a comfortable silence sets in while he watches you clean the wound. The stiffness you used to feel under his gaze is softening. Amazing, how much has changed in the last few days. 

“Could you force me to follow orders?” he asks suddenly. 

The challenge in his words, spoken in that low baritone, catches you by surprise, stirring something deep in your belly. The sensation drags lower, an ache building between your thighs. 

“Confined you to bed with my dark powers?" You arch an eyebrow. "Why go to all that trouble, when—” 

You have to shake your head to clear out the smut. There is no way he intended that as a come-on. “I…um, suppose I could have put you into a coma until you healed. But, no. I can’t compel you to do anything against your will, Mandalorian.”

Like, convince you to fuck me! Nope. Stop that. It takes a moment to recover from the surging thrill of arousal. 

“Don’t worry,” you say brightly. “We’ll do this the old-fashioned way. It turns out that a city devoted to gladiatorial combat is a thriving market for medical supplies. I’ll remove the stitches, slap on some Synthskin, and in a day or so, you should fully recover.” Despite the torn sutures, the gash remained clean, and the Bacta prevented infection. “Assuming you can avoid any more brawling.”

“Brawling?” he huffs again. It wasn’t quite a laugh, but very nearly. 

Ugh. Why did one, not quite a laugh from Mando, feel worth a thousand coming from anyone else? 

You tell yourself it'll be a relief to end these intimate check-ins and changing bandages. It's far past time to reestablish some distance and tone down the flirting with your boss.

Sure, it excites you to think you might be the only person in the galaxy who knows that the Mandalorian has an outie belly button. But that’s exactly the problem, isn't it? Winking at him from across a bar table is one thing. The unspoken status quo starts to feel a little too fragile when you’re in this kind of proximity to his abs. 

“I’ve applied some topical analgesic, but this will still pinch.” You flash him your most dazzling smile while holding up your second-best pair of tweezers in one hand, surgical scissors in the other.

“So, what’s going to be our topic of distraction? Shall I have you list all the planets in the Otechi system?”

“Hmmm,” his satisfied humming makes the modulator crackle. “Erenada...” 

“What did you say?” Your fingers, usually so adept at pulling loose the silk threading, suddenly become clumsy. 

“Erenada,” he repeats. “Every man–or woman–swears in their native tongue. Erenada is Hapan. It means—”

“Obviously, I know what it means.” Blessed Mother. She who has no equal. It was the honorific for the Empress of Hapes, revered as a living goddess. Though coming out of your mouth, it's usually intended as blasphemy. “You’re very proud of yourself for figuring that out.” 

“Imagine my confusion since everyone on Dorumaa told me you’re Miraluka.” 

You raise both eyebrows and smirk, reminding yourself to breathe slowly through your nose so he won’t catch you panicking. “Are you referring to the first time I saved your life, Mando? Honestly, I should be a lieutenant by now. You almost bled out in my kitchen.”

“That’s what Ingtar told me—that you're a Miralukan healer.” His tone is not accusatory, and you don’t feel threatened, but the shift in conversation doesn’t feel like simple, friendly curiosity, either. “So, did you lie to Ingtar? Or did he lie to me?”

“Are those the only options?” You laugh nervously and shrug in what you hope is a convincingly innocent gesture. “Ingtar made an assumption. Guess that explains why he was always so protective. Did you know he once shot a man defending my honor?”

You're avoiding the subject, and Mando knows it. 

“I mean, okay, I do have great tits. Didn't change the fact there was no way to reattach that tentacle afterward—” 

Mando raises a hand to stop your babbling. You have this unfortunate habit of talking too much when you panic. Because, at this point, you are definitely panicking. 

“Miralukan healer is a good cover for why you never take off the visor,” he continues. 

Damnit. He's too observant. 

“Mando, I’m sorry if that’s why you hired me—thinking I was Miraluka.” Have you seen something you shouldn’t? Violated his Creed? He never takes off so much as a glove in front of anyone else.

But, why would he be sitting here like this, with so much of his body exposed beneath you, if it was forbidden?

“Hmm, though I can see how Mandalorian and Miralukan would make a perfect match.”

Did you say that out loud? 

“In a patient—um—medical context,” you add in desperate clarification. “Look, Mando, Black Sun needed someone to operate off the books, no questions asked. Forgive me if I didn’t volunteer information about my heritage to a criminal cartel.” 

“That I can understand,” he says roughly. “What I want to know is why you’ve been hiding it from me?” 

Breathe through your nose. Steady, shallow breaths. 

“I’ve been on this ship for months, Mando. Just because you weren't interested in hearing my backstory doesn’t mean I hid it from you.” And the bounty hunter can’t argue with you there—he’s never bothered to ask. 

“I’ve taken an interest,” he says, and his tone made clear that he had no intention of letting this go. 

“Then join us for cards later, and this will feel like a conversation rather than an interrogation.”

He didn’t skip a beat. “So Nito knows you’re from Hapes?” 

“Nito’s never heard of Hapes,” you say coolly, despite the flush of your skin. “I’m surprised you have since we’re about as rare in this part of the galaxy as Mandalorians.”

Then, a thought occurs to you. “Although, the stories about us veer a little more toward the...pornographic?” 

He’d doubtless heard the tales of women captured from across the galaxy by pirates to be bred on Hapes as bed slaves and concubines. 

“Have you been visiting the brothels on Keyorin, Mando?” you tug your brows teasingly. Every pleasure house across the Outer Rim claimed to have a Hapan in their menagerie. It was a favorite topic of discussion around fringer bars and gambling tables.

It’s a stupid ploy to rattle him since you’re pretty sure celibacy is a Creed tenet. Or maybe he did visit brothels? Who's to say what the bounty hunter got up to when he was out on a job? Still, you’ve watched plenty of women proposition the Mandalorian. And he never humored them. He just waited until their hands dropped away, their gazes fell and shifted.  

“Is that where you learned Hapan, Mando? Whispers in the dark?” 

If you thought you could throw him off balance with some lewd sarcasm, he remained dauntless as ever. With one hand, he grabs your arm by the elbow. Hard.

“Mando, what the—”

“You’re clever, but not consistent. When I returned to the ship after the job on Naboo, you’d fallen asleep in the cockpit watching the sunrise. Miraluka can ‘see’ without eyes, but I don’t think that includes horizons. And you sure wink a lot for someone without eyelids.”

Shit! A wave of anxiety surges in your stomach, bile scoring your throat like it might drown you. He’s been chewing on these suspicions for quite some time.

“And speaking of your eyes–”

His other hand moves up towards your face. Reflexively, you grab hold of the visor, nearly stabbing him with the scissors in your haste. 

Letting go of his grip on your arm, he calmly raises both hands in a sign of truce. 

“Okay,” Mando nods, taking your reaction as confirmation. “Always thought your tattoo must be Black Sun. Didn’t recognize the markings before. Never got a good look until a few days ago…”

Trailing off, his helmet turns toward the weapons locker behind you, where he’d spent hours holding you in his arms like a cherished treasure, your bodies tangled together on the cargo bay floor. 

Guess he does remember that part.

Kriffing hell! You are such an idiot for thinking the Bacta haze would just erase the whole thing from his memory. 

What had Tigran said? That life on the run required constant vigilance. It was like something out of a folktale. The moment you forgo caution to be close to him, the Mandalorian catches you out immediately. 

“Where would you have seen—?” You begin before it all slides into place. “Oh, right. Tigran.” 

You hadn’t meant to say that name out loud. Instinctively, you look over your shoulder, terrified that you might actually conjure the mercenary from across the quadrant to emerge from one of the shadows behind you. 

“He’s in the Guild, too, right? I bet all you hunters must know each other.” You force yourself to sound casual, as though saying that name didn’t just turn your blood cold. If Mando knew Tigran Vildar…well, that explained why he was wary of coming under your influence.

“I know him.” 

When it’s clear you’re anxious for more details, he continues impatiently, “We met working a job together. On Telkur Station. They had us clearing out some separatists occupying the hyperlane.”

“The Dark Cloud Uprising was—you were there?”

Hapes was only one planet amidst dozens of systems hidden beyond the Transitory Mists, but they ruled the Cluster with brutal efficiency. The Hapes Consortium quickly thwarted any insurrectionist ambitions—no matter how futile—by annihilating them completely. 

“I see. They brought in a bounty hunter to rescue the hostages, so they could just...massacre everyone else?”

“Something like that,” is Mando's only response.

“Well, I guess as long as the Consortium can rely on Tigran for some extra-judicial killing, he’s welcome to spend the rest of his time freelancing with the Guild.” 

“How do you know Vildar?”

Then you realize, “Wait! Is Tigran your connection to Black Sun? Is that why you were working for Ingtar?”

“Other way around," he snaps. "I asked, how you know Vildar?”

“Like I said, there’s not many Hapans living beyond the Cluster.”  

“And that doesn’t answer my question.”

“The question game, Mando, is intended to keep you distracted while I take out your stitches,” you say, gesturing towards his mangled thigh. “Did you really take off all that armor just to sit here and gossip?”

Shaking his head in irritation, he nonetheless readjusts his seat on the bench and allows you to continue working.

“So,” repositioning the tweezers. “You want to talk about Hapes? Regale me with the propaganda Tigran fed you while you were on the Consortium’s payroll. I’m very interested to hear how they justify our isolation from the rest of the galaxy.” 

“Clients don't owe me an explanation," he says firmly, shifting his back against the hull. "Just payment.”

Yikes! How many people looked over their shoulder when the Mandalorian came to mind? 

Finally, he relents. “What I know is mostly legend. They say that the Hapes Cluster was colonized by Lorell pirates who prized...beautiful women, captured to populate their settlements hidden beyond the Transitory Mists.” 

It takes a minute for you to notice that Mando is a little uncomfortable. After all, here you are, a descendant of those women stolen from across the galaxy to be bred by ruthless profiteers. Was he thinking about how he’d grabbed you moments ago? Ashamed by his own rough entitlement?

“After expelling the raiders, Hapans sealed off their borders. The gravity wells and ion storms surrounding the Cluster are impossible to navigate without a Consortium pathfinder. Even after their treaty with the New Republic–nnngh!”

“Just a few more left,” you lie, feigning concentration.

“That’s all I know,” Mando says. “Never saw anything beyond the station.” 

At first, you tease. “It might have jeopardized some plausible deniability if they had issued you a tourist visa afterward." Then you sigh, looking up from your work to be sure he understands. “They claim the enforced isolation is necessary to preserve our utopian society. But their real concern is that you might discover pathways through the Mists. That you could sell that information to smugglers and break their monopoly.”

“Exactly,” Mando's sudden shift in voice seemed to announce that he had finally arrived at his point. “That's why Hapans aren’t allowed to leave the Cluster. If you know Vildar, then you know he works for the Consortium, hunting down those who do.”

Stay calm. Focus on the task in front of you.

“I’ve helped Vildar catch a few,” Mando presses on. “Bounties are always high.”

“A bounty is a fixed cost compared to all those unpaid tariffs and docking fees,” you grin, heartbeat pounding against your eardrums.   

“Hapes was neutral during the war against the Empire. I’m surprised they let you leave to join the—farrik!”

“Sorry! Last one.” You pulled out that final stitch with more vigor than was strictly necessary, eager to steer the conversation away from how exactly you ended up on this ship, a million parsecs from the Cluster. 

“All done!” you chime in a hollow voice, tugging off the latex gloves. “I’ll prepare the Synthskin, which you can apply yourself if you'd like.” 

You lean back onto your heels to stand up when the Mandalorian wordlessly grips the edge of the bench. He swings his legs around and shifts himself forward, trapping you inside the space between his thighs. They frame the edges of your vision—one clad in gray, the other bare golden skin—as you stare, paralyzed by your own terrified reflection in the black surface of his view plate.

That dull ache between your legs throbs again. You should be scared. Instead, you're so wet it's slicking your thighs.

Despite the surging panic, you rearrange your face to appear merely surprised rather than frightened while the Mandalorian holds himself over you. 

“For someone who isn’t hiding anything, you're very good at dodging my questions.”

Alarm and desire course through you in equal measure, waiting for what comes next. He might pull you into his arms, extend some comfort toward a fellow lost soul crossing the galaxy—or he could throw you roughly to the ground for deceiving him.

And you can’t be sure which you want more.

“You’re a hunter, Mando. What could I possibly hope to hide from you?” 

“Exactly. I’m impressed you’ve kept up the disguise for so long.” 

“I wasn’t–”

“Then take off the visor,” he says in a clipped tone. “Vildar doesn’t wear one.”

“When you look like Tigran, I guess you don’t worry about flaunting it.”

Mando tilts his head suspiciously, “How do you know Vildar?” 

Did you imagine that flicker of jealousy in Mando’s modulated voice? Good. Better he thought sex was the only thing between you and the mercenary, Tigran Vildar. 

“I just meant…he’s like you. Intimidating. Neither of you is worried about being snatched off the streets to be sold to some flesh-peddler or warlord. Though I’m sure a Mandalorian would make good coin at one of those Keyorin broth—”

“That would never happen." His fierce sincerity cuts through your sarcasm like a blade, leaving you defenseless. "I would never let that happen to you.”

“O-okay, Mando. I’ll take it off.” There isn’t much point in refusing since he’s already seen you without it. So you reach a hand up to your temple. “I just hope the irony of this situation isn’t lost on–” 

You gasp when he grabs hold of your chin, pulling you closer inside the circle of his thighs so forcefully that you have to brace a palm against his knee to stop yourself from falling forward.

His grip is firm, but the tension in his hand is delicate, as though holding something precious. The tip of his forefinger rests just under your jaw. He tilts your head up, then side to side, to catch the ambient light glimmering across the reflective layer of your eyes. 

Could he see their color through the helmet’s view plate? A deep violet sheen, covering both the iris and sclera. Two glowing orbs, their luminescent gleam distinctively marking you as a true Hapan from the Cluster, one raised under the dim light of the nebula.

You’re doing your best not to fidget under his fixed attention, wishing you could shake off this awkwardness and confidently gaze up at him to embody the vision of Hapan beauty the entire galaxy is so fond of mythologizing. But the longer his silence stretches, the deeper your insecurity grows…

“Have you considered that I wear the visor as a courtesy?” You shift tact, trying to sound offended. Maybe you could shame him into backing off the subject. “Glowing eyes tend to make people uncomfortable. Especially humans.”

You knew that much about him, at least—that he was human. This wasn’t intended as a threat but a reminder that you've been observing him, too.

“If you actually worried about making me uncomfortable, you wouldn’t walk around my ship in your underwear.”

The air in your lungs evaporates as though the wind’s been knocked out of you. Your head snaps back out of reach, suddenly very conscious of his fingers on your face. For a second, you wonder if you’ve heard him right.

“Are you–?!” you scoff. But, of course, he's always serious. 

Impressive, how quickly he’s turned the tables on you. Now, you’re the one who’s worried about being offensive. Your robe feels too short, the fabric thin and threadbare. Okay, so sometimes you duck out of the sleeping compartment without putting pants on, and some of those times, he has seen you.

Which is maybe–might be–inappropriate. 

“You’re right,” clearing your throat, absolutely mortified. “It’s unprofessional. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it bothered you.”  

“Did you hear me say that?” 

Is he fucking with you? Gods, he is impossible to get a read on. You can’t be sure it’s his intent, but the rising sexual tension is very problematic for your composure. Don’t forget that interrogation is part of his profession.

“Go naked,” he says, taking your chin in his hand again, a bit more forcefully this time. “Just don’t lie to me.” 

“What is it you’re–?”

“Look at me.” The Mandalorian speaks in the same gruff tone he used to intimidate his quarry—a threat of biting steel and cold fury.

It’s hard to maintain control, kneeling on the floor between his thighs, thinking about the strength in his grip, the crushing force of his arms. How hard he could pin you to the ground and fuck you.

You look straight into the opening of his view plate, knowing that he’s glaring right back at you, scrutinizing every flutter, watching each blink and twitch of muscle.

“What do you want from me, Mandalorian?”

“Are you on Vildar’s list, Thulani?” 

Mando hardly ever says your name. It sounded so smooth on his lips despite the distortion of the modulator. How many times have you wondered what it might sound like to hear him gasping it in the dark?

“No,” you reply, summoning as much poise as you can muster.

“I told you not to lie to me.” His fingers squeeze tighter around your jaw, the heel of his hand pressing into your throat. You’re not…not scared of him, exactly. But you’ve never been on the receiving end of his threats before.

“No, Mando, I…” you stammer, feeling your larynx slide against his rigid grip.

“You really think I would hand you over to that monster? Is that why you–”

Your heart clenches, hearing the hurt in his voice. “Is that why I what?”

He doesn’t bother answering.

“Yes. I am wanted by the Consortium, Mando. But I’m not one of Tigran’s targets. We have an…understanding.”

For once, you’re grateful that you can’t see his face. You might not withstand the look of disgust—or worse, pity—while the Mandalorian imagined all the ways you debased yourself to escape Tigran Vildar. 

Let him think you earned your freedom on your back. It was preferable to the truth.   

“Are you worried I’ll give him the kid?” You ask, instantly horrified. “Is that what this is about?”

“What?! No,” he replies immediately, his gloved hand falling from your face. He draws back onto the bench, and suddenly, you feel cold without the heat of his body surrounding you. “I know you would never endanger the Child. But to keep you safe, I need to know what’s coming.” 

“You mean apart from every other mercenary in the galaxy?” A nervous bout of laughter bubbles in your throat. Dammit, Thuli, must you turn everything into a joke... “Mando, I–”

“Does he have some means of tracking you?”

“Tigran? No. Why would he? I mean…they must think I died in the explosion.” 

“And he’s not coming for revenge?” 

Now, that does deserve a laugh. “Wow! Um, no. Trust me, believing I’m dead makes Tigran’s life much easier. He’s not—” you glance up at the cockpit overhead, “He’s not coming for me.” 

It hadn’t occurred to you that amongst the abstracted threat of mercenaries hunting for the kid, there might be a face you’d recognize.

“Some monsters are worse than others, Mando. I think he would spare the Child. If it came to that.”

He pauses. Another agonizing moment spent in breathless silence. 

“Is Vildar why you were on Dorumaa?”

“Yes,” you say immediately, eager to show him how cooperative you can be.  

“How does a Hapan royal, turned Alliance rebel, end up working for Black Sun?”

“Ha! I am no royal,” but there’s a bitterness in your voice the laughter can’t quite hide. “That tattoo? Tigran and I are not part of the Court, Mando. We belong to them.”

If he wanted to see some honest emotion from you, he need only look at the hatred written all over your face. 

“Doesn’t look that way to me,” he says wryly. 

“It’s a long story,” you sigh. 

“I’m sure it is.” Mando tucks his arms across his chest, indomitable. 

“The Rebellion was desperate enough to send a half-trained refugee into the field. Getting a government job with the New Republic wasn’t quite as easy once they realized I'm technically a fugitive. Bureaucracies require a lot of paperwork, Mando. Criminal cartels do not.” 

“And they recruited you?”

“I was in some trouble…and Tigran took me to Dorumaa. The Miralukan disguise, the visor, was for my protection. He asked Ingtar to set me up with a job. Things were going pretty well until you burned down my apartment.”

“You saved us that day,” he says. “And now I know what it cost you.”

There’s the barest hint of apology in his voice—which is about all you get from the Mandalorian. 

“I would do it again.” Despite your best efforts, you choke up a little, saying, “Please believe I would never betray you, Mando.”

“I know. That’s not what this is about, Thulani.” Then he snorts, “Is that even your real name?” 

“Thulandahra,” you say in a small voice. When was the last time someone called you that?

“Thulani ?—not a great disguise.” 

“Because I wasn’t hiding it from you,” fighting the tears pressing against your eyes, “I swear I would have told you everything–I will–but what…what is this about, Mando? Why are you asking me all this now?”  

“You said you were in some kind of trouble.” 

Now, who's dodging questions?

“Do you need my entire life’s story this very minute?” 

“Fugitive.” And you can hear him doing the calculus. “So you found a path through the Transitory Mists to escape?”

Okay, deep breath in. “Yes.”

“Because you stole a pathfinder from the Consortium?”

Aaand, let it out. “Yes.” 

What more would he ask? If you know how much it’s worth? If you’d already sold it?

“Not by yourself,” he muses. “So, the Consortium wants you for stealing a Pathfinder—tech that you can’t even use since you don’t know how to operate a starship.” It wasn’t a question. “Don’t worry, the irony isn’t lost on me.”

And for once, without the visor on, he can truly appreciate the rich theatricality of your eyes rolling up towards the heavens.

****************************

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