#can’t afford a single bedroom apartment on that.

[crowcryptid]

Got home at 7:30…… yippie..

I love traffic.

[itsthewritergal]

don't tell Bucky - B.Barnes x reader

Summary: Reader is broke and refuses to tell mob!bucky the extend of it

TW: fluff, happy ending, little swears, mention of money, getting fired, (think that's everything)

ENJOY!!

:)

Y/N was used to the biting cold in her apartment, it had been a long few months with her hours being cut down and bills piling up she was in debt. Badly. She had started cutting costs where possible, heating was the first to go, she had opted for  not turning the heating on despite the freezing temperatures outside, food was the second thing to go, she had starting making meals stretch and eating less and slowly things seemed a little more manageable. The bills continued to pile up, yet things seemed a little easier. Every single penny was put to the side to clear her debt. She had been seeing Bucky as much as possible but she couldn’t talk to him about it, he would just offer to pay her debt off and then she’d owe him for almost the rest of her life. She couldn’t ask him. She wouldn’t. Bucky had picked her up from work, it was a surprise, and something Y/N was grateful for as she wouldn’t have to pay for the bus home. 

“Do you want to stay at mine tonight?” Bucky asked gently pressing a kiss to her cheek as they finished their heavy make-out session in the car 

“I’ve got work in the morning,” She said softly, breath slipping through her lips 

“Call in sick” Bucky said between kisses “You can go without one shift can’t you?” Bucky asked 

“We’re short staffed Buck, I need to be there” She lied easily, 

“Let me come in? I just want to hold you tonight” He said softly pressing another kiss to her lips. Y/N nodded in agreement, how could she ever say no to an offer like that? 

Bucky followed Y/N up the stairs to her apartment, she unlocked the door and was met by an icy breeze. Bucky shuddered. 

“Why is it so cold baby? Your heating broken?” He asked 

“Hmm?” Y/N asked turning around to face him 

“Your apartment Y/N, it’s cold” 

“Oh, sorry Buck I turned the heating off” 

“For good?” Bucky asked closing the door behind him “Or is it broken?” He asked

“Oh, no I just turned it off whilst I was at work” Y/N said softly, 

“Why would you do that?” Bucky asked again pulling Y/N into an embrace 

“It was just while I went to work Buck”

“That’s not safe doll, you should keep the heating on so you don’t get ill, even when you’re not home. You need to come into a warm house” Bucky said, Y/N resisted the urge to cry. 

“I usually do Bucky, it was just a one off” she said. 

Bucky didn’t mention the heating again that night. Y/N was grateful for that small mercy. What he did mention was the mountain of blankets that sat on her bed. 

“Doll?” He called from her bedroom 

“Yeah?” She replied coming into the bedroom, her eyes falling on Bucky’s metal hand clasping three blankets, 

“You coming down with something?” He asked “I can call Banner to come and check on you if you want?” 

“Oh Buck, no I’m ok. Just get cold when you’re not here” She said, it wasn’t a complete lie, just a small one. It made her feel a little better. 

“You know you could just move in with me?” Bucky offered 

“Don’t be silly Bucky, we’ve spoken about this” She said and Bucky stopped himself from starting an argument by pressing his lips to hers. 

— — — 

The next few weeks were tricky. Y/N had started picking up more shifts than she could count which lessened her time to do anything; most of all see Bucky. 

When one fateful day put Y/N’s life into a tailspin, 

“Y/N could you come into my office when you get a moment please?” Her boss’s voice cut through the noise, and Y/N felt a panic run through her body, 

“I’ll come now” She said quickly, hurrying behind the shorter lady, “is everything ok?” 

“Take a seat Y/N” She said, Y/N knew this wasn’t good, she never asked her to take a seat before, this had got to be bad news. 

“Have I done something wrong?” 

“No, Y/N you’re one of the best workers we have here” She said taking a deep breath “but we can’t afford to keep you on, with prices and wages going up we’re cutting down to less staff members and well it’s only fair that we let you go first. You’ve got enough experience to get another job quickly whereas the others don’t” 

“You mean the others are cheaper because they are younger?” Y/N said noticing the true meaning behind her words. 

“That isn’t what we are doing Y/N” her boss spoke halfheartedly 

“When do I leave?” Y/N asked dejectedly, knowing it was a loosing battle 

“Today’s your last shift, you are let go without holiday pay or leave notice” She said passing Y/N an envelope “All the necessary documents are in here, please hand your keys in at the end of the shift” 

“No need to wait” Y/N said, pulling her work keys out her bag and putting them on the desk. Picking up the envelope, Y/N walked out. 

The walk home was a cold one, not only because of the biting wind but Y/N felt empty, numb, like she’d just been caught in the rain. She wanted to call Bucky, but after her neglect of him she knew that he was probably mad at her and calling him to cry would not be the best way to go. However, her ringtone cut Y/N’s moping thoughts short, 

“Hello?” 

“Doll, oh thank god. Steve just told me he passed you on the street, he’s turning around to pick you up so don’t go anywhere. What’s happened?” Bucky asked 

“Nothing Buck, I’ll talk to you later, tell Steve not to worry” 

“No, he’s picking you up and you can come here or go home then come here, or just head home if that’s what you want but I’d rather Steve did it than you walk yourself doll okay?” He said 

“It’s going to happened whatever I say right?” Y/N chuckled halfheartedly, the lack of reply on Bucky’s end confirmed it “I’ll wait for Steve” 

“Good girl, I’ll see you soon” He said ending the call quickly. 

As if on cue Steve’s car pulled into view, 

“Hey Y/N, Buck’s waiting for you” He said opening the door for her, 

“Thanks Steve” 

After a few quiet minutes Y/N answered the question which was burning in Steve's mind, 

“I got fired” She said quietly, 

“They did what? Oh Buck won’t be happy, how dare they” Steve said forcefully, 

“They can’t afford me apparently” Y/N chuckled sadly 

“Bullshit” 

“Promise you won’t tell Bucky?” She asked 

“I won’t lie to him if he asks” Steve said “But I’ll divert attention so he doesn’t ask” Steve agreed quietly 

— — — — — 

Y/N had avoided Bucky for another two weeks, she hadn’t meant to. But she had been sending CV’s, babysitting, dog walking and selling small handmade bits online. Anything possible to make some money, she was yet to receive an interview or even any interest. It seemed that everyone was full of employees or was hiring younger staff, there was no place for Y/N. 

She had been dodging her landlord phone calls, and the electricity company and even a few others who she knew were angry that she hadn’t paid. Stretching her legs out wide on the floor she took a minute away from her laptop screen and picked up her phone. 

“I’m on my way, be there in 15” Bucky had texted around 15 minutes ago, Y/N let out a panicked sigh and started picking up the mess around her to try and make herself look presentable for Bucky, she had to keep up appearances. 

“Doll?” Bucky called through her apartment, 

“In here” She replied quickly shoving some dirty clothes at the bottom of her wardrobe, 

“Hey doll” He said softly pulling her in for a kiss, not seeming to notice her dishevelled state. 

“Hey Bucky” she pressed a kiss to his lips, something she had missed dearly. 

“I need to talk to you” Bucky said pulling her down to sit on the bed, she sat down with his hands gripped in hers as if he was about to disappear. 

“I know I’ve been awful Buck, I haven’t spoken to you and I’ve avoided you, please don’t be mad, I’ve just been so stressed and—”

Bucky quickly cut her off “I’m not breaking up with you Y/N” 

“You’re not?” 

“No, doll I’m not” 

“Oh” 

“I know what’s going on Y/N” he said sincerely 

“Nothing’s going on” 

“Doll I know” 

“Bucky nothing is going on”

“You got fired, you’ve been trying to find another job, you’ve been dog walking, which I’m not happy with because that’s dangerous when you don’t know the dog or the owner, and you’ve been selling your adorably little crochet animals online” Bucky said 

“You got someone to follow me” 

“You started shutting me out” Bucky justified 

“Fair enough” 

“Did I miss anything?” Bucky asked 

“No” Y/N said her eyes welling up with tears, she let go on Bucky’s hand to hide her face in them, 

“Oh doll, come here” Bucky said wrapping his arms around her, letting her cry all her stresses and troubles away onto his shirt, he knew once she had cried they would be able to talk through options properly. 

“I’m sorry” Y/N said with a sniffle 

“Can I finish what I was saying earlier?” Bucky asked, Y/N nodded silently “I’ve paid off all your debts, I did the landlord, electricity, water and that loan you took out, you can pay me back if you want to if you have the money, if not it’s my birthday present to you I know you won’t accept it any other way” He said 

“Bucky please”

“It’s already done” 

“I should be able to do this better,I  should be able to pay my fucking bills” 

“No” Bucky said calmly 

“No?” 

“No you’re not doing that. You are doing as best as you can. And I refuse to listen to that shit. Now put on a nice dress, we’re going out to eat” 

— — — — 

That night when Bucky and Y/N were laying in bed cuddled up to each other, Y/N decided to be brave 

“Bucky?” 

“Yes doll?” 

“Do you think I could move in with you?” She asked pressing a kiss to his chest “I don’t think I want to do this alone anymore” 

“Doll, I’d be delighted” 

[crguang]

wasted with longing

You and Kafka have a simple, superficial relationship that benefits you both. You should have known that nothing is ever simple when she’s involved.

friends with benefits, smut, afab!reader, gp!kafka, vaginal penetration, blowjob, dom!kafka, 4.5k words

A/N: fuckboy kafka is real and we should all be running… towards her🤣 this will be a series! i’ll fine tune it when i wake up but this is for my very excited anons and mutuals <3

part two

this is the collective playlist, i’m still adding songs as i go: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4fNHJsbeJLC49Fa8ACVOwW?si=pgaCSUzVTgmXZ8OuQJWLKA&pi=u-9uwba0QiQlWH

You push open the door to your apartment with a tired sigh and step inside. Freeing your feet from the new boots you bought days before feels heavenly, you’re still breaking them in and the process is almost torturous, often leaving you sore by the evening. You put on the slippers you discarded that morning as you shrug off your jacket, placing it back into the tiny closet near the front door. The lights are off but you don’t bother turning them on, instead, you make a beeline for your bedroom and flick that switch on. It’s late, around 11 PM, and you’re itching for a shower before collapsing into bed after spending the afternoon on your feet. You open the window a crack to let the breeze in, seeing as the summer nights tend to leave you sweating. You discard some of your clothing on the way to the bathroom, holding onto them to throw them in the laundry basket next to the sink. Standing in your underwear, you turn on the shower and adjust its settings to room temperature before removing your clothes. You’re grateful for the peaceful moment when you step into the shower, simply letting the water hit your face and soak your body.

Today was particularly challenging; your boss was a jerk your whole shift, more demanding than usual, and you’d promised some friends that you would go out with them after work even though you just wanted to be home by then. Forcing yourself to socialize is mentally taxing and often leaves you with a headache at the end of the night, too. Under the refreshing water, you feel the knots of your muscles loosen slowly as if smoothed out by warm, gentle hands. Your head tilts towards the shower head. For a few minutes, you wash away the weight of the day, focusing on the pitter-patter in your ears deafening you to all but your thoughts. An impulsive one passes by, meant to be fleeting but it solidifies in your head until you can’t help but entertain the idea.

You wonder what Kafka is doing, if she’d come running if you called the way she often does once the sun sets. She’s been busy lately, you think; you haven’t heard from her in around two weeks and you’ve been too preoccupied with work to bother checking on her. You don’t know what she does for a living, only that your palms brush against new cuts across her skin every once in a while. The acknowledgment of their presence goes unsaid like many other things, locked in a messy closet to which you both hold the key yet refuse to organize. Still, she’s skilled in the ways of your body and works you out like no one else can, so you ignore a lot about her to prioritize how relaxed you feel after a couple of hours with her. Some parts of you, your heart and fingertips, twitch to understand her absences and inconsistencies. You try not to dwell on that confusing desire for too long lest you come to a conclusion you don’t like. Kafka’s enigmatic, she’s mysterious and rehearsed as to always keep the upper hand in whatever war she’s implicated in like the world is an open minefield and she can’t afford a single misstep. Every semblance of genuine conversation about her turns into a game she has to win and you’re getting tired of playing along. However… you have to admit that you could use the distraction tonight.

The thought doesn’t leave you as you finish washing yourself and step out of the shower with a clean towel around your frame. You look for your phone once in the bedroom, picking it up from where it was discarded on your dresser, then sit at the edge of your bed. It takes a bit of scrolling through your recent conversations to find Kafka’s contact. You refrain yourself from rolling your eyes at the last texts you’ve exchanged. She can’t be relied on for your impromptu needs and you wish the opposite was true as well, but you’ve learned to make yourself available whenever she seeks you out. It’s pathetic, you tell yourself, even as your thumbs hover over the screen’s keyboard. You recline on the mattress with a sigh and hold your phone above you, wondering if you should do this. It’s late, and though that’s usually when you see each other, Kafka has the habit of not replying until hours later. It’s irritating, especially when you scroll up to her last messages and notice how quickly you always answer them. You toss your phone on the bed and cover your face with your hands. You swallow a scream.

“Embarrassing, embarrassing,” you mutter to yourself, “no dignity at all.”

As you question your life choices and consider blocking Kafka’s number to make yourself feel more in control than you are, your phone buzzes with a notification. You turn on your stomach to pick it up, tapping open the screen.

You stare at the most recent text for almost a full minute before closing the device and sitting up straight. The coincidence of her messaging you while you’re debating whether you should text her first leaves you reeling for a moment. You hesitate, fiddling with the phone in your hands. You want to leave her waiting like she often does to you, but… Excitement creeps up your spine at the thought of seeing her. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Why not take what you need from her and send her on her way? This is what she’s good for, it’s how she regards you as well, so you give in to your impulses and craft the perfect text. Kafka’s reply comes almost instantly.

You can’t deny the flutter in your gut but you sure as hell can ignore it.

You make sure to be ready before Kafka comes knocking at your door. You lather yourself with your favourite lotion before pulling a tank top over your head and putting on pyjama shorts. You clean up around your apartment even if she never lingers long enough to get a good look at it, picking up dirty laundry and clearing the dishes. You don’t see the minutes tick by as you do your best to seem presentable. You check your teeth in the bathroom mirror, decide to brush them because you don’t have any mint, then tap your cheeks a couple of times, tilting your chin this way and that. You’re looking at your nails, wondering if you should clip them since they’re getting a bit long, when the doorbell rings.

You take measured steps towards the front door so as not to look too eager and shake your head at your antics. You turn the handle, revealing Kafka’s nonchalant expression on the other side of the door. She smiles at the sight of you, clad in her usual tight clothes and custom-made coat, and you have to suppress one from betraying your thoughts as you take her in. She does the same to you, gaze appreciatively raking over your figure before she even greets you. She still has makeup on, hiding the fatigue you know rests under her eyes, and she’s holding on to her pair of gloves instead of wearing them. You think she probably wrapped up whatever it is that she does and came to your apartment right afterwards.

You open the door wider and step to the side so she can come in. “You look tired.”

Kafka walks in and closes the door behind her with a foot. Her smile widens a touch, a self-assured edge to it. Her head tilts— you watch the loose strands of hair follow the movement— and her eyes drop to your chest for a deliberate second then lift to meet yours. “You look beautiful as ever.”

You don’t hide the annoyed roll of your eyes. You turn your back on her to lead her further into the apartment. She follows, slipping off her coat from her shoulders and discarding it on a sofa in the living room.

“You got rid of the painting?”

You look at where she stopped in front of the couch. She points to the far wall with her chin as she lays her gloves on top of her coat. You stand, dumbfounded. You used to have an abstract painting hung on that wall but stored it to install a TV instead. You’re mostly surprised she noticed; her lips are usually on yours instants after she’s stepped through the door.

“It’s here somewhere,” you gesture vaguely to the room.

“Mm… This coffee table’s different, too.”

“You broke the glass of the other one the last time you were here.”

Something in the way she glances at you, a cocky glint in her eyes, tells you she remembers.

“Right. What was it you said that night— ‘Don’t you dare stop?’”

You know Kafka revels in the flash of irritation that creases the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t remember that.”

“No?”

She makes her way to you, fingertips trailing on the back of the couch and amusement shining through her contacts, dusty pink swallowing the lilac at their edges, reminding you of carefully plucked calla lilies. Her slender fingers cup your jaw to tilt your chin, the nail of her index sliding across your skin, and you meet her stare with practiced ease. You hate how easily the anticipation of her touch heats the embers in your belly and you can’t stand knowing that she’s aware of her effect on you. Kafka brings you closer until all you care to see is the lustful, rosy shades of her irises. Her gaze lowers to the curves of your mouth.

“Need a reminder?” Her murmur is felt on your lips like the warm, inviting breeze wafting through the open windows.

You hook a finger under the waistband of her shorts and tug her forward. “Guess so.”

Her low chuckle is cut off by the kiss you plant on her lips. Kafka indulges your control over her, lets you back her up against the wall and pull her close with a hand around her neck. Her arm snakes around your waist, your body pressed to hers. She tastes sweet, like a sugary drink or a juicy fruit, and your tongue slips into her mouth to taste her fully. She welcomes it readily and allows it to swirl around hers before you feel her fingers curl around your throat. The pace shifts, hungry and hurried, as she effortlessly takes over the kiss, momentarily taking your breath away. You’re forced to follow her lead and exhale through your nose when she doesn’t release you. The hand on the back of her neck travels down her collarbone, pulling on the leather strap of her outfit so it slaps against her once you let go, and the hum that sounds from her throat softens your bones until you’re putty in her hands. Her shirt crumples in your grip while your fingertips tease the buttons of her shorts. Your world is reduced to the soft caress of her tongue in your mouth and the growing bulge beneath your palm.

Her hold on your neck relaxes slightly and you pull away enough to regulate your breathing. You stroke her over her clothes, drawing a sharp intake of breath from her. A pleased smile makes its way onto your face and your eyes blink open to stare at her swollen, peach lips.

“Someone’s happy to see me.”

Kafka traces the hollow of your throat with a rounded nail, smiling amusedly at your teasing tone. “Mmm.”

“Two weeks and a little kiss gets you worked up?”

“Were you counting?”

“Please. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” You unclasp the buttons of her shorts and pull them down her waist to reveal the band of her pantyhose, toying with it and sighing in faux exasperation. “I suppose I could help.”

“Yeah?”

Kafka stares at you, anticipation in the way her lips unconsciously part, and you retain her lustful gaze as you withdraw from her body to put your hair up using the hair tie on your wrist. You raise a playful eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, and her eyes narrow a touch at your cockiness. She doesn’t say a word, though, simply watches you lower yourself to your knees with that smile that says she’ll wipe that expression off your face soon enough. You start with her thigh-high boot, zipping it down to get it out of the way, then grip the edges of both her pantyhose and shorts to slide them off the rest of the way at once. Her layers annoy you on nights when your need is greater than your patience, but you enjoy teasing her like this; testing the elasticity of her boxers’ waistband, running the pads of your fingers over the thin fabric and along the thick of her bulge, pressing leisure, open-mouthed kisses on the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Kafka is a patient woman, her hand tangles in your hair but doesn’t pull. Her heavy stare makes you feel powerful despite being the one on your knees, she either doesn’t bother to hide her desire or she can’t— regardless, you’re her only way towards sweet release and she has no choice but to grant your petty wishes.

Your lips trace the outline of her length over her underwear. One hand cups her between her legs while the other kneads her plush thigh. You delight in the little hums Kafka doesn’t care to contain as you pepper kisses on her clothed cock, a thumb gently massaging her balls until you feel her twitch under your lips. Still, she doesn’t tell you to hurry along or pressure you in any way. Knowing that her cool demeanor is an act fuels the satisfaction in your gut. You pull at her boxers and free her hard cock, refraining from biting your lip at the sight of its prominent vein. You follow its pattern with your mouth and use a hand to curl around her base, eyes fluttering shut. You’ve done this so often, licked long stripes up to her tip and stroked her sensitive skin with teasing touches, that the feel of her against you is engraved in your gray matter. Your tongue swirls around her leaking tip to collect her pre-cum before taking her into your mouth. Kafka is so big you have to use your fingers to stroke what can’t fit past your lips. The weight of her cock on your tongue makes you so incredibly wet, you feel arousal trickling down your inner thigh. Her hips buck forward and her hand caresses your hair in a manner so fond you’d mistake her lust for care if you didn’t know any better. You work her up with quiet, muffled moans around her dick and she guides you down her length with one hand, unable to tear her eyes from your pretty face as you suck her off. You take as much of her as you can, feel the head brushing the back of your throat every few thrusts of her hips, and revel in the short, throaty moans spilling from Kafka’s lips.

“Mmhh… How pretty you look with your mouth full,” she manages to tease you in between low gasps, smugness dripping from her words. You give her sensitive tip a particularly harsh suck and bask in the uncontrolled jerk of her hips.

You look up at the crease between her brows and the rapid rise of her chest, her audible pants intoxicating you. With her head tilted to gaze down at you, strands of magenta hang in the air like threads of silk. You squeeze her base once to draw a longer moan from her. The taste of her bypasses your every thought, and you can only focus on her throbbing, wet cock filling your mouth. You stroke her with the same hungry pace, occasionally squeezing your thighs together to appease the heat between your legs. She’s so hard, so needy, you can’t help the indignant whine that escapes you when her fingers grip your hair and pull you away from her dick. A thin string of saliva connects her head to your tongue and breaks with the distance, falling onto your chin.

“Don’t pout, you’ll get your fill,” Kafka smiles despite her heavy breathing, urging you to stand with her hold on your head, “I’ll make sure of it.”

A tinge of irritation surges in your bloodstream at the cocky edge of her tone and the way your pussy aches for her touch. Her nose brushes yours once you’re on your feet, warm breath fanning over your lips. You hate that you want her, that your body responds to her by melting into hers as she steals the air in your lungs with a single heady kiss. You hate the way your thighs part almost immediately to allow her wandering hand better access to your cunt. You hate the amused chuckle that leaves her when she realizes you’re not wearing any underwear and rubs between your slit with a finger. And yet, you only get wetter under her ministrations, brows twisting with the pleasure she’s giving you. Her digit withdraws from your slick pussy, glimmering with your arousal, and Kafka stares at you with lidded eyes as she brings it to her lips to suck it clean. The wet sound of her mouth sends a jolt straight to your core. You need her to fuck you so badly, you can barely think before grasping the leather strap under her collarbones to pull her forward.

Your lips meet in a messy, heated kiss, her salty taste on your tongue and your slick on hers. You stumble down the hallway, losing pieces of clothing along the way, until you reach the bedroom and Kafka firmly pushes you down onto the bed with a hand on your bare chest. Her mouth is locked with yours and you feel her touch on your hips, across your waist, over your ribcage where your heart drums for her. Her thumb applies pressure on your erect nipple, drawing a needy sigh from you. You sneak around her chest to unclasp her bra and she assists you in sliding it off her arms to discard it on the floor. Her cock presses against your thigh while she teases your nipple between two fingers. You know you’re ruining the sheets beneath you but you can’t bring yourself to care; you get more desperate with every minute she’s not buried inside you, unable to contain the quiet whimpers that escape you.

“Kafka…” you breathe out in a whine, aware of how much it turns her on to hear her name out your lips. Her cock throbs on your thigh at the sound.

She plants kisses down your jaw and pinches your nipple a couple of times, the feeling delicious yet not enough. Her hum rumbles through her chest, “Mmm… Pleading already?”

Aeons, she’s infuriating. You wrap a leg around her waist and her length rests on your slit, but you bite the flesh of your cheek to keep in a breathy moan, not wanting to inflate her ego more than it already is. Kafka reaches down to rub her tip between your lower lips, almost groaning as your slick mixes with the saliva from your tongue. Your lungs stutter and you suck in a breath, nails digging into the expanse of her back. Her head grazes your aching clit, you arch further into her to repeat the action. It feels so good you forget all about who you’re dealing with until she speaks up again.

Kafka’s licks a broad stripe up your neck, then her mouth brushes the skin of your jaw on its way to your earlobe, pressing a kiss just below.

“You’re dripping…” Though her voice is close to your eardrums, you barely register the words she utters, lost in the pleasure of your clit sliding against the thick of her cock. “How much do you want this, mm?”

There’s a lick on the cartilage of your ear before she pulls away to look at you through the dull pink of her irises, eyelids heavy. The movement of her dick on your pussy comes to halt and it takes you losing that relieving friction to understand that she expects an answer.

“W-What?”

“Did you miss me this much?”

Your heel digs into her lower back to pull her closer, but her lips simply stretch into a knowing, teasing smile. She presses her tip against your twitching clit once, delighting in the flutter of her eyelashes and the beginnings of a needy moan that you refuse to let her hear.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply, but even you have to admit that your sentence lacks conviction or venom.

“Mm…” Kafka guides the tip of her cock to your gushing entrance and your next inhale gets caught in your throat. “Is it flattery if it’s true?”

“You w— Hah—!”

She pushes the head inside you, feeling you clench instinctively at the intrusion, and lets out a sigh of pleasure as your warm, tight cunt welcomes her cock. She watches a quiver go through your bottom lip and briefly bites her own. One hand digs into the plush of your love handle, the other sinks into the bedsheets next to your head. She slides another inch into you and your fingers tangle in her locks, tugging at the sensation of her length inside you, stretching you so well a breathless gasp spills from your mouth. Her smile is smug, pleased at your silence, and you swallow as you muster the strength to speak. Kafka leans closer, the tip of her nose against your cheek and her breath warming your skin. Slowly, she bottoms out completely and gives you a moment to adjust to the fullness. Something in the way her pants falter occasionally tells you that she needs that pause too. Her lips are on your jaw in a kiss way too soft, too gentle to be from her; her who means nothing to you aside from the pleasure she provides you.

“I missed you.”

You feel a buzzing sensation in your lower belly that has nothing to do with her cock nestled in your cunt. The words are murmured like a confession but you know they aren’t one, Kafka means to provoke you so that she can put you in your place, a game you’ve played since the day you met. You can’t explain why it’s as if your heartstrings are plucked and manipulated like those of an instrument, its melody disorganized and disharmonious. You don’t understand the sudden irritation that mixes with your arousal, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tug at her hair and her head follows the movement backwards, lips parting.

“I hate you,” you manage to utter through gritted teeth, and you’re frustrated to find that there’s no truth in what you’ve said.

Kafka’s growing grin turns mocking. “Aww. But you’re sucking me in…”

To prove her point, she withdraws from you just to thrust back in, her tip hitting that sensitive spot inside you. Her length rubs your walls with every thrust of her hips, rendering you speechless aside from the quiet whimpers that fall from your tongue, and your anger fades away, replaced by the desperate need to come. Your fingers messily swipe at your clit and your nails paint crescent moons on her back from how tightly you’re holding on to her body. Despite her own need, Kafka is determined to pull more lovely sounds from you. Her pace is tantalizingly slow but harsh in the way you prefer as she fills you to the brim. You feel her all around you, her lips on your jaw, the pads of her fingers sinking into your flesh, her cock buried deep inside your fluttering cunt. Her low moans and short groans hit your ears in sinful sounds that only make you wetter. Her breasts are flushed to yours, following the rocking of her hips.

“Fuck, fuck—“ you babble breathily, lost in the pleasure, “more…”

You don’t register Kafka manhandling you with an arm around your waist so that you’re straddling her lap instead, only that the change in position allows her to drive deeper into you. You moan brokenly as she grabs your hips and guides you down onto her cock in one go. Your thighs tremble, aching, and your orgasm is imminent. Kafka groans into your shoulder, bouncing you on her dick, the taut coil in her belly begging to snap. Your slick trickles down her length and your wet pussy swallows her cock, you clench around her like you dread she’ll pull out before you can come. She uses a palm to apply pressure on your lower stomach, feeling the faint outline of her bulge inside you, and the sensation pushes you over the edge. You cream on her cock with a cry. Your head tilts back and Kafka leans away from your shoulder to gaze at your cum drenching her girth. She knows how sensitive you get after an orgasm, can feel you twitch against her with the aftershocks, but she can’t help jerking her hips upwards to fuck your cum back into your pussy. She wants to see her own cum merge with yours until you’re so full of her that you’re gushing.

“Kafka—!” You gasp out, fingers gripping her loose ponytail, “W-Wait…”

She shushes you with an insistent kiss. She’s close, guiding your hips up and down her throbbing cock. With a particularly harsh thrust, that familiar coil in her stomach finally breaks and her cum spills into you in hot, intense spurts against your inner walls. It’s too much for you to handle even as her thrusts stutter, yet a second orgasm builds inside you, quick and desperate; your body moves on its own accord, further stimulating you and drawing a long, drawn out moan out of you. Kafka’s lips are parted and you miss the sheen in her eyes as she stares up at you unashamedly riding her until you come around her dick a second time.

You’re both coming down from your high some time later, your eyes are shut and the pace of your rising chest slows down enough for you to take deep breaths. Kafka is a comforting presence beside you on the bed, and like you do with many things, you ignore the warmth that is born from your chest and spreads across your torso. A welcomed kind of exhaustion creeps up on you, almost pulling you into a dream, but you hear Kafka move next to you so you turn your head to look at her. She’s fixing her hair, putting back locks of magenta into her ponytail. She feels your gaze on her and meets your eyes with a small smile. There’s that twitch of your heart and fingertips again at the sight of the soft glow of her sweaty skin under your bedroom lights.

“You look exhausted,” her tone lacks its usual teasing edge but you’re too tired to notice, “I’ll use the shower and lock behind me with the spare key. You should sleep. I’ll message you tomorrow.”

You don’t say anything to that. You stare at the ceiling as the shower is turned on in the background.

Kafka doesn’t text the next day.

[birdietrait]

✿ The Home Sweet Home Legacy Challenge ✿

Info ✿

view on google docs

Use the tag #HSHLegacy so I can see your posts!!

If there are any rules that you don’t vibe with, just skip over them!

Some of the rules are centered around gameplay and some are more story-based!

You don’t have to complete aspirations or max out careers if you don’t want to, unless it’s otherwise specified in the generation’s rules!

Play with any lifespan you prefer.

Read one generation ahead to get all of the information you need!

Mods are allowed and encouraged; especially ones that make the game more realistic. I’ve linked a couple mods in some generations that can add to the gameplay! 

If you have the more traits in cas mod, pick whatever extra traits you think would fit your sim!

Rules for the generations under the cut ✿

GENERATION ONE ✿

You were raised in the city by strict parents who pushed you to be the best student in school. Despite your ambitious nature you hated the fact that you had no autonomy or free time. When you became a young adult you packed up your belongings, your pet and your limited funds and you moved to the countryside. Your cottage is rundown and outdated…it’s going to take a lot of work (and money) to make it a home. You quickly realize you might not actually be cut out for this life, but you are too stubborn and proud to give up and move back in with your parents.

Traits: Squeamish, Ambitious, High Maintenance

Aspiration: Country Caretaker OR Freelance Botanist

Career: Start with a part time job and/or odd jobs until your sim ages up into an adult, then settle into a full time job of your choice. To make additional money, you can also sell harvestables from your garden or your farm animals (if you want to go down that route!)

Starting Out: Start in Henford-on-Bagley with your pet in a small, rundown cottage with 2-3 bedrooms. You can use money cheats at this point, but remember: small rundown cottage…don’t use those extra funds for nice appliances!! When your house is done, set your funds to 450.

Rules: 

Your lot must have the ‘simple living’ lot trait

Reach level 5 in: Handiness, Cooking and Gardening

Befriend a few locals

Meet and fall in love with an outdoorsy sim with a large tight knit family 

Spend every holiday with your partner’s family, and have a solid relationship with most (if not all) of them

Have 2 kids

Take a vacation for every sim’s birthday (if you can’t afford it, throw a birthday party on a public lot instead)

Renovate the cottage over time (get new appliances, wallpaper/flooring, etc.)

Optional Rules:

Play with the ‘off the grid’ lot trait

Max out Handiness, Cooking and/or Gardening

Make the sim’s parents and make them have a negative relationship 

GENERATION TWO ✿

You grew up in a small, quiet town. After hearing about your parent’s childhood in the city, you were inspired to give it a try. You say goodbye to your loving family and set out for San Myshuno. You find an apartment and a part time job, then you get a few roommates to help with the bills. When you are faced with an accidental pregnancy, your roommates rally in support.

Traits: Loyal, Creative, Slob

Aspiration: City Native OR Painter Extraordinaire

Career: Max out the Retail part time job before quitting and selling paintings full time

Starting Out: Move into an apartment in San Myshuno with 2-3 roommates (you can use the roommate feature but I recommend actually having them in the household!)

Rules:

Max the painting skill

Have Game Night, or something similar, once a week with your roomies

Have an accidental pregnancy after a one night stand (if your sim can’t become pregnant and the other sim can, move the baby into your household when they’re born!)

Raise your kid as a single parent (with the help of your roomies)

Once your child becomes a teen, move out into your own place (it could be in San Myshuno or another world)

Marry as an elder

Optional Rules: 

As an elder, marry the sim you had a one night stand with (that ultimately resulted in the birth of your child)

Become famous (because of your paintings)

GENERATION THREE ✿

Just as the expression goes, it took a village to raise you. You were a wild, rebellious child with a love for athletics. Even though you were surrounded by love as a kid (not just from your biological family, but from your parent’s roommates) you always wanted to have siblings. You end up marrying one of your childhood best friends and you settle down in a quiet neighborhood.

Traits: Family Oriented, Hot Headed, Athletic

Aspiration: Big Happy Family

Career: Athletic 

Starting Out: Move into a house in a world of your choice with your partner.

Rules:

Max the parenting skill and the athletic skill

Have 4 children

Reach the summit of Mt. Komorebi at some point in your life

Be a hands-on parent: play with your kids, build them a treehouse, throw birthday parties, be as involved as possible in their lives

Go through rough patches with your spouse due to your anger issues

Eventually decide to get a divorce after trying to make it work (or if you have RPO, you can opt for separation instead)

You and your ex-spouse must live on the same lot and continue to raise your kids together

Sleep in your workout shed in the backyard

Optional Rules:

Remarry your ex-spouse

Reach level 5 of the handiness skill

GENERATION FOUR ✿

Although you and your siblings were loved by your parents, the living situation after their divorce was not ideal. Because of that, you vowed to never get married. You head off to university immediately after graduation and start on your path toward success.

Traits: Ambitious, Noncommittal, Genius

Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy OR Academic

Career: Business OR Politics

Starting Out: Enroll in University and move into a dorm

Rules:

Max the research and debate skill, and the logic skill

Reach the top of your career

Get the best possible grades throughout your life

Have at least two romantic relationships at all times…you are never faithful to one sim

Have two kids with two different partners

(Hesitantly) become official with one of your flings and move in together

When your partner proposes, reject them and have them move out

Go on a post-breakup trip with your kids to Sulani

Rarely discipline your children. In fact, rarely interact with them

Optional Rules:

Never retire

Move at least three times

GENERATION FIVE ✿

Growing up, your parent was pretty distant and you never had a great relationship with them. They were always working, talking about work, or spending time with their significant others. One of your favorite memories of your childhood was your trip to Sulani. You and your sibling decide to move out together and live there permanently. It’s rough living in a new place with limited funds, but the two of you have some creative solutions.

Traits: Loyal, Bro, Kleptomaniac

Aspiration: Party Animal

Career: Criminal

Starting Out: Move into a small house in Sulani with your sibling. 

Rules: 

Max the charisma skill

Reach the top of your career

Earn money from the criminal career, stealing and pickpocketing 

Always maintain a close relationship with your sibling (who can also follow in your criminal footsteps, or work part time / odd jobs instead)

Throw parties regularly and pickpocket the whole time

Have a rivalry with another criminal that turns into love at some point 

Your sibling eventually moves out…and your partner moves in!

Have one child

Have a super tacky over the top wedding

Optional Rules:

 Max the mischief skill

(If you have this mod, you can pickpocket when your sim is younger! If you have Basemental you can also become a dealer to make money. If you have this mod, I recommend using the enemies to lovers interactions!)

And that’s all for now! I’m breaking this up into two parts, so the next five generations will be coming sometime (fairly) soon!

[suguruisms]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺 𝗳𝘂𝗻𝗱

pairing: bf!toji x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of choking, consensual unprotected sex, spanking, oral sex, hair pulling.

summary: toji can't afford to stay in a motel during a job, so he goes to stay with you for the night. but you didn't know he also didn't have money for a condom.

a/n: so this was very loosely inspired by an art by user yunonoai on x (twitter) - i subscribe to their patreon and it was posted in june where they had toji say he didn't have enough change for a condom and that really took me out and inspired me to bring me here! also send me an ask on who i should write for next!

 When it comes to you, Toji is insatiable. He can’t get enough of you, if it were up to him he’d make a career of being buried in your tight cunt every single day; feeling your pussy squeeze around his cock and milk him dry. The way your eyes roll back in your head as he fucks you, the way his large hand rests on your neck as he squeezes your throat, your breathy gasps and moans. If Toji didn’t need money (and need money badly) he’d just stay home and fuck you all day.

But he can’t. It’s been too long. It’s only been a few days, but for him? That’s just too long. He’s been busy with work, tracking his targets, and some gambling maybe. He needed a way to relieve stress if he couldn’t come home and take it out on you, so gambling is a close second. Winning that winning bet is a close second to feeling your pussy around his cock. He’ll take what he can get, Toji reasons. But his job was running cold. He was too broke to afford another night at a motel, so here he is, at your apartment.

“Toji!” you answer, a wide smile on your face.

“Y/n,” he says quietly and his hand slides to your cheek to walk you backward inside as he kisses you.

Toji always kisses with purpose. He has a defined goal when he kisses. Toji isn’t one to kiss leisurely, he isn’t a very touchy-feely person outside of more intimate matters or a grab on the hip out in public to keep you close. You know what’s on his mind from the second he backs you up against a wall. Your hands hold his hair as his lips move slowly against yours, deepening the kiss once his tongue prods inside your mouth. A soft sigh emits from your mouth and his hands slide to your waist to keep you up against the wall.

“Close the door,” you mumble in between kisses and Toji chuckles a little against your lips.

“Sorry babe,” he says.

He doesn’t pull away just yet to do as you ask. He’s taking what he wants first. He always takes what he wants before anything else. It’s the type of man he is. He rubs his tongue against yours as the kiss grows a little messier, more heated. His hand squeezes your breast over your shirt and only when you make a little moan does he pull away and smirk to himself. He shuts the door and looks you over. Blushing, catching your breath as your head tips back against the wall.

“Miss me or what?” He asks with a playful tone, making you roll your eyes.

“You already know the answer to that. I don’t need to stroke your ego,” you say and push yourself off the wall to walk back into the bedroom where you are folding some laundry on the bed.

You didn’t expect Toji back so early, but you didn’t need to ask to know that this job he took wasn’t going so well. You also don’t need to ask to know that he’s broke, but at least he’s spending time with you. He’s your boyfriend, but he hates labels, so he doesn’t use them. But you know he’s your boyfriend.

“I have something else you can stroke,” Toji says as he follows behind you and it prompts you to roll your eyes again.

You stand in front of the bed, his warm chest resting against your back as his hands start on your hips, moving up your waist, before squeezing and playing with your breasts. You bite your lip, holding back a soft noise as his fingers pull down your bra a little to pinch your nipples over your shirt.

“I missed you, baby, you and your pussy,” Toji says as he presses a kiss against the back of your ear, “let me have what I want.”

You never tell Toji no, sex is always so good with him. It’s just as much of a treat for you as it is for him. You move the clothes out of the way; you aren’t letting him fuck you on top of your clean clothes.

“Take what you want then,” you mumble.

Toji isn’t one to ask for permission twice. He turns you around and presses a deep kiss to your lips. It’s hungrier than the one he gave you upon walking in, needier. He isn’t as slow and neat about it this time. You can feel his hands slide underneath your shirt to touch your breasts again that are spilling out of the cups of your bra and he sighs softly, feeling your warm skin against his cool hands, making you shiver with a small sigh into his mouth.

Toji is the one to break the kiss and press a kiss against your neck, biting your skin and sucking against it. He relishes in the sound of your moan against his ear and it shows when he rolls your nipple between his fingers.

“Let me fuck your mouth,” Toji says, and he waits for a nod before he pushes you down on the bed, flat on your back.

His hands are quick to take off your shirt and jerk your bra down to rest on your midriff, and before he does anything, he licks over each nipple.

“Miss these,” he says more to himself, but it makes you sigh softly in pleasure and whimper softly when his teeth drag against your nipples.

Toji pulls your hair to keep you flat against the bed and he takes off his sweats and boxers, freeing his cock. It always makes your mouth water to see it. Long and girthy, there’s no curve to it, but it has such a pretty mushroom tip to it. Toji argues that your lips around it make it look prettier.

“Eyes on me,” he says, his voice a demand now. He got all the consent he needs, and he knows how you like to be treated in bed.

Your eyes meet his and he smiles, a smug smile. He always loves how obedient you are. “Good girl,” he says beneath his breath.

He grips the base of his cock and pumps it slowly as he straddles you; knees tucked underneath your armpits, making your hands rest on his thighs.

“Open, tongue out,” Toji says, and he watches as you open your mouth and lay your tongue flat. The smug smile doesn’t leave, tugging towards the left side against his lip scar.

He taps the tip of his dick against your tongue a few times, rubbing the pre-cum bead against your tongue, making him groan out softly at the sight of it sitting against your pink tongue. He pulls back a little, stroking himself slowly. His pre-cum tastes a little salty and sour, but it’s not bad. You don’t flinch at the taste of it.

“Swallow,” he commands and watches as you do as he asks. Your cheeks flush a soft pink as you stare up at him, and you open your mouth again to show that it’s gone. Your fingers squeeze his thighs and he hums in satisfaction.

“Good girl, now relax,” Toji says, and he guides his cock past your plush lips and into your mouth.

He groans. Your mouth is always so wet and warm. It doesn’t feel as good as your pussy, but it feels great to get him going. Toji’s cock always fills your mouth so nicely, it makes little tears prick to the corner of your eyes when he pushes his cock deeper into your mouth and hits the back of your throat. Spit always gets everywhere when he fucks your mouth, but he likes it messy, and you don’t seem to mind when you see the wild look in his eyes when he takes what he wants. You can smell his natural scent as he pushes his cock in, taste a bit of sweat from the day on his cock, but it tastes good. Toji always tastes good, and the weight of his cock in your mouth is always welcome.

His hands find your hair and he grabs it, lifting your head back and forth to move on his cock. Small grunts and groans leave his lips when the tip touches the back of your throat and you gag a little around it each time. He always starts slow, letting you get used to it and breathe through your nose. Your tongue presses against the shaft of his cock with every thrust into your mouth and it makes him groan.

He lays your head down now and adjusts himself so his hips fuck into your mouth. Your jaw slacks, making a wet noise from your throat as he fucks your mouth. Toji holds your hair to pin you there, but soon his hand finds a new position. One hand is around your neck, and the other is still in your hair. He squeezes your neck, making your throat tighten around his cock with each thrust, and he groans.

You whimper softly around his dick and it comes out muffled and whiney. Saliva slides down your lower lip and chin as he goes faster and hits the back of your throat with every single thrust. The only sounds coming from you were gags from his cock, heavy breaths coming from your nose, and soft whimpers that were quickly muffled by the wet noises of his dick in your mouth.

“Good girl, you always take my cock so fucking good,” Toji says breathily as he watches your eyes water, face flush, and how messy you look because of his cock. Toji groans as you tap his thighs quickly, needing air, and he slides his cock out of your mouth and releases your neck. Spit coats his cock as he holds it over your lips, letting you take deep breaths.

Your throat feels sore from how fast he was fucking your throat and hitting the back of your mouth every single time, but you love the feeling. You nod slowly and open your mouth again, even if it is feeling a little sore. Toji grins and rubs his tip against your red, swollen, puffy lips.

“Are you on birth control, baby?” He asks instead, making your eyebrows furrow.

“Yes?” You respond, your voice is hoarse, and it makes Toji chuckle.

He gets off of you and gently rolls you over to take off your bra in comparison to the rough, brutish way he was fucking your throat.

“Mind if I cum in you, then? Didn’t have change for a condom,” Toji asks as he moves down to your sweats and spreads your legs so his fingers can rub over your clothed pussy.

A moan emits from your lips when he touches you, but your face has a bright blush on your cheeks. The question would be comical if his cock wasn’t throbbing in front of you and he was rubbing your pussy. You can’t think if you have any condoms here, but birth control is fine. Besides, he’s always wanted to cum in you and you’re protected enough.

“Go ahead,” you say breathily.

Toji looks surprised when you agree. He expected more questions, making fun of him, something.

“You sure?” He asks, and his fingers rub a little firmer, directly where your clit is. His eyes watch your every reaction.

You giggle softly, seeing how confused he looks, and your hips rock against his hand.

“Yeah, fuck me. We can discuss budgeting for a condom fund after you make me cum,” you say with a little smile and you watch as he rolls his eyes, but a little smile grows on his lips at your jive.

Toji slides his hands now to pull off your sweats and panties. He sees your wet spot on your panties, and he knows prepping you won’t take too long. He just likes to see you beg for it. One finger rubs your entrance, feeling how wet you are. It always leaves Toji so impressed to feel how wet you can get for him. Your body writhes a little as your hips rock a little and you whine softly.

“Toji, you can just fuck me,” you whimper softly, your voice breathy and pleading.

He presses his finger inside, feeling your wet gummy walls as he pushes it into the knuckle. He curls his finger inside before slowly pumping it in and out of you.

“I don’t know, I don’t think you can take it,” Toji says nonchalantly, as if he’s not doing anything special, as if he’s not watching his finger slide in and out of your pussy.

You can feel his finger. It’s thick and long, and when he curls it inside intermittently in between slow lazy pumps, it makes a whimper leave your mouth.

“Don’t be a dick,” you manage out through a soft moan and Toji laughs, moving his other hand to give your clit a pinch and slaps it gently, making you yelp.

“Don’t be a brat, you know how to get what you want,” Toji replies with a cocky smug smile on his lips and you wish more than anything you could wipe that fucking look off his face but there’s something about it that always attracts you. He knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger.

You go to speak when you stutter out a moan once Toji pushes another finger inside you. You can feel his fingers pumping in and out of you, scissoring inside your pussy as he curls his fingers upwards to hit your g-spot. His fingers are in so deep his knuckles are wet from rubbing against your entrance. You just moan, pleadingly.

“Come on baby, use your words,” Toji taunts and he laughs a little as his other hand rests on your mound. His thumb rubs your clit in small circles, making you whimper.

“Please Toji, please fuck me,” you whimper out and look at him with a desperation in your eyes that makes Toji’s face light up.

On a normal day, Toji could have you begging and edging you for an orgasm, but he’s fiending for it too. “Good girl,” he says and pinches your clit again for good measure to make you yelp.

You flash him a glare as he flashes you a smug smile. Toji looks you over and he pats your hip. “All fours,” he says quietly.

You nod and roll over to your stomach. You push yourself up on your knees and elbows, arching your ass upwards towards him. Toji grins and spanks your ass, making you whimper and enjoy the faint sting that comes with it. He grips his cock and lines the tip up with your hole and slowly pushes in.

Your moan fills the room, your forehead drops down against the soft comforter and you whimper as your fingers grip the sheets as Toji grunts quietly and bottoms out inside you. His hands grip your hips as he pushes you back and forth slowly in time with his thrusts to make the thrusts go in deeper at his slow pace.

“I missed your pussy, baby,” Toji says under his breath. He moves one hand to your hair to yank your head back, making you whimper.

You can feel his girthy long cock in his slow, smooth, deep thrusts inside you. You can almost feel it in your stomach with how deep he goes. His pace starts to quicken, making you moan louder and your hands grip the bed sheets. The grip on your hair stings but feels so good as Toji moves faster, harder. You can hear his skin slapping against your ass repeatedly.

“Look at this pussy, taking me so fucking good, sucking me in,” Toji says in between heavy breaths, “fuck baby, your pussy was made for me,” Toji grunts.

He raises his other hand and spanks your ass before gripping it, making you let out a startled moan. It stings more than the last one, but in a pleasurable way. You whine softly, whimpering and moaning as your body takes every thrust Toji gives you. You’re never the one to talk during sex, but Toji doesn’t mind, he loves how your cunt squeezes around him when he says filthy things to you.

Toji bullies your G-spot relentlessly and he lets go of your hair to grip your hips, keeping the same fast brutal pace right against your G-spot. Your moans turn into cries of pleasure, and you can feel Toji’s grip tense on your hips as he fucks you and his hips start to sputter. He spanks your ass one more time and grips it with a deep thrust against your g-spot and you cry out Toji’s name.

Your body tenses and you cum with a loud high-pitched whine of Toji’s name. You feel your body sag against the bed as Toji fucks into you a few more times before he cums inside you. He groans low, and his cock jerks inside you as it fills up your cunt. Once Toji pulls out, he watches his seed fall against your pussy and down your thighs.

He guides you to lie down and presses a slow kiss to your lips, and when he pulls away you smile. You’re out of breath as you watch him grab a clean hand towel from the floor and wipe it between your legs and thighs.

“So about that condom fund,” you say breathlessly.

Toji flashes you a playful glare. “Don’t start.”

[betweenbreaths]

doctor's orders (WIP)

Fandom: Love and Deepspace

Characters: Zayne x Reader

Summary: Zayne is surprisingly obedient as a patient when it’s your turn to play doctor. 

Rating: E (M for this snippet though)

A/N: Posting this WIP first because I think it'll take me a while to write the full thing. :")

++++++

He’s terribly late. 

It’s almost midnight now, almost 12 hours past the time he was supposed to have you over at his place for lunch and a home movie date. He had already prepared everything perfectly, from the food, to the table setting, to the extra blankets on the couch (only because you liked to snuggle). And then you had arrived right on time, and everything was going perfectly.

That is, until his work phone rang and he received an alert that one of his patients had to undergo surgery immediately. 

You hadn’t looked fazed when he filled you in on the situation; after all, it was hardly the first time he had been whisked away from a date for unexpected work emergencies. You had told him before that you didn’t mind; saving lives came first and you’d have done the same if you were notified of wanderers in the area.

So he’d left promptly, promising to be back as soon as he could.

And now, twelve hours later, he has finally returned to the front door of his apartment, with a bouquet of flowers he’d picked up along the way as an apology. Zayne had texted you earlier to ask if you had already left, and you’d said that you would stay and wait for him, and that there was no hurry. 

He sees your shoes still neatly placed outside, and yet another pang of guilt hits him. He just hopes you’re not too upset. He’ll have to make it up to you somehow. 

As Zayne opens the door and steps in, he calls your name. 

Silence. No response. 

That… must be a bad sign. Either that, or you fell asleep somewhere. Certainly not in the living room, because there’s no trace of you other than the crumpled blankets and the remote control tossed to the corner of the couch. 

He shrugs off his coat, leaving it on one of the chairs by the dining table and peers around, wondering where you’d gone. Instinctively he heads straight towards his bedroom — you might be taking a nap there.

He knocks lightly on the closed door before opening it carefully, slowly, in case he wakes you. Then he hears you call his name. The tone in your voice isn’t one of anger or disappointment. 

In fact, it’s the opposite. You sound… mischievous, playful. Even a little naughty. 

Almost like you’d planned something completely unexpected for him, and you’d been waiting for him to come in, like a predator waiting for prey to fall into its trap. 

And when he steps in, Zayne all but forgets to breathe.

++++++

Leaving you alone in his apartment for twelve hours had left you with plenty of time to devise a surprise for your boyfriend. Your spark of inspiration came when you decided you’d do the poor man a favour and sort out his laundry for him since he can’t even afford the time to eat the lunch he’d so painstakingly prepared for that afternoon. 

And when you came across the freshly washed spare doctor’s coat in the pile of clean clothes, you were immediately drawn to it like a moth to a flame. You ran your fingers over the thick, wrinkled fabric, a smile playing on your lips when you think about how far he’s come in his career.

And when you put it on, the scent of detergent and warmth enveloping you, an idea so brilliant, so devious, popped into your head. 

After all, you’d already come over to his home already prepared with a new set of black lacy lingerie for him to tear off of you, and this coat would go perfectly with it. 

The look on Zayne’s face when he steps into his bedroom and his eyes fall on you is absolutely delightful. You see a myriad of emotions flicker in his eyes: confusion, surprise, bewilderment…

And then his gaze becomes hungry. Sinful. Heat pools in your centre as his gaze falls on your body, examining every single inch of you. You can already tell from his dilated pupils that in his mind, he’s ravaging you, kissing you senseless and tasting every drop of you, and god you can already anticipate how rough he’s going to be with you when you let him have his way. 

But first, you’re going to have some fun with this.

Zayne approaches the bed, each footstep almost echoing in your ears and mirroring your accelerating heartbeat and you prop yourself up on your elbows, clicking your tongue and shaking your head at the man. 

“You’re late for your appointment, Zayne. I’m almost off my shift now.” 

“I apologise. I was held up at work because of an emergency.” 

“I wish you would prioritise your health the way you do with your work.” 

Your lips curl into a knowing smile, and so does his, although his smile looks a little more defeated. 

“Using my words against me now?” 

“Maybe. But I don’t have time for small talk. I’m supposed to have a date with my boyfriend and he’s waiting for me at home, so let’s make this quick.” 

Zayne cocks an eyebrow but says nothing as you sit up and tap the empty spot next to you on the bed. 

“Lie down. We need to do a routine examination.” 

Surprisingly, Zayne does as he’s told without protest. You feel the bed dip with his weight when he sits down, and you swallow nervously when he stares at you up close, eyes darting down towards your lips and raking down your figure. His gaze is smouldering and you feel your cheeks warm as the corner of his lips turn up. 

“Like what you see?” you can’t resist the urge to ask. 

“It would be more appropriate to ask your boyfriend that, Doctor.” 

Right, right. 

You clear your throat, trying to get back into the roleplay. With Zayne now lying comfortably on the bed, you scooch over, placing your hand over his chest. 

“Checking for my pulse? Where’s your stethoscope?” 

You roll your eyes at him. “I don’t need one to know that your heart is racing right now. Do you feel uncomfortable? Any chest pains?” 

“Yes, it does hurt a little.” 

“Where?” You experimentally press on his left pec. “Here?” You shift your hand downward slightly. “Or here?” 

“No.” Zayne grabs your wrist then, and without warning, pulls you down with a hard tug. You lose your balance, falling straight towards him and you barely manage to stop yourself from giving him a headbutt when your left hand plants itself into the mattress right by his face. 

In this position, you’re now mere inches away from his lips, and his piercing gaze doesn’t leave your eyes as he re-positions your right hand on his chest. 

“Here.” You feel his strong heartbeat beneath your fingers, and the warmth of his breath fanning across your face. Just a little closer and you’ll be able to taste his lips and lose yourself in his passionate, fiery kisses. 

He’s clearly thinking the same thing as you, eyes falling to your parted lips. He sucks in a sharp breath when your tongue wets your lips — a habit of yours when you’re nervous. And then you feel his free hand come up to rest on the nape of your neck to pull you in, closer and closer to him. 

It’d be so tempting to just give up now, to let him have his way with you and to get that quality time and intimacy you’ve been craving all day now. In fact, you’ve been waiting a whole week for this, because lately Zayne has been too busy and today was the only day you could squeeze in a precious date with him. 

But that’s also the reason why you want to enjoy this to the fullest. After all, it’s not often that Zayne is so indulgent with you in bed. 

At the last second, you regain your senses and place your right hand over his mouth, putting an unceremonious halt to his attempt to kiss you. His lips graze the surface of your palm and that’s enough to make goosebumps rise on your arms. 

“If your chest hurts, let’s take a closer look, shall we? I’ll need you to take your shirt off.”

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Still An Ass

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: minor angst

Summary: All you want to do is lie in bed and watch movies on your day off, but your roommate goes and fucks it up. You’re pissed so he does the one thing he knows how to do well to apologize.

Squares Filled: spin the bottle (2023) for @lokibingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Two types of popcorn? Check. Full mini fridge by your bed? Check. More blankets than you need? Check. Small fairy lights hung on your walls? Check. You have everything you need for a successful movie night. You can’t afford a TV so you have to settle for your laptop to bring you entertainment, which you don’t mind. This is enough for you.

This is your first weekend off in a few months and all you want to do is put on trashy gushy movies and relax. Mandy, your coworker, has been off on maternity leave so you and the rest of your coworkers are doing what they can to help cover her shift, and as a massage therapist, you’ve been getting more clients than you thought you would. You love what you do and you love helping people relax, but it’s exhausting sometimes.

This is your first weekend off in months and your obnoxious roommate is having a party outside your bedroom. Your laptop’s volume can only go so loud, and it’s not enough to drown out the thumping bass and ear-splitting chatter. If you wanted a fucking party, you’d go out. You could put on closed captioning but this isn’t how you want to spend tonight because all you do is compromise with Loki.

Yes, you live with the infamous Loki. He’s known all over town for being an egotistical dick who loves parties. When you applied for the apartment, you didn't know you were going to be rooming with him. Your friend helped you move off her couch and secured you a spot at this apartment building, and she put a listing online for you to get a roommate since you knew you wouldn’t have been able to afford it on your own. She promised to take care of everything for you so when you walked inside one day, you didn’t expect to see Loki lounging around on the couch shirtless.

Now you’re subject to whatever kind of parties he throws in your apartment knowing you work all the time. You shut your laptop and get out of bed in annoyance. You slide on your fluffy bunny slippers and storm out of the room. You’re immediately hit with sweaty bodies pressed against the wall, pounding music, and the smell of marijuana. The amount of people in your apartment is starting to piss you off so you go in search of Loki who has the power to shut this down.

The living room is worse than the hallway. People are doing body shots off each other, there is a game of explicit Spin the Bottle happening in the corner, and everyone is dancing close enough to consider it grinding. This is a bad case of all your high school dances all rolled into one. Loki is lounging on the couch with two women on either side of him who are practically begging for his attention.

This little shit. He knows exactly what he’s doing. You’ve been with his roommate for almost a year. The walls are thin. You hear him and every single one of the dates that he deems good enough to bring home. This man definitely knows what he’s doing in the bedroom which only pisses you off more. You’re not getting any and here he is getting all the action without even trying. He turns to face the woman closest to you and cups her jaw. He pulls her close and kisses her with tongue and you have to peel your eyes off him before you go over to him and sock him in the jaw.

“Loki!”

Of course, he can’t hear you. He’s too busy shoving himself down her throat, pun intended. You grab a stray red solo cup and throw it as hard as you can at Loki’s head. He pulls away from the woman and winces in pain even though you know it didn’t hurt him.

“Ow, what the fuck?” His eyes slide over to you and they immediately light up. The fucker even has the audacity to smirk. “Hi, darling.”

“Do you really have to have a party here? I’ve worked my ass off this entire week and I just want silence. Can you please take this somewhere else?”

Loki grins lazily and sinks back into the couch. All you want to do is slap that fucking look off his face and strangle him.

“Loosen up, love. Have a drink.”

It pisses you off more how attractive he is. When this lease is up, you’re getting your own place since you’ve saved up some money to afford something on your own for a little bit.

“You’re an ass.”

You storm off back to your room and Loki can’t help but chuckle at your pink slippers and unbelievably short pajama bottoms. Any hope of you having a quiet night with your movies is gone. When you got back to your room, you didn’t even feel like watching anything, and all of your snacks went to waste. You tried going to bed but the party lasted until four in the morning.

It’s not a surprise that when you woke up the next day, the entire apartment was trashed. You step over the fallen bottles of alcohol, careful not to trip as you make your way to Loki’s bedroom. Thankfully, he’s alone but he is shirtless. You’re not blind, he is quite an attractive man. However, you’re so pissed at him that you don’t see how hot he is. All you see is a personal punching bag.

“Loki!” You walk over to him and slap his chest but he doesn’t budge. “Wake up!” Loki must have drank a lot more than usual because he’s not waking up. “Fuck you. You fucking owe me, you bastard.”

You leave his room and begin to clean your apartment from top to bottom. It took a few hours of hard work but you got the place looking sparkling clean with no trace that there was any kind of party here. After throwing the last trash bag away, you pack a bag for a couple of nights because there is no way you’re staying here for the rest of the week. You leave a note explaining that you’re going to be sleeping at a friend’s house before leaving.

Loki turns over in bed and falls onto the floor having been right by the edge. He groans and opens his eyes, already feeling the effects of the hangover he knows he will have all day. He pushes himself to his feet and opens his bedroom door expecting to see heaps of trash and evidence of how badly he fucked up.

He scrunches his face in confusion when there is not a single spec of garbage in sight. He walks to your room and sees it neat as if you didn’t sleep here last night when he knows for a fact you did. He walks to the very clean living room only to see a note on the table.

staying at a friend’s for a few days

“Shit,” Loki sighs and crushes the note.

He really fucked up. He takes out his phone to call you but you don’t answer. That’s to be expected but he thought he’d try anyway. He’s not sure what friend you’re staying with otherwise he’d go over there in person.

The first day is spent with Loki calling you as much as he can. You kept sending him to voicemail until you blocked his number altogether. Any hope of him reaching you is now gone so all he can do is wait for you to come home.

On the second day, you wait until you know Loki isn’t going to be home so you can go and get a few extra clothes and other things you need. You’re still pissed at him and you don’t want to see his face otherwise you’d punch the shit out of it.

By the third day, your friend’s husband practically kicked you out. You get it, you wouldn’t want you there either but this means you’re forced to go back home. Your other friends either don’t have room for you or they are out of town. No matter, you’re more than happy to continue to ignore Loki at home.

He’s out with his friends by the time you get home from your shift, and you collapse on your bed tiredly. You don’t plan on sleeping for the night since it’s only six but as soon as you close your eyes, you’re out. You don’t wake up until the next day, a few hours before your alarm goes off. The smell of eggs and bacon sifts into your room, pulling you out of your lovely dream where you live alone and didn’t have an obnoxious asshole as a roommate.

You get up and pull on a cardigan before walking into the living room. The kitchen has an open plan so you can see exactly who is cooking. Loki is shirtless with his back to you and he's stirring something in a pot. You hold your head high and walk to the kitchen to grab some water when he scoops a spoonful of the food and turns to you with his other hand hovering below the spoon.

“Come here.”

“Not hungry,” you mumble.

“Y/N, come here.”

You sigh and walk closer to him with a stoic look on your face. He holds the spoon closer to you but you cross your arms.

“I said I wasn’t hungry.”

Loki tips your head back by two fingers under your chin and tugs gently so that your mouth parts open. He tips the contents of the spoon into your mouth, and a burst of flavor explodes on your tongue. Fucking hell. Of course, he had to be a good cook. You do your best not to moan at how good this tastes.

“I know I fucked up. This is my way of apologizing to you.” Loki pulls the spoon away but doesn’t move away from you. This is as good of an apology as you’re going to get from him so you don’t push it. “Tastes good, yeah?”

“You’re still an ass.”

“Yes, an ass that can cook. Sit down and let me feed you before you go to work.”

You turn away from him just as a smile forms on your face, not unnoticed by Loki.

“I’m still pissed at you.”

“I know,” he smirks.

x

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[shower-phantom-ideas]

Jazz becoming the next big Gothem villain is such a solid concept. Theres so much to explore.

She targets corrupt mental institutions. Corrupt companies who destroy their workers state of mind so they wont quit. She attacks landlords who make it impossible for people to live comfortably.

She is the staple anti-hero of anyone struggling to get back on their feet. People should have to work three jobs just to afford a crappy one bedroom, no utilities, half bath, in crime alley apartment, with a roommate.

Shelters should be aiming to gain a profit instead of using the donations to support others.

She is tired of these big name heros leaving children to clean up messes. She has watcher her own brother wither away to a shell of his former self trying to make a change and she is sick of it. Hell she herself is a child but if this is what it takes, then this is what it takes.

Enter from the left The Manipulator™️

Feared by all corrupt. People think she has mind control or something. When she targets someone they make almost a full 180 in their ways. “She will do anything to get her way or to make people into what she thinks they should be. And she mist be stopped” cries big business.

In reality she is the worlds best damn psychiatrist ever to be known. She doesn’t force anyone to change but gives them the choice to be better. To see how much more they can be. And it terrifies them. Helps them find themselves again and to move past their troubling pasts. No force and no mind control. No manipulating. No one but those who she has helped know the truth but when they tell the truth it only fuels the fire of her being controlling.

Theres one thing also fuelling the flames of mind control. Thats the fact that every single major hero to go after her can’t. Any who approach her find themselves no long near her. Superman just wants to talk, well she doesn’t, and he is then back in his city?!? Batman is stalking her to figure out how to deal with her but once he gets too close he suddenly finds himself in the batcave?

At first they think it’s teleportation but time is passing? Theres video feed and tracking of no they just went back themselves. No response from them the whole trip. As if possessed. (Lmao it’s just good brother danny pranking his sis a little by making her seem all powerful but also protecting her anyway he can. Or could be Dan instead)

[makethatelevenrings]

Breakfast for Three // J. Todd x f!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: reader has a kid, swearing, talks of poverty (if u haven’t been able to figure out, I am a leftist and I am tucking my lil handkerchief into my collar and preparing to eat billionaires)

Summary: Being a single parent is hard. Being a single parent in Gotham feels impossible sometimes. Two people change things for the better. 

Listen, raising a child on your own was a test on its own. But being a single parent in Gotham? You had to be absolutely out of your mind.

But you loved your kid. You wouldn’t go back and change your decision. Every morning, you woke up to the giggles and shrieks of your four year old climbing all over you. Lucy was always up before your alarm and while you needed every minute of sleep, you would miss these moments whenever she became too cool to hang out with her mother. So you just bundled her wriggling body up into your arms and peppered her head with kisses as she laughed and wrapped her little octopus limbs around you.

Breakfast had moved from a coffee and a granola bar as you rushed out the door to work to Bluey pancakes for Lucy and even more coffee for you before you rushed out the door to get her to preschool and you to work. Every day felt like it was flying by too quickly.

Her birthday was quickly approaching and that’s how you found yourself out on the fire escape of your apartment with the baby monitor clutched between your hands and sobs escaping you despite your best efforts to stifle your cries.

You couldn’t afford any of the popular toys or games that kids were obsessed with. Hell, you could barely afford rent this month. Living in Gotham wasn’t as bad as other places in terms of rent but raising a kid was expensive and you were struggling to make ends meet thanks to work being slow. God, she was going to be so disappointed. Maybe you could start eating only one meal a day? That would save some money on groceries…

“Are you okay?”

The voice came from the shadows and the subsequent heart attack you received practically launched you into the air. The person cursed and then stepped out of the shadows. Okay, less scary but still pretty fucking terrifying. Red Hood stared down at you, or at least, you thought he was looking at you. The helmet made it difficult to figure out what direction he was facing.

“I said, are you okay?” he repeated in a gruff, no-nonsense voice. You nodded quickly and swiped away your tears with the back of your hand.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Don’t you have skulls to bash in or something?”

A huff of laughter escaped the vigilante’s helmet and you cocked your head to the side. He could laugh? He was capable of humor? Surprises were all around tonight.

“Already did that. And then I heard someone sounding like they just watched Marley and Me three times in a row and figured I should come check.” He eased himself into a crouch next to you and you admired how large and imposing he was yet he didn’t seem terrifying when he was next to you. You weren’t his target so there was no reason to fear him.

“Gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s stupid,” you muttered. You turned your attention back to the baby monitor to see Lucy fast asleep in your bed. The one bedroom apartment you rented didn’t have space for another bed so the two of you shared one. Luckily, she was a deep sleeper so she never stirred when you crawled in a few hours after her bedtime and got up early in the morning to get ready for the day.

“Nothing that makes you cry is stupid,” Red Hood retorted. “Hit me with it.”

“My kid’s birthday is coming up and I don’t have the funds to pay for anything. I can barely keep our heating on. She’s going to hate her birthday and I’ll have ruined it forever. I’m already working sixty hours a week, but I can’t ask Mrs. Hayes to watch her longer. Fuck.” You scrubbed a hand down your face and bemoaned your rotten fucking luck. Fuck your shitbag ex. Fuck the system that prevented single parents from succeeding. Fuck it all.

Rustling beside you made you look up to find Red Hood rummaging through his pockets. He let out a triumphant hum and then outstretched his hand. A stack of bills rested in his gloved palm and your eyes widened at the offering.

“Absolutely not,” you blurted out. “I’m not taking blood money from you. Who knows where that’s come from? And what if you show up in five years demanding the money back with some huge fucking interest rate?”

He chuffed out another laugh. “Christ, your mind is an interesting place. It’s legit, I promise. And it’s not a loan. It’s a gift. Take it. I’ve got enough cash.”

You watched him warily as you reached out and grasped the money. Your lips moved as you counted out the values silently and inhaled sharply once you got to the end. Three thousand dollars. That would pay rent for two months, leaving your paycheck to cushion you.

“Holy shit. Thank you. Thank you so much,” you gasped. But when you looked up, there was no sight of Red Hood. He had simply disappeared into the shadows once again. Only the rough paper of cash in your hands made you realize that it wasn’t a dream.

You spent the rest of the night going over your finances and figuring out where you could use the cash and how much you could spend on Lucy. With enough to bolster you for a bit, you decided to take her by a bakery on her way to pre-school. With her dinosaur backpack firmly settled on her back, Lucy bounded towards the bakery with you hot on her heels. Where the hell did she get all this energy?

“Woah,” a man exclaimed as Lucy tripped on a raised edge of the sidewalk. He caught her before she went sprawling onto the pavement, saving you from a torrent of tears and skinned knees.

“Gotta be careful there, kiddo,” he said as he righted her. You caught up to her finally and kneeled down to check her for injuries. Unscathed, thanks to the stranger. You raised your head to meet his eyes and thank him and found yourself captured by searing teal eyes.

“Thank you,” you blurted out. “I should really get her one of those backpack leashes.”

His full lips curled up into a grin and your heart stuttered at the sight of it. Small scars littered his tan skin, but it only added to the handsome rogue look he had going for him.

“I get it. The cinnamon rolls at this place are fu-” His eyes darted towards the squirming child in your hands. “Freaking amazing. I practically run here every morning to get one.”

Lucy gasped. “You like cinnamon rolls?”

The man shrugged. “Well, yeah, who doesn’t?”

“Sad people,” she replied wisely. You burst into laughter at the solemnity of her words and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“I love you, kid,” you announced.

“Love you too, mommy. Can we go now?”

You stood up to your full height and the man did the same, but he was much taller than you. He offered his hand and you shook it.

“I’m Jason. How about I buy you two breakfast?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do it. If anything, I owe you.”

His smile grew and you marveled at the slight dimple in his chin. “Yeah, but this way I can be a gentleman before I ask you out.”

There was no way this exceedingly handsome, Adonis-like man was asking you on a date. No fucking way. You had toothpaste on your shirt and a four year old currently clinging to your leg. No man had even looked at you since your ex knocked you up and left.

But he was kind and genuine and there was some kind of soft emotion in his eyes that made you want to ask him how the world had hurt him. And Lucy seemed to like him from just their first meeting.

“Okay. Breakfast sounds nice.”

If only you knew how a simple breakfast would change your life forever.

tag list: @mcrmarvelloki​ @gone-batty-fics​ @someoneimsure​ @perpetual-fangirl900​ @visagebrise​ @cursedandromedablack​ @alexxavicry​ @the-wayward-daughter​ @raging-trash-of-mind​ @kat-nee​ @khaylin27​ @igotanidea​ @princessbl0ss0m​

[formosusiniquis]

Am I the Asshole?

Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington; Robin Buckley/Original Female Character(s); Steve Harrington/Original Character(s); Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WC: 6052 | Rated: T | Tags: Modern AU, Reddit AU, Some AITA typical terrible people, QPR Steve & Robin, NB Steve, NB Robin AKA the Stobin AITA fic

r/AmITheAssshole u/HufflepuffHero94 9yrs ago AITA for being concerned about my girlfriends living situation?

Context: My (20F) girlfriend (18F) is amazing. She's a polyglot linguistics major, speaks three languages fluently and she's completely self-taught, a genius basically. We go to the same college (Midwestern Liberal Arts college) where we met in the marching band. Now R, my girlfriend, is from a small town. Like the kind of small town that they make jokes about in sitcoms, she isn't really online (so I'm not worried about her seeing this) because she claims they didn't even have the internet until she was in high school. She isn’t really “out” because of this. It’s like she lives in this semi-closeted space like some kind of TV queerbait character. It's not really a problem, I mean she’ll tell people we’re dating if they ask and all of our marching band friends know but when I ask about it she says it’s because it wasn’t really safe in her hometown growing up. But it’s 2014 not 1980…

Even though R is a freshman she’s in special accommodations. Instead of living in the dorms like the school usually requires she’s got a small, studio apartment just off of campus. A perk considering how awful living in the dorms is. R is a pretty private person and super studious. Most of our dates have been in the library or a study date at the coffee place on campus. She’s not big on PDA, she says she’s trying to get better at it but she’s still only sort of out and I’m her first real girlfriend. I was psyched when she asked me if I wanted to go with her to her apartment to study, said her best friend had a never fail study method that she was eager to try (and when she told me what it was I was pretty eager too).

R can’t drive, so when I pull into the parking lot of her complex she notices something and says her roommate hasn’t left for work yet. I’m a little confused because like I said she lives in a studio apartment, but she just brushes it off and says something about asshole parents and this being what they could afford when some money fell through. She’s sent me snaps from her place, so I know it’s pretty cozy so I tell her it’s fine. Obviously I’m concerned about what the set up is going to be like when we get up there but she insists that dingus (her words) will only be there for another couple minutes before they have to leave for work and that Stevie (again her words) is her best friend in the world. They moved here together from the same small town or something.

To give R credit, she’s definitely done the best she can with the space. When I walked it it definitely felt as homey as it does in her pictures. The door opened up into the kitchen and living room and she’s got those spaces divided off from the beds with one of those Chinese paper divider thingies. Anyway to make a long story short it turns out her roommate and best friend Stevie is actually a whole dude (19). He comes out, gives her a look and asks her if “us girls are planning a sleepover” and if he should make himself scarce for the evening. R says she doesn’t give him shit when his “special friends” come over and after that I kinda stopped listening. I slipped off into the apartment looking for the bathroom and that’s when I saw how their “bedroom” was set up. Twin beds INCHES apart, they might as well be sharing the same one.

Here’s where I might be the asshole. When her “friend” finally cleared out I told her the truth. I didn’t know how comfortable I was hanging out in her place where she lives with a guy. I do live in the dorms but I’ve got a single right now. I asked her to move in with me so she wouldn’t have to be in this situation. I guess it maybe sounded like I was dissing her friend, which I was but I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I just think it’s weird that she won’t come out to anyone and is also living with some guy! I told her I wasn’t interested in being an experiment and if things were serious then she would want to move in with me.

That’s when she kicked me out and called me an asshole. But really I don’t think I’m being a dick for being concerned that she might just be jerking me along while she plays lesbian so she can tell her boyfriend about it at home. Even if nothing is going on I'm just worried that living in this kind of environment isn't safe for her. I mean this guy is probably just pretending to be her friend to get in her pants, I think the fact that they're from the same small town means she can't see that. I really think she would be better off if she moved into the dorms with me aita?

u/otpsnotbrotps NTA

u/foreplayisntreal NTA guys and girls can't be friends. If she even is a lez and a katy perry wannabe then roomie is just biding his time til she's ready to be converted

Read the rest on AO3

[jesse-cromeans-sugarbaby]

Hi love how are you? Hope you are doing well and taking care of yourself❤️

I was wondering if you would write about jesse cromeans x reader were the reader found out about Jesse's hobbies,after years of relationship and she decided to break up with him (in one condition she wouldn't rat him out).

And Jesse had been keeping a close eye on her (stalking her ect), till he noticed how she started forming a bump (lol she's pregnant) so he decides to start sending her baby things yk

(a crib, toys, high chair ect.ect) at her door step (like it's he's kind of way to tell her that hey yk ik you don't want me no more and shit but I still wanna make sure u have everything you need lol)

And you take it from there feel free to delete this if you don't like it or just don't wanna write about ❤️I do still enjoy all of your work your blog is amazing and so is your writing 🥰and congratulations on hitting 100 followers.

I do really hope more people would notice your blog YOU DESERVE IT AFTER ALL ❤️❤️

A/n: (WHEWWWWWW I’ve been gone for a hot minute I apologize everyone. Anyway as you requested my darling I’m sorry it took me so long to write.)

JESSE CROMEANS X PREGNANT!READER

WARNINGS: talks of murder, Jesse is obsessed with you (lucky), kissing,kidnapping, sexual themes.

A WEEK AGO

I’m….pregnant? Looking down at the positive pregnancy test. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! What do I do? I can’t tell him can I? Shit. I look at myself in the mirror. I smile and throw away the pregnancy test hiding it under more trash.

Your boyfriend loves you of course you know that but you guys never discussed pregnancy. He never discussed kids and neither did you…sighing I brush my teeth to get rid of the throw up taste in my mouth. How was I gonna tell him. Maybe I should surprise him?

I walk out of the bathroom and into our bedroom I look at him and I smile. He looks up at me smirking patting the spot next to him. I giggle hoping into bed with him. “How was your day princess?” He signs before kissing down the front of my neck to my cleavage. Running my fingers along his back. “It was good….really..really busy” yeah and I’m pregnant.

He nods before pulling you into a kiss, smiling I wrap my arms around his neck. He pulls me on top of him he slides his hands up your nightgown before flipping me onto my back, I start giggling. The next morning I jolt awake. I look beside me seeing him gone. Ah he must’ve already left. I see a note confirming my thoughts

It says “had to leave for work, love you I’ll call you later” I smile before seeing his laptop open…smiling to myself can’t help but snoop. I grab it and open it. Oh it’s his email, must’ve forgotten to close it. I see a email that catches my eye. I click on it.

Horrified, no…..it was a video of Jesse murdering a woman…he threw her onto the ground before raising his knife in the air and plunging it into her head. Gagging I close the video and slam the laptop closed.

I run to the bathroom to throw up.

——————————————————

Sitting across from him at dinner i held the pregnancy test in your pocket. I stared at him as he typed away on his phone before finally turning to look at you. “We should discuss something” Jesse stared for a minute before typing away on his phone before playing it “we can discuss it later princess” no now Jesse” he sighed before nodding

“I know…..” that’s all I said…it’s all I could really say in the moment. He stared at me before pulling out his phone typing “and?” “And? Really Jesse?” He stared before cracking his neck. “I don’t think I can be involved with you…anymore”

“And I promise I won’t tell”….he stood walking over to me before nodding “as long as you keep your mouth shut princess…it won’t be a problem”

Little did you know Jesse was fuming.

————————

I was working to jobs right now to afford this shit hole of an apartment. That I shared with my shitty roommate. With the baby on the way I’m wasn’t sure if I could pull off being a single mom. Jolting awake rushing to the bathroom I feel dizzy and nauseated. I hunch over the toilet before throwing up. I sit on the floor of the bathroom…my belly is slightly bigger now.

Standing up I look at myself in the mirror frowning before brushing my teeth and getting dressed for work. Grabbing my brush I put my hair into a low pony tail. As I struggle to tie my sneakers I hear my door bell ring. Sighing I drop my shoes before walking over to the door looking through the peep hole seeing nothing.

“Hm.”

Opening the door I see a box, tilting my head I bring the box inside opening it. It’s…filled with bath bombs, robe, tea, and looking at the card it says “relax you deserve it” smiling assuming it’s from your mom. Grabbing your phone your shove it into your purse before putting on flats giving up in sneakers.

Walking out of the house the waddling down towards the bus stop. Where I sat down and waited for my bus to arrive.

*In the distance there the soft hun the an engine, Jesse watches you from a black Bentley. He takes a puff from the cigarette he was smoking to watch as you get onto the bus he starts his car following after the bus. Once the bus stops and you hop out he parks the car watching you walk past shops to get to your work.

He notices you looking at a summer dress in the stores window. Smiling he watches you sigh before walking away.*

—————————————————

I sighed as I scrubbed the tables in the diner I work for. Humming as I wipe down the tables grabbing the menus, I walk over to the kitchen the head chef barb stops me “hey hun how ya feeling” I smile rubbing my back I laugh “oh you know the same old stuff” she smiles and hands me a iced tea and a plate of cookies “go take a break hun and eat”

Smiling I nod taking them from her, I sit she smiles they brought a chair back here so I could sit whenever needed. I munch on the cookies happily taking a sip as I stuff the cookies into my mouth. Barb laughs before continuing to work.

Suddenly our boss is in kitchen “get back to work all of ya!?”

———————————————

I sighed softly as I unpackaged the 15th box to arrive this week…I didn’t buy any of this baby stuff and when I asked my mother who was sending it she just said no. I scratched my head trying to figure out how to put this crib together. To be fair I wasn’t doing to well on my own. I was worried about how I’d be able to afford all this. You’d think with two jobs I’d be able to support myself. Suddenly my phone rings I sigh standing walking over to it answering the phone.

“Hello?”

I hear nothing…I’ve been hoping Jesse would reach out I looked at all the baby stuff before breaking out into tears shake as I ball into my hands. I thought I could do this. I caress my bump humming as I try to gather myself. “We’re gonna be okay”

Jesses fist is clenched tightly as he watches through the camera. Jesse was not gonna just sit by anymore you are his. He look over to span and Preston before standing. He grabbed Preston by the collars and ordered him to get the car ready.

———————————————

Hearing a crash I jolted up holding my stomach I look around confused before standing up the night gown I’m wearing is stretched over my belly. “Hello?” I wa all into the hallway seeing a trail of blood. My eyes widen in shock following the blood. I walk into the kitchen to see Jesse hunched over my dead roommate. He notices me and we just sit there staring at one another. He inhales the smell of you filling his nostrils. God hes missed you.

Staring down at him you don’t know what to say…horrified but happy? Like horrified he murdered your roommate but happy to see him? He stands slowly as if you’ll run away. “Hey princess” he signs I feel tears in my eyes…he approaches before he pulls you into a hug. I lay my head on his chest sighing suddenly trying to pull away when I feel a prick in my neck.

“Ouch…what the hell was that!”

“Just a light sedative…I’m bringing you home.” He types quickly before he grab you and carries you bridal style out of the apartment and to the car he sets you in slowly before buckling you in. He smiles his hand touches your stomach. He takes off his mask placing a kiss on your forehead. I placed his mask back on walking over to the drivers side opening the door he sits down looking over at you closing the door.

He starts driving back home…

He contacted spann typing out “I have her…prepare for her arrival.”

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [3]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: use of reader’s fake name, reader is on the run from her past, remember?, self-doubt, i think that’s it🤷🏻‍♀️

Word Count: 4,045

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night,  you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a  far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be  exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more  and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly  head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

Chapter #03: MARSHAL DADDY

Chapter Summary: It’s difficult to eat dinner with someone who wears a helmet.

  “The greatest act of courage is to be & own all that you are. Without apology. Without excuses & without any masks to cover the truth of who you truly are.” ⏤Unknown

They say it takes three days to build a habit. Three days of an activity then your body and brain begin to crave that routine. You found that to be true, and by the fourth day of living and working for Nevarro's Mandalorian Marshal you were mostly comfortable. You had a schedule at least. In the mornings, you’d get Grogu up and start on breakfast while Mando got ready for work. Like you assumed, Grogu slept in Mando’s bedroom. There was a hammock style set up in a corner of the room surrounded by plush toys, animals, and thick blankets⏤ like a little nest. Then the Marshal would go to work and you’d spend the day with Grogu. Doing light chores around the house when able. Mando would be back from work before the sun went down and you’d have dinner ready for them. If that were all that was involved you’d consider yourself a pro already.

However, like most things in life, it wasn’t quite that simple.

Dinner time still felt rather awkward and you weren’t sure what to do with that. Mando didn’t plan on taking his helmet off around you, information you had gathered not been told, and Grogu was accustomed to seeing his father’s face in the evening. The first night you stayed in the house, you took dinner to your room to eat with the excuse of having to unpack. That’s where you hid until the house grew quiet because you were terrified of stepping out of your room and accidentally seeing Mando’s face. You weren’t sure the logistics of it all, but obviously the stories about Mandalorians not showing their face to the public were true and you’d feel awful if you screwed that up for him.

The next few nights you tried a similar tactic, but you could tell Mando felt odd about the entire scenario. Maybe he felt bad that you were hiding away in a house you technically lived in, or maybe he hated the idea of someone lurking in a back bedroom, but it was obvious this was not going to work. So, you made the excuse that Nima wanted to hang out, and on your third and fourth night you met your friend at the local cantina to drink. Mando preferred to do Grogu’s night time routine anyways so he got the kid into bed. You just had to be there in case he got called into work⏤ which hadn’t actually happened yet.

The point was, your system needed adjusting, but you were still in your first week of work. Obviously there would be issues and hopefully time would be the solution to it all.

“So, is this just where you’re going to live from 7:30 to 9:30 every single day?” Nima asked.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course not.” As a side note, you mumbled under your breath. “I can’t afford to drink that much.” Mando and you had agreed on a more than fair wage, but your salary wasn’t going to go far if you kept blowing it on drinks with Nima. “We’re still figuring things out.”

“Has he offered any solution?”

“I don’t want him to offer. I want to figure it out myself.” You argued. “That’s his  home. I’m intruding. I hate that he feels uncomfortable in any way.”

Nima pointed her glass toward you. “Counter argument. It’s your home now. He’s  paying  you to be there. You shouldn’t feel uncomfortable either.”

“It’s⏤It’s more complicated than that.” You said. “It’s not like he’s doing this just to do it. The helmet thing is part of being Mandalorian, I think, and the only time he is free of that is with his son in the evening. I don’t want to take that from them.”

“Cara says it’s not all Mandalorians.”

“What?”

“Apparently there are different kinds, or something, and they have different beliefs.” Nima replied. The two of you were sitting at the bar on stools you had claimed to be your own this week. Behind you the cantina was buzzing with life and music. This was a popular place to be in the evening, you weren’t alone in your routine. “The Marshal is part of the group that can never reveal their face to any living thing. But he shows it to his son so maybe that’s the exception.” Nima clapped you on the shoulder. “That’s it! You just gotta be adopted by him!”

“I don’t want to be adopted by the Mandalorian.” You snorted and lifted your drink to your lips.

“Why? You can call Marshal Mando ‘daddy’. Mmm, Marshal Daddy.”

You inhaled your sip of spotchka at her words and began to choke. Nima laughed in glee while you tried to cough up the blue, burning liquid that now resided in your lungs. When it was clear enough for you to speak, you glared at her. “Seriously?”

“He’s hardly my type, but there must be something about him considering how worked up the single women in this town get over him.” Nima shrugged. You chuckled in response. She wasn’t wrong. On your first day of being a nanny, Torlee had given you rather a cold greeting and she hadn’t been the only one. There were a handful of random people around town who would give you the stink eye as if you had stolen something from them. “So? What is it? You date guys. Tell me the secret.”

To be honest, you weren’t entirely sure. You had your guesses. There was something about the strong silent type that tended to strike up intrigue, and Mando was nothing if not strong and silent. It was really cute hearing stories about how serious and deadly he could be as Marshal and then watch him hold full conversations with his son at home. Duality of man, you supposed. Then there was his figure alone. Somehow, it left nothing to the imagination while also leaving plenty for a person to imagine. You, and everyone else it seemed, had no idea what he looked like under all that armor, but by the Maker was his shoulder to waist ratio godly.

Personally, you hadn’t caught the bug for him. Probably because, despite knowing he was human, you couldn’t stop picturing large green ears tucked into the helmet. As if Grogu had taken after him somehow. It was ridiculous, and you knew Grogu was adopted, but if imagining an aged up Grogu under the suit kept you from drooling over the man then it was for the best. He was your boss after all.

“I don’t know the secret.” You finally replied. “But if I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”

Grogu’s eyes had already fluttered close, soft snores drifting from him, but Din couldn’t bring himself to set the child down yet. Peli told him dozens of times that it wasn’t good to let the kid fall asleep in his arms. Children were supposed to learn how to fall asleep on their own. Din figured Grogu could learn that skill later in life. Letting his son fall asleep in his arms was quite possibly his favorite part of their night time routine. It was when Din felt the most at peace.

Din continued to lightly rock Grogu as he stood in place by his bed. A soft buzzing sound had him reaching over to his dresser to pick up the communicator that rested there.

  ‘I’m home! Are you in your room?’

‘Yes.’  Din sent back. Seconds later he could hear the front door lightly click shut followed by quiet footsteps. They passed his bedroom, and Din stared at his communicator a second longer before typing,  ‘Good night.’

  ‘Good night to you too. Hope Grogu didn’t give you too much trouble.’

Din struggled with a response before deciding to just set his communicator aside. You were hardly a stranger at this point, but he still found himself at a loss of words. It didn’t help that the two of you were caught in quite the dilemma. Din didn’t know how to fix this problem. Well, he did, but it wasn't a step he was prepared to take.

The easiest solution was to take his helmet off and show you his face. Easiest in the sense that it was the least complicated, but in terms of how ready he was to handle that⏤ it may be the most difficult solution. Technically speaking, he wasn’t a Mandalorian right now. Apostate. That’s what the Armorer had called him, and he could hardly argue otherwise. Din had taken his armor off with Mayfield in order to find where Moff Gideon had taken his son. Mayfield had seen his face. Then, when he thought he was saying good-bye to his son, he removed his helmet once more. Grogu saw his face. Cara saw his face. Fennec and Bo-Katan. At that point, he knew he should never place it on his head again, but he had.

When the Armor asked him if any living thing had seen his face, he knew what the outcome would be. His creed had been lost. Boba had spoken to him for a long time about the Children of the Watch and about the reputation his helmet carried. According to the older man, there was more to the creed than hiding his face. Boba Fett was someone he respected greatly. His opinion on the matter held great weight, but in the quiet of the night Din still found himself doubtful. The Armorer agreed to redemption after all. If Din returned to Mandalore, bathed in the Living Waters, then he would be Apostate no longer. That had been his plan until Karga offered him a home and job here.

Din's plan had been to turn it down, carry forth with his mission to redeem himself, but upon further thought he didn't want to take Grogu to a potentially poisoned planet. Maybe one day, but for now he wanted peace. He wanted a life with his son, and Nevarro gave that to him. As he hadn’t redeemed himself yet, as he was still Apostate, that meant Din was free to take his helmet off right now. Technically speaking he had no creed to uphold, not until he went on his journey to Mandalore, but he still hadn't been able to bring himself to reveal his face to anyone but his foundling. He told himself it was because he didn't want to break his creed any further than he already had before finding redemption, but sometimes he wondered if that was all.

He spent a majority of his life wearing this helmet. It was a shield that separated him from the rest of the world. To be honest, Din didn't know how to go about his day with his face out for any stranger to see. He never wanted to admit to fear, but this gripped his soul. Up until now, he was able to push the thoughts aside and just live his life with Grogu by his side. It wasn't until you came into the equation that things changed. Now, he was forced to confront these thoughts.

What were his options? Show his face to you or fire you? The latter wasn't a feasible. Grogu had already grown attached, and Din would be lying if he said he hadn’t as well. Having you around was a relief. It had taken a weight off his shoulders he hadn’t been aware he was carrying. Hiring you had been a very, very good decision. Now, he just had to figure out how to keep you.

At the end of the day, he did not regret the choices he made regarding his helmet. If Din had to relive those days he would make the same choices over and over and over again. In his entire life, he never thought he’d find something worth more to him than his creed, but he had been proven wrong. Grogu was more important. His son. Din would reveal his face to the world twelve times over if it meant he could keep Grogu safe. He’d suffer the Armorer’s disdain and be exiled repeatedly if it meant he got to keep his son by his side⏤ help raise him and watch him grow.

Din did not regret the position he found himself in, but he did not know where to go from here. He couldn't expect you to hide away when the sun went down every day. DIn could argue that showing you his face would be for Grogu's benefit. Revealing his full identity to you was for his son. That's a sacrifice he's always been able to make. Still, he struggled.

With a soft sigh, Din set Grogu into his hammock and tucked him in. He snuggled deeper into the space and Din smiled at the action.

Solving this issue would take just one minute of decisive action. Don't think, just act. He was good at that. Din ran a hand through his hair, probably only making it messier, and readjusted his plain shirt and sweatpants. He didn’t have a mirror in his room, wasn’t used to needing one, and for the first time he felt annoyed by that fact. Settling in his resolve, Din stepped out of his room and quietly treaded to your closed door.

Din went to knock, but he found his hand hovering over the wood, 'What if she doesn't like the way I look?'

The thought was involuntary. It shoved to the forefront of his mind without any kind of warning. What? Where had that even come from? His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That shouldn’t be something he cared about, yet now he couldn't shake it free.

He found you attractive. It was one the first thing he noticed, but he didn’t pay it any attention. His dating history was by no means extensive, but he was still a red blooded man. Din was just used to putting that kind of information to the back of his mind. Especially since Grogu became a part of his life. He hadn’t pursued anyone since he found Grogu. It just hadn’t been a priority to him.

Granted, you were difficult to ignore. He thought you were beautiful, and he thought it was cute that you tended to ramble anytime you got nervous. Plus, watching you with his son was addicting. Din could watch you play and chat with Grogu all day long. That had to be it. He was just hypnotized by the domestic bliss you carried with you. There was nothing more. If he was better at convincing himself of that then this would probably be easier. Din planned to knock, he wanted to, but despite logically working through the issue the question still remained and he found himself embarrassed that he had such a silly concern.

The sound of muffled steps alerted him that a decision needed to be made. His body was moving on its own accord, and he backpedaled silently to slip back in his room. Seconds later he heard your door open followed by the bathroom door opening and closing. Din rubbed his face and shuffled over to his bed to fall into it.

Tomorrow. He’d try again tomorrow.

As your alarm began to blare, you blindly reached out to your nightstand table to silence it. You laid in bed a moment longer, stretching each limb, then sat up with a groan. Around this time in the morning, Mando was getting ready for work and Grogu would be in the process of waking up. You climbed out of bed and wandered out to the bathroom to use the toilet and quickly brush your teeth. Still dressed in your pajamas, you peered into Mando’s bedroom assuming that since the door was open it would be safe.

“Grogu?” You whispered and tiptoed in. Typically, you’d find him chilling in his hammock waiting for you to scoop him up. He was always the cutest and most cuddly when you picked him up in the mornings. Today though, you were greeted with an empty bed. “Huh.”

You turned out of the room and walked down the hall. You could hear Mando softly talking to Grogu, and Grogu’s giggly, mostly nonsensical responses drifting toward you. There was something odd about Mando’s voice, something your mind couldn’t place, but in your morning haze you didn't think to stop and puzzle out why. You stepped through the archway into the kitchen just to freeze.

Standing at the stove was a man.

His back was to you and you could see Grogu’s ears from where he was being held in one arm. He wore a plain gray t-shirt that was thin enough to see the outline of his shoulder blades and back. His sweatpants hung on his hips and that shoulder to waist ratio was undeniably familiar. This was the Mandalorian. You were staring at Mando. His helmet was resting on the counter by the stove. Soft, messy brown hair covered his head. The ends looked like they naturally curled, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the tan skin rising up from his collar to where his hair met the nape of his neck.

You were so in awe that it took a second to realize the situation you were currently in.

This was Mando.

You were staring at Mando.

Helmet less Mando.

You couldn’t hold back the gasp that left you, and you quickly shut your eyes⏤ slapping your hands over them as well for good measure.

"Soran?" You heard Mando call out to you in surprise, but you spun around to leave the room. Unfortunately, in your panic, you misjudged where you stood and instead of rushing through the archway you ran straight into the wall. You yelped in pain and since you were too afraid to pull your hands from your eyes to catch yourself you ended up falling on your ass instead. You grunted, and Mando cursed. “Dank farrik.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You blurted. “I am so sorry, Mando.”

“Are you alright?” Mando’s voice was altered once more to the tone you were most familiar with as it came through the voice modulator. "Soran?" He called out again in concern, and you could feel him kneeling near you. "Are you-"

You shook your head and didn't let him speak. “Mando, I am so sorry. I swear to the Maker, I didn’t see you.” You paused. “That’s sort of a lie. I saw the back of your head. You have brown hair. Really nice brown hair, but definitely brown hair. I swear though, I didn’t see your face.”

“You did nothing wrong.” Mando said. “You can open your eyes.”

His voice sounded like he was wearing his helmet, but you still found yourself nervous. You peeked through one eye between your fingers, hesitant, but when you saw silver beskar you breathed out a sigh of relief. Mando was knelt beside you, one hand resting on the archway you ran into, so his entire frame hovered over you. It still felt odd to see his bare arms, and now with him facing you it was clear to see all of his neck and his collarbones. You were gawking. You needed to stop. Luckily, Grogu was standing in front of you with his hands held over his closed eyes much like you had just been sitting. You chuckled and at the sound he peeked through his own hands.

Finally, you lifted your gaze back to the t-shaped visor, “Mando⏤”

He held up a hand, stopping your flow of words, and spoke firmly, “Are you injured?”

“Not physically. My pride hurts a decent bit.” You admitted. Mando let out a breathy laugh and the sound caught you off guard. You really hadn’t spent all that much time with him let alone spent the time making him laugh. You were mostly with Grogu. “I am sorry though.”

“If anyone is at fault, it’s me. I forgot to warn you I wasn’t working today, and I’m the one out in the open without my helmet.”

“Yeah, but this is your house. You have every right to wander all over this place, helmet less or not.” You replied. Just last night you had been talking to Nima about this issue, and it was growing more problematic by the second. You sighed. “Maybe… Maybe I should move out?” Mando stiffened and slowly tilted his head at you. “I can get a place in town, real close, and just come here in the morning before you leave for work and then leave when you get back.” Grogu crawled into your lap cooing and you wrapped your arms around him. “If you ever need me in the night you can just message me and I’ll run right over.”

Mando didn’t immediately reply and you nervously began to play with Grogu’s ears. The kid giggled and the sound was almost a good distraction for the tension in the air. Finally, Mando spoke up, “Are you... comfortable living here?”

“Am I⏤? Of course!” You said. “You’ve been so welcoming and my room is great and the job is perfect⏤” You shook your head. “You’ve been wonderful, Mando. I just don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable." He replied in a tone that settled the matter. "And if you’re not uncomfortable then,” Mando shrugged, “I think you should stay.”

There was a warmth in his voice that brought a broad smile to your face. Grogu bounced in your lap and he held his hands up toward your face. You leaned in so he could pat your cheeks. “Okay. Besides, how could I stand to be so far away from my bestest buddy?”

Mando pushed to stand and then he held out a hand for you to take. The urge to stare and take in every inch of it was weirdly tempting, but you let him pull you up to your feet. Mando cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m actually glad you’re up. Grogu wants something for breakfast, and he’s unhappy with all my attempts.”

“Egg.” Grogu blurted, staring up at you. “Egg. Egg. Egg.”

“He sounds like a Jawa.” Mando mumbled. “I made eggs, but he didn’t want them.”

You glanced over at the stove where a frying pan sat by a carton of eggs. Grogu’s high chair had a small bowl of untouched scrambled eggs. You chuckled. “I think he wants an omelet. I made it for him yesterday and he loved it.”

“Egg!” Grogu agreed.

“Here, I can make it.” You held Grogu out to Mando who took him. The Mandalorian murmured something to his son in Mando’a that you didn’t catch. It reminded you that you meant to talk to Mando about this. Grogu used a handful of words in that language, but because you didn’t recognize them it made communication difficult. You had been working with Grogu on words in Basic, and you’d love to add some Mando’a vocabulary to it. You just needed to know it first. You went to the fridge to pull out cheese and a few vegetables that you knew Grogu liked.

Mando stood behind you, leaning against the kitchen counter top with his son in his arms, and you glanced over your shoulder only once to admire him.

“What?” He questioned.

“Sorry. It’s just so weird to see you out of the suit of armor.” You chuckled.

“Bad weird?”

“No,” You replied quickly, “It just ruins the mental image I had of green skin and big ears.”

Mando laughed again, “Sorry to disappoint.”

“I’ll just have to learn to live with it, I suppose.”

The kitchen was filled with Grogu laughing as his dad tickled him and the sizzling of breakfast. Typically, you were here alone wrestling the green bean while trying to make him food. It wasn’t overly difficult and you still enjoyed it, but there was something kind of calming from having Mando here as well and that caught you off guard. The lack of his full suit of armor might play a role in that. In the early morning light wearing his pajamas and playing with his son, he looked so… human.

“I was wondering, do you, uh, have plans today?”

You flipped the omelets in the skillet then looked over at Mando with a grin. “Well, until five minutes ago I thought I was on Grogu duty.”

“Right.” Mando blurted. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner⏤”

“I’m joking, Mando. What were you thinking?”

He paused briefly, “Well, there’s a traveling market here today. Local vendors and some from neighboring worlds." Mando said. “I can show you around. If you're interested that is."

You finished with both omelets and went to grab a set of plates. “I’d love that!” You set both plates on the counter by Mando. “Sounds fun. Here. You boys have breakfast and I’ll go get ready for the day. Yeah?” Mando pushed off the counter and pointed to the omelet with a slight tilt of his head. You nodded. “It’s yours.” You point to his, then his son’s omelet. “You, Grogu.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not a big breakfast eater, don’t worry.” You shrugged. “Take your time too, don’t rush. I’m gonna take a shower this morning so you and Grogu can enjoy.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Excited for the day, you hurried upstairs to get ready. You were interested to see the small marketplace become more lively with outside visitors. You were sure the lively city was even more bright today. Plus, this would be an opportunity to get to know your boss a little bit better. Maybe if the two of you were a little more comfortable with one another then hiding from him in your room during dinner time would be a bit less awkward.

[catscidr]

// aquarium (i want you dead or alive) //  

i. note — hihihi enjoy this short thing i did as a warmup to get my brain juices flowing _(:3」∠)_ this was inspired by aquarium from funny boy matt watson (its a good song trust)…..heard the chorus n went "wow this sure does remind me of someone" ii. includes — modern au akademiya (university) student dottore, gn!reader  iii. cw — stalking and yandere tendencies, obsession, smoking, blood, homicidal thoughts. no dialogue; just dottore nd his thoughts. also not quite proofread ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ iv. wc — 1k -> now also on ao3 (b˙◁˙ )b

It’s hard to ignore things when your brain is so hellbent on making you notice. 

Forcing your eyes to flit over every single inch of a room you walk in, making your legs carry you towards something that, unconsciously, caught your attention because they just happened to remind you of something. 

When it’s curiosity driven it isn’t too bad, since the worst that can happen is a slight pang of disappointment when your curiosity isn’t sated from your inquisition.

It’s an entirely different problem when the urge to look for something specific is caused by a deep-rooted obsession with something. 

Someone. 

And it’s even worse when you see things in places where they simply are not. 

Walking out of the Akademiya to seek shelter at the dingy bus stop the city can’t bother fixing, catching a glimpse of the poster on the side of it. A model posing with a bottle of perfume stares back, the advertisement almost mocking him as he stops walking shy of being under the bus stop’s roof. 

Its face morphs into one he’s all too familiar with instead of being a stranger’s, and his mouth inhales more air than it needs to. 

Stepping into the squalid convenience store near his flat to grab an energy drink and a pack of cigarettes, wordlessly paying for the items until the cashier says ‘have a nice evening’ in a tired, unenthusiastic tone. Hands faltering for a millisecond as he awkwardly grabs what he purchased, immediately taking out and lighting up a dart to exhale the agitation simmering inside his gut. 

The pitch of their voice was uncannily close to yours. 

Slamming his apartment door shut and kicking his shoes off, dragging himself into his room to make good use of the energy drink he just bought. Opening his laptop only to be met with the sight of sanguine boring into the screen before it dissipates and the screen lights up, displaying his hard work. 

Curtains drawn at all hours of the day, his bedroom was no stranger to gloom. Though void of any natural luminescence, multiple copies of your face smile back at him. 

He exhales smoke through his nose, tapping the excess ash forming at the tip of his cigarette into a tray and takes a sip of his drink, never blinking. 

... 

To him, not having any classes together didn’t matter at all. Didn’t even make a single difference. 

None. 

Because sitting in the same lecture hall as you wouldn’t matter or change a thing, since he would be just as far away in that hypothetical than if he were in a different class.  

Which he is. 

His grades are high enough that he can afford to ditch his class to loiter in the vicinity of your classroom instead. You don’t speak much, but he doesn’t particularly care since it allows him to listen. To memorize the sound of your chair screeching as quietly as it can behind you, memorize your tendency to be one of the first people to leave the class in order to rush to your next one. 

Memorize how you fail to take notice of your surroundings on days like these where you have a class right after the other, as he watches your legs work overtime to carry you to the other side of the building to make it in time. 

It lets him think, undisturbed. 

... 

He never musters up the courage to speak to you. You only spoke because he was careless and accidentally made himself noticeable in the sea of students one too many times, and he apparently looked so out of place that you sparked up a conversation with him despite not being the type to reach out first. 

Maybe God was playing with him by making you do something he hadn’t predicted. The conversation itself was brief, but long enough for him to want to talk to you again. 

And for you to want to talk to him again, too. 

...And talk to you again he does when you spot his minty bedhead in the library and sit across from him, making his poor heart leap out of his chest, bringing one hand down to close his laptop screen a little too harshly. Bile rose in his throat; too engrossed in his research, he hadn’t heard you approach him at all. A fault he’ll have to rectify later. 

After you apologize in his stead to the students that gave you both a side-eye for making noise, God how he wants to pluck each and every single one of their eyes out, you take out your own laptop from your bag and open it up to get to work alongside him. 

He tries to keep his mind at bay for now, wanting to enjoy his impromptu date with you. 

... 

Washing blood off his clothes has always been a hassle, especially considering how he had to walk to the laundromat to do so. He somehow always has a stain somewhere on his person, whether it’s from accidentally hurting himself or from his proneness to getting nosebleeds. 

Or other reasons. 

Standing over the sink, he watches the liquid drip from his nose down to the porcelain basin. Observing the pattern it makes as it slides down the drain, watching the vibrant red turn into slithers of watery vermillion. He clutches the edges of the sink tightly, letting himself fantasize about assaulting the students from a few hours ago. Cleaning their blood off of his shirt, then watching his clothes tumble in the washing machine in the laundromat. 

Now that he was alone, he shuts his eyes and sighs. He refused to let himself think anything less than pure thoughts around you lest you somehow gain the ability to read minds and decide to read his, if they could even be called that. 

They were more akin to promises than anything else. 

Opening his eyes, he’s met with more red than white, his nose’s blood having taken up more surface area than the sink itself. Some had even gotten on his previously pristine collar. 

Zandik glances up, staring at his stained button-up in the mirror. 

Maybe he wouldn’t wash your blood off of his clothes. 

[fruitcoops]

Eeeek I am so excited to send in this request bcs I feel like it's one you could really do justice. (if you feel inspired that is. There's absolutely no pressure) but I was wondering if you'd be willing to write coops becoming more comfortable around each other? That's not the right word but just the constant butterflies sort of fading and instead realizing that love isn't all thrill it's sometimes a deep-seated love and being calm and comfy around your loved one? So like one of them doing something that used to cause butterflies and maybe sometimes does still bit it's the realization that you're so attuned to them you're used to it and love it and them?

Sorry this got really long and idk if it makes any sense or not. Anyway I love youuu and your writinggg it's such a source of comfort for me so thank you for doing what you do

Fluff in the wake of Vaincre! I think this is becoming a pattern. Though I, for one, am not complaining. Character credit goes to @lumosinlove, and Hazel, I am suing you for custody of my broken heart.

Sirius is washing the dishes and Remus puts a hand on his lower back without really thinking about it, slipping his palm beneath the hem of a Mickey Mouse t-shirt to rest over the bend of Sirius’ spine. His hand molds to the curve, fingertips on one dimple and heel of his palm on the other, thumb sliding along the lowest notch. Sirius hums and leans his head down to bonk Remus’ in a gentle greeting. They’re all small, thoughtless motions for a small, thoughtless night.

And it hits him.

The kitchen—theirs. The house—theirs. The neighborhood—theirs, where they wander after dinner sometimes or find well-traveled sidewalks to their new favorite shops and diners.

Sirius. His.

They’ve talked about moving, about kids, about after. What happens after hockey? Sirius can get through July now without growing antsy at the absence, but still, it’s taken almost a decade. A smaller house (a warmer house, a house that’s theirs) would be a good change. Not a rushed one, though. It seems there are endless hours to plan and look and comfortably explore.

Water sloshes over the marble countertop. They’ll never have to worry about money; not like Remus’ parents did. They’ll never be restricted by loans or debt or whatever neighborhood falls within budget. He came to Gryffindor marveling at an affordable single-bedroom apartment. It’s a habit he’s been trying to break on those late-night Zillow scrolls. They both love the cabin on the lake, but…

But maybe they’ll need the space.

Remus turns his head to kiss the curve of Sirius’ shoulder and sees him smile, capable hands working soap through a sponge. If they were a regular couple, he thinks—a different couple, he corrects—there might already be a new addition on the way. He can see the longing in Sirius’ eyes when they talk about it and feels the yank in his own chest at the thought. He’s wanted that since he was a child. It only grew more intense when Jules was born. It would make sense for them.

The things he’d do for a baby with Sirius’ eyes and his nose and, god, they can’t stop there, can they? The kid would need a sibling, wouldn’t they? A Regulus, a Julian, a James, a Lily that they could rely on and go headfirst with into the wonder of the world? Someone to lead, or someone to follow. To protect. Remus has never been the type to brainstorm baby names, but the amorphous dream is thrilling on its own.

Sirius makes a small noise in the back of his throat when a bubble pops and spatters Remus’ sleeve with soap. He’d be such a good dad, it’s not even funny. Remus can’t think about it too hard, or else he’ll start scrolling through PetFinder to find another dog to take the edge off.

He bites gently at Sirius’ bicep and feels him laugh, feels him swat at Remus’ hand with no real effort behind it. “Love you.”

“So you bite me?” Sirius snorts. “Weirdo.”

Remus exhales hard through his nose. “I want a baby.”

“Ouais, let me just run to CVS—”

Sirius’ snickering is not dulled by the light pinch to his ribs; Remus hides his grin in another bite. “I’m serious—”

“No, I am.”

“Oh my god,” he groans, turning away.

“Non, non, wait,” Sirius laughs. His arms wind around Remus’ waist and pull him close enough for Sirius to plant a kiss to his temple. It’s adorable, how careful he is to keep his sudsy hands out of the danger zone. He nuzzles into Remus’ cheek before straightening. “A baby. Yes. Absolutely. You know my thoughts on this.”

“I do,” Remus sighs. “And I know why it’s not a good idea right now. Still.”

“Still,” Sirius agrees. He sways them for a moment, then Remus feels a squeeze and the weight along his back is gone. The faucet flicks back on. “I want—” He presses his lips together, mouth twisting as he works it over in his thoughtful way. “I want to be there.”

Remus takes a clean towel from the drawer and begins to dry the plates. “I know.”

“And you’ll probably retire first, which is fine, but I want…” Sirius tips his head back and forth. Remus knows he’s running through their list again. The pros, the cons, the frustrating parts that they so desperately don’t want to deal with but have to anyway. Sirius scrubs at a bit of dried rice and scrunches his nose. “I want you to be there, too. Both of us. From the start.”

“I know.” It sucks. They might not have to scrape and save but time is not a resource hockey will spare them, and Remus is so grateful that Sirius takes that seriously. He meets Sirius where he is in their timeline. “I’ll retire. Take a break. I’ll go back to PT, probably faster than either of us think I will. You’ll decide when your last season is. We’ll put in an application—”

“—and by the time I’m done, we’ll have an idea of any possibility,” Sirius finishes, passing him a clean glass. They’ve repeated it so many times that it’s practically a mantra. Deep down, it gives Remus hope. The planning. It means there’s a chance. It means they’re on the same page all the way through. Sirius lets out a breath. “And then, maybe, we’ll have something concrete.”

Adoption, surrogacy…it doesn’t really matter. Both are such complicated webs of people and events and things entirely out of their control—Remus hates it, and he knows Sirius hates it more. He sets the towel down and moves to rest his forehead between Sirius’ shoulder blades, where his heartbeat keeps time against Remus’ skin. He winds his arms around Sirius’ waist and flattens his hand over Sirius’ belly to feel him breathe.

They have all options in the world, and yet it all feels much too big.

He spreads his feet a little when Sirius leans back. Measured inhales, pulse keeping a constant 60 beats-per-minute.

Remus laughs quietly.

“What?”

He shakes his head, kissing each curve of Sirius’ wingbones beneath his shirt.

“What?” Sirius presses.

“A year ago, if you grabbed me and pulled me back like that, I would have jumped your bones,” he says wryly, burying his grin in the bend of Sirius’ neck. “Listen to us, angsting about the future like a couple of old geezers.”

“Feel free to jump my bones, if you think your arthritic joints can handle it,” Sirius teases.

“I’m just saying—”

“Oh, Christ, I’m turning 29 in a year,” Sirius moans, tapping the water off with a flourish. “I’m dead. I’m dying. I am wasting away. Tell Celeste I love her—”

“We’re standing in the kitchen, washing the dishes, on a Friday night!” Remus protests. “Aren’t we supposed to be…I don’t know, going to a club or something?”

Sirius turns in the circle of his arms with a grave expression. “If we’re going out, I need to go rinse my dentures.”

Remus chooses to ignore that particular comment. “The cubs are probably raising hell and breaking hearts.”

“The cubs are extroverts.” Sirius cocks a brow. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you want to go out and get drunk with a bunch of sweaty strangers.”

He can’t help the wrinkling of his nose; the told-you-so satisfaction on Sirius’ face is fondly irritating enough that he reaches up to cover it with a loose hand. Sirius laughs and dodges him like always, biting a kiss to the side of his palm. “Anyway,” Remus prompts with a squeeze of his narrow hips. “I love you. Which was my whole point.”

“You had a point?”

“I always have a point.”

“That’s a stretch, but alright.”

“Our kitchen,” he says, tilting his chin up. “Our house, our neighborhood, our future.” A smirk pulls at his lips and he rubs his thumbs just beneath Sirius’ shirt. “Mine.”

“Yours,” Sirius murmurs around a smile. They might be getting old and married and boring, and Remus might finally be able to watch Sirius and his capable hands without going weak in the knees, but his kisses will send joy crashing through him forever and always. The future isn’t so big in the safety of a moment.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 4

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: Here's the first of the completely new chapters. I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I wake up to the deliberately annoying sound of my alarm blaring from my bedside. I look out at the still-dark skyline outside and slide off the alarm before checking my notifications. A smile instantly replaces my sleepy scowl as I read the messages that filtered in overnight.

I know it’s late, but I’m wired from sleeping on the flight… even though it was only three hours. I know I should be better at this flying thing with how much I travel for work but I guess I never learn Also…I could get used to you colliding with me 😉 God that was too cheesy, I’m sorry, forget I said anything, I blame the jetlag! I need to stop before I permanently scare you away if it’s not already too late. Good night

I smile at his dorkiness before dragging myself out of bed. As much as I’d love nothing more than to message him back now and text all day, my shift starts in an hour and I need to get ready first. I force myself through the motions of showering, donning my uniform, eating a light breakfast, and brushing my hair and teeth before slipping out the door. The sun is just beginning to rise overhead as I stroll through the quiet streets. As much as I’m not a morning person, I do enjoy this little slice of quiet before the rush of the day.

Once I get to the cafe, I greet the baker who is finalising the baked goods for the day. I help him stock the fridges, leaving the tray of burnt muffins on the bench in the kitchen as per his instructions and then open the store.

With the Christmas rush still in full swing, the morning passes quickly but leaves me exhausted. Once I finally get a break I take one of the slightly burned and therefore, unsaleable candy cane muffins and a bottle of water and sit at a small table out the back of the cafe. I pull out my cracked phone and finally allow myself to reply.

I sell festive drinks & snacks to people who haven’t yet had their morning coffee - It’s gonna take more than a jet lag-induced comment to scare me away Watching you behead someone on TV though, that was rough You sure I can trust you? I promise I’d never hurt you, that is unless I catch you draining someone of their blood Wait! Are you working? I didn’t mean to disturb you Not at the moment I can chat for a bit So, you promise you won’t drink anyone? I get queasy when someone cuts their finger, so no chance My show’s probably not for you then The eye candy’s worth it But I also live alone, so horror is generally a no-go That’s ok. As I said, it’s more interesting to me that you’re not a fan There are no expectations to live up to But eye candy, eh? I don’t know about Dean but there was the vamp was pretty sexy Till he lost his head anyway Oh…🥺 Nah, Dean’s alright too… Though I do think he’s the most scary. I don’t think he would take kindly to wearing a cup of hot chocolate Probably not But he’d find you charming He’d probably use it as an excuse to try and get your number He’d have more confidence than shyly writing his number on a coaster and hoping the pretty girl makes the next move You think I’m pretty? You don’t need to try and flatter me You’ve only seen me when I’m exhausted and covered in rotting milk If you’d seen me on a day when I’d actually put in some effort then maybe I’d believe you Then maybe one day I’ll have to give you a reason to dress up for me Take you on a real date You plan on coming back to New York? It’s not in my schedule yet But maybe in the new year Unless I can tempt you to come to Texas? I live in a single-bedroom apartment in downtown New York And I work in a cafe I can’t afford airfares and hotel accommodations in Texas at Christmas! How about if it was all-expenses-paid? Jensen…

Just as I’m typing a reply my colleague bursts through the backdoor. I check the time and realise it’s been over ten minutes since I came outside. I quickly type out a halfhearted excuse and shut off my phone before scurrying back inside.

Sorry, my break’s over. I gotta get back to work. Talk later

Despite going through the motions; making coffees, heating muffins, and delivering orders, my mind continues to wander back to Jensen’s offer and my lack of response. We barely know each other, how could I let him pay for a holiday in Texas? While a holiday sounds like heaven after working my ass off all year, I refuse to let it be at someone else’s expense, even if that person is a successful and wealthy actor. I refuse to be seen as a gold digger, even in my own eyes. Also, I can’t stand the thought of him finding out my true passion and then accusing me of using him to get a leg up in the industry. By the end of my shift, I decide to come clean about everything.

Back in my apartment, I shower again and change into comfy clothes before collapsing on the couch. I switch on the TV, not caring what’s on, just looking for a little comforting background noise. The random Doctor Phill reruns don’t take long to lull me to sleep.

The continual vibrating of my phone on the coffee table drags me back to the land of the living. I rub my eyes to wake myself up and check who’s blowing up my phone.

I’m sorry if I came on too strong I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable You’re right, we barely know each other I promise I’m gonna stop making stupid comments and just give you space I’m sorry again

I mull over the messages for a few minutes and type and delete multiple replies before mustering up all the courage I can and giving in and pressing the call button instead. I listen to the dial tone for a few rings before he finally picks up. Wanting to smooth things over before he jumps in all apologetically I rush to speak first as soon as the call connects.

“Look, I know we’re texting people, not calling people. But this conversation needed to be had like this.”

“Are you telling me to lose your number? Because I will if that’s what you want.”

“No. I just think we’ve been living in some fantasy, and maybe you’re used to that since you’re an actor. But here in New York, no matter how badly I want to be a performer, I have to live in the real world. Any handouts I take, and any relationships I make will be used against me.”

“A holiday is not a handout. But wait, you want to be a performer?”

“During the year, I took acting and singing classes. I also auditioned for roles on Broadway. But obviously, I didn’t get any of the roles. But I swear, I didn’t recognise you when we met the other day. And I don’t intend to use you to get a role. I’m not a gold digger. I want to do this myself,” I ramble, hoping he believes me.

“Hey, I’m not accusing you of anything. I believe you. I’ve met people who are just trying to use me, I know the signs. So unless you’re a much better actress than I’m giving you credit for..?”

“None of this has been acting. I promise.”

“I believe you.” I hear knocking and someone calling out from the other end of the line. “I’m so sorry. They’re ready for me. I've got to go do soundcheck. Can I call you back later?”

“Soundcheck? Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. Bye, Jensen.”

“I’ll call you and explain later…or maybe tomorrow…I promise I’ll call you!”

The line falls silent and I sigh. I drag myself off the couch to make a sandwich. Just as I sit down to eat it my phone starts buzzing again. I glance at the caller ID and answer it with a smile.

“Hey, Stella!” I greet my best friend happily.

“Hey, Bestie! We still on for tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“You promised you’d help me with my wedding! I’m getting married in three weeks and there’s still so much to do!”

“Oh yeah! Of course! I can be there in say 30?”

“You’re the best, Bestie!”

“I know! See you soon!”

I hang up and finish eating my sandwich, clean up, throw on some warmer clothes and head out to catch the subway.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27

[shingekinohyrulewrites]

& They Were Roommates

Armin Arlert is in need of a roommate, and you just so happen to need a place to live. For some reason you cannot figure out, his best friend, Eren Jaeger, has a problem with you.

Read on AO3 here

SMUT AHEAD, MDNI, 18+ ONLY, CONTENT WARNINGS FOR :

Couch Sex, Unprotected Sex, Spitting, Creampie

Armin Arlert is an accomplished man.

After graduating as valedictorian in both high school and college, he decided to continue on with his higher education by going on to graduate school. With his Molecular Biology Bachelors Degree under his belt, he was moving on to get his Masters and, sometime in the future, his PhD. His alma mater, Eldia University, offered a great graduate program, and he decided to continue his education there.

He had been living in the same off-campus apartment since his freshman year. Since he excelled in high school, his tuition and living expenses were paid for, which meant he had his pick for where he wanted to live. Wanting to have the “real” college experience, he opted to choose a two bedroom apartment two miles from campus, and he took the bus to commute to class.

Annie Leonhart stumbled into his life during his second semester. They were both taking Chemistry, and they had been assigned as lab partners. Despite her stern demeanor, Armin managed to break through, and the two began dating halfway through the semester. Sophomore year she moved into his apartment, the extra bedroom being converted into a guest room. They graduated together, and she also decided to pursue a graduate degree like her boyfriend. Their first year was stressful, navigating much more difficult, specialized classes while balancing a job at the local pharmaceutical company.

Over the summer, Annie was presented with the opportunity to study in her family’s native country, Russia. Despite safety concerns, the top pharmaceutical company there had offered a chance for her to work there, gain experience, and attend classes at the local prestigious university.

It was a chance she couldn’t refuse.

However, this left Armin with a conundrum. Now that he was in graduate school, only his tuition was covered. Given that he was expected to have a job, his living expenses were now up to him. Since he had chosen a rather swanky apartment, he knew he would need some help with paying for the rent. He put out an ad in the university’s newspaper, hoping that a fellow student would be willing to reside with him.

The week before Annie was set to leave, Armin’s best friend, Eren Jaeger, heard about his situation and stopped by. The two had been best friends since they were kids, and he wanted to see if he could help out somehow.

“Hey, why don’t you let me move in?”

Armin’s nose had scrunched up, which immediately annoyed Eren.

“What’s wrong with me?” he asked, frowning deeply.

“No offense, Eren, but I need someone who is just as studious as me. I can’t afford any distractions right now.”

Eren opened his mouth to argue, but Armin held up a hand to silence him.

“Look, you’ve been done with school. You work as a personal trainer. You don’t have a set schedule, so you would be coming and going at unpredictable times. I need consistency.”

For some reason, Eren decided to take this personally.

He currently lived at home with his parents and half-brother, Zeke. Although he made good money as a personal trainer, it was hard to find an affordable place that he could afford by himself. He had been hoping that this would be a chance to finally move out, and the thought of living with his best friend made him excited.

“Why don’t you help me vet roommate options? I know it’s not moving in, but at least you have an idea of who you would see when you come hang out.”

For the next week, Armin arranged “interviews” when the both of them were free. They interviewed both undergraduate and graduate students, with Armin asking the questions while Eren studied them quietly. Unbeknownst to the blond, Eren was fuming. He hated every single option, finding stupid reasons for Armin to reject them. He had decided that, regardless of who Armin decided to go with, he would hate whoever his roommate ended up being.

Two days before Annie’s flight, Armin was freaking out. He still hadn’t found a suitable roommate, and Eren had been no help. The responses to the ad were basically zero now, and Armin hadn’t heard from friends about anyone who may need a room.

Then you showed up.

A mutual friend of yours who had a few classes with Armin had casually mentioned he needed a roommate, and you had immediately jumped them for details. You were finishing up your Masters Thesis, jumping between meetings with your advisor and your job. However, your roommate had dropped out, the stress of graduate school causing a nervous breakdown, leaving you essentially homeless.

Your friend gave you his contact information, and the two of you arranged to meet the day before Annie’s flight. You were greeted by him, relieved that he seemed kind. He introduced his best friend, Eren, who regarded you sternly. The both of you toured the apartment, with Armin explaining the amenities and breaking down the bills. He asked about your schedule, and was pleased to see that it essentially aligned with his. You both conversed about your respective Masters programs, and he had a feeling the two of you would get along great.

“How soon can you move in?”

“I can move in tomorrow!” you excitedly said.

“Sold!”

Eren watched the exchange with a scowl, rolling his eyes as Armin went over the lease paperwork and how to get a copy of the keys. The next morning, you moved in, settling into the second bedroom before leaving for work. The two of you had decided to go out for dinner to better get to know each other. Armin had dropped off Annie that morning, which meant he had time for you that night.

You immediately admired Armin. It was evident he was a hard worker, and you listened intently as he talked about the difficulties of his program and his job. You asked about his study habits, and were pleased to hear they were similar to yours. The two of you had similar personalities and senses of humor, and a part of you predicted that you would be getting along very well.

It took one week to fall into a routine. Since your schedules were almost the same, you were up at the same time, sharing a quick dinner before running out the door. Twice a week, your lunch time aligned, so you met for lunch. You would usually get home before him, which allowed you time to relax a bit before you started dinner just as he was getting home. He would ask about your day as you ate before watching a bit of TV and retiring to bed.

Eren came over the week after. It was Friday, and Armin had suggested a movie night. You had happily agreed, hoping to get to know Eren better. Armin talked about him often, letting you know that they had been friends since they were kids and that he had always been super protective of the blond.

“I was usually a target for the neighborhood kids,” he had admitted sheepishly.

You had offered to pay for the pizza that evening, and you asked Eren what he wanted on his. He shrugged, saying pepperoni was fine. His aloof personality put you off a bit, but you figured you were still a stranger to him, so he was weary.

While you waited for the food, Armin and Eren caught up. You sat to the side, scrolling through your phone silently while you quietly observed Eren. It was hard not to notice how attractive he was - he looked like he could be a model. His long, brown hair was pulled into a messy bun, just like the first time you had met him. A few pieces had slipped out, framing his face. Thick, dark eyebrows sloped over a pair of expressive turquoise eyes, who often eyed you with suspicion. His nose was slender but rounded at the tip, above a pair of full lips. Your eyes traced the sharp line of his jaw, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

The sound of someone knocking at the door pulled you from your thoughts.

Armin sat in between you two, eyes fixed on the TV screen. Eren hadn’t said a single word to you beyond thanks for paying for the pizza. For some reason, it really bothered you.

Meanwhile, Eren was absolutely annoyed with you. Armin had been gushing about you over text, going on and on about how you were essentially a perfect roommate. The two of you got along great, and his studies weren’t interrupted. When he had invited him over, Eren was intent on saying “thanks, but no thanks.” But Armin had mentioned how it was so important for them to get along, and Eren couldn’t say no to that.

His eyes watched you from the side. Your eyes kept flicking between the plate on your lap and the screen. You were wearing a thin tee shirt and sweats, your hair messily braided. Armin had mentioned you had been busier than usual with work that week, which explained your tired appearance. You weren’t cute or whatever.

That movie night opened a door. Eren came and went as he pleased, stopping by to hang out with Armin. Sometimes you cooked an extra plate for him. Other times, him and Armin went out for dinner, leaving you alone. He still kept you at arm’s length, never greeting you past a nod. Armin tried to push him to open up, but you saw how hard Eren resisted.

“It really wouldn’t kill you to get to know her.”

It had been a month since you moved in. The two were currently sitting in a booth at the local diner, waiting for their burgers. Eren rolled his eyes, taking a long sip of his drink.

“She’s really nice. I mean, she goes out of her way to include you at dinner and stuff.”

“Have you considered that she might be trying to break you and Annie up?”

Armin, bewildered, stared at Eren.

“What?”

“I mean, she’s pretty cozy with you.”

“You’re joking, right?”

The waitress brought their food then. Eren immediately began eating, keeping his eyes low as Armin continued to stare at him.

“She’s met Annie. I introduced her the first time I Facetimed her.”

Eren ignored him, keeping on with his meal.

“She’s given me advice on how to deal with a long-distance relationship. I don’t think anyone who wants to break up a relationship would do that.”

When he saw that Eren wasn’t going to respond, he sighed and picked up his burger. The rest of their meal was silent, with Armin dropping Eren off before returning home. Eren lay in bed, arms behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. What was it about you that bothered him so much?

You’re obviously trying to take Armin away from me.

He scowled, turning on his side. That had to be the reason. You knew how close the two of them were, and you wanted to pull Armin away. That had to be it. He saw how chummy the two of you were, and he figured you were just nice to him out of sympathy.

Whatever.

He rolled over to his other side, letting out a long sigh.

It had nothing to do with how hot he thought you were.

***

It was the first week of June, which meant the heat was starting to kick in.

The last week of classes was fast approaching, and you and Armin were thankful to have some reprieve before the Fall. Annie was set to return in mid-July, and you were excited to meet her. The couple had agreed to let you stay for the next school year, with all three of you set to graduate next June.

Armin’s week was chaotic, with back to back exams, as well as meetings with his thesis mentor. You, on the other hand, had it slightly easier, as you were taking one elective. Your final paper had been finished last week, as you had wanted to get an extra week to relax. Your boss had also been kind enough to give you Finals week off, which meant you had a week to do nothing.

Eren had been told about the end of the semester, and he realized he would have more time to spend with Armin. Normally, he would text him to give him a heads up, but he figured Armin would be home, so he stopped by. He whistled a tune as he walked up to your building, letting himself in with the gate code and climbing the stairs to your unit. Armin had given him a spare key for emergencies, so Eren let himself in.

The apartment was silent, sunlight streaming through the open windows. Normally, Armin would do his work at the dining room table, since it gave him the space he needed. Instead, it sat empty. Eren listened for any sounds coming from his room, but the entire place was silent.

“Armin?” he called, but no one responded.

He waited a minute, but figured that neither of you were home. Shrugging, he kicked off his shoes and left them by the door before laying down on the couch. He figured he could hang out while he waited for Armin to come home. The two of them could probably grab some dinner then.

Unbeknownst to him, you were home. You had slept in, going for a run before coming back and taking a shower. The heat, plus the exhaustion from working out, made you sleepy, and you decided to take a nap. It was still hot in your apartment, so you climbed into bed naked and fell asleep. When you woke up, you were feeling better but still feeling warm. You used the towel beside you to wipe some sweat before standing up and stretching.

Armin had texted you that he was working overtime, so not to worry about dinner for him. You had texted back you would order something for him, and he had sent you his order along with a smiling emoji. The apartment was yours, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt to walk around naked and pour yourself a cold glass of iced tea.

The apartment was filled with sun, and you made a mental note to shut the blinds to try and cool the place down. You yawned, pausing to stretch again in the living room. Your joints popped, satisfaction flooding you at the sound.

“Holy shit.”

You jumped, head whipping around towards the voice. Eren was sitting on your couch, eyes wide as he took in your very naked figure. You could feel your cheeks burning, and looked around desperately to cover yourself.

“What are you doing here?” you squeaked.

He didn’t reply, still staring at you.

“EREN!”

He jumped, shaking his head before hesitantly turning his head away.

“I, uh, thought Armin would be home. He told me you’re almost done with school.”

“Why didn’t you text him?!”

He shrugged.

“Oh my god, I am going to kill you.”

“Look, you’re really distracting. Can you put some clothes on?”

“This is my home! I have the right to be naked if I want to!”

He didn’t respond, his eyes continuing to take in every single curve. 

“Get out!”

Instead of listening to you, Eren stood up. He slowly strode over to you, and you backed up until you were pressed against the wall. The cool sensation had you relaxing slightly, the heat flaring through your body going down. One of Eren’s hands came to rest beside your head while the other came to rest gently on your waist.

“You have been such a fucking pain in my ass.”

You narrowed your eyes at his words and opened your mouth to argue with him but he shook his head, the hand on your waist coming up to cover your lips.

“Now, here you are, walking around naked as if to punish me.”

A dark chuckle escaped him as he shook his head.

“Were you just waiting for your chance to tease me like this?”

You shook your head as you narrowed your eyes further.

“Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me and I’ll stop.”

You hesitated, and he immediately took note of this.

“Oh, look at you, naughty girl.”

A quiet whine was muffled against his hand. He chuckled again, removing his hand and placing it carefully back on your waist.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

You looked up at him, all the times he had been dismissive of you the past few months playing in your head. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your response.

Fuck it.

You stood on your toes, gripping the back of his neck to pull him towards you. His lips met yours messily, your lips pressing against his as he sighed, allowing your tongue to slip in. The hand beside your head slid down to your hips, squeezing the flesh there before he bent down and picked you up.

“I’m going to fuck you on this couch, and you’re going to think of it everytime you sit here.”

He laid you down on the couch before hastily removing his clothes. You admired the muscles on his body, eyes trailing down his abs and following his happy trail down to his erect cock. He stroked himself, smirking as he watched you study him.

“Like what you see?”

“Shut up.”

He paused for a second before realization crossed his face.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom. Um, do you think Armin has any?”

“Eren,” you laughed. “It’s fine. I’m on birth control. Are you clean?”

He nodded, relief crossing his face. You opened your legs as he kneeled at the end of the couch, eyes half-lidded as he took in your naked body splayed out beneath him. He leaned down towards your core, close enough that you could feel his breath. You sucked in a breath as you waited to feel his mouth on you, but instead he spit on your core.

“Eren,” you gasped.

He shrugged.

“Gotta make sure my girl is ready.”

He slapped his cock against you before sliding it slowly along your slit. You moaned, wiggling your hips to try and get him to slip in. A low chuckle rumbled in his throat, and he finally obliged you, pushing in at an agonizing pace. He was very well endowed, and you winced slightly at how thick he was. The stretch took some getting used to, but he went slow, murmuring praise until his hips were pressed against yours.

Your left leg came to wrap around his hip while the other hung off the couch. He pulled his head back to kiss you for a moment while you adjusted to him. After a moment, you lifted your hips, your silent signal that you were ready to take him.

His head came to settle in the crook of your neck, groaning as he pulled out. You felt how heavy he was as he dragged himself out until just the tip was in before pushing back in. One hand came to grab the back of his head, pulling at his hair while the other began to claw at his back. His pace started slow, repeating the slow drag and harsh push before he started to pick up the pace. The couch creaked noisily underneath you as he fucked you faster, your moans getting louder and filling the living room. He turned his head to kiss and lick your neck, biting down lightly in an effort to mark you.

“Mine,” he slurred out. “You’re mine now.”

You lifted the leg on his hip higher, allowing him to hit a different angle. Stars began to dance in your vision, and you tried to warn him through moans.

“You want to cum, yeah? You think you deserve to? Walking around naked to fucking rile me up?”

“I’m s-sorry,” you stammered out. “I-I didn’t mean t-to, Eren.”

He grabbed your cheeks harshly, turning your face so you could look at him. His face was flushed, pleasure evident on his features as he kept on fucking you.

“Look me in the eyes while you cum. I want to remember what it looks like.”

His words were the nail in the coffin, and you moaned out his name loudly as you came around him. He groaned with you, relishing the feeling of you tightening around him as he kept on until he came too. You could feel him twitching inside of you, his cum flooding you and leaving you warm.

The both of you were quietly panting, trying to recover from the intense sex you had just had. After a moment Eren pulled away, one hand pushing your hair out of your face. He studied you, a trace of intimacy in his eyes, before he leaned in and kissed you. The kiss was so different from before, tender and full of affection. You didn’t want him to pull away, but he did so to pull out and sit back on the other side of the couch.

“Are you alright? Let me go get you some water.”

Your heart swelled as you watched him pad into the kitchen and return with a cold water bottle. He handed it to you, kissing you before he sat down again and took a long swig of his own bottle.

“Do you hate me?”

He sputtered on his water.

“No!” he exclaimed, eyes wide.

“Then why have you been so cold to me since I moved in with Armin?”

He looked away, cheeks flushing.

“I was, er . . . jealous of you. Armin and I have been best friends since we were kids, and I just didn’t want someone to take him away from me.”

A deep frown touched his brows as he stared at the coffee table.

“He’s my closest friend, and I care about him so much. I just . . . I didn’t want him taken away from me.”

You let out a quiet giggle as you scooted closer to him.

“You were just being protective of your friend. You’re like a golden retriever.”

“Hey! I am not!”

You laughed, ruffling his hair before snuggling into his side.

“Well, I guess we better come up with a story for Armin. But I think we should leave the couch out of it.”

It was Eren’s turn to laugh and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Great idea.”