#but it was fun to work on something I hadn’t touched in almost exactly a year

[doctorsiren]

Thank you to everyone who joined me on stream this afternoon over on my channel! I worked on an SSAU animatic that I sketched out in Feb 2023 and it was a chill time ^^

[navybrat817]

Teacher's Pet

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You role-play a bit with Bucky before a costume party. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, role-play, inner monologue, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fic #6 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Not exactly a costume party with this Stud and Smartie poll winner, but close? @mumbles411, I think you'll appreciate it.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Tonight was Tony's Halloween party and it was the perfect excuse to bring one of Bucky's fantasies to life. Months back, he told you about a particular role-play he wanted to try. You, shockingly, didn’t jump him then and there when you asked him to repeat himself, which he did. Right against the shell of your ear.

"I wanna fuck you while you wear a schoolgirl outfit."

Whatever you want, Stud.

You had to admit to yourself, that particular fantasy sounded like fun. You hadn’t thought about fucking any of your teachers before. Had Bucky actually been one of your professors, however, you would’ve been more than willing to cross a line. Who wouldn’t risk it all for him?

You inspected yourself in your mirror with a soft groan as you twirled. You reassured yourself after a moment that you looked good and Bucky would love your costume, if that's what you'd call it. The soft blue cardigan matched one of the shades in the short plaid skirt, which barely covered your ass. The white button-up exposed your midriff, along with the top of your bra, and the knee-high socks provided the finishing touch.

I look sultry, right? No, innocent. Both? Sulocent? Innotry?

With a deep breath, you pushed your door open and left your room to find him.

Oh, fuck.

You weren't sure if you said the words in your head or out loud as you spotted him standing beside the bookshelf in the living room. Everything went quiet in your mind as his gorgeous eyes met yours, but your heart almost raced out of your chest. Instead of his normal work or casual clothes, he had a tight sweater vest over a nice shirt and tie. The outfit made your massive boyfriend look even larger than normal somehow. He even wore a pair of fake glasses to complete his look.

“Well, look at you,” he said, the corner of his lip tugging in a smile as you bit your lip.

Yeah, look at me.

Something predatory in Bucky’s gaze surfaced as he dragged his eyes down the length of your body. You worried initially that the costume was cliche when there were so many others to choose from, but you felt sexy from the way he looked you over. You could’ve worn a hideous costume and he would’ve managed to find a way to compliment you. Tearing your gaze away to glance at the clock, you realized you had time to have some fun together before you had to leave for the party. At least, you hoped he wanted to fool around.

“Professor Barnes,” you breathed, hoping the next words out of your mouth wouldn’t sound ridiculous as you smoothed out your skirt. “Do you have a few minutes to discuss my paper? I want to make sure it’s perfect before I turn it in.”

You weren’t sure if he wanted to experience a bit of role-play before the party, but you wanted to give it to him if he did. The two of you did your best to please one another and it would be something for him to remember for days to come. You would, too.

And I can play it off if he decides he’s not into it, right?

He pushed himself away from the bookshelf to walk toward you, taking slow and deliberate steps as your breath hitched. “Do you normally violate the dress code when you want to discuss a paper? Not what I expect from my top student,” he said, making you swallow as he brushed a finger along one of the buttons on your top. “Or were you just trying to get my attention?”

“I’m going to a party,” you answered, smiling to yourself when he raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure I’ll catch someone’s eye.”

Bucky jaw clenched he stepped closer, forcing you to take a step back with wide eyes. “Is that right? Who said you’ll have time to go to this party?” he asked, backing you up until you were in your bedroom again. “If you really want your paper to be perfect, we’ll have to go through it line by line. That could take quite a bit of time.”

You tried to keep your breathing even as your eyes stayed on him, praying you appeared seductive as you walked backwards until your hips met your desk. “A bit of time? That could take all night, Professor,” you protested, lost in his gaze as he pushed a thigh between your legs.

“I’m counting on it,” he said, his voice quiet and deep as he braced a hand on each side of you. How was it possible for you to come undone when he hadn’t actually touched you? “You still want to be my top student, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” you answered as he leaned in, his breath fanning along your lips.

“Good girl,” he whispered, not kissing you just yet as you whimpered. Praise from Bucky always spread warmth through your core. “You do want to be my good girl, right?”

A shiver rolled down your spine when he brought his hands up to cup your face. It didn’t matter how he dressed or acted or what games you played. You knew in your heart this was your Bucky, your roommate, your everything. You were his as much as he was yours. So if he wanted you to be his good girl, you’d give him that.

“Yes, Professor,” you whispered.

His mouth hovered over yours before he kissed you, your mouth moving in perfect time with his. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils when you inhaled, the touch and smell of him a sensual assault on your senses. The kiss was deep and thorough, a promise of what was to come. It made your head spin when his tongue brushed against yours, your hands flying up to his shoulders because you feared you’d collapse otherwise.

We really might not make it to the party.

“Turn around,” he ordered, his voice rough as he backed up enough for you to face your desk. Your body felt hot and needy, desperate as you fell into that familiar pit of need you often found yourself in with him. “And bend over.”

Blood warmed your cheeks as you bent over as instructed, your ass on display. Well, almost. You wore a pair of snug underwear that covered as much of you as possible. No doubt he saw the wet spot that formed and you didn’t have it in yourself to feel embarrassed with how turned on you were.

“I don’t even have to look at your pussy to know how pretty it is,” he said, flipping your skirt up a bit more. “Bet it’ll look even prettier when it’s taking my cock.”

Please, please, please.

“I thought we were going to discuss my paper,” you said, peering over your shoulder.

“We’ll get to that, but I think we should take care of each other first,” he said, making you clench around nothing as he touched your covered slit. “Or was it your goal to make me hard in my pants and go along your way?”

“No, Professor. I wouldn’t tease you,” you promised, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as he slid your underwear down to your ankles.

“Of course not because you’re my good girl,” he said, your thighs trembling as he pushed them further apart. “My brilliant, sexy, good girl.”

Your head nearly collapsed against the desk, your eyes squeezing shut. Why did his praise make you feel hot and want to cry at the same time? “I…”

Bucky’s hands froze on your thighs when you sniffled, immediately leaning over you and touching your cheek. “Are you okay? Check in, Smartie. Please,” he said softly.

As if you needed more reasons to love Bucky, the fact that he stopped to make sure you were okay meant the world. “Green, Stud. Very much green. I'm okay. I’m sorry,” you replied after taking a breath, your heart nearly beating out of control. “ The praise just hit me all the sudden. And I just love you so much.”

And here you were trying to do something sexy and fun for him and you ruined the moments with your emotions. The erection in his pants probably faded as soon as you sniffled. Maybe the two of you could leave for the party and try again later.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple where you felt him smile. “First, you don’t need to apologize for getting emotional. Second, I love you, too. So much. And third, we'll only keep going if you want to.”

Your eyes shut, the urge to cry both surfacing again and subsiding at his words. “I didn’t ruin the moment, did I?” you asked in a tiny voice.

“You’d never ruin the moment,” he replied, his lips touching your temple once more as you sighed. “Trust me.”

It was comforting that you could talk to Bucky about what was going on in your head or heart, whether you elaborated or kept it short. Which was why you felt confident again when you opened your eyes and glanced back at him, seeing only love, desire, and something soft in his stare. “In that case, I want you to fuck me bare, Professor.”

Bucky groaned, his soft hair tickling your neck, before he leaned up. He kept a hand on your back like he knew you needed his touch, his other hand quickly working to open his pants. “You think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re at the top of my class?” he asked, easily slipping back into his role. “You think you’ve earned my cock?”

“I can take whatever you give me. And I’ve earned it. I’m your good girl, remember?” you said, your nipples aching through your clothes as he pressed you further into the desk. Fiery shocks and heat went through your body as his finger teased your clit. “Please.”

You whimpered as he moved the digit to your folds, spreading the growing moisture around with a hum. He teased your hole, but didn’t push inside. The slow torture made you quiver and you wondered just how much more begging you had to do.

“Really is a pretty pussy for me to ruin,” he said, finally pushing in with little resistance. Your eyelids fluttered as he slid in and out, but you needed more. “Maybe I should let you go to that party. Send you in there dripping with my seed and show those boys who you belong to.”

“Please, ruin me,” you begged when he pulled his finger out, looking over your shoulder again. He was going to fuck you with the glasses on and the thought had your body going up in flames. Almost as much as the fact that he was stroking his hard cock to the sight of you. “Make me yours, Professor.”

“You’re already mine, baby,” he told you as he lined himself up. “But if I need to come inside you to prove it, so be it.”

You cried out as he thrust into you, the stretch intense and the force hard enough that you had to grip the desk to hold on. Waves of sensations threatened to explode through you at the deep slide of his cock, your body more worked up than you initially thought. You crushed your chest against the hard surface beneath you and you moaned as he pushed in more. There was no doubt in your mind that he was in control.

And you loved every second of it.

“Fuck, I needed this,” he groaned, his hand mapping along your back as you melted under his tender touch. “Should make you ride me wearing this. Put your hands behind your back with my tie.”

His mouth was on your neck in an instant when you moaned, licking and lightly sucking as his hips rocked against yours. The image of you in his lap filled your mind, your hands bound as he helped you bounce up and down on his cock. There would be plenty of time for that later. For now, he was practically pounding you into your desk and you wondered why you hadn’t worn an outfit like this for him sooner.

“Should keep you under my desk,” he went on, feeling his weight press you down more as he thrust. “Such a smart mouth in class, I know you can use it to keep me warm.”

“Fuck, please,” you begged, trying to push your hips back. He drove harder and deeper, your wet walls on the verge of quivering with bliss. “Please, Professor.”

He chuckled low in your ear, your eyelids fluttering again as you mewled. Your building orgasm threatened to rip through you and you barely registered that you begged for him again. “Already close, aren’t you? And I thought you were a good girl,” he said, his breath hot as he sped up his thrusts. “But bad girls let their professors fuck them bare, don’t they?”

“Y-Yes,” you whined, your eyes starting to roll back when he angled his hips to hit that glorious spot inside you. “Oh- There. There! Please!”

“My good and bad girl,” he grunted, moving faster as you arched your back, needing desperately to come.

“Want you to come in me,” you blurted out, teetering on the edge. Just a bit more and you’d fall. You needed it.

“I’ll come in you when you come for me,” he urged, smiling when he said the words that made you come undone. “You can do it, baby. Make me proud.”

The cry you let out was a decibel you didn’t think you were capable of reaching when you came, succumbing to pleasure as you shivered beneath him. He let out an impressive string of swears as you quivered around him, chasing his end as ecstasy flowed through you. A few more thrusts and he was gone, painting your walls with a growl before he rested his head on the back of your neck, both of you trying to steady your breathing.

You made a sound of protest as he pulled out of you, both because you didn’t want him to leave your body and you didn’t want his release spilling all over the floor. As if he sensed the latter, he pulled your underwear back up your legs. “Hey. I’m here,” he said, carefully guiding you to the bed so you could cuddle together. You were thankful he moved you since you didn’t have the strength to move yourself.

Fuck the party. I can’t walk.

“So,” he said after a minute, letting out a deep breath as he rubbed your back. “You earned an A.”

You giggled when he smiled, the sight making your heart speed up again. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” he sighed, a dreamy look in his eyes. You were glad he was satisfied. “Thank you for indulging me.”

“Don’t thank me. It was fun for both of us,” you said, tracing a heart on his chest. “The glasses really are a nice touch. You should wear them again.”

“Yeah? You like how I look in these?” he asked, adjusting them on his nose.

“I do. You’re always handsome,” you said, his blue eyes crinkling behind the lenses.

“I like looking good for you,” he said, tilting your chin to give you a soft kiss. “And I’m fucking you at the party.”

Oh, Stud. You know how to make a girl feel special.

“You better,” you said, burrowing yourself closer. “But I need a minute before I try to move, Stud.”

“Whatever you want, Smartie,” he whispered, linking your fingers together as he took your hand. “Whatever you want.”

These two will always have a special place in my heart. Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bi-writes]

again and again | the mandalorian

he comes when i call. every single time.

type: one-shot pairing: the mandalorian x afab!fem!reader word count: 4.3k (quick work while i try and finish the 10k+ monster in my drafts) warnings: mature language and content, mature written sexual content, 🔞⚠️ (warnings under the cut) summary: the mandalorian is not very nice when he's jealous. but he can be nice to you. complete masterlist

concept art chosen: "envy" (2007), "jealousy" (1895)

detailed warnings: 18+ smut, size kink (reader is described as smaller than the mandalorian, able to be moved by him easily), possessive!mandalorian, soft!dom!mandalorian -> read at your own discretion

You had been here before.

Not this cantina, exactly. Not this planet. But you had been here before, in an outfit this small, in a room much too loud, feeling the glare of eyes you didn’t even know the fucking color of.

You were not quiet about your presence here. If you were being honest with yourself, you left a messy trail to your whereabouts in hopes a certain bounty hunter would follow your breadcrumbs. You had a feeling he would not be able to resist. You had a feeling that he would get a whiff of you, and not be able to stop himself from getting a peek, a glance, a taste of even just a strand of your hair or a trace of your footprint in that big, shiny helmet of his.

You smoothed out the front of your skirt as you shuffled your way to the bar. You had to elbow a few organics out of the way, but you finally had the droid in your sight, and you banged your palm against the bar counter for a refill.

If you were being even more honest with yourself, you would admit you dressed up just for him. You were in a bright red two-piece, a short mini skirt with a matching long-sleeve top made of shiny, geometric leather. Your midriff was on display, leaving little to the imagination, and you paired it with matching leather boots and an exposed thigh holster with your favorite blaster strapped to it. You wanted to put your hair up, but you had a feeling the style would only get in your way tonight.

Besides. He liked it when you had your hair down.

You hopped onto a barstool as the droid poured you your refill. You sat up straight, putting the straw to your lips and sucking it down almost entirely, letting the sugary alcohol seep into you and warm you from the inside out. You swung your feet and giggled to yourself, loving the feeling of his attention. It sent a lick of adrenaline shooting down your spine. Your toes curled, and your nipples hardened under your top, and you hadn’t even laid eyes on him yet.

“Need another?”

A warm voice motioned for the droid to give you another generous pour, and you smiled brightly at the unsuspecting human taking up space on your right side. He was wearing a uniform of sorts, dark and pressed, and he had a dazzling smile. Pearly white teeth, curly locks, and a sweet, innocent face. He was adorable. Too bad you didn’t care much for adorable.

“Oh, I’ll take whatever you’ll give me,” you laughed, nodding as he put a few credits down for you. After another fruity refill, you were finding yourself being pulled off your seat, soft hands gripping your bare waist as he tried to coax you onto the dancefloor. Your flirtatious banter was less than subtle; you knew he had so many gadgets adorned in that helmet, and if he was going to hide in the shadows away from your eyes, then you would give him a reason to come out.

Those fingers around your waist stiffened suddenly. Instead of a warm touch guiding you to move, you felt the change your stranger’s demeanor. His palms went clammy, and he went rigid at your side. You licked your lips, your eyes shutting for just a moment as you smelled that familiar edge—blaster residue, leather, iron and something dark and tangy and his.

“Come to ruin my fun?” You asked over your shoulder. You couldn’t see well in the dark of the cantina, but the Mandalorian was a ghostly, towering figure, nonetheless. He caged you into the bar, and you realized then that one of his hands was occupied—his blaster aimed right at the boy’s middle. “Maker, you just can’t help yourself!”

You stepped in front of the blaster, the point of it pressed into your bare stomach, and his helmet tipped down just enough. You would described the stiffness of his movements as unamused. He drew the blaster back immediately, away from you, but the damage had been done. The boy behind you fled before you could blink, and you huffed out an angry sigh, glaring up at the Mandalorian. You opened your mouth to say something, but he holstered his blaster, and with that same hand, he gripped your waist tight, yanking you forward until your middle pressed against his. Your bare stomach pressed against his utility belt, soft breasts squished up against that cool beskar. You fought the chill that ran through you, letting your eyelids flutter a bit as you fell into that comfortable headspace that could only be had right here, with him, in his arms. You lit up inside, fighting a grin.

Yes, yes, yes—

“You’re taunting me,” the Mandalorian growled finally. The edge in his voice should have scared you, but it enticed you instead. Lit a fire under your feet. The Mandalorian was nothing short of the being you craved the most, and every time you set eyes on him, you were reminded how much of an effect he had on you. He was all-consuming, and you were a bunny in a trap.

“Bite me,” you snapped, but a smile broke out on your face, nonetheless. You tilted your head to the side, standing up on your toes. Even in your heels, you craned to be level with him. You tucked your fingers into his belt, pulling him that much closer. “No, really…bite me.”

You let out a light giggle of surprise when the hand on your waist slid down to grasp you under your thigh tight, the gloves doing nothing to cool the heat of his touch. One of his hands reached to smooth over the handle of your blaster, a pretty little silver gift that he had given you some time ago. The sight of it strapped on your person didn’t go unnoticed; he was rather excited with the view, if the warmth against your thigh had anything to say about it.

“Maker, you missed me, didn’t you?” You cooed softly, leaning forward to kiss the beskar of his pauldron. The tone of your voice was almost pitiful, a childish reassurance that sent a pang of annoyance straight through him. “It’s okay…” You put your hand over his on your thigh, dragging it up until it slipped under your skirt, guiding him to touch you. “I missed you, too, baby.” You closed your eyes, kissing now just under the jaw of his helmet. “I knew I could get you here by leaving something along the way for you…wearing something pretty and shiny just like you…” You mewled softly as he kneaded the flesh of your ass in one large hand. “…getting boys to buy me drinks…”

Bunny in a trap, bunny in a trap—

“You’re coming with me,” he said simply. It wasn’t a question, it was a demand. An order. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pouting just a little.

“Don’t be mad,” you whined. “Or jealous. If you think for one second that I have eyes for anyone else, you’re blind.” Your fingers rubbed gently along the nape of his neck. He wore too many layers for you to feel those soft curls you adored pulling on. “If you weren’t such a stubborn piece of work, maybe you’d let me call you my boyfriend—”

A disgruntled sound left him, and his grip on you tightened. You met his visor for just a moment before realizing if you wanted any conversation of substance, you needed to get him alone, in private. You liked playing games, but the Mandalorian seemed as if he wasn’t in the mood. Most times he found you this way, he let hands wander just a tad longer so he could take pleasure in breaking their noses.

You took his free hand in yours, turning and guiding him out of the cantina. The crowd parted for you immediately, patrons not wanting to bump into the armor accidently. When you were outside in the quiet, you moved to the alleyway, covered in privacy by tall walls and dark light.

“I-I don’t know why you get so mad at me—” You started, tucking yourself into his side. He was hard to cuddle against with the rigid layers, but you wanted to be close to him. “You always get so jealous, but at the slightest whiff of commitment, you run the other way…” You looked up at him, right into the visor, hoping to find his eyes. “I miss you when you go,” you whispered. “I miss you all the time. I know what you do is dangerous, but Din—” His head tilted sharply at the use of his name, “—I miss you, and I know you miss me, too.”

You stood up on your toes and cupped the cheeks of his helmet in your hands, kissing the space where you thought his lips might be. You smiled, eyes glossy with sadness, and you sighed with relief when you felt two gloved hands slip up your short skirt again and squeeze your ass firmly, possessively. You adored having his undivided attention, adored being at the center of it. Seeing only yourself in the reflection of his helmet brought more peace to you than he could ever know. The Mandalorian was always so cool and calm and collected, and you loved that he lost complete sense of it around you.

“Say you missed me, Din,” you murmured. “Say you were jealous tonight and that you missed me.”

The smile on your face never left. The Mandalorian thought you could not look more precious than right now, waiting eagerly for him to murmur in your ear the praise you so deserved.

“I was jealous,” the Mandalorian admitted, slipping one gloved hand between your thighs and guiding those fingers against the seam of the lace there. You swallowed a bit, knowing that he would be able to feel how wet you’ve been for the last hour. “I was jealous, and I missed you.”

You broke out into a bigger smile, giggling with delight and moving to take his hands out from under your skirt to hold, but he held tight. He chuckled darkly, shaking his head slightly.

“No…” He manhandled you, turning you around and pressing you up against the alley wall chest-first and caging you in with the broadness of his figure. It happened so fast, and your heartbeat echoed in your ears as you tried to keep up with him. “I’m taking what I deserve, right here, right now.”

You hummed softly, your body turning liquid in his grasp. There was no place safer, no place more tranquil and perfect, than in his arms. It didn’t matter to you that you were out in the open, that anyone could walk by and see you. The Mandalorian would never let anything happen to you. You were safe, always. You feared nothing except for losing him, perhaps.

“You’re such a good girl,” he muttered in your ear. His modulated voice was honey in your ears. You leaned back against him, your ass pressing against the front of him eagerly. “Always letting me have what I want, no matter where we are, huh?”

You nodded, reaching up and wrapping an arm around his neck, the other hand bracing yourself against the wall. “I’m safe with you, Din,” you whispered. “Always have been, always will be. Not afraid of anything when I’m with you.” You reached down and slid your skirt up until it was bunched around your hips. “And I’m yours, whether you want to admit it or not—” You moved your hips at an angle, the hardness of him now pressed against your ass, and he stiffened, his grip on your middle bruising. “Yours to do whatever you want with…whenever you want.”

The Mandalorian grit his teeth under the helmet. It was infuriating how much of an effect you had over him, and he couldn’t even punish you for it because you were being so good. You were saying all of the right things, talking sweetness into his bones, making him feel that hot, scorching satisfaction of his claim over you and everything you were. There was no need to convince you that you were his, there was no need to remind you; in fact, it was you that was begging for him to do the one thing he had refused all this time—to simply acknowledge you.

You were so pliant. Doe-eyed and soft, gentle and easy, so small and moldable. The Mandalorian felt a warmth in his chest every time he towered over you. He was big and bad and rough around all of the edges, but nothing ever seemed to cut you. His touch only warmed you from the inside out, only had you gasping and making such pretty noises.

“Just…promise me one thing,” you said over your shoulder, meeting the visor with your eyes. He said nothing, but he smoothed a hand over your waist and squeezed you there to encourage you to continue. “Tell me I’m yours, Din—” You rested the back of your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes. He brought that hand up to wrap around your throat, but his touch was more soothing than anything. “Please,” you begged softly. “I need to hear you say it.”

The Mandalorian sighed deeply, his other hand moving to unzip his flight suit.

“If you want to know why I don’t want you to call me your kriffing boyfriend—” he spat, shaking his head, and you gasped as you felt his cock hard and leaking against your back, “—you should know it’s because that title is insulting.” You whimpered as he gripped the lace of your panties and pulled, ripping it apart easily. The delicate fabric was no match for those hands, and you squirmed under his grasp. The show of strength was enough to send another wave of need through you, wetting the place between your thighs even more. With no panties to soak, you could already feel yourself dripping slowly. “I’m not your boyfriend. I’m not your lover.” You moaned loudly as he notched himself at your entrance, hissing as he felt you immediately drenching him with your arousal. You were so wet, it was almost pathetic, but this was your Mandalorian, and by the chuckle that left him, you knew there was only satisfaction and need in the air, no room for embarrassment.

“I am yours, and you are mine—” His voice was muffled by your cry when he pushed into you, meeting little resistance as he pressed his hips into you until there was no space between you. You were tight, but so, so slick, sucking him in and squeezing him as another rush of slickness coated him. He groaned lowly as he felt you, realizing now just how much he had missed being so close to you, inside of you, intertwined and all around you. He hoisted you up in his arms, easily maneuvering you until you were right where he wanted you, full and squirming and drunk on the feeling of him. “—I could devour you here, and I would still be hungry, do you understand that?”

His voice in it of itself was enough to send you into another wave of pleasure. Deep, crackling static enveloping the roughness and neediness that he spoke of. It wasn’t a secret between the two of you the amount of times he had brought you over the edge with just his words, talking in your ear as your shaking fingers abused the soft, wet center of yourself.

My sweet girl. My perfect girl. Pretty, pretty girl, all mine, all mine, all mine to look at, all mine to touch, all mine to eat—

You moaned softly, clawing at him from behind as you tried to gain any kind of stability, but the Mandalorian was using you how he pleased, not giving you any sort of control. All you could do was cry and whimper and beg for more as he used the wall for leverage, fucking up into you. You managed to grab onto his forearms, digging into the clothed flesh there, feeling the pulse of him.

“What you mean to me…” He let out sharp groans, savoring the soft cries from you as he watched you take him so well. Your legs were shaking, your toes barely touching the ground as you tried to be coherent enough to say something back, but you were rendered speechless. There were tears forming at the corners of your eyes, the piercing feeling of the Mandalorian filling you and taking over you and consuming you almost too much to bear. He was so big in so many ways. Big enough to hold you, big enough to crush you in his arms, big enough to split you in two and put you right back together with those skilled, deadly hands of his, big enough to fuck a mark into your cunt so well that you would never ever forget that he had been there. “…mean more to me than anything in this world…wanna tie you up and stow you away all for me…wanna hide you from anyone and everyone—wanna have you every minute of every day and keep you full of me—” You squeezed him hard at the very thought, “—oh, you like that, yeah? Like that thought? Like the thought of me right here, all the time?”

Fuck, he was rambling. The Mandalorian was never a man of many words. You had seen him have conversations with just a nod and shake of his head, with just that steel glare alone, but whenever he was buried inside of you, he could never stop. Sputtering, grunting, spitting—maybe this was how he grounded himself, maybe this was how he kept himself just sane enough to not completely lose his self-control while he was inside of you.

Right here, all the time—mine, mine, mine—

You nodded, your jaw loosening and falling open in a silent cry as he snapped his hips quicker. His unwavering thrusts hit you deep, and he squeezed your throat gently before lowering them to your hips, spreading you open to give him more room to take you. There was something still soft about the way the Mandalorian fucked you. It was filthy this way, out in the open where someone could catch you, but his towering figure hid you from display. He held you tight, crowding you in his warmth. He was always possessive, but never cruel, and your pleasure came before his. You thought you couldn’t be anymore wet, but one gloved hand slipped up the front of your skirt, cupping your mound to give you the heel of his glove to grind against, your clit throbbing against the leather.

Oh, fucking—Maker—more, more more—

“Din—” Did other words even exist? Why couldn’t you form a coherent sentence? The only phrase you could muster was his name. Had his cock really dwindled you down to something so simple, so pathetic? The sounds between you were flushing you with embarrassment almost. So sticky, so wet, your thighs were glistening with sweat and your sweetness, and you nearly cried when you noticed one of his gloved hands smear his fingertips with that pretty creaminess and slip just under the lip of his helmet—

Yes, yes, yes—taste me—

“I’m gonna take you away,” he babbled. He was talking, just talking to fill the space, talking to keep himself from moaning too loud or cumming too fast, “Gonna take you away from here, keep you with me, yeah?”

He cursed under his breath, his hand finding its place spreading you open better, and his tongue was warm with the tang of you. It was enough to have him canting your hips just that much more, the tip of him prodding at the softest parts of your walls.

Soft, tight—she’s so cute, look at her, nothing there but me, all me, can’t think of anything except for how good she takes it.

“Yes, Din, please—!” You begged, your hands gripping his forearms harder and nails digging in hard to hold yourself steady. “Please, please, please—wanna be with you, please…”

“Shhhh…it’s gonna be alright,” he muttered. “I’m not gonna tease you today, don’t worry…gonna give you what you need, yeah?”

You nodded, gripping onto him tighter and grinding down against his hand, feeling the dull ache in your belly become sharp and buzzing and hot. Sex with the Mandalorian was always messy, but you were soaking your bodies, the wet squelch echoing in the alley and giving the Mandalorian an audible reminder of just how cockdrunk and dizzy and absolutely crazy you were for him. If you could eat him alive, you figured you just might.

“Know you’re close, yeah?” He panted. “Give it to me. You’re mine. Need you to show me.”

You swallowed hard, shutting your eyes tight. He dropped one arm to grip your leg, hiking it up to angle himself deeper, kissing your cervix and hitting a soft spot that had your tears falling quickly down your face. He was so good at this, too good at this, hitting it again, again, again—Din—right there—please—! Sheer, rippling, hot pleasure trickled down your spine, feeling so hot that your blood ran in your ears and your legs gave out underneath you. Like always, the Mandalorian caught you, holding you up so he could pound you through your orgasm. You could hear the thick wet of your release smearing between you, reaching up to grip the back of his neck and force him close.

“Inside me, Din,” you whimpered. “Need to feel you…”

He’s so warm, he’s so big, he’s mine, I want more—

“I know, I got you—”

You relaxed when you felt him, frantic thrusts and deep grinds as his cock pulsed and emptied and branded you so tenderly. You mewled happily, nuzzling back into him. His arms wrapped tightly around your middle, holding you close, and you hummed softly. The coming down was always sweet with the Mandalorian. The way he would press you to him, no space for air between your bodies. If the Mandalorian could fuse you to his beskar, you figured he would. You would let him, if only it meant he would take whatever he needed from you always.

“Wish we could stay like this forever,” you mumbled in a daze. Your mind was still fuzzy, your vision trying to straighten itself out as it basked in the rush of sweetness and calm and utter pleasure that seeped into your very bones. He brushed your sweaty hair back and off your shoulder, letting his heartbeat steady as he held you. The Mandalorian was the only thing holding you up straight, but you knew he would not drop you. “Were you serious, Din? About taking me away?”

He pulled out of you slowly, soothing you with gentle fingers through your hair as you winced a bit. You could feel the warmth of him slowly making its way down your thighs, a familiar, aching feeling that you wished could stay.

“Yes,” he murmured. “My ship is in the landing bay. I have more than enough room for you.”

The Mandalorian carefully moved your skirt back into place, slipping the cowl out from his chest plate and draping it over your shoulders. Something fluttery and nice settled in your belly at the gesture, and you were grateful that his hands didn’t leave you, still settled against your bare midriff and squeezing there absentmindedly.

“Why now?” You asked gently. “Every…every other time I’ve asked, you…you’ve refused.” You sniffled a bit, and he brought a hand up to wipe your tears. Tender, sweet, apologetic. “You never let me come with you before. You…you always…you always leave. Why is this time different?”

The Mandalorian tucked your head into his chest, smoothing a hand down your back.

“I guess I just can’t be away from you anymore,” he said simply. He took your hand in his, but you realized quickly that you had to hold onto his arm for support as you followed him towards the landing bay. You smiled up at him as you walked.

“So…does this mean I can call you my boyfriend?” You joked, biting your lip cheekily. He reached down and gripped your ass tight, squeezing it harshly for good measure.

“No,” he clarified, but you could hear the amusement in his voice. You picked up your pace when you saw his ship in the distance. You had been on his ship before. You had enjoyed many nights there, tangled up in warm sheets and small spaces. You planned to take full advantage of your new privileges in it. Before you could make it inside, the Mandalorian tugged on your hand gently, bringing you to face him. You smiled up at him, and he kept a hand busy adjusting the fabric around your shoulders.

“I just need you to know that you didn’t have to tease me this way for me to come get you,” the Mandalorian said lowly. “I know I hadn’t given you any reason to believe that I care for you more than…” Your eyes lowered a bit, a little sheepish, but the Mandalorian cleared his throat. He put his fingers under your chin and lifted your gaze back to him. You couldn’t explain the feeling, but you knew you had his eyes on yours. “I would’ve come for you. All you had to do was ask.”

You stood up on your toes, leaning forward until you could put your forehead to his. You closed your eyes to savor the kiss, and he followed easily.

“But did you like it?” You asked playfully, holding back a laugh. You felt the tips of his fingers playing with the hem of your tiny skirt, and he let out a low hum.

Teasing, little girl.

“Yeah…I liked it.”

[atrueneutral]

Imagine if Raphael was on the Material Plane in human form when he happens to cross paths with his little mouse (who he is infatuated with) and then, for one reason or another, someone mistakenly assumes that Tav is his spouse and refers to Tav as such ("Oh, apologizes, sir! I didn't realize your spouse would be joining you!"). How do you think he'd react? Do you think he'd go deer in headlights for a second? Would he just roll with it? Would he clear up the confusion?

Okay, I kiiiiind of tweaked this a smidge…

—

“That particular piece of armor will run you six-thousand gold.”

Tav balked at the price, and she over-dramatically cleaned out her ear with the tip of her pinky finger. “Sorry - I want to make sure I heard you correctly. You did say six hundred-”

“I said six thousand gold, yes. That’s exactly what I said,'' the dwarven armorsmith staunchly affirmed. His bushy mustache that she originally found fun suddenly became stupid, as did the squat face that hadn’t once smiled since her arrival into his stupid shop. “You can’t pull a fast one on me, lass.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, saer!” She performed offense with a hand to her chest and a face of aghastness. “How dare you accuse me of trying to trick you into giving me a fair deal on a piece of armor!”

“It’ll be the full price or nothing,” he gruffly replied.

The bell posted above the shop door jingled, and Tav could hear bootsteps sauntering up behind her as her brain worked to think of a way to attain the breastplate she wanted. She needed a plan that didn’t involve stealing, murder, or, more importantly, spending six-thousand of her hard-found and hard-earned (and sometimes-but-rarely hard-pilfered) gold...

She wanted this new breastplate, and–

The dwarf looked past her to the only other customer in the shop, and his eyebrows raised. “Lord Raphael! What an honor! How may I be of service?”

Lord Raphael?

Tav frowned and turned to see if it was who she thought (hoped) it was…

Her face lit up. 

It was!

Her solution - her knight in patterned doublet - was here! Her walking, handsome, charming bag of six-thousand gold!

Raphael seemed a tad befuddled by her enthusiastic reaction to his entrance, but that didn’t stop him from smirking at her. “Korrilla said she saw you nearby, and I thought I would see how-”

“-your wife was doing?” Tav finished. She pretended to be deeply touched as she strode up to him. “Oh, husband!”

His nose scrunched with more befuddlement. “Hus-”

Tav placed her hand against the side of his face and silenced him with a kiss. It was their first kiss, but because it needed to be between a husband and wife who were ardently and so-very-passionately in love with one another, Tav’s tongue ended up gliding over his lips in invitation after a handful of seconds. Surprisingly, Raphael accepted with a hum. His tongue entered her mouth and his tongue swirled around hers as he grabbed her hip.

As it turned out, Tav quite liked kissing him. So much so that she almost forgot she was standing in a shop and was well on her way of forgetting that she was only kissing Raphael because she wanted him to be her devilish coin purse.

Tav woozily broke the kiss, feeling weak in the knees.

“This is your wife, Lord Raphael?” the shop-owner asked with astonishment.

Tav, still against Raphael with her hip captured by his hand, stared at her ‘spouse’ with an expression that said: please say yes.

Looking past the lust in his eyes, the cambion stared back at her. His expression said: you’re up to something.

“I’ll pay you back,” Tav sang, grazing her thumb across his cheek with a smile. “After all, I did give you that wonderful… hat. The one that looks so nice and so perfect on your head. The hat that is better than alllllll the other hats in existence…”

“Did you not get something in return, Little Mouse?”

Tav twisted to give the shop-owner a heartened look. “Don’t you adore the pet name?”

The dwarf’s eyes narrowed.

“What is it that you want, wife?” Raphael asked with a tilt of his head. “A new deal will need to be struck.”

There were oftentimes instances where Tav’s mouth ran before logic and reason had the chance to catch up.

This was one such instance.

“I will clean the House, husband,” she replied, giving just as much bite to the fake title as he did to hers. “Naked.”

The offer threw kindling onto the fire in his brown eyes.

“For eight hours!” her logic and reason was quick to add. Tav tossed another glance behind her to the dwarf. “I’m so sorry you have to hear all of this. We like to have fun, my husband and I.”

Raphael’s hand squeezed her hip to draw her attention back to him.

“And what are you asking for in return?”

“Nothing, really…” She personified innocence and combed through his hair as if to put a stray lock back behind his ear. “Just a measly piece of armor… that I won’t be wearing… when I’m naked...”

She could tell Raphael was thinking of her naked.

And she could tell he liked what he was seeing.

“Very well, wife.” The grip at her hip jostled her, and he pulled her closer. His mouth lowered to her ear and his voice lowered in a way that melted her insides. “But you will be coming ‘home’ with me after this purchase, and I expect you naked once we’re in the door.”

She didn’t mean to moan, but it happened at the same moment her brain malfunctioned. Tav forgot she was standing in a shop, and she forgot about the breastplate; she was too busy imagining herself standing in a certain House with Raphael’s eyes on her naked body.

“Ahem,” announced the dwarf, bringing her back to reality. “My lord, with all due respect…”

Raphael breezed around her and landed at the shorter than average counter - leaving Tav gaping like a goldfish in the background.

“My wife requests the ‘measly piece of armor’,” Raphael said sarcastically.

Tav came back to earth. 

“The breastplate,” she corrected, her back to them.

“Yes, the measly breastplate,” Raphael additionally corrected.

“Of course, my lord. The cost comes to four-thousand gold.”

At that, Tav spun around - indignant.

“Hey! You said six-thousand, ‘take it or leave it’!”

The dwarf did not pay her any mind, and neither did Raphael.

“Four-thousand is an agreeable sum… yet I would like to offer you more,” the cambion said smoothly. “How about I pay you one-thousand now, and, say in three day’s time you come to Sharess’ Caress to see if we can’t work out a better deal?”

Tav was livid to see the shop-owner considering the offer.

“I accept, Lord Raphael. One-thousand gold for now.”

Tav returned to being a goldfish - sputtering nonsensically, enraged as Raphael snapped his fingers and handed over a pouch full of coin.

“For your wife,” the dwarf said, handing her new measly breastplate over to her ‘husband’.

“Ha! He’s not my husband!” Tav declared, needing to spread the foolishness she felt onto the shop-owner.

Raphael chuckled as he strolled over to her with the armor in hand.

Tav glowered at him. “Smooth-talking bastard…”

He stopped before her, snapped again, and the breastplate disappeared. “The breastplate is yours - once the House is clean and tidied, dearest wife.”

He held out his hand to her. 

“I regret giving you your hat,” she said, taking his offered palm.

“We’ll see if you feel the same - after your eight hours.”

Raphael smiled as heat swam in her core, and he teleported them to his House of Hope with a burst.

In the ‘door’ where they stood, his smile became exceedingly devilish.

“Now, my little mouse of a wife… strip.”

[Part ll]

[tempe-brennans]

and i'd come back if you'd just call

author's note: soulmate au + apocalypse

summary: you show up in jackson and turn joel's life upside down

warnings: implied smut and handsy touching

word count: 2.7k

There’s gray in his hair. He’s sure he should feel grateful for that–especially now–and some part of him does, he supposes.

He has people.

There’s Ellie and Tommy and Maria. You.

He’s not sure exactly what to do about you.

Besides, he’s more concerned about the ache in his back and the knots in his muscles–much more important problems than the love he’s beginning to think he still feels for you or the sunflower burning on his wrist.

There’s heating pads for his muscles and pain pills for his back–concrete solutions.

You, on the other hand, you’re young and fun and something he can’t quite get his fingers around.

And, you had left him–a fact he can’t quite forget. No matter how much he’d like to.

His throat is sore, scratchy in the way that tells him he spent last night snoring. Sighing as he sits up in bed, he cracks one shoulder and then the other.

His feet don’t want to find the floor. His body doesn’t want to hide behind the curtains in his own home because he can never be sure if you can see him.

Tommy thought he was so funny, making you two neighbors.

Joel does turn, eventually, let his feet land on the too cold floor. Toes slip into slippers he’d left in reach when he’d gotten into bed last night. He reaches blindly for the faded flannel robe that’s draped over the chair in the corner of his room.

He hasn’t had time for such indulgences, too busy running–from life, monsters. Anything. Before, he simply hadn’t wanted them.

But, Ellie had presented them both–a set, though the patterns didn’t match at all–as a gift and he hadn’t been able to say no.

He’s tired of being so sharp, so tough. In his own home, at least, maybe he can rest.

Home.

The thought brings his mind back to you, against his will, and as he pours his coffee he tries to see if your lights are on.

He can’t tell. The sun is working against him. He resolves himself to the fact that he’ll run into you at some point in town, so, really, what does it matter if you see each other sooner rather than later?

Besides, he’s almost positive you aren’t sitting in windowsills, pining after him.

He sits in the recliner Tommy had insisted he just had to have and welcomes the ability to put his feet up. It’s a relic–a handle raises and lowers the foot rest–but, somehow, it still works.

Taking a drink of his coffee, he thinks.

There’s no sound in the house, something Joel still hasn’t gotten used to since Ellie moved out.

I’m 20, she had said when Joel had asked if she was sure she wanted to leave, as if that was an explanation. Besides, don’t you want your own space?

He didn’t, if she wanted to know the truth. He wanted to hear her downstairs cooking breakfast or the sound of her snoring through the crack in her bedroom door.

He knew why she had gone, though. It was the same reason he had left home the moment he turned 18.

Freedom.

So, he could understand it, even if he wasn’t entirely fond of it.

He sees her every few days anyway.

Coffee now gone, he knows his day has to start, even if the town now feels like a loaded gun is waiting around every corner. He dresses–a flannel still happily coasting between cozy and too threadbare and jeans. He cracks his front door, feels the bite of the winter wind, and shuts it firmly.

An extra jacket wouldn’t hurt.

x

“I’m telling you,” Joel mumbles, “she probably doesn’t even remember.”

Tommy quirks a brow. “Are you kidding?” Shaking his head, he laughs. “You spent the better half of a year together. The tattoos–”

“I don’t wanna talk about the tattoos,” Joel dismisses. “Besides,” he mutters, “it was eleven months.”

“Oh,” Tommy hums. “My mistake.”

Silence and then, “You know someone will notice, right?”

Joel tilts his head. “You see me wearing a lot of short sleeves in the winter?”

“You can’t use the weather to hide forever, bro. The minute Ellie–hell, anybody–notices the two identical sunflowers on your arms?” He shakes his head. “Secrets out.”

“Yeah?” Joel asks. “What secret is that?”

His little brother leans in, whispers, “You can still find your soulmate after the apocalypse.”

“She’s the one that left.” Joel sighs. “Obviously, she didn’t care that we were soulmates.”

“You don’t even know why she left!” Tommy exclaims, exasperated.

Joel quirks a brow. “Somehow I haven’t had a lot of time, what with the apocalypse and all.”

His brother claps him on the shoulder. “You’ve got nothing but time now.”

x

Joel walks the streets of Jackson, spitting snow beginning to fall around him.

Maybe Tommy is right. It’s not like Joel doesn’t have some extra time on his hands, a strange concept after the last twenty years, he has to admit.

Maybe he should take advantage of it.

It’s that thought that’s rattling around in his brain when he collides with someone else.

“Sorry!” He reaches out, blindly, tries to catch the person or their belongings–something. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” a voice says. It’s a voice he’s never forgotten–couldn’t forget, even if he wanted to–and he kicks himself that this is the way he’d run into you again.

Literally.

“It was really,” you stand, catch sight of his face for the first time, “my fault.”

He’s older now, grayer and a little softer around the edges, but, still, he can see the moment recognition lights on your features.

“Joel?”

He nods, suddenly sheepish. For once, his mind is completely blank. It can’t begin to come up with an adequate greeting for an old flame that, maybe, still burns somewhere behind his rib cage. He settles on an all too casual, “Hi.”

You smile, a soft thing. “Hi.”

On instinct it seems, you take a step closer and hug him. Though it’s been years, the feeling of you pressed against him, your arms around him, it’s familiar.

He wants to hate it, but he doesn’t. Not even a little.

He barely resists the urge to press a kiss to your forehead, take a minute to inhale your scent, before you pull away.

“S’nice to see you.”

Joel nods. “You, too.” Somewhere between the truth and a lie.

“Your hair, it’s…softer,” you murmur.

“Yeah?” Joel reaches up, runs an idle hand through it. “Haven’t had a lot of time for haircuts, I guess.” He shrugs. “I kinda got used to it.”

You nod. “It’s been a long time.”

Joel quirks a brow. “Whose fault was that?”

It’s too sharp, too biting, and he can see the results flash across your face.

Shaking your head, you glare at him, blow out a breath. “I should have known you hadn’t changed.”

You turn on your heel, away from him, and he wants to reach out, tell you he’s sorry, but something won’t let him.

He thinks it’s his heart.

“I’ve changed plenty!” He calls after your shrinking form. “Changed enough to know I should stay away from you.”

You look over your shoulder–just for a second–long enough to cut him to the core. “The feeling is mutual!”

He sighs and continues on his own path, towards his own lonely house, entirely too close to you for comfort.

x

“So.” Ellie sighs. “That went well.”

Joel chuckles, rolls his eyes. “You think?”

“We can fix it,” she says, sitting on the couch closest to him. “It’ll be fine.”

“Sure about that?,” he asks. “It’s not a leaky sink, you know.”

Her eyes light up in the very particular way that tells Joel she’s had an idea he won’t be fond of.

He’s suddenly nervous.

“That’s it,” she exclaims.

“What’s it?”

Ellie leaves the room, obviously in search of something, and ignores him.

“Ellie,” he calls after her. “Ellie, what’s it?”

x

It’s her scheming that puts him on your porch, in fact, toolbox in hand and looking for something to fix.

Real or fake, it hadn’t really mattered to Ellie.

He should never have told her he had been a contractor.

The door opens and you glare at him, unsurprisingly.

“What do you want?”

He spits it out, before he can change his mind, run back home and hide.

“I’m sorry for earlier.” He shakes his head. “You left…before. And, I was angry and seeing you again…” He trails off, settles on simplicity. “I’m sorry.”

Something in your face softens as you step aside to let him in.

“I’m sorry for leaving, you know.”

You take him off guard, turn his pulse to a gallop.

“I was…I was afraid,” you murmur, skipping over his own apology in a way that’s entirely you.

Of course it’s the way you’d let him know things are okay.

“I should have told you that, though, instead of disappearing.”

He nods, swallows down a memory he doesn’t exactly want to relive right now, whispers, “It’s okay.”

You nod, smile at him. “You want a drink? Some food?”

He nods, places the toolbox in the floor next to your couch.

“That’d be nice.”

x

Joel isn’t sure how long the two of you have been talking–minutes or hours. Maybe days. Easy familiarity settles over the pair of you, and things are like they used to be.

He’s glad for it.

“Were there others?” Joel asks, words slipping out before he can stop them.

It’s the question that he somehow desperately wants the answer to and also never wants to hear.

You nod. “A few.” But, then, “None like you.”

It’s more honest than he expected, like your heart has opened to him once again.

You’re vulnerable. He knows you hate that.

“That makes sense.” He nods, rising to his feet, hand curling around the handle of his toolbox, imagining you want him to take his leave. “I’m pretty unforgettable.”

You laugh, look at him with something he would have called affection, once upon a time. “Yeah, you are, Miller.”

Something buzzes inside of him at the knowledge he can still make you laugh, even after everything, and he ducks his head, starts to head for the door.

“Joel?”

He turns, finds apprehension on your features.

He aches to set you at ease.

“Yeah?”

“Could you…would it…” You shake your head, shoulders squaring like you’re heading into a fight. “Would you want to stay? The night? With…with me.”

In a minute, he forgets it all. The pain and heartache and anger disappears with one look at your eyes.

“Yes.”

Simple–the way it’s always been between the two of you.

x

You crawl on top of him in a way he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined over the years.

His hands find a resting place on either of your hips, squeeze the flesh there lightly.

“Hi,” you murmur, grin on your face.

“Hi.” He smiles.

It’s different when you’re with your soulmate.

Joel had been with others, sure.

Tess comes to mind, but he quickly shakes the thought away–along with the memory of her death.

But, every time, even when stars popped up behind his eyelids and warmth erupted through his every limb, it wasn’t what it had been with you.

The best way he could think to describe it was…more.

As you lean down, press a kiss to his lips, he finally admits to himself how much he’d missed it. You.

x

Joel feels you pull away and squeezes you closer. “Where you goin’?,” he mumbles, already half asleep.

“Shirt,” you whisper.

He shakes his head, nuzzles his nose into the hollow of your throat.

Chuckling softly, you say, “S’winter, Joel.”

He holds you even closer–if that’s possible. “I’ll keep you warm.” Then, just to tease, fingers dance over your hip bone, inches from the crux of your thighs. “Any way you want.”

“Joel…”

“Or, are you too old for this game?” He hums, getting a rise out of you too tempting to ignore. “You get soft on me while you were away?”

Your own hand–cold from it’s trip beyond the faded quilt that covers you both–dances along the soft skin of his stomach, curls around his still too sensitive length. He jumps, hisses out a breath, interest already simmering at the base of his spine.

“I can still play,” you purr. “Can you?”

Your hand works him over, languid strokes finding a pattern that makes his skin buzz.

Joel rises, mouth desperate to find yours.

He’s always liked to be kissed–especially by you, especially when you’re touching him the way you are.

You indulge him, lips parting to let his tongue tangle with your own. He can’t help but grin into the kiss.

x

In the morning, he wakes alone. Part of him isn’t shocked. Part of him is heartbroken all over again.

Quickly, he gets dressed–avoiding mirrors with the hopes of missing any evidence you’d left behind of the night before.

He goes to Tommy’s, doesn’t even look towards your house as he walks down the street.

x

“You’ve been in love before.” Tommy shrugs. “Maybe it could happen again. Nothing says you have to be with your soulmate.”

Joel hadn’t thought about it when he’d fallen in love with Sarah’s mother.

He hadn’t had much choice, if he’s honest. One look at her and he had been done for.

So, the fact she didn’t have a sunflower on the soft skin of her forearm wasn’t of much consequence. The fact she had her own tattoo–purple dahlia petals curling around her own wrist–had never mattered to her either.

They had shared a life and love and had turned that love into something that lived outside of them.

Sarah.

It was only a few months after she was born that Joel had woken up alone to the sound of Sarah’s crying.

He had adjusted, though. The two of them had made a team and found happiness all on their own.

Until…well, Joel didn’t really like to think about that day–that last day. He preferred to imagine her laughing, head thrown back in joy.

“I know,” he murmurs. He adds, almost under his breath, “I don’t think I want to fall in love. Not if it’s not with her.”

Tommy ducks his head, sheepish all of a sudden.

“What is it?”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell you.”

He leans forward, insistent. “Tommy, what is it?”

“She told Maria that she was…thinking of leaving Jackson.”

Joel is off Tommy’s couch and out the door before Tommy can ask where he’s going.

Joel suspects he knows.

x

His knocks are incessant, barely a pause between them.

“C’mon,” he murmurs to himself. “Please don’t be gone.”

The door opens, shocking Joel, and he almost falls through it.

“You can’t leave Jackson,” he pants. There’s an ache in his side, a pulling at muscles that scream with use more often than they don’t these days. He’s certain he shouldn’t have run to make sure he caught you.

You shake your head, hands coming to rest on either side of his face.

It’s a gesture full of affection and hope ignites in his gut.

“I’m not leaving,” you murmur.

Joel’s tongue is heavy, suddenly too thick to form a reply. “You…you’re not?”

“No.” Gently, your thumb rubs back and forth over his cheekbone. “I thought of something to stick around for.”

“Yeah?” Joel hums. “What’s that?”

“You.”

Joel feels the heat flush his cheeks. The emotions he really feels are too much–too real–so, he settles for a joke.

“That makes sense.” He nods. “I’m pretty unforgettable.”

“Yeah.” You laugh, duck your head for a minute before your eyes meet his again. “Yeah, you are, Miller.”

x

Later that night, with most of your closet mingled with his own, he pulls you close to him in bed. His lips ghost over your forehead and an arm wraps around your side.

He glances down at his wrist, takes in the bright yellows of the sunflower petals. With gentle fingers, he finds your wrist, brings it to his mouth and kisses the yellow of your own petals.

There’s gray in his hair, but, right now, he couldn’t feel more grateful for it.

[the-karma-cafe]

arthur morgan x reader ("alllll my moneh")

(also posted on ao3 under same username)

based on Arthur's silly drunk line "I lost allllll my money... can I ... have *yours* laydey ?" yes arthur my babygirl you can have all of it

also fun hannibal reference cause i llove

“Bye Ernie!” I called over my shoulder. The man behind the bar smiled and waved as I left the saloon, the doors swinging shut behind me. I brushed my hands off on my dress and stepped down the first couple of steps, eager to head home and away from the drunkards of Valentine. The job was fun, sure, but more often than not-

“I lost allll my money...” A sad voice called out to me from the street.

I glanced over, confused. The man in the dirt street stared at me through unfocused eyes, his stance crumpled and wobbly. He seemed to be searching for something to lean on.

“Can…” he hiccuped, “Can I have yours… laadyy?” his southern drawl lengthened the word.

Despite having dealt with drunk men all evening, I smiled, tilting my head to the side. “You alright sweetie?” He looked like a lost puppy, and, unlike the other patrons of the saloon, he wasn’t saying anything untoward.

The man gave a dopey grin upon hearing my voice, stumbling forward. “M’yeah.” 

I paused, glancing around the street. He didn’t seem to have any buddies with him. I stepped towards him, my hands out and ready to catch him if he suddenly pitched forward. “Hope you don’t mind my sayin’, but you don’t look it.” I pursed my lips. “Where’re your friends, baby?” 

He shrugged and almost fell into me before catching himself a foot away. “Camp.” 

I furrowed my brow in worry. I couldn’t in good conscience let this poor drunken fool wander around the street at night—he was sure to get robbed. “You wanna tell me where that is so we can get you home, cowboy?” I gently touched his arm and he leaned towards the feeling, eyes closing and opening at random intervals. He nodded mutely. 

I went to guide him over to my horse before he wobbled out of my light hold and back into the street, shaking his head. “No! Nooo.... No I don’ wanna go to camp.”

I sighed. “You’ve gotta go somewhere, darlin’.” 

He tried to focus his eyes on my form. “Why you..” he shook his head, planting his feet. “Why d’you care?”

I gave him a pitying look. “I don’t know, mister, but just let me help.” I searched around the street, my eyes lighting on the hotel. I looked back at him, hoping my expression was as comforting and gentle as possible. “You want a room in the hotel instead?”

He eyed me for a beat, suspicious, before nodding and humming in acquiescence.

I held out my hand to stabilize him and he grabbed it instead. I blinked down at our intertwined hands. Not exactly what I had intended, but not… unwelcome. He was closer now, and I could see that he wasn’t like the drunkards I was used to. Much more handsome, and so far, much nicer as well. 

Before he could question why we hadn’t started moving, I guided him towards the hotel, fortunately only a couple doors down, and helped him up the steps and inside. 

The receptionist welcomed us in, noting our joined hands. He smiled knowingly. “Not too loud, now.” He joked. I flushed, stammering out an excuse about how that was not what it was like at all, before paying for and receiving a room key. 

The man with me kept his eyes on me the whole way up the stairs, making no move to help me get him up there. I huffed. He wasn’t a small man. 

We reached the top of the stairs and I dragged him into his room, closing the door behind us. “Alright, mister, let’s get you situated.” His weight was fully on my side and I had to remove my hand from his grip (notably difficult) and wrap my arm around him to keep him upright. I grunted, working my way towards the bed.

He turned and I felt a cool rush of air on my head. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you- Are you sniffing me??” 

He coughed, whipping his head away. “D’fficult to avoid.”

I chuckled good-naturedly. “Hope it was everything you dreamed of.”

I pushed him onto the bed and he flopped over, immediately snuggling into it. I straightened up and exhaled, looking down at him. He looked… cute, like this. He was almost like a child, fisting the blankets and tucking his legs up near his torso. I shook my head, breaking that line of thought. This was silly.

Good deed for the day done, I placed the key on his nightstand and turned to leave. 

“Wait!” A warm weight held my wrist. I turned back to find him looking up at me from the edge of the bed with the sweetest pair of puppy dog eyes I’d ever seen. “Please stay.” He mumbled, like he didn’t want to say it, and definitely would not have if he hadn’t been in such a state. 

I tore my eyes away, looking at the ground. I didn’t know this man. It was enough of a risk just to take him up here—it was even more to stay and sleep here. 

His grip loosened, sensing my indecision. “I understand.” he nodded, not looking at me. “‘M scary.” 

My heart warmed. He was so cute. I reached out and cupped his cheek, guiding him to look at me. He leaned into my hand, eyes closed. “You are so sweet.” I cooed, brushing my thumb back and forth. 

He snorted, eyes opening. “‘M not.” His gaze wandered over my face. Heat rose to my cheeks, not expecting his eyes to hold such warmth and reverence in them. He reached out, his hand aiming for my face but falling and holding my arm instead. His palm was warm. “Yer gorgeous.” The heat in my cheeks flared, painting them a bright red. 

I knew I shouldn’t. 

But he was so sweet... despite his burly appearance, he seemed like he couldn’t hurt a fly.

I sighed and moved my hand from his cheek to run through his hair. He hummed happily, his head nodding forward slightly. “You want me to stay?” He looked up, eyes hopeful.

“Yes.” he breathed. His hand dragged down my arm, shifting and stopping at my hip. My breath hitched. “Please?”

I ignored the warmth seeping into my body from my hip, smiling at him kindly. “How could I say no to that face?” My hand at his neck brought his head closer to me. I heard him hiccup. I pecked the top of his head and ruffled his hair, pushing away from him. 

His hand fell from me limply, his eyes never leaving me as I rounded the bed, shedding my bag and shoes. I contemplated taking off my dress. I had undergarments on but… no, I’d be fine sleeping in my dress. I crawled into the other side of the bed, heaving an exhausted sigh at finally being able to lay down. 

It was quiet in the room, for a couple of minutes. I faced the ceiling, but felt his gaze on me. I turned. His face still held that reverent look. I blushed, unable to fight the smile twisting my lips. “You should get some sleep, sweetheart. That headache when you wake up’ll kill.”

He nodded, slumping over onto his side, facing me. I mirrored his posture, facing him. His eyes wandered all over, but never strayed from my face, despite this being one of my lower-cut dresses. My heart fluttered.  “What’s your name?” I whispered.

His face twitched. “Arthur.”

“Like the king?”

Arthur huffed a laugh. “What’s your name?” He asked instead, just as quiet. I told him. He smiled dreamily. “’S pretty. Suits you.” 

“Thank you, Arthur.” His smile grew hearing his name. “Though I can’t say you’re very kingly presently.” I teased.

He didn’t answer, instead reaching out, brushing hair from my face. I faltered, flustered at how gentle he was. Did he even hear me? His gaze dropped to my lips. “Can I kiss you?” 

I blinked in surprise, searching his face. He pulled his hand back, dragging it over his face and groaning. “Ohh, I’m a fool.” He rolled onto his back, covering his eyes with his hand. 

I wanted to kiss him. I was surprising myself left and right today.

I reached out and touched his shoulder, pushing myself up onto my elbow. He shifted his hand to look at me with one eye. I forced myself to hold his gaze, feeling silly. “You can, Arthur, if you’d like.” 

Arthur dropped his hand. “Would you like?” I nodded.

He moved slowly, like he didn’t want to scare me off. He turned, moving his hand to cup my cheek. I tilted my head up, feeling my stomach flip nervously. He stopped, lips brushing against mine. 

Slowly, I pressed into them.

He groaned into my mouth, his hand moving towards my neck to bring me closer. I sighed happily, moving my hand to his chest. I wanted to explore further, feeling him up and down, but kept myself in check. Kissing was one thing, but... I didn’t want him to do something he would regret. He moved against me, trying to get impossibly closer.

I internally scolded myself. No further than this. I softly, regretfully, pushed against his chest, parting from him. He whimpered at the loss of contact, looking at me with sad eyes. I shook my head. "You're drunk, Arthur."

He frowned. "So?" His hand slid down from my neck, rubbing against my waist. He tugged a little, experimentally. His hand felt hot on my side, pressing me into the mattress. 

I bit my lip. "'S not right, cowboy, you know that." I poked his chest weakly. "If it was me you found out on the street like that, you wouldn't." 

He avoided my gaze. "Wouldn't I?"

"I don't know." I whispered, smoothing my hand over his chest. "I don't think you would, though." I didn't know why I was so sure. There was something about him.

He grunted, pushing into me and nuzzling his head into my neck. I made a noise of surprise, falling onto my back. "You don' know me." His lips tickled my neck as he spoke. 

I smiled, reaching my hands up to tangle in his hair. No, I did not know him, but I sure wanted to after tonight. He relaxed against my touch, almost crushing me under his weight. I didn't mind. I kissed his head, smoothing my hand down to rub circles on his back. Within minutes he was passed out, snoring softly. 

I debated leaving, but he had wormed his arms around me, snuggled in to my chest so cutely that I couldn't. I sighed, shifting my head on the pillow. The hotel was closer to the saloon than my house, anyway. This just made it easier to clock in come morning. (A flimsy excuse, but enough.)

[wayfayrr]

Did I read correctly? Requests are open? Yay!!! Lately I’ve had a thing for bathtime and especially hair washing!!! Just some romantic, soft, and fluffy LU/Reader bubble bath hair washing. (Extra points if reader has a rubber ducky. There is just something so innocent about adults with small childish things.)

Reader/Wild, Reader/Twilight, and Reader/Legend. You can stop there or add the other boys if you want.

This is my humble request.

Yep, standard requests were open, as of now though it's only event requests for the time being!!

this was fun to write, so thank you for it!! just some pure fluff with the boys you've asked for below the cut <3 it'll go wild, twilight then legend

[masterlist]

Wild

“Wild I’ve been meaning to ask for a while now, when’s the last time that you washed your hair?”

“It washes when I go swimming, Why would I waste time washing it?”

“...Wild.”

Serious, I can tell by the look of shame on his face that he’s genuine here. He’s never taken care of his hair before, never even considered it needs taking care of. Would he even know what shampoo or conditioner is? 

“...Wild.” “What’s even the issue if I haven’t, my hair is fine.”

“Time said that there’s going to be a bath in this inn, I am going to be washing your hair for you. I have some good-quality soap from my world left, I’ll be using them to get you clean”

“[name] really, I don’t have an issue with it. Don’t waste your belongings on me.”

They’re stubborn I’ll give him that, but that doesn’t mean that he gets a pass to not being clean. Even if I break my hairbrush wrangling it through his hair, I swear that I’ll get every last twig out of it. 

“Look wild, I don’t exactly want my future partner looking like this constantly.”

“Your future …partner? Why would they..? OH. OH.”

Well no escaping this now, might as well roll with it. Even though he looks like he both wants to combust and is about to start laughing at this very moment. And well, it isn’t as if his giggling isn’t sweet to hear, I just wish I hadn’t made a fool out of myself in front of him to get him to. It should be easier to convince him to let me help clean him up anyway, so that’s worked a little in my favour anyway.

“Yeah, so I’m going to clean you up a bit wild. It won't be unpleasant either I swear.”

With how caught off of his guard he is it wasn’t hard to drag him up to our shared room and into the ‘revolutionary’ bathroom, not that plumbing is common at all here, best case scenario the water is warm enough for a comfortable bath. Thankfully I’ve got more than enough supplies to make it as comfortable as I can for him, guess that's what happens when you get yanked by a shadow when you’re on the way to a friend's house to have a mock spa sleepover. 

“Is it bad that I still don’t want you to waste your few memories of home on me?”

“I don’t - It’s not a waste if it’s for you wild. Come on I’m running the tub with some bubble bath and if you don’t use it then that will be the waste”

With an almost petulant grumble, he got undressed and slipped into the bath with a contented sigh signalling that I could finally get to work on his hair. Sitting on a stool behind him to start working, gently brushing his hair with a comb to get everything out so that I can lather up his hair, just make him feel like he’s the most important person for a while. Keeping my bag next to me so that I can get anything from it quickly. The way that he’s practically melting under my touch tells me all I need to know about how much he likes this, it’s a little similar to when you pet a cat and they how just don’t stop butting against your hand none stop. Now that I think on it… I might still have that joke gift in my bag still…

“[name]... why did you stop… it feels so nice I don’t wanna get out yet…”

“To think you didn’t even want to do this at first, if you get out though I’ll lend you some of my clothes?”

That did the trick, practically instantly after saying that he was out of the bath and drying himself off. Giving myself just enough time to pull out the dressing gown and gimmick a pair of cat ears that are way too realistic. A twink in cat ears, if that won’t be a reminder of home what will. 

“I’ve got these for you if you’d like to wear them? The dressing gown is warm anyway…”

“...And the ears?”

“Oh these? I grabbed them as a joke, you don’t have-”

I don’t even finish my sentence and he’s already nabbed them out of my hands and has them on his head, like he’s almost proud of the fact he’s wearing them. Like he’s been looking for a reason to get closer and be cuddly with me. Wait if anything the look on his face was like he already knew I had them, did he go sneaking though my bag? Or did he look through the camera roll that time I gave him my phone.

“Nyah.”

“Wild how long have you been waiting for something like this?”

“Do you want me to answer that or do you just want to cuddle with me and deal with answers later.”

“...”

“I knew you’d prefer cuddles.”

Twilight

“So this place has hot springs and proper bathing then?”

“Seems it from what all the signs are sayin’, guess he’s noticed how much you’ve been dyin’ for one.”

“Has it really been all that obvious?”

If he did that means that the others probably noticed as well, which would be surprising seeing as no one’s teased me for wanting one. That likely means Twilight went and asked Time himself. He went and asked time himself just for me, I didn’t even ask for him to do that, I never even mentioned wanting one out loud. Is he like this with everyone? 

“[name] you look a bit flustered, you alright?”

“...it wasn’t a big enough issue that you had to go and ask time to stop here.”

“How’d you -”

Ah, he certainly didn’t expect me to figure his secret out so quickly, but he did have the decency to blush and look caught out anyway. A little like a hurt puppy now that I get a better look, he’s cute like this.

“Well, an-nyway darlin’ I wanted to ask if you’d let me wash your hair for you… I - you’ve talked about how much you value your hair an’ I…”

Oh Twi come on, my heart can only take so much right now. He’s trying so hard to make my heart simply melt for him and it’s working so damn well. How could I ever bring myself to say no to him when he’s asking so politely and looking after me like this? I can’t that’s the simple answer.

“Yeah, I would… I’d love that link, I’ve still got some soaps and such too… I mean if you’d want we could…  even share a bath? It’s simply a better use of what I’ve got left from home right?”

“Right - right, just to make the most of your supplies of course.” 

Now we’re both blushing, but he said yes, he wants to share a bath with me. We’re on the way to the baths right away and we’re gonna share one. I think I have a spare set of clean clothes, could I though? I could after… But for now, we’ve just got to get undressed because Twilight’s already walked us to the bathhouse extension of the inn and to where the baths are. So I just have to get out my stuff and undress while he starts filling it, this is fine, I won’t be a flustered mess during this. 

“I’ve got some lavender bubble bath as well as some shampoo and conditioner? Do you like the smell of lavender twi?”

“Lavender? I’m not sure we gave that here darlin’, if you say it’s good I’ll trust you though.”

“Okay then, just drop some into the water while it's filling so it’ll bubble while… we get undressed.”

Just take your clothes off [name] and get into the bath, simple, easy, you can do this. You can do this. Take a deep breath and take them off. Alright, they’re off now, just got to. 

“You gonna get in darlin’?”

“I’m coming now, don’t worry. What do you think of the smell anyway tw- how’d you get that?”

If there has been a single time in Hyrule where I’ve wished above all else that I had my phone working, it would be now. Twilight leaning fully into his wolf side with my rubber duck in his mouth leaning over the top of the bath, it’s so cute I have to stifle a giggle as I slip into the bath. It makes doing this a little less awkward with him being such a goof, but after taking the first step in it’s even less stressful as he drops the duck. 

“Want me to start washing your hair now?”

“Mhm, it’d be nice.”

And it really is, his rugged hands are so gentle as he runs them through my hair making sure to clean every inch, using the soaps as I suggest. It’s one of the nicest things I’ve gone through, a little hard to not fall asleep in his arms; I think he’s seen that now as well as he’s rinsing it off. I wish it could last for longer though, he’s so gentle. Between his gentle touches and the smell of lavender, how could I resist it? I won’t pass out in a bathtub though, no matter how tempting he is. 

“So want me to wash yours twi? It’s only fair.”

“Nah darlin’ I already have, when you were dozin off.”

With that he decides to get out of the bath just to put a - very kindly provided- towel on only to lift me up out of the bath while I’m already too embarrassed to act, drying me off and setting me on a stool with a chuckle. Only to fluster me further by wrapping his hooded pelt over my head with another laugh, tossing some of his clothes to me so that I can get dressed. 

“Huh..?”

“Wild mentioned you wanted to try ‘em on, so why not? I think you’d look cute anyway.”

“..Especially with how red you are.”

“THE BATH WAS HOT LINK.”

Legend

“So what’s the deal with the captain act?”

“...What?”

“You’re checking yourself out in my shield like he does, what’s the deal with that?”

He’s not even wearing the shield I don’t see what the issue is, I’m only trying to get my hair to look half-decent while it’s so greasy. How do the links deal with this for so long it’s disgusting, I’m not even a clean freak but doing this much moving without having even a 20 second shower? I feel disgusting and that’s not an understatement. 

“Look I’m not used to going this long without bathing, bite me.”

Oh, now he looks even more worked up, lovely, not like I’m trying to come off as a city slicker but I’m just not used to life like this. 

“Wild found a hot spring nearby, you should be able to clean up there. Rulie has a couple of bars of soap too, reckon I can weasel us a bit of time to escape for a bit”

What. 

“I get you’re shocked but we won’t be staying here after tomorrow, so if you want to clean up then now is your best shot.”

He’s right, by the sounds of it, it really is my best shot. I’m just shocked that it’s coming from him of all people, not that I should be looking too much into it right now just gotta have a bit of time to clean off. Hot water simply would be divine now after so long with nothing. 

“It is, you’re not lying there I’ll give you that. Wait. ‘us a bit of time?’ you want to come with me?”

A shrug. Lovely that gives so many answers about what I asked him, I now know exactly why he wants to go with me when I’m going to bathe. Does he not see the issue with implying you want to go somewhere with someone and watch them bathe. 

“Don’t give me that look, you know how dangerous everywhere is with the black-blooded monsters. It’s not safe on your own. Especially not vulnerable like that.”

“Yeah but you have to know that I’m still not used to this world and my home has very different implications for that. I’m still adjusting, okay?”

He’s as red as his hair now, if he didn’t have such a pout I’d say it’s cute otherwise, it’s just downright adorable to look at. Getting to know each others cultures is fun, more so when it gets him so worked up over a simple implication. Unless he actually did have a different idea but was too shy to ask.

“HEY DON’T GIVE ME THAT LOOK I WAS OFFERING TO LOOK AFTER YOU!”

“Yeah sure, you certainly didn’t want to ask for anything else, whatsoever, not at all.”

“...”

“..?”

“... So what if I wanted to wash your hair for you, it’s not my fault it looks so soft.”

Well that was a surprisingly innocent ask, not one I’d turn down either having my hair washed for me when I’m sitting in a hot spring sounds like pure bliss. For how he acts he seems to get my facial expressions well with how he’s ran off to get the soap from hyrule to getting directions from Wild being being any clue. It’s even cuter now that he’s a bit desperate to wash my hair for me. After getting everything though it doesn’t take too long to get to the springs, legend dragging me by the wrist was a bit of a surprise though, he must really want to do this. Another gentle shove and him turning his back when we got here is all I need to strip down and get into the water, splashing him to get his attention again.

“So how long have you been wanting to do this for then Leg?”

“Does that matter? Just relax before I give you the soap to use yourself.”

A simple laugh on my end and he just moves to lather up my hair and start washing it, being gentle, taking his time and just doing it so carefully. It’s not entirely what I’d assume he’d be like but it’s so nice I’m not sure I ever want it to end. But like everything it has to come to one, hot water being poured over my head as he tilts me back to get all the suds off. 

“Couldn’t you have carried on a bit longer? Not even a few more minutes?”

“It was hard enough getting away, we can’t stay here forever.”

“I knooow.” 

Dragging myself out was borderline painful, the air is simply so cold and I don’t even have a good way to dry myself off now, just a ratted towel hanging on by the barest of hopes. There isn’t an option to not immediately dry off and go back to the camp though, mournfully.

“Hey leg, I know I didn’t really say it before? But thanks for this, really thank you.”

“Don’t ah - don’t mention it.”

[deathblacksmoke]

i can see you in my fate

pairing: nick ruffilo x f!reader

summary: prelude to the euclid polyverse—a collection of little moments telling the story of how nick and reader met and fell in love.

cw: sex with strangers, public sex (kind of), pining, some of the sweetest fluff i've ever written in my entire life bc how could i not with these two

word count: 2.3K

author's note: a brainworm given to me by @darksigns-exe (as is almost always the case) turned into the poly origins i've been wanting to write for ages. i hope y'all enjoy it <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics 💐

“You have to come with us,” your friends had insisted. You’ve spent too long cooped up, and a band one of them is into at the moment is in town. It’ll be fun.

Not exactly your idea of a fun night, but unable to say no again, you find yourself here, alone and feeling awkward at the bar. Your friends have long disappeared into the crowd, but it’s fine enough. The music isn’t half bad—nothing you’d listen to on your own, but paired with the cheap drinks, it’s loud enough to shut out your thoughts.

Moments away from ordering your Uber and calling it a night, deciding you’ve more than honored your commitment, someone sidles up to the barstool next to yours.

Normally you’d ignore him, but something about him catches your attention. He’s unassuming, laughing brightly at something the bartender says when he orders his drink. He’s so pretty, his eyes kind when they meet yours. You hadn’t noticed yourself staring, but he doesn’t seem to mind, greeting you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Hi,” he says, and that toothy smile melts you, that sweet voice. “Can I get you one?”

You remind yourself that this isn’t why you came here. Your friends wanted to get you out of the house, and they did, and now it’s time to go home. It’s such a sweet offer from such a lovely boy, though, that you find yourself accepting it against your better judgment.

“Um…sure,” you respond, feeling more shy by the moment as you prattle your order off to the bartender. There’s a fleeting feeling that he’s going to judge you by your drink choice, but he’s still smiling at you when you’re done. You feel at ease, and it’s not at all what you expected from tonight.

“I’m Nick,” he says, extending his hand to you. When you take it in yours, you’re surprised by how soft it is. It’s warm and gentle and settles your nerves.

You learn he’s not from around here. He plays for one of the bands that played tonight, and you don’t miss the way his eyes light up a little when you tell him the name doesn’t ring a bell, that it wasn’t your idea to come tonight, that this isn’t really your scene.

He tattoos back home in Richmond, which explains the expanse of pretty ink littering his exposed skin. You wonder who the name on his neck belongs to, but decide it’s either none of your business or a question for another time.

You won’t get your hopes up for a next time.

There are so many things you want to ask him, not used to finding yourself so comfortable so quickly with strangers in dark and noisy clubs. 

He’s so animated, talking with his hands about all his favorite things—the shows he watches, his favorite bands, the stories behind his tattoos. He doesn’t get to the one on his neck before he’s sidetracked, moving a mile a minute, and you don’t ask.

“Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” he asks you, mock outrage clear in his tone. You think maybe he’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. You shake your head, sneaking a sip of your drink to hide your shy smile. “Do you want me to shut the fuck up and leave you alone?”

You’ve never shaken your head so desperately, so rushed to answer in the negative.

“No, please keep talking,” you answer, feeling as your cheeks heat but not having it in you to feel embarrassed. He’s so close to you, having slowly shifted nearer, his knee grazing your own. You burn where he touches you.

You’re working against all of your instincts, against the much smarter girl who lives inside you, so entranced by him that there’s no hesitation left in you when you accept his outstretched arm and let him lead you into the bathroom with him. You need to get your hands on him, your lips on his. It’s empty, to your surprise and delight, but the way he wedges the door closed behind him implies that he’s done this before.

You can’t allow yourself to focus on it—not when he doesn’t waste a moment, his hand slipping into your underwear and fingering through your folds while sucking a mark into the side of your neck. It’s awfully presumptuous, the whole thing, but there’s no part of you that wants to complain. You don’t have even a moment to care what your friends will think, when they pick you up for breakfast in the morning to find bruises blooming all along your skin. It just feels so good. It’s so much that you’re dizzy as you slide your hands up the back of his shirt to claw desperately at his back.

“Nick,” you gasp, feeling as your fingernail catches on the skin of his back, skin breaking. He groans, biting down hard on the side of your neck. “Nick.”

“What is it, honey? What do you need?”

The sound of the endearment spilling from his lips has you holding him closer, kissing him harder. He smiles into your mouth, clearly amused by your sudden desperation. “You, Nick. Please.”

He doesn’t move to help, doesn’t back away from you for a moment, just brings his lips back to yours.

His mind seems to snap back into reality when you start fumbling urgently with the zipper of his jeans, pulling away from the kiss and fixing you with a look that’s so shocked, so shy, so wide-eyed for someone who has two fingers inside of you, thumb still rubbing insistently at your clit.

“You—” he starts, gasping a little bit like he’s shocked by the situation, even considering he led you both into it. You go to pull your hand back, immediately concerned that you misread the situation, but he shakes his head. His eyes are still so wide and you want to kiss the dumb expression off his face. “Do you want to?”

A sliver of doubt flashes through your brain. Before you really tumble over the edge into things you can never take back, you trace your fingers along the side of his neck—

“Denise won’t mind?” you ask, realizing you probably should have brought it up before you followed him into the bathroom, but he rolls his eyes before responding.

“I’d rather not talk about my mother right now,” he responds, an amused edge to his tone.

You feel awfully silly, but he’s grinning down at you, still pleased. 

As you’re slipping out of your jeans and placing them on the grimy bathroom counter, your socked feet on the sticky floor, you make the decision to be disgusted later. You take the free pass you’ve afforded yourself to do something you shouldn’t as you hand the condom you keep in your bag just in case off to Nick.

It feels filthy because it is, but you won’t allow yourself to feel any shame about it. Not now, when he’s wrapping your legs around his waist, his jeans barely pushed down to mid-thigh, and pushing himself into you deliciously slowly.

The stretch burns in a way you weren’t prepared for, but it’s nice to feel full of him. He kisses you through it when you cry out, giggles into your mouth when there’s a deep, bellowing voice attached to the fist that’s pounding on the bathroom door—

He walks you to your car after, placing a kiss to your cheek before he asks if you’ll put your number in his phone. You don’t expect anything to come from it, but it’s an awfully nice gesture for him to make you feel wanted.

You’ve barely made it through the door when your phone lights up with a text from him.

Day off tomorrow. Let me buy you breakfast?

You want to play it cool, wait a little while to answer. You don’t want to seem too eager. But the thought of him making alternate plans because you’ve made him wait makes your heart sink. You don’t even really have to think about it—the prying questions from your friends will be more than worth it if it gets you some more time with him.

I know the perfect place.

You keep waiting for the line of communication to stop, and it just…doesn’t.

You anxiously await the day you don’t get a text wishing you a good morning. He’s bound to get bored of it eventually, you figure, but no matter where he is in the world, no matter how many hours ahead or behind, the message hits your phone before you’re out the door for the day.

It makes your heart swell each time you hear from him—the calls come more often than they don’t. It’s new, having someone this interested in you. It’s unexpected, having it be someone as lovely and busy and interesting as Nick.

You can’t help but feel it’s unsustainable, and there’s a dread pooling in your belly when you think about the end. The whens and hows of it and how you’ll possibly recover. 

When a text from him comes through on your phone, you decide to save your misgivings for another time. With Nick, it’s always that—you have to enjoy him while you can and worry about the consequences of it all later.

Got you a postcard in Denver and realized I don’t have your address. Something for your gallery wall.

You had mentioned it so briefly, just a tiny passing topic while you were on the phone and he was falling asleep. He’d had a long day and you didn’t expect him to retain any of what you were saying, happy just to get a little bit of time with him at the end of your own long day.

He sends a picture over and your tummy fills with butterflies—always so busy, especially on tour, and still he manages to think of you. A random girl he met one night in a city he isn’t from, at a show you hadn’t wanted to attend. 

It feels like an awfully lucky game of chance you both played.

I thought you might like this one. I miss you.

It’s a cutesy little thing, hand-drawn and vintage. It doesn’t fit the vibe of your wall necessarily, but you decide quickly that it will have to. You’ll make it fit.

He sends another photo of the back of the card, Wish you were here! scrawled on the back in his pretty writing, just missing an address. You give it without a second thought.

It’s the first time he ever told you he missed you, and you’re not quite sure how much he does, but the clawing emptiness you feel has you positive you miss him more.

The first time you go to visit him is more of a happy accident than anything else. He’s home from tour for a little bit and for once you have some time off work and—

When he floats the idea of you coming to stay with him for a bit, you don’t know how you’re supposed to say no.

Over a month since you met and missing him more by the day, it’s barely even a question, not even when he mentions his best friend Noah is in town, too. You start packing a bag before he even hangs up the phone.

Pulling up in front of his house to them sitting on the porch waiting for you makes your heart flutter. They’re engrossed in a conversation and you swear you can hear Nick’s big, silly laugh even through the closed windows of the car, but they’re up and smiling before you step out.

Every worry you had about feeling out of place here is pushed away when Noah pulls you into a hug first. You hear Nick whining from somewhere behind him, and you find yourself grinning, so welcomed.

You knew what a big step this was, meeting Noah. You’ve heard Nick talk about him enough to know how important he is. Either it’s not as big of a deal as you made it out to be, or it’s really just right, the way you’ve found yourself in Nick’s life. 

“Noah, she’s my girlfriend,” Nick complains, before pulling you out of Noah’s embrace and into his. It catches you by surprise, but you find yourself not wanting to question it. It’s awfully presumptuous of him, but it’s so Nick at the same time. Deciding what he wants and having it.

“I’m your girlfriend?” you ask, an edge of teasing in your voice. His reply is delayed and for a fleeting moment, you worry he’d misspoken.

“You are, aren’t you?” he responds, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s what I’ve been telling everyone. I don’t really want to take it back.”

It’s just right.

Everything fits so seamlessly well you wonder how you ever managed a life before him.

When he has an opportunity for a guest spot at a tattoo shop nearby, a second thought doesn’t pass through your mind before you tell him to take it, and don’t bother renting a place.

It feels like it should have always been this way when you come home in the evenings to Nick napping on the sofa, or cooking in the kitchen, or on a phone call with his mom. The nights he works late are made worth it when you’re roused from late evening naps to delicate kisses all over your face. Your life grows around him and everything fits.

It feels idealistic, a chilly winter walk, holding hands in his coat pocket. You feel giddy, like your first high school crush, but it’s something so tangible and overwhelmingly real.

He drags you into a café for a treat and an escape from the chill outside. His gloved hands are placed on the sides of your face to warm you up and there’s no instinct left to shy away from his gaze. His nose and cheeks are tinged the faintest pink. He’s gorgeous.

“I love you,” you say without thinking.

The surprised expression you’ve come to expect from him doesn’t make its appearance this time, just his big, pretty smile, like he was waiting for it all this time. “I love you more.”

@concretenoah @circle-with-me @darksigns-exe @ladyveronikawrites @cookiesupplier @agravemisstake @baddestomens @sitkowski @monotoniscreaming @bngurngheart @abiomens @collapsedglasshouses @itsafullmoon @anameunmusical @iknownothingpeople

[bellewintersroe]

Carlos Sainz x Celebrity OC Mer&Der trope… Part 1.

For all those who’s seen Greys Anatomy you’ll know exactly how Meredith& Derek got together and that’s gonna be the trope for this story. If you haven’t seen Greys then it’s fine, but OC is a celebrity hired as a reporter during the Grands Prix of 2021. Anyway, I won’t spoil anything further…

AN- I tried to use the name Molly Ashley as the OC name but because I’m so used to writing OC as Jenny or Jennifer that I kept slipping up so just stuck to that, but altered it to Jenna just to switch it up, so if there’s any errors that’s why!!! (Was going to use Belle my real name but it kinda made me cringe). warnings - mentions of sex, maybe a slow start, nothing too graphic… yet. Excuse my lack of F1 knowledge I’m trying my best lmao

“Ahh there she is!” Ted Kravitz, the infamous F1 grid walk reporter exclaimed, grinning as I hurried in, panting desperately as I scurried into the room. “Sorry, I had to run!” I placed both hands on my knees, holding the papers I’d sprinted back to my hotel room to gather before making it back here in a record time of six minutes. I’d run for six minutes flat- and I hadn’t run a singular meter since secondary school. 20 year old me was aging bad.

“Almost beat a world record there!” Oh my god, Jenson fucking Button was stood right in front of me and I was practically wheezing for air. Not to mention I was violently hungover from last nights party. Sky reporters and the crew went a lot harder than I ever could have imagined…

“Hello! Sorry, I’m so out of breath.” I stood up straighter, shaking his hand as I handed over the papers to once of the producers who needed them. “It’s lovely to meet you! I’m Jensen” He laughed as I attempted to laugh back, but it just came out as a breathless wheeze. “I’m Jenna!” I managed to speak as he smiled, patting my upper back. “I’ll let you die in peace.” “Not just yet! Are you ready to interview some drivers, Jen?” Lisa, the woman who hired me headed over. She was like the CEO of F1 reporters for Sky, I didn’t know how it worked, but I was bloody glad she was here to guide me. “Just about.” I managed to stand up straighter. Nicole, the makeup artist, and Sebastian, the hairstylist, both headed over to touch me up- something I found myself enjoying a little too much. These people made me look better than anybody I’d ever had done my hair or makeup, I was starting to rely on them to make me look human, especially after last night.

“Well your first up with Max Verstappen, he was second to Lewis in Bahrain, will definitely be pushing for first today.”

“Oh yes! I know Max.” I waved my hand, I’d befriended Max two nights ago when all the drivers were out. “Yeah, Max and Charles looked to have a lot of fun with you the other night.” Lisa teased. Long story short, we’d taken one too many shots and Max Verstappen had thrown up over the side of a bridge into an Italian canal below. Classic.

Knowing my first interview ever was just with Max was reassuring. It made it all way less intimidating, even if the interview didn’t go so smoothly, it was entertaining and that’s exactly what I was hired for. “If you win how are you gonna celebrate?” I asked, holding the mic towards him. “You know exactly how!” Max began cracking up as I attempted to hold back my laughter. “Did you know your sky presenter can drink men under the table?” He slung an arm around me, tugging me to face the camera directly. I gasped and instantly began speaking again. “Well good luck today Max!! Wishing you all the best!” He laughed out loud as I changed the subject abruptly. “Thank you!” He laughed giving me a quick hug, “and you’ll be out tonight, yeah?” He asked as I nodded. “Sure.” “Hopefully not sneaking off with-“

“Oh, no, no, no!” My eyes widened, preventing him from finishing that sentence. Last night I’d got home with a man- another driver to be precise. It seems news spread quick amongst drivers and the grid. Max smirked and gave my one last goodbye before I moved on to interview a couple more celebrities lined up on the grid, waiting for the race to start. Interviewing random people there was far more easier than the drivers, when it came my time to head back over to where Ferrari were preparing on the grid I felt my chest tighten.

“Uh, Lisa, who’s my next interview with?”

“Well, just grab whoever you can, you’ve been doing so great at that so far, but next you are interviewing…” she scrolled down on her phone screen. Whilst I awaited her answer, I felt my heart rate increase, as if the hungover palpitations weren’t enough, this was giving me full blown anxiety. My eyes scanned over the grid, seeing two men dressed in their red Ferrari gear, it seemed they were awaiting me, looking over in the distance. Charles Leclerc and-

“Carlos Sainz!” Fuck! Simultaneous to Lisa saying his name there was a quick. “Yes?!” Following this, a body appeared besides mine and I was momentarily breathless, Carlos Sainz. The exact man I’d slept with only 12 hours prior and woken up next to in bed this morning. A series of flashback swept through me followed by a serious swooning as my eyes gazed up to the taller man. A pair of his dark eyes met my own gaze, and I saw him physically react. Eyes widened, mouth slightly parted. His gloved hand moved up to touch his chest, I wondered if his heart had leapt the exact same way mine had? “Carlos Sainz?!” I took a deep breath, forcing a smile as I remembered the cameras were rolling. “Hola!” He greeted, surprise lacing his tone, he hesitated slightly, waiting for my reaction before moving closer and greeting me to a kiss either side of my cheek. I gulped at the contact, the close proximity wafting the scent of his cologne, the exact same one that was plastered over my pillow cases. Double fuck! He was somehow even sexier now I was sober! “Jenna Ashley.” He laughed a little breathlessly as I remembered, judging by the flag on his front, he was Spanish. Duh. “Hola.” I giggled, knowing my face was just as vibrant as his uniform. I could feel Lisa eyeing me up from the sidelines of the interview.

“¿Hablas español?” (Do you speak Spanish?) he asked immediately, eyebrows perking, he seemed slightly nervous, unable to hold eye contact. I didn’t know if that was the awkwardness from the fact the man was quite literally inside of me last night.

“Uhhh, un poco. Pero hablemos en ingles o no les gusto.” (a little, but let’s talk in English or they wont like me). I slowly translated, glancing back to the clueless cameraman and Lisa. I think that made sense, my nerves mixed with my limited Spanish probably made me speak like a child. Carlos laughed in response, rubbing his hands on his uniform. I then went through a series of questions, finding it hard not to giggle with him right in front of me. I was reduced to the behaviour of a school girl. “How are you gonna celebrate if you win today? Or if you don’t win?!” “Any way possible… now there’s no COVID restrictions!” He inhaled excitedly. “Sounds good to me.” I glanced back at the camera, feeling his eyes lingering over me.

“Thank you, Carlos, it’s been a pleasure, good luck for today! I wish you the best.” I laughed, barely being able to maintain eye contact with him as his plump lips stretched into a happy smile. God, he was perfect, tanned skin, Spanish accent, insanely nice, polite, perfect mop of hair, and don’t get me started on those eyes, he had me swooning like I was straight out of a cartoon. “Gracias… thank you.” Carlos nodded down to me and the camera as I flashed him a small smile, stealing another glimpse at him through my eyelashes as he cleared his throat slightly once the camera was turned away. I could feel his eyes burning holes into me, I couldn’t tell if he was checking me out or if he was entirely baffled by the situation. I swallowed the lingering anxiety I felt, tensing my jaw at the thought of him scanning over my face. “Good luck.” I then flashed him another smile to combat the awkwardness as he stepped a little closer. “N-no sabia que ibas-“ (I did not know you were going-) he stammered, but his words fell short when I was being ushered onto my next interview. “I promise I’ll let you mingle afterwards! I’m sorry!” Lisa apologised, attempting to move me on. I turned back up to Carlos, opening my mouth but my words fell short. When we made eye contact once more I felt the butterflies in my stomach, the cliche way my heart jumped, and that knot in my chest tightening. It was all happening at once. “Good luck again!” I politely nodded as he offered me another genuine smile, eyes lingering over my face, as though he was trying to analyse my features. Pffft, it wasn’t like he didn’t have chance to do that last night. Talking about last night… my mind roamed back to the events of the night before, clouded from the mix of alcohol and sex that plagued my mind.

[mirkwoodmunson]

silly boy

eddie munson x gn!y/n

850 words

you pick eddie up from lockup and give him a good scolding

contains: lil angst, lil fluff, lil bit of hopper, est. relationship, pre-s3-4 tw: cursing, drug mention, jail mention, self-deprecation, scolding a/n: wanting to do more short n’ sweet lil drabbles cause they’re easier more fun and my brain hurt — shoot me some ideas! disc: i do not give permission to share my content outside of tumblr; please reblog and do not repost; my content (even sfw) is not meant for minors; i am not responsible for the media you consume online.

“What the fuck, Munson,” your voice croaks, weighty with a mixture of anger, relief, watching him sheepishly make his way towards you.

You stand beneath the ‘HAWKINS POLICE’ sign, stood in front of Eddie’s van with tightly crossed arms. Hopper nods at you once, eyeing Eddie with final regard before turning back inside.

Eddie holds up placating hands, but something in your gut twists and you purse your lips, almost glaring from behind your lashes. You shift away from him as he draws near, not letting him touch you like he very much wants to. He tries to meet your gaze but keeps looking away.

“y/n, listen, I-“

“No, Eddie — what the fuck?!! Do you know Wayne’s been worried sick about you?? That I- I’ve been looking for you Eds, for days, till Chief Jim Fucking Hopper lets your uncle know you got picked up across state lines?!? What the fuck were you thinking??”

Angry hot tears have begun spilling, dripping heavily from your jaw, but rather than cry you just swallow the knot in your throat and jab a finger into his chest.

“Get in the car, Eddie.”

You hold it there a moment before turning and climbing into the driver’s seat.

Eddie stands there for a moment after you’ve turned away and just, looks down at the pavement, heart in his stomach. After a few beats he sighs, walks around the other side and slowly climbs into the passenger side, dully closing the door.

“You know I don’t care that you sell, Eddie — I don’t; I know that you do it for a reason, God knows I’ve got my fair share from you. But—“ you heave an exasperated sigh and gesture uselessly with your hands before dropping them heavily into your lap.

“What were you doing??”

You look over at him, Eddie looks down into his lap, spinning a ring on one of his jeweled fingers.

“Eds. Lookit me.”

Hesitation, before he lifts his head, shyly gazes with those goddamn big brown doe eyes. You sigh again and lean your head against the headrest, brow knitted.

“Your turn. I’ll stop scolding. What were you doing?”

Eddie’s lips thin as he presses them together, swallowing thickly and shaking his head a little, dispirited and very aware he’s deeply upset you.

“Being, fucking dumb—“

“You’re not dumb Eds you just— you make silly decisions sometimes.”

“Is that not what it means to be dumb?”

“No. It’s not. You’re not dumb. You’re silly. I’m sorry I’m so upset, babe, but… You can understand why, right? Eddie — Wayne was crying.”

That gets his head to snap up again, eyes wide and concerned.

“He couldn’t look for you ‘cause he had to work, so he asked me. We were so worried about you, you hadn’t been picked up yet so they weren’t much help,” you nod towards the police station.

“Called around Hellfire, Hideout, checked out Rick’s,” you give a heavy shrug and then rub your eyes.

“We thought—“ you sigh and sag your shoulders. “I don’t know, Eddie, we thought you got hurt. That something happened. You left your van, so like — what if someone…”

Eddie squeezes your hand and a few more tears drop. He’d had deals go wrong before, bad customers, and even though you knew Eddie, he wasn’t exactly the most well-liked person around town. You’d seen him get hurt before.

“I’m really sorry,” his voice is a little strained, upset that he’s upset you.

“I’m dumb — point fuckin’ blank — I’m dumb. It was a big deal, two-hundred bucks, they wanted to drive out someplace and I’m dumb, I realize how dumb that is now and—“

You kiss him quiet, pulling him in with hands cupped against his neck.

“Eddie Munson you are not fucking dumb!” You giggle tearfully against his lips, foreheads pressed together as he scoops your cheeks up and holds you near, pecking your nose and cheeks.

“I’m an ass, a big giant ass—“

“Shut up,” you hiss with a soft smile, nipping his bottom lip to which he finally utters a deep chuckle.

“You’re a silly, silly boy and you make silly decisions, and I worry about you and you scared me. You’re not dumb,” a smooch to the corner of his mouth, “you’re not an ass,” one to his jaw.

“Just…please, be more fucking careful. Maybe take a break from selling for a bit, yeah? Wayne is gonna have a heart attack if you go missing again, and then I’m gonna have a heart attack, and then who’s gonna pick you up from jail??”

You give his head a little jostle, and he laughs again, nuzzling his nose alongside yours.

“I promise I promise I promise — I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”

You giggle and peck another kiss to his cheek before starting up the van.

“Now get buckled, silly boy, I can see the Chief looking through the window.”

Sure enough Jim Hopper’s scowl is visible through the pane, and Eddie snorts as he fastens his belt before you take him home to his waiting uncle.

[bobohu4eva]

Good to You - Part 4

Characters: Idol!Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Maid AU, fluff, smut

Warnings for this chapter: Explicit unprotected sex, alcohol consumption

WC: 5.8k

Tag List: @scentlacigarette @ltamiee @listxn

Masterlist

True to your word, when the next day came, you acted like nothing happened. You greeted him in the morning the same way you always did, and made sure he ate something before leaving for work. 

Baekhyun was having a much harder time ignoring the events of the previous night. Of course you had assured him that nothing would change, but he didn't understand how he was supposed to just ignore it. 

You noticed, and when he came home later that evening he was still acting uncharacteristically shy. The two of you sat down to eat dinner together as you usually would, and you asked him about his day, but every response was far more reserved than you were used to. 

“Is everything okay?” You eventually asked. He fidgeted in his seat, avoiding your eyes. “Baekhyun?” 

He was blushing, and he let out a sigh. “I know you said everything would stay the same but, I think I need time to get used to.. everything.” 

You frowned, hoping that he'd be back to his normal self soon, you missed his usual easy going nature. It wasn't exactly surprising to you that he felt a bit weird after what you'd done together, though. 

However, you were surprised when he knocked on your door later, after you'd each said goodnight and retired to your own rooms. You told him to come in, and you could tell by his bashfulness what he was there for. 

“I can't sleep.” He said. 

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, he’d told you he had a pretty high sex drive but you still hadn’t expected him back in your room so soon, especially after acting so awkward all day. 

“And why’s that?” 

He just whined, embarrassed, but still made his way to the bed where he joined you. “Don't make fun of me.” 

“I'm not!” 

“Mhm sure.” He was pretending to be offended, but you knew better than to take him seriously when you felt one of his hands start to move up your thigh. “Can I..?” 

You hummed in agreement, and he was over you, once again attaching his lips to your neck, his hand still on your thigh, getting closer and closer to where he wanted to be. 

This was how it would end up happening most nights, now that you'd opened that door to him. When the day was over, he would knock on your door, waiting for you to let him in, and then he would join you in bed. He would start slowly, kissing down your chest as he undressed you, and then finally when he had you naked, he'd start to touch you. 

His delicate fingers ghosted over the sensitive skin, leaving the gentlest of touches, thoroughly enjoying the view of your body before him, watching you get more and more turned on as he increased the pressure. It didn't take long until you were more than ready to have him inside you, but he just kept going, ignoring the way his dick was straining against his pants and underwear. 

You always stopped him before he could make you come. The way you saw it, this was for him, to help him relax. It felt good for you too, of course, but if he made you come, especially while he was inside you, it would break down an unspoken barrier that you still felt you needed to hide behind. 

This time too, you held onto his wrist when his fingers inside you almost became too much. With the other hand you tugged on his clothes, and he granted you your wish, returning to the bed as naked as you. 

Every time he entered you, the first push made you gasp and hold onto him for dear life. He was fairly gifted when it came to size, big enough that you needed a few seconds to adjust before he'd start thrusting. And when he did start to move, you both couldn't manage much past incoherent curses and moans. 

Unlike the first night, he wasn't going to cum so soon. He was loving how you felt around him, and he moved one of your hands from where it held onto his back, intertwining your fingers with his own, pressing them into the mattress next to your face as his lips kissed over the spot on your neck that made you gasp. 

The combination of his cock stretching you out and his mouth on you nearly pushed you over the edge, but you held back, refusing to give into the feeling. His thrusts were picking up speed, getting more punishing every second. Like him, it had been too long since you'd been cared for this way, and it was almost too much. 

Without any warning, he slowed down, leaning up a bit. “Look at me.” 

You'd kept your eyes shut the last time, but now you quickly opened them, finding him gazing down at you. He brought a hand to your face, leaning back down until he was almost kissing you, but not quite, knowing that was unfortunately still off limits. His eyes stayed fixed on yours, even as he continued to fuck you, not wanting to miss the way you looked at him when he made you feel like this. 

Eventually, however, he gave into the feeling, fueled by the way you looked and felt beneath him as he let go. 

You too couldn't look away as he fell over the edge, pushing in as deep as he could before leaving you completely, accompanied by his cum as it ran down your thigh. His face when he came was goddamn beautiful, and you hoped you would be able to remember it for a long time. This time when he brought you a towel and helped you clean up, you let him stick around for a little while, but eventually, he went back to his room to sleep. 

The next day he had schedules from the morning until late into the evening, but the whole time he thought of you, and how much he wished he could’ve stayed in bed with you for the rest of the night. He still hadn’t slept very well, he just wanted you there next to him. 

When he got home that evening and you weren't there, his heart sank. Of course you still had your own place that you needed to go back to every few days, but he felt awfully lonely that night without you. 

As the weeks went on, he started to dread those nights horribly. Most other nights he would at least come into your room and have you that way, but it was also starting to sting a little more each time you’d tell him goodnight, his cue to go back to his own bedroom. He knew that he wanted so much more than what you could give him. 

He also couldn’t help but wonder why you didn’t let him eat you out, or why you never came with him. It was clear that you enjoyed being intimate with him, but you never let yourself give in to him the way he wanted you too. He wanted to feel it, and he wouldn’t stop trying until he finally did. Another part of him also hoped that maybe if he could take down one of those walls you’d built, you would finally accept him as a real lover. The way things were between the two of you was too much of a confusing mess for him to bear. 

There was a day that had been particularly tough for him, over 12 hours of being up on his feet and having to deal with endless disagreements among staff at various shoots had left him drained. By the time he was on his way home his entire body ached and he was in a pretty bad mood. He knew that as soon as he saw your smiling face and sat down to eat, he would feel much better, but when he got to his apartment, he found it empty. You were at your own place again. 

He knew he shouldn’t have gotten as upset as he did, and felt a little pathetic when he grabbed a bottle of liquor, and used that to get himself to sleep away the bad feelings of the day. 

The next evening Baekhyun was glued to your side, insisting on watching a movie with you after eating dinner. Even when the movie ended, and it was time for you both to start getting ready to sleep, he didn’t want to let you go. After many nights of laying alone and thinking about it, he finally decided to ask you, “How would you feel about sleeping in my room tonight?” 

Before you had the chance to talk yourself out of it, you agreed. When you got into bed with him, you expected him to want sex, but to your surprise, he didn’t. He did want to hold you, but he wasn’t sure if that would be appropriate. But just knowing that you were there with him still helped, and he slept better that night than he had in weeks.

After giving it some thought, he decided to make you an offer, and the next mornig when you sat down to eat, he decided to bring it up. 

“You like staying here right?” He asked, looking surprisingly nervous as he awaited your response. 

“Yeah of course, why do you ask?” 

“I was thinking, you stay here more often than not anyway, and you're paying for a whole other place that you're barely at, what if you moved in here, like for good?” 

He'd caught you a bit off guard, but you quickly accepted his offer, and any anxiousness you'd seen in him earlier was replaced with a wide grin. 

“That's really generous of you, I hope I'm not impeding though.” 

“No, not at all! I actually.. I kind of miss having someone to come home to when you’re gone.” He admitted sheepishly. 

Now it was your turn to hold back a smile, knowing that you probably liked hearing that a little too much. 

“I'll need some time to pack and whatnot, but I could probably start staying here for good by the end of the month.” 

He looked happy with your answer, but you could tell he still had more to ask you. 

“Also, I know you have all your stuff and need somewhere to put it, and you'll still want your own space, but.. I’d like it if you kept sleeping in my room, if you’d be okay with that.” 

When you hesitated, he quickly filled the silence again. “Only if you want to! I know that's kind of a lot to ask, if you'd rather stay in the other room that's okay, I think I just sleep better when I'm not alone.” 

His ears were pink, and he looked so so cute, even in a simple t- shirt and sweats. Especially in the mornings, he had a softness about him, just because of the way he was, when he wasn't quite fully awake yet. 

You knew you didn't need to tell him, he could tell by how big you were smiling. Of course you'd sleep next to him. He knew you'd do nearly anything for him. But only nearly. Moreso, he wondered why you didn't allow the few things he craved even more, things like kissing you. 

He knew what it felt like to cum inside of you, but not what your lips would feel like against his own. You would sleep next to him, but wouldn't acknowledge the undeniable, real, attraction you both felt for each other, not just sexual. He'd said it plainly, you were everything he could ever want or ask for, but you chose to brush it off. 

It wasn't hard for him to understand why. You had to be careful just getting in and out of his apartment to avoid people who might see too much and start talking. He would never have the freedom to take you out on a real date, and being seen with you in public could easily make things unsafe for you. Not to mention his work schedule, he knew it was shitty to constantly come home after midnight, and have to leave for sometimes weeks at a time for overseas schedules. He knew he couldn't be the kind of lover you deserved.

For the time being, he was just grateful to have you in the ways that he could, getting to have sex with you and fall asleep next to you was still far more than he felt he'd earned. 

Sleeping in the same bed with you, and nice as it was, also made him want even more. He hated that he still paid you, not because money was a problem for him, it wasn't, but he wished you were there with him because you wanted to be. Unfortunately though, the way you two met made that impossible. This was still your job, despite how much it didn't feel that way anymore. As much as he wanted things to change, he was worried that if he brought it up, you'd be out of his life completely. He knew that starting anything real with you would make your life significantly more difficult and complicated and he couldn't do that to you. 

Spending your nights next to him was something you'd quickly learned to love, waking up to his smiling face was your favorite part of the day, and made early mornings far more bearable. Going to bed with him was also nice, but on the nights you'd have sex you were starting to struggle to keep your boundaries in place. He was getting to know your body better, and you knew you wouldn't be able to hold yourself back forever, but you were scared for what would happen and how you would feel when he finally succeeded in pushing you over the edge. 

Your other boundaries were also starting to slip. About a month after you started sleeping next to him, on a particularly cold night, you'd curled up against him for warmth, smiling when he wrapped an arm around you. He held you every night after that, and you enjoyed it too much to stop him. When you were secure in his arms you felt more blissful than you even knew possible. His broad shoulders and strong chest easily encompassed you, making you feel protected and warm, and he even smelled amazing. The faint lingering of his cologne combined with his natural scent swept over you like a weighted blanket, making you sink into him as far as you could. Every night he relished the way you clung to him, keeping you snugly in his embrace. 

On the day you turned your keys in at your old place and officially moved in with him, Baekhyun bought a nice bottle of champagne and ordered an equally fancy dinner for you both to share. 

“You didn't have to do all this.” You told him as he poured you your first glass, but he shook his head. 

“I wanted to! Moving is such a hassle, now that everything's finished we should celebrate.” 

He smiled and held up his glass, and you followed suit. “Cheers.” 

It was cute, he seemed even more excited about the move than you did. 

“Cheers.” You clinked the rim of your glass to his, and took your first sip. You didn't want to know what he'd paid for the bottle, but from what you could tell, it was probably a lot. 

“I also wanted to thank you again, for everything you've done for me since we met. I can't even begin to tell you how helpful you've been, I seriously don't know what I would do without you, so thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I don't know what I did in a past life to deserve all this.”

You couldn't help but blush, of course you always did your best when it came to the household stuff, but you assumed he was talking about more than just that. A normal housekeeper didn't have sex with their boss, or live with them, or rub their back after a long day. A normal housekeeper wouldn't consider their boss one of their best friends either. 

“You really think that a good housekeeper is more telling of virtues from a past life than landing a job where millions of people are constantly telling you how amazing and in love with you they are?” 

He laughed, “Okay you have a point but that's just work, you make everything else that isn't work so much better than I ever imagined it could be.” 

For a second you thought about asking him to elaborate, but you were pretty sure you knew what he was implying. Even if there wasn't anything official between the two of you, you were likely the closest thing he'd had to a romantic relationship in a while. But you knew if you started thinking about that too much, you would lose it, so you didn't.

“Don't mention it.” You said, and took another sip of champagne. 

“Do you like it?” 

“The champagne? Of course, it's probably the fanciest drink I've ever had.” 

He grinned, very pleased with your answer. He'd give you all the beautiful and delicious things in the world, if it meant he got to see you happy. 

The dinner was equally amazing, and you'd both finished the bottle of champagne surprisingly fast, especially considering how little you usually drank. But it was so good and went so well with the meal, you were even a little sad when he emptied the last of it into his glass. 

You must've been pouting pretty hard, because right away he stood up and told you he was getting another bottle. You tried to tell him that he didn't need to, but he insisted that the store was really close by and if you wanted more, he would deliver. You didn't seem drunk, so he didn't see any harm in keeping the celebration going a little longer. 

When he returned, he happily refilled your glass. It was your idea to move to the couch to watch something, but the romcom you picked out went mostly ignored as you kept drinking and laughing together. 

Baekhyun wasn't the best at handling his liquor either, and by the halfway mark you were both giggling like little kids.

After accidentally brushing against your stomach in a way that had you involuntarily laughing out loud, yelling that you were ticklish there, he kept trying to tickle you, so you kept trying to poke his “cookie pouch”, as he called it, the soft area of his lower stomach where he gained weight the quickest. You hadn't smiled so much in years, and neither had he, the alcohol lowered both your inhibitions to the point where blatant flirting didn't even feel out of the norm. The touching and teasing felt perfectly natural, like you'd known each other for years. Both of you made no effort to keep your hands to yourselves, pushing past the pesky clothes that were blocking the skin beneath. He was beyond adorable when he was like this, and you gushed at how cute he was, not caring to censor yourself in the slightest, He just kept insisting that you were even cuter. He was able to give you the kind of butterflies usually reserved only for young girls with their first crush. Baekhyun was simply too good to be true, he had to be. Someone that gorgeous, talented, and successful couldn't also be a genuinely lovely, humble and caring person. And if he really was, he wouldn't be giving you the time of day. As good as it felt to be on the receiving end of his affection, you knew in your heart that you didn't deserve him. 

You couldn’t remember much after the movie ended, including how the two of you got into bed that evening, but clearly you did since you woke up in his room the following morning, head pounding.

He was already up and getting ready for the day when you started to get up, but after only a few seconds of standing you felt the urgent need to run to the bathroom to throw up. 

It had been ages since you were last hungover, but this was worse than anything you could remember. 

“Y/n?” He knocked on the door, and you groaned. “Are you okay?” 

You dragged yourself off the floor, rinsed out your mouth, and opened the door. 

“I think I'm hungover.” 

He could see how pale you were, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that you'd just puked. 

“Shit.. I'm sorry I shouldn't have gotten that second bottle we were just having such a good time and you looked so sad when the first one was gone so I-” 

“Baekhyun, it's okay, I'll be okay, I just need to take it slow today.” 

“Do you want me to get you anything? I can go to the store and get you some Gatorade and some pain killers, or if you want to eat something let me know and I'll order it.” 

You smiled, “Don't worry about me, you're gonna be late for work and hopefully I'll be feeling better by this evening, it's just a hangover.” 

“One second..” He disappeared for a minute, and when he was back he wore a big smile. “I don’t have to work, I’m going to the store.” 

You gave him a weird look, but you knew he wouldn’t skip work so you didn’t say anything, just waved him goodbye before he headed out the door. 

He wasn’t gone for very long and soon he was handing you a bottle of gatorade, headache medicine, and some bread. “Is there anything else I can do to help? I could run you a bath, or make some tea, or coffee.” 

He looked so worried, and it was kind of cute, but you only had a hangover, by the end of the day you’d probably be fine. 

“I’m okay, really. Thank you for getting all this for me, that’s really sweet of you.”

“Are you sure? It’s my fault you’re hungover, I want to help as much as I can.” 

He was still looking at you with those puppy eyes and you so badly wanted to grab him and hug him and tell him how cute and lovely he was, but you held yourself back. 

“Yes, I’m sure, if I do need anything I’ll tell you. Are you gonna be home all day now that you don’t have to work?” 

He nodded happily, and you were going to say something, but before the words could come out you needed to run to the bathroom again. Nothing would even come up anymore, but you still felt awful, and decided to just get back into bed. A couple minutes later, Baekhyun was coming in with a pot of tea, setting it down on the nightstand along with a cup and some honey. “When I was little my mom always made me ginger tea when I got an upset stomach.”  

His thoughtfulness made you smile, “Thank you.” 

You were planning to take a few sips and then go back to sleep, but when he asked if he could keep you company with that same devastatingly adorable pout from earlier, you made space for him to get into bed next to you. 

There was plenty of space for you both, but you still leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. 

He turned his head to look down at you, surprised by how affectionate you were being. When your eyes met his, you were awestruck. He was so beautiful, so kind hearted, so generous, so caring, you almost thought you might still be dreaming. Men like him were too hard to find, it couldn't be that you were here with him, in the apartment that you both shared, cuddled up together as he helped you get over your hangover. 

“How are you not hungover at all? You were pretty drunk too.” 

He smiled, vaguely remembering some of your shenanigans. “Yeah I was, but I only felt a little groggy this morning. After one coffee it was gone.” 

“Lucky.” 

“Next time I have to remind you to drink more water. I chugged a glass of water right before bed, that probably saved me.” 

You just hummed in agreement. The nausea was finally fading, and exhaustion soon took over, until you were nodding off on his shoulder. 

Baekhyun happily stayed there with you, playing on his phone while you took a nap. When you snored a little he laughed, finding it endlessly endearing. Your sleeping face was so cute, and before he could give it a second thought he was pressing his lips to the crown of your head. The no kissing rule was becoming more and more frustrating to have to follow with each passing day. Especially during sex, he had to fight off the urge to just give in and finally press his lips to yours.

You woke up from your nap a few hours later, and decided to try and eat something. Baekhyun insisted you start with the bread he got you, something easy on your stomach in case it decided to start acting up again. He got up to go make you more tea, leaving his phone on the bed with you. 

He'd been gone a few minutes when it started vibrating. You looked at who it was, ready to call him back over if it was someone important, but you realized it was his manager, and he’d tried to reach him over ten times already. There were endless texts and voicemails too, and you almost couldn't believe it, but it had to be. 

He skipped work because of you. 

When he turned the corner into your room holding the tray with more tea he was grinning happily, but when he saw you holding his phone, he quickly ran over, snatching it out of your hand. 

Unfortunately for him, you'd already seen enough. His smile was long gone and your disappointed face told him all he needed to know. 

You let out a long sigh. “Baekhyun, what the hell? Are you seriously ditching work right now? Why?” 

The soft droopiness of his eyes made the emotions behind them hit you just a little harder.

“You said you didn't feel good.” He replied quietly, cheeks and ears growing a deeper shade of pink with every passing second. 

“What does that have to do with your work? You wouldn't even skip when you were actually really sick.”

“But that's different.” He sat down on the bed with you again, avoiding your eyes. 

“It's not your job to take care of me.” 

“Don't remind me.” It came out sounding surprisingly bitter. “They only did rehearsals today anyway, I didn’t miss anything important.” 

“You still shouldn’t just skip, and it was only a hangover.” 

When your eyes finally met his, the faint sadness in them surprised you. He was good at pouting and it was usually just cute to you, but this was something else. Something inside of him appeared genuinely hurt. “You don’t get it.” He said it so softly, you almost missed it.

“I don’t get what?” 

A sigh escaped his lips, eyes squeezed shut. His face when he opened them made your heart twist. It was more than just sadness. “For once I want to be able to take care of you the same way you take care of me.” 

“You do take care of me, you pay my bills.” You tried to lighten the mood, but he was still sulking, and simply shook his head. Without another word, he got up and went to the other room. 

You left him alone for the rest of the day, until it was time to go to sleep. He was already in bed when you joined him, curling up next to him, and you felt a flood of relief when you saw him smile. All day you'd felt bad about how sad he looked, and how quiet he’d been after. You couldn’t be sure, but he’d seemed to spend the rest of the day sulking after leaving you alone. Maybe it was just your imagination, but it seemed like he held you tighter than usual that night. 

In the morning Baekhyun woke up before his alarm clock went off, and for the first time, you felt him wake you up with his lips on the back of your neck and his hands running down your body. It wasn't long until you felt his dick against your backside as well. 

“Good morning” you hummed at his actions, and he turned you around to face him. 

“Good morning.” His cheeks were flushed, and still a little swollen. He looked breathtaking. 

“May I?” The way his hand crept up your inner thigh told you what he was asking. As usual, you nodded, unsuccessfully holding back a smile. 

The whimper that fell off your lips when his hand reached its destination egged him on even more, sliding into the confines of your underwear. 

Baekhyun didn't know it yet, but morning sex, to you, was the best. You loved it, and wondered why it had never happened with him before. You needed him in a far more urgent and desperate way than you'd ever experienced. 

His pretty fingers found your clit right away, teasing it with gentle circles, spreading your wetness around. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from begging for more. Trying to keep your composure this time was going to be near impossible. 

You clung to him, one hand nearly breaking the skin from how hard you grabbed onto his bicep. Unsteady gasps replaced any normal breathing pattern you'd once had as his fingers kept slipping around your wetness, bringing you closer to release too quickly for comfort. 

“Fuck, too much.” 

Your hand moved to his wrist, trying to pull his hand away, but he wouldn't budge. 

“You really want me to stop?” He'd slowed down abit, but your hand on his wrist didn't stop the movement of his delicate fingers as they gave you exactly what you needed. He was looking straight down at you, daring you to tell him to stop, but you stayed quiet. 

The only sounds that made it past your lips were moans, curses, and cries of his name. You were so close, and almost gave into the feeling even after denying yourself for so long, but he pulled away. 

The loss of contact had you shivering and yearning for him even more, but he didn't make you wait for long, quickly pulling his shirt over his head and pushing his pants and underwear out of the way.

He was back on top of you within seconds, and this time, you felt the head of his cock pushing against your waiting pussy. Finally, he filled you, pushing in all the way, leaving you unable to breathe, let alone speak. 

Despite fucking you more days than not, you still didn't get used to his size. He always filled you up so perfectly. The heat and weight of him above you stole any rationality from your mind, intoxicated by the feeling of him surrounding you, and deep inside you. 

When you squirmed, moving your hips against him, he knew you were ready, and started rolling his hips. It was lazy, slow and deep, taking his time to feel you, to enjoy you, in his tired state. One of his hands moved to the headboard, holding on to push himself even deeper. Your hands could only grab desperately at his strong back, digging into the smooth skin. In that moment you were sure that this was the closest thing to heaven you could possibly feel.

When he started to pick up the pace, you almost screamed. You wouldn't have been surprised if your lip started bleeding from how hard you were biting it, attempting to hold in the sounds of pleasure he was forcing out of you. It was too much, too fast, and you knew that this time, there was no way you could keep yourself from cumming before him. You were already so close, and he was still only getting started. 

“Don't hold back, let me hear you.” 

Against your better judgment, or any judgment really with how gone you were, you obliged, now moaning freely. His name fell from your lips over and over, begging him to keep going, despite the tightening feeling in your stomach. That very feeling, that you had been pushing away with him for months. 

Baekhyun too could tell the difference in how you reacted to his touch. This time there was no underlying tension, no restraint on your end. Not anymore, at least. When his hips started rolling faster, thrusting deeper, and harder, you moaned his name unabashedly. You needed all of him, and he was happy to provide. 

The second you started to fall, throbbing pussy clenching tightly onto his length, he was done for. The moan he let out almost sounded pained as he finally felt you let go, cumming on his cock. 

For you, it was earth shattering. The orgasm was easily the best you'd ever had. Intense, long lasting, and just so fucking good. You knew that nobody else would ever be able to make you feel that way. It was him, and how long you'd held yourself back. When you finally, inevitably slipped, it was heavenly. 

“Y/n, baby.” Your eyes opened, still feeling the waves of the powerful orgasm washing over you as you met his eyes. “Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad.” 

You put your hands on either side of his face, bringing him closer. You saw the disbelief flash across his features before he started moving, and then he was kissing you. 

Neither one of you was able to hold back the sounds of pure bliss as your lips finally met. And for Baekhyun, it sent him headfirst into his own orgasm. 

His lips stayed glued to your own, even through the gasps and whines of your shared highs, and the gradual descent back to earth as the pleasure faded away. He tasted like home, lips soft but still full of need as they moved with yours. 

Finally, he had you the way he really, truly, wanted, and the real thing was so much more satisfying than any of his fantasies could've prepared him for. He didn't want to stop kissing you, but eventually you both needed a second to breathe, and the way you smiled back at him told him everything he needed to know. Finally, you were his.

Next Chapter

[astromechs]

can I get washing their hair for rebelcaptain? 🥺

fun fact, i received these two asks within about an hour of one another, so great minds really do think alike. anyway, since the other two were heavier, went with something really, really stupid for this one 💕 from this list; still accepting! (and this is now also available on ao3, just like the other fills)

“He does this on purpose,” Jyn grumbles, because she’s too fucking furious for more than a grumble. Well, that and she can’t exactly manage anything else in her current position, head tipped with water-soaked hair obscuring most of her field of vision, palm pressed flat against the shower wall to keep her steady after having to remain like that for so long, but her point still stands.

Could anyone really blame her for being furious? She knows fucking intent when she sees it. There’s no way that a droid with a self-professed “specialty” of strategic analysis hadn’t mapped out what her route around base would likely be today, and there’s no way that he hadn’t been ready with a whole fucking vat of oil in his stupid fucking mechanical hands to drop it over her at just the right fucking moment.

It’d been completely uncalled for, too. So what if she’d cut the power to Kay’s favorite docking port last week and forced him to spend an entire night cycle trapped next to that astromech he hates so much? That had hardly been worth this much torture — and she’ll probably never be able to wear that shirt or vest ever again; they’d practically had to be sliced off of her.

No, there’s a difference between justified retaliation and crossing a line, and Kay had passed that line by a fucking parsec, so he’s the one who’s clearly in the wrong here. That’s her position, and she’s sticking to it.

It’s a position that any reasonable person with sense would agree to, so it’s one that Cassian, logically, will.

But when the hands that have been messaging her scalp still and his response comes, it isn’t an agreement. No, instead, it’s, “He doesn’t mean it,” said in the tone she absolutely hates the most: the one that’s mildly neutral, that comes with the mask he puts on when she knows he doesn’t want to engage with something.

Fuck. For a brief amount of time, she’d actually managed to forget that the person who’s been standing in the shower with her for the past standard hour at least, helping her wash her hair, is the one who’d be the least fucking objective possible on this issue.

If she could turn around, she’d raise an eyebrow and give Cassian her best are you fucking kidding me stare, but since she can’t, she resigns herself to heaving a long, frustrated sigh, one she makes sure can be heard over the running water.

He doesn’t respond for a while, opting instead to continue with his task of rubbing another round of shampoo into her hair. If he were doing this for any other reason, it might feel nice — part of her has been halfway to thinking it at least three times over the past standard hour before she’s stopped herself, because even with the difficulty of what he he’s had to work with, he’s never been too harsh with his touch — but he’s not here for those reasons, and so his silence is annoying. HIs silence leaves her no choice except to try for the sigh again, and really mean it this time.

Eventually, after that, he speaks up again, with a sigh that’s almost as heavy as hers. “I’ll tell him to call it off.”

Finally. Had that been so fucking hard?

To her credit, and she really tries for this, she does her best to leave out that sentiment when she tells him:  “That’s all I’m asking —”

“ — If you also call it off.”

Seriously? Her first instinct is to roll her eyes, which she does, and then her next is to open her mouth for a counterargument, which she also does, only nothing comes out of it. Because maybe, just maybe, she can concede that she’d crossed a line, too, and had provoked something that hadn’t really been worth provoking. It’s just been so quiet, and when things are too quiet, she turns twitchy and restless, and —

She can swallow her pride, even if it means doing so while gritting her teeth.

“Fine.” She guesses she should probably sound less like she’s gritting her teeth, though, so before she elaborates, she takes a beat. “I’ll leave his stupid docking port alone. Will that make him happy?”

Pressed against her, she can feel Cassian lift one shoulder in a shrug. “Happy enough.”

Because she knows him, Jyn can tell, just from his voice, that the beginnings of that stupid smug smirk he likes to flash at her sometimes are there, forming.

Only the shower wall will see, but she scrunches her face and glowers at it with everything she has.

“Fuck you,” she says, though, despite her efforts, she doesn’t manage to inject any real heat into it. “I heard that.”

“Heard what?”

She thinks: she should be annoyed; she should curl her free hand into a fist so that it’ll be ready to give him a nice, solid punch when her position allows. But the thought is gone almost as soon as it surfaces, because — suddenly, in spite of everything, a laugh bursts out of her. A genuine, full-bodied laugh that has her hand shaking against the wall while still trying to hold flat for support, her side stitching, and her breath wheezing.

Behind her, she can hear Cassian joining in earnest, his composure crumbling alongside his current attempt to massage her scalp. His laugh is softer than hers, still trying to find its footing after what has to be years of rust, but it’s undeniable.

Understandably undeniable, because this whole situation really is fucking absurd, isn’t it?

They don’t get many moments like this, but even so, they’ve had more of them together than Jyn can remember having for most of her life before they’d ever met — and it’s a good feeling when they happen. Warm, easy. Safe. The last of the tension she’d been carrying washes away with the water.

And after her laughter subsides and she’s blinked the tears from her eyes, she closes them, relaxing, for the moment, into what she can.

[clangenrising]

Month 5 - Greenleaf

Oddstripe let out a deep breath as she slunk out of the nursery. The dusk air was hot and dry, the scent of grass and dust carrying down on the gentle breeze. It felt good to stretch her legs again, to step away from the kits for a moment. She loved them so desperately, but if she had to help them make dirt one more time that day she was going to become a hollow husk. 

Thankfully, Songdust had offered to take over for her for the night.

Oddstripe slipped over to the prey pile and picked out a mouse to eat, scarfing it down greedily off to the side of camp. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was till the blood touched her tongue. As she was finishing up her meal, she spotted Sagetooth padding in from the grassland, holding a bundle of roots in her jaws. Ears perking, Oddstripe jumped to her feet and disposed of the bones, and quickly headed into the Healers’ den.

Sagetooth looked up as she entered and smiled slightly. “Oddstripe,” she said. “Glad to see you out and about.” 

“Glad to be out and about,” she purred in reply. “I’m sorry I haven’t been more help around here. I had no idea how much work raising kittens would be.” 

Sagetooth flicked her tail dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ve been taking care of the Clan on my own for some time, I’ll manage for a few more weeks.” 

“Oh, that’s good,” Oddstripe sighed gratefully, sitting down nearby. She watched as Sagetooth stripped the roots of little hairs and brushed the dirt off as best she could. 

“Pretty soon,” continued Sagetooth, “The kits will be up on their paws and you can start weaning them off of milk and onto food.” 

“Thank goodness,” chuckled Oddstripe. The two fell silent for a beat as Sagetooth cleaned the last of the roots and tucked them into the stores. It was interesting to watch her work. The cat who had taught her had cleaned roots in exactly the same way. It almost gave Oddstripe a sense of deja vu. 

Sagetooth broke the silence. “So, I’m guessing you’ve got someone watching them for the night?” 

“Oh, yes,” Oddstripe nodded dutifully. “If you need any help, I’d be happy to lend a paw.” 

Sagetooth shook her head and stood up. “No, I think everything is handled here, but I do have something in mind. A lesson, if you will.” 

“Oh, alright!” Oddstripe stood with her. “I’m always happy to learn.” 

“Good,” Sagetooth nodded, “That will serve you well.” She led the way out of the den and up out of the camp as the sun started to set. Oddstripe was content to follow quietly as they headed up the slopes and the sky turned purple above them. Sagetooth finally sat down at the crest of one hill and curled her tail over her paws. Oddstripe sat down, glancing curiously around the grass to see if she could spot the subject of their lesson. 

Sagetooth smiled and asked, “Oddstripe, how much have you heard about StarClan?”

“Oh,” Oddstripe brightened, tilting her head thoughtfully, “not much! I think you’ve mentioned them a few times. I hear cats thank them sometimes? They’re… one of your neighbors?” 

Sagetooth shook her head. “Our ancestors. They speak to us in omens and dreams and guide our pawsteps in this world. When we die, we join them in their hunting grounds among the stars.” She raised a paw and gestured to the flecks of light starting to appear among the clouds. Oddstripe looked up in awe.

“Really?” she asked, “Like, not metaphorically?” 

“Yes,” chuckled Sagetooth, “I’m not using metaphor. I’ve been there, walked across the Silverpelt with my own two paws and spoken to cats long dead.” She met Oddstripe’s gaze evenly. “And you will too. As Clan Healers, we travel every Half Moon to speak with the other Healers and converse with StarClan. If you’re feeling up to it, you’re welcome to come with me to the next one tomorrow night.” 

“Oh, wow!” marveled Oddstripe. “That’s so kind.” 

“Maybe,” shrugged Sagetooth, “but it’s not just a fun excursion. This is a duty. It is our job as Healers to be a spiritual bridge for our Clanmates. StarClan holds the wisdom of ages past and we are their voices in the living world.”

“Oh, my…” Oddstripe felt a bit dizzy. That was quite a lot of responsibility and she still couldn’t seem to fathom the enormity of what this wisened Healer had just revealed to her. Could it be true? The dead walk among the stars and they want to speak to her? 

“It’s a lot, I know,” Sagetooth said, laying her tail against Oddstripe’s side. “But I’ll be there with you every step of the way. If you ever start to worry or doubt, you’re welcome to come to me, alright?” 

Oddstripe nodded and dipped her head shyly. “Thank you, that means a lot to me.”

“Why don’t we start with you asking any questions you may have and we can go from there,” said Sagetooth, and Oddstripe thought good and hard. She wanted to make the most of this generous opportunity.

[n0irrrr]

REISS MENTAL ASYLUM / 14

【 shingeki no kyojin / mental asylum – alternative universe, modern setting 】 『male!yandere!various x male!prettyboy!reader』 summary: Finally! You have been given an opportunity to work at Reiss Mental Asylum- your job hunting hasn’t been great, so to hear you got an opportunity made you excited. At the beginning everything seems normal- but without noticing, some people began to get obsessed with you. warnings/tags: DARK/HEAVY THEMES. Non-consensual themes; sexual assault, touching, drug use, rape attempt. Home invasion, yanderes, obsessive behavior, murder, blood, explicit content, sexual thoughts. Somnophilia at the end! masterlist

notes: someday i will rewrite this whole cringe thing and feel better about it, LOL. but i hope there's enjoyement in this chapter.

１３

「lazy afternoons」

“Yes, Porco, I’m okay.” [name] chuckled softly. “I will stay over a friend’s house, so there’s no need to worry about me.”

Porco snorted loudly, obviously making fun of his lie. [name] pouted at such reaction. “A friend’s house? Exactly who? You have no friends, you loser."

”H—Hey! I do have friends!!” He felt childish, and he could tell Porco was having fun by proving him he was a lonely loser. “I have many!!”

”Really? Haven’t seen you go out a single day without the same fucking guy.”

"They are just... secretive. AND busy!"

"Busy... of course." Porco's tone changed, but [name] couldn't put more attention thanks to his migraine. "If everything goes well here, we'll have a talk, you and me. It's important."

"That sounds serious... is something going on?"

"Just... take care of yourself in that disgusting place, man. Tell Victor—"

"Vincent!"

"Whatever his fucking name is, to stay with you. With what you told me, I..." Porco couldn't continue. [name] heard some grunts on the other line— was he embarrassed?

[name] grinned. "I care about you too, Porco."

"Shut up. I'm hanging up." [name] could tell he was flustered, but silenced his laugh.

"See you soon!"

"Lock your doors and windows."

"Will do."

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

After the call ended, [Name] let out a grunt. He hid his head within his covers as he remembered Mike’s words about him getting sick. The man was a witch—or maybe a wizard? Either way, he was right. Or at least, his nose told him the future, somehow.

[Name] hadn’t felt dandy when he got to his apartment the night before. He knew getting out of the car by himself wasn’t possible, and Levi, knowing this, helped him as he did before.

He had a bad stomachache and an urge to throw up again; but thought a good night's rest was enough to wake him up and make him feel better. Unfortunately, the moment his alarm interrupted his sleep, he felt the worst way possible.

He also had a fever. He was 100% sure. The cushion was already disgustingly wet from his sweat, along with his pillow, but his sudden weak body didn’t let him get up. Not even when he felt the need to puke. So poor [Name] had to stay put and try to calm himself if he didn’t want to make a disgusting mess in his room. He didn't know how much time had passed since then.

Even if his whole body felt weak and disgusting, [Name] tried to get out of bed to go to the bathroom. Yet, the moment he got up, he almost fell— if it weren’t for his nightstand, his face would have been kissing the floor, with blood being a plus. It was then that he accepted his defeat and called Margaret to notify her of his absence. She had replied, saying she had been waiting for his call since Mike mentioned his condition yesterday. The poor sick just sighed, thanked her, apologized, and hung up.

He was ready for another bad sleep when the phone on the nightstand rang. His eyes couldn’t identify the caller since his vision was a bit blurry, but answered blindly. The moment the voice in the other line spoke, [Name] miraculously surpassed an embarrassing yelp from coming out.

“[Name], it’s Erwin. Good morning, first of all. I’ve been notified of your absence for today. Is everything alright?”

“O—Oh, uhm, y—yes! Ah—! Sorry, good morning!” It was obvious [Name] wasn’t in the right mind. He couldn’t think clearly, and his head felt like it was burning. His words slurred a bit.  “I just got a bit of a fever— nothing I can’t handle, heheee…” What a fast man Erwin was— did he call him the moment Margaret notified him?

”Is that so? How are you feeling?”

”Everything is good! I’m fffine, really!”

There was a moment of silence on the other line, making [Name] a bit anxious. Was he angry? Upset? Did the think this was a lie?

“I see. Also, don’t worry about today’s schedule. Everything’s covered, alright?”

“O—Ok… and, uhm… sorry about today… I didn’t meaan to get sick…”

[Name] heard a chuckle from the other line. ”Don’t worry about that, [Name]. It’s not your fault— something like that can be rearranged when you feel better, so don’t overthink it.”

After saying goodbye, [Name] let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding.

The silence filling his room let his mind wander about the frightening man. He had felt the intense gaze on him everywhere he went. The sick male wanted to believe something else but a feeling of desire filled those blue eyes. The thought only caused him to grip the bedsheets harder, his face feeling warmer and his thoughts messy. He wanted to turn a blind eye to it, but it was too obvious. The man was bold!

But… would it be wrong, though? To accept the date fully? At the moment, it felt like an obligation—a must. [Name] didn’t feel particularly happy about such a thing. Neither when Zeke wanted to use him to do such dirty play to Erwin. Now, it didn’t feel that bad; it was just embarrassing. He laughed light-headedly as he pictured Erwin on a date with him—maybe eating strawberry cake? or just chuckling at whatever they were talking about…

The imaginary moment lulled him slowly, blinking lazily at the ceiling. Maybe a good sleep in another place would make him feel better…

But a knock on his door interrupted him, startling him. The sound only made him grunt— he didn’t want to get up… but he did nevertheless. Of course, as his mind wasn’t in the right state, he took his blanket with drawings of frogs with him. He breathed heavily as he tried not to stumble too much. When he got to the entrance, he opened the door right away while his mind ignored how Porco scolded him about how he had to look into the peephole first before answering the door. Living in this godforsaken apartment was dangerous; serial killers would love to pick a stupid victim here, he said.

He blinked lazily, not really recognizing who he was staring at. Until he abruptly stood straight with a yelp, realizing it was Levi at his door, looking as happy as ever. [Name] couldn’t be more embarrassed by how he looked right now: a blanket with cartoony frogs on it, his oversize T-shirt with his favorite cartoon, and his shorts. His hair was a mess, his face was warm, and his eyes fought to stay closed— it was more to say that his bruises were on display too.

Levi, amused by the display, raised a brow. “It looks like nose man was right.”

Still, [Name] didn't know what else to say. He stood there, dumbfounded.

“Are you making me stay here all day or what? Have some manners.” The ravenette spoke in irritation, but with no malice. After all, it was known by now that his scolding was just for fun. Well... sometimes. This was enough to wake [name] up from his embarrassing episode. He quickly opened the door with incoherent mumbling and stood aside, letting Levi inside.

He felt dizzy; what he said sounded more as if he was barely keeping it together. “I—I didn’t expect you here!” He cringed at his own wording, trying to save himself: “I mean, I don’t mean you can’t come in! It’s just that I— Weeell—”

“I didn’t expect myself here either, but since we all know you don’t know a thing about self-care, here I am." The ravenette spoke sternly, his eyes narrowing into a sharp critical gaze as he observed the apartment.

“Buuuut… There was no neeeed…” The amount of talking made him even dizzier, as he stumbled backwards a little bit. Levi just raised a brow, expecting another lie.

“Stop being stubborn and sit down.” The ravenette placed some plastic bags on the table and emptied it. He took out a canned soup, and [Name] could smell fresh vegetables from the other bag.

He stared dumbfoundedly at the contents, then at Levi, then at the bags, then at the man again. The ravenette stared him back and spoke as if he was talking with an idiot: “You don’t have anything in your fridge.”

[Name] stayed in silence, processing the words from him. Then, he stood straight as he stared in embarrassment, eyebrows furrowing. “How do you know that?!”

“Because that’s you.”

[Name] didn’t know if to take that as an offense, so he avoided the ravenette’s gaze and looked defeated.

Levi didn’t care, it seemed, since he changed the subject. “What have you been doing before I got here?”

“Hmn… nothing…?” [Name] sighed and blinked lazily. “I wanted to take a shower, since I’m all sweaty… but I didn’t have any energy, and I thought I would feeell—”

“Oh, you will,” Levi stated, while crossing his arm as he tried to think, “you will get that shower. You look like a pig.”

“You are meaaaaan…” it wasn’t as if [Name] was in his right mind anyway to think of what he said, “I’m going to fall… I can’t go… and I feel sick,” he tightened the froggy bedsheets around him even more— he just wanted to fall asleep again.

“No.” Levi spoke sternly, harshly taking the cover off of [Name], causing him to gasp. “You will get that shower, so better get up and show me where the bathroom is before I take the sink to shower you.”

The ravenette took [Name] from the back of his shirt, forcing him to stand up. [Name] couldn’t help but comply, secretly glad he didn’t have to walk alone anymore as he guided Levi to the bathroom. It could seem like a careless action or touch by Levi, but he was sure [Name] wouldn’t fall even if he tripped, since the grip on his collar was strong enough.

He just didn’t want to touch sweat.

Levi was a bit grateful the bathroom was in decent shape after seeing such living room. It was small, with some corners and part of the sink and bathtub colored in oxidation thanks to the time. The mirror had some marks on it, along with the flooring having some ruptures. In Levi's mind, he couldn't stop repeating how horrible this place was. Or rather, how disgusting this whole building was.

He ordered [name] to steady himself with the sink while he filled the bathtub with not-too-warm water. Complying with a soft okay—! [name] allowed Levi to work, a little embarrassed when he noticed Levi’s narrowed eyes glaring at how slowly the water came in. If he was bothered or irritated, he didn't voice it, nor did [name].

In whatever silence they were in, Levi broke it off with a blunt order as he returned to his spot beside [name], taking his collar again. "Take your clothes off."

"U—Uh..?! That's sooo straightforward!!" raising his voice, [name] could feel his face getting warmer. "I—I can't do that in front of youu...!"

"Then should I throw you fully clothed in the water? Or should I undress you myself?"

[Name] felt a little bit of dread at the thought of Levi letting go of him. If he did, [name] didn't trust himself to remain standing.

"O-Okay, okay! Just... please turn around," he said his request with as much gentleness as he could have, eyeing Levi with a pleading look. The ravenette frowned as he stared at the sick idiot for a couple of seconds with cryptic eyes before giving in. Sighing in relief, [name] used Levi's shoulders to steady himself as he undressed clumsily. A few times [name] tightened his grasp on Levi's when tripping with his own clothes, only noticing his strength when the ravenette grunted or let out a remark.

"D—Don't turn around yet! Just... step backwards a little bit, pleease..." Carefully, [name] stepped inside the bathtub with a hum as his skin met the tepid water. It was just then, with water just under his chest as he hugged his legs, that he realized how hot he was. He involuntarily sank his whole body into the water, humming at the now-comforting temperature. He quickly retreated to his original stance when he remembered Levi was waiting for him. "...okay, you can turn around..."

"Finally." Levi took a small stool that was behind the sink and placed it beside the bathtub, sitting down. He rolled up his sleeves and took the shampoo, placing some on his hands. "Close your eyes," he commanded before rubbing the shampoo on [name]'s head, massaging the scalp.

It was actually relaxing on [name]'s part. He thought Levi would be rougher, but his hands were gentle. He could hear himself let out a content hum while his shoulders eased and he rested his chin on his knees.

“Bend over a bit.” Levi asked in a gentle tone this time, taking the soap. Just when [Name] obeyed and Levi was ready to lather him up, he noticed a lengthy burn scar on [Name]’s back, more so on the left side. It didn’t look… severe per se— boiled water, perhaps? Levi could tell fire didn’t cause it.

Whoever it was or whatever caused it, Levi continued to bathe [Name] with other thoughts in mind. It seemed the idiot had forgotten, since he didn’t say a thing about his silence.

“Sorry you haave to do aaall of this, Levi…” [Name]’s voice cut his dark thoughts off. “I’m very sorryyy,”

This time, it was Levi who sighed. “I told you yesterday, didn’t I, idiot? If I don’t do it myself, I will be in a bad mood all fucking day. And I have enough with those shitty glasses at work.”

[Name] giggled, “a mooore of bad mood?”

“Don’t get smart with me.” Levi warned him, but he didn’t sound hostile.

[name] talked about everything and anything. He looked content even if Levi gave hums or half answers when being asked something. At some point, [name]'s voice got lower and lower, until he fell silent. The ravenette was unsure if he had fallen asleep, but seeing his shoulders go up and down slowly made him sure.

Just seeing him like this, in this godforsaken place, rotting away... made him feel something he didn't want to say out loud. He just felt irritation.

[name] seemed asleep. Before waking him up, Levi gently caressed the scar on his back and wondered the reason for this act of dominance. Confusion, or perhaps anger, danced in his mind—not exactly for the scar per se.

He retreated his touch and got up, speaking louder to wake [name] up.

"Oi. Wake up. You can't sleep yet." As he took a towel, he signaled him to stand up to dry his body. He noticed how groggily the [hair color]-haired stood up, with eyes closing every two seconds and not even complaining about being seen naked this time. Levi quickly wrapped [name]'s body without much of a glance. His arm went around [name]'s waist to guide him out of the bathroom and to his room, as [name] vaguely told him where it was.

Surprisingly, his room wasn't a mess. Everything seemed in order and clean, to Levi's somehow relief. Levi asked him for clean clothes as he helped [name] sit down on his bed, but [name] was unable to answer because of his sleepy state. The ravenette grunted as he snapped his fingers in front of [name]'s face, making him jump in surprise and barely waking him up.

"Clothes... Ah! Right there, Levi." The ravenette opened the wardrobe and took the first thing he saw, which was another oversized T-shirt with, this time, a picture of a fat cat, and a pair of shorts. He couldn't stop himself from raising his brows in amusement at such choice of designs, almost wanting to make a remark about it. Yet, it wouldn't be as rewarding to see [name]'s groggy state acting stupid like his normal self. He threw the shirt over [name]'s head, the sick completely out of it to even complain about it.

Levi crossed his arms. "Answer—should I dress you or are you capable?"

"Mhm...? Oh, yeah... I caan..." [name] yawned, lazily taking the shirt. Levi had never seen such clumsiness before as he observed how the idiot missed the biggest entrance for his head to one of the arm’s. And then he looked pretty content about being trapped in the smallest hole, as if he had done a splendid job.

“You look stupid.” That was the only statement Levi could spit out before helping him with the t-shirt. His next objective was the shorts, but [Name] seemed to quickly snap out of his dazed and quickly stutter slurred words Levi couldn’t understand, but could decipher by [Name]’s stupid, embarrassed expression. As always, he asked him to turn around.

“You need to eat.” Levi stated as [Name] finished, turning to him once again.

“I want to sleep, Levi.” The sick idiot tried to lay down on the bed, but Levi’s grip on his shirt stopped him.

“Before that, you will eat.”

“But I’m sleepy…” [Name] tried to ‘charm’ Levi by blinking and staring pathetically. The ravenette narrowed his eyes.

It didn’t work. “But I don’t care. Get up.”

All of this felt like Levi was taking care of a child. Or perhaps a cat. A clumsy, useless cat whose life was only to destroy things and be a nuisance.

[Name] complied. Although this time he didn’t try to not be an annoyance, because his body felt heavier and his words didn’t make sense. Levi knew he needed sleep, but he couldn’t let him, still. Or he just didn’t want to. He couldn’t deny that painful, tired face made him feel better.

He instructed [Name] to patiently wait on the couch, since at least he had some mercy on him and didn’t let him wait on the chair while Levi chopped some vegetables for the food.

The sounds of the old TV and the low snores from [Name]’s filled the room, leaving Levi in a barely peaceful moment.

As he put the ingredients into the pot where he had filled it with the soup, he went to sit on the chair while observing [Name], who waited for the food to be ready.

The idiot stayed asleep, with no care or worry about who was with him. Has anyone broken in? Levi wondered.

The lock looked cheap and easy to break, but Levi instantly knew this idiot would open the door before looking, even if he was in his sane mind. A strong lock or a fancier building wouldn’t change that.

If Erwin hadn't taken a liking to him, where would he be? Dead inside a dumpster, maybe. Or perhaps in a job barely making the minimum wage. Or suffering under someone’s orders. Well, it wasn’t as if his situation was any better, in such a filthy place. Erwin had his reasons to hire him, but he didn't share them. What he couldn't hide from Levi was the acts of devotion he had for the assistant; how his blue eyes stared with such... affection? No. Erwin wasn't like that. Something vicoius hide beside that caring-boss facade. 

Speaking of that, who was this guy? Levi felt even more disgusted by the place as he took another look around. This whole building was rotting. Either way, Levi could observe [name]’s attempt to ‘hide’ the mess—pictures. One with him and friends? Perhaps family; a younger [name] with a dog; another picture of him, a guy looking irritated with a black-haired girl... Pretty ordinary pictures.

There were a few small plants, too. A book on the table beside the couch; keys hanging on the wall—were those small paintings? Levi could distinguish between what seemed to be the ocean and a sunset; in another painting, there were frogs in a pod.

[Name] was just like he imagined: a mundane person that he wouldn't usually take an interest in. How could he? This clumsy guy was easy to control, easy to overpower, had naive ideas, was dense... Then why this sudden attention? To someone so insignificant? He could understand Erwin's motives and even that four-eyes son of a bitch, but not his own. Levi found this irritable.

Maybe he liked to imagine how he would tangle his fingers between [name]'s hair, seeing his expression of satisfaction only for him to pull and see that face of being hurt: that pout, teary eyes, that slight frown meaning that he's going to cry... Or just harshly grab that jaw to hear him squeak once he takes his hand away to see the marks he made on that pretty face.

That face…

Levi narrowed his eyes.

That stupid face.

The reminder of the food interrupted his nightmarish thoughts. He went to check and realized it was ready. Without any permission, he took a bowl from the drawers—which didn’t have much—which, particularly, was blue with painted sheep. Levi couldn’t really believe how childish this guy was—hmn? Was that a mug with painted cats…?

Levi served the food. Even when he made lots of noise, the sick idiot didn't even move. The caretaker got in front of him and stared him down—[name] looked exhausted. His expression wasn't a comfortable one*; his body looked tense, and he was sweating.

He looked disgusting.

“Wake up.” Levi grabbed the front of his shirt with no gentleness.

[Name] barely woke up groggily, with his eyes barely opening and closing. From his mouth came words with no meaning, not even pying attention for the man.

Levi made him sit down while he ignored his pleas for him to stop. “Food’s ready. Wake the hell up.”

“Buuuut… I’m asleep…”

“Now you’re not. Get up.” [name] resisted. Levi gritted his teeth, and in his eyes reflected an anger that made [name] shiver. “Get the fuck up, or I’ll punch you until you die.”

“Ok, Okay! I’mm uup—!” Even with slurred words and a weak mind, he knew Levi didn’t make jokes. The thought of Levi acting like a beast made him gulp.

“Huh…” [name] looked at the table, and then at the couch. “Can I eat on the couch…? I don’t want to sit down…”

Levi tightened the grip on his collar. The sounds from the TV weren’t helping his temper much, since an annoying money TV game was on and fueled Levi’s annoyance with him.

The caretaker only pulled him forcibly. “No. You will sit like a civilized, mannered person, not like a pig. You will make a mess if you lay down.”

[name] didn’t dare say anything else. He sat down, like a good boy, and looked at his food. It looked good, actually. The nice aroma reminded him of the hunger in his stomach, as it immediately growled. [name] took the spoon, ready to eat it all.

But, just as expected, [Name] was unable to even feed himself accordingly. His sloppy movements, thanks to his sudden sleepiness, made him unable to hold the spoon properly, messing up the table and dirtying his face. Levi grunted, disgusted once again and more annoyed.

With a harsh move, he took the spoon from [Name]’s shaky hand, surprising him with it. But before Levi could feed him himself, he took a napkin and, with not much gentleness, cleaned [Name]’s face. Whimpers and soft complaints left [Name], but they went to deaf ears. Just as Levi finished, he clicked his tongue at his own exasperation.

“Open your mouth. I will feed you like the child you are.” Levi harshly took [name]'s jaw while he guided the spoon to his mouth. [Name] felt ashamed at first, desperately staring anywhere but Levi's eyes. The ravenette didn't like [name]'s childish behavior, as his grip on his jaw tightened. [name] jumped, opening his mouth with teary eyes. "Why don't you just obey? Always doing what you should not be doing." Levi's never softened his grip, perhaps as a punishment for being disobedient.

This kept going in silence until [name] felt full. A gentle touch on the hand with which Levi gripped his jaw was enough for his caretaker to abruptly stop and glare at him directly. [name]’s body tensed. "I'm—I'm full..." The stare he got was enough to make him shiver. Why were there times when he could speak to Levi normally, but in times like this, Levi unnerved him?

It didn't help when he stared like that. And the way he silently got up, took his bowl, and began doing the dishes didn’t help at all. Was he angry? Did he do something wrong?

Well, whatever. He felt sleepy again. The food had helped him feel comfortable, in some way.

“Dhankss for the food, Levaa…” His eyelids felt heavy.

A grunt was the only answer. [name] slowly began to drift away, dreams taking his mind. His arms rested on the table, letting his face rest on them. The soft silence from the dishwasher lulled him.

This time, Levi didn't say anything else. Instead, he knew he felt a hand caress his hair before shaking his shoulder, but he could be wrong, after all.

“You are asleep already.” Levi’s soft voice sounded far away, even if he was next to him. His strong arm wrapped around his waist, guiding him to the bathroom again.

[name] couldn't open his eyes anymore. His body felt automatic—he just felt Levi’s hands on his mouth, brushing his teeth gently. Did he dream all of this, actually?

He didn’t even remember walking to his bed, but he was already under the covers. Levi’s hand rested on his forehead, and [name] could barely see his usual frown. The sick idiot couldn't help but close his eyes again, but once he opened them again, something cold was resting on his forehead.

Levi said something, but [name] didn't understand.

“That feelss goood…” [name] smiled contently. He chuckled softly. “You are a great nurse, Mr. Levi.”

Levi didn’t like that, since he flicked a finger on [name]’s forehead. [Name] whined, the eyes of betrayal stared at Levi’s face, who glared back. [Name] pouted.

“Not nice…”

“I’m not nice.” Levi changed the cloth to a colder one, by [name]’s relief.

“You are.” He closed his eyes again.

“Not.”

“Just rough sometimes. But you are nice.”

Levi didn’t answer, but it was enough for [name] to look content. A frown formed on Levi’s face while he sat down beside [name]. He took the mug off the nightstand, which [name] didn’t even notice, and waited for the sick idiot to react. “Take a sip.”

“What’s…?”

“Ginger tea. Take. A. Sip.”

[name] chuckled like an idiot while Levi helped him sit down. Levi’s hand on his back and how he helped him take small sips brought him some type of comfort. The feeling of being taken care of was… nice, even if he knew Levi didn’t like the whole idea. Any other type of comfort in his life was Porco; he would be lying if he didn’t feel happy having someone so… caring and trustworthy around him. Knowing he was away made him sad.

“I… don’t waant mooore.”

Levi stopped without much to say, and left the mug in its previous place. He told [name] not to lay down since he could feel like vomiting again. He changed the cloth again before his hand stayed on his forehead to not let the cloth fall down. [name] opened his eyes tiredly to admire Levi. Well, what else could he do?

Levi sure was a handsome man. Or did he confess that to himself because he was not in his right mind? Well, he didn’t admit that out loud…

He felt lightminded; perhaps that’s why he felt bolder to say things.

“You are scary sometimes.” Even though the statement wasn’t a positive thing to say, [name] smiled like an idiot. “Veeeeery scary…”

Levi narrowed his eyes.

“Buut even scary, you look good!”

Levi didn’t react— not openly, at least. “And you look dumb, but that doesn’t give you any favors.”

[Name] chuckled. Levi helped him lay down again.

“I’m sleepy.”

Levi removed the cloth and rested his hand on [name]’s forehead to feel his temperature. [Name] hummed contently as he felt Levi’s cold fingers on his warm skin. Without much thought, he gently moved Levi’s fingers over his closed eyes. He felt more comfort.

“Migraine?” Levi asked.

“Hmn…” [Name] didn’t have more energy to give a detailed answer.

“I left pills on your nightstand.” Levi said, “Take some.”

“No… I’m… tired…” [name]’s eyelids felt heavier, and he couldn’t help closing them.

Levi didn’t like being contradicted, but he kept silent. Perhaps he was tired because of him, or just annoyed. He grunted but didn’t say further. The room fell into silence. Levi stared at [name]’s face, who rested quietly. As he saw nothing else bothering him, he got up and spoke loudly for [name] to hear. [name] opened his eyes tiredly when he got up from the bed.

"It's time for me to go, then." Levi was ready to leave, but he felt something pulling his hand before he began to walk away. He turned his head just to see [name] staring at him with pleading eyes, almost looking like a child scared of the dark.

"Nooo... don't leave me, please," he pleaded. "Stay with me..."

"I can't. Go to sleep."

"But, Levi, I'm scared of being alone... Please, just stay with me this time, pretty pretty please?"

Levi stared, again. With holding hands still, [name] blinked slowly with his long eyelashes, making his plea more "captivating.” Levi wanted to punch his face.

“No.”

“Pretty pleasse…” [name] tightened the grip on his hand.

Levi actually thought about it this time. Perhaps [name] was going to fall asleep, since he looked too tired. “Five minutes.” He answered before sitting down again in the same place, while ignoring how content and happy [name] stupidly looked. Silence filled the room again, but speaking wasn’t necessary for both of them this time.

After such peace, the phone rang. [Name] grunted at the interruption of his sleep, but quickly took the phone before missing the call. The frown that was plastered on his face changed to a soft smile as he answered. Levi narrowed his eyes at such change.

“Hi, Vincent.” [name] replied. “I’m good. Thank you for calling.”

What a good friend.

“It’s fine. Actually, Levi came to—”

Levi snitched the phone out of his hands. Vincent’s voice only fueled his irritation, as his worried questions were heard from the other line.

“What a nice, worried friend you are, Mr. Guard.”

Vincent didn’t answer at first. “Mr. Ackerman, good afternoon.”

Levi could notice Vincent’s change of tone. Well, the feeling was mutual.

“No need for such cute calls for your boyfriend.”

“If I’m worried about him, then I’ll call.”

Levi gritted his teeth. *“*How daring.”

Levi noticed Vincent was going to make a remark, but he shut himself up before spitting it. The ravenette smirked slightly. At least such guard knew who he was talking to. Due to the lack of an answer, Levi kept speaking.

“You asked, he answered. This is all you’ll get.”

Vincent seemed to rile himself up. "He doesn’t—” But Levi hung up before Vincent could finish. He slammed the phone with such force, that made [name] jump at the noise.

Levi stared knives at the phone, not paying attention to [name]’s stare.

“You don’t like Vincent.” [name] looked at him timidly, speaking softly. Levi did look furious at the call— but [name] was sure Vincent wasn’t the type of person to look for problems. What did make Levi so angry?

“Is that a problem for you?”

[name] frowned. It… wasn’t a problem, but he didn’t like seeing his friend— or confidant? being treated so harshly. He knew Levi could see that, but he knew how Levi acted. The people in the asylum could be really… spiteful. Either way, the reflective thoughts only soothed him—he was more than tired. Levi waited, but the question was left unanswered. Instead, it was met with soft snores coming from the idiot.

He had fallen asleep at last.

Levi glared at him—how could he be sleeping so comfortably with him in the room? Leci here, acting like a good guy only fueled his anger. There had to be a reward for this absurdity. He didn’t comprehend his own feelings—their meaning. After all, he hadn’t needed them in a long time, if ever. [name] made him repulsed by such foolish emotions.

How bitter you are.

[Name] didn’t mean to last in that place, but Erwin and four eyes sought any ways to protect him from all evil. Even so, they themselves were worse than the subjects. Levi laughed bitterly internally every time one of them couldn’t hide their desire to possess such a good-for-nothing assistant. He couldn’t understand wholly, but now he saw why. But ‘liking’ him? It wasn’t that. It was something else, but Levi still couldn’t comprehend. He should, soon enough.

Levi glanced at [name], waiting for the moment to move.

And, just when he noticed [Name] fell into a deep slumber, the devil returned.

Levi couldn't stop himself. There was just this urge.

Shifting his body slowly to not interrupt his companion's sleep, facing him. He stared at [name]'s body; how his chest moved according to his breathing, how his lips slightly opened as gentle, barely audible snores came out of his mouth—his long eyelashes, his relaxed, cute expression... only for him to see.

Levi's hand slowly moves under [name]'s shirt, gently caressing his warm stomach. He moved his touch on [name]'s waist this time, grabbing and squeezing part of the flesh not too harshly. The ravenette waited for a response, but just as he was met with silence, he continued his secret exploration in quietness. This time, he rested his head on the crock of [name]'s neck, smelling his scent. His hand explored the flesh a bit more daringly, slowly crawling his way to reach [name]'s chest, the tips of his fingers exploring the flesh cautiously.

This time [name] whimpered softly, his body shivering for one second. The ravenette waited for any other reaction or complaint, but [name] remained in his slumber with a troubled expression adorning his face.

Levi smirked.

What a reward.

[l-pandamatic-l]

Dee x Fem! Reader (Metal Family)

So this will be re-written for my OC if you wanna check that out instead of this, because honestly, my x reader skills aren’t too good. ANYWAYS You basically are a little sweetheart honors student and you hide the fact that you’re a HUGE metal fan. That is, until you invite lif over to your house to hang out and she brings Dee along, he sees your room and almost immediately, he starts to realize that maybe you aren’t the awfully boring person he thought you were.

It was getting late, and you wondered why Lif hadn’t shown up yet. You two were supposed to chill and watch some horror movies together and make fun of how fake it looked, but it wouldn’t be as fun without her there. You decided to change anyways, pulling on a pair of black shorts that just barely hit your mid-thigh, and an old Metallica shirt that didn’t exactly smell the best. But it was your favorite, so you pulled it on over your head, the too-big sleeves sliding down your shoulders. You just barely sat down when somebody knocked.

“Finally,” You huffed pulling the door open as you blew the hair out of your face, “I have only been waiting for half an hour, Lif. Where were y-“

You stopped dead, face starting to burn as you saw your classmate, Dee, and his little brother standing at the door. Heavy grinned and giggled as his brother turned to him with a glare, mumbling something you couldn’t quite hear. You pulled lif by the arm, into your house and groaned.

“Lif, what the hell!?”

She just smiled innocently and shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, Dee wanted to hang out and walk me home but when I said I had plans with a friend, Heavy insisted that they tag along.”

You sighed and put on an obviously forced and painful smile as you opened the door again, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You didn’t quite notice Dee’s eyes wandering as you invited him and his brother inside, or the way he stuttered when you asked him what he’d like to drink.

For another ten minutes or so, Heavy continued to entertain you with his stories as Lif and Dee struggled to get the TV working again. Your stepdad had a bit of an episode before work that morning and you couldn’t tell what was wrong out of the shard of glass that hit the wires, or the beer that covered the TV, either way, Dee seemed very determined to figure it out.

“What are you doing, you dumbass?” Lif hissed in a low whisper, shoving his shoulder. He grimaced slightly and sighed in frustration.

“Currently, I am trying to fix a very old television covered in beer and glass.”

“Smart Alec,” she huffed, hitting the button on the side of the Tv, and cheered when it started to hum loudly.

You turned, Heavy following your gaze as you both smiled widely. Then, you realized you hadn’t picked the movie yet. That was Lif’s job usually. You pointed towards your room, hoping she’d get the memo to grab one so the boys didn’t go in, but her face was pale (well, more than usual) as she pointed in horror at a spot beside you.

You looked down and audibly gasped as you saw that Heavy wasn’t there. You looked around in terror before you suddenly heard his loud voice coming from the end of the hallway. Your room.

“No way! Dee you gotta see this!” He said, rushing out of the room, holding a pair of drumsticks, painted black with little white X’s all over it.

You scrambled to grab them as you shook your head. “No, no, no! Heavy!” You groaned, snatching them away from him as he grinned and raced back into your room. You followed suit, and started chasing him around, constantly yelling, “Don’t touch that!” and, “No, Heavy! Put it down!”

Finally, Lif decided to pop in and usher Heavy out of the room, but Dee being curious, had decided to step inside. But it wasn’t exactly what he expected.

Images of Twisted Sister and Metallica lined the walls. A signed Black Sabbath poster was framed over your bed. You had dark gray walls and even black carpet over your hardwood floor. The drumset in the corner was pristine, with a big, (Fav color) skull painted on the front with your Initials underneath. A display case on the other side of the room, holding all your vintage metal records and drumstick collection was pristine and sparkling.

Dee’s eyes widened as he looked around, gaze landing in you in the end, face slightly pink.

“uhm, Y/N, this is… unexpected of you.” He said, shaking his head slightly as his condescending smirk graced his face again.

You stuttered and stumbled before Lif and Heavy started to laugh. Lif pointed to you, almost doubled over as she giggled, “You didn’t even last an hour before they figured it out! You totally suck at keeping this thing on the down-low!” She laughed hysterically.

You sat on your beanbag with a sigh, holding your head in your hand as you shrugged, Lif and Dee sitting on your bed while Heavy sat on the floor by you.

Dee spoke first, smiling slightly. “So, the perfect Y/N, honors student and Straight-As girl for three years running is a metal fan with a love for the drums. Who knew.” He said, trying hard not to laugh in front of you and Lif. Heavy tugged on your sleeve as he pouted.

“Pleeeeeeease can I play on the drumset? I promise I’ll be careful!” He pleaded, grinning when you nodded as he raced to grab a pair of your practice sticks, which were in a mallet bag hanging from the suspended cymbal’s stand.

Lif laughed as she waved her hand dismissively, smiling to herself. And Dee couldn’t seem to look around the room enough times, eyes constantly landing on you.

“Well,” You said, dejectedly, as Heavy started to hit the snare repeatedly with no consistent rhythm, “I really hope you won’t say anything to anyone else? It may not seem like a big deal but it’s really embarrassing for my parents. and me.

Dee nodded in solidarity as you sighed in relief. “Thanks…”

——————————

“Byeeeee, Y/NNN!” Heavy yelled Fromm the sidewalk, waving his hand rapidly in the air, making you smile. You wave goodbye as well, giving Lif a quick hug before turning to Dee, face turning pink.

“Well, um, bye Dee.” You said, anxiously. “Thanks for keeping all of… that to yourself.

Dee nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, you swiftly kissed his cheek and mumbled another “Thanks.” And “Bye” before rushing inside and shutting the door hurriedly. You leaned against the closed door and covered your face, sliding down until you hit the floor, face burning a bright red.

“What. The. Hell. Did I just do…”

Dee, outside, just stared, dumbfounded at the door before clearing his throat, and with a cocky smile, joined Lif and Heavy to walk back home.

—————————-

Sorry this is so short. Again, not the best at x readers. But I thought this would be a nice way to practice. Let me know how i did and what i can do better?