#another thing — his body looked fine when he was doing that slow mo turn

[analogwriting]

Favorite View

Killer x gn!reader (afab) a/n: hopefully it's okay considering i wrote this slammered at the bar lmfao. also mo leannan and mo chridhe mean my love and my heart in old scots gaelic

“Killi, would you look at that view?” you said with a small gasp as you ran over to the window of the shared room the two of you were renting. Your crew was currently on some kind of resort island while the ship received repairs. They were deep repairs too, so everyone needed to be off the ship. Everyone spread out in the multiple resorts that the island had, wanting to try everything.

However, the only downside was that it was a wintery island, so you couldn’t exactly go outside and enjoy the sun too much without becoming absolutely frigid.

You felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your middle. “Mm, the view is nice, but I still think the view of you is better.” You snorted as Killer spoke, rolling your eyes. “You’re such a sap,” you mused, leaning into his touches.

“If it keeps snowing like this, we might end up getting stuck here. I think the only other two in this particular resort are Hip and Gig.” 

You let out a gentle sigh as you felt his lips find their way to your neck, you tilted your head to the side to give him better access to your skin. “That’s fine,” he mumbled against you. “I didn’t plan on meeting up with anyone tonight anyway.”

“Is that so,” you mused, pressing against him. You could already feel the man starting to get riled up. After all, he’d already taken his helmet off the moment the two of you entered the room. He had been wanting to jump you since the moment you two were alone. You weren’t going to complain, you wanted the same thing.

“Mhmm,” he hummed against your skin, pressing a kiss to the spot where your shoulder and neck met before biting it softly. You gasped softly, chuckling. “I’m not going to argue with that.” You turned your head, kissing him hard.

He let out a small growl against you. You turned, sliding your arms around his neck and he pressed you against the cool glass of the large window. You let out a small whimper when you touched it; between that and the heat radiating off the man before you, it felt really good.

You pulled away from him for a moment, both of you panting heavily. You could see that the heat of both of your bodies was already fogging the glass on the window. You wondered just how foggy it was going to get.

You dropped to your knees, surprising Killer slightly with your sudden movement and change of pace. Considering the fact that he had treated you with extra care the last time, you figured you’d return the favor this time. It didn’t take you long to pull the man out from his cloth prison and, you were right, he was rock hard already. 

“Already this riled up?” You had a light tease to your voice and licked your lips slightly. 

His face was already flushed and he was panting just from the sheer anticipation and excitement of seeing you down on your knees. “You just do things to me,” he mumbled.

You just grinned before pressing a kiss to his tip, mostly just to mess with him. You knew taking it slow drove him even more wild, which would pay off in the end for you. He grunted softly as you pressed another kiss to the base of his shaft before dragging your tongue along the side of it, listening as he let out a shaky breath. He put a hand on the glass window behind you to support himself as the other hand found its way into your hair, giving a light tug that made you groan a bit in response.

You couldn’t help but tease him, it was your favorite thing to do. Mostly because it made it harder for him to hold back, which is exactly what you wanted. You wanted him to go wild on you. So, you took his cock, slowly sliding it down your throat as you pressed your tongue against its underside. He let out a long groan. “Oh, you’re being slow on purpose,” he ground out, knowing exactly what you were doing. But, he fell for it every time.

Or maybe he couldn’t just say no to you. He looked down at you as you looked up to him and winked. He gripped your hair firmly and you felt your heart race as you pulled off of him. You were panting slightly as you looked up at him.

“Ah, ah,” he mused in his gravelly voice. It always grew deeper when he was riled up, making you so excited. “What do you think you’re doin’?” You could hear as his accent was slipping through, making your heart race.

“Open.” You obeyed, opening your mouth, sticking your tongue out for him. He grinned. “Good, mo leannan.” A shiver ran down your spine as he used the native tongue you both had. It wasn’t long before he had his cock deep inside your throat once more, both of you groaning as he did so. Your entire body felt like it was on fire with how turned on you were in this moment.

“Now, move.” Once again, you obeyed, beginning to move your head. He grunted, his grip tightening and pulling on your hair more, making you whimper around him. You moved your hands to his thighs to steady yourself as you found a good pace to bob your head.

Though, you wished it would-

Your thoughts were interrupted as he did the very thing you were thinking about. He began moving his own hips, thrusting in and out of your mouth. Your eyes rolled back as you let him essentially have his way with you, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Despite his rough movements, he was calculated enough not to actually cause you harm. Not that you’d be upset with a bit of aching from an activity like this.

Eventually, you could feel him twitching and his movements growing more erratic before his hips stilled as he shoved himself deep down your throat and came hard. Your eyes widened slightly as he reached so deep, but you welcomed it. When he pulled out, you made sure to swallow every bit, panting as you tried to recover for a moment.

He was panting as well, pulling you up so he could kiss you again. You hummed against him, wrapping your arms around him. “I always love it when you do that,” you mumble and he just grinned. He knew you liked it when he was rough, it was just pushing him to that point because he didn’t want to hurt you. Sometimes he forgot just how much you could really handle.

He pressed you against the glass once more and your entire body shivered and you whined. The shock of the cold only turned you on further and you could hardly stand it at this point. “Fuck, Killi. I need you,” you whined against him. 

In one of the quickest fashions you’ve ever seen, he had your lower half completely clothing free. You yelped in surprise as the cooler air hit you, but more surprised when Killer turned you around and bent you over slightly. You pressed your warm face against the cold glass, eyes rolling back slightly as you whimpered. 

At this point, you were sure he was doing this on purpose.

You shivered again as you felt his fingers trace along your folds, circling your clit. You let out a breathy moan, eyes rolling back slightly. “Killi,” you whined. You weren’t surprised that he was going to be the one teasing you now. You gasped, moaning loudly as he slipped one of his thick fingers inside, moving it around to start stretching you out.

It seemed he was just as impatient as you were because it wasn’t long before he had three fingers moving around inside of you, all kinds of noises of pleasure coming from you. However, between how turned on you were from earlier and the way he was handling you now, you could feel yourself being pushed towards the edge and that coil tightening from deep within your abdomen.

Only he pulled his fingers out before you could cum, making you whine in protest. “That was un-” You were cut off as you felt Killer begin to push himself inside of you, your words turning into nothing more than garbled moans. You leaned into the glass more, your eyes glued to the back of your head. Fuck, he always felt so good. Your toes curled a bit as your insides stretched for him and once he bottomed out, you were panting heavily, trying to keep your head from spinning too much yet.

“You’re doing well, mo chridhe,” he crooned in your ear in a low voice. All you could do was muster up some small moan in response, your brain already clouded with lust and the need to have him absolutely rail you against this window. His praises only riled you up more.

You opened your mouth to finally say something when he started to roll his hips, slowly pulling out of you before absolutely ramming himself back into you. You cried out, your entire body tingling as you felt that coil tighten and snap all at once, clenching around him as you came. You were panting heavily, your head spinning. “Better,” he teased lowly, playing off your statement from earlier that he had cut you off for. You just glanced at him over your shoulder, narrowing your eyes the best you could, but it only made him grin.

He enjoyed seeing you like this. The usual dominant doctor of the crew, a submissive and blubbering mess below him. And just for him. He leaned down, the movement somehow pushing himself deeper inside of you, forcing a mewl to come from you. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before he absolutely began to destroy you. His hips moved fast and rough, the squelching noise of him rapidly moving in and out accompanying the sounds of skin against skin bouncing off the walls around you. 

Not to mention you were far from quiet. The moans and cries for the other slowly became less and less coherent with each thrust. His grunts and growls sending shivers down your spine as he also left hickies all over your neck and shoulders. You definitely weren't going to be able to cover those without being suspicious.

At this point the window was fogged apart from where you were touching it, but as soon as you moved slightly, whatever glass was newly exposed was instantly fogged up. Much like your mind right now. It also wasn't very cold anymore, you had completely warmed it up. You were also glad there was a blizzard, no one could see you getting your insides rearranged from down below. 

Between Killer holding on to your hips and being pressed into the glass, you were glad for the support because you weren't sure that you'd be able to stand on your own. 

You felt him begin to twitch inside of you before his hips stopped and he filled you up quite generously, you weren't long after, crying out as you did so. Both of you were panting but you noticed that Killer didn't seem done quite yet. 

Oh man, you were going to sleep good tonight. 

You felt his arm snake around and his hand gently wrap around your throat. Ah, fuck. Your heart started racing even faster, if that was even possible. He lifted you up, standing with you as he pounded in and out of you. The window where you had been pressed against already fogging back up.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, mind blank with the pure pleasure you were feeling. With his hand placement and the sheer force of his thrusts, he squeezed the sides of your neck to cut off your oxygen just a bit to give you that perfect high. You were a blubbering, drooling mess at this point. Your legs numb, body buzzing with pleasure as he had his way with you - and you wouldn't have it any other way. 

You reached up behind you, grabbing at his hair and tugging it. Honestly, you were just moving without much thought. Killer let out a low groan as he bit into your shoulder roughly causing you to cry out his name. The first coherent thing you've said in the past half an hour. 

He didn't last long this round, stilling his movements once more as he filled you up once again. You also came again, your head spinning rapidly as your body went slack against him. You were panting, trying to catch your breath. You felt Killer doing the same. He held on you you around your waist, his other hand on the window before you as he tried to keep both of you steady. 

You mumbled something completely incoherent and you just felt him smile against your skin as he pressed soft kisses to the newest bite mark. That one wasn't going to be disappearing for a while. 

After a few moments, Killer turned your face towards him and kissed you softly. “Mm, I think this view is my favorite,” he mumbled against you. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you grinned. 

“You're so cheesy.” You kissed him again, slowly gaining your strength back. 

Honestly, if you were snowed in for a few days, you wouldn't exactly be upset about it.

[dameronology]

figure it out {din djarin x reader}

summary: din djarin doesn’t usually get jealous. not until he met you, at least {for the lovely and wonderful @stargazingcarol​} - 2.5k words 

warnings: swearing 

this is completely spoiler free!! just some good old jealousy and some antics with the kid. enjoy.

- jamie

You had a complicated relationship with the Mandalorian. 

On one hand, you were colleagues…of sorts. He’d spent two years coming to your outpost on Corellia when he needed his ship fixing – and after becoming fed up of traipsing back and forth, he offered you the job full time. It was a mutually beneficial situation. You’d been desperate to get out the city for years, and you were also the only mechanic he trusted. The prospect of a job that would take you all over the galaxy was exciting, even if it meant tiptoeing around one another in the cramped hull of the Razor Crest (and that was before the addition of the Child). But, when you spent days and days in hyperspace with nobody else to talk to, it was only natural that you became friends. It had felt a little awkward at first, as though you were trying to force conversation with a man who just didn’t want to talk -- but then the Mandalorian’s barriers broke down, and things began to change.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint when. It had probably been a few months in, not long after he’d saved your ass from a bounty who had thrown a punch in your direction. You hadn’t expected the Mandalorian to be so protective - and frankly, neither had he. It was after that he found himself doing things without realising; lingering touches on your back when he passed, his hands brushing your thigh whenever you were sat in the cockpit next to him. Then, you became unintentional adoptive parents to a weird, green creature - a bond between you that only seemed progressed naturally, as though you had no control over it.

One night, not long after you took the Child in, you’d both collapsed beside one another on the tiny bed in hull of the Crest. Usually, you would argue for a while about who got to take it, but on that night, neither of you’d had the energy. Under the covers of the dark and with the baby finally asleep, you were muttering amongst yourself - you couldn’t remember the conversation entirely, but it was sleepy, tired gibberish. Din found himself reaching to take the helmet off; he could hear you easier that way, and your voice was comforting enough to lull him off to sleep. In the quiet of the moment, and with the conversation between you reaching a natural stopping point, he’d gently closed the gap between you. It was simple; his lips on yours, only for a brief moment. Then, as though the Child had sensed that everything was no longer about him, he’d opened his mouth and let out a cry for attention.

You began to kiss more often after that; every night before bed, actually. As soon as the lights were off, Din would take the helmet off, give you a gentle kiss and then he’d drift off, holding you tightly to his chest. It was always that, followed by a good night, cyar'ika. Then the morning would come, and it would be good morning, cyar'ika followed by another soft kiss, before the helmet went back on and you both went about your days.

After a few months of that, you’d fallen into an easy routine. Neither of you had quite established what your relationship was, but it didn’t feel like you needed to. It’s not like there was anyone else around for you to have to worry about, or anyone else who would force you to define it. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating; Din Djarin had never been the type of person to plan ahead, and you knew that more than anyone. The idea of becoming attached to him, only to lose him or get hurt was enough for you to at least want to try and work it out. You weren’t expecting a deep conversation, or even one that you could walk away from knowing whatever the hell was going on between you two. 

It was just that with the addition of the Child, and the two of you growing closer each day, you wanted an answer. You wanted to know if you were wasting your time; if this was simply a pit-stop on your way to finding a more permanent settlement, or if this was it. Though you’d never admit it, you wanted it to be the latter. Din was reliable, and he cared about you. He was sweet in his own way and he’d have gone to the ends of the galaxy to look after you. He was protective in a way that let you fight your own battles, but not in a way you’d ever have to do it alone. You felt safe with him - as though you’d found everything you were looking for, except neither of you had been looking at all.

You brought the question up on a slow morning. The Mandalorian was between bounties, and you’d briefly landed in a dusty outpost on a thick jungle planet to refuel and find some food. The kid was snoring away in his pod a few feet away, clearly feeding off of the relaxed atmosphere that you’d managed to create. You were laying beside him, the lights still off and your head buried in his neck. Both of Din’s arms were wrapped tightly around you, gripping onto you as though you might slip away into the darkness of the vast galaxy. 

‘What are we?’ You asked quietly.

‘Humans.’ Right, there was the dry sense of humour.

‘Din.’ You grumbled. ‘I’m serious.’

‘What’s making you bring it up now, cyar'ika?’ He asked. ‘It’s early.’

‘I was just thinking.’ You sat up, pulling the covers with you. ‘We’ve been doing this thing for months but neither of us have actually worked out what the hell is it is.’

‘We don’t have to.’ He replied. 

‘Right.’ You murmured. 

‘It’s just-’

As though the little bugger had sensed a sudden onset of tenseness in the room, the Child let out a loud cry. You immediately recognised it: he was hungry. Even if you were ready to throttle anyone who dared come near him, you didn’t have a hard time admitting that he had a penchant for the worst timing. With that said, the fact he’d slept through the whole night without waking once certainly helped the fact.

‘Hey, buddy! It’s okay!’ You heard the mechanical click of Din’s helmet as he turned on the lights, allowing you to leap out of bed and stumble to the baby. ‘We’ll get you some food.’

That wasn’t the first time that something had magically changed the subject whenever you tried to bring up the status of your relationship with Din. If the kid didn’t decide to pull your attention away, it was the Mandalorian himself who veered away from the conversation. He always had to check on a bounty, or rush off to see if the ship was on the right route. It didn’t take a genius to work out that he was avoiding the subject entirely and you were starting to become frustrated.

After almost three weeks of trying to challenge him about it, you were close to giving in entirely. What if you were wasting your time? What if you were going to let yourself fall in love with him, only to find out you weren’t a permanent part of his plan? Fuck, did he even have a plan? Was that the life you wanted -

- it was at that point that your train of thought had stopped, because the Child sensed you were upset, and started bawling. Again.

A few hours after your fourth or fifth try at the conversation - once again to have it ended by the kid tossing a frog at you in an attempt to steal the attention back - the three of you ended up in a bar. It was a little cantina a few hours outside of Mos Eisley; it was much cleaner than the other bars you’d seen, and if it weren’t for your foul mood, you might have even enjoyed it. 

‘What’s up with you?’ Din asked quietly. 

‘Nothing.’ You murmured. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Your tone is off, cyar'ika.’

‘Leave it.’ You snapped. ‘I’m getting another drink.’

You moved the baby off your lap, placing him on Din’s instead. After digging around in your pocket for some credits, you quickly stood up and sauntered over to the other side of the bar, leaning against the wooden counter as you waited for your turn to be served. It wasn’t too busy - there were a few people floating about. Locals, you figured. It was a slightly fancier part of Tatooine, and you could see the difference in the people who were frequenting the establishment.

You were trying not to think about Din, or the fact he still refused to talk about what was going on between the two of you. You’d long surpassed the point of no return for your friendship - no, you were too invested now. Either he had to prove he was in it for the long run, or you had to walk away. Was that an unfair ultimatum? Not really. He’d started it, after all. 

‘What’s a pretty thing like you doing waiting for a drink?’

You glanced up to see a man beside you, a half-empty flagon of beer in his hand. He was tall, dark and handsome; the type you used to briefly date back on Corellia. He smelt of expensive aftershave, and his clothes gave the impression he was quite well-off. 

‘I could ask you the same.’ You replied. 

‘So you think I’m pretty?’ The man quirked an eyebrow at you.

‘No, I...I mean, yeahhhh.’ You turned to face him, offering him a smile.

‘You’re here with that Mandalorian.’ He glanced over his shoulder, before leaning a little closer towards you. ‘What’s his deal?’

‘Honestly, I couldn’t tell you.’ You snorted. ‘I don’t think he knows what his deal is.’

The conversation was completely innocent - after all, you had no intention of anything happening with whoever this guy was. And even if you did, weren’t you technically single? You certainly weren’t in a relationship, at least not according to Din Djarin. He had no standing ground, nor any right to be jealous. 

Still, that didn’t stop his entire body filling with rage the minute the man put his hand on your arm, and it certainly didn’t stop him immediately packing up all your stuff to leave the bar. Even the notion of another man touching you made him want to scream - let alone the actual sight of it. It was the way your new friend leant in a little too close, and laughed a little too hard at your jokes. You were funny, but you weren’t that funny.

‘We’re leaving.’ Din declared, suddenly appearing beside you. 

‘Okay.’ You shrugged, glancing up at him. ‘I’ll meet you back on the ship later.’

‘No, I mean we’re leaving.’

You snorted. ‘I think you’ll find that I’m staying right here- oof!’

You let out a small squeak as the Mandalorian grabbed you with his free arm, tossing you over his shoulder. Before you could protest, or even apologise to the man beside you, he was marching you out of the bar and into the cool evening air of Tatooine. All meanwhile, the baby was giggling at the site of you with your legs in the air and your face planted against Din’s back. 

The ship wasn’t far - probably not more than a two minute walk. Din had been conscious of the Child’s little legs when he’d parked at the outpost; he was becoming more independent now and insisted on walking places himself. It was just that he could only walk for five minutes before getting tired, but the little sod would cry if you tried to carry him.  He was lucky he was cute.

‘What the hell was that?’ You snapped, barely catching your balance as Din planed you on the floor of the ship. 

‘That man was flirting with you.’ Din simply stated. ‘I didn’t like it.’

‘You...’ you trailed off. ‘You didn’t like it?’

‘He was overstepping his boundaries.’

‘You were jealous, weren’t you?’ You let out a derivative snort, folding your arms across your chest. 

‘You knew I could see you.’ Din was still calm. 

‘And? It’s not like we’re in a relationship, is it?’ You murmured.

‘That’s not-’

‘ - let me finish!’ You cut him off. ‘I have been trying for weeks to talk to you about it, to see where I stand with you, and you always change the subject or try to run away from it! You have no right to be jealous, or to act like I’m with you because you have made it abundantly clear that I am not. Your high horse is basically a shetland fucking pony, Din Djarin!’

There was a silence between you for a moment. It felt good to have finally said it - you just wished you’d been a bit more gentle. Din had never seen you shout before, or even come close to losing your temper. He knew it was bound to happen but he had never imagined it being at him. Then again, if you’d tried to pick him up and force him out the bar against his will, he would have been angry too. (The thought of you even trying it was rather comical).

‘I was scared.’ 

That hadn’t been the response you were expecting.

‘Of me?’ Your voice was quiet.

‘I’m in love with you.’ He said bluntly. ‘That terrifies me.’

‘I...fuck.’ You felt as though the wind had been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with whatever grey smoke the Crest spat out when the engines were broken. ‘I love you too - but why does it scare you?’

‘Because it means I can’t ever leave you.’ Din continued. ‘And I want to give you the life you deserve but I don’t know if I can. Not with my job, not with the things I’ve done.’

‘Din.’ You took a step forward, his large hands enveloping yours as you did. ‘D’you think I care about any of that?’

‘I was afraid to ask.’

‘No offence, but you can be a bit thick sometimes.’ A small chuckle escaped your lips, even if tears were forming in your eyes. ‘I don’t care where we are or where we go, as long as I’m with you, then I have the life I want. That’s why I’ve been so off these last few weeks, because I was so scared you were going to turn around and push me away.’

‘That’s not going to happen.’ He said. ‘I’m not going to leave you - you have my word. I promise.’ 

‘So why don’t we just stop being scared and start just...being together?’

He briefly stepped away, hitting the control panel to turn off the lights in the ship. His helmet hit the ground with a thud, and a moment later, his hands were on your hips as he pulled you towards him. Din crashed his lips onto yours, closing the gap between you with a desperate kiss. You’d kissed before - more times than you could even begin to count - but this one felt different. It had meaning; purpose, in fact. It was as though the last few months’ worth of feelings that the Mandalorian had been pushing aside had finally broken.

‘I love you, cyar'ika.’ He quietly murmured again. ‘And I’m sorry.’

‘Stop saying sorry.’ You tearfully smiled, forehead still pressed against his. ‘And I love you too, even if you’re a bit of a dumbass sometimes.’

‘Say it again.’

‘I love you, dumbass.’ You quietly said. 

‘Is that now your equivalent to cyar'ika?’

[sleephyuns]

“Are you going to be a good boy today?” Nayeon cocked her head, waiting for Jeongyeon’s answer.

She watched the slow rise and fall of Jeongyeon’s chest. It was always something nice to appreciate, even if he wasn’t always in the mood to be touched there. Today wasn’t the case, however. She’d done a lot of touching when she’d adjusted the straps of his harness on minutes ago.

“What do you mean? I’m always on my best behavior,” Jeongyeon stuck his tongue out, essentially contradicting what he just said. Nayeon rolled her eyes, tugging the chained leash harshly. That shut Jeongyeon up.

“Then you’ll be on even better behavior if you want to cum today.”

She sucked through her teeth harshly, her heels tapping against the polished wooden floor as she moved forward. “Hands in your lap.”

“Yes ma’am.” All the bite in his voice was gone. Truly, it was easy to get him in order when he was pent up. Long work hours cut into his free time, meaning it was finally his chance to let it all out. Or rather for Nayeon to get it all out of him.

Herself? She wasn’t in the mood to be on the receiving end today. They’d both established that already. It was just one of those times where she didn’t like to think about her body too much (which wasn’t always a negative. it was a neutral thing, as she’d put it), but she was more than happy to have some fun with Jeong still.

She gave another tug to the collar, impressed about how still Jeongyeon had managed to stay even with the sudden movement. He really wanted this, it seemed. A jolt of excitement ran through her… or was it nervous adrenaline at the distant sound of the bell from downstairs?

Both of them turned their heads to the doorway, unsure if they’d heard it (but deep down they both knew). Suddenly, there was a furious ringing of their doorbell. It wasn’t Sana that was for sure. Even if they forgot their keys, they’d always call or text to be let in. The silence that followed made them both think it might have been someone delivering a package… but then there was a rapid banging at the door. Of all the days…

“Not again,” Nayeon sighed. Jeongyeon thought the anger in Nayeon’s voice was sexy, not like he could dwell on it for long though. This time, he made sure to unlatch all offending articles of clothing before throwing on a shirt. The boxers were good enough, if it was the person he thought it was at the door. Another round of banging at the door made them both groan. It must be.

“I’ll be right back,” Jeongyeon grumbled, leaving Nayeon to take off her heels and throw on her own clothes over her lingerie (seeing the lacy garment disappear behind a stupid sweater only made him more annoyed).

Deep down, buried under the different flavors of frustration, Jeongyeon was somewhat worried. Doorbell and knocking seemed a bit more serious than just using the bell. And he hadn’t gotten a text or call, so it could truly be anything.

Swinging open the door gave him part of the answer, the irritation sliding off his face. “Whoa… are you ok?”

Maybe to others, Momo would’ve looked fine. But to Jeongyeon he was a wreck. Visibly nervous, jittery, eyes red like he’d been crying.

“Sorry for not calling, but I got off work a few minutes ago and I was stressed the whole time and now that I’m not distracted I just wanted to talk and-“

“What’s wrong Mo?” Jeongyeon turned back to see Nayeon there, fully dressed and just as visibly concerned as Jeongyeon felt.

“Oh Nayeon’s here too!,” Momo seemed surprised even in his current state, “I’m sorry I probably interrupted again. Don’t worry I’ll go home! It’s fine, it’s fine-“

“Clearly it’s not fine,” Jeongyeon huffed, “Come in here since you already came all this way. And let’s talk.”

All three of them walked over to the couch, letting Momo sit in the middle.

“What’s wrong? Bad day at work?” Nayeon asked. But Jeongyeon didn’t think that was the case. Even on his worst days at the salon, he’d just go home and complain about it on the phone. Seeing him sat there, twiddling his thumbs, leg bouncing nervously… it was a strange reaction.

“Also, not that I mind, why’d you stop by here? Usually you’d call Chae if she’s not home and-“

That made all his movement stop in an instant, the air just as still, closing around them.

There was no choice but to ask. “Did you and Chae get into a fight?”

Nayeon’s eyebrows raised at his question, rapidly looking between the other two. It made him think that maybe he had read into things too much, but the way Momo’s lip twitched, like he was trying to find the words to say.

“No, we um… well we slept together.”

Nayeon gasped, Jeongyeon pursed his lips, and Momo had nothing else to say.

What should he say? It sounded like something Momo would’ve dreamed to happen. But instead all the happiness Jeongyeon would’ve expected was replaced with worry. “Oh wow… well what happened? Did something go wrong?”

Momo’s eyes were glassy, looking forward. “It was nice, then nothing happened.”

“Nothing?…” Nayeon jerked back like she’d been slapped, “Like things are going on like normal or…?”

“More like I woke up and she would barely say a few words to me,” the waver in Momo’s response was unmissable, “And I asked her if she was ok and she just said she was ‘fine.’ And with that response I couldn’t even say anything about what happened the night before. Then I freaked out and just went to work. It’s not like I can talk to her when I get back… it’s the long shift tonight.”

Nayeon frowned, not quite sure what to do with that explanation. “Oh I see.”

“Maybe text her saying you’d want to talk tomorrow morning?” Jeongyeon offered, “Or you can stay up late to do it, but sleep and strong emotions aren’t the best combo.”

The scraggly noises of Momo nervously “I’m just so worried. What if i messed it all up? What if I did something to piss her off? I don’t think I acted any different than when we usually fool around…”

Jeongyeon desperately wanted to comment on the fact that they “usually fool around.” But he worried that bringing that up might set up a whole new round of emotions in Momo. He always felt something was up, so he could just assume it was a normal thing for them, except for this time.

“I think it’s best to just ask. You and Chae have always been good with getting along, and being in sync.”

“Yeah,” Nayeon agreed, “And you know she can get in her head about things just like you. Maybe she’s not sure how to process the weight of what you’ve done on her own.”

It was true. Nayeon had known Chaeyoung for a while herself. And from what Jeong had heard, she tended to do a lot of inward thinking. Much much more than anything she outwardly expressed. It was a bit worrisome, the fact that maybe Chaeyoung would come to Nayeon for advice after all this. But they could cross that bridge when they got to it, if the time came.

“But what for?” Momo shook his head, “It’s not like she’s into me like that, so maybe I was too clingy.”

“Not into you… Mo what are you talking about?”

“We’ve only been messing around like I said, there’s no romance,” he gloomed. How could he be so blind to the obvious?

“Honestly, everything you do is practically romantic,” Nayeon guffawed, “Hell you’re more domestic than the three of us are sometimes.”

Jeongyeon couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

“That doesn’t mean anything… well to me it does but it doesn’t prove anything.”

“Look. Mo, just think about it,” he soothed his hand over Momo’s shoulder, “You’re more than welcome to stay and relax if you don’t want to be alone, but I honestly think the rest is up to you. Whatever you want to do, we understand. But Chae cares about you, and I think the least she would do is hear you out. But God knows she’ll do even more than that.”

“If you say so,” he sighed.

They stayed in a slightly awkward silence for a bit more before Momo started to get up. “I think I’ll go home… and maybe think of something to say. I’ll be home alone anyway so I can gather my thoughts better.”

“You sure?” He nearly tripped over himself following Momo to the door. It’d just shocked him, Momo up and leaving so soon. It was understandable, but he still wanted to make sure he was ok.

“Yeah I’m sure,” Momo nodded. He turned around right as he opened the door, giving Jeongyeon a good look at his face. No longer anxious, but much too serious for someone like him. Even as multifaceted of a person he was. “Thanks for everything. I’ll call you later.”

Jeongyeon nodded, leaning on the door as Momo started on his way again. “Of course. Be safe heading back.”

He watched Momo until he got back to his car, the sunset bathing everything around them in orange.

It wasn’t until Momo drove off that he finally closed the door with a heavy sigh. What an evening. And Sana wasn’t even home yet.

He turned back to Nayeon where she sat, soaking up what little light she could from the window with a questioning look on her face.

Jeongyeon could only shake his head in disbelief. If he was feeling stressed before her definitely was now. He dragged his heavy body over to the lamp to flick it on, then trailed to Nayeon to flop down next to her.

“I’m glad he’s alright at least…,” Nayeon spoke, though he couldn’t see as his head was tipped back along the top of the couch. “physically, I mean. And I’m sorry the mood passed.”

Jeongyeon squinted his eyes open, confused at first until he realized. “Oh. Don’t apologize it’s ok.”

Nayeon scoffed, “You say that, but we both know you need to let off some steam.” She held his hand in hers. “Anything else you wanna do tonight in the mean time? And we can get back to our other ‘activities’ tomorrow?”

“Yeah… yeah that sounds good. And Sana’s gonna be home all day tomorrow too. For now we can watch a movie or something.”

Nayeon furrowed her eyebrows together. “That’s all? …we can do better than that. Get on the floor, sit down here.”

“Um…?” Jeongyeon lifted his weary head to look at his girlfriend, “I thought you said we would-“

“Not like that!,” she laughed, “Just face your back towards me when you do.”

Nayeon clicked on the tv to one of the channels that played endless romcoms. Jeongyeon would’ve complained, if it weren’t for the numbing pressure he started to feel against his shoulders… when was the last time anyone had given him a massage?

“I’m not as good as the professionals obviously. But I can do enough. I figure this might help a little since you’re so tense.”

Nayeon’s hands were firm, hitting just the right spots, making everything melt away.

“Feels good?”

Nayeon asked, not really expecting an answer. The continued groans and gasps were really all she needed.

[1-800-sope]

Tag, You’re It (M)

paring: Jungkook x reader

rating: M

Gener: Yandere 

Warnings : Kidnapping 

Summery: They always say it’s someone you know, someone that you are close to that turns out to be a psycho freak, you just weren't expecting it to be your hot innocent next door neighbor.

Inspired by Tag, You’re It by queen mel <3

BTS Masterlist

“Looking at me through your window

“Boy, you had your eye for a little”

“Hi Y/n.” Jungkook, your friendly neighbor shouted from across the yard as he spotted you. “Good afternoon Jungook, How are you?” You shouted back mirroring his smile. “I’m doing good just got done with some grocery shopping.” Jungkook responded displaying the plastic bags he was holding in his arms.

With that you let out a groan as you inserted your key in the lock. “That reminds me, I have to do some shopping of my own.” A chuckle escaped from jungkook.

“I’ll cut you up and make you dinner

You’ve reached the end, you are the winner.”

“Say if you don’t have food, I hope i’m not overstepping but why don’t you come over for dinner tonight.” Jungkook asked innocently, biting his lip as he eyed you from the sided. You focused on opening your front door trying to ignore the pounding in your chest. “As much as I would enjoy that Mr. Jeon, I have some homework to get to tonight.” You said as you looked up at him. Your door was now unlocked but you didn’t want to go inside, not yet at least. You wanted to savor this moment with your overly extremely hot next door neighbor.

Jungkook nodded his head as he went to open his own front door. “Well I wish you all the luck on that homework, but just know my offer still stands.” To anyone that would have seem like an innocent invitation, to YOU it was an innocent invitation. but to Jungkook it was far from innocent. 

-

“Rolling down your tinted window

Driving next to me real slow, he said”

Jogging through the neighborhood was one of the things you did every morning five days out of the week. You would jog around the block two times, stop by Mrs. Kim’s daughters lemonade stand grab a drink and continue. It was all apart of the routine.

But having a suspicious black BMW slow down as it turned down the street you were making your way down was not apart of the rutie. 

You were an observant girl, always aware of your surrounds, you liked to be kept on your toes never getting too comfortable, some might call you paranoid. So when you turned your head and caught site of the slowed down car you picked up your pase. But so did the car.

“Howdy Neighbor.” A familiar voice called out as the car was now next to you. “oh my god Jungkook!” You jumped back face flush with a beating heart. God this boy will give you a heart attack one day.

Jungkook looked at you with innocent eyes. “Are you alright?” He asked as you stopped and placed both of your hands on your knees, taking in deep breaths. 

“Yes, you just scared the living daylights out of me that’s all.” You chuckled leaning back up whipping some sweat off of your forehead, when you make eye contact with him your face flushed.

gross and sweaty in front of the handsome neighbor way to go Y/n,

“Oh my bad I didn’t mean to.” He quickly spoke with a sincere look in his eyes. You laughed and shook your head. “It’s okay Jungkook, Just don’t drive so creepy next time.” 

“Let me take you for a joyride

I’ve got some candy for you inside.”

“Say, I just got back from the store and I have some popsicles it is a hot day, would you like any?” Jungkook asked with a sweet smile that almost made you say yes right away.

You watched as the young man reached in the back of his car behind the driver's seat, you took note on how the ink on his muscular arms looked extremely good

when he pulled forward a box of popsicle you looked away not wanted to get caught drooling over him. “Thank you Jungkook.”You smiled as you watched him open the box. Your mouth instantly watered.

“Come eat it inside.” Jungkook said. You watched in confusion as he leaned over and open the car door. “Oh I really shouldn’t” feeling self conscious you took a step back. 

“Nonsense, The popsicle will melt while it’s out there, and do you really wanna hold a sticky stick while you run.” He looked at you with a teasing smile. 

Giving up you rolled your eyes and got into the car. “that’s a good girl.” Jungkook said as you shut the door face now more flushed than before and chest pounding that you pray to the gods he can’t hear it.

‘What flavor do you want?” He asked dismissing the comment he just made. You on the other hand had the words still repeating in your head. Another puls feeling shot through you but this one was not in your chest.

“Is there Orange.” You mastered to ask as you let out an awkward cough hoping he just thinks your flustered state is from the morning run. “Let me take a look.” He mumbled digging through the box.

“If not cherry is fine, you know i’m okay with any flavor except grape. the grape ones-”  “taste like medicine” You and Jungkook said at the same time. You nodded. “You're in luck missy, I found an orange.” He playfully smirked holding up the orange flavored popsicle.

-

It’s been four weeks since your encounter with Mr. Hottie neighbor and you were thankful for that. Yes Jungkook was nice company but you won’t be able to go another minute with your heart going crazy like it was going to blast out of your chest.

It was currently 1:30 am and you were laying on your living room couch trying to finish up your thesis statement for one of your college courses, that when the third rumble of your stomach hit and you got fed up. 

grabbing your car keys and throwing a jacked over your tank top you made your way out the door and to your car. One of the perks of being a college kid is being broke, ordering takeout for three weeks straight really put a dent in your pocket.

starting your car up you drove to the nearest corner store that was open.

-

pulling into the parking lot you failed to notice how it was almost empty except for wo other cars.

stepping out you didn’t bother to lock your car door the goal of getting in and getting out was the on thing that filled your mind.

“Running through the parking lot

he chased me and he wouldn't stop”

Once you were done paying you quickly grabbed your bag and pushed open the door, the cold air greeting you in the procese sent a shiver down your spine. was it worth it to go out in your pajama shorts and a tank top, looking around you took in how dark it was. no it wasn’t.

quickly opening your car door you placed the bag next to you and the keys inside. taking a peaky through the rear view mirror. That’s when you saw it

There was a person in the backseat of your car but before you could let out a bloody scream they placed the a white cloth over your mouth. 

Now you were fully regretting going out tonight.

Not taking in a deep breath you reached your hand out to the cup holder next to you grabbing the paper spry you through your arm back and pressed down on it, the attacker cussed and moved their hand. 

not wasting a minute you got out the car and did what anyone in their right mind would do. You ran. you heard the car door slam shut and you knew they got out too the fast footsteps that started to follow you proved it. but you didn’t stop, you didn’t look back. 

“Grab my hand, pushed me down

took the words right out my mouth”

You felt the hands on you, the force pushed you to the ground as a hand went clasping around your mouth muffling your scram, a muscular arm wrapped around your waist bringing you back up.

no 

no 

no 

This was not happening, You were not done for. You couldn't wouldn't except this faith and that's why you did everything your self defense classes taught you. You slammed your foot on this psycho’s toes and he released you again with a cuss.

if you would have listened. you would have noticed that the voice sounded oddly familiar.

but before you can even get one step away something hard came in contact with the side of your head sending you straight to the gourd.

your blurry vision filled with large black boots and then you lost consciousness.

-

You slowly opened your eyes, gretted to a dim light and a room with four walls, no windows in sight. just a door. panic rushed through your body and you tried to move that’s when you noticed you were hanging.

A thick rope wrapped around your wrist was hanging you up from the ceiling nothing was supporting your feet.

“Enie meenie miny mo”

A voice was heard from behind you, it made your heart stop. 

“Get your lady by her toes”

You felt something brush against your ankle and you let out a piercing scream. The sinister sound turned into a child like giggle.

“If she screams, don’t let her go” it sung.

A choked sob escaped you as the tears started to run down your face. “Whyy why why why.” You whispered to weak to speak.

“Shhh shhh, it’s okay love.” The voice cooed as a hand was gently brushing down the side of your head.

The presence of your abductor finally showed itself,  they were now standing in front of you holding those familiar innocent doe like eyes.

“J-Jungkook?” 

“Howdy neighbor.” 

[levis-hazelnut]

Levi x Reader How To Be The Perfect Boyfriend

Summary: Levi advising others on how to make a woman happy (because men just seem to be oblivious to this and don’t know how to be the perfect boyfriend).

1. Always make time for her, brats. If you try to push her away, she'll find a way to get you to spend time with her.

As always, Levi would wake up after a couple of hours of sleep, which wasn't very healthy for him, and he would start his day. He has breakfast, has a half an hour break to do whatever he wants before his squad awaits him on the training ground. Once their training session finishes, he heads to his office, getting ready to make a start on the paperwork that resided on his desk. And that's when she comes in with a tray and a smile adorning her lips. She placed the tray on the wooden surface and gave him a cup of tea with steam dancing around over it. Levi quietly thanked her as she took her own cup of tea and sat on the edge of the desk. After taking a sip, smoky hues glanced at the face of the person he loved (though, he would never say that aloud unless he was in the mood to be sappy). He shot her a questioning look since she was just staring at him, her tea long forgotten. "What do you want?" he inquired. Without a single word leaving her lips, she leapt off of the desk and made herself comfortable on Levi's lap. He bit back a huff when she buried her face into the crook of his neck and placed butterfly kisses over his skin. "(Y/N), I have a shit ton of paperwork to do." "And...? Are you prioritising your work over me - your wonderful, loving, best ever girlfriend?" she sassed back, removing her face from his neck.

"You know I'm always putting you first. It's just that I want to finish this and deliver it to Eyebrows so he can get off my back." "Fine," the curt word left her lips as she got off of the raven-haired male. "I guess you don't love me anymore." The last thing he saw was a pout before she disappeared into his bedroom. He knew she was doing this just for attention, but he couldn’t sit around like this. Sighing, Levi ran a hand through his hair and scraped his chair against the floor, standing up and walking into the room his girlfriend decided to retreat to. She laid on her side, beautiful, (E/C) orbs on the radiant sky outside the window that was slightly ajar, letting a refreshing breeze into the room. Levi laid behind her, his chest barely brushing her back as he looped his muscular arms around her waist, tugging her closer to him. Even though he couldn't see her face, he could bet that she still forced on a pout that deterred a smirk from appearing. "I'm sorry, (Y/N)," he hummed, kissing the back of her neck. "I can leave the paperwork for later since I don't have to finish it until tomorrow." A smile sprang onto (Y/N)'s lips when she twisted her body around and snuggled into Levi after pecking his lips. He let a smile of his own conquer his lips, even though he was still mildly irritated that she always finds a way to make him waste time. "I love you, Levi." "And you know I do, too, otherwise, I wouldn't be here cuddling with you." 2. Do not call her 'brat' (unless you don't wish to reproduce).

There she was, training a bunch of poor excuses of soldiers meant to protect humanity. Yeah, well, forget about them, they have no significance. Only the woman teaching them does. She stood there with a wrinkle formed in between her brows, yet a miniature smile rested on her soft lips. Her arms were crossed over her chest as her melodic voice sounded over the hushed voices of scouts who had the fucking audacity to talk over her. She could obviously hear them, but being the generous person she is, she didn't bother in shouting at them. Or maybe it was because she knew it wouldn't make them stop. Anyway, back to her beautiful self: her luscious tresses danced with the faint breeze that caressed her face, which held glistening eyes, a boopable nose, and lips that Levi made swollen. Then, let's go to her amazing body that Levi has caused to ache and covered it in love bites and such. If you're getting sick of the description, just imagine the sexiest goddess and multiply her beauty by fifty. You'll still be nowhere near imagining the woman standing there, but it's the closest you could get. Once the scouts got to training and (Y/N) just watched over them, her boyfriend came into sight as he approached her. "Hey, my love," she beamed. "Hi, brat," Levi replied and was about to peck her nose, however, that didn't happen when he stumbled back when his girlfriend pushed him. A frown danced on his face. "What the hell are you doing?" "Don't call me 'brat'," she growled and edged closer to him before thrusting her knee into a place that seemed as if it had an effect on the boys watching as they all winced and let out sounds of pain. The Corporal dropped to the ground as his 'wonderful, loving, best ever girlfriend' smirked down at him before facing her squad. "Girls, this is how you deal with jerks that don't know how to treat you right. Now, get back to training!" After her little piece of advice, (Y/N) turned back around to the groaning Levi, sprawled on the floor. "Love ya, my honey," she piped and crouched down to peck his forehead. Fucking brat... Levi thought once her lips touched his skin. 3. Show that you love her; randomly attack her with affection, or just cheer her up when she's down, or simply keep her company while she's relaxing. Cheesy shit like that (do excuse my language, dipshits).

The sun beamed down on the training grounds (though, the sun could never compare to her smile) where scouts were lazing around because of the heat smouldering them. Levi could care less since he wasn't in the mood to scold them or train them. So, he headed over to (Y/N), who took cover under the shade of a tree that loomed over her as if protecting her. She sat down cross-legged on the emerald grass, leaning her back against the trunk of a tree as she had a book in her lap. As to not disturb her too much, Levi quietly neared her before settling on the grass beside her. She gazed at him with a tender smile touching her lips before facing the book again. He draped an arm around her shoulders and made her rest her head on his shoulder as he started to run his hands over her (H/C), silky tresses. The action soothed both of them. Shortly, lips softly pressed against the top of her head, which made her put the book down as she lifted her head off of Levi's shoulder to face him. A smirk stained his lips and (Y/N) leaned forward to kiss him. Fingers tangled themselves in her hair as she placed a single hand on his shoulder and shuffled closer to him. Teeth gently nibbled on her bottom lip and she parted them, letting his tongue slip into her mouth and dance with her wet muscle. A soft sigh left her lips and vibrated against his before they pulled away. (Y/N) licked the string of their combined saliva away, leaning her forehead against Levi's. No words were spoken, but that didn't matter since no words were needed. ~/~ Everyone had distress written all over their faces after another miserable expedition. Many losses, many injuries, many disasters. And everyone included (Y/N). She was in her room, lying down in her bed with the covers encasing her as she quietly sobbed, clutching a piece of fabric against her chest. Marie, her best friend that she's known ever since she joined the Survey Corps, had died on this expedition. She hadn't been there to try to save Marie and she blamed herself for that. She blamed herself for being a terrible friend. "(Y/N)?" Levi softly called once he padded into her bedroom. He got no response, except sobs as he approached her. The raven sat on the edge of the bed and gently tugged (Y/N) onto his lap and cradled her, tucking her head under his chin. He hushed her like a mother to a child and rubbed comforting circles on her back.

He knew anything he tried to do would be useless since it was her best friend that she lost. Losing anyone was difficult, but losing someone that was close to you was something that no one wished to experience. "... I-I wasn't eve-en th-there in h-he-er... last mo-oments-s..." "Shh. It’s not your fault, my love." With some more calming words, her sobs soon quietened and there were only a few tears. Levi forced her to get ready for bed and sleep since she hasn't rested since they came back from the expedition. Her boyfriend changed into something more comfortable before crawling in next to her. He wrapped his arms around his girlfriend protectively and pulled her close, promising that he'll keep her safe, no matter what. ~/~ The (H/C)-haired female stared out of her open window, watching over the scouts that messed around on the training grounds as a subconscious smile fell on her face. She was so engrossed in the azure sky, the puffs of white, the luminous spotlight and the scouts, that she didn't even hear her office door open. She continued smiling and staring until a fit of giggles suddenly took over. She tried slapping away the hands that tickled her sides and squirmed in her spot before slowly dropping to the ground as fingers proceeded to tickle her further. "Levi!! Stop, stop!! Levi, seriously...! I'm going to pee myself!" she said in between giggles and pants, trying to push the human on top of her off. Soon, there was no movement, only (Y/N)'s chest rising and falling as she caught her breath and gazed into grey hues. Once oxygen was back into her lungs, slightly chapped lips moulded with hers for a slow dance as she was pinned to the floor. "What was all this for?" she whispered with a grin when their lips parted. "I was bored and you were off guard." "Hm. I love you so much, Levi," she hummed and brushed his ebony locks back from his forehead. "I love you so much, too," he murmured before smashing his lips against hers once more. 4. Never call her a monster when she's on her period. Also, always attend to her needs before said monster comes out.

Levi just barely dodged the book that was thrown at him as he retreated into his office, trying to take cover from the monster that lay in his bed. Though, he shouldn't call her monster anymore since the book was launched at him for that very reason. Not wanting to interact with the beast any further, he sat at his desk and finished off the pile of paperwork that decided to wander onto the surface. "Levi!!” At the scream of his name, the aforementioned male's hand had slipped and caused the ink to ruin the page. He clicked his tongue as quietly as he could before getting up and leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom. "Yes?" "Could you get me some mint tea, my darling?" she asked with an innocent voice. "Okay," Levi said and walked away, leaving to get (Y/N) tea, being the amazing boyfriend he is. "Levi!" What's the fuck is wrong now? Levi groaned internally before facing her once again. "When you come back, can you cuddle with me?" "... Sure." "Okay. Thank you, my sweetheart." Finally, he was able to leave his office and not have to her screaming his name. Yeah, she was in a bed, but he would prefer if he was in that bed with her as she screamed his name. However, he can't do that right now. Levi made (Y/N) her tea before going back to his room and giving it to her. She took a sip, let out a satisfied sigh before yanking the short male down onto the bed. Damn, even though she's in pain, she's fucking strong. His chest collided with hers before he rolled onto the side, embracing her and rubbing circles on her abdomen that seemed to help her. "Levi?" "Hm?" "Do you hate me?" "... No." Ah, the hesitation. Why did he hesitate? If he didn't, everything would be fine. "I said: Levi, do you hate me?" she repeated, gritting her teeth. "Of course not, darling. I love you more than you could ever imagine." Ugh, those words made him feel nauseous, but if it meant he could keep his head, he would say it.

Well, it's not like he was lying. 5. Help her. She may be terrifying and strong at times, but she still acts like a damsel in distress when she's perfectly fine.

Levi sat at his desk, pen in hand as his eyes grazed over the words written on a piece of paper that resided on his desk. It was almost fucking midnight and he had to send in this report to Erwin by tomorrow morning. Distracting him from his work, (Y/N) stumbled into his office and dropped a tray that held two cups of tea. He barely regarded her before getting back to his task, knowing she was glaring at him, but decided to do nothing about it. "Levi!" "What do you want?" he muttered. "Would you mind helping me?" "You're the one that dropped it." Her eyes narrowed and she clenched her fists before standing up and storming over to his desk. This is when he finally decided to look at her when she towered over him with her index finger pointing towards him. "You're such a jerk, you know." "I know. Go clean up that mess." She sighed and flicked his forehead before doing as he said, no matter how impolite he was being. Once she wiped up the tea with wipes and a spray, she started to clean up the shattered glass. As she did that, Levi crouched down in front of her and helped his girlfriend, who just stared at him. "Stop looking at me like that, just be grateful I'm helping your clumsy ass." She smiled before quietly hissing in pain. Concern flickered in the raven's eyes, but soon confusion appeared when she was still smiling. "I'm fine. I just got a bit of glass in my finger." The female with (E/C) eyes stood up and put her finger in the light so she could see the glass. A shadow prevented that from happening as Levi took her hand and easily removed it before putting it into a tissue. "Thank you, my love,” she beamed. 6. Push bitches away. Once you do that, show her that she's the only one you want.

Levi had been forced to go to a ball of sorts with Erwin and Hanji. But of course, he despises snobby shitheads and pigs flaunting their money, so why would he want to go to an event full of those creatures? After much complaining, Erwin had told him that he could bring (Y/N) along, and that had shut Levi up. And there they were, dressed in formal clothes as they followed Erwin around, conversing with people. "This shit's boring as hell," Levi murmured to his beloved who had hooked her arm with his. "Do you want to dance?" "Are you stupid? I hate dancing." "Oh, come on, baby. We've danced before." "Yeah, I did that for you. I'm not doing it again. Not even if it would get rid of titans." "Fine... Could you get me a drink, please, then?" "Sure." She let Levi go over to a table and get drinks for both of them as she wandered over to Hanji who was talking to some woman. The brunette gave (Y/N) a grin before introducing her to the woman she was talking to. "It's nice meeting you, (Y/N). And I just want to say that the man you were walking with is gorgeous." "Yes, he definitely is," she smiled. Only Hanji knew that it was a fake smile. "I'm lucky since I've been with him for a few years now," she made sure to add, so this woman knows to stay the fuck away. "Oi, you lot, get off of me," Levi snarled, trying to push a couple of women away and making sure not to spill the drinks he was holding. "Well, you have nowhere to go, do you now?" one of them spoke, batting her eyelashes and dragging a finger from his collarbone down to his waistband. He put a glass down on the table and slapped that hand away before it could go further, shooting the woman a glare. "Touch me one more fucking time and you're going to lose that hand," he threatened darkly. Levi doesn't care who he's talking to, be it a woman or not. No one touches him like that. Yeah, right now, he sounds like a dickhead for treating women like this, but he would be even more of a dickhead if he didn't attempt to push them away when he has the most perfect woman by his side. "And I actually do have a place to go to. You see, my girlfriend over there wants to dance. You know the one in that icy blue dress? Yeah, that's her. And, oh look, she sees me so she's going to slap every single one of you if you don't fucking get your shitty hands off of me." Hm. Looks like that scared them, Levi smirked mentally once they all decided to move away. He straightened his clothes and passed (Y/N) a glass of wine as she glared at the women that scurried away. "Come, let's dance," the Corporal slipped her hand into his and led her to the other dancing couples. "I thought that you didn't want to dance." "I will if it means that those b*tches will leave me alone." The (H/C)-haired female gave Levi a tender smile (she knew that it wasn't because of that reason) as she placed one hand on his shoulder as the other clutched his hand. The raven's other hand rested on her waist before they swiftly danced as (E/C) and grey clashed. (Y/N) lifted her hand off of Levi's shoulder and he spun her around before bringing her back close to him. Soon, their dancing slowed down and all they focused on was each other's eyes before standing completely still amidst the other couples that moved their way around the hall. Levi rested his forehead against the one of the woman he loved, their lips barely brushing. However, a couple bumped into them which disrupted their moment that felt as if they were the only two people in the room. Levi caught his beloved before she could tumble over. Looking to see who it was, grey hues met blue and brown ones. Hanji and Erwin. "Tch." "Hi, (Y/N), Shorty! Keep your kissing for later." 7. If you love her as much as you claim to, propose. That will make her feel as if she's the happiest woman alive (and it will make you feel as if you’re the happiest man alive).

(Y/N) and Levi laid in bed together, entangled in each other's arms with their legs overlapping as they peacefully slept. (Y/N) had her face hidden in the crook of Levi's neck as her chest pressed against his. The raven tucked her head under his chin as his arms rested around her naked figure. They had stayed up most of the night, doing things. And the good thing is that everyone had a day off today so they could sleep in as much as they wanted. They may miss breakfast, but that didn't matter. The sunlight scattered through the curtains in Levi's bedroom, resting on his girlfriend's face which caused her to close her eyes tighter as a frown settled onto her visage. She turned away from the light, which meant turning her back to her boyfriend, who quietly groaned. He subconsciously tugged her closer to him and buried his nose in her hair. A yawn left her lips as she slowly opened her eyes, blinking a few times. She smiled at the feeling of Levi's arms that kept her warm and safe before closing her eyes again. When she did that, she felt light kisses peppering over her neck, causing a sigh of delight to leave her lips as lips trailed down her spine. He went further down and nipped on one of her butt cheeks so she let out a small yelp and lifted her foot to kick him. Of course, however, she had no idea where she was aiming. A grunt sounded and the grip on her loosened. "You really don't want kids, do you?" he grumbled in his husky, morning voice that also hinted with pain. "You want kids? Even though you hate brats?" she snapped with her back still facing him. She felt his hands travel over her hips to find her hands. He acknowledged which hand was which and took her left one in his. "If they're yours, I want them after we get married," he hummed, slipping something light and cold onto her finger. "... Wait... No. Are you joking? Levi, I swear, if you're joking, I'll straight-up murder you," she threatened after turning around to face him when she noticed a smile resting on his lips. "I'm not joking. I'm being serious," he chuckled lightly. "I love you, (Y/N). I don't want to lose you and I always want you by my side. So, (Y/N) (L/N), will you marry me?" "You idiot, of course, I will," (Y/N) sobbed and embraced her, now, fiancé. "I love you so fucking so much." And that, brats, is how to be the perfect boyfriend. You're welcome, dumbshits - by Levi.

[perriewinklenerdie]

Adore you (MO, 13/17, Ethan x MC)

Missed Opportunities Series, Chapter 13

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 826

Summary: All the times when Ethan could have told Claire he loved her but didn’t, and one time he did. Told through Ethan’s eyes.

Warnings: None for now

A/N: Claire finds out the truth - some angst follows (like, a tiny bit), but they finally have the talk.

He hasn’t felt this helpless in a long time. Stuck at home, again, with his thoughts as his only companion, he was driving himself crazy. If someone asked him how many times he replayed that case in his head, or looked at the chart that was now safely sitting in its place in the archives again, he wouldn’t be able to give a straight answer – that’s how many times he’s done it.

It’s no wonder, then, that once Claire stood right before him, in his doorway, his mind blanked. He’s been alone for what felt like weeks but was in fact only a day. A sight of another person caught him by surprise, even more so given the fact that it was his own partner.

“Do you think you’re ready to talk to me now?” She asked him after a moment of silence, patiently waiting to be let into his apartment. Keeping herself at a distance that killed them both.

Ethan was speechless. He fumbled, unable to give her a single word. His mouth opened as though he was about to speak, then closed it. Then opened it again, but the only sound it gave was a tired and lost sigh, full of uncertainty. His shoulders slumped.

“Oh, Ethan.” Claire whispered and, once he gave her a barely visible nod, walked up to him, and wrapped him in her arms as best as she could.

That kind of affection – unconditional and warm – was entirely new to him. He’s never experienced anything like this before, with anyone else. She was his first, in many ways. He also hoped she would be his last. If it was up to him, she would be. Will be.

She listened to every word he said, never breaking eye contact as they sat on his couch. When he was done, she let out a heavy sigh.

“That’s a lot.”

“Yeah.” He muttered, stroking her hand with his palm.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I wasn’t sure I could. For legal reasons if nothing else. And then there are your exams and the thing with Elijah… I just didn’t want to be a burden for you.” Ethan explained, turning towards her on the couch slightly as Claire got more and more agitated. “You probably should head back to the hospital. I’d hate for you to get caught up in this too.”

“Oh my god, stop!” She finally interrupted him, exclaiming a bit louder than she intended. Offering a quiet apology, she touched his wrist, continuing in a softer tone. “Stop trying to push me away. We’ve been through this, so many times before. I don’t want you to protect me, not like this. Not when it means you have to go through crap like this by yourself.”

“Claire…”

“If you really think that you can’t tell me everything about this then fine, but don’t pull this bullshit with me again. I’m right here. Don’t make me leave.” She gathered his face into her hands, eyes trying to read him. Her voice dropped to a shaky whisper. “I’m still here.”

Ethan stared at her for a prolonged moment, his gaze softening. He reached for her, squeezing her side gently. He sounded tired when he pleaded. “Don’t leave just yet.”

He finally pulled her into a kiss, slowly at first, then deeper, like a breath of fresh air filling their lungs. Leaning back onto the couch, he pulled her along with him, making them both recline into a horizontal position. Claire’s soft moan filled the air in the room, her hand trailing down his body slowly. Ethan’s fingers curled around her sides, their lips brushing in a suggestive manner – both knowing where it was leading.

“God, I- “ he groaned before he could filter his mind and she noticed. Claire grinned into the kiss, asking breathlessly.

“You what?”

He inhaled deeply, lifting one hand to brush her hair away from her face. He seemed stunned, as though he was seeing her for the first time. “I adore you.”

Claire smiled at him gently, stroking his hair. “How romantic of you.” she gave him a slow kiss, taking her time to drive him wild. Before either of them could get any forward ideas, she patted him on the shoulder playfully. “Slow down, cowboy, or I’m never going to make it back to work.”

“Would that be so bad?” he asked, kissing her hand.

“I ruined you.”

“Good.” Ethan smirked, moving his kisses to her neck. She began to get lost in him once again, slowly forgetting why she wanted them to stop in the first place, but eventually, she regained consciousness.

“How about I come back later? You’ll be able to continue with anything you want.” she offered, standing up to straighten her blouse. Ethan stared at her from his place on the couch, eyes trained on her every curve as his finger slid up her thigh.

“Just tell me when to pick you up.”

Notes

That was close, huh? As we are nearing the end of the series, Ethan is getting more... reckless? But also more daring with what he’s saying (unlike the slipup a few chapters back). And he realizes some things too. Ily is approaching - exactly in a week, if I’m not mistaken ;) 

The next chapter is called Teacher

Thank you so much for reading, see you soon!

Perrie <3

[footballxposts]

The Rest Of Our Lives - Mason Mount Series 🦋 (Chapter Three) Departure

Warnings: none but next chapter is smutty ;)

Recommended Listening: Forever by Labrinth (Slowed).

Taglist: @storyofavengers

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After releasing me from the hug I was immersed in, I quickly went to the bathroom whilst Mason waited patiently for me outside in the hallway. Once I had finished and came back out to meet him, the little smirk on his face made my heart so full. Maybe he really did miss me like he had said, but if so why didn’t he get in contact sooner? I guess he was afraid of the rejection but I really did wish he had still tried. At the end of the day, we only regret the chances we didn’t take. Of course I was still hurt by him, but I did want to give him his chance to explain everything, even if it meant we wouldn’t rekindle the friendship like it once was, and we would still go our separate ways again.

“You alright?,” he asked in a soft tone.

“Yeah..” I gave him a small smile before he nodded and took my hand leading me back upstairs to the nightclub’s centre-point. It was only at the top of the stairs that we were caught in our tracks by a stunning blonde-haired girl who had recognised my old best friend.

“Mase gorgeous, how are you? I haven’t heard from you or seen you in a while. I thought you might have fell of the face of the earth or something.” she piped up. His reaction was like a deer caught in headlights. Who the hell was this? I knew it wasn’t his girlfriend but she seemed to be someone who was at one stage more than just a friend like I was.

“Uh, hi Olivia, yeah..” he began to speak back to her. “I um, I’ve just been busy sorry, I’m good how are you?” he continued unconfidently, itching to get away from this current conversation.

“Too busy, huh?.” She raised her eyebrows and chuckled. I was standing there so awkwardly, not knowing what to do or where to look. She didn’t pay attention to me once, her eyes fixated on the brown-haired man beside me. “And here’s me thinking Mason Mount would never be too busy to reply or spend some time with me..” she gasped jokingly, but I knew she was being serious and I really didn’t like the vibe I was getting off her. My heart began shattering again out of jealousy. It’s amazing how you can go without seeing someone for years and even though they broke you, in an instant all the feelings and memories come rushing back. And that’s exactly what happened when I saw Mason on the street earlier this night. Even though it was /my/hand he was still holding, I still felt threatened.

“Awh no.. I mean.. I don’t know. I’m sorry as I said I’ve just been really busy,” was all he could come up with as a response, his palm becoming sweaty interlaced with my own. You know when you can feel your heart beating in another part of your body? I could feel his through his hand in my grasp.

“Hmm okay.” She said with barely any emotion behind it. “So who’s this little one then? Your new girl?” Her attention was now focused on me, now frozen with a tightness in my chest. I should have spoken up. I wanted to. But I was unable to. Thankfully, Mason covered for me.

“Uh, no she’s just a.. a friend..” he trailed off, so unsure of his answer and looking across at me, his eyes soliciting for an answer. Realistically, we were former friends. But within time, we both hoped we could drop the former. Slowly nodding as reassurance, I turned back to look at the the tall woman standing in front of me.

“Just friends?” her eyes widened with a smug look, pointing towards our intertwined fingers. I went to let go of Mason’s hand but his grip tightened, letting me know it was okay and he had the situation under control.

“Yeah this is my childhood best friend Sophie. I uh- I ran into her down outside the bathrooms and she wasn’t feeling the best so I said I’d bring her back upstairs and take her home. I just wanted to keep her close in case she fainted or anything.” he announced. Her eyes were now practically staring into my soul, but buying it, she just replied with an ‘oh’ and I signalled in agreement once again.

“Well, that was nice of you.” She smiled pompously. “Anyhoo, you have my number. Don’t be stranger.”

“Right.” Mason gulped and she winked walking away. Once gone, he turned to look at me again, apologising with his eyes. I bit my lip and shook my head to let him know that it was alright and that we didn’t have to talk about it. To be honest, I did want to talk about it. I wanted to know who she was. Was he sleeping with her? And if so was it going to progress any further? So many questions filled my mind but I tried to forget about them, telling myself that it was none of my business and it was before we had reconnected to night anyways.

Making our way over to Hollie, the look of disappointment across of her face said more than words ever could. She was relieved to see that I hadn’t gone missing, but she wasn’t too impressed that on my return I had brought back Mason with me. Giving me a moment to talk to her, Mason stepped away, resting his arm on the bar counter and facing the dance floor.

“What’s going on, are you okay? I went looking for you but I seen you talking to him from the top of the stairs and I didn’t want to interrupt.” She whispered sympathetically.

“Yeah I’m fine, thank you Hol. And I’m sorry I left you for so long.” I replied.

“No no, don’t be sorry. I was more than alright up here, I was talking to that bartender for ages anyways. I’m sorry Soph, I didn’t realise he would be here too. Is everything okay between you both?”

I wanted to say yes. But was everything okay between us both? I mean for now it was. I was giving him his opportunity to talk to me, but I hadn’t heard his side of the story yet nor had I forgiven him. Trying to find the right words to respond with, I took a deep breath.

“It’s not your fault Hollie, I was the one who said I wanted to come here in the first place. And I guess for now yeah. I’m giving him a chance to clear up everything and get some clarity on the whole thing. It doesn’t mean we’re going to go back to being how we were before but at least if we can be on civil terms.. I don’t know that’s got to be worth something right?” I asked, in hope of encouragement.

Hollie was the best friend a girl could ask for. She was more like a big sister despite me being older; a little dumb and clumsy at times, but no matter how many bad and possibly avoidable situations she put herself in, she would always make sure I didn’t do the same. She only wanted the best for me, as did I for her, so she basically made herself the crash test dummy and tried to advise me as much as possible. And she always made me laugh and smile without fail, after every heart break, every failure, basically anything terrible circumstance you can think of. She was always there.

“Well that’s your choice and I think it’s fair enough.” She gave me a fragile smile. “Just be smart and don’t let him hurt you again Soph. I seen how much pain and anguish you were in tonight and I never want to see you like that again. It’s alright that you want some light shed and some closure on the situation, but don’t let him blindside you and destroy your heart again, okay?” she raised her brows, placing both hands either side of my shoulders to make sure I was listening. Nodding to let her know I understood, she gave me a full warm smile back.

“Okay, so I think I’m going back to Dylan’s house once he’s finished his shift”. She added, referring to the bartender who was now waving at us. “But I don’t know what your plans are so I don’t have to if you don’t want me to and you need me.”

“No no, you go. I’ll find out what Mase and I are doing and once I’m back home and safe I’ll give you a text and let you know. If I need you at any stage I’ll call you.” I said before giving her a hug and getting ready to leave.

“Okay, I’ll do the same!” She mumbled, and with that I rejoined Mason who had finished informing his teammates and friends what was happening. Putting an arm around my waist, we had left the nightclub once again with crisp and fresh night air.

——————————————————————————-

Quick A/N: AHH I’m so excited for the next chapter you guys are gonna love it I hope! Also, the reason I put listening recommendations is to help you all imagine what I’m visualising when I right my stories and ideas! Music basically helps me set the scene. When you’re listening to the song attached to this post, I want y’all to try visualise yourself walking in slow-mo through a crowded nightclub holding hands with THE Mason Mount. Everyone looking at you both leaving, but he’s looking back every so often just to make sure you’re okay. Just imagine. That’s all :)

[robininthelabyrinth]

Delight in Misery (ao3) - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

- Chapter 8: Interlude -

Author note: This chapter is an interlude that contains JC/LWJ adult content. It can be skipped without impacting the remainder of the story.

-

“This is an idea so stupid that I can’t believe Wei Wuxian wasn’t that one to think of it,” Jiang Cheng said.

Lan Wangji didn’t disagree. If either of them had any sense whatsoever, they’d call off this whole idea before it was too late and they did something that permanently damaged the delicate balance of the life they’d built together forever – and they had, somehow, built a life together, cobbled together out of convenience and tragedy and the fact that no one else in this rotten world would understand what it was to miss someone like Wei Wuxian.

It was utter recklessness to throw it away for – what? Indulging some curiosity? Killing some time out of boredom, now that the Lotus Pier had finally quieted down enough for Jiang Cheng to no longer need to work from sunrise until sunset? Now that Lan Wangji didn’t have to hide himself away at all hours, afraid that someone would see him coming and going?

“You don’t even like me like that,” Jiang Cheng complained mutinously, and glared when Lan Wangji nodded in confirmation. “Wow. Thanks a lot.”

“We don’t have to proceed,” Lan Wangji pointed out.

“No, we’re doing this,” Jiang Cheng said at once, because he was contrary down to the last inch of him. “Take off your clothing already. No matter what the Lan sect may think, there are circumstances that call for not wearing four layers of clothing, and sex is definitely one of them.”

Because that was what they were apparently doing.

This was all Mo Xuanyu’s fault for leaving his books lying around – Jiang Cheng had finally succumbed to pressure and ordered his steward to get some for him – and in particular a spring book with pictures that went beyond the merely suggestive into the explicit. Jiang Cheng had picked it up while neatening up the room and gawked for enough time to make a cup of tea; when Lan Wangji had politely asked if he’d perhaps been abruptly struck blind by the contents and, if so, if there was any medicine he would like Lan Wangji to fetch for him, Jiang Cheng had instead turned to him and said, very frankly, “This cannot be a thing people actually do.”

Lan Wangji had, with great patience and an expression of intense suffering, held out his hands for the book.

The years following his awkward initial interaction with Wei Wuxian – the discovery of his own inclinations, the confirmation that they were irrevocably set in that way, his eventual acceptance of that fact – had led him to explore the more idiosyncratic portions of the Lan library. He was no longer the boy that had spluttered and cursed when tricked into looking at some (fairly run of the mill, in retrospect) pornography.

“Mm,” he’d said after a brief examination. “Real.”

“Impossible. Why would anyone -?”

Lan Wangji hadn’t bothered to dignify that with a response.

“It can’t possibly feel good,” Jiang Cheng had protested.

Lan Wangji had graced him with a pitying look. He hadn’t experienced the act in question with another person, of course, but his older brother had been perhaps unduly interested in ensuring that Lan Wangji had access to anything he might need to assuage his curiosity regarding his unorthodox affections, and, well, the Lan sect did always value a thorough approach to learning.

In other words, he’d read a lot.

It might have been left at that, a casual conversation between friends, except that Lan Wangji must have been suddenly possessed by the spirit of Wei Wuxian because he felt compelled to add, “Not that you would ever have a chance to find out.”

And that, of course, was that; once Jiang Cheng’s competitive instincts were awakened, there was absolutely nothing for it but a test to determine who was right.

Little details as to whether or not Jiang Cheng was even attracted to men enough for the question even to matter were dismissed as irrelevant.

And that was how they’d ended up here. About to go to bed. Together.

Though – perhaps that wasn’t exactly how it had started.

Perhaps it had started earlier, when Jiang Cheng had started helping Lan Wangji with those very particular physical reactions he’d had during the period he’d been too weak to do it himself, or perhaps when he’d continued to help him with it long after the trauma of it was no longer so near as to make it impossible for him to use his hands on himself.

Perhaps Lan Wangji should have been the one to stop that – the one to say no, no more, it’s unnecessary, thank you. But in those years of seclusion he had seen so few people, and seen Jiang Cheng most of all; he hadn’t quite been able to give up the desire for the touch of a human hand against his skin. To give up the intimacy of the act, for all that Jiang Cheng routinely brought him to completion as casually as if he were merely rebandaging his wounds, was simply impossible. Nothing could detract from the satisfaction he obtained, even if Jiang Cheng often spent the time talking about something else entirely, complaining about his day or a particularly irritating set of paperwork.

(There was a period in which Lan Wangji had briefly started to develop unsavory connections to the subject of dam rebuilding – luckily the dam project had ended before it had become a real problem.)

At minimum Lan Wangji should have put a stop to it once he was no longer secluded: when he had Lan Xichen’s embraces, gentle nudges from visiting Lan disciples, all the regular physical contact he had grown up with, and now all the casual affection that passed between Jiang sect disciples, of which he was considered an honorary member…it was more than enough to satisfy any skin hunger that might have been compelling him to continue with that inappropriate behavior that neither of them saw as important enough to name.

It had become a habit by then, though, a part of the routine, and the Lan sect thrived on routine.

“You have to remove yours as well,” he reminded Jiang Cheng, folding his clothing up neatly. If they had been lovers, perhaps Jiang Cheng would have been staring at him at this moment – perhaps he would have been tracing Lan Wangji’s body with his eyes, hunger and anticipation on his features – but they weren’t lovers. They were just friends, and that was why Jiang Cheng was fighting to get his shoe off (it had grown too small after too many washings and was starting to fall apart but he inexplicably refused to get new ones) instead of examining a body he’d seen naked a thousand times already during Lan Wangji’s slow recovery. “Do you –”

“If you offer to assist me, I will punch you,” Jiang Cheng threatened, and finally got the shoe off. “And if I hear one word about me needing to replace it –”

“You do.”

“It’s fine. It does the job! What else do you want from a shoe, damnit?” The other shoe was removed. “Leave me alone. I don’t need your help.”

The rest of his clothing came afterwards, tossed casually onto a chair, and Lan Wangji watched out of lack of anything better to do. In the years that had passed he had also seen Jiang Cheng’s body many times, an inevitable result of living across from each other in a place as hot as Yunmeng. Jiang Cheng was undeniably beautiful, all long lines and slender, his flesh marred by the discipline whip as Lan Wangji’s own had been, although in much lower quantity.

No, Lan Wangji concluded. This would not be the problem he had almost been concerned that it would be. For all that Lan Wangji’s heart belonged to Wei Wuxian and always would, his body had no objection to the idea of trying out something new.

“I assume at least some help is not unwelcome,” Lan Wangji said dryly, standing and walking over to put his hand on Jiang Cheng’s cock. At Jiang Cheng’s mild exclamation, Lan Wangji arched his eyebrows. “You can’t even do this? I may have overestimated your bravery.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jiang Cheng said, although he was clearly flustered; he reached out to assist Lan Wangji in the same manner. His palm was callused and warm, as always; Lan Wangji’s cock stirred at once at the familiar stimulus. “It’s been a while since it was someone else, that’s all.”

“You’ve had experience?”

“There’s no need to sound so skeptical about it. I was a teenager once too, you know; Wei Wuxian and I – hey, watch it!”

Lan Wangji relaxed his grip apologetically. “You did for Wei Ying as you do for me?” he asked, and didn’t even care when Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at his obvious and immediate fascination. It was a good thing that neither of them had any illusions about Wei Wuxian’s role in their friendship, the ghost of him that hung over it all; if they pretended otherwise, they might have hurt each other. “How did he..?”

“You’re not seriously asking me that question,” Jiang Cheng said, but of course Lan Wangji was.

Jiang Cheng glared at him, but Lan Wangji was patient, and as with all things relating to Jiang Cheng, his patience was rewarded.

“You’re a little more direct,” Jiang Cheng finally said, rolling his eyes once again to demonstrate how ridiculous he thought Lan Wangji was being. “You like long strokes, like this, very purposeful – his preference was a bit more playful. A bit of teasing around the head, like this, and then a bit with the thumb…listen, if you’re going to turn that shade of red this quickly, we’re going to have to call this whole idea off.”

“I can do more than once.”

“I’ll give you the whole rundown another time, you pervert,” Jiang Cheng promised, and Lan Wangji’s cock twitched at the thought of it. “Can we please focus on proving you horribly wrong already?”

“I’m not wrong.”

“So you say.”

Lan Wangji rolled his eyes and resumed moving his hand on Jiang Cheng’s cock. It felt nice in his hand, filling out as he stroked it. “Why?” he asked after a moment.

“Why what? Why did Wei Wuxian and I get each other off?”

“En.”

“We were young and stupid, obviously,” Jiang Cheng said. “He was my shixiong. We shared everything, figured everything out together…it wasn’t that weird, okay? It was just lending a friendly hand. Literally.”

Lan Wangji could imagine it. The scene sprang up fully formed in his eyes: Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian as he remembered them from the Cloud Recesses, cheeks still a little fat with youth and glistening from perspiration from the humid Yunmeng air, sitting together side-by-side on a bed with their hands in each other’s laps. Perhaps even the bed he slept in now, or Jiang Cheng’s. And perhaps even back then Jiang Cheng liked to talk of other things while he was performing the chore – his lessons, perhaps.

Perhaps they’d even done it for each other while they’d been at the Cloud Recesses…

“Did you do anything more?” he asked, licking suddenly dry lips.

Jiang Cheng blinked at him. “Like what?”

Perhaps it was petty to use their conversation as an excuse to step forward into Jiang Cheng’s personal space, to use his free hand to rub up and down his chest and tweak his nipples, to use teeth and tongue liberally on his neck, on his shoulder, his collarbone, until Jiang Cheng’s knees had grown so weak from surprise and pleasure that Lan Wangji had to loop his arm around his waist to help support him –

But if there was one thing Jiang Cheng had taught him in all these years, it was that there were times when being petty was the best possible option.

“Can I use my mouth on you?” he asked, and took the incoherent spluttering and vague hand-waving he received as a yes. “Sit down on the bed and lean back.”

Jiang Cheng obeyed without a single complaint, which Lan Wangji accepted as the compliment it was.

“I think I can definitively say no, just so you know,” he observed as Lan Wangji lowered himself down to his knees. “I did not do anything like this with Wei Wuxian.”

“Did you ever want to?” Lan Wangji asked, mildly curious, and then he leaned down and put his mouth on Jiang Cheng’s cock.

“Am I supposed to be having a conversation with you about this?” Jiang Cheng demanded, thrashing underneath his ministrations. Lan Wangji had to hold his hips down with his hands, using a little force. “Now?”

Lan Wangji purposefully stopped moving.

“You are a piece of shit, you know that?” Fingers made their way into Lan Wangji’s hair, careful to avoid his forehead ribbon as they lightly tugged – hmm, that was rather nice, actually. Lan Wangji mentally noted down the preference. “Fine. Ugh. No, I didn’t. It wasn’t like that. It really did just start out innocent, you know. Us being boys and all, measuring the difference in size and all –”

Jiang Cheng paused and rolled his eyes down at Lan Wangji, who had perhaps overly demonstrated his interested in hearing more.

“– yes, you obsessed stalker, I’m getting there. He was longer, I was wider; we called it a tie. Later on, we got drunk and started talking about how we were both worried that we were doing it wrong, except, you know, that would have been way too embarrassing…you know how we were. It turned into a dumb sort of competition about who could do it better, which one of us was the one doing it wrong, who was doing it right – we got into a lot of stupid contests like that.”

A brief pause.

“Don’t say that I’m stating the obvious.”

Lan Wangji’s mouth was full, which was probably the only reason he wasn’t. He really had lost all sense of self-control when it came to deliberately irritating Jiang Cheng, and he wasn’t sure when that had happened. His uncle would be disappointed in him again.

Good.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Jiang Cheng muttered. He’d gotten into the groove of things, his hips rocking slightly as Lan Wangji sucked him, careful not to go too far or too fast for fear of making Lan Wangji gag again – though to be fair, that had been mostly Lan Wangji’s fault for being overly ambitious in trying to take him in too deep that time. The real thing really wasn’t anything like the jade pillar he’d practiced on. “This is ridiculous. You’d better never expect me to do this for you. No way.”

Lan Wangji didn’t bother responding.

“I mean, I guess if my hands were broken. It’s not like I couldn’t do it. I’ve put worse things in my mouth, over the years.”

No response was necessary. Jiang Cheng’s complex about needing to be the best at everything – or at least skilled enough to be respected – was truly a fearsome thing.

Though speaking of which...

Lan Wangji reached with one hand to pull over the small packet of thickened, scented oil that he’d obtained long ago, dipping his fingers into it and working one finger, then another, into Jiang Cheng.

“How do you even think of these things?” Jiang Cheng complained, because he wouldn’t be Jiang Cheng if he didn’t complain. “You must have done nothing but read spring books day and night – hey, wait! What are you doing? I’m going to be the one on top! Not you!”

Lan Wangji hummed and removed his mouth – Jiang Cheng whined in complaint – and then lifted one of Jiang Cheng’s legs, pressing his cock against him. He didn’t get a fist in the face, even when he rocked back and forth teasingly, his cock sliding right up to Jiang Cheng’s slicked-up entrance and then away.

“…just go ahead and do it already!”

Lan Wangji’s analytical mind temporarily blanked out when he pushed inside. It was hot and tight around him, squeezing him – it felt good. Very good.

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng said. His voice was a little unstable, almost breathy. “Fuck.”

“If you insist,” Lan Wangji said, and began moving his hips before Jiang Cheng could correct him. Jiang Cheng grunted as if the sound had been punched out of him. Fucked out of him. “How is it?”

“Why are you asking me, don’t you already – Lan Wangji. You said the picture in the book was realistic.”

Lan Wangji hummed in agreement.

“I assumed that meant you’d done it before.”

That seemed like a Jiang Cheng problem.

“Lan Wangji! Are you saying you don’t know what you’re doing?!”

“I’ve read a lot of spring books,” Lan Wangji said dryly, and started to really put his back into it, long thrusts that felt fantastic to him and from the looks of it not all that bad to Jiang Cheng, either. After a few thrusts, he apparently hit the place described in the books, if he were judging by Jiang Cheng’s sudden moans and a notable increasing in generalized cursing, as opposed to cursing his name in specific.

Lan Wangji finished first, which increased the amount of cursing by a significant degree.

“I can’t believe you –!”

“Would you like to finish in my mouth?”

“It is,” Jiang Cheng hissed at him, “the very least you could do!”

Jiang Cheng was much less polite this time as he fucked his way into Lan Wangji’s mouth, his hands firmly gripping Lan Wangji’s hair and pulling him into place, forcing his way deeper with brutal snaps of his hips.

Despite having recently been wrung dry, Lan Wangji’s cock did its best to give an interested twitch, and Lan Wangji noted that down as well. Perhaps next time he should encourage Jiang Cheng to be the one on top, to see if he would enjoy the sensation more if it was someone else doing the fucking rather than a toy carved out of jade. After all, Jiang Cheng had certainly responded well enough to it.

Lan Wangji was moderately sure there would be another time. Jiang Cheng was not a man motivated by sex – remarkably so, in fact. If anything, he seemed to view physical pleasure, even at his own hand, as a perfectly decent activity, but nothing worth kicking up a fuss over, little different from a massage or a round of acupuncture; neither something especially desirable nor repulsive. As Jiang Cheng himself had admitted, he hadn’t experienced the touch of another since his youthful experimentation with Wei Wuxian, even though Lan Wangji was well aware that he’d received plenty of offers from all types of types of people over the years, and yet the lack hadn’t seemed to bother him.

If not for Lan Wangji, he probably would have continued on with his life without thinking about it any further, either, except perhaps in the theoretical box in his mind that he’d earmarked for having a wife, which he seemed to want only because everyone was expected to want a wife.

That competitive streak again.

But he did have Lan Wangji, who was not naturally inclined towards abstinence, and now that they’d opened the door to having a friendship that included certain additional benefits, he had no intention of shutting that door absent any indication from Jiang Cheng that it no longer suited him.

After all, Jiang Cheng might yet have a wife one day, assuming a patient enough marvel could be found – but Lan Wangji was a Lan, born and bred true, and he would only have one love in his life; he had fallen long ago, chosen long ago. Wei Wuxian was gone, and he would never regret it, nor love another. It had been living with Jiang Cheng, being friends with him, that had taught him to remember joy; what was this, then, but more of the same?

Of course, that was assuming that Jiang Cheng would agree in the future to sate Lan Wangji’s rather prodigious appetites with more than just his hand. He might not. After all, it really wasn’t his area of interest –

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng abruptly said.

Lan Wangji, who was fetching a wet cloth, turned to look at him.

Jiang Cheng was propped up on his elbows, scowling bitterly. “You know what,” he said. “We didn’t even manage to do the right position! The one in the spring book was more – more twisty – you know – with the leg up in the air like that –”

“…mm,” Lan Wangji said. “We’ll do better next time.”

“You’re smirking,” Jiang Cheng said suspiciously. “Why are you smirking? What are you up to?!”

“Nothing,” Lan Wangji said peaceably, putting down the cloth and picking up the oil. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right! I’m – I’m not usually right. Or at least, you don’t normally admit it when I’m right. What am I right about?”

“Did it wrong,” Lan Wangji said, and settled down again. “Need to try again.”

“Try – wait, now? Already?! You can’t be serious!”

Lan Wangji started rearranging limbs. “You’re already prepared,” he pointed out. “‘Avoid needless waste.’”

“Don’t you quote your Lan sect rules at me, Lan Wangji! You’re inhuman! You’re – ah!”

He’d slid right in that time, Lan Wangji observed, all at once in a single smooth slide that made Jiang Cheng moan and his cock start to fill up again; the ease of it must be due to how relaxed Jiang Cheng’s body was after he’d come, and the slickness of both the oil left behind and the new amount he’d added. Definitely a different experience from the previous time, but equally enjoyable.

Well, as he’d said before – the Lan sect always did value a thorough approach to learning.

[bloody-bee-tea]

JC Love Month 2020 Day 27

Crimson

Day 27 of JC Love Month brings more of the AU where he lives with the Nie's. JC tries his very hardest to please them and he is absolutely overdoing it, resulting in his collapse. NMJ is not amused. This follows Day 9 of JC Love Month.

Jiang Cheng’s head is throbbing. He knows it’s his own fault, knows what a stress induced headache feels like, but he can’t do anything to change it.

He has one test coming up and he still has a paper to hand in. There’s no time for him to relax or even slow down.

Jiang Cheng has to ace those two things, or otherwise his grade will drop and he can’t do that to Nie Mingjue.

He is already paying for Jiang Cheng’s studies. The least Jiang Cheng can do is do well in his courses so that Nie Mingjue isn’t disappointed with him.

When a particularly bad wave of pain hits Jiang Cheng he closes his eyes against it and bows his head, but he forces himself to straighten back up a few moments later.

He has to hand in the paper today, so that he can concentrate on studying for the test. He has a plan and every minute of his day is already occupied. 

Jiang Cheng cannot slack off because there is simply no time for that.

He forces his eyes open again, and tries his best to concentrate on his reading. He has most of the information for his paper ready, but he still needs one or two more sources, before he feels like he has enough and so he continues reading.

Retaining the things he’s reading is getting progressively harder, the further down the page he gets, but Jiang Cheng only shakes his head when his thoughts drift off.

It doesn’t help with his headache, but Jiang Cheng grits his teeth against the pain.

When his vision goes black he thinks it might be time for a break—he did pencil in those—but then he realizes that he only has to read two more pages and he thinks it’s stupid to stop before he finished that.

So he goes on, at least right until a crimson spot appears on the page. 

Jiang Cheng frowns and blinks his eyes a few times, thinking that it’s just another headache induced vision, but when nothing happens, Jiang Cheng tries to swipe it away.

When it smears over the page, Jiang Cheng realizes that it’s blood.

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng mutters, as he raises his hand to check his nose and when that comes away red as well, he figures that maybe this isn’t good at all.

He reaches for his phone, his first instinct to call Nie Mingjue, but then he remembers that he is on a work thing this evening. Jiang Cheng debates calling Nie Huaisang or Mo Xuanyu, but they are with Nie Mingjue—Nie Huaisang in whatever capacity he holds at Nie Corps and Mo Xuanyu as his boyfriend—and so those two are not an option either.

Jiang Cheng briefly thinks about calling Jiang Yanli or Wei Wuxian, but he doesn’t want to worry or disturb their evening, so in the end Jiang Cheng calls for a didi.

He can make it to the hospital by himself. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Jiang Cheng makes a detour to the bathroom to get some paper that he can press to his nose, before he walks outside.

It’s taking more time than it really should, because Jiang Cheng is really damn unstable on his feet, but eventually he makes it to the sidewalk.

He blinks when he realizes that he didn’t turn off the light in the house, and he just hopes that he at least closed the front door behind him, but all of a sudden Jiang Cheng is too tired to turn around to check.

Jiang Cheng sinks to the ground, hoping that the driver of the didi will still see him and then he must lose a little bit of time, because suddenly there’s a car in front of him and someone is speaking frantically to him.

“--call the ambulance,” the guy says and that finally jolts Jiang Cheng out of his stupor.

“No,” he whispers and reaches out for the guy. “Just drive me to the hospital, it’ll be fine,” Jiang Cheng says and even though his vision is really blurry and spotty he can tell that the guy doesn’t seem that convinced.

“Promise,” Jiang Cheng tells him and then forces himself to stand up.

He manages it without keeling over so he counts it as a win.

“See?” he then asks and going by the concerned look on the driver’s face, he doesn’t see at all.

But thankfully the driver bundles him up into the car, and then they go off. Jiang Cheng loses a little bit of time yet again, because between one blink and the next they are already at the hospital.

“Thanks, man,” Jiang Cheng whispers as he gets out on unsteady feet, and it’s only the driver who appears suddenly by his side who stops him from face-planting right into the ground.

“Come on,” the driver says and leads Jiang Cheng into the hospital.

Jiang Cheng has just enough time to wonder if he brought his wallet so that the staff can at least identify him, before everything goes black.

~*~*~

When Jiang Cheng wakes up, everything is blurry and cotton-candy soft. He blinks a few times, but his body doesn’t respond like he wants it too and in the end Jiang Cheng figures it’s too much strain anyway.

He is coherent enough to realize that he’s in the hospital and that is enough for him.

Sleep seems like the better alternative anyway.

~*~*~

The next time Jiang Cheng wakes up, his room is golden and bright and Jiang Cheng squints as he looks around.

There’s no one in the room, and Jiang Cheng nods to himself because this is what he expected.

He didn’t think to update his emergency contacts yet and of course his parents wouldn’t bother to come by, not after everything that happened.

Not that they did before, Jiang Cheng bitterly thinks but then he pushes those thoughts far away.

He chides himself for being disappointed that no one else is in the room as well, because how would anyone else even know to visit him when no one has been informed about him being in the hospital, and in the end it’s just easier to fall asleep again than to pretend that he’s not foolishly hurt over this.

~*~*~

The third time Jiang Cheng wakes up, he wakes up to people talking in his room. Jiang Cheng is tempted to ignore them, because he thinks they are doctors talking about his general state of health, but then he recognizes Nie Huaisang’s voice and Mo Xuanyu’s and the hummed answer from right beside his bed is no doubt coming from Nie Mingjue and it’s surprising enough that Jiang Cheng opens his eyes.

Nie Mingjue is sitting on a chair next to his bed, while Nie Huaisang and Mo Xuanyu are lounging around on a couch that Jiang Cheng is pretty sure wasn’t there when he woke up the first two times.

“What’s going on? What are you doing here?” he croaks out and when all eyes turn to him, he wishes he kept quiet.

“You absolute asshole,” Nie Huaisang hisses and Jiang Cheng tries to hide under his blanket at his harsh tone.

“Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue chastises him. “There will be time for that in the room.”

Jiang Cheng presses his lips together when Nie Huaisang nods at that, because he seems honestly excited to yell at Jiang Cheng.

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng gets out. “You don’t have to be here, I know you must be busy.”

Silence follows his words, all three of them simply staring at Jiang Cheng and just when it’s about to become too much for Jiang Cheng Nie Huaisang speaks up again.

“What the actual fuck,” he says. “Do you really think we’re upset over that?” he demands to know and Mo Xuanyu puts a hand to his arm, clearly trying to calm him down.

“We come home to an empty house, lights on everywhere, blood on the ground, you nowhere to be seen and you think we’re upset over having to sit here?”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to say to that, except to apologize yet again, and since that wasn’t appreciated the first time, he opts to stay silent.

“Huaisang, go home for now,” Nie Mingjue says with a meaningful look at Mo Xuanyu, who seems to understand because he gets up and tugs a reluctant Nie Huaisang along.

“Da-ge, he can’t just do that,” Nie Huaisang calls over his shoulder before Mo Xuanyu drags him completely out of the room and Nie Mingjue only hums at that.

“I didn’t realize I was bleeding so much. I’m sorry you had to clean that up,” Jiang Cheng mutters when Nie Mingjue doesn’t say anything once the door closes behind Nie Huaisang and Mo Xuanyu.

“That is really not the problem, Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue says with a sigh and he almost sounds disappointed which only makes Jiang Cheng feel worse.

“I’m so—” Jiang Cheng starts but then cuts himself off. “What is the problem?” he finally dares to ask, because he thinks that he’s not going to figure this one out on his own.

“Wanyin, we came home and you weren’t there, even though there was light on anywhere. We came home and you weren’t there and instead there was blood,” Nie Mingjue says and he finally looks up.

He seems hurt, rather than angry, and Jiang Cheng doesn’t really understand what’s going on anymore.

“We were worried something happened to you,” Nie Mingjue finally says when he seems to understand that Jiang Cheng is not getting what he wants to say.

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng whispers out and then forces a smile on his face. “But I’m fine.”

“You’re in the hospital,” Nie Mingjue says with emphasis. “I fail to see how that equates to being fine.”

“I’m—I mean—it’s not so bad?” Jiang Cheng tries next but he falls silent when Nie Mingjue glares at him.

“You collapsed out of sheer exhaustion,” Nie Mingjue tells him and pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a long breath. “Why won’t you talk to us?” he then asks, his voice quiet and Jiang Cheng can feel tears prick at his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” he admits, fiddling with his blanket and unable to meet Nie Mingjue’s eyes.

“What’s going on, Wanyin?” Nie Mingjue asks and he says it with so much feeling that Jiang Cheng starts to cry.

Nie Mingjue doesn’t say anything to that, but he gathers Jiang Cheng up in his arms, simply holding him until he feels at least a little bit stable.

“I had a test and a paper due this week,” Jiang Cheng finally whispers and he feels close to panicking when he realizes that he probably already missed the deadlines for those.

“Relax,” Nie Mingjue says and puts his hand to Jiang Cheng’s neck. “We called your professor, you got an extension, it’s no problem at all,” he reassures him and Jiang Cheng presses the heels of his hands to his eyes.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he sobs out. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble, and I promise I’ll do well on both the test and the paper, please don’t think I’m ungrateful.”

“I would never think that,” Nie Mingjue softly tells him and moves his hand to cup Jiang Cheng’s cheek in it, forcing Jiang Cheng to take his hands away from his face.

“Wanyin, if I had known that you would put yourself under so much pressure, I would have never agreed to send you back to school,” Nie Mingjue says and Jiang Cheng crumbles under his words.

“I’m not disappointed,” Nie Mingjue carefully goes on. “I just wanted you to enjoy learning something that you are actually interested in. It’s not important to me if you get perfect grades, as long as you enjoy it,” he tells Jiang Cheng who doesn’t completely understand.

“But I have to be among the best,” he weakly says, hoping to convey to Nie Mingjue that he knows what expectations rest on him, that he knows he has to do better.

It’s not that he’s not trying. It’s just that he’s not good enough.

“You don’t,” Nie Mingjue easily tells him. “As long as you pass your classes, I don’t care,” he promises and Jiang Cheng gapes at him.

“What?” he whispers, because this cannot be true.

It was never enough for Jiang Cheng to just pass something.

“I don’t hold the same expectations as your parents,” Nie Mingjue says. “And I don’t hold you to the same standards. All I want for you is to enjoy what you’re learning.” There’s a brief pause. “Are you?” Nie Mingjue then asks and Jiang Cheng nods his head.

“I am,” he immediately says, because he does enjoy his classes, now that he got to choose them on his own, but he never dared to think that, too afraid that he would slack off, simply enjoying his classes.

“Then that’s all I need,” Nie Mingjue promises him and pulls him into another hug. “Please don’t ever scare us like this again,” Nie Mingjue whispers into his hair and Jiang Cheng clings to him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think,” Jiang Cheng gives back and buries his face in Nie Mingjue’s shoulder. “How did you even find me?” he then thinks to ask, because he didn’t update his emergency contact and no one here at the hospital should have known him or where he’s staying.

“A friend of mine, Wen Qing, she’s a doctor at another hospital,” Nie Mingjue explained. “I wanted to call the police but I wanted to know if you’re in the hospital first. I had her call this hospital as it was closest and pretend to need some information about you.”

“I see,” Jiang Cheng nods, and promises himself to update the emergency contact as soon as he is home.

“Wanyin, why did some of the nurses ask me why you’re here again? With the same symptoms even?” Nie Mingjue suddenly carefully asks and Jiang Cheng freezes.

“I—that was—” he starts, but he doesn’t know how to finish.

“Did it happen when you were still with your parents?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and Jiang Cheng nods miserably, glad that his face is still hidden.

“Last year,” he admits. “I collapsed at home, due to stress and overworking myself. I woke up here as well,” he says but then he lets out a bitter chuckle. “Except that back then, the only visitor was my mother, who brought me my homework.”

Jiang Cheng can feel how Nie Mingjue tenses at those words and then he pushes Jiang Cheng away so that he can look him in the eye.

“Is that why you said we don’t have to be here? Is that why you were so surprised to see us?”

“Yes?” Jiang Cheng gives back, wincing when he sees the thunderous expression on Nie Mingjue’s face.

“Let me guess, then: you also didn’t call us at the function, because you thought it would be a bother.”

“I’m not supposed to disturb my parents during work things,” Jiang Cheng whispers.

“But we are not your parents,” Nie Mingjue gives back and takes Jiang Cheng’s hand in his. “We are your family and we would have absolutely left the function the moment you told us to. We would have come back immediately and we would have cared for you like family should and we would not have been mad,” Nie Mingjue says with emphasis and Jiang Cheng has to swallow against the lump in his throat.

“I see,” he mumbles and Nie Mingjue squeezes his hand.

“Do you really?” he softly asks and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“I hear you, but it might be a while before I can do it,” Jiang Cheng admits and Nie Mingjue lets out a sigh.

“Fine. But please work on it, Wanyin, I never want to be this scared again.”

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng says when he realizes just what distress he must have caused them, but Nie Mingjue shakes his head before he cups Jiang Cheng’s cheek again.

“Just promise to work on it. Ask if you are unsure. We can always say no, right?”

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng nods, even though he knows himself well enough to know that it will be quite a while before he can even bring himself to do that, but it seems to appease Nie Mingjue.

“How long do I have for the paper?” Jiang Cheng then asks, because the thought has been nagging at the back of his head all this time.

“I will inform your professor when you are well enough again to work on it, and then you’ll have a week,” Nie Mingjue answers and Jiang Cheng frowns.

“That doesn’t seem right.”

“That’s what he agreed to,” Nie Mingjue replies and Jiang Cheng has to smile at his tone.

It probably wasn’t entirely voluntarily, then.

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng whispers and leans forward to hug Nie Mingjue again.

“That’s what family does, Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue says into his hair and then presses a kiss there, too. “Now you concentrate on getting better and then you’ll take it easy, alright?”

“I’ll try,” Jiang Cheng gives back, because he is so used to having to overwork himself, that it will surely be an adjustment to simply not do that every once in a while.

But if Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang and Mo Xuanyu stay by his side, then he’s sure he can manage it.

Next part

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[emilyhufflepufftlk]

Drunk, Miserable, & Lonely | Finan x OC (Lucinda)

MASTERLIST

For the @tlkfanficfest bingo, prompt tavern.

Finan spends an evening alone in the ale house whilst Lucinda is away and one of the barmaids takes a fancy to him.

For those who read Touched by Fire, this fits between chapters 19 and 20, although you don’t need to have read it to read this. 💕

Word Count: 1054

Warnings: mild smut?, alcohol.

It had been a long day and Finan found himself slumped over the table, a jug of ale in front of him in the crowded alehouse. He’d come with Sihtric but he had gone home to his wife hours ago. So he sat alone, and drank. He was in a miserable mood, the wound in his shoulder causing him much more pain than he would admit to anyone. It wasn’t so much the pain that was the cause of his foul mood, but rather the fact that it prevented him from doing anything vaguely interesting. He was stuck helping Uhtred look over the estate accounts and overseeing the training of the new recruits, but not being able to take part himself. He had nothing against hard work, coming home exhausted and aching from a long day’s graft was what he had become used to. What he couldn’t stand was boredom. The day seemed to never end, dragging on from one monotonous task to the next.

It was made worse by the fact that Lucinda wasn’t around, being sent on an errand to Mercia by Uhtred. He had moved in with her and her daughter, Saara, only a couple of weeks earlier, however he had gotten used his new surroundings. He liked sharing a home with them and enjoyed waking up to Lucinda next to him even more. They were taking things slow, not having laid together yet, but he didn’t mind, having her in his arms and knowing she was his was enough.

As the evening drew on, it became clear that he had drank rather more than perhaps he ought have. His mind was becoming fuzzy and the world span a little if he lifted his head up too quick. What also came apparent was that one of the barmaids seemed to have a thing for him, not that he paid too much attention to her. She was pretty, he guessed, with long dark hair, but he was very much in love with Lucinda so turned his attention back to his ale.

He gestured to the bar for someone to bring him more ale – not the brightest idea he had ever had, but he was already drunk, what was a little bit more ale going to do? The darkhaired barmaid came over, bringing another jug of ale with her. She placed the jug in front of him, but to his annoyance didn’t leave. ‘You look lonely, lord,’ she said seductively, gently running her finger over his temple.

He shrugged her off. ‘I’m fine, thank ya’,’ he said, slurring his words slightly.

She ignored him, moving to sit on his lap with her arm around his neck. She ran her fingers through his hair lightly and pressed her body against his. ‘You don’t look fine, lord,’ she told him, batting her eyelashes at him. ‘Perhaps you could do with some company?’

He watched as she traced her finger along his jaw, her face close to his. He would be lying if he wasn’t a little tempted, he was drunk, miserable and lonely, but as pretty as she was, she wasn’t Lucinda. ‘I said I’m fine,’ he reiterated gruffly, shrugging her hand away. ‘I’m sure you’ve got other customers who need ya’ attention.’

The woman stayed sitting on his lap, how mouth drawn into a thin line as she stared at him. He thought that she would refuse to leave when a voice behind them got the woman’s attention. ‘He said he’s fine. Now leave.’ Lucinda’s calm voice carried across the room. By the look of fear on the barmaid’s face he guessed she had the look she used when she was ready for a fight, no doubt having a hand hovering on the hilt of her sword for good measure. The image made him smile.

The barmaid quickly left, hurrying over to the opposite side of the alehouse with nothing but a scowl in Lucinda’s direction. ‘Hello, mo grá,’ he slurred, smiling up at her as she came and stood beside where he was sitting.

‘I’m sorry if I… interrupted something,’ she replied dryly, glancing over to where the dark haired barmaid was now laughing with some other customers.

‘Of course not, in fact I’m glad ya’ came when ya’ did, or she might never have left!’ Finan pulled her into his lap, catching her slightly by surprise. ‘You’re the only woman I want, I swear!’ he said emphatically, wrapping his arms around her and keeping her close. ‘You’re my woman and I’m ya’ man.’

She smiled, wrapping an arm around his neck. ‘I know, but that won’t stop other women from trying.’

He groaned, pulling her into a fierce kiss. ‘Then we’ll have to show them that I’m spoken for, eh?’ he murmured against her lips before moving and kissing along her jaw and down her neck. His hands ran along her thighs, moving higher and higher.

‘Finan…’ she moaned as his hand grazed along her centre through the fabric of her trousers. ‘Not here, people will see.’

‘Let ‘em,’ he muttered, ‘let ‘em know ya’ mine.’

‘How much have you drunk?’ she asked sceptically pulling his hands away from her slightly and giving him a stern look.

‘Not that much,’ he muttered.

‘Hmmm, well I think you have had quite enough.’

‘Hey!’ he whined as she took the jug of ale away from him, chugging half of it herself.

She climbed off his lap, an affectionate look in her eyes as she observed him. ‘Come on, lets go home.’ He took the hand she offered, pulling him to his feet and causing him to sway slightly as the world seemed to spin around him. Lucinda laughed, shaking her head before wrapping an arm around him and supporting him as they walked across the alehouse.

As they walked home along the deserted streets of Coccham, the cool night air seemed to sober Finan up a bit, clearing his head. ‘I’m sorry if I got a bit carried away in there. I didn’t mean to make ya’ uncomfortable.’

‘You didn’t,’ she reassured him, before a cheeky smile grew across her face, ‘in fact I rather enjoyed it. Perhaps next time you’ll actually be able to remember it the next morning?’

‘Next time?’ he grinned.

‘Oh shut up. Come on, you need to get in bed.’

Tagging: @morosemagick @magravenwrites @solinarimoon @obipoelover @lauwrite1225 @thebohemianpenguin @93xdiagonxalley @axe-does-writing @evelynshelby @webreathfandoms @iamfandomnerd @trenko-heart

[harrygroves]

a simple favor - chapter five

part four

“Billy, get on the horse.”

“Steve, for the tenth time, I am not getting on that thing.” Billy repeats, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why not?” Steve asks, atop his own horse, growing impatient.

“Look at what you’re on, Steve. That thing is huge.”

“Yes, they are, but it’s safe. I swear.” Steve promises.

“Nope. No fucking way. I’ll pass on this.”

Steve gives him a murderous smile, talking through clenched teeth. “Billy, my mother is watching through the window, alright? Get on mine then, just come on!”

Billy looks over his shoulder, back at the house where Mrs. Harrington is indeed watching them.

He turns back to Steve. “You want me to ride with you?” He asks.

“If you won’t ride on your own then you can ride with me.” Steve replies with a shrug.

Billy deflates, defeated. “Fine, but I’m not wearing the stupid fucking helmet.” He snaps before approaching Steve and his horse.

It’s a big, strong looking American Quarter (according to Steve) horse with soft brown hair and black, inky eyes. Billy has never been this close to a horse before and it’s scaring the absolute shit out of him.

Steve instructs him. “Right, so put your foot there, and grab here and hoist yourself up.”

Billy does so with shaky hands and the horse moves while he hoists, and it freaks him the hell out and he settles behind Steve, wrapping his arms around Steve’s middle tightly.

Billy can feel the laugh vibrate through Steve’s body. “Wow, you’re really scared, aren’t you?” Steve says.

“Yes, I am not just trying to grope you, I am in fact, fucking terrified right now.”

“Well, then you’re not going to like this.” Steve says before making a loud noise and kicking the horse.

“Oh my god, oh my god.” Billy shouts into the back of Steve’s neck as they take off.

Galloping. They’re fucking galloping.

Billy’s going to murder him.

*

He doesn’t get used to it, not for a single second and when Steve finally slows the horse to a light trot, he realizes his body is rigid and unmoving and it takes a great deal of effort to untangle his arms from Steve. His limbs are stiff, but he can’t fully let go of Steve; he’s the only thing keeping him on the fucking horse, so he settles for lightly gripping his sides.

“I h-hate you.” Billy sputters out, voice shaking.

“Aww, sweetie. Love you too.” Steve replies cheekily over his shoulder.

Billy had kept closing his eyes while riding, and hadn’t fully looked around him. They were in a meadow, near a pond, a couple ducks gliding along the water.

Steve leads the horse to the water and lets it drink. Billy tries to stop trembling but it’s not going away.

“So, how do you think this is going?” Steve asks nonchalantly.

“I fucking hate it.” Billy snaps.

“No, not the horse, you dolt, the plan.” Steve bites back.

“Oh. Uh. I don't know. Fine I guess. Your parents are a fucking nightmare, but you warned me about that. Do you think they’re buying it?”

Steve is quiet for a moment. The horse shakes it head around, steps back and moves forward a couple times and Billy finds himself gripping Steve’s sides harder.

“I think mom is too mad to look any deeper.” Steve finally says. “I can’t read dad. I’ll have to ask Robin.”

“What do you mean?” Billy scrunches his nose, confused.

“I mean, I’m not gonna actually ask, like, do you think dad is buying this?, but I’ll ask her if dad likes you.”

“He’d tell her?”

Steve nods. “They talk a lot more than he and I do.”

“Oh.” Billy says, feeling an awkward silence fall between them.

The silence is broken by Steve kicking the horse again and they’re off, Billy letting out a surprised, scared sound and wrapping his arms around Steve again.

*

After Billy gets off the horse, his legs feel like jelly. Steve brings the horse to the stable and takes the time to brush it, cooing and whispering at the thing like it’s a human child. Billy smokes a cigarette and rolls his eyes.

Finally Steve is done and they make their way back into the house.

Robin runs into them in the hallway and asks how it went.

“Lovely.” Steve says at the same time Billy says, “Fucking awful.”

Robin laughs, a deep-belly sound that actually makes Billy smile. She’s genuinely a fun person to be around and Billy’s starting to like her.

“What are you guys doing the rest of the day?” She asks once the laughing subsides.

“Probably prepping him for another interrogation at dinner.” Steve says with a long, tired eye-roll.

Like an afterthought, Steve reaches over and takes Billy’s hand, squeezing it lightly. The exchange might appear as though Steve was trying to comfort Billy, so Billy smiles at him slightly before the attention goes back to Robin.

“Alright, fine, but I want a day with him.” Robin says, crossing her arms.

“Uh. What?” Steve says, dropping Billy’s hand.

“Oh c’mon, Steve. The last guy you brought here was, like, two years ago. And I didn’t even get to know him. Let Billy and I hang.”

“I...don't...uh...stories!” Steve blurts out. “You’ll tell a bunch of embarrassing stories, and I won’t allow it.”

Billy wants to facepalm. He wants to cry. Steve is so bad at this.

“Sweetie -- ” Billy starts with a sickening smile. “ -- I think it’s a great idea. It’ll be fine. Promise.”

Billy reaches an arm over and wraps it around Steve, does it casually like it’s a common occurrence. Steve is tense beside him, mouth pursed and Billy can tell he’s not happy with this plan.

“Yay!” Robin claps her hands together. “We can curl each other’s hair and talk boys.” She says with a wink before saying goodbye and leaving them.

Steve shakes out of Billy’s arm and gives him a mean look. “You’re such an asshole.” He grumbles lowly.

“Aww, c’mon Stevie. We had a barely tolerable afternoon, don't ruin it.”

“I fucking hate you.” Steve continues, storming away.

“Steve? Steve! Wait for me! Seriously, I’m not getting lost in the Winchester Mystery House.” Billy shouts, running after him.

*

They’re arguing in Steve’s room.

Steve does not want Billy spending alone time with Robin.

Billy doesn’t understand why.

“It shouldn’t matter why.” Steve tells him, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m paying you for a job, and this is not a requirement for that job.”

“Jeez, boss. Re-lax.” Billy says, laying on the bed.

“She’s going to...look, she’s going to tell you a bunch of stupid stories and I don't need you knowing anymore about me, other than the totally necessary shit for this stupid charade.”

Billy snorts. “A charade you designed.”

“I will fucking suffocate you tonight, I swear to god.”

“I honestly think you could with these pillows.” Billy mentions airily. He sits up. “Look, dude, this is stupid. I don't care what she says, I literally will not absorb any of it, swear. Unless it’s incredibly humiliating and I can use it against you in the future.”

Steve’s eyes are daggers and he looks like he wants to yell. Instead he stalks into the bathroom and slams the door.

*

Dinner is another awkward affair and Steve is mad at him, which makes it much worse. Robin keeps looking between them with interest. Billy tries to keep up appearances and puts his hand on Steve’s leg. Steve roughly shoves it off.

It’s like the kid forgot why Billy was even there.

Irritated, he cuts into his steak and eats angrily.

After dinner, Steve and Billy excuse themselves. They go back to Steve’s room, and Billy takes off his clothes, leaving him in boxers, before slipping into bed without a word.

Steve turns the television off but keeps it low. Billy isn’t facing him but he can tell Steve is still pissed. So is he.

Whatever.

*

The next morning Billy is plastered against Steve, one arm underneath him. Their legs are tangled together, hips touching. They’re both hard in their boxers. At some point last night, Steve had changed into a black-and-white striped tank top and taken his pants off.

The weight of Steve against him is comfortable and weird at the same time. His hair smells good. The tank top has ridden up, revealing mole-speckled skin. His mouth is open and the stale stench of morning breath wafts out, but Steve’s lazy, almost pleasant expression is what Billy is more focused on.

It’s nice.

It’s actually kind of nice.

Billy wants to kiss him.

Fuck.

This is...not good.

If he kissed Steve, would Steve wake up?

Would he kiss Billy back?

Would something else happen?

Billy zones out for a moment, thinking about that, but then realizes he absolutely cannot think about it any further because heat is pooling down his back, down his front and he has the overwhelming urge to grind against Steve.

Billy clears his throat and starts slowly trying to separate himself and Steve.

Steve only half wakes up, eyes fluttering open briefly. Billy’s moved his lower body away, but Steve’s still lying on his arm.

“Hmm?” Steve hums.

“Kinda...trapped here.” Billy says awkwardly.

Steve moans a little, sleep-heavy, and rolls away from Billy.

Billy leaves to use the bathroom, forcing himself to only pee and not jerk off.

When he returns to the bedroom, Steve is still lying on his side, but he’s looking at his phone.

Billy starts to say, “Good mo -- , ” but stops himself because oh yeah, they’re angry with each other. Steve looks at him briefly before turning his attention back to his phone.

Billy goes to the closet and grabs sweatpants and a t-shirt.

He needs coffee and a fucking cigarette.

He doesn’t say anything to Steve before leaving to try and find the kitchen.

Billy doesn’t get very far. He overhears fragments of a conversation coming from one of the libraries, or at least, Billy thinks it’s a library. He can’t keep track of the rooms in this damn house.

It’s Steve’s parents.

“ -- not thinking straight, obviously -- ”

“ -- Billy is just a phase -- ”

“ -- fighting all the time, just heard them the other day -- ”

“ -- don't think they’ll last -- ”

“ -- push off the money if Steve’s this unstable -- ”

Well fuck.

“ -- go talk to Steve right now -- ”

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Billy ran as quietly as he could back to the bedroom.

Steve was sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Billy peeked out the door, looking down the hall. He saw the unmistakable hairstyle of Mrs. Harrington turning the corner and shut the door silently.

“Fuck.” Billy rubbed a hand over his face.

“What?” Steve yawned.

Billy turned and looked at Steve apprehensively. He guessed he had about thirty seconds and had to move quickly.

Billy took his shirt off, throwing it aside. He went over to the bed and slid under the covers, pouncing on Steve and pinning him down, Billy’s legs pushing Steve’s apart.

“What, what the fuck?” Steve all but shrieked, trying to move away, twist out of Billy’s hold.

“Dude, shut up. Listen to me.” Billy hissed. Steve is still hard and it’s pushing against Billy’s inner thigh but Billy tries to focus. “I overheard your parents talking, I’ll explain that part later, your mom’s coming in here. I need to -- ” He cut himself off, looking down at Steve’s mouth.

Steve seemed to understand and looked away briefly, but only for a second before giving a tight nod in response.

“It is extremely important that you act like you’re enjoying this.” Billy informs him and tries to sound as serious as possible.

Steve doesn’t say anything but Billy doesn’t miss how his cheeks are flushing and yeah, Steve’s dick just twitched.

Billy leant down and kissed him.

Steve was unresponsive for a moment, but Billy lets one of his wrists go and reaches down to pull at Steve’s tank top, pushing it up to his neck. Nipples exposed, Billy puts his hand on Steve’s chest, digging a finger against one of them.

Steve gasps against Billy’s mouth and Billy takes advantage of it, plunging his tongue in Steve’s mouth.

Billy feels Steve’s free hand grab at his hair and Steve’s suddenly kissing him back, making these little, desperate, almost confused noises in the back of his throat.

Billy drags his hand down Steve’s body, further down, dragging Steve’s boxers slightly down with his hand. He grips at Steve’s hips, which jerk in his hold. Steve whines a little. The blankets are pooled at their hips, so Steve’s mom wouldn’t even be able to see that, but Billy’s being a little greedy right now. Truthfully Steve hasn’t stopped moving since they started kissing, like he’s trying to move his body away, trying not to push against Billy, but he can’t stop shifting and squirming, and Billy wonders if it’s intentional or for show cause it’s doing things to Billy that he’s trying not to overthink.

Another desperate sound falls out of Steve’s mouth and Billy is starting to get hard again, knows Steve can feel it.

It was hot.

His heart is hammering. He kisses Steve harder, starting to lose himself in the way it’s making him feel.

He’s desperate to touch Steve, and his hand moves down a little.

“Steven, I -- ”

They jerk apart.

Mrs. Harrington stands in the doorway, eyes wide in shock.

“Mom!” Steve yells angrily.

“I. Oh. I. Oh no.” She’s short-circuiting, clearly embarrassed, and stumbles backwards out of the room, shutting the door.

Billy doesn’t move. He waits a full ten seconds before turning back to look at Steve who is staring at him, face bright red, and it’s spread down his neck, his chest.

They’re still so close and Billy’s still holding his wrist, other hand gripping his hip.

He glances down at Steve’s mouth and he wants, god does he want.

Billy moves ever so slightly towards Steve.

Steve’s breath hitches. “Get off me.” Steve says quickly.

Crashing back to reality, Billy pulls away, moving off Steve.

Steve yanks his shirt down, pulls the blankets over him and lets out a long, shaky breath.

“What the fuck was that about?”

So Billy tells him.

chapter six

[itsclydebitches]

YYH Recaps: Episode 1, Surprised to be Dead

Hello, all you hypothetical readers! It's a beautiful spring day and I have a free afternoon ahead of me, so what better time to start another massive project while I guilty stuff my other WIPs deep into the depths of my hard drive? Yeah. Iffy life choices aside, someone mentioned a few weeks back that they'd love for me to recap a show I have more positive things to say about than negative (RIP RWBY) and ever since Netflix announced that their live-action adaptation of Yu Yu Hakusho is in the works, I've been itching for a re-watch of the anime. With the RWBY hiatus underway, it seemed like the perfect time to fulfill both desires.

Before we begin though, I'd like to touch on a few things that are going to influence this project.

First, YYH is near and dear to my heart. Written by Yoshihiro Togashi in the early 1990s and later adapted for an American audience by Funimation, I had the pleasure of experiencing this story five different ways: as a serialized tale in Shonen Jump, a binge read when I had the money to buy the manga, tiny snippets of the anime on Adult Swim late at night — don't tell my parents ;) — as an after-school treat on Toonami, and then years later as a re-watch when I introduced it to a friend (who, in turn, blessed me by having us watch Fullmetal Alchemist next). I used to keep a Hiei bookmark in everything I was reading, the spirit gun made it into our witch-wolf-space adventures on the playground (middle school was wild), and there was a long period of my life where I tried very hard to teach myself to stand with my hands behind my back, precisely as Genkai does. Spoiler alert: I failed. So to say I love the series is... a little bit of an understatement. I bring this up simply as a way of demonstrating that there's more than a bit of nostalgia attached to YYH for me and that will inevitably cloud my reading of it. How can it not? So that's just something to keep in mind as I work through a series that, like any having hit its 30th birthday, has its outdated, flawed, and other questionable aspects.

Second, but very much connected to the first point, is that these are pretty casual recaps. I summarize and extrapolate, focusing primarily on plot and dialogue (but with the occasional cinematography aspect tossed in). I'm not conducting research on the cultural history here — something that will come up at least once in this episode — I'm not arguing an overarching thesis, and I've never been someone who focuses on the author/production/trivia of a series. I'm here for the story as the story is presented to the viewer. If you've read my RWBY Recaps, this will function precisely the same way, with the only difference being I'm engaging with a finished text as opposed to an ongoing one, so there’s a lot less, “Maybe ___ will happen” theorizing going on. 

Third, I obviously recommend that you watch the show yourself (you can find it on YouTube!), but you don't have to know the series to follow along. As these massive paragraphs attest, I tend to be both detailed and verbose, so we'll be covering every major plot point — and most of the smaller ones too.

Finally, I'm working from the dub. I know, I know, the horror. But it's what I grew up on and, honestly, I think it's superior to the sub. YYH's dubbing is in a class all its own and to this day there are very few shows that compare to it. Trust me, it's a good call.

That's enough of the boring chit-chat though. Let's get started!

Our very first episode "Surprised to be Dead" opens on a crowded street. We see lots of traffic, people going about their business, and a pedestrian crossing sign that, crucially, turns red. This is our normality and, like in every genre story, you need to break that normality at some point so that the protagonists can go on their fantastical/supernatural/science fiction journey. YYH eases us into things by first breaking the normality of an everyday afternoon: there's a screech of tires, quick shots of a man pushing a child out of the way of an oncoming car, and then his back is hitting the windshield. We begin this story with a horrible — but otherwise mundane — car crash.

Now, these flashes alone have a fair bit to unpack. Despite later getting a brief shot of the man's scared face right before he's hit, the moment's focus is really on the child. He's the one foregrounded in the initial, slow-mo shot. He's the one who appears in color while the man is kept in shadow. This isn't just a hit, it's a rescue. The camera is also careful to follow the soccer ball this kid was playing with (more on that later in the episode), with it flying through the air as the man is hit and bouncing to a stop in the street, acting as the dramatic finish. It's childhood! It's innocence! It's play on a sunny afternoon! And it's all gone wrong.

This moment is chaotic and even a bit confusing. Not in the sense of what's happening — that is quite obviously a guy being hit by a car — but who the victims are, how precisely this came about, or even why we're meant to care about this beyond a generic capacity to feel for other human (fictional) beings... that's all removed. And it works. As the crash takes place, the camera pans across the stunned crowd and we, the viewer, become a part of that crowd. They don't know what precisely is going on either. We're all just horrified onlookers as a sudden tragedy takes place. We're all watching the same show.

So everyone realizes this guy has been hit. People are staring in shock and someone calls for an ambulance. We see the driver fall to his knees in the street, distraught, shakily saying, "I didn't mean to..." It's a very serious and emotional scene that —

— is immediately tempered by this guy waking up, complete with a cute 'pop!' sound effect when he opens his eyes.

This is YYH's brand, this Very Serious Circumstances skillfully interwoven with casual indifference/comedy. It's admittedly far from a unique brand, but it's an excellent choice given that this is the same attitude that will drive 99% of our protagonist's interaction with the world.

Speaking of said protagonist, our guy wakes up, opens his eyes, and realizes that he's floating. There's a great, disorientating shot from his perspective where everything is upside down, causing him to nearly fall out of the air. Well would you look at that, he's as confused as we are. It's our audience surrogate!

A narrator says, "And so it all begins. This boy's name is Yusuke, he's fourteen years old, and he's supposed to be the hero of this story. But oddly enough, he's dead."

Game of Thrones might have made it popular, but YYH did it better.

(Yeah, yeah, I know one death kick-starts the journey and the other is a shocking twist. Just let me have this.)

Now, it's a weird introduction, right? At least at the end. The announcement that change has occurred, a name, an age... that all checks out. But "supposed to be the hero"? What the hell is that “supposed to” mean? Our narrator gives us the easy, surface answer: "But oddly enough, he's dead." We're capitalizing here on the audience's expectation that death ends a character's journey and though they may have been a hero previously, they can no longer be one moving forward. That function within the story has passed. So it's this intriguing question of, "What kind of hero do you have when that hero is dead from the start?" but as we'll see soon, there's an additional meaning here of, "How can Yusuke be the hero?" As this premiere sets up, Yusuke doesn't act like the hero is “supposed to” act. 

Until he saved this kid.

But right now he's just confused: "Okay, this is weird. Stupid weird."

Two EMTs arrive on the scene and are hilariously useless. You know how in any medical drama a doctor will stop CPR after a couple of seconds because obviously you're not going to spend half the episode on realism? Well, that's this only a thousand times worse. One guy just looks at the kid and announces he's fine except for some bumps and bruises. Meanwhile, the kid is sobbing.

"Well, at least one of them is," replies the other EMT, because I guess he can tell Yusuke is beyond hope without taking a pulse or anything? "I hate cleanup," he complains as they load his body onto a stretcher because that's? An empathetic response to have??

Honestly this scene is wild.

Yusuke is understandably upset that he's, you know, dead and all. He starts hounding the EMTs who, unable to hear him, just go about their business of taking the kid and his body to the hospital. "You think you can just do whatever you want because you have that stupid uniform on? You can't just write me off. Listen to me!" and Yusuke tries to punch one of the EMTs in the head, resulting in him floating right through.

What a great way to introduce your protagonist's personality. We see here that when things go wrong Yusuke's default emotion is anger and it starts creeping in even before he thinks the others are ignoring him: "Stupid weird." He has problems with authority — "You think you can just do whatever you want because you have that stupid uniform on?" — is used to others listening when he gets angry — "You can't just write me off!" — and is poised to use violence at the slightest provocation. Yusuke is a guy who, right now at least, is ready to punch first and ask questions later.

As Yusuke floats back up into the air and the ambulance drives away, he finally cools down enough to try and think his way out of this. "It's not like this is the first time you've been in a jam,” he thinks. Yusuke recalls that yeah, something was different about today...

...he actually went to school.

Catch me laughing that this idiot boy equates the weirdness of him dying with going to school. Good lord. 

Anyway, this jumpstarts our flashback. We open on a generic, anime middle school (that always feels like a high school to me) where the principal is calling for Yusuke through the loud speaker. Oooo someone’s in trouble! We follow a young girl up to the rooftop and she gets a classic hair-blowing-in-the-wind moment to  establish that she's our love interest. Meet Keiko Yukimura.

Keiko finds Yusuke hanging out and immediately starts lecturing him for trying to chew gum and refusing to wear the boys' uniform. "Oh, give me a break, Keiko. I look better in green." Note that it's here we learn her name and it's an easy, casual way to introduce it. I bring this up because Yusuke's introduction via our narrator is very much... not that. It's an on your nose statement about his name, age, and importance to the story, and if you're just starting the show in 2021, it might come across as a rather armature move. Like something out of a kid's show, perhaps. Yet here we see that this was a deliberate choice, considering that YYH is capable of introducing character information naturally when it wants to.

This moment also tells us that Yusuke cares a great deal about his image. More on that in a bit. Because Keiko isn't finished her list of grievances yet, going on to say that his attendance record has hurt their entire class, hurt her as class representative, and if he keeps going down this path he won't even graduate middle school. "Sometimes I think you don't care about anyone but yourself and then you don't even do that right!"

They're legit complaints. Too bad Yusuke is busy looking up Keiko's skirt.

Yeeeeah. Sadly, this is common for anime, particularly a 90s anime like YYH. Even presumably more progressive series like My Hero Academia feature characters like Mineta, whose entire personality is being a pervert, and the creation of abilities that "require" kids/young women to be scantily clad. See: Yaoyorozu. YYH is no different in this regard, with various forms of sexual harassment functioning as a shorthand for how much Yusuke secretly likes Keiko. "Boys will be boys," right? Obviously not. 

Like so many others series, the creators get away with it because they’re framing it as a bad thing. It's totally fine because look, Keiko slaps him! This is  teaching the viewer how wrong this behavior is. Never mind that this is clearly an established habit between them, that Yusuke laughs off Keiko's discomfort, and that the whole scene is meant to be funny for the viewer. That's the real purpose here; it’s not a PSA on harassment. 

That, and to establish the long-suffering love Keiko has for Yusuke in turn, largely stemming from a life-long friendship. "Dumb boy! He hasn't grown up a bit since he was four years old." We see that Keiko's early interactions with Yusuke have given her insight that others lack. As she heads down from the roof she runs into two girls hiding around the corner, too scared to come out lest "the great Urameshi" set his sights on them. Isn't Keiko terrified of what he might do to her? "Or worse, what others might say of it?" Like any classic high school middle school setting, one's reputation is king. Yusuke cares about how others see him — maintaining that tough boy attitude — and the girls care more about what the rest of the school might think of Keiko's interactions with him than the presumed harm Yusuke could do to her. They heard he can summon 2,000 men with just a whistle and that he "kills for fun!" But that means nothing in the face of people talking about you. Despite being one of the most popular girls in school, Keiko is the outsider here via her disinterest in what other people think.

The animation changes here, giving us a good look at how the girls picture Yusuke: tough, scowling, surrounded by shadows, and backed by an entire army.

In contrast, we've already seen what Yusuke is really like.

Keiko laughs the image off too. Yusuke is more like a "lamb" than a killer and besides, he couldn't order around two people, let alone two hundred. "He doesn't have many friends."

"That's not what I heard," says one of the girls. 

"Yeah," goes the other. "I think we would know." 

Again, rumors rule here, with whispers in the hall considered more reliable than someone who interacts with Yusuke on a daily basis. Keiko doesn’t have a hope of changing their minds. 

Oh, as a side note, I love that they gave Keiko Miyazaki-esque hair. It's very emotive.

Yusuke escapes outside where the principal is still calling for him to report to his office. He overhears a conversation around the corner and we cut to two boys, one of which is showing a wallet off to the other. He explains that some bully tried to rough him up, but he said he was Urameshi's cousin and the bully took off, dropping his wallet in the process. The guy's friend is impressed, but what is he going to do if Yusuke ever finds out he lied? Not to worry, he says, that "blockhead" would probably think it's true even if he did somehow hear.

Yusuke, obviously, does hear about this and he, also obviously, does not believe this guy is his cousin. He looms ominously and they scurry up against a wall, terrified and offering him the wallet as an apology.

"You think I want your money?" Yusuke yells.

YYH is, in many respects, a rather simple story, but I appreciate the hints of complexity in these otherwise straightforward interactions. It's not that this guy used Yusuke's name to steal a wallet, he used it as a form of protection against another bully — a far more sympathetic motivation. It's not that Yusuke's fearsome reputation has resulted in any genuine respect because once people think they're safe they reveal how little they think of his intelligence — he's a "blockhead." And Yusuke, though intimidating and violent, is not your average, schoolyard bully. He doesn't care about money, only the insult and the damage this guy using his name might have done to his reputation. There's a little more nuance here than you might otherwise expect.

Also, note how dark the boys' standard uniforms are and how much they blend into the rest of the world. Yusuke, as our protagonist, stands out in his bright clothing. He was right, he does look better in green!

So he's ready to clobber this kid when one of the teachers arrive: Mr. Iwamoto.

Iwamoto demands to know what's going on, but the boys are too terrified to rat Yusuke out. Noticing the wallet on the ground, he assumes that Yusuke was after their money, something that greatly offends him: "Whatever!" Iwamoto goes on to say that, "No good weeds like you should have been plucked a long time ago," making it clear that he considers Yusuke a hopeless case. The positive aspects that Keiko sees, as well as the complexity the viewer sees — to say nothing of his introduction of saving a kid — aren’t considered here.

Notably, Iwamoto exists in part to show us what Yusuke could become. Not a teacher (he's obviously not attending school enough for that!), but a cynical man who is cruel for cruelty's sake. Yusuke is already barreling down that path, ignoring Keiko's advice, terrorizing other students, trying to punch EMTs, etc. If his life (or afterlife...) hadn't changed through that accident, this is the kind of person Yusuke might have grown up to be, and we can see that clearly in the visual parallels between them. Dark haired men dressed in green who scowl with ease and toss out cutting insults. Yusuke is staring his future in the face.

For now he walks off with a final shot, "You shouldn't talk. It makes you sound stupid." This time Yusuke makes it to the school's entrance and tries to enjoy his second attempt at chewing gum, but someone hits him in the back of the head.

"Okay, somebody's DEAD — ah. Sorry, old man."

"That's Mr. Takenaka to you."

Our principal has finally left the office and hunted down Yusuke for himself! Putting this interaction immediately after the one with Iwamoto allows the viewer to compare them. Yusuke might be irreverent towards his principal, but it's clear there's still some kind of respect between them. Yusuke only starts threatening because he doesn’t realize who hit him and once he does realize it's Takenaka, he immediately apologizes. That "old man" comes across as a teasing insult and Yusuke allows himself to be briefly dragged back towards school, rather than throwing a now classic punch. In turn, Takenaka cares enough about Yusuke to try and keep him on the straight and narrow. He utilizes Yusuke's preferred language — violence — but in a casual way, nonthreatening way: slight hit to the back of his head, noogie, pulling him along by the ear. 

It's the sort of physicality we're used to seeing in media between a parent and child who are outwardly antagonistic, but actually share a deep bond. Takenaka is also careful to frame their return to his office as a "discussion," not a punishment, and offers Yusuke tea along with the conversation. Whereas Iwamoto considers Yusuke to be a "weed" that should have been plucked from their school long ago, Takenaka is determined to help Yusuke bloom.

If we're continuing the flower metaphor :D

Yusuke isn't in the mood to play along though. He gets away by using a fake ear, startling Takenaka when it unexpectedly pulls free. Yusuke escapes the school grounds and Takenaka, suffering a back twinge from his fall, can't chase after him. Poor guy. I understand that pain lol.

Yusuke heads home where we're introduced to his mother, Atsuko. Most notable in her first shot is the soft lighting that highlights her looks. We're not told how old she is here, but I believe she's around 28 — and she looks it, if not younger. Given that Yusuke is 14, that means Atsuko was a mom at his age. This is a quick and subtle way to tell us about Yusuke's home life. There are more overt details in this scene — it's at least lunchtime and Atsuko hasn't left her bed yet, she demands that Yusuke make her coffee instead of greeting him, it's all meant to imply (before we actually see) that she's an alcoholic — but her age is another way to highlight the broken household here. There's no partner in sight and she clearly had Yusuke as a teenager. He hasn't had a strong parental figure to take care of him. If anything, Yusuke is taking care of Atsuko here.

"Oh great, mother of the year!" basically sums things up.

Atsuko wants to know why Yusuke isn't in school and he says that everyone is pissing him off today, particularly with their preaching. "Dear, if you hate preaching so much you should live on your own... but you can't do that, can you?" Alongside a rough upbringing, Yusuke is suffering from the common problem of being trapped in a dead-end life. He hates his school, his town, and coming home to find his mom hungover. Yusuke has no prospects and, outside of one principal, no one who is actively working to help him find some. Even the little things he hates, like being preached to, are unavoidable because if you want to live on your own, that requires money. Good luck pulling that off as a middle schooler whose only skill is street fighting!

Yusuke walks off in a huff, literally shouting in a street about what a bad day he's having (and hilariously scaring off pedestrians in the process). His shout brings trouble though. A couple guys appear to ambush him, their boss close behind. The music increases the tension, Yusuke's expression is serious, and we even get a Dutch angle thrown into the mix. 

For any who don't know, the Dutch angle is a popular film technique to establish that something is wrong. There's tension in the scene, something uneasy is at play, and the world is now literally off center. It's perhaps most famously used in Do The Right Thing to establish the friction between an Italian-American pizzeria and the predominantly African American neighborhood it's based in.

But it's also used a great deal in horror as a way to say: yup, shit just got real. Scary real.

This Dutch angle introduces a character you may not appreciate at first, but absolutely should: Kazuma Kuwabara.

He's initially the comic relief and that's clear in his introduction. Within seconds we move from that intimidating arrival to, well, seeing him. To be clear, I've got nothing against redheads with big chins, but compared to Yusuke's design, Kuwabara is meant to be the funny looking one. His threat level plummets the moment we get a look at his face, especially in a series that will occasionally use looks as a (supposed) measure of intelligence. 

Also, Kuwabara is dressed in light blue so, like Yusuke, we know he's important!

Any assumptions that his appearance isn’t meant to imply a goofy, embarrassing personality are put to rest when Kuwabara starts rambling about how they last time they fought Yusuke just got a cheap shot in and he'll definitely win this time. Yeah, he won't. Yusuke is thrilled by this diversion though and we get a shot of him looking almost as creepy as Keiko's friends think he is. Whatever else might be said about Yusuke, he is absolutely a monster in a fight.

Which we see here. If anyone picked up the series without knowing this was a fighting anime, they'll realize it now. Yusuke's choreography is stylized to show off his skill: he disappears with a 'whoosh' and dark lines to suggest inhuman speed,

attacking Kuwabara with a knee to the face, utilizes flying kicks, lands perfect, precision punches, and ends it all with the toe-tip landing we've come to expect of all powerful fighters. Kuwabara never even got a hit in. 

Happy as a clam now, Yusuke wanders off whistling and Kuwabara's friends are left to pick up the pieces. AKA, his likely broken bones. I love that they're legit friends though and not just nameless goons for the sake of giving Kuwabara a small gang (though their names won't come up until later). "That makes 0 wins an 156 loses!" one of them cries, trying to get Kuwabara to stop ending up in the hospital, probably. We establish that Kuwabara is The Most Dramatic Ever when he pulls his broken body into a seated position, shouting, "No! I almost had him that time!"

Then he passes out.

Kuwabara, honey, you obviously did not almost have him, but god bless you for the outlook. The most optimistic thing on this Earth is a well-loved Golden Retriever, but Kuwabara comes in at a very close second.

With his dream to one day beat Yusuke in combat established, we cut to Yusuke wandering the street where the episode opened. "Okay, I'm remembering" he says in a voiceover. "After that I met the kid."

The soccer ball reappears as it rolls to a stop at Yusuke's feet. He grabs it and immediately starts yelling at the kid. Horrible protagonist, right? Well, Yusuke is trying to instill in him the danger of using this street as a playground, a worry the viewer already knows is 100% justified. “Listen, kid, that’s dangerous! There are cars going by that will splatter you into the pavement!” It's one of those quick moments where we get to enjoy Yusuke's duality: he's someone who is nearly making a toddler cry, but for rather understandable reasons. He's got the right idea, but needs to go about it in a more mature manner.

Which is precisely what he attempts to do. Sort of. Yusuke changes gears, though whether it's a more "mature" route is certainly up for debate lol. He tries entertaining the kid instead, raising and lowering the soccer ball to reveal goofy faces.

When these fail to impress, Yusuke goes full out by stuffing the ball into his pants, pushing his nose up with a pair of chopsticks he got from god knows where, and generally just putting on a display.

So Yusuke cares very deeply about his reputation... but only when it comes to those who are an established part of his life. Keiko, Mr. Takenaka, and the other kids at school all need to maintain a particular image of Yusuke, one that he's carefully cultivated. But random pedestrians on the street? Who cares about them? Let them talk.

This shows us that Yusuke does indeed have priorities over his own, selfish goals. Namely, the happiness of some kid is more important to him than looking "cool" for a bunch of strangers. Lots of characters with Yusuke's surface attitude would sneer at the idea of degrading themselves for — their words — some brat. But Yusuke, as we constantly see, actually does have that heart of gold. “Well, if all else fails I can still make kids happy.”

Although... I'm not sure what to make of his display itself. I have the distinct sense that there's something prejudiced here that I'm not able to fully articulate, what with the chopsticks, slanted eyes, bald head, and the like, though to be entirely frank I don't have enough knowledge of Japan's history to say precisely what it might be. Or, really, whether it exists at all. Just something to chew on.

What I am sure about though is the importance of having the child label Yusuke as monster — "Yeah, monster! — but in a delighted manner. Yusuke is indeed some kind a monster, someone who disappoints adults and terrifies his classmates, a demon fighter on the streets too, but here that identity is reworked into something positive.

Having successful secured a laugh, Yusuke tells the kid — calmly this time — to go play elsewhere. The toddler stares up at him with the blank expression only kids can manage.

Well, kids and whatever headspace I'm in after writing these metas.

To absolutely no one's surprise except Yusuke's, the kid does not go elsewhere. Instead, he continues kicking the ball down the street, causing Yusuke to exclaim, “Dammit, what’s the use? The kid can get smashed by a car for all I care!” Liar, liar. 

The picture becomes desaturated as the kid kicks the ball and it flies into the street, time slowing down to show it landing precisely in the middle of the road. Yusuke again yells for him to stay put, but when has a toddler ever listened? He begins to walk into the road as our driver arrives, speeding, swerving, and paying more attention to the girl at his side than what's in front of him.

This time, we see the accident from the front with both Yusuke and the kid presented equally.

There's a cut to black and when we return we're in the present, Yusuke floating above the policemen now investigating the scene. “So that’s it? I’m roadkill?” As Yusuke realizes he's dead, specifically that he's a ghost, a voice goes,

"Bingo! Bingo! You win the prize!"

A woman has appeared who is quite obviously othered by the standards of the episode so far. Unlike the greens, blues, and browns of the series' modern clothes, she's dressed in hot pink kimono with blue hair to match. She's also, you know, floating on an oar.

“I didn’t expect you to figure it out so quickly," she says, referring to Yusuke's revelation that he's dead. Apparently, those who meet unexpected and/or violent ends tend to take some time coming to terms with their demise. It's a nice acknowledgment of Yusuke's intelligence in an interaction that's otherwise... not great for his self-esteem.

Meaning, this woman is about to drag him lol.

She introduces herself as Botan, pilot of the River Styx and guider of souls to the afterlife. You might also know her as the Grim Reaper.

(Hey, RWBY fans: I originally wrote that as Grimm Reaper 🤦‍♀️)

It's an claim Yusuke takes issue with because 1. Botan is too pretty to be the Grim Reaper and 2. If she was really some god of death she'd be taking this much more seriously, not laughing and saying, "Bingo!" For the audience this does two things. First, it acknowledges our own expectations and validates them. Yusuke's world isn't so far removed from our own that he takes Botan's looks and personality at face value, he also expected a skeleton with a scythe. So don't worry, all the weird stuff in this series is weird to our protagonist too. They'll be explanations. Or, even if there’s not, you’re not wrong for being surprised. 

Second, it sets up the very common theme in YYH of undermining those common assumptions again and again and again. We've already seen it with Yusuke, wherein characters who look and act a certain way are, supposedly, destined to be that person and nothing more. Yusuke is meant to be just a "weed," a dumb, violent, angry loser who goes nowhere in life... but we already know he's more than that. Botan is supposed to be scary and serious, but she says nah, I want to be cute and bubbly instead. No character in YYH embodies who they're "supposed" to be when you look past those surface characterizations. They play the part of archetypes — and do keep certain parts of their expected personalities — but they're also far more well-rounded than that. Which yeah, is something most people expect from any story nowadays, but YYH is particularly adept at making you think you're watching Simple Show A only to turn around and surprise you with More Complex Show B.

It's great, trust me.

So Yusuke is pissed that Botan isn't adhering to those expectations, in the same way that he works hard to validate others expectations of him. He doesn't know how to deal with someone challenging his world view yet. Rather than angering Botan though, she just nods and says that this response makes sense for him. “Rather than being scared, or surprised, you yell a lot and tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about." Taking out a notebook, she quickly summarizes everything we learned in the flashback — minus Yusuke's complexities: he's fourteen, in middle school, is ill-tempered, violent, hates authority, and is a horrible student.

Typically, Yusuke responds by getting angry and trying to snatch the booklet out of her hands, only for Botan to pull it out of his reach, laughing. The tables have turned! Rather than being surrounded by people who cower at Yusuke's imposed authority, he now finds himself faced with someone who laughs at his transparent attempts to take control of the situation.

Calming down, Yusuke wants to know if the kid he saved is really alright and Botan offers to let him see for himself. That offer produces Yusuke's first, genuine smile.

They fly to the hospital where a doctor is in the process of giving the kid a clean bill of health, his mother crying with relief. 

That's enough for Yusuke. “Alright, Botan, I’ve got no regrets, so you can take me to hell or wherever it is I’m going.”

That tells you all you need to know about Yusuke's self-worth, despite his bad boy attitude. His life is a dead-end as far as he can see and most of those around him haven't done anything to dissuade him of that idea. He says he doesn't care if the kid lives or dies, but then instinctively saves him. Post his death, Yusuke doesn't have anything he considers a regret, or anything he'd like to do before he leaves, like saying goodbye to a loved one. Oh, he's also pretty sure he's going to hell and has resigned himself to that without a fight.

Uplifting!

Botan just laughs though, saying that she's actually here to offer Yusuke an "ordeal" that could bring him back to life. See, he wasn't supposed to die today — let alone die saving a kid — and frankly they don't know what to do with him. It's another neat summary of what we've already learned: Yusuke is a far more complicated case than the afterlife assumed and now, when push comes to shove, deciding whether he belongs in heaven or hell is... muddled.

There's a fantastic story there about the problems with an afterlife that reduces a person's entire life to a few surface characteristics recorded in a book, refusing to acknowledge the context of their situation, or their capacity for change. “Run someone with your credentials a thousand times and they never would have saved a kid like that." Except, of course, Yusuke did save him, so those "credentials" are suspect, to say the least. However, YYH is not a story that explores these issues. Instead, I recommend you watch this!

Rather than being upset at the afterlife's low opinion of him (because let's be real, Yusuke shares it), he latches onto a little detail Botan let slip. If he wasn't supposed to die today... then was the kid?

Mmm... no. Actually, without the chaos of Yusuke jumping into the road, the driver would have swerved at the last second and the kid would have not only lived, but actually come out with one less scrape.

So Yusuke is obviously upset by this news! I would be too!! Holy shit, hang onto the "it's the thought that counts" message with everything you've got.

Also, don't think too much about the fact that the afterlife apparently knows exactly what will happen to people, down to how many cuts they accumulate in an accident. Also, don't think too much about where the afterlife foreseeing the crash begins and the unexpectedness of Yusuke interfering ends. That way lies madness. This will never come up again, so just let it go.

Sorry, 2013 me hijacked the post for a second.

As said, Yusuke is understandably upset by this revelation and as he fumes I'm reminded that this series likes to pull some amazing expressions.

Botan reiterates that it's all fine because Yusuke can come back to life. Weren't you listening? He should feel honored, in fact, considering that an offer like this only arrives every 100 years or so. Well, that explains why all of humanity isn't grappling with people coming back to life on the daily. One person every generation isn't going to cause much of a stir.

However, instead of jumping at the chance Yusuke announces that Botan is just like the teachers at school: she doesn't know what she's talking about. “You said yourself my life was kind of pathetic, right?” he says, going on to explain that everyone will be happier now that he's dead. His school won't have to deal with his behavior, Keiko won't have to nag him, and his mom will be able to party whenever she wants. It's a win-win for everyone involved. 

Hmm, this feels familiar. 

Don't worry, Yusuke doesn't need to experience a whole alternate reality to get the message.

“I’m sorry you feel that way at such an early age," Botan says and she is sorry, because despite her teasing nature that's a legitimately horrifying thing to believe. Yusuke won't budge though and after a little back-and-forth Botan leaves, telling Yusuke he should think it over while visiting his wake. She'll come back once he decides what to do.

“Do you have worms in your ears, lady? I did decide!” but Botan is long gone.

We cut to that night where Yusuke has indeed decided to attend his own wake. Maybe because of Botan's advice, maybe because he's just morbidly curious. We’re not given insight into the decision. 

Atsuko is a mess, to put it mildly, not dressed for the occasion and sitting slumped against the way, staring vacantly as the guests offer their condolences. Yusuke is surprised by the fact that his entire class is here, but quickly writes them off when he sees two of the boys laughing. I'm on the fence about this detail, which I'll unpack in just a second.

First though, Yusuke sees Keiko exiting the house, inconsolable in her grief. She collapses on the ground with her two friends trying to offer comfort, despite the fact that they had nothing good to say about Yusuke himself. Good on them.

Before he can think too long on this though, Yusuke is distracted by Kuwabara's arrival. Unlike Keiko's crying, he expresses his grief through yelling. Specifically, yelling at Yusuke. For dying. For daring to "run away." His own friends are physically holding him back as he charges into the wake, screaming, “Who am I gonna fight now, huh? Who am I gonna fight?" It's not really about the fighting, of course. At least, not the fighting alone. "You’re supposed to be here for me," Kuwabara finishes, the punch he's thrown at Yusuke's photo going limp and catching his first tear.

You know, for all the  goofy expressions, this show really is gorgeous. Just wait until we get to the fight animations.

Kuwabara's reaction is why I hesitate to write off the classmates like Yusuke has. Granted, we have no reason to believe that they care for him as Kuwabara does — they're nameless background characters defined only by their terror of "the great Urameshi" — but it's still a split second taken out of context. We don't know what they were laughing at, or if laughing is a part of their grief. God knows I personally laugh at the most inappropriate moments. If you tell me someone has just died there is a very good chance I will laugh awkwardly as I try to process that. It’s just a reflex. All of which I bring up not because these side characters are important, but because Yusuke's perception of his own worth is. The point of each of these moments is to show that those around him have always cared for him, even if Yusuke didn't notice. It's nice to think that extends to his classmates too. The variety likewise exists to show us how people grieve differently, with Kuwabara's friends not understanding that this is how he's working through the trauma: “This place is for mourning!” He is mourning, even if his way of mourning isn't as socially acceptable as Keiko's. So if screaming and throwing punches is valid, crying is valid, staring stoically in a drunk stupor is valid... why not laughter too?

Not likely, perhaps, but possible.

As an additional possibility to chew on, watching this premier again, it struck me how more emotional Kuwabara's scene is compared to Keiko's. Don't get me wrong, crying and calling Yusuke’s name gets the point across, but it's two seconds of generic grief compared to a much longer scene rife with intensity. When Kuwabara arrives the music swells and everyone is forced to pay attention to him. His grief is loud, violent, and given symbolism with his fist and the photo. There's more effort put into his reaction, frankly, so it wouldn't surprise me if fans started shipping them after this. That grief combined with an "enemies to lovers" possibility is a pretty potent mix. To be clear, Yusuke/Keiko is the (oh so obvious) canonical endgame and in the fandom Yusuke/Kuwabara can't compare to another slash ship that will turn up later, but this is a good example of how writers can craft some Very Gay Scenes without realizing it. When you have the girl crying prettily for a second and the guy absolutely losing his mind over Yusuke's death, questioning his purpose now, his support network, and then collapsing in grief... don't be surprised if your audience goes, "Oh hey, maybe they'd be a good couple instead."

But I digress.

The only people who are unquestioningly happy about Yusuke's passing are Mr. Iwamoto and his co-conspirator, Mr. Akashi. You know Akashi is another bad guy because he has bucked teeth and "ugliness" is an easy way to code for evilness. YYH is not immune to those mistakes :/

These two are really something else though, standing in the middle of a wake and claiming it's “too bad that car wasn’t big enough for them too," referring to Kuwabara and his friends. Wow! What stellar members of the academic community. Iwamoto goes on to say that Yusuke dying at least accomplished something good. Not, mind you, saving the life of a child, but rather looking good for their school's reputation. Akashi agrees, but says it's likely Yusuke only accidentally saved him while trying to steal the kid's lunch money. Remember, that accusation of theft is the one thing Yusuke has said outright that he does not do.

He's pissed listening to all this — wouldn't you be? — but knows by now he can't do anything about it. In another fantastic shot, Yusuke hovers his hand over Iwamoto's shoulder, desperate to grab him, when Takenaka's arrives there instead.

“What do you suppose is more disgraceful? That boy showing his misery, or your insensitive and idiotic words!”

HELL YEAH. You tell 'em, Mr. Takenaka.

Yusuke gets his third shock of the night at this passionate defense. Takenaka leaves the teachers to go pay his respects, but admits to Yusuke's picture that he just can't speak well of him. He was surprised to hear that Yusuke gave up his life for another and it's a fact that he acted selfishly. Though he doesn't say it in as many words, Takenaka explains that he's not grieving because Yusuke was a good person, but because it's so clear to him that he might have been. “Why didn’t you stay? You could have made something great out of yourself.”

Normally, "Why didn't you stay?" is just something for the living to grapple with, as the dead obviously don't have any say in what happens to them. But Yusuke does. It's here that the lighting grows soft again and Yusuke considers Takenaka's words. Keiko and Kuwabara grieve for who he was, but Takenaka grieves for who Yusuke could have been — someone that might still exist if Yusuke decides to undergo this ordeal.

Atsuko adds fuel to the emotional fire, breaking down and hiding her face in her knees.

Finally, the kid Yusuke saved arrives with his mother. Because yes, Yusuke saved him in every way that matters, considering no one else knows — or will know — that he'd have lived anyway. I like that the show doesn't allow that knowledge to undermine the emotion of their arrival, or what Yusuke’s act meant to them. 

The mom tells her son to pay his respects and the kid thanks Yusuke for saving him, and for "making faces." He clearly doesn't get what's going on here. This is confirmed as the two leave and he asks his mom if he can play with Yusuke again tomorrow. “I know some people sounded angry at him, but he’s really nice!" 

They're probably just crying because they want to play with him too, he thinks, which just makes his mom join in. Everyone is crying in this club tonight.

Those words are the cincher for Yusuke and with a brief montage of all the grief he's witnessed, he makes his decision.

We cut to later that night where Yusuke floats above the city, admiring the moon. Botan reappears and he asks, “Have you ever not known about something that seemed obvious to everyone else?” Yes, everyone has experienced that at one point or another. She asks if he's made his decision and Yusuke agrees to try and come back to life.

Emotional revelations out of the way, we're allowed another tone shift as Botan yells with joy, speeding off and causing Yusuke to grab hold of the end of her oar, lest he be left behind. Cranky as always, he demands to know where they're going. "To the spirit world, of course!" They're off to see someone who can explain the ordeal and give Yusuke the tool needed to complete it. Just hang on and enjoy the ride.

Thus ends our very first episode! Ah, the nostalgia. This is part one of a four arc series, with the anime cutting out a lot of the filler stories found at the start of the manga — a smart decision, I think. They primarily do the work of teaching Yusuke what he learned at the wake, so if you can accomplish that as quickly as the adaptation did, all the better. Especially since Yusuke needs to grow a great deal beyond the basic understanding that people might, sort of care for him, and that work will occur primarily through a job he's going to take on. The series isn't really about his death and it's not about an attempt to come back either — it's about what happens once you get that second chance. So this is the setup, but it's important setup all the same.

No need to skip ahead though. I've blathered enough for one recap. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you when the writing gods next bless me with energy! 💜

[crowclubkaz]

Blood in the Sand (Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth)

read it here on ao3

Bounty hunters don’t work for free. This has been something Din Djarin has been firm with throughout his life – yes, some jobs pay in favors rather than in credits or beskar, but they pay none the less. There are some jobs he takes on because he owes someone something, some jobs he takes on because he can’t stand to see innocent people hurt.

Mos Pelgo has neither credits, nor beskar, nor does the Mandalorian owe them anything. And yet, when a distress call is sent from the town to him, he goes without hesitation. Not because he expects something in return. Not even because he knows the place is filled with nothing but innocents. He goes because of Cobb Vanth.

The distress call had been unclear, rushed and hurried and desperate, and most notably, not from the town Marshal, that much Din can tell. But the people of Mos Pelgo remember the Mandalorian that had slain the Krayt Dragon, the knight in shining armor that had bartered peace with the Tuskens, and so they know that fearsome reputation or not, he is a friend to them. A friend to Marshal Vanth. And although the call is sent out in vain, he is the only person they know to call. A small place in the middle of Tatooine has no desire to deal with the New Republic, lest they have their lives overtaken by pilots in orange.

Before Din’s ship even touches sand, he knows exactly what sort of trouble he’s in for. While Stormtrooper armor might bleed the white snow of places like Hoth, it sticks out clear as day against the browns and beiges of Tatooine. What Stormtroopers are doing in Mos Pelgo of all places, Din doesn’t know – but that doesn’t matter. Their presence means nothing good, only brings with it death and destruction and forced submission. And while one or two Stormtroopers can be ambushed perfectly easily, even by the townsfolk of as small a place as Mos Pelgo, the twelve that Din can see sitting straight along the road through the center of town alone tell him why this is a problem much better suited for a specialist.

Ask questions first, shoot second has always been Din’s motto – he likes to know why he’s shooting before he has to. Wants to make sure nobody innocent is getting hurt before he so much as reaches for his blaster. And while he doesn’t often give Stormtroopers the benefit of the doubt, he does this time. He does this time, because the last thing he wants is anyone getting caught in the crossfire of a fully-armored shootout. It’s just being safe.

The troopers are on him before he’s so much as reached the first building in the town.

“Mandalorian,” Din hears one of them say, and he can’t discern whether it’s spoken with shock, hesitancy, or as a precursor to being shot at.

Din is silent as two troopers approach him, blasters both held across their chests.

“State your business.”

His business. Ridiculous.

“I’ve come to see an old friend,” he says, because it’s not untrue, and it’s the truth that is least likely to result in an all-out firefight. Din wants to speak to Vanth, first. Wants to understand what’s happened, needs to decide what the best course of action is with the most information possible.

“This is an Imperial outpost,” one of the troopers informs him. It makes Din tense, makes him straighten impossibly so.

“And there are still residents here,” Din continues. He can see people staring out of the windows of their homes, with so much hope in their eyes that the Mandalorian is here to save them. But they stay quiet, and stay still, because Stormtroopers aren’t known for their patience or consideration for life.

The two troopers glance at one another, before speaking again. “Who are you here to see?”

At least they’re smart enough not to dismiss someone dressed entirely in beskar steel immediately.

“The Marshal.”

It’s the soft chuckle that one of the troopers makes that has Din turning his head slightly in their direction. Din has been grateful for his helmet more often than not, for the protection and anonymity it offers – he’s grateful for it now, too, because were it not for his helmet, the sharp danger in his eyes would have given away too much.

Though the other trooper doesn’t laugh, there’s a clear amusements in his voice when he speaks. “There are no Marshals here. This village is claimed by the Empire.”

Din’s blood runs cold in a heartbeat, at the notion that Vanth might be—no. No, he isn’t. Din would know if Cobb was dead. He doesn’t know how he’d know, but he would. Or maybe that’s just lingering hope.

“Cobb Vanth, then,” Din corrects, managing to keep his voice steady, emotionless.

One trooper looks ready to threaten Din off, so entirely unconcerned by what irrelevant, useless citizen of this pathetic town the stranger is here to see. But the other cocks his head a bit, before he nods. “Vanth,” he says, and there’s recognition there. Din considers that a good thing. For a moment.

“Isn’t Vanth the one we made an example out of when we arrived?”

And Din goes still. Silent. He fires his blaster square in the trooper’s chest before either of them have even realized Din’s hand has so much as moved.

It ends the way Din had hoped it might. With twenty-two Stormtroopers dead, before a single one of them can make a distress call. No civilian casualties, or even injuries. It’s a good day. When the fighting is done and the noise has all stopped, one lone man dares to venture out into the streets, as though to make certain they’re all safe. And when he’s determined that they are, the rest of the townspeople follow hesitantly out. Some cry in relief, some kick the bodies of the troopers, already taking armor off of them.

The lone man – Din recognizes him vaguely from the battle with the dragon – steps forward, to bow his head and run a litany of praise. “Thank you,” and “we weren’t certain you had heard the call, let alone that you would come,” and “those Imperial bastards have been ravaging the town for weeks.”

Din nods in his understanding, but his mind is elsewhere. He waits until the man has seemingly finished, before Din puts his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Where is Marshal Vanth?”

The relief and gratitude on the man’s face slips into something much more somber, and he drops his gaze to the sand. “Terrible business,” the man mutters, with a shake of his head. “Terrible, terrible business.”

“Where?” Din asks again, and it’s clear it isn’t a friendly query. The man points to a house that looks like many others around it, unremarkable and undistinguishable, and Din goes to it without hesitation.

The inside is as plain and simple as the outside. It would be nearly impossible to decipher who it belongs to, were it not for the red scarf laying across the nearby table. The house has so few rooms that it doesn’t take long for Din to find the single one that’s occupied.

Inside, Cobb Vanth lays on a bed on his side. An older woman, one Din doesn’t recognize, sits behind him, intently focused on the work ahead. When she hears someone enter the room, she gasps, and stands quickly, as though to give Din some show of respect.

It’s only then that Din understands what ‘being made an example of’ looks like. Cobb is shirtless, and his back is a mess of angry, bloody lash marks, some so deep that he thinks he might see muscle. They look a few days old, at least, and that they’ve been well-tended to, but they look painful. It takes Cobb a few moments before he turns his head over his shoulder, his gaze so defeated, like he’s expecting to see a Stormtrooper standing there to finish the job. But he doesn’t. He sees Din, and the way Cobb’s face lights up makes even the brightest sun in the galaxy look dim.

“You came,” he breathes, moving to sit up, but crying out in pain and laying back down when his back protests to the movement. Din moves forward instinctively, kneeling down by the edge of the bed, a firm hand resting on Cobb’s hip to keep him from moving further. Once Cobb catches his breath, he swallows hard, and turns his head to look at the woman. “Give me a few minutes, Retta,” he says, with that soft, charming little smile. She looks at him wearily, but it isn’t because she doesn’t want to leave Cobb alone with the Mandalorian. “I’m not gonna bleed out in the five minutes you’re gone,” Cobb offers instead, and she seems to relax more at that, before excusing herself from the room.

Though, when she’s gone, the first thing Cobb does is move. “Help me up,” he says, and Din would protest to it, if he didn’t know just how stubborn Vanth was. So he offers what help he can, until Vanth is sitting at the edge of the bed, and Din stays down on one knee on the floor. Cobb is pale, in pain, looks broken in all sorts of ways, but has that look about him that still says I’m the Marshal, I’m fine, wrap me up and I’ll be good to go. It wouldn’t surprise Din if those were the first words out of Vanth’s mouth after he’d been abused so badly.

“What happened?” Din says softly, hands resting on Vanth’s knees, rubbing slow, gentle circles with his thumbs. A soothing gesture, he hopes, and it seems to work, because a bit of the stiffness in Cobb’s shoulders seeps out of his muscles.

“Troopers came through the desert, looking for a place to set up a new Imperial base. I don’t give a damn what the New Republic says, those Imperial bastards are still everywhere, if you know where to look,” Cobb breathes, with a shake of his head. “Guess they thought it’d be easier to turn a town into their little outpost instead of starting fresh. So they came in and took over. Didn’t have the firepower to stop ‘em.”

Briefly, Din feels a stab of guilt. That maybe if Cobb had still had Fett’s armor, he might’ve been able to save himself and his town. But that isn’t true, and Din knows it. It took one, fully-experienced, fully-armored, pissed-off Mandalorian to take care of the troopers, and Cobb couldn’t have managed it alone.

“Played along, for a while. Didn’t want anybody getting hurt, or worse. But I been a thorn in their side since day one,” Vanth chuckles, and lightly, Din does, too. They’re both troublemakers, for the right causes. “Managed to duck ‘em for a few weeks. But then they started going after the little ones, trying to poach ‘em, get ‘em to train to be troopers. I wasn’t putting up with that. So when I tried to stop ‘em, they pulled me out into the middle of town and—” Cobb stops, gesturing vaguely to the mess at his back. “Guessin’ you can figure out the rest.”

Din exhales slowly, head dropping a little. “I’m sorry,” he says, after a few moments. But it only makes Cobb raise a brow. “For what, huh? Unless you sent ‘em here yourself, you got nothing to be sorry for.”

“I shouldn’t have left you vulnerable.” Whether that meant letting Vanth keep the armor (which Din couldn’t do), or staying behind to protect Mos Pelgo himself (which Din also couldn’t do). But there must’ve been something he could’ve done to stop this, and he didn’t. And it makes him hurt. Makes him hurt to see Cobb hurt.

Cobb brushes his hands down over the sides of Din’s helmet, pulls him in a little closer until Din can rest his head against Cobb’s chest lightly. “Ain’t your job to keep me safe,” he offers softly, because it isn’t. Cobb can take care of himself, thank you very much. And when he can’t, well—that’s life.

Another moment of heavy silence passes by, before Din reluctantly pulls away from Vanth’s touch, and goes to take his gloves off instead. “Lay down,” he instructs, as kindly and gently as he’s capable. And Cobb does without disagreement, because sitting up hurts too damn much right now. He lets out a relieved exhale when he’s back laying down, facing the stone wall ahead of him, listening to the Mandalorian shuffle around behind him.

“This’ll hurt,” Din warns, before he’s bringing the wet cloth the woman had been using to clean Vanth’s wounds to his skin. Cobb inhales sharply, but it isn’t an unbearable pain. “You even allowed to go taking your gloves off?” Vanth teases lightly, because Cobb Vanth could be broken and bleeding, but he’ll always be charming. Din doesn’t respond, but Vanth likes to think he can tell that the Mandalorian is smiling beneath that shiny helmet.

The movements are slower and more tender than Vanth ever expected a bounty hunter to be capable of. And when the water in the bowl has run red, and Cobb’s wounds are as clean as they can be, Din reaches for the cloth to wrap the wounds back up. His work there is just as steady, just as soothing, and Cobb’s eyes briefly flutter shut whenever he can feel Din’s skin brush against his own. “I’ve taken care of the troopers here,” Din explains as he works. “If you dispose of the bodies, I doubt anyone else will come looking for such a small outpost in the middle of a desert.”

And if they do? Din will make certain that he’s one call away. One signal, one click, and he’ll be there.

“Then I guess I owe you twice over, don’t I? For the troopers, and for playing medic,” Cobb hums, and he hates owing people, but he doesn’t mind owing Din.

“You owe me nothing,” Din says quickly in return, and he means it. He means it. And that doesn’t sound like the kind of tone Vanth was to argue with, so he doesn’t.

When his back is bandaged securely, Din runs his fingers over the layers of cloth strips, wishing he could heal it all with a simple touch. But he can’t. He can’t do anything to make this right.

But he can give Vanth something else.

With Cobb still facing away from him, Din’s hands go to his helmet. And Cobb holds his breath when he hears the thing come off, closes his eyes tight, even though he can’t see Din from where he’s laying, anyways. It just feels—respectful. Right.

Cobb is no stranger to touch, of course. He’s spent a few too many nights alone in the Cantina, after all, just looking for a good time. But when Din’s lips brush so lightly over Cobb’s shoulder, the first piece of exposed skin he can reach that isn’t bloodied, Cobb swears he could damn near cry. It’s such an intimate thing, so much more intimate in ways Vanth can’t even begin to explain.

“I’m sorry,” Din says again, his lips brushing Vanth’s shoulder as he speaks. Another kiss, then, to Cobb’s bicep. And as Din raises up on his knees, he can see that Cobb’s eyes are shut, and the warmth that fills Din is so overwhelming. Everyone he’s ever met has asked about the helmet, has all but begged him to see beneath it. And Din knows Cobb wants to see, too. But Din’s comfort and his Creed matter to Vanth, and he puts that before his own desire, even at his weakest.

Vanth is trembling lightly by the time Din kisses his cheek, and every part of Cobb wants to turn and catch Din’s lips, but he doesn’t. Doesn’t let himself push so far, because this intimacy is a gift he’s being given, and he knows better than to push his luck, or worse, be ungrateful.

“It isn’t my job to keep you safe,” Din agrees, so desperately softly. “But I’d like it to be.” And Din kisses Cobb properly, then, feels those rough lips against his own, and they melt into one another. But Cobb is still hurt, and Din is hyper-aware of that, so he pulls back long before either of them will need to start gasping for air, even when Vanth chases after the kiss in desperate for more.

No one’s ever offered to keep Cobb safe before. He’s always been something of a lone ranger, always keeping other people safe, always the first line of defense. And Maker, he wants to keep Din safe, too, but there’s really not much he can do for a man that’ll jet straight inside of a damned dragon without telling anyone about it first. Maybe the best that they can do is… protect each other. Or do their hardest.

“C’mere,” Vanth says, gesturing with his head to what little space is left in front of him on the bed. And armor and all, Din lays down with Cobb, and brings his hand up to brush over Vanth’s cheek. Cobb chases the touch like he needs it to survive, eyes still shut so tightly, just trying to get a feel for Din without really seeing him. He nestles in closer against all of that beskar, cool to the touch even under the hot suns. It settles and soothes him, makes him relax more than he has in months, let alone since the Stormtroopers invaded.

“Cobb,” Din half-whispers, in an attempt not to disturb the peace he’s created. “You can open your eyes.” Vanth recoils the barest bit, like he’s absolutely shocked, like even though he’s been given permission, he doesn’t know if he’s allowed. It makes Din smile, and he rubs his thumb over Cobb’s cheek. “You can. It’s okay.”

So, he does.

And he studies Din’s face for a long, long time. Takes in every inch of him, like he’s worried he’s gonna have to memorize this now, because he’ll never be able to see it again. “Huh,” Cobb says, after a moment. “Brown eyes.” He doesn’t know why he’d been expecting green.

“Brown eyes,” Din chuckles softly with a nod, still so unused to being... seen. Once the initial shock of getting to see Din has left Cobb, the barest hint of a smirk tugs at his lips. “Knew you’d be too damn handsome for your own good,” he says, just to see if he can get Din’s cheeks to go pink. And they do, a bit. It’s rewarding as all hell.

And this time, it’s Vanth that kisses Din first. And he goes slow, takes his time, brings his own hand up to brush through Din’s hair. It’s soft. Perfect. Just like everything else about him. Cobb knows in that moment that he’d do anything Din ever asked of him, and Din knows he’d do the same in return. Amongst all of the blood, and the sand, and the pain, they’ve found… this. Whatever this is. It’s more than either of them think they deserve, but neither of them are going to complain about having it. And as much as they both wish it hadn’t taken a public lashing to get here, fate isn’t always the kindest thing.

When they pull away, Cobb’s panting a bit, and Din’s trying not to. Can’t let Vanth see him breathless, otherwise his ego might swell too big for his own good.

“Think I could get used to keeping a Mandalorian around,” Cobb smiles.

Din mirrors the expression. “Think I could get used to staying.”

[thebookreader12345]

On the Loose - Chapter Two

Chapter One   Chapter Three   Chapter Four   Chapter Five

“Y/N! Y/N! Would you slow down?” Jay called out as I made my way out of the house. I ignored him calling my name and continued making my way past all of the law enforcement workers milling around outside. “Y/N! Would you just stop for a moment?!” I quickly stopped in my tracks, causing Jay’s chest to bump into my back. “Can we talk? Please.”

I turned around so fast I think I may have given myself whiplash. “What the hell is there to talk about, Jay? A serial killer just told me that they’re after me.”

“And I understand that but-” 

I cut Jay off. “How in the world can you understand that? Sure, you may have had criminals come after you before in the past, but a serial killer? That’s a whole other territory, and none of us have been here before. I’m the first, and because of that, I’m freaking out.”

“Which is why I’d like to talk to you. I don’t want you going through this alone. I’m right here, Y/N,” Jay murmured and placed a hand on my arm. As comforting as that whole speech and gesture was, it didn’t make me feel any better. I was still scared out of my mind.

“I’ll uh, I’ll meet you back at the district,” I mumble and make my way over to Kevin’s car, leaving Jay standing alone in the front yard of the our newest crime scene.

....................................

“All right. What do we know?” Voight asked.

“Well, our killer has murdered 2 women in the past few days, both the same exact way. Multiple stab wounds to the chest and abdomen. And because of the location of some of the wounds, we’re guessing most of them were done post-mortem,” Kevin informed us.

“So we’ve got a violent offender. Did you cross reference that MO with cases Y/N has worked in the past?” Voight questioned.

“Well, since a lot of the older cases aren’t up online, we’ve have to go through them by hand. We’ve put a dent in the pile, but there’s a lot of cases we still have to go through. And so far, we’ve got nothing, Boss,” Adam admitted.

Voight sighed and glanced over at me. “Y/N, do you remember anyone that fits this description?”

I shook my head. “No. Why would I? We’ve had, what? 2 serial killer cases up here. And in patrol the most violent offender I arrested was a robber with a hammer. Lets just face it. We’ve got nothing. The crime scene analysts have nothing. This person is a pro, and chances are, we’re never going to catch them.”

“Y/N, don’t say that,” Jay spoke.

“Why the hell not? It’s my life that’s on the line, so I have the right. Excuse me,” I say and push past everyone to get to the locker room. Once I got there, I slid down the back wall and brought my knees close to my chest. Everyone probably thought I was calm, but on the inside, I was freaking out. I sat there with my head in my arms for a few minutes before the locker room door opened, and Kevin poked his head around the row of lockers.

“Hey. You okay?” Kevin asked and made his way over to me.

“Would you believe me if I said I was fine?” I question and look up at him.

“No,” Kevin replied and took a seat on the bench in front of me. “You want to talk about it?”

I sighed. “Do we have to?”

“Everyone’s worried about you, Y/N. We just want to help,” Kevin spoke.

“And I get that. It’s just, none of you are the ones with your life on the line. This killer is coming after me, and I feel helpless,” I explain. Kevin leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“Well, you’ve got all of us to keep you safe. And when I say that none of us are going to let some serial killer hurt you, I mean that,” Kevin said.

“Thanks, Kev. We should uh, we should get back to the bullpen,” I murmur and stand up, dusting myself off. Kevin and I then walked back to the bullpen, where everyone was sitting at their computers typing away. Just as I sat down, Kim slid away from her desk and made her way over to the white board.

“So, Adam and I have been going through POD footage and street cameras to see if we could something at the locations of the crimes. And I got something,” Kim informed us and placed two pictures on the white board, both showing a small, blue Chevy. “This car was spotted at both crime scenes during the times of death given to us by the medical examiner.”

“Who’s the car belong to?” Jay asked.

“Uh, it’s a rental from Billy’s Rent-A-Car,” Kim answered.

“All right. Burgess, take L/N and go check the place out. See if anyone remembers selling the car, check security cameras, the works,” Voight ordered. Kim and I drove to Billy’s Rent-A-Car, and there was a handsome, dark skinned young man standing at the front desk whose name tag read Hudson.

“How can I help you ladies?” Hudson asked as we approached the desk. I unclipped my badge from my waistband and showed it to him.

“I’m Detective L/N, and this is Officer Burgess. Were you working yesterday morning and afternoon?” I question.

“As a matter of fact, yes. One of my co-workers is on vacation, so I’ve been taking his shifts,” Hudson answered.

“Great. Do you remember selling a small, blue Chevy? It would have been around that time,” Kim said.

“Uh, yeah. Give me a minute,” Hudson told us. He then turned around to the file cabinet behind him and started digging through it. After a few seconds, he pulled out a piece of paper and turned back towards us. “The car was registered to a John Smith.”

“Fake name,” I point out to Kim before directing my attention back to Hudson. “We’re going to need to take a look at your security footage.”

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but our cameras haven’t been working the past few days, and my boss is too lazy to call the tech guys down here,” Hudson informed us.

Kim sighed. “Do you happen to remember what the man who purchased the car looked like?”

“Actually, I do,” Hudson replied. “He was about 6 feet tall, late 30′s, maybe. And he had blonde hair and green eyes.”

“Thank you for your time, Hudson. If you remember anything else, call me,” I declare and slide my card across the desk. Back at the district, since it was getting late, Voight let us all go home for the night. I was exhausted, and as soon as I entered my apartment, I kicked off my shoes, put on a t-shirt and shorts, and climbed into bed. Jay had also told me that he was going to stay the night, which I didn’t mind. He crawled into bed a few minutes after I did and pulled me to his chest.

“Don’t worry,” Jay murmured and placed a kiss on the top of my head. “We’ve got a description of our guy, and a lot to go off of. We’re going to catch this guy. I promise.”

“We can only hope,” I mumble and bury my face into his chest. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I do remember being shaken away by Jay. “What?” I question sleepily.

“There’s another body,” Jay informed me.

“Okay, but why do we have to go down to the crime scene?” I ask.

“Cause this crime scene is different. This time, there isn’t just a note. There are photos too,” Jay responded.

_______________________________

Tag List:

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[cupidcreates]

Love You Equally

Chapter Twenty-Six: Splintered

Part 2: The Sleepover

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS NS//FW MATERIAL, VIEWER DESCRESION IS ADVISED

Also this is my first time writing sm//ut so please be nice 😖

Tamaki took another twenty minutes before finally emerging from the bathroom, puffy-eyed and still sniffling his lanky frame drawn as far into itself as he could manage. He pressed his palms into his eyes as he approached you, screwing up his face in an attempt to suppress the tears undoubtedly still on the threshold of escaping. You immediately rose from your spot on the bed and pulled him into a tight embrace, allowing him to lay his head on your shoulder and rub his cheek into you, still trembling with the effort of quelling his emotions.

It killed you inside to see him like this; the devastated look on his face when you both realized your other four boyfriends had gone off for a date without you, without even thinking to invite either of you, or even tell you they had made plans together. It felt like a deliberate exclusion, a purposeful rejection of your company and it was very hard to not take it personally.

You tried to rationalize the situation; you really shouldn’t be upset, should you? After all, you and Tamaki had spent Saturday together without informing your other four partners of this plan, why would it be different that they’d done the same? However, you just couldn’t shake the feeling that this was different somehow; like it was more deliberate and planned than your spontaneous trip home with one of your partners. It was less like your random adventures you frequently drug one of them along on and more like retribution for something you and Tamaki might have done. It felt personal, you couldn’t deny that.

However, what you could deny was your responsibility in handling it for the night. It was already very late, you and Tamaki were both exhausted and it was indisputable that it was better for you both - for your relationship as a whole - that you both get to bed and worry about it in the morning. Everything could be sorted out after a good night's sleep.

You took Tamaki by both hands and led him to bed, laying him down on his side and tucking yourself in next to him, pulling his head to your chest and stroking his hair. Tamaki shuddered and sniffled for a while after this before eventually falling silent, breaths evening out and body slackening with sleep. You gazed over his head and out your window for a while after he drifted off, the frost had settled back over the grounds, making the grass and barren trees shimmer in the moonlight with an ethereal luminescence only present in the winter months.

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep but you must have, because when you opened your eyes again you were in a different position than before. At some point in the night Tamaki had pulled you down so your face was level with his. He shifted and sighed in his sleep, hot breath ghosting across your face bringing with it the pepper-minty smell of your toothpaste. He’d pulled your bodies flush against one another, so that every bit of you save for your face was in contact with a part of him. He was hot against you, on the cusp of feverish and if it had been any other season but winter it would have been too much. However, even the excellent central heating of UA could only do so much against the blistering winter winds and bone-chilling cold that seeped through even the most miniscule of cracks.

Shifting slowly so as not to wake the sleeping man next to you, you lifted your head to check the clock on your nightstand. The time read 2:34am, you’d only managed to be asleep for a little over an hour and a half. You doubted very much that you’d be in the right headspace for class at 9am and doubted even more that Tamaki would either. You sighed and resigned yourself to a Monday in bed, laying your head back down and gazing into the peaceful face of your lover. Tamaki was extraordinarily pretty, unfathomably soft and gentle; his sweetness was only compounded in sleep. You pushed your face into his neck and inhaled his scent, the light smell of fresh linen relaxing you and bringing a soft smile to your face. You couldn’t help but pepper his neck with small kisses and gentle nips, reveling in the feel of his skin on your lips and between your teeth.

This, however, effectively disturbed Tamaki’s slumber and he quickly awoke with a soft groan and a sigh. He opened his eyes slowly and moved back just enough to peer down at you through dewy dark eyelashes; you gave him a comforting smile and a small bunny kiss. He blushed as you rubbed your nose against his, making you giggle. His blush deepened as he turned his head to bury half of his face in his pillow, gazing doefully up at you and smiling. You placed a kiss on his exposed cheek and pushed your fingers up through his hair, earning you another soft sigh.

“Hey you,” you said, massaging his scalp, “Are you feeling any better after having slept a bit?”

“A-a b-bit,” he replied, voice hoarse with sleep, “a-a-are you d-doing okay?”

“I’m fine, I’ve been fine honestly,” you said “I was more worried about you, I hate seeing you so sad like that Tama, it breaks my heart.”

Tamaki sighed and began shifting himself, re-adjusting your already close position into one a bit more comfortable “I-I think,” he stammered, “I t-t-think I m-might have o-overreacted a b-bit. I m-maybe assumed the w-worst and r-reacted d-dramatically.”

You nodded understandingly and allowed yourself to be moved into whatever arrangement Tamaki saw fit. “Your feelings are valid though Tama, you should never feel bad for having them. It’s better to acknowledge and express them than it is to bottle them up and repress them.”

“I-I know,” he said, still shifting you both around, “But I-I still think I c-could have-”

Suddenly Tamaki’s body went rigid, his eyes snapped open as he let out a startled gasp followed by a deep, guttural groan. You lay puzzled for a moment wondering what could have brought about this reaction, until you felt a hardness push directly against your crotch.

This wasn’t the first time this week Tamaki had gotten hard while in bed with you, in fact it was more common for him to wake up with an erection than not. You weren’t unfamiliar with the term morning wood, so you had expected it to happen at some point. You didn’t blame him for it, you knew it was completely normal for genitals to be ready to go for no reason at all; in fact  you knew that from your own experience of drenching yourself without any external stimuli that this was just a thing that happened sometimes.

This time, however, felt different. This time Tamaki didn’t stammer out a hasty and sheepish apology before rushing off to the bathroom to hide his embarrassment from you. No, this time Tamaki simply froze, crotch still pressed directly into yours mid-grind. Not finishing the motion, but not necessarily pulling away from you either. His face was completely blank, his blush still present but expression completely unreadable.

It was then, fuck, it was then that you felt him throb against you.

Your mouth suddenly felt very dry as a soft whimper escaped your boyfriend, he covered his mouth and ducked his head to avoid making eye contact with you. You immediately moved to pull his hand away, only for him to suddenly grab your ass and grind his heard length directly against your clit.

Sparks of pleasure danced up your spine and something between you two broke. Before you even knew what was happening your lips were crashing onto his in a searing kiss, your tongue immediately finding his and winding it way around it. You gripped his hips and matched his movement, pushing and grinding against him and swallowing the groans he emitted into your mouth.

You quickly found yourself pushed down into the mattress, Tamaki overtop you pushing his hips into yours with the perfect amount of pressure. You made a mental note to ask him how much time he’d been spending with Dabi because his hip movements seemed to mimic Dabi’s to near perfection. His grinding was slow and filthy, completely controlled and unhurried; he seemed to want to revel in every push against your core, circling his hips in a way that hit your clit with every motion and made you see stars. 

You cupped his face to control the kiss, only for him to pin both of your hands above your head and tongue-fuck your mouth. You were quickly getting dizzy from the overwhelming heat between your bodies and you felt the wetness of your cunt cling to your underwear, spreading across the fabric with every thrust of Tamaki’s hips.

He pulled back, a thin line of spit connecting your lips for a fraction of a second before breaking. He was panting and quivering above you, a concerned look on his flushed face.

“Is this, is this okay with you right now?” He asked. You couldn’t help but notice the lack of stutter as he spoke. Seemingly his ability to speak without stammering was only present when he was pushed into a lust-fueled haze.

You swallowed, mouth still too dry and replied, “I’m okay with this if you are, I’ve done this before so it’s up to you how far we go tonight.” You were already wishing for the warmth of his kiss back, the cold air feeling like a slap to the face after the extreme heat you were under assault from a moment ago.

Tamaki’s face went lax and his eyes glazed over, as if he could read your mind he immediately resumed the kiss, tongue thrusting back into your mouth and wrapping itself around your own, making you groan.

“I want to,” he spoke between kisses, “I want you. I want to do everything with you. I - fuck - want to do everything to you. I want to fuck you.”

That simple declaration sent a series of electric shocks up up your spine and had heat pooling in your groin instantaneously. You wrapped a leg around him and ground yourself up into him, earning you a guttural moan and two hands underneath you groping your ass. He lifted you up and pushed you into him, controlling the motion and fucking himself against you, head bumping your clit with every movement and making you shudder.

You broke the kiss and pressed a hand to his chest, he let down your hips and you flipped him over, straddling him and immediately resuming the kiss. He groaned as you stuck a hand down his pants and grabbed his cock, gasping as you pumped the head several times. You pushed your other hand into your own pants and sunk two fingers into your wet heat, pumping them in time with your fist around Tamaki’s cock.

Just when you thought he was close you pulled back, swinging yourself off of him and making your way over to your nightstand drawer. You hadn’t started the year off with condoms, but you’d decided to stock up after your first kiss with Dabi. You’d figured it was only a matter of time before things got physical with one (or maybe more) of your soulmates. Though you hadn’t expected it to be Tamaki who made the first move, you couldn’t say you were upset by this development. Next to you Tamaki pulled his underwear down and off one leg, moving the blanket to cover his now exposed and throbbing cock from the chill of the room.

You returned and shucked your own pajama bottoms off along with your underwear, you didn’t bother with the shirt but instead bent down to capture his lips in another kiss as you rolled the condom onto his cock. Tamaki wasn’t the longest you’d ever seen, probably no more than six or seven inches at best, but he was definitely among the thickest you’ve seen. 

In any case you placed a hand on his chest and positioned the head of his cock outside your drenched entrance. You lowered yourself slowly onto him, reveling in the stretch and burn of his cock sinking into you. Below you Tamaki gasped and twitched as you sunk onto him, excruciatingly slow. He squirmed as you seated yourself onto him, whimpering at the feeling of being fully enveloped in your heat.

You allowed yourself a moment to adjust to the feeling, Tamaki was thicker than you had previously realized and he stretched your walls nearly to their limits. Tamaki gripped your hips hard enough that you knew you’d have bruises come tomorrow. You didn’t mind and instead focused on making small circles with your hips to relax your body and allow yourself to accommodate his thickness.

Once you felt comfortable enough to move you braced yourself against his chest with both hands and lifted about halfway off of him before slamming back down, making you both cry out. Tamaki groaned and thrust up against you as you repeatedly impaled yourself on his cock, pleasure building in the pit of your stomach as he brushed the sweet spot inside of you with every other movement.

Tamaki, you quickly found, was very vocal, whimpering and crying out underneath you, every thrust accompanied by a desperate noise or a whispered beg. You shifted and laid yourself flat against him, swallowing his words mid-sentence with a kiss. You pushed your tongue into his mouth as you rolled your hips against him, the head of his cock now putting a constant pressure against your g-spot. Tamaki adjusted his thrusts to sink into at this angle, grabbing your ass with both hands and fucking himself into you, pace forgotten as he used your body to chase his pleasure.

You managed to get a hand in between your bodies to push and circle your clit, the added pressure and constant massaging of your g-spot sending you racing towards your impending orgasm. You could feel Tamaki was getting close as well, if the stuttering of his hips and increased volume of his cries were anything to go by. You were so close, you could feel it, you were right there. You just needed a few more thrusts, a few more moments before you were pushed over the edge.

It was then that Tamaki gave a particularly hard thrust and your dam broke, your orgasm crashed against you like a wave against the rocky coast. You cried out as you came, clenching around the cock buried inside you and pushing Tamaki over the edge into his own orgasm. He gave one final cry and released inside of you, twitching and shuddering as he came down from his high.

You fell atop him, completely stated, body leadened and lethargic as you panted against his skin. He rubbed your back as he caught his breath and pressed small kisses to your forehead. It was several minutes before you were able to right yourself and pull Tamaki’s softening cock out of you and roll off of him; curling up underneath his arm and laying a hand on his chest. Tamaki tossed the condom into the trash beside your bed and wrapped himself around you. You both fell into a comfortable silence, allowing yourselves to catch your breath as the post-orgasm tingles abated. It wasn’t long until you both drifted off to sleep, still curled up in each other's arms.

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[waywardodysseys]

Gone So Long - Oneshot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader

Warnings: cussing, smut, oral receiving (m & f), unprotected sex (wrap it up), roughness

~   ~   ~

You’re sitting in the lab with Rhodey while he’s having a hologram conference with Secretary of State Ross. You cross your arms as you swivel in your chair, listening to them converse about the Accords. You hear a door open and stop dead. Your eyes take in a determined Nat and a rugged looking Steve walking confidently towards Rhodey and the hologram secretary. You notice Wanda, Vision, and Sam walking behind them.

Your throat swells and your heart quickens as you stand. You haven’t seen the five of them in over two years. They’re a sight to behold with your tired eyes.

You watch as Steve confronts the secretary, his voice clipped and bitter. Ross eyes the nomad Avenger and gives Rhodey an order to apprehend the five of them since they’ve been on the run and did not partake in signing of the Sokovia Accords.

“All over it,” Rhodey remarks before making the secretary disappear.

You watch as Steve, Nat, and Rhodey greet one another. Rhodey knows arresting them isn’t a high priority. Nat smiles widely at you as she makes her way towards you.

“Y/N!” Nat embraces you tightly then pulls back and looks at you. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you smile weakly in return.

Bruce takes this opportunity to make himself known. He waves at Nat.

“Hi Bruce,” Nat looks at him with astonishment.

You know they haven’t seen each other in years either. You look between the two as your eyes travel over to Steve. You take in the longer blond hair, the beard on his face. Your body resonates with heat as you recall the night before he left the compound to fight Tony regarding Bucky. You knew Steve was not going to sign the Accords because Bucky mattered most to him, not you. But the man spent the night loving you intimately. He took his time with you and you did the same with him.

You had gradually come to terms with Steve leaving you for Bucky, but you knew the two friends always had one another no matter what. Therefore, you forgave Steve and let go of the hate filled resentment you had towards him when he left you behind.

Or had you?

Rhodey breaks the awkward silence between everyone, “how about you guys get some rest before we discuss matters?”

“Stark’s gone Rhodey,” Steve declares.

“I know,” Rhodey asserts, “but we all need clear minds to discuss everything. Meet back in an hour?”

Steve looks at everyone, his eyes land on you. “Fine.”

The group disperses to other areas of the floor which leaves you alone with Steve.

You turn on your heel to leave but Steve takes two wide steps and grabs your arm, forcing you to turn and face him.

“I have nothing to say to you,” you ground out as you look deep into his blue eyes.

Steve sighs and nearly shouts, “I had to go!”

“I know. You wanted to save Bucky.”

“You know how much Bucky means to me,” Steve grounds out.

“I do! And apparently, I didn’t mean as much,” you hiss.

“You were better off not getting involved! I couldn’t risk you being on the run—”

“Like you’ve been?” You interrupt.

Steve sighs heavily, “those fucking Accords put the government in charge of the Avengers. They dictate every move! You know I didn’t want that!”

You did. Steve had been adamant about not wanting to sign them. He had faith in his own judgement and didn’t need someone else controlling his life. In a way, Steve felt like if he had signed the Accords, he’d be brainwashed into doing questionable and controversial deeds like Bucky had been doing prior to Steve saving him.

And you had acquiesced in his decision. Part of you wondered for days if you should have fought harder to go with him because if you had you wouldn’t be looking at Steve like a stranger.

“I was protecting you,” Steve utters after minutes of silence.

“You were protecting yourself!” You nearly shout at him. You’re filled with anger and pain, yet you knew he’d pick the best friend over the lover. Maybe you hadn’t forgiven him.

You turn on your heel and walk away from him.

Steve watches you retreat then sees everyone’s eyes on him. He clenches his fists as he moves his feet towards the hallway you walked down. He knows everyone in the compound is the only hope the world has, and he doesn’t need his return to keep you further away from him.

Steve had kept you at a distance after Sokovia and during the battle with Tony because he didn’t want to risk losing both you and Bucky. He thought it best to protect you by leaving you behind because you’d be more value to Tony and Rhodey. You’d be able to help them protect the world while he was protecting Bucky and keeping watch over Wanda and Vision.

Yet when he saw Wanda and Vision together, he missed you desperately and wanted you with him. Steve had to keep his distance because once Nat found out he wanted to see you, she would tell him not to try anything because if someone saw him, especially Tony, he would be reprimanded and turned into the authorities because of the Accords.

Steve catches up to you outside of your living quarters. He reaches for your arm, spins you around and captures your mouth with his. He knows he must make up for lost time. He needs to atone for leaving you behind.

You can’t help but give into the kiss. You’ve missed him, missed all of him – his mouth, his body, his hands, his cock.

After the door swooshes open, Steve keeps his mouth glued to yours and walks you backwards into your room. When your legs hit the mattress Steve pulls faintly away and pushes you into the mattress and holds you by your wrists and slowly grinds into you as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. His grinds against your core makes your body overheat with ache for him.

“Steve,” you pant lustfully.

Steve pants on your neck and whispers, “I’ve missed you Y/N,” he pauses, “I’ve been wanting to feel your legs wrapped around me tightly while I’m inside of you.”

You moan lowly at his words. You need him.

Steve begins kissing your neck and whispering your name.

“Fuck,” you hiss out while trying to break free, “I’ve missed you too. And I fucking need you. Please!”

Steve scrapes his beard along your skin as he removes one hand from your wrists and palms your core. He’s able to feel the heat vibrating from it. He inwardly moans and his cock hardens.

“You’re wet,” Steve pants.

You keep your mouth shut because you know your response of obviously would be snarky. All you wanted, needed was the man to give you multiple orgasms. You also needed to feel his tongue against your sensitive area, along with feeling his thick hard cock buried deep inside of your pussy.

“Did you get off to me?” Steve asks as he releases your other wrist.

His fingers are fumbling at undoing your pants. He pushes them down your legs, along with your underwear, and pulls them off.

“Yes,” you moan in response as you watch Steve dip his head down between your legs.

Steve grazes his beard along an inner thigh as he opens your slick folds. His blue eyes look into your eyes as he licks up your folds then flicks his tongue against your clit.

You moan loudly as clutch the bedding. Your body humming as Steve begins to circle your clit and suck on it gently.

You had gotten off to the memory of his tongue against your clit, his cock inside of you, his hands and mouth traveling over your body. Nothing beat the real thing, and here he was giving you the real pleasure you deserved after being apart.

Your orgasm building inside of you as you watch Steve devour you.

“Oh—fu—mmm,” your panting as you feel the pleasure within you igniting as your toes curl, “Steve!”

Steve feels your body shudder under his tongue. His cock hardening more from your cries of ecstasy and the thrill of hearing his name escape from your mouth as he gives you what you’ve desperately needed from him.

He lifts your shirt and kisses your stomach, making sure he scrapes your flesh with his beard. He feels your fingers moving through his hair as he leaves love bites along your skin. He loved marking you as he gave you orgasm after orgasm. Nothing’s changed and he’ll continue to mark you as his because you are the woman he needs to survive, the woman he needs to push through what awaits everyone in the coming days.

You whimper as Steve stands and begins to remove his stealth suit. You lick your lips as his flesh becomes visible to your eyes. His thick cock is hard and at attention. You want to wrap your mouth around it but you haven’t touched his flesh and you need it under your fingertips first.

You sit up and move your hands up his stomach and chest. You gradually stand and place kisses over his pectoral muscles. You feel Steve’s hands travel over your shoulders and down your back. His touch is feather light and slow. You nip at the base of his neck then pull his mouth down to yours.

Your lips are soft against his as your fingers play with the ends of hair. Your mouth becomes hungry as you pull Steve deeper into the kiss. You pull back from him and smile as you trace his mouth with a finger.

“On the bed,” you instruct the naked super soldier.

Steve grins as he does what he is told. You turn and look at him as he looks up at you and moves his hands over your breasts and stomach.

You moan as his fingers roam your naked skin, soaking in the gratification of what pleasures await you.

“Lie back Steve,” you order.

Steve scoots back on the mattress and lies back. He feels it dip down as you kneel beside his body. He halfway sits up and watches as you engulf his cock with your mouth. He inhales a sharp breath as your tongue moves along the underside of his cock. He feels you moan against it which sends his body into overdrive causing heat to flood his body and making his orgasm rise quickly inside of him.

“Y/N,” Steve moans deeply as he moves his hands through your hair.

You moan against his cock as you move your mouth up and down, coating his cock in your saliva.

Steve’s fingers apply pressure against your scalp. “Ride me! I need to be in you.”

You move your head up and down slowly. You swirl your tongue around the tip before you release his cock.

You place a hand on Steve’s cock as you straddle him. You rise your body up, move his cock between your folds, and slowly sink onto him.

You moan lowly as you take him fully in. Your hands are splayed on Steve’s chest as you begin to roll your hips and arch your back. Your fingers dig into his skin at feeling him inside of your slick canal after a prolonged duration apart.

The rolling of your hips become merciless as pleasure envelops you. Your orgasm rising steadily as you begin to feel Steve thrusting up into your depths, trying to meet the rolling of your hips.

Steve places his hands on your hips, grasping them tightly. He begins to lean forward but you stop him.

“No!” You half shout, half hiss as you push him down.

You need him to know with you on top, you are in control. You want to be the one to enjoy the pleasure his cock gives you in this position. You need to take your time as you feel your orgasm rising inside of you because you know once your body gives in to him, Steve will take control and make sure he gets off inside of you while you writhe under him.

“Fuck,” you hiss as your orgasm nears the edge.

You tilt your head back and bite your bottom lip. Your back arches as your fingers dig into Steve. The rolling your hips becoming rapid as your orgasm begins to release itself inside of you.

“Steve,” you moan loudly, “Steve!”

Your voice cracks in a half pant, half cry as your orgasm rolls over you. Your body quivers atop Steve’s as your orgasm consumes you.

Steve feels your hold on him loosen as he feels your pussy clenching his cock. He leans forwards and wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight against him. He nips at your neck as he feels your shaky fingers move across his shoulders.

He pulls you down with him then halfway down he flips you onto your back. Steve smirks as he looks down at your naked body under him. His hard cock remains inside of your wet depths.

Steve removes his cock then plunges into your depths with one swift thrust, making you moan loudly and arch your back. He begins pounding you roughly as his hands lock onto your arms and keeps them entrapped on the bed.

“Fuck,” Steve moans as he feels your tightness around him. He feels your warmth and wetness too. He’s always preferred this position because of the intimacy it gave the two of you. Now he’s enjoying this position because he’s gained control over you.

Your body’s still on a high from the two orgasms he’s already given you. You keep tightening your slick walls around him when he plunges into you repeatedly, keep trying to roll your hips up to meet his forceful thrusts.

Steve moans loudly and deeply as he fucks you. Frustration and deprivation had been consuming him for two years. He’s finally able to release them as he finds solace between your legs and in your arms.

You wrap your legs around Steve tightly as he leans down and captures your mouth with his. Your bodies entwined, moving together as one. The fervent carnal urge inside you both reaching its heightened delight as you and Steve finally are moving against one another – flesh against flesh.

“Y/N,” Steve pants as his orgasm crests inside of him.

“Steve,” you half moan, half whisper as you let yourself get taken over the edge again.

Steve releases your arms and you immediately wrap them around him. Your fingers dig into his back as he thrusts roughly into you as he empties himself inside of you. He feels your pussy pulsating around his cock as your orgasm makes your body tremble.

Steve’s breathless as he places his head in the crook of your neck. The smell of sex fills his nostrils as he listens to your heart thumping inside of your chest. He runs a hand over your collarbone as he nips at your skin. His teeth leaving a fainted red mark on your skin.

You moan lowly as you run a hand over his hot skin. Your body sedated from the fucking you just received.

Steve wishes there wasn’t an emergency, wish the world didn’t need saving. He was ready to leave with you and never look back.

He wasn’t going to leave you behind the next time.

Tags: @random066​