#door. i say excuse me and she just stares at me and goes huh?

[munch-mumbles]

ive been a little upset about it all night so i need to write out all the things that happened at work today and are bugging me so i can TRY to get it out of my head and actually RELAX bc i just keep pacing in circles around it instead of just accepting it and moving on

[grimm-writings]

pathetic

…ft! dan heng, topaz, argenti, seele x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, pining, reader is oblivious as HELL!!!, seele’s slightly suggestive

…wc! 210 ; 319 ; 258 ; 305 = 1092

…notes! pathetic crushing… i cannot and will not ever stop vouching for pathetic pining in this house !!!!!!!

Dan Heng is painfully aware of how he looks right now.  If it wasn’t March giving him the biggest shit-eating grin, it was Himeko trying hard to look polite as she hides her giggles, or even Mr Yang pretending he isn’t paying attention.

You.  You really haven’t the slightest clue what you’re doing to him.

Every time you visit him in the Express’s archives, Dan Heng would light up.  He wouldn’t do that for any such person usually.  His excuse is that you bring him snacks.  You would never complain, saying that you’d take this Dan Heng over the one with a poker face and sarcastic bites, even if he is just as cute.

How can you say that so casually?

One particular visit, he couldn’t take your sweet words any longer.  His hand envelops yours before you could turn away from him.  The way you look back at Dan Heng makes his heart swell in ways he couldn’t comprehend.

He couldn’t get the words out.

His grip loosens and he lets you go, albeit with confusion on your face.

The door closes with a quiet goodbye, and Dan Heng throws his head back in frustration, staring at the decorated ceiling above him.

How can he go on like this...?

Topaz is not the kind of person to sit idly by waiting for something to happen.  She knows what she wants, and what she wants takes the shape of you.

You’re just so adorable!  Really, the way you act so clueless whenever you flirt with her is just so endearing!  How could she not melt?

…Well, it used to be easy.  Flirting, complimenting you, relishing in how you react; she even asked you out to dinner, and took you to the nicest place possible!  …But you’re still so shocked every time.  You still didn’t pick up on any of her advances.

For once, Topaz is at a complete loss.  What is she to do?  Grab you by the shoulders and shake you around telling you that she’s completely enamoured with everything about you, and though that includes your cluelessness, she can’t take much of it anymore?

She could nearly keel over.  Complete overkill.  She needs to be smart about this; clear, but also suave and mature.  Yeah, she can do this!

That’s how you find Numby making their way up to you, and there they drop a card in front of your feet.  They curiously look up at you as you read, although you could sense another pair of eyes watching you closely.

‘You’re cute!  Go out with me!  Love, Topaz!’

Topaz could nearly explode from joy watching your face heat up.  Finally.  Finally!  You get it now, don’t you?!

Her heart steps as you throw the card away and lean down and pet Numby.  “Oh, Numby.  Someone must have put you up to this for a prank, huh?  You should find your way back to Topaz!”

Said companion of the Warp Trotter has already fallen to her knees with her face in her hands.  You’re more work than she bargained for… but she’ll be struck down by an Aeon before she gives up on you!  Just watch her!

Argenti doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Truly, he’s making all the right moves.  He’s following examples from stories and myths, step by step.  It’s not his fault that they always end up going wrong somehow.  Maybe it’s just harsh luck…

He’s on one knee, taking your hand in his own.  Like you are royalty, he kisses the back of it, and looks up at you.

“Thank you for saving me!”  You beam, and Argenti’s brain freezes.

That’s how it all goes wrong, every single time.

He’s hopeless, how the knight of beauty stands up, turns around, and immediately feels his knees buckle and he’s down on the ground again.  Maybe he’ll stay like this for a few minutes when he finishes crying.

He feels you kneel at his side, and prod against his armour.  “Argenti…?” your sweet, sweet voice calls out to him quietly.

“Worry not.  I am simply fighting the dirt in your honour.  Keeping the worms off of you.”

You pause.  He wouldn’t dislike being buried here like this.  Then he hears your confused laughter.  “Alright then!  Thank you very much, sir knight!”

You pet his hair and stand up again, making your way back to a safe zone.

Yes, Argenti thinks, I will stay here and fend off the insects for you, my dear.  And that is the only reason why I can’t move…

He certainly refuses to believe it’s your patience and kindness.  How silly would it be for a knight of beauty to become so immobilised by it!  How silly indeed…

Seele encourages you to stand up again.  A simple sparring doesn’t do too much harm every now and again.  She isn’t Luka; she won’t beg you for a match, but practice is good, and practice is better if it’s with a friend.

Haha.  Keep telling yourself that, Seele. 

Is it obvious yet she really wants you to just defeat her already?  She knows you have it in you.  Yeah, you’re more on the air-headed side, but you’re a reliable teammate!  Maybe it’s the fact you refuse to actually hurt her…

You apologise again when you’re back on your feet.  She doesn’t want any apologies, dang you!  Can’t you see she’s just desperate to get you to at least brush your knuckles against hers as her scythe comes in conflict with your blade?!

…So that does it.  In her mental ramblings, you manage to get her on the ground beneath you.  Your thighs cage her under you as you push her down.  Aeons, your smile is so wide.

“I got you!” you exclaim.

Seele can’t help the small laugh that escapes her.  She hopes that her face is only red to you because of your fighting.  You’re so close to her face.  You could just kiss her right now…

“Yep, you really did!” is what comes out, shakier than she would have liked.  How did you get her so weak?  You’re not even making a big deal over straddling her like this…

You shimmy off her eventually, offering your hand out.  “Time for lunch?”

Seele doesn’t move for a few seconds, before letting you pick her up.  If not a kiss, she can at least get some quality time.  The way you smile at her is enough for her.

…How you pushed her down will definitely haunt her dreams for the next week or so, though.

[princessbrunette]

brother’s best friend!rafe is on my mind every minute of every day 😵‍💫 fucking in the most obvious places & reader is trying her absolute best to not make a sound, but rafe isn’t having it - he literally goes to POUND TOWNNN & the moans just pour out her poor mouth !!! :(

also, can i be clawdeen wolf anon? (i love monster high❤️‍🔥).

i misread the request i know i know pls

🎀🩰♡🌸୭

“i swear, you wanna get caught, don’t you? yeah, that shit gets you off, doesn’t it?” rafe pants, his dresser banging against the wall rhythmically from where you’re sat on top of it, his hips thrusting into you. he hadn’t even shut his bedroom door.

you’d been outside with sarah all day, lounging by the pool. rafe wasn’t that discreet about his attraction towards you, wandering out onto the the porch to stare you down in your little bikini. sarah had quickly shooed him away, yelling something about him being a perv which he didn’t deny — turning back around in disinterest with an eye roll, sipping his drink as he meanders back inside. but now, after you’d told her you had to grab something from your bag in her room — she’d left you to her own devices inside tannyhill.

“no! we — we can’t, i feel— mmph— feel terrible!” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he destroys your little cunt, bikini bottoms pushed to the side, toes curling at his lower back.

“really? really. ‘cos to me it seems like you feel pretty good.” he whispers, smirk threatening to twitch at his lips as he switches over to rolling his lips languidly instead of thrusting incessantly. your jaw drops, forehead falling to press to his shoulder and you watch him fuck into you, whining as quietly as your body will allow you.

“she can’t know.” you reiterate in a shameful whisper, trembling when his hand presses between you, thumbing at your clit.

“wont know unless you tell ‘er.” he pants, speeding up again chasing his own high. “hey, you’re the one that likes sneakin’ around so much maybe we should tell her huh? — oh saraaaah!” he calls fairly loudly, turning his face to the open door knowing his sister was outside, likely not to hear him.

you gasp anyway, slapping at his chest making him lose his rhythm and he chuckles boyishly, grabbing you a little tighter so you stop fighting him. “you’re fine.” he reassures, lips hovering over yours as he continues to fuck you, about to kiss you.

“the fuck do you want rafe?” sarah’s voice is suddenly not far at all, half way up the stairs and your eyes widen in panic, shoving him away and jumping off the dresser. he presses his lips together in irritation, yanking his shorts up, sure to tuck his erectjon the right way, so that it wasn’t apparent. as her footsteps draw closer to the already open door, rafe grabs you by the shoulders and stuffs you behind it — opening the door fully to conceal you. she arrives, and he comes up with some bullshit excuse, saying he didn’t need to ask her what he was going to ask before.

she asks if he’s seen you and he shrugs, probably way too exaggerated and theatrical with his mouth turned downwards.

“why the hell would i know where she is, huh?”

sarah’s eyes subconsciously glance around his room. “she said she was coming upstairs to get something from her bag. did you say something to her? it’s bad enough you stare at her all the time like a total creep, but i swear to god rafe if you said anything to—”

“the fuck are you pointing fingers for? i said i haven’t seen her.” he argues back, more convincing this time. “last time i did see her in the house, she was saying she didn’t feel too good. maybe you just missed her.” he explains slowly, calmly. you barely breathe behind the door.

the explanation wasn’t quite adding up, and sarah’s brows furrow, eyeing her older brother. he stares back, knowing if he looks away it’ll be a cause of concern. she’s distracted by his overall appearance, the usually well groomed boy stood before her a little sweaty and red in the face, hair dishevelled and stuck to his forehead.

“whats up with you?” she asks in disgust and he rolls his eyes, waving her away.

“nothing is up with m— get out of my room, go.” he walks her back and she rolls her eyes, storming away.

“i’m not in your room, idiot.”

“shutup.”

he watched her disappear before slowly closing the door, turning to you with a growing smirk.

“i’m going to hell.” you whisper.

“well until then, she thinks you’ve headed home so… guess i got you to myself for the rest of the evening.” he closes in on you, pressing your back to the door and cupping you over your bikini bottoms once more, free hand pawing at your tit. “gotta be quiet though, alright? stakes are higher now. don’t wanna ruin all the fun.”

🎀🩰♡🌸୭

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 58

part 1 | part 57 | ao3

@steddie-island said i wasn't allowed to cut this lol. cw: angst, canon typical horror, mentions of minor character death

“Lucas called me a ghost today.”

Steve almost laughs, bitter and sharp. Sure. Why not? What’s one more ghost in his passenger seat?

He doesn't really want to talk to her right now, if he's honest. It's been fifteen minutes and she still hasn't apologized for trying to rob him, or explained where they're going, or what spooked her, or why this car ride was so urgent that he had to risk his job for it — a job he actually needs, considering his, well, everything. She's hardly said anything beyond the occasional "turn here" or "next left" while sulking with her forehead pressed against the window.

But he can tell she has something she needs to get off her chest, so he swallows his annoyance and offers, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she says back. Doesn't elaborate.

He gives her another minute to gather her words, watches her open and close her mouth a few times in his periphery, but nothing comes out. She scoffs at herself and abruptly changes the subject. “Eddie was being extra… well, extra today.”

“Was he?” Steve asks, his bones itching under his skin. He doesn't want to talk about Eddie. Doesn't want to think his name.

“Yeah, he, uh- he was kinda manic? He was, like, running all over the cafeteria and starting shit with Jason Carver...” And he's only half-listening, anger simmering as she goes on and on, because she promised that Dustin didn't put her up to this. Said that this wasn't some bullshit excuse to get him to talk about Eddie or hang out with Eddie or think about Eddie or kiss and make up with fucking Eddie, and now she's just talking about him, and it-

And it hurts; god, it still just hurts—

"....Then he started rambling about how he can’t wait to get the hell out of here when he graduates.”

Searing-stabbing-burning-sharp. Steve clutches at the flare of pain in his chest, the crushed soda-can feeling where his heart's supposed to be. His head pounds. He follows her next direction onto a winding, tree-lined road, the canopy suffocating overhead, and his skin feels too dry — too tight, too small, shrink-wrapping him inside of it, because he knows where they are now. Knows the tilt of the rusted lamp shade, the shape of the weather brick paths. He's tasted the metal tang of this stop sign in his nightmares.

Fuck. Fuck.

"Cool," he grits out as he drives through the cemetery gates. Past stone and wrought iron, past the empty central fountain. He hasn't been here since July. “Good for him.”

“Steve-"

“Why are you telling me this?" he snaps. He throws the car in park under an old oak and turns to glare at her, barking a frustrated, "Huh?"

Immediately, he feels bad for raising his voice. Feels even worse for the way she flinches away. The naked fear on her face, her hand reaching for the door. He takes a long, deep breath and lets it out slowly through his nose. “Sorry. Sorry. Just-" There's a leak inside him somewhere; some infected, gaping hole, and his stupid heart keeps pumping all his blood into the wound. "Why are you-?”

“Look,” she says sharply, "I know it sucks. To talk about him." She's staring at the rows of headstones up ahead, her face gone steely with determination, her shoulders squared, her big eyes wide and a little wet when she turns to meet his gaze. “But whatever you were— whatever happened, it just… it really messed him up.”

Good. "You sound like Dustin."

"Maybe Dustin had a point."

"Since when?"

She throws her hands up, nostrils flaring. "I'm trying to tell you that I think he still cares!"

“Yeah? He’s got a seriously fucked up way of showing it if so!”

“Yeah, well some of us don’t know how to show it!”

And oh.

Oh.

Silence blankets them like dust. Eyes locked; harsh breaths. This has nothing to do with him and Eddie, does it?

Lucas called me a ghost.

Steve sighs and slumps forward, his forearms on the wheel, his chin resting on his wrist. The late afternoon sun is warm through the glass, and his head gives another nasty throb as he looks out over the hill, at the polished stones glinting in the golden hour rays.

His dad is buried here.

A lot of people are.

“Hey,” he murmurs, rolling his neck to look at her. The skin under her eyes is red. "Sorry for yelling."

She sniffs quietly. "Me, too."

He reaches over and gives her hand a quick squeeze, keeping his voice low and gentle. "You know you can just talk to me, right? Max, talk to me. Please.”

Her bottom lip quivers. “It’s nothing, okay?” She sinks down in her seat, crossing her arms to shield herself. “Shit’s just been… it’s just been weird all week. Like- like bad weird, and I don't know if I'm just going crazy, or— I mean, maybe Ms. Kelley's right, maybe's it's just— but it feels like…”

"Like what?"

She holds a hand out flat in front of her; flips her wrist over slowly so her palm faces the sky.

Steve's blood runs cold. He thinks of his own nightmares: the weird visions, the headaches, the persistent haunted feeling.

"I don't know anything for sure," she insists, rushing to reassure him before he can fully start to panic. "Seriously, don't freak out; I haven't, like, seen any gates or anything, it's just— bad dreams. Nose bleeds. I don't know." She hoists her backpack onto her shoulder. "I thought coming here might help."

He catches her by the arm, raking his eyes over her face, looking for any signs of danger. "Is there anything I can do?"

She shakes her head no and tugs free of his grip, and then she's slipping out of the car, letting the door fall shut behind her, and Steve watches her crest the hill while sirens wail inside his head.

—

part 59

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[lackadaisicallizard]

Nicknames

“Can you pass me that book?” Regulus points to the text sitting next to James. 

“Are we going to do anything more interesting today?” James’ voice is bordering on whiney as he passes it across the table. 

“I told you I was studying. You were the one that decided to grace me with your ever annoying presence.” He opens the book and starts flipping through the pages. 

“You know you love it,” James’ teasing tone isn’t at all subtle. 

They’ve been playing this game for months now. The game where James flirts overtly and Regulus pretends that he doesn’t flirt back. Where they find excuses to spend time together. Where Regulus lets James interrupt his study session when it’s very clear he has no intention of letting him actually study. 

“Come on!” There’s no reply from the younger boy who would look entirely indifferent if it wasn’t for the small crease between his brows that indicates that he’s not doing a very good job at blocking James out. “Reggie.” 

He looks up then, eyebrows now knitted into a thick line. “No.” 

A smirk. “What?” 

“You are not calling me Reggie.” 

“Why? Sirius does.” 

“Sirius is my brother and incredibly annoying.” 

James’ smirk turns into a grin. “Oh so you don’t find me annoying then?” 

“I told you I did less than thirty seconds ago.” 

“You’re such a bad liar.” 

Regulus rolls his eyes in the way that makes James’ stomach do a little flip and goes back to ‘ignoring’ him. 

James is silent for approximately five seconds. “You can give me a nickname if you’d like.” 

“I’m good, thanks.” 

“Seriously, you can call me whatever you want.” 

“Noted.” 

“You can even call me tonight if you like.” 

That stops him. It also makes him look up and meet James’ eyes. “Really, Potter?” 

James raises his eyebrows, smiling again. “Didn’t like that one?” 

“You’re a walking, cliche.” 

James laughs. “So is that a no to the nickname then?”

A pause. “I’ll think about it.” 

— 

A week later and James walks into the Slytherin common room. 

“Potter, to what do we owe this honour?” Barty asks, not even bothering to get up from where’s he’s laying across Evan’s lap on one of the sofas, spinning his wand between his fingers. 

Pandora is reading cross legged in an armchair and looks up with a warm smile that contrasts her brother’s suspicious one. 

“Hi guys. Have you seen Regulus?” 

“Let him out of your sight for once, huh?” Evan asks with raised eyebrows. 

“Yes. Well, no- I mean. He’s not always-“ 

“Eloquent as ever, I see,” Barty laughs and Pandora shushes him. 

“Oh stop it you two,” she looks at James, “he’s upstairs. Sometimes he needs to escape from these idiots.” 

She shushes them again as they start to argue and they settle back down with a grumble. 

James nods. “Right, well do you think he’d mind if I drop something to him? I accidentally took his quill from the library the other day and I’m not sure I want to find out what happens if he thinks I stole it.” 

Evan shrugs. “He’s your boyfriend, Potter. Do what you want.” 

Everything stops. 

James can hear his heart beating in his ears. 

Pandora’s smile has dropped. “Are you okay James?” 

James takes a deep breath and nods his head, blinking so the room starts moving again. “Yep, all good. I’ll go deliver this quill to my… boyfriend.” 

The word comes out slowly as James gauges their reactions, waiting for one of them to laugh at him, to laugh at their joke. 

Instead they stare at him. “Okay…” Evan says eventually. 

James doesn’t remember walking through the common room or up the stairs. He doesn’t remember knocking on Regulus’ door or opening it to find him sitting cross legged on his bed, book opened in his lap and beautiful eyes wide in surprise at the sudden intrusion. He doesn’t remember anything before the words that fall out of his mouth. 

“Why did Evan just call me your boyfriend?” 

Recognition appears in his eyes, then and his mouth curls up into a knowing smile. “You told me I could call you anything.” 

“I was talking about a nickname, Regulus.” 

“And?” 

James has to stop himself from looking at the camera that’s surely filming him right now. This can’t be an actual conversation he’s having, surely? 

“Boyfriend is not a nickname. It’s a thing.”  He moves closer to Regulus’ bed as he talks, his words faster than usual. “It’s something a person is, it’s… romantic.”

Regulus blinks before putting down his book and getting up off his bed so they’re standing across from each other. “Thank you for defining the word boyfriend, Potter. And for the clarification.” His tone is definitely sarcastic but James has no idea how to respond.

“You’re welcome,” is what comes out. James kicks himself for it. 

“So are you saying you don't want me to call you that any more?” Regulus’ facial expression seems neutral but there’s a hint of something else there. 

“No,” the word escapes before he even realises he’s said it. “I mean yes. I mean-“ he stops and takes a breath before meeting Regulus’ eyes. They’re softer than usual. “Are you sure?” 

Regulus hums before he smiles and takes a step forward, reaching out to place his hand on James’ cheek and momentarily causing him to stop breathing. “It suits you, you know? Your new nickname, I mean.” 

James lets out a noise that sounds startlingly close to impatience before he finds himself leaning in, and then Regulus’ lips are on his and his hands are in his hair and he forgets any name he’s ever had for a second, a minute, an hour, an indeterminate amount of time before they pull apart again. 

He’s smiling now as his heart beats quickly in his chest, and as the younger boy smiles right back James only has one question:

“So can I call you Reggie now?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Oh,” James pouts and Regulus rolls his eyes before reaching down to take his hand, lacing their fingers together. 

“I guess you’ll just have to settle for boyfriend.” 

James’ eyes move from their hands to Regulus’ face. “Oh.” His voice is softer now, light. “I think I can make that work.” 

[steddiealltheway]

@steddie-week day three: first kiss

The fruity four are sprawled out on Steve’s living room floor. They’re each not too sure about how they got here listening to one of Steve’s tapes that was deemed “acceptable” drone on as Eddie taps out a rhythm on Steve’s wrist and Steve’s head lays on Robin’s thigh. Nancy is definitely laying next to Robin but Eddie can’t see her from where he’s laying. But he’s also a bit distracted by the side profile of Steve Harrington.

He seems lost in thought as he worries his bottom lip. Eddie isn’t prepared for him to speak his thoughts. “Who was everyone’s first kiss?”

Eddie’s heart thuds in his chest at the question, but Nancy is answering before he can fully panic. “Steve Thomas.”

Robin snorts, “Always had a thing for Steves, Nance?”

“Not anymore luckily,” Steve jokes easily and Nancy laughs. “Robin?”

Eddie sits up on his elbows to watch as Robin smiles widely. “Tommy Hagan.”

“What?!” Steve yells sitting up as a look of horror crosses over Nancy’s face.

Robin practically cackles as they all stare down at her. “It was in elementary school! I doubt he remembers, but I think that’s the first time I really knew I didn’t like boys.”

“Surely that can’t count then,” Nancy comments.

Robin shrugs with a sad smile then says, “Then that means I’m at…” she trials off and holds up her hand to make a zero.

Steve shoots Eddie a look that means trouble, but Eddie’s immediately on board. But before either of them can say anything Nancy offers, “I could always help with that problem.”

Robin goes through a million emotions before settling on confusion. “Huh?”

Eddie shoots Steve a look of is this really happening right now?

Nancy stands up and holds her hand out to Robin. “How about a date first?”

Robin takes her hand after Steve nudges her and is quickly dragged away by Nancy who winks at Steve and Eddie over her shoulder. Robin shoots them a look of pure happiness and panic as she leaves the room.

The front door shuts and Eddie can’t help but fall back and laugh. “And here we were thinking they needed help.”

“I’m surprised Nance didn’t do it sooner,” Steve admits with a smile as he looks down at Eddie.

Eddie’s laughter halts when he sees the questioning look on Steve’s face. “You know, you never told us who your first kiss was,” Steve says gently.

Eddie deflects, “And you never told us yours.”

Steve smiles at him and looks off, “Emma Handler, third grade on the playground. She immediately ran away and told people I gave her cooties.”

“Very romantic,” Eddie says with a smile, hoping Steve won’t ask him again.

“And yours…” Steve presses on.

Eddie looks at him and sighs. He does the same as Robin and holds up his hand making a zero.

Steve stares at him incredulously, “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously,” Eddie says looking anywhere but at him. He stays staring at the ceiling for what feels like an eternity as Steve continues to stare at Eddie as if he’s grown a second head.

Eddie nearly makes a lame excuse about needing to go to get out of the awkward situation when Steve finally says, “Hey, Eddie?”

Eddie hums in response.

“You know, I’ve never really kissed a guy, so I guess I really haven’t had my first kiss when it comes to that,” Steve says now fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

Eddie looks at him and can’t help but ask, “Is this some weird way of you trying to make me feel better?”

Steve huffs and then laughs. “No, no, it-it’s not that,” Steve stutters uncharacteristically which causes Eddie to sit up and really look at him.

He looks… nervous. Weirdly so as the same look of contemplation crosses over his face. He finally seems to make peace with whatever he’s thinking as he looks at Eddie. Then, his mouth opens and closes and then opens again to finally say, “I’m just saying that I wouldn’t mind sharing that first with you. If that’s something you’d want! Not saying that you would want that, but I’m just… throwing out the offer….” Steve finishes lamely while running a hand through his hair.

Eddie just stares at him. He can’t help it. Never in a million years did he think Steve Harrington would be offering to be his first kiss - nervously. Eddie pinches his arm and winces. Yeah, not dreaming.

“Sorry, man, we can just forget about that. Never happened,” Steve says nervously and stands up. “Do you want a beer or something? Or food. We can order something or I could even make something if you wanted that-”

“Steve…” Eddie says cutting him off from his nervous ramble that reminds him an awful lot of Robin. “I’d like that. The kiss,” he corrects quickly, “Not the food or beer or… actually maybe after but…” Eddie clears his throat. Now it’s his turn to be awkward and nervous. Maybe it’s just the cliche of all first kisses.

Eddie stands up and slowly makes his way to Steve, then they hover not knowing exactly what to do which is dumb because Steve must have done this a million times…

Steve’s hands come up slowly and cup Eddie’s jaw, so Eddie follows his instincts and lets his hands come up to rest on Steve’s back. Steve’s eyes dip down to Eddie’s lip then search his eyes. “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

Eddie nods as his eyes flicker to Steve’s lips. “Okay,” Eddie says already moving forward.

They close the distance gently in a chaste kiss that absolutely rocks Eddie’s entire world. Steve pulls back, and Eddie thinks that that’ll be it, they’ll pat each other on the back and agree to never talk about it again.

But then Steve kisses him again. And again. And again…

By the time they’re pulling away, they’re both breathless, Steve’s hair is a wreck, lips swollen, and Eddie’s sure he doesn’t look much better.

He knows why all the ladies went so crazy over King Steve in high school now.

With that thought, he pulls away and puts some distance between them. Steve Harrington. The lady killer and chick magnet. Not at all in Eddie’s league or even batting for it. Christ, what was he thinking?

“Eddie?“ Steve asks gently.

Eddie turns away and tries his best to collect himself.

“Hey, are you okay? I’m so sorry if that was horrible for you, and I would’ve stopped but I thought… I’m so sorry, Eddie,” Steve says sounding absolutely heartbroken.

Eddie laughs humorlessly, “It wasn’t horrible, Steve. It was… shit, it was incredible. But I… I didn’t think it through that that would be the first and last time.”

“I don’t understand,” Steve says.

Eddie sighs and turns to him. “I don’t want that to be the last time I get to kiss you.”

Steve looks entirely confused before he finally seems to grasp what Eddie is saying. “Oh, shit,” Steve says looking horrified.

“Yeah, shit,” Eddie says and quickly starts to rush past Steve. “I’ll see myself out.”

He gets about two steps before Steve’s hand wraps around his wrists and holds him in place. “I meant, ‘shit, I should’ve just copied Nancy,’” Steve says gently.

Eddie turns to him slowly and looks him in the eyes. What?

“I thought I made it clear before, but the thought of kissing you just wiped away my ability to function. But Eddie, I want to go out with you. Like… a real date and more if you’re down.”

Eddie stares at him in disbelief and says the first thing he can think of, “You’re telling me I could’ve said ‘at least buy me dinner first’ and it would’ve worked?”

Steve stares at him for a few moments then bursts out into laughter. “I’m serious!” Eddie says entirely non seriously while laughing.

He leans in and kisses him gently then breaks away to laugh again which is apparently something he’s allowed do now. Steve grabs him and pulls him into a hug as his laughter dies down. “You never answered my question, you know.”

Eddie pulls back and smiles. “In case it wasn’t clear before, yes, I would love to go on a date with you and maybe more. But for now, I would really love to settle for that beer and food you were talking about earlier. And maybe another kiss…”

Steve cuts him off with a kiss before Eddie can say anything else.

And yeah, he could really get used to this.

[jasmines-library]

hi!

So I was thinking that their little sister is lesbian (if you're comfortable with this kind of stuff though) but she doesn't know. So she's 15 and one day a guy tries to flirt with her in a dinner, but she's just staring in complete fascination at a cute girl behind her. And after the guy goes away Dean calls her out. After she kind of goes on a date with the girl and some homophobic dude comes walking past whilst they're kissing and says some pretty mean stuff. And when her brothers find out they comfort her.

Thank you so much and I wish you a very good day and happy new year!

Unconditional

Note: I literally love this request as a gay girly myself. This was super cute to write!

Warnings: Homophobia but Sam and Dean to the rescue, homophobic slurs and swearing. Please read with warning that this is fairly heavy and may be triggering although I have tried to keep it non-explicit...but it's also a little cheesy too..

Word Count: 1.6k

⛤ SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST ⛤

You knew that the guy beside you was trying to talk to you. His low voice but through the chatter as he leaned on the coffee-stained counter beside you, just a tad too close for your liking. He had sauntered over and was trying to drop compliments, but you didn’t really hear anything he was saying. You were completely fixated on the girl sitting in a booth across the room. She was with her two friends but you couldn’t take your eyes off of her and the way she smiled with not only her rosy lips but also with her eyes. You admired the lilt of her voice as she spoke with a grin and the way her hair, which was tucked neatly behind her ears to show off her face, cascaded over her shoulders. She was beautiful and you were in awe. Then, her gaze shifted away from you and her eyes met yours. Before you could turn away quickly, she blushed and gave you a small smile to hold your gaze.

“So, what do you say?” The boy asked you expectantly, though you were still too entranced to take a notice. 

Dean cleared his throat and nudged you from under the table with his knee. “Y/N?”

You tore your gaze away from the girl and snapped towards your brother who indicated to the boy with his head.

“Sorry- What?”

“I said, ‘Did you maybe want to go out sometime?’”

You felt awful, because you had every intention of answering the guy to send him away, but you found your attention shifting towards the girl across the diner again. 

“Sorry, pal.” Sam told the guy, “I don’t think she’s very interested.”

The boy nodded and left, slightly deflated that his attempts had failed. 

“What the hell was all that about, kid?” Sam furrowed his brow. “What’s got you so distracted?”

Dean, who was sitting opposite you, craned his head to follow your eyeline, where he spotted the girl you had been fascinated by. He turned to you with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“I think I’ve got her all figured out, Sammy.” He pointed to the girl. “She is so checking that girl out.”

“What?! Am not.”

“Are too. I know that look when I see it.”

You huffed and sunk down in your chair. 

It was then that her and her friends shuffled out of the booth and made their way towards the door. As they passed you and your brothers she smiled at you shyly. You watched as she pushed open the door and the bell chimed signalling that she had left, but you continued to watch her in awe through the window. 

“Are you just gonna sit there and stare?” Sammy raised an eyebrow. 

“Huh?”

“Go get her number.” Dean urged, ushering you out of the booth. Your cheeks flushed as you chased quickly after her.

The sunlight hit your face as soon as you stepped out of the diner and you made your way slowly over to her. She smiled brightly as she saw you approaching and excused herself away from her friends for a moment.

“Hi” She greeted, “I was wondering if you were going to come and speak to me.”

“Hey.” You smiled “I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to finally put a name to your pretty face.” She said before giving you her name. 

“So um…” You swallowed thickly trying to conjure up the courage to ask her for her number. This was something you had never done before… sure, you had never really shown much interest in guys, and you knew that every time you glanced at one of the women on the front of one of your brothers magazines, or spotted a pretty girl walking down the street you couldn’t help but feel that something was different, but you were never able to place it until now. You had thought it was because you never had time to spend hanging out with people outside of hunting, but now that Dean had pointed it out, you knew that he was onto something. You couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach that you felt when you looked at the girl before you, and back in the diner you had been so desperate to talk to her that you found your thoughts drifting to what it would be like, however now it was actually happening it was like your mind was betraying you because you couldn’t think of anything to say as your body froze. You took a deep breath and cleared your mind. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?”

She looked at you with a look of pure happiness that made you melt. “I would love to.”

~

The two of you sat inside the diner again a few days later. The two of you had been texting back and forth constantly after exchanging numbers and you couldn’t contain your excitement. You had taken her to the cinema across town before you two made you way to the diner. She looked even more beautiful than the time you had first seen her as she sat across from you, sipping her milkshake which you had purchased for her with Dean’s plagiarised credit card. The two of you spent hours talking to each other and laughing at the other's jokes and you barely noticed the sun setting and the busy diner thinning out, she had even reached out to grab your hand from across the table which she kept there until her it was eventually time to leave. 

You walked her back to her house, slightly disheartened when you finally reached it and the pair of you paused just in front of it. 

Reaching out, she tucked a loose piece of your hair behind your ear. The closeness made your stomach flutter and you blushed. Suddenly her rosy lips were on yours. You leaned into the kiss, kissing her back with the same keen gentleness that she had initiated it with. When she finally pulled away, the kiss leaving you breathless, the two of you let out a small chuckle only to have the moment ruined by a passer by who glared at the two of you in disgust before rolling his eyes.

“Great, just what this town needs. More dykes.” His words cut deep and your heart sank as they crushed everything you had been working to accept was okay about yourself. The longer you looked at him, the more you recognised him. It was the boy from the diner. The one that had tried to ask you out but you ignored. It seemed he also seemed to recognise you too.

“You’re the girl from the diner.” He started shaking his head. “No wonder you weren’t interested you fucking freak.”

“Excuse you?” your date asked, clenching her fists and taking a step forward. 

“I said you’re disgusting.” He spat. “That shouldn’t even be allowed.”

“Listen here-” She took another step forward, but you put out a hand to stop her. The last thing the two of you needed now was for this to become a fight. 

“Don’t. Just leave it.”

She stepped back and with one last huff the boy left with his head held high.  

“I’m sorry-” 

“It’s not your fault.” She said as you looked at your shoes. 

“I know… but I can’t help but feel responsible.”

“Well you shouldn’t.” She told you, cupping your face and cutting off any more of your protesting with another kiss to your lips before turning up the steps to her house. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

~

Sam and Dean were still awake when you shuffled in through the door, trying to poorly plaster a smile on your face. Of course they were, they wouldn’t sleep until they knew you were safely in bed at the motel. Sam was typing away on his laptop at the table while Dean had sprawled himself out on the bed with a box of pizza and was watching shitty tv. 

“There she is!” Dean said when he saw you in the doorway. “How was it?”

You shrugged, trying to keep up a happy facade. “It was good.”

“What’s the matter, kiddo?” Sam frowned as he shut his laptop and crossed the room to sit on the bed. 

“Nothing.”

“Y/N.”

“I told you. It’s nothing.”

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Did things not work out between the two of you?” Dean asked.

“No. No. It’s not that.”

“Then what?” your eldest brother pressed.

“Someone said something.” You admitted, eyes finally brimming with tears that you had tried so desperately hard to keep from escaping. The boys words had made you feel so... wrong. “The boy from the diner. Called us names. Said we were ‘freaks’”

“He what?” Dean clenched his fists, but Sam shut him down with one look as you began to cry. 

“Oh kid” Sam said, pulling you close to his chest. “You’re not a freak. Don’t listen to him.”

“But I am, Sammy.” 

“No.” Dean shut you down quickly. “Don’t say that Y/N. You are perfect just the way you are.”

Sam agreed. “Exactly. Who cares what that guy thinks, Y/N?”

“Me?” you sniffled “I don’t want people to treat me differently-”

“We’re not gonna treat you differently. You think we’d really do that, Kid? We’re your brothers.” Sam asked gently. 

“Exactly. You don’t see us treating Charlie any differently, do you?”

“No.” you moved your head away from Sam’s shirt which was now covered in your tears to see Dean moving closer to you. 

“We love you unconditionally, sweetheart.” He said and he wrapped you up in his arms, placing his chin atop your head. “Nothing you could tell us is ever going to change that. Nothing.”

[pippytmi]

Your ennemies to lovers prompts make me think so much about kacy during S1. I appreciate all of your Kacy fics and love the emotions you manage to create with your writing. I was wondering if you would be interested in writing a story that combines prompt 4 and 6?

It is an unspoken rule that when the DIA is involved in a case, Lucy needs to be kept far, far away.

At least, that’s how Jesse rationalizes trying to keep Lucy away from DIA Officer Whistler. He cites repeated complaints to Tennant (undeserved ones), numerous whisper-shouting matches in the halls (all Whistler’s fault), and ending in the middle of tense stare-downs more often than not (obviously biased). So really, it’s a no-brainer that Lucy indignantly ignores Jesse’s pleas and makes it her mission to give as good as she gets.

“Good morning, DIA Officer Whistler,” Lucy tells her sweetly this morning, having been waiting outside the elevator just to catch the briefly-perplexed, then immediately-annoyed expression on Whistler’s face.

“Special Agent Tara,” Whistler says curtly. “I was told I would be speaking with Agent Boone today.”

“He’s busy,” Lucy says. “Small mishap with his car.” (She’d let the air out of his tires, actually, just in preparation for today).

Whistler’s expression does not waver. “I’ll speak with Special Agent Tennant, then,” she says.

“Or,” Lucy says, following as Whistler begins to stalk through the bullpen, “you can discuss the case with me. I haven’t actually been briefed on why you’re here, but if you give me two minutes…”

Whistler comes to an abrupt stop, and Lucy nearly knocks them both over; Whistler has to grip Lucy’s arm just to keep her from falling on her face, and when Lucy meets Whistler’s gaze, she sees—strangely—a kind of uncharacteristic apprehension that Whistler never has. Whistler drops Lucy’s arm like she has been burned, and her voice goes quiet when she says, 

“It really would make more sense to discuss clearance with your boss. It’s a time-sensitive matter.”

“Oh.” Lucy tries to hide her confusion, but it’s a halfhearted attempt at best; usually, the back-and-forth with Whistler is inevitable (and maybe even slightly thrilling). Whistler never just…gives up. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” Whistler says, already heading towards Jane’s office with renewed intensity. “Excuse me.”

Lucy is practically rooted in her spot, bewildered, and she watches as Tennant beckons Whistler inside before shutting the door. “Huh,” she says aloud. “Weird.”

“What’s weird?” Kai comes in carrying coffee, and he freezes in place as he, too, realizes what Lucy is looking at. “Damn. DIA’s here already? We haven’t even been briefed on the case yet.”

“Apparently it’s ‘time-sensitive’,” Lucy says, complete with air quotes and everything. “Think this means Whistler will actually give us something for once?”

“I’m not holding my breath,” Kai yawns, offering Lucy her cup before he wanders over to his desk. “Hey, where’s Jesse?”

(Lucy decides not to incriminate herself by answering that).

By the time Whistler and Jane emerge, both Kai and Lucy are pretending to be working and Jesse is just barely bursting through the doors. Jane doesn’t comment on either; instead, she waves her arms to get everyone together and begins her spiel about how they need to work with DIA and be a happy team or whatever. Honestly, Lucy is kind of tuning out the pep talk and is instead studying Whistler—everything about her body language screams discomfort, from the stiffness of her shoulders to the sharpness of her set mouth. And when she catches Lucy staring, all she does is quickly look away.

Weird.

Later, after they've been fully briefed and Jane dismisses them to do boring grunt work, Lucy tries to edge closer to Whistler and ask what exactly DIA needs to be here for. But when Whistler sees her coming, she makes a beeline towards Jesse instead, and Lucy is left frowning at their backs.

At first Lucy doesn't think too much of it. Jesse is probably handling the precious, redacted DIA files that point them to the possible suspects in this abduction case. But then, after Lucy is tasked with talking to their kidnapping victim's husband, she tries to be polite and ask Whistler if she wants to sit in. A gesture of goodwill, really, to make Whistler feel like she’s part of the investigation. 

“Hey Whistler, do you want to get in on this?” Lucy waves her case file enticingly when Whistler emerges from the break room. “We can do a good cop/bad cop routine. Obviously we know who's who in that scenario, but if you ask nicely I might consider flipping you for bad cop.”

Whistler blinks at her. “What?”

“I'm going to interview Sergeant Nguyen’s husband,” Lucy clarifies. “Want to help?”

“That's not in my job description,” Whistler says, brow crinkling in deeper confusion. “And I have to go talk to Tennant.”

“Again?” Lucy asks this question to the empty space where Whistler used to be. Except this time, Whistler is not being invited into Jane’s office. No, Whistler is just walking away, and pretending to get a call so she has an excuse to exit the hallway.

In an instant, Lucy is pissed off. Here she is, extending an olive branch, and Whistler is acting like she's too good for it. Fine—if Whistler wants to avoid her, then two can play at that game.

Ernie patiently listens to Lucy explain all of this once the interview with the Sergeant's husband gets them nothing. “So that’s why you're hiding in here,” he guesses. “Because Whistler doesn’t want to fight with you like usual.”

“I'm not hiding,” Lucy scoffs. “I actually came here to discuss…” She lamely grabs the top file on his desk, flipping it open to the first page. “Timothy Summers. Hm. Yeah, I think he's our guy.”

“Great,” Ernie says. “So an arrest is imminent, then?”

“Oh, definitely. That's why I'm here…with you…for our next move.”

“And how does the fact that he's been dead for six months fit into this?”

Lucy pauses. “You couldn’t have just told me that?”

“It’s literally underneath his picture. Deceased.” Ernie jabs at the file with his finger, and Lucy smacks him with it. “Ow! God, you’re mean when you fight with your girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Lucy’s voice comes out several octaves higher than it should. “Why would you say that?”

“Uh, lots of reasons.” Ernie pops open a box of candy on his desk, offering Lucy a sympathetic red vine which she numbly accepts. “Everyone can see it. Honestly, I thought you two were going to start going at it on Kai’s desk the other day when Whistler broke the news that we were off the Dominguez case.”

Lucy’s jaw drops. “Because we were arguing?”

“Intensely arguing,” Ernie corrects. “Kai and I placed bets on who would kiss who first.”

“Are you serious? She hates me.” 

“Does she?” Ernie continues chewing on his red vine before whispering conspiringly, “Or does she secretly burn for you?”

Horrified, Lucy ditches the candy; surely, that must be the reason she suddenly feels sick to her stomach. “Forget it. I’m going to hide somewhere else.”

“So you are hiding. I knew it! Hey, can you—”

Whatever Ernie wants, Lucy doesn’t stick around to find out. She decides she’s going to find Kai instead, see if he has any actual leads in the case.

Except she ends up bumping into Whistler again. Full-on body contact this time, even—Whistler jerks backwards, Lucy tries to jump into the wall, and really it's a wonder it doesn't end in catastrophe.

“I'm sorry, I…” Whistler trails off when she sees Lucy. “Um, Tennant said I had to talk to Ernie about Sergeant Nguyen’s finances. Is he here?”

“Yeah, he's in there.” Lucy gestures vaguely over her shoulder. “The tech-nerd talk is all yours. I need to go talk to...other people. About things.”

Whistler nods awkwardly, still waiting, and Lucy belatedly steps out of the doorway in order to head back to the bullpen. Okay, so, Operation Avoid Whistler is officially off to a bad start.

But when she catches up to Kai, he has a much better idea of how to spend their time, and it also guarantees Lucy can avoid Whistler perfectly.

“Sergeant Nguyen was last seen at a Vietnamese restaurant two blocks from here,” Kai says. “Do you want to go check it out? Maybe we'll get something the police didn't.”

Lucy’s spirits are immediately lifted. “Yes. I could go for a banh mi,” she says dreamily. “Ooh, and some spring rolls.”

“I'm…pretty sure we're not allowed to order food from our suspects.”

“We don't know if they're our suspects,” Lucy reminds him. “And besides, spring rolls never kidnapped anyone.” She pats him on the shoulder reassuringly. “Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

It ends up being closer to twenty minutes to update Jane on their next move, but Jane does give her blessing to investigate (and bring back lunch). Lucy has a pep in her step the entire way out to the parking lot, where…Whistler is standing.

Lucy notices her first; Whistler is facing the ocean, hand cupped above her forehead and frowning at something. She looks so serious—and out of place—that Lucy almost considers asking what’s wrong. Key word almost, because she is still on avoid-Kate-Whistler-mode, and she makes a mad dash to Kai’s car before Whistler can spot her.

Kai yelps when Lucy yanks the door open with, admittedly, a sense of urgency that is a tad unwarranted. “What—?”

“Drive, Kai,” Lucy demands, and he immediately starts up the engine, but he eyes her warily all the same.

(Unfortunately, Lucy makes eye contact with Whistler through the window as the car peels out of the lot, and she groans and sinks low in her seat.)

“What was that?” Kai ventures to ask. “Are you and Whistler fighting?”

“For once, no,” Lucy says. “She’s been avoiding me. So now I’m the one avoiding her.”

“Well did something happen?” The drive is quick, and before they know it, Kai is easing the car into a parking spot. “I know you two get…uh. Really passionate sometimes.”

“Because she hates me,” Lucy reiterates, feeling like a broken record at this point. “So I hate to break it to you, but you and Ernie are not going to collect on any bets related to kissing.”

Kai winces. “You know about that?”

“Yes, Kai, what the hell? I expect this from Ernie, but from you?”

“Any way I can make it up to you?” Kai asks weakly.

“Buy me lunch and we’ll talk,” Lucy says, and Kai—newfound meddler that he has proved to be—can at least follow instructions beautifully.

The restaurant turns out to be a dead-end case wise, but their menu is grand; they order too much food and bring enough lunch for everyone. (Even Whistler).

But when Lucy ever-so-casually mentions this, Jane just shrugs and says,

“I told her to stick around for you two, but she said she had to finalize some reports.”

“Wow,” Ernie says around a mouthful of noodles, “that’s dedication. Turning down free food just for work.” He pointedly raises his eyebrows at Lucy, who in turn tries very hard to glower at him with just her eyes.

“Good for her,” is all Lucy has to say about that. Jane gives her a curious look for the comment, but thankfully doesn’t ask.

“Hey, Lucy,” Ernie says suddenly. “I left my tea in the lair. Can you do me a favor and bring it to me?”

Lucy—still cradling her precious, half-eaten banh mi—has to do an actual double-take. “Why can’t you get it?”

“Because I have a cramp…in my leg…and you love me,” Ernie says. When Lucy stares back at him, unimpressed, he tries again with: “And I’ll owe you?”

“Fine,” Lucy sighs. “But you’re being so weird.” Suspiciously weird, even, but his scheming doesn’t click until Lucy is actually opening Ernie’s door and—“Oh.”

Whistler lifts her head at the intrusion, her stunned expression likely a mirror of Lucy’s. “Special Agent Tara,” she says.

“Whistler,” Lucy says slowly. “What are you doing in here?”

“Ernie said I could borrow his computer,” Whistler says. “DIA wants me here until we get a ransom demand, and I wanted to get some work done.”

“Ernie let you borrow his computer,” Lucy echoes. “Willingly?”

“Yes?” Whistler tilts her head questioningly. “Sorry, did you need something?”

Lucy knows she should be looking for Ernie’s tea. She also knows she should probably ask Whistler about it. But all that comes out is: “You know, we brought lunch for everyone.”

“Thank you, but I had lunch already.” Whistler glances back down at the computer screen, tapping away at its keys in a silent dismissal, and in an instant Lucy has had enough.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

The mechanical typing falters. “I’m not.”

“You’re working with everyone else on my team but me,” Lucy says. “That kind of feels like you’re avoiding me.”

“Maybe I felt like getting actual work done for once.” Whistler looks up again, this time with a deep-set frown on her lips. “And I wasn’t in the mood to fight.”

“Hey, you’re the one who fights with me!”  Lucy argues. “Literally, from day one. You yelled at Jane about me in front of everyone.”

“Because you stole a sensitive report which you had no clearance for!”

“Actually, I read it upside down while you were talking about how I didn’t have clearance for it,” Lucy counters. “No stealing required.”

Whistler’s jaw clenches. “That is not any better.”

“But it means I’m not a thief. I’m just…you know, crafty,” Lucy says. “Come on, haven’t you ever bent the rules a little to break a case?”

“I don't break cases,” Whistler says flatly. “I protect intel.”

Lucy rolls her eyes. “Fine,” she snaps, exasperated, “you’re a saint and a better person than I am. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Are you—what is your problem? That is not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” Lucy lets the words hang between them in the ensuing silence. She doesn’t even realize that she has placed her hands on the desk in challenge—barely any space between them now—until Whistler is hastily standing up.

Even as tall as she is, Whistler’s voice comes out incredibly small. “Nothing,” she says finally. “Please forgive my…gross unprofessionalism. Clearly, I have overstayed my welcome.” She steps out from behind the desk without even bothering to close whatever she’d been working on, and Lucy sees red.

“Oh sure, just run away,” Lucy huffs. “Go ahead! Prove you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I haven’t been—”

“I’m sick of playing this game with you!” Lucy cuts her off.

Whistler doesn’t move an inch. “What game?” 

Dammit. Ernie is most definitely in her head. What the hell; it’s not like Lucy has anything to lose. “The game where we pretend we don't like each other,” she says firmly. “You’re an asshole and I like to piss you off, but obviously there is something else here and I’m not crazy. This is—”

Honestly, in the back of her mind, the most Lucy expects is more denial. At worst, she expects Whistler to march out of the room and report her to Jane again. She certainly does not anticipate Whistler yanking Lucy in to kiss her breathless—just for a brief, dizzying moment—before pulling away.

Whistler tries to apologize, but Lucy doesn’t let her; she is once again determined to give as good as she gets (in a very different context). Lucy pulls Whistler right back in, grasping desperately at her face and stretching as fall as the tips of her toes will allow. 

It seems to reassure Whistler in any case, who eagerly slides her hands along Lucy’s back and melts against her. Maybe it's the months of pent-up aggression between the two of them, or maybe it's the knowledge that Whistler is an actual human being, or maybe it's just the ghost of the faint touch of Whistler's fingertips underneath the hem of Lucy’s shirt, but the kiss gets really intense really fast.

Lucy debates sliding her own hand under Whistler's shirt—see if she is as serious in her bra choices as she is in pantsuits—but then Whistler flicks her tongue into Lucy’s mouth and she cannot possibly be expected to focus. It's intoxicating and exhilarating and…

“Wait, wait,” Lucy regretfully manages to twist away. “We can't do this.”

“Right,” Whistler says, nodding rapidly. “It would be a mistake.” She's clearly trying to school her features into her usual stoic demeanor, but her efforts are completely undermined by her kiss-swollen lips and the obvious flush on her cheeks.

“What? No, I meant, we can't do this here,” Lucy says. “You think it would be a mistake?”

“Not if…you don't,” Kate says, almost like a question.

“Are you seriously going to throw yourself at me but not even say what you feel out loud? I think you're addicted to fighting with me,” Lucy decides.

“I didn't throw myself at you, and—if anything, you're the one trying to fight with me!” Kate exclaims. “Every day I come in, and you're there trying to undermine me. I've been trying to keep my distance for both our sakes. Obviously our working dynamic is…less than ideal, most of the time.”

“I'm not trying to undermine you. I'm just trying to get you to loosen up a little maybe,” Lucy says. “Which…okay, might be annoying. So I get why you're an uptight asshole sometimes. No offense!”

Whistler frowns. “Some offense taken.”

“Oh, it's fine,” Lucy says. “The asshole thing is unfortunately very hot. Ernie may or may not have had a point.”

“What does Ernie have to do with this?” Whistler looks horrified now.

“Not like—Ernie and I don't sit around discussing how hot you are,” Lucy tries to save face. “He just suggested that we might…you know…jump each other at some point.”

“You're not making this any better.”

“Then forget Ernie,” Lucy says. “Take him out of the equation entirely. Do you also find me unfortunately hot?”

“I wouldn’t call it unfortunate,” Whistler says. “But. Yes?”

“Okay, so…” Lucy trails off. “What are we doing here, Whistler? Do you want to walk out of here and pretend this never happened?”

“No.” Whistler steps forward hesitantly. “That’s not what I want. I…I like you, Lucy. And I know this would completely ruin our working relationship, but—”

“Shut up about work,” Lucy says, dragging Whistler back in for another fervorous kiss, delighting in the fact that Whistler certainly isn’t fighting her now.

(Lucy’s phone buzzing, however, does effectively kill the mood.)

“What is that?” Whistler is instantly back into work mode, smoothing her hair haphazardly as if someone is about to walk in any second. “Is it about the case?”

Lucy unlocks her phone with bated breath. “Maybe we finally have a ransom call,” she says, before the familiar face in her text messages proves otherwise. “...nevermind, it’s just Ernie. He wants to know if we’ve ‘kissed and made up’. I’m going to tell him we’re going to have sex in his chair.”

Whistler half-coughs, half-chokes. “Are we?”

“Obviously not,” Lucy says. Then, thoughtfully: “But I’m technically still on lunch. Did you drive here?”

“Yeah, I have a company car,” Whistler says. “Do you have another lead?”

“No, but I do have thirty minutes to spare,” Lucy says cheerfully. “Get your keys. We’re totally going to have sex in your company car.”

Whistler turns very, very red. “I…don’t think my boss would like that.”

“Fine, then we can make out in your company car,” Lucy amends. “But you’re going to have to leave first. Kai and Ernie have a bet going about us, and I don’t want either of them to win.”

“Your team has a strange obsession with your love life,” Whistler tells her matter-of-factly.

“Eh, could be worse,” Lucy says. “Jane could get involved.”

Whistler—marginally disheveled—manages to crack a smile. “Let’s not let it get that far,” she suggests, brushing one final kiss against Lucy’s mouth with a resigned sigh. “So…are we keeping this between us for now?”

“I guess so,” Lucy says begrudgingly. “Think you can keep on fighting me in front of everyone?”

Whistler shrugs. “Are you going to keep being an asshole?”

“Wha—hey, no fair! You’re the asshole. I’m the good-meaning, happy-go-lucky agent who just wants to keep you human,” Lucy says, poking at Whistler’s cheek until her smile grows even more.

“Challenge accepted,” Whistler says, smoothly tucking a strand of hair behind Lucy’s cheek before casually making her exit. 

Lucy places her hands on her hips and wistfully watches her go. This day has gone absolutely nowhere she expected it to, but dammit, she can’t be mad.

(Especially when her phone buzzes again with another text from Ernie. All it says is: NOOOOOO 😭).

[radskull-69]

Could u make a short one-shot about Bob Velseb x Y/n plz!! Also I love your work!

plot: Bob is your boss who has always sweet on you and does things he wouldn’t normally do for his employees, like defend them against a wild Karen or give them breaks for longer then an hour….blow up your messages every night.

You resisted the urge to even hav your eye twitch in agitation (hell, to not leap over this counter!) as the older woman across from you behind the counter was going off at you, they hadn’t even ordered yet.

something about us murdering animals when we should’ve been selling vegan meat.

honestly, you didn’t get it. If you don’t want meat in your food don’t come to a diner with MEAT!

“I am sick of you monsters butchering up poor defenceless animals! I wanna see your manager!” Her manicured hand slammed down onto the counter, her screeching voice ringing out around the shop and making other customers either give you annoyed glared or sympathetic looks.

yet no one came in to help, you’d give them the finger if you could. But your too much of a pussy to do that, and you value this job.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!” The woman jabs a finger at you, making you lean back as she got more and more hostile. “Do you not care for animals? You disgusting-!”

“What’s all dis’ ruckus about? Heard someone wanted me.” A deep southern voice sounded out behind you, tilting your head up you were met with bob looming over you and casting a large shadow over the now (finally) quiet woman.

Oh great, one of the other employees must of went and got him for you. Awesome.. this is just gonna make matters worse.

“I-I.. yes! I wanted to tell you that your employee here won’t sell me any vegan burgers.” The woman finally fixes her scared look and with a stumble goes back to glaring, though no longer yelling.

“Hmm, well. If ya haven’t notice yet.” Bob leaned forward to rest his arm heavily on the counter, even though you were in-front of him. So now while he bended over to do just that you had to bend over slightly as well as to not get crushed from him, face beer red as you kept your eyes trained to the red counter

“This is a diner, not a front yawn where ya munch of grass.” Despite his usual large grin it was obviously strained and his eyes were wide and full of warning, you shivered. Glad to not be on the other end of the stick of that.

“Well- excuse you-!” Before the woman could even finish her sentence with a look of high offence she suddenly shut up, and it almost looked like the blood drained from her face as if a vampire sucked it out.

You wondered what kind of look Bob must’ve given her to scare her so because with a stutter she was out the door before you could blink.

You stood there in confusion and once again tilted your head up curiously to look at bob’s face but were only met with a much softer look and worry on his features, one of his large hands coming up to your shoulder and turning you to face him better.

”you doin’ alright darlin’? Sorry ya had ta’ deal with that witch longer then ya had ta’, saw her comin’ awfully close to ya though..” his brows furrow, creating a worry line between them as I looks you over. You only let out a nod and a ‘uh huh’ as he did so, painfully aware of the stares some of the customers where giving you at the moment still.

“I’m fine, just a bit spooked is all. But I’ve been working in customer service for years so it’s nothing I can’t handle” you wave off his concerns and gently grabbed the hand that was tugging on the collar of your uniform to check for any unhidden injuries, you didn’t need your boss of all people to accidentally look down your shirt.

“Hmm.. if ya say so, but I think you deserve a break. A thirty min- no, a full hour break. With me, in my office.” Bob nodded to himself and the worry was washed off his face and instead replaced with a look of satisfaction with his arrangement he made up for you.

“Oh no- it’s fine, really! I don’t want to bother-“ you were scooting away from bob with a polite smile but his arm wrapped around your torso and before you could say anything more he was already leading you through the staff door and to his office as he chuckled in earnest

“Nonsense! I made ya some lunch for yer’ break actually an’ I wanna have yer’ opinion on em’. Remember? I sent ya a text about it last night while I was makin’ em. There yer’ face food right?” He tilted his head down to you for affirmation as he shut his door behind him, his arm finally leaving your torso with a slight linger you didn’t notice

you sighed and nodded, he kept you a bit past your bedtime with his texts, like he did almost every night. You didn’t speak up on the matter of your sleep schedule being interrupted and instead sat at one of the two leather chairs infront of his desk facing towards it

“Mhm, thanks again Bob.” You shot him a genuine smile, grateful for the free food. And a added plus of bob being a damn good cook.

“Of course!” He strolled up to you from behind as you sat in the seat, hands setting themselves on your shoulders heavily as he leaned down to your level to chuckle lowly in your ear. The grip on your shoulders tightening just a fraction as you tensed.

“Anythin’ for my favourite lil employee~”

[wreckedandpolemic]

yours - george daniel

(mdni) thank you anon for this request i had a SPECTACULAR time with this i hope i did it justice!!

warnings: 18+, semi-public unprotected sex, degradation, praise, jealousy, bratting, slight exhibitionism

It starts the way it always does: teasing. You don’t think you've taken your eyes off George once since he left your side, always ready with a smirk or sly wink when he catches your gaze.  He’s talking to some indie darling or other, a pretty girl, really, but you can see her hand practically white-knuckling his bicep from across the room. She smiles too big and laughs too hard and you hate her, just a little bit. You can’t stop her — you have no reason to. George isn’t yours, not really. The two of you fuck. It’s not exclusive, there’s no strings, but you’re starting to realise you might have let him in one too many times, let him jam something in the door to your heart; you can’t lock it back up when he leaves anymore.

 George locks eyes with you, expression pleading, and you suppress a victorious grin and delicately lift a shoulder in his direction. This is a game you play; he loves it when you get jealous, though neither of you would admit it. You want him all to yourself, want to march over there and prise that girl’s fingers off him, demand that he never so much as look at another girl. But that would be losing, which you’re not in the habit of, so you swallow your bitter fury and wash it down with a long sip of sweet wine, staring intensely at him over the rim of your glass. The girl goes on tiptoes to whisper something to him, and he stoops low to listen, two blonde heads bending together conspiratorially. Worse, he laughs in response, not a polite, awkward chuckle, but a genuine laugh. And he doesn’t look back at you afterwards.

You drain the rest of your wine and set the glass back on the table with a too-loud thud. Making your excuses to the director? producer? you’ve been chatting with, you stroll across the room, feigned casualness becoming harder to maintain with every step. The self-congratulatory smirk on his face as you approach is aggravating. He’s won and he knows it.

“Well, hello, love. I was wondering when I’d get to chat to you,” he says, hugging you from the side and letting his hand linger low on your waist for just a moment longer than he should. “Was starting to think you were avoiding me,” he adds, voice heavy with meaning, dripping with the unsaid.

“You know I can’t keep away from you for too long,” you grin, trailing a finger down his chest. It’s hot in here, his shirt unbuttoned as much as it’s acceptable, giving you the tiniest preview of the toned chest you know so well. The other girl hasn’t said a word, but she’s still lingering, her presence an unwelcome stain on the moment blossoming around the two of you, both curbing your tongues for her benefit. “Come on, I need a refill. We can catch up at the bar.” You phrase it like a suggestion, but he knows from the way your nails dig into his arm through his suit jacket that it’s a command. He leads you away and you shoot the girl a warning glare as you go for good measure.

“You look incredible,” he murmurs low in your ear, splaying a hand at your waist. The warmth of his palm radiates through you, some Pavlovian response to the simple feel of his fingers on your skin making you suppress a shudder. 

“Thank you, darling. I guess you’re alright,” you tease. He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Fine, you’re fucking gorgeous.” You wander over to the bar, and you let him order for the pair of you. He knows what you like, anyway. Probably better than any man on Earth.

You still keep your eyes averted, though, because you knows as soon as you meet his eyes, he’ll say, “You really didn’t want me talking to her, huh?”

You roll your eyes, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, please. You were begging me to get rid of her. Besides, tiny, pretty little thing like her? She couldn’t have handled you.” You shrug. The bartender sets two glasses of wine in front of you, one red, one white, and he takes a long sip before replying.

“Maybe you’re right. I’ll never know, now. You dragged me out of there before I could even get her name.” Smug satisfaction courses through you — you’ve got your claws firmly hooked into him, at least for tonight. You bite back the reply of ‘Good. Forget her. Forget them all,’ that springs to your lips. You’re cool, you remind yourself. You’re relaxed and chill, and you can do casual. You’re not that cliché girl who falls in love with her fuckbuddy.

He runs a finger along the edge of your jaw, dipping down to play with your necklace. “My eyes are up here, darling,” you tell him, his warm hands nauseatingly close to your traitorous, beating heart. It thuds harder, calling out to him. You pray he can’t tell that if he wanted to crack your ribs, reach in and pluck your heart from its place in your chest, that you would let him. You wouldn’t even resist.

“I know what I’m looking at,” he says. “God, you can see everything through this dress.” He raises his other hand, knuckles grazing your nipple accidentally-on-purpose, and tucks a flyaway piece of hair behind your ear.

You swallow a moan, leaning close enough to him that his breath ghosts on your face. He tilts your chin up with a thumb, parting his lips in expectation. “You’re a fucking cock-tease bitch,” you murmur with a scowl, startling him into a laugh; that endearing, high pitched cackle that shakes his shoulders near-violently. “Where the fuck do you get off, flirting with her just to piss me off? Touching me like that in public?”

One of his hands glides down to the thigh-high slit in your dress, thumbing over the skin there. Electricity races from the point his fingers touch your skin, so close to where you want them and yet miles and miles away. “You wanna play, baby? Let’s play,” you breathe, gripping his neck and crashing your lips together. It’s harsh, messy, an explosion of lips and teeth and tongues sliding together. You pull back, biting hard at his lower lip just to feel the flesh tear beneath your teeth. To leave your mark on him so that when he kisses the next girl, the sting reminds him of you.

“You’re fucking wild,” he hisses, tongue flicking over your bite mark.

You shrug. “Don’t piss me off next time.” You pat his chest and lean past him to pick up your wine glass, brushing deliberately against him. “Come find me when you’re ready to get out of here. And you’re not gonna like what I do if you try it on with one more bitch in front of my face,” you promise, turning your back to him and taking a few calculated steps away before throwing him a glance over your shoulder.

“Oh, and George? Can I tell you a secret? I’m not wearing any underwear.”

He freezes and you give a self-satisfied grin. Your victory is short-lived, though, his hand shooting out to catch you by the wrist as you try to walk away. He tugs you back towards him, and you obey easily. There was never any question that you would, really. “You’re not fucking going anywhere,” he hisses in your ear. “Come with me,” he orders, keeping your wrist in a vice-like grip as he drags you out of the room. He doesn’t look at you once the whole time he stalks down the corridor, the only sound your heels clicking against the tile as you struggle to keep pace with him.

George crowds you into a bathroom, attacking your lips the moment the door slams closed. You barely register the quiet click of the lock, letting him flip you so your back is against the door and pin your arms above your head. The second he frees your mouth you moan, trying to squirm away from his lips against your neck and collarbones, but he holds you fast. He dips his head into the valley between your breasts, licking at the skin there. “I love your fucking tits,” he says, mouthing wetly over the fabric that covers your nipple.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you sigh, voice full of false bravado that can’t cover how weak his touch makes you. “Get on with it, or people are going to notice we’re missing,”

“Greedy girl,” George chastises, but his eyes shine with want and his hard cock presses against you through his trousers. He steps back, and your whole body mourns the loss of his skin against yours, aching for him. “Bend over for me, baby,” he orders, a bolt of lust striking you. He knows acutely that all he has to do is tack on for me? and you’ll do whatever he asks. You lean over the sink, cold porcelain biting into your thighs. His eyes meet yours in the mirror, and he lowers his head to kiss your bare back. It’s soft, intimate, in stark contrast to the rough way he’s handling you. It adds fuel to the sickening flare of hope deep in your chest that gutters and gutters but never goes out. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” He’s gentle, all of a sudden, gathering your dress in one fist and pulling it to the side. You gasp, your cunt fluttering in the cool air, and George grins.

“Come on, just fuck me,” you groan, rocking your bare cunt against him, the friction from the fabric of his clothes burning your clit deliciously. Your breath fogs up the mirror, the tap presses uncomfortably between your breasts and the corner of the counter cuts into your thighs. You hardly feel any of it, singularly focused on the man behind you. He removes his steadying hand from your hip, unbuckling his belt and shoving his trousers and boxers down just enough to release his cock. You contort your body, twisting to look over your shoulder at him, his cock red and dripping, begging for you. He still looks so put together, crisp and elegant in his suit, his reflection immaculate above you. You look even more wanton by comparison, hair tumbling over your shoulders and lipstick smeared across your chin. Desperate, hot desire drips out of you, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Beg for it,” he orders, and you’re too far gone to feel embarrassed. He slides a hand between your legs, just barely grazing at your clit. “Oh, God, George, please fuck me,” you moan, mind-wiping pleasure licking from where he toys gently with your swollen bud. “Shit, I need it. Nobody fucks me like you, baby. It’s you, it’s you, it’s always you,” you gasp, biting down on your lower lip before you let slip another incriminating admission.

He swipes a finger across your cunt, dipping teasingly into your entrance and pulling away before you can even react. He licks your arousal off his finger, both of you moaning softly. “Wish we had enough time for me to eat that sweet little pussy. Always so fucking wet for me. Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get what you need,” he promises. You watch him reach into his pocket for a condom and shake your head wildly. “Oh, my dirty girl,” he murmurs, interest colouring his tone. My, your heart gets caught on. My, my, my. My girl. The words ricochet in your skull, bashing against your brain, denting it, leaving it bent out of shape with enough room for George to shove his way in and stay firmly glued there. “You want it raw?”

You nod desperately. “Want it fast. Hard. Dirty,” you plead. “Come on, baby. Ruin me.” At that, he can’t stay teasingly out of your reach any longer, guiding himself to your dripping entrance and thrusting into you in one fluid motion. You’re full so fast you’re practically choking on him, biting down hard to keep a scream at bay. You marvel every time at how well he fits inside you; your body feels made for him. Coherent thought escapes you, euphoria twining through all of your limbs at once.

He paws at your tit with the hand not holding your dress, pinching your nipple cruelly and sending a shock of pleasure-pain spiralling through you. His thrusts are quick but measured, exercising a control that you can’t even begin to fathom as you cling to the edge of the sink for dear life. Your thighs bash against the counter, but you can’t even begin to care. The only thing you know now is George. His hand digging into your waist, nails biting at your flesh, sharp pinpricks drawing a constellation of pleasure in your skin. You’ll be glad, tomorrow, to have the marks, the physical evidence of this encounter, proof of the ownership you feel over him.

“Is someone in there?” somebody calls from outside. You freeze. George only laughs, low and breathy in your ear, teasing, taunting.

“Well? Is someone here, baby?” he whispers, fucking into you again as he speaks.

You choke back a whimper, thrill stealing up your spine at the prospect of getting caught. Someone is right there. If they decide to open the door, there’s no hiding the dirty display you and George are putting on. Being seen like this, bent over, stuffed full of him and begging for more should be humiliating, but inexplicably you almost want to be caught. Maybe, if those girls out there could see how perfectly you fit, how well you fuck him, they’d leave him alone.

“Yeah, I’m in here,” you choke out, clapping a hand to your mouth to stifle a moan when George rolls your clit between his fingers, hot euphoria dripping down your spine. “I’ll— I’ll probably be a second!” you manage, his teasing fingers not giving you even a moment to breathe. Footsteps recede from behind the door and you breathe a sigh of relief, letting a string of suppressed whines and curses fall from your lips. Before you can chastise him, he perfectly hits that spot inside of you and you scream out, mind going blank from pleasure.

He groans. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this, baby. My sweet girl, stretching so pretty around my cock.” You whimper, widening your legs to draw him in deeper. George lifts your head up by your hair, forcing you to make eye contact with yourself in the mirror. “Look at yourself,” he commands. “Look at my pretty girl, falling apart for me.” Your soupy mind latches onto that my again, that little word choking you as effectively as if he had wrapped his hands around your throat. “Made to take my cock. Isn’t that right?”

“Tell me you’re mine,” you gasp, so, so full of him.

“What?” he manages between pants, hips never slowing from their brutal pace. Your skin slaps together, wet, sopping sounds ringing through the small room.

“Fuck, George, just say you’re mine. You don’t even have to mean it,” you coax, moaning low in your throat when his fingers brush your clit. “Come on, baby. Who else do you get it this good from? You know you own my fucking pussy. Let me pretend I get something back,”

He stills for a split second, as though your words cut through the fog of lust swirling between you. Another girl might not have even noticed, but you know every motion he makes inside and out. A broken beat in his perfect rhythm means everything to you. He leans down, slow and deliberate. “I’m yours,” George whispers, and you can’t hide your physical reaction, how good it feels to hear those words. Your blood turns to syrup, heart beating deadly fast to keep it pumping through your organs. “Does it feel good when I say that?” You nod wildly. “I know it does. I can feel what that does for you. I’m yours, baby. Yours, all yours. As long as you’re mine,” he croons, breath hot and sticking in your ears. He’s ruining you. You won’t ever be able to lay under another man without thinking of him, of this.

“I’m yours, George, you know that. Ugh, fuck, I’m getting close.” You slip a hand between your legs, both of you rolling circles on your clit. Tantalising pleasure builds and builds, churning in your gut, setting your body alight. George doesn’t let up, words failing the pair of you, grunts and moans dripping off his tongue in the place of gratifying words. Pleasure coils in your belly, winding tighter and tighter, dragging you ever closer to your high.

One final thrust and you fall apart, unspooling under his quick, clever fingers. Euphoria seeps into your bones, sticky heat keeping you glued to George. Your toes curl in your shoes, your legs shake, unsteady on your feet. He fucks you through your orgasm, stroking your flushed skin as his thrusts become more erratic. You cry out something that could be his name, rocking your hips, half retreating from overstimulation and half chasing his orgasm. You squeeze your cunt around him and he comes with a shout, his body loosening against you, his hand dropping from your hip to catch himself on the counter. He spills inside you as your name spills from his lips, smooth and sweet on his tongue. He pants, hips resting against yours, and catches your eye in the mirror with a smile.

“Fuck,” he mutters, grinning tiredly. He pulls out of you with a sickening squelch, cleaning up as best as he can in the bathroom sink and tucking himself away. You stand upright slowly, clutching your abused muscles.

“Fuck is right,” you reply, wincing as you feel his cum trickling out of you. “I think you’ve shattered my hipbones, darling.” You adjust your dress, crumpled where George had it clutched in his fist.

“You love it,” he fires back. You shrug, tipping your head in acknowledgement. “Sit up here for me, love,” he says, patting the counter. You balance on the edge and let George fuss over you for a moment, cleaning you up as gently as possible, plying you with soft kisses when you whimper and squirm away, oversensitive. This is always the worst part of your hookups — he takes such good care of you after, and for those few minutes, you feel what it would be like to be really his. You stand on shaky legs and try to breathe some life back into your body, try to reel your mutinous heart back in.

“Shit,” you hiss, registering your reflection in the mirror. You look utterly fucked, hair wild, dress ruined, makeup smeared, chest heaving. “I can’t go back out there like this,” you complain, swatting at him when he smirks. Of course, he still looks completely put together, composed as if he wasn’t crying out your name and cumming mere minutes ago.

It takes a minute, but you manage to wrangle your hair into submission and scrub the lipstick stains from your face. There isn’t a lot you can do for your dress, though. Your thighs burn every time you take a step, and your bare cunt is desperately sore. George swats you on the ass and follows you out of the bathroom. Matty catches your eye as you slink guiltily back into the party, shooting you a wicked smirk. You can’t help but love him, even if it does mean everyone in this room is going to know your business by night’s end.

“Hey,” George says, still keeping a supportive arm around your waist. “If you really want me, I’m yours,”

Your pulse speeds, your tender heart smashing against your ribs, bruising to a pulp. “Can you repeat that?” you manage.

“I’m yours, love. As long as you’re mine,” he promises, taking you by the waist and staring deep into your eyes. You’ve always wondered whether he could read your thoughts with that look, and now you have your answer. Stretching up on tiptoes, you sling your arms around his neck and catch him in a long, sweet kiss. You link a finger around his.

“Yours. All yours,”

[drabblesandimagines]

Kitty (part 5)

Parts 1-4 can be found at my masterlist. Pairings: Rei Suwa x reader Lotsa fluff (as usual)

Your alarm goes off just before seven but you’ve been awake a while, staring at the ceiling and blaming an internal body clock. Before you’d gone up to bed last night, Kazuki had said he’d take Miri to daycare in the morning but you’d assured him you could do it. You’d at least slept a bit before they’d come home and it’s not the first time you’ll get by on less than a full night’s sleep. You get up and dressed – a denim dungaree dress, black t-shirt and leggings – and head through to Miri’s bedroom, coaxing her out of bed and downstairs with the promise of her beloved chocolate cereal for breakfast if she plays what you’ve dubbed the whisper game, saying you both had to be as sneaky and quiet as mice. You’re hoping to keep the noise down to allow Kazuki and Rei some more sleep. Miri settles down with cartoons on mute as she eats and you eat something from Kazuki’s large amount of food prep from the other day. It’s then back up to the bedroom to get her dressed, do the temperature record and sentence or two about the late night for her book, and packing up her essentials for the day.

All packed and ready, you’re heading to the front door when the bathroom door slides open and a bed-headed – tub-headed? - Rei emerges, yawning.

“Morning,” he mumbles.

“Papa Rei!” Miri collides into his legs, still whispering - thankfully. “Are you coming too? Please, please!”

“Er… Sure,” he runs a hand through his hair in an attempt to flatten it and shuffles over to the door, Miri holding onto his leg the whole way. “Why are we whispering?”

“Me and Kitty are mice - squeak-squeak!” She squeals, shoving her shoes onto her feet. “You try, Papa Rei.”

“Er…” He looks at Miri and then you – you give what you hope is an encouraging smile.

“Squeak.”

--

Picking up Miri yesterday was odd – you’d ignore the mothers’ stares and hushed comments of, “Is she the mistress?” And “No, she’s got to be the nanny”, when they’d seen you waiting for Miri to pack her belongings, chatting politely with Ms Anna. You hadn’t quite made it through stutter-free, but the daycare teacher’s kind eyes and smile hadn’t put you so on edge, at least.

It’s even weirder being here with Rei. Miri is holding both yours and Rei’s hands as you approach the daycare and the chatter appears to cease entirely as soon as you step foot into the playground. Seeing Rei at morning drop-off must be a rare occurrence as the mothers soon descend, swarming the three of you, saying how nice it was to see him, but where’s Kazuki?

“Uh…” Rei trailed off, looking a little like a deer caught in headlights at the women’s questioning.

“Z-Z-Zuki’s f-fine.” The eyes all turn to you and you regret opening your mouth, but you can see they’re after more detail. “H-he’s j-just h-h-hav-having a l-lie-in.” You can deal with Kazuki, Rei and Miri looking at you, but the gaggle of women is a little too much and your stutter got progressively worse the more you tried to get through the sentence. You want the floor to swallow you up.

There are some raised eyebrows and side glances, but suddenly – thankfully - Rei’s arm is around your shoulders and he navigates the three of you a way out through the crowd. “Excuse us.” He grunts. They all share a glance before they’re staring down at their phones, texting furiously. Rei drops his arm as soon as you’re clear and you immediately miss its reassuring presence. Miri tugs at your arm, speedwalking over to Ms Anna. Rei falls behind for a second and a mother jumps at the opportunity, grabbing hold of him by his arm.

“Rei, it’s so lovely to see you here. Kazuki tells us how busy you are. I’m Asahi’s mother, I’m sure Miri’s told you all about her!” She giggles. The name vaguely rings a bell in Rei’s head – something about Asahi being quite bossy.

“Uh-huh,” Rei tries to politely shrug his arm out of her grip to follow you and Miri but she holds firm. “And I take that sweet girl is your nanny! I hope you don’t mind me saying this – and I’m sure she’s nice - but I couldn’t help but notice that nasty stutter. You do need to be careful around this age, exposing Miri to something like that could hamper her educational development, you know? And she could replicate the behaviour around my Asahi, they’re just so easily influenced at this age…”

Rei is done with being polite and shakes his arm free with force. “Shut up.”

“Excuse me?” Her face screams disbelief.

Rei is ready to repeat himself, but doubt swirls in his mind. Kazuki probably would agree, but he could also be mad if he finds out Rei’s made an enemy with one of the daycare moms… He bites his tongue and rephrases.

“I said, she’s not the nanny. And her stutter is fine.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. As I said, she seems very sweet. I just thought…”

“I know.” Rei grits his teeth. “Thank you.” And then he strides over to where you and Miri are chatting to Ms Anna at the door, waiting for you.

“E-everything okay?” You ask.

“Mm.”

After Miri is signed in and waves you both goodbye, Rei’s arm is back around your shoulders and speed walks the both of you through the crowd with a scowl across his face – warning everyone to steer clear. You’re thankful – there’s probably not a job in public speaking for you in the future.

“You okay?” He checks in as you head up the street, back towards the apartment.

“Y-yeah. I f-feel a little s-silly that I pa-panicked.”

“They kind of scare me too, to be honest.”

You laugh a little at that. You can’t imagine much scaring Rei.

His arm is still around your shoulders and it feels comforting as you walk. You think about returning the gesture, slipping your own arm around his waist when suddenly a ringtone blares out and his arm leaves your shoulders to retrieve his phone from his pocket. Too late. “It’s Kazuki.”

He answers without a word.

“Where are you?” You can hear Kazuki’s tired voice echo through the speaker. You don’t want to eavesdrop but the volume makes it impossible.

“I’m with Kitty – Miri wanted us both to take her to daycare.”

“Oh, did she?” A pause. “Ohhhh, you sly dog.” What on earth does that mean?

“Huh?” Rei seems as clueless as you.

“Hey, buddy, why don’t you both swing by and see Kyu? You can pick up the payment for yesterday and have a drink.”

“Er…” He pulls the phone away from his face. “Do you mind if we pop in to see Kyu?”

“No.” You shake your head. “S-sounds nice.” You haven’t met the man who’s apparently researching your past yet. Kazuki had taken photos of you on his phone to show him previously for his research.

“Okay. We’ll go.”

“Great! And, er, no need to rush back, if you get what I mean. Bye!”

The phone beeps, signaling the end of the call and Rei pulls it back from his face, looking bemused. He doesn’t get what Kazuki means.

“Is Z-Zuki okay?”

“He’s being weird.” He sticks his hands back in his pocket. “We’ll head this way, then. You’ll like the walk along the river bank.”

You reach the café Yadorigi and Rei holds the door open for you. There’s a tall gentleman dressed in black behind the counter, drying off a cup as you enter. He has brown hair and glasses and a mildly surprised look as you enter with Rei. Looking around briefly, it seems you’re currently his only customers at this early hour.

“Well, it’s rare I see you out of the apartment, Rei. And this must be the famous Kitty.” He smiles warmly at you, gesturing for you both to take a seat at the counter.

“H-hi.” You smile back, sitting down on a stool. “It’s nice t-to meet y-you.”

“You too. I do hope Kazuki and Rei are treating you well.”

“V-very well, thank y-you.” There’s something about Kyu that’s calming - almost.

“Good.” He turns to Rei. “Good work yesterday. Here for your payment?”

Rei nods and Kyu pulls open a drawer. He removes two brown envelopes and slides them over and Rei tucks them into his jacket pocket. You don’t know what the job exactly entailed of – of course you’d heard some of the preparations but you’d tried not to eavesdrop. It could’ve been surveillance, blackmail, reconnaissance… It could’ve been assassination. If you hadn’t seen them in action for yourself, would you really think the two men who had taken you in were hitmen of all things? They were so patient and kind with you from the get-go. They don’t match the stereotype of people you’d been with living with in the shady underworld the past few years – you couldn’t imagine any of his men returning home to cook, clean, do laundry and lovingly tuck a child into bed. Come to think of it, you weren’t sure any of the men even had homes. The house began to seem more and more a compound towards the end as his gang grew until, that is, he was deemed too greedy and had to be eliminated from the competition.

Kazuki and Rei are in a bad business, but they saved you from a miserable, silenced existence. And, from your limited knowledge of their past hits – you’d heard the story of how they came to meet Miri last Christmas – the people they kill are not angels themselves… Kazuki has let you in a little on his past, unprompted, abandoned by his parents, getting by on the streets with cons and grifts. You hadn’t asked Rei. It doesn’t seem proper to ask when you can’t relay anything. You’re aware of the Suwa empire from dinner discussions at the house, he had started to speak his plans to transcend the Organization, rumours of the Suwa heir leaving the nest, exposing a vulnerability…  All whilst you had your head bowed down, hands clasped, awaiting his instructions.

“Kitty?” Rei’s hand is on your arm and you realise you’ve done it again – got tied up in your thoughts and ignored a question.

“S-sorry, I was m-m-miles away.”

“That’s okay.” It’s Kyu this time. “I just asked if there was something you’d like to drink.”

“Oh. Erm…” There’s no menu that you can see, but there’s a familiar scent, sparking something in your brain at the fact you have choice. “Any t-type of c-coffee, really.”

Rei’s eyes widen at that – besides the cocoa, you’d never really partaken in hot drinks back at the apartment, always going for water.

“I didn’t know you liked coffee.”

You smile, sheepishly. “I’m s-still trying t-to work out w-w-what I like too.”

Kyu begins to grind some coffee beans. “So, you really remember nothing of your life before Aktomi?”

Your stomach flips at the name you refuse to use - you squeeze your nails into your palms before you shake your head. “S-sometimes t-there’s a flash of s-something, b-b-but nothing con-concrete. I j-just remember the h-house and him.”

“It could be your brain protecting itself from trauma.” Rei states and Kyu gives him a quizzical look. “Or that’s what I read online.”

That makes you feel uneasy. If your brain was keeping things locked away from before the house – the house in which you were beaten, starved, forced to live in servitude to a mafia boss – what on earth were you not wanting to remember from your home life?

“Could be amnesia from a head injury too.” Kyu comments as he takes the freshly ground coffee over to an espresso machine. “Kazuki said you stopped talking so Aktomi would stop hitting you in the face?”

Rei tenses at that besides you.

You wished Kyu would stop saying his name, but you don’t feel confident enough to voice your discomfort. “I w-was a little st-stubborn, until I-I wasn’t.” Beaten into the good, submissive maid you became.

Kyu notes the deepening scowl on Rei’s face and thinks perhaps he should move the conversation on. “Without sounding too big-headed, my contacts and research are usually spot-on, but I’ve reached a dead end at the moment. I’m still surprised you didn’t show up on anything when the hit was organized. If you remember anything, please get in touch. I’m sure you must be eager to return to your old life after so long away.”  

You don’t miss the trace of suspicion in his tone, but you try not to take offence. He must have to be naturally suspicious in his line of work, you reason. You wouldn’t describe yourself as eager at all - you quite like the life you’ve found yourself in at the moment. Being with Rei, Kazuki and Miri makes you feel safe, relaxed, content – all feelings you haven’t had in a long while. Though, you have to admit, when Kyu mentions your old life, you can’t help but wonder if the three of them miss their old life, without you, your lack of history, your stutter and your taking up Rei’s bedroom.  

“I w-will.” You smile politely, as he begins to froth some milk.

“Can we sit in a booth?” Rei asks, abruptly.

“Why, tired of me already?” Kyu teases. “Go for it. I’ll bring these over.”

Rei nods and gets up from his seat, heading towards the booth in the back right-hand corner of the establishment. You slide into the seat and he sits opposite, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You can tell he wants to say something but he’s holding back and you’re not one to talk, so you settle into a companiable silence as Kyu finishes making your drinks. He comes over with a fruity orange concoction for Rei and a coffee for you.

“Flat white.” Kyu serves with a smile.

“T-thanks.”

“How much do we owe you?” Rei asks, sullenly.

“For the young lady’s first visit – on the house.” He waves off, returning to behind the bar.

Rei takes a long sip through a straw, looks over his shoulder to see Kyu cleaning the counter and then leans forward to you, shoulders sagging with the release of tension. ”I didn’t like his tone.”

“H-he’s just d-doing his job.” You try to shrug it off. Kazuki’s told you before that he and Rei have worked with Kyu for years and you don’t want to cause a fuss. You take a sip of the flat white. “Mm. I d-do like c-coffee!”

Rei can’t help but smile at that.

As you enjoy your drinks, the dark-haired man pulls his phone out of his pocket and shows you a game he downloaded to pass the time on the car ride yesterday. The bell jingles to signal the arrival of another customer and a tall, a receding black hairline man enters and looks around. He’s dressed in all black and is bulky – he wouldn’t have looked out of place at the house. His eyes seem unnaturally wide and protrude out of his skull almost, his face expressionless. It’s unnerving. You cast your eyes back down to the table and the phone screen, but the hairs standing up on the back of your neck suggest he’s staring at you. There’s a hushed conversation between the mysterious man and Kyu, before you hear a pen click twice and he vacates.

Weird.

 --

After you finish your drinks and say goodbye to Kyu, you walk back along the riverbank. It’s peaceful and you’re content in Rei’s company. You like talking to him, of course, but silence seems different with him. With Miri, conversation is constant and you don’t blame her, she’s an inquisitive child who says everything and anything that comes to mind. With Kazuki, well, he’s just being sweet and trying to improve your confidence, especially after the grocery store incident. You can tell he worries you might regress, so he tries to keep the conversation flowing at all times. But with Rei, it all just feels different. He goes at your pace, he doesn’t speak just to fill the void, but everything he seems to say is considered. And those fleeting touches the two of you have had lately…

You don’t know what it is – it could be the warmth of the sun on your skin, the relaxing sound of the water, the gentle breeze, the buzz of the caffeine, the man himself - but whatever it is, it gives you a surge of courage and without a second thought you grab his hand.

As soon as you touch his fingers, the panic springs up. You’ve misread the situation, you’ve overstepped the mark… but, before you can pull away, his fingers deftly intertwine with yours and the panic quells instantaneously, as if it was never there in the first place.

Looking at your laced hands, you glance up at Rei, feeling your cheeks flush. There’s a dreamy smile on his face as you continue the walk back to the apartment in silence.

----

Please like and follow me if you've enjoyed - they really help me write the next part :)

I *think* I know how I'll conclude this series but I think there's a little while to go yet...

EDIT: Part 6 is here, my lovelies! <3

[fruity-mega-coconut69]

Finally

[pairings]: Samantha Carpenter x Reader

[summary]: All your life you have been trying to find peace. And when someone from your past shows up. You think that this might be your chance at finding peace.

[warnings]: blood, mentions of murder, swearing and it's pretty rushed.

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

You were sitting at your usual place in your favorite bar. A bottle of beer in your hand as you stared ahead. “ Ooh, It’s one of the sad days, eh? “ You don’t respond to the bartender, who you befriended over time. He sighs “ Okay. Here is your favorite . On the house. “ He grins at you as you finally look at him, a faint smile on your lips. You quickly chug the beer and take the glass he gave you. 

“ Thanks “ He nods and turns to another customer.  You feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You take it out and look at it. It was Wes Hicks; “ Tara is in the hospital. Come quick! “ As soon as you get to the end of the text you get up, chug down your drink and start getting your jacket on. You say a quick goodbye and run out to your car.

In 10 minutes you are at the hospital and running inside to the receptionist “ Excuse me, where can I find Tara Carpenter's room? “ You ask in a rush. The receptionist gives you the number of the room and you run to the elevator. 

The elevator dings and you get out of it and go towards Tara’s room. You open the door to reveal Tara’s friends and, of course,  Tara. “ Y/N! “ Tara exclaims as she sees you.

“ Hi, T “ You say as you approach her. “ How are you feeling? “ 

She visibly gags and makes a disgusted face “ You reek of alcohol “ You smile at her slightly and shake your head.  You look up at her friends and walk over to them. 

“ What happened? “ You look at them with your eyebrows furrowed, biting your lip. 

“ Some sick fuck in a Ghosface mask attacked her last night “ Said Wes as he looked over at Tara then back at you. You nod your head slowly, Processing. You look down at your hands shaking as memories come back from the past. 

But you are quickly snapped out of it as you hear the door opening behind you and turn around. What or rather who you see is surprising. It is the one and only love of your life, Samantha Carpenter. As she comes inside the love in your eyes quickly turns into something else. Disgust. Behind her comes a guy. Trailing after her like a lost puppy while holding her hand. 

You and Sam make eye contact, but you look away immediately “ I’ll be back in a minute. “ You say and step out of the room. You lean against the door and sigh.

This can’t be happening again. You think, You can’t do this. Not when you are in this state. You take off your backpack and start searching for your pills. When you find them you reach for the bottle of water you packed this morning for your drunk self.

You swallow them and put the rest back into the backpack. You have been taking those pills ever since that night at Kirby Reed’s house. The night that changed your whole life. 

You straighten up and suddenly  the door is opening again. Tara’s friends and Richie come out of the room. “ Wha- “ 

“ We supposed we should give them some time. You know, to catch up? “ Says Chad and you just nod and sit down at the chair that is in front of the door. “ Hey. Are you going to go home tonight? “ You look at him and shake your head. “ Nothing is going to happen, okay? “  He pats your shoulder and walks over to Mindy and the others.

You turn your head to see Richie staring at you. “ What are you looking at? “ His eyes widen and he shakes his head “ Nothing, nothing. “ 

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

It was in the middle of the night and you were still up. Wide awake. For the past hours you have been just staring at the floor. When you hear the door of Tara’s room opening you look up to see Sam. You two just look at each other for a while then she goes up to you. “ It’s been a while, huh. “ You just look up at her and nod. “ Look, I'm sorry I left. I just needed a fresh start. “

For the first time in hours you speak up “ I’m not mad that you left. I’m just……..” You look away from her “ Why didn’t you at least say goodbye? “ All you get in response is silence. You nod and say “ Go do, whatever that is you were about to do. And don’t speak to me unless it’s an emergency “ She sighs and walks away. 

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

You, Sam, Amber, Tara and Richie were all gathered together in Tara’s room with Sheriff Judy. Sam has been attacked. You feel your throat tightening at the thought  of what would have happened if she didn't escape.  The voices of the people around you slowly fade as you remember the last time this happened. 

You walk up to Kirby’s front door and open it, letting yourself inside. You go into the living room to see Kirby, Charlie, Jill and Trevor. “ Hey, guys! “ They all look at you.

“Y/N! What are you doing here? I thought you were having a sleepover? “ Said Kirby as she got up from the couch and hugged you. 

“ Yeah, but it was boring and I didn’t want to go home, so I came here. But I see that Jill is already here. “ You say as you smile at your sister. She looks at Trevor and her smile fades “ I told you, I didn’t text you. Okay? Now leave. “ 

Charlie looks at Jill then at you and back at Jill. She looks at him and shrugs. 

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

You stumble into  the kitchen with your arm on your stomach due to having two stab wounds. What you see is something you already know you will never forget. It was Jill with a knife to Sidney’s throat. Tears swell in your eyes; “ J-Jill? “ 

They all look at you and then suddenly you are dragged further into the kitchen by Charlie. “ Oh, Y/N. You were a great, great sister, really. But even with that, you are not going to get me famous. So it is the way it’s got to be “ Jill says as she points her knife at you. You let out a sob as you lean against the counter.  

“How could you do this to her? She is 13, for fucks sake! “ Exclaims Sidney as she shakes beside you. 

“ Oh, shut the fuck up! “ She punches her then looks at Charlie and he nods. He walks over to the closet and there is a tied up Trevor. You let out another sob as Jill hands Charlie the knife. “ Please, do it quickly. I can’t stand her annoying sobs “ Charlie says a quite  yes then turns towards you. Suddenly you feel a stinging pain in your stomach. He twists the knife then pulls it out, only to plug it back in. He repeats it a couple of times. By the time you think he is done, you can't scream anymore. Charlie gets closer to you and puts the knife to your throat. You look at Jill with tears streaming down your face.

“ Please “ 

As Charlie was about to slice the knife across your throat, Sidney pushes him away from you and you fall down to the ground. The last thing you saw was Jill attacking Sidney, then everything went black. 

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

A week later you wake up in a hospital bed with Sidney, Gale and Dewey by your side. But also with memories that could never be fully erased from your mind.

“ Y/N! “ Sam nearly shouts as she sooks your shoulders. You snap out of it and look at her. “Y/N, finally. We have been calling your name for the past five minutes. “ She pauses “ Judy wants to know where you were when I was attacked. “

You nod and look at the sheriff “ I was just outside this room. A lot of people walked by. Ask them “ You say as you blink away your tears.

“ No. It’s alright. I know it wasn’t you. “ She smiles lightly at you. 

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

“ I still don’t know why i’m here, but at least i can have free alcohol “ You shout over the music while looking at Chad. He nods his head with a smile then says “ I’m going to go look for liv. “ You hum as you take another cup of cheap beer. 

You were currently at Amber’s house. You didn’ know why,  she thought it would be a good idea to throw a party in the middle of a killing spree. Especially right after  her friend was killed.

After a while you hear cheering from the front door and walk over to see Sam, Tara and Richie. You walk up to Tara and Amber “ What are you doing here? “ 

“ Uh, I was attacked at the hospital, so we are leaving. “ You glance at Sam, disappointed. Leaving, huh. More like running. But that is just what Sam does. There is a problem that is a little too much for her? She runs. You have been also thinking about leaving. But for starters, you can’t afford it and there is no point. It will haunt you forever anyway.

“ Uh, not to be rude. Or anything, but can you hurry up? I really don’t wanna be here. “ Richie spoke up from beside the door.

You nod and step away from Tara. 

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

 Here you were, once again. In a kitchen with both the killers and Sidney. Also Gale is there and Sam. You just found out what had happened to Dewey. You were heartbroken, yes. But you couldn’t feel anything other than physical pain, as you have been shot. 

“ And then here. We have the one and only Y/N Roberts ! “ Richie’s grin was making you even angrier. But you couldn’t do anything, because you knew if you would, there would be consequences. “ I mean, I still don’t understand how someone can survive that brutal stabbing. But Hey! You probably won’t this time! “ He laughs maniacally in your face.  He looks back at Amber “ Go get Tara “ You hear Sam gasp slightly beside you. “ And as for you, I think it was about this time when you were almost killed, right ?” He laughs and you look at him, terrified of what will happen next. 

Around five bullets were fired. Every single one of them straight into your abdomen. You fall to the ground as you look down at your lower torso, seeing blood flowing  out of you . You look back at him, you vision blurry “ Go to hell, you motherfucker ! “

In a matter of minutes Richie was tackled onto the ground by Sam and they started fighting. You see Sam running away and let out a breath. Sidney and Gale are quick to run to you “ Oh my gosh, Y/N ! Hey, hey, look at me. You are going to be okay. “ You hear Sidney say as Gale puts pressure on your wounds. You groan.

You see Amber coming from the living room and shout “ Look out! “ They look behind themselves and get up. As you are watching them fighting with Amber you feel helpless. You knew you couldn't do anything, but still felt like you should.

You see Amber catch fire and gasp, suddenly you are being helped up by Gale “ Okay, let’s get out of here. “ She says as you guys start walking. You walk to where Sam is and there you see Sam standing over Richie’s lifeless body. “ Careful. They always come back “ Says Sidney as Gale still is holding you up to help you stand on your feet. Sam takes the gun from her and shoots Richie in his chest two times before she shoots him in his head. 

“ Okay, then “ Gale says as she shakes her head and turns her head to check on you. Suddenly you hear screaming and turn around to see a half-burn Amber running towards you before she is shot in the head. You all turn back around and see Tara with a gun in her hand “ I still prefer the Babadook. “ Sam runs up to her and hugs her.

Later when the ambulance arrives you are sitting in the back of one, bandages wrapped around your torso tightly . You see Sam and Tara talking then Sam starts walking towards you. “ Hey” You nod and look at her. She sits beside you. “ Look, I know that what I did was wrong and that you didn’t deserve it. But I just couldn’t handle it anymore so I left. And not telling you and just leaving was not fair on your side. All I'm asking for is your forgiveness, Okay? And if you don’t want to be with me I can understand that. And yes that means i still love you an-” You cut her rambling off by kissing her. She is taken aback for a moment before melting into the kiss and closing her eyes. You were the first to pull back and blush “ You should know by now that I forgive, but don’t forget “ She laughs and hugs you, careful not to hurt you. 

Maybe this was it. Your happy ending. But even if it wasn’t you knew you won’t face the bitter future alone. Not this time. This time you have Sam by your side. And that was everything you’ve ever wanted.

[jobean12-blog]

Shades of Gray

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,079

Summary: It’s no secret that the tension between you and Bucky is thick but all it takes to push you over the edge is a little bit of gray. 

Author’s Note: This is nothing other than my horny ass thirsting over the gray in Seb’s beard in his latest insta story. I cannot handle it. He looks amazing, had to get something out. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my sweet @firefly-graphics thank you love! 🥰

Warnings: flirting, teasing, tension, light dirty talk, a curse or two, smuttiness (18 + ONLY PLEASE!!!)

Gif NOT MINE: Credit goes to @mostlybuckystuff

“You’re staring again.”

Your eyes linger, falling to Bucky’s fingers as he rubs them over his beard.

A hand waves in front of your face, blocking your view and you push it out of the way with a huff.

“I can’t…what are you?” you stammer, grumbling when you look back to the far end of the bar and Bucky’s gone.

“Wow,” Nat deadpans.

“WHAT?” you mutter when you notice her impish expression.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re eye fucking Bucky tonight?” she asks, leaning in eagerly and sipping her drink.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you shrug. “I was just lost in thought.”

“What kind of thoughts?” she prods.

“I forgot!” you answer, your tone contemptuous.

“I don’t believe you…”

If Nat finishes her sentence you wouldn’t know because Bucky reappears by the bar and starts to walk toward you. Your eyes go wide as you stare over Nat’s shoulder and down the rest of your drink.

“Hiya doll. Hi Nat,” he says. “Looks like I’m just in time. Need another drink?”

His gaze is on you, the intensity making you swallow hard as you try not to let your eyes drop to his beard.

“Yeah, thanks,” you say with a nod.

Bucky turns to get the bartender’s attention and Nat takes the opportunity to elbow you in the ribs.

“Wipe the drool off your face babe. What is going on with you?” she whispers.

You instinctively lift your fingers to your mouth and wipe the corners before dropping your hands and rubbing your sweaty palms on your dress.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” you grit out.

Your eyelashes lower and you try to discreetly avert your gaze but instead you’re staring at him again. You drag your teeth over your bottom lip and make a small whimper.

Bucky’s head whips around. “You ok doll face?”

You awkwardly clear your throat and squeak out a yes. He gives you a lopsided smirk and a wink.

The bartender grabs his attention and you let out a shaky breath.

“That’s it!” Nat says. “Spill it!”

As you watch Bucky chat with the bartender the light catches his chin and highlights a patch of gray.

“Oh my god,” you gasp.

Nat follows your line of sight and her red lips spread into a knowing grin.

“Here you go doll,” he says as he hands you your drink.

“Thanks,” you say quietly, drinking half of it.

“Woah, slow down doll face,” he laughs. “You sure you’re ok?”

“Yep,” you say and smack your lips. “Never better.”

Nat excuses herself to find Clint but Bucky’s eyes are on you, clearly assessing. Thankfully, he doesn’t push any further and you fall into easy conversation. You try to focus on his words, try to focus on his eyes and how they light up when he talks about something funny or how they crinkle at the corners when he laughs, but you just can’t stop your eyes from drifting down to his beard.

“Do I have something on my face doll?” he asks, rubbing his hand over his cheeks.

“Huh?” you reply, dragging your eyes back up.

He waits.

You stare.

“Oh. Umm…no. Not at all. Your face is great. Better than great actually.”

His eyes narrow with a slight cock of his head before he takes the drink from your fingers and grabs your hand, pulling you away from the bar and down the empty hallway.

He stops by the coat check door and pushes you against the wall, crashing both his hands alongside your head and caging you in.

“Doll,” he warns, dipping his head. “Something you want to say to me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Bucky.”

He leans in closer, giving you a better view of the patches of gray scattered throughout his beard.

“Fuck,” you moan and lift your fingers.

Your thumb presses just under his bottom lip and you drag it over the soft gray hairs.

His breath hitches at your touch and his eyes drop to your mouth.

“Don’t you dare give me that bullshit…”

“Your beard,” you mewl. “The gray…I just…”

You continue to caress his beard, your fingertips brushing over the gray spots.

“You just what?” he hums. “Use your words doll face.”

You drag your nails through the thick scruff on his cheeks before sliding them up into his hair. You give it a sharp tug and whisper his name.

“Fuck me,” you mutter when he hisses and inches closer.

“Is that what you want angel?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper but still holding enough promise that you tremble in his arms.

Your hands drop to his chest and you drag your fingers over his tight shirt, feeling every muscle flex beneath your touch. He drops his head, burying his face in your neck and running his nose along your skin with an inhale before lightly closing his teeth around your earlobe.

Your back arches off the wall and your breasts rub along his chest, a desperate moan escaping your lips. He nudges your legs open with his knee, the friction of the thick muscle between your legs making you weak.

His hot breath fans against your ear and he whispers, “answer me.”

Your eyelashes close with a flutter. “Yes.”

“Yes what?,” he demands. “Say it.”

You run your tongue across your parted lips and brush your fingers along his jaw, still focused on the gray.

His metal fingers dig into the wall, cracking the plaster. The sound of the whirring plates makes you rock your hips over his thigh, desperate for any release.

“I want to hear you say it angel,” he rumbles, dropping his hands to still your movements.

“I want you…” the words are low and breathy as you lift your head and brush your lips to his, “to fuck me.”

Your lips ghost over his cheek and you graze your nose along his beard, feeling every inch of his taut muscles pressed against you.

He removes his thigh and you can feel his smile when you let out a whine of frustration. His metal fingers drop lower, roaming along your skin until they reach the hem of your dress and slip under.

Cool fingers tease between your legs and when he rubs one along your wet panties he purrs with satisfaction.

“Such a good girl. So wet for me. I can’t wait to see what you look like with my cock inside you.”

@book-dragon-13 @christywantspizza​ @dreamlessinparis​ @hiddles-rose​ @jhangelface0523 @loricamebackyetagain​ @lookiamtrying​ @goldylions​ @loki-laufeyson-1054​ @maladaptivexxdaydreaming​ @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin​ @seitmai​ @breakablebarnes​ @rebel-stardust​ @weekendgothgirl​ @hiddles-and-skittles​

[sasusakucoded]

Two year-old Sarada is very clingy to Sasuke. No matter what he does, she's always seen with him. Thus, other people call Sarada his little shadow.

Sakura: You're going?

Sasuke: Yeah. I'll buy milk and diapers from the store.

Sakura: Good luck with that. *points at their door blocked by Sarada*

Sasuke: Sarada.. Come on. *motions that he'll lift her up* Papa will go out. So please excuse me..

Sarada: *crosses her arms* Noooo! S-Stay! *remains seated*

Sasuke: Sarada..

Sarada: No.. *starts crying* No!

Sasuke: *carries her* I'll go back as soon as it's done.. *plants a kiss on her cheek*

Sarada: Noooo! Sarada go Papa! *cries louder*

Sasuke: You want to go with me?

Sarada: Yes! *clings on his neck tightly*

Sasuke: *looks at Sakura* Guess I can't say no to that..

Sakura: Do you want me to come with you?

Sasuke: No, it's fine. We'll be back soon. Right, Sarada?

Sarada: *still clinging* Yes.. Go! Go!

Sasuke: *laughs* You sure can't wait, huh?

Sarada: Papa! *taps his head* Me! Me!

Sasuke: You want here? *points at his neck*

Sarada: Yes!

Sasuke: *goes out the door and places Sarada on his shoulders* Hold onto Papa's head okay? Sakura. We're off. Bye!

---

Sarada: *hugs Sasuke's leg with a pacifier in her mouth, while he's vacuuming the floor*

Sakura: Anata!

Sasuke: What?

Sakura: *looks at him knowingly*

Sasuke: She likes it like that, Sakura.

Sakura: But Sasuke-kun..

Sasuke: Try to take her away.

Sakura: Sarada! Come to Mama. Papa will just finish up cleaning.

Sarada: *throws the pacifier and hugs the leg tighter*

Sasuke: See?

Sakura: But Sarada.. Your clothes will be dirty..

Sasuke: No, the floor is clean.

Sakura: Anata, I'm trying to persuade her!

Sarada: Nooo.. Papa! Papaaaaa! *starts crying*

Sasuke: It's okay, Sarada. You can stay there.

Sarada: *still crying*

Sasuke: Let Papa carry you? Come?

Sarada: *looks up and sees her Papa extending his hand* Papaaaa!

Sasuke: *carries her and wipes her tears*

Sakura: You know what, I'll do this. You two go to her toy room instead.

Sasuke: Okay. Let's go, Sarada?

Sarada: Toys! Toys!

---

Naruto: *stares*

Shikamaru: *stares*

Sai: *stares*

Sasuke: Are we starting or what?

Naruto: You know you can't just bring your child here.

Sasuke: She's well behaved, what's the matter? Besides, she won't stop crying if I leave her at home.

Shikamaru: It seems that having a daughter is very different.

Sai: Yeah. My son is not clingy. He's okay to stay with Ino all the time.

Naruto: Ah, wait. *takes a high chair from another room* Sarada! Sarada!

Sasuke: *looks at him*

Naruto: Do you want to sit here? *shows the high chair*

Sarada: ...

Naruto: Come on, it's more comfortable here! Boruto likes to sit here.

Sasuke: So you've also brought your child here..

Naruto: Hey, that's out of the question! Sarada, come? Stay here..

Sarada: *looks at her Papa* Nooo! *starts crying*

Sasuke: Tsk, Naruto!

Naruto: I– I didn't mean to—

Sasuke: She's so comfortable on my lap. Why would you make her transfer? *gets up and carries Sarada* It's okay. You can stay with Papa..

Shikamaru: I haven't seen you talk like that, Sasuke.

Sai: Yeah. Very unlikely of you.

Sasuke: *sighs* Can we get this meeting done quickly?

Naruto: *panics* Y-Yes! Sit, please. We'll start.

---

Sakura: *kisses Sasuke's cheek*

Sarada: *sees* Nooo! My Papa! *kisses Sasuke's cheek*

Sakura: *laughs* Yeah he's your Papa. *teases to kiss Sasuke again*

Sarada: Noooo! Mamaaa! Stooop! *hugs Sasuke*

Sakura: Sarada, can I also hug Papa?

Sarada: Nooo! Not your Papa! Sarada Papa!

Sasuke: *laughs*

Sakura: *laughs* He's not my Papa?

Sarada: *removes Sakura's hand on Sasuke's chest* Nooo!

Sakura: You might be Papa's baby during the day but I'm his baby at night..

Sasuke: *puts his hand on Sarada's right ear and pushes the left ear to his chest* Sakura! We have little ears here!

Sakura: *laughs*

Sarada: *removes Sasuke's hand from her ear* Papa baby Saradaaa!

Sasuke: Yeah, you're my baby. *kisses her forehead*

Sakura: *whispers to his ears* Me too..

Sasuke: Yeah.

Sarada: Nooo! *cries*

Sasuke: You want to be Papa's one and only baby?

Sarada: *nods*

Sasuke: Of course Sarada is my baby!

Sarada: *laughs and hugs Sasuke*

Sasuke: *mouths to Sakura* And you too..

Sarada: *sees* Nooo! *cries again*

[rookie-chenford]

Was it worth the risk?

@looby1302 I hope I did this justice for you. If there's any spelling errors, I apologize it's late and I also can't see through tears lol. But thank you for putting this idea out into the universe. As soon as I saw your post about it, I knew I had to write it.

Description: Chenford's break up but with a twist.

Words: 703

Warnings: Just pure sadness

At the sound of the door opening, Lucy looks up and sees Tim walking towards her. “Come here.” She says opening her arms and embracing Tim. “How’d it go with IA?” Tim pulls back from the hug. He hesitates a moment before answering. “I-I lied about everything. I mean I saved my job, right? Protected you and Lopez.” Lucy shook her head. “It was an impossible situation. I would have done the same thing if I was in your place.” This time it was Tim's turn to shake his head, knowing Lucy would never do what he’d just done. “You wouldn’t have been in my place. You never would have put self-interest over your team.”

“Look, you thought you could handle it. You were wrong. But you made it right. So it’s fine.” Tim scoffs. “Yeah.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “I wish it was that easy. Lucy, I just lied to two men I deeply respect, okay? I just betrayed everything I thought was right about myself.” Lucy goes to speak, but he stops her. “No, no, you gotta let me finish, okay? This is very hard for me to say.” Lucy places her hands on Tim’s shoulders to ground him. “Okay.” She nods for him to continue. “Lucy, I’ve been lying to myself for a long time. That’s clear to me now, and I can’t, I can’t just go back to the way things were. Not right now. Maybe never.” He swallows thickly, trying to keep his emotions at bay. Lucy searches Tim’s eyes, not believing he’s breaking up with her, but the words still escape her lips. “Wait. Are you breaking up with me?” Tim hesitates to answer. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracks on the last word. Lucy sighs before speaking, trying to form the words in her head, but stumbles over her words. “You don’t. You don’t get to do that. You don’t. You don’t get to lie to me and then use that as an excuse to leave me, okay? That’s not okay.” “I know.”

“That’s not okay.” “I know.”

“What you’re doing is not okay.” “I know.”

Tim takes a breath before continuing. “You. You are an incredible person.” Lucy looks away from him, telling him no, not believing that he is actually doing this. “No, you’re incredible, okay? You deserve so much better.” Lucy scoffs. “Oh, my God.” Her face hardens, anger seeping in now. “That’s why I’m walking away.” Lucy’s voices crack as she speaks. “Don’t do this. Why are you doing this?” She pulls her hands away from his, anger and sadness flowing through her body. “Why are you doing this?” She asks again. Tim grabs the sides of Lucy’s face. “I’m sorry.” He kisses her forehead. Before he turns to leave, Lucy pulls something out of her back pocket and shoves it into Tim’s chest, making him stumble a little. “Worth the risk, huh? Congratulations.” Lucy turns and opens the driver’s side door, making quick work of putting her seatbelt on and driving away. Tim pulls his hand back from his chest and stares at the black and white photo. Disbelief washes over his face at the realization of what Lucy just handed him.

Lucy unlocks her apartment door and steps inside quietly, not wanting to disturb Tamara. She sets her bag down and takes her shoes off by the door. Quietly making her way to her room, she shuts the door and leans against it. Small tears turn into full-on sobs as she slides down the door. She brings her hands up to her mouth trying to muffle the sounds. She truly can’t believe the love of her life broke up with her, leaving her and their baby alone. After a moment, she pulls herself together and continues with her nightly routine, staying in the shower longer than she normally did. She pulls back the comforter and slides in, getting as comfortable as she can since Tim is no longer there. Her hand makes its way down to the lower part of her belly, rubbing just below her belly button. “We’re going to be okay.” She says as a single tear runs down the side of her face. “I hope.”

[millersdjarin]

I Only See Daylight

Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: E

Chapter warnings/tags: reader mentions she is a virgin but it's not a big deal, reassurance, softness, bonding, friends

Chapter length: 4.7k

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist & Info | Full Masterlist

I don’t wanna think of anything else now that i thought of you (things will never be the same)

You wake up with the kid plopping down onto your legs.

It scares you; you almost jump out of your skin until you look and realise it’s just Grogu. He’s jumped from his hammock, and is now standing on your knee, staring at you like he wasn’t expecting you to be there. 

It’s the first morning he’s ever found you in Din’s bed, and Din’s not here.

“Morning, kiddo,” you say groggily. “I know, I’m not usually here, huh?” 

He looks at you for another minute, then reaches out his hand, grabbing hold of yours and pulling you in the direction of the door.

You laugh. “I know, you’re hungry. I’m coming, just give me a second. Go wait by the ladder.” 

Happily, he hops down from the bed and waddles through to the hold. He disappears from sight, and you sit up, wincing against the pain still in your shoulder. Your legs are stiff, too, and it takes your brain a second to catch up to why. A soft gasp escapes your lips as the memories of last night flood your mind. Your hand comes up to touch the point on your neck that Din marked you, a smile twitching at your lips. You can still feel his lips, his mouth, his hands, all over your skin, between your legs. Even the way he touched you as you fell asleep is like the most precious of ghosts, brushing across your skin, a memory of him that demands to be reproduced. 

The kid is waiting for you when you get up. You smile at him, because of course you do. There’s no way you couldn’t. 

“Hold on, kid,” you say as you scoop him up into your arms. He hooks his arms around your neck as best he can, grabs onto your shirt with his little hands. It’s harder for you to climb the ladder at the moment with your shoulder the way it is; it hurts every time you use it, but especially going up the ladder, trying to haul your weight up on each wrung. It doesn’t help that your legs are stiff as fuck, too. But the fact that it came from so much pleasure, from sitting on Din’s lap and fucking yourself onto his fingers, that makes up for it.

Din is in the cockpit. You glance at the steps that lead up there, feeling your cheeks blush. You feel shy to see him, all of a sudden. Like after last night, things have changed, even though you know they haven’t. He still held you last night with the same tenderness he always has. Still talked to you like he knew you, wanted you.

But the phantom feeling between your legs is a lot, and you’ve never had that before. Not from someone else’s hand. 

So, for a while, you use the excuse of feeding the kid and yourself. The two of you sit around the table, munching on ration bars and some fruit you have left over from a market stall on Coruscant. The kid loves it. “It needs eaten quickly before it goes bad, so eat as much as you want,” you tell him, to which he responds with a big grin and a happy coo. 

Once your stomachs are both full, you glance at the cockpit again, catching the quickest glimpse of some beskar shining in the light of hyperspace. Your stomach flips, heat rising in your cheeks. He wasn’t in bed when you woke up. You haven’t seen him since last night. 

You busy yourself washing dishes in the little pull-out sink. A few minutes later, you hear boots on the steps, headed down from the cockpit into the living area.

Your head turns, and Din is standing there, leaning against the stairs entrance, just watching you.

“Morning,” you say. “Or, you know. Whatever time of day it is.” 

“Good morning,” he says. The kid hops down from the sofa and runs over to Din, who picks him up, props him against his hip. “Hey, kiddo. You eaten breakfast already?”

“We finished up that fruit from the market. Didn’t want it to go bad. Are we still on schedule?” You can’t quite look at him; you know you’re blushing intensely, so much that you can feel it on the tips of your ears and round the back of your neck. You hope he can’t see it, can’t see the way you’re feeling too shy, aware of his gaze like it’s different this morning. 

“Yes,” he answers, still standing across the room. “A day’s rotation left.” 

“You going stir crazy yet?” 

“A little,” he says, then, with a smile in his voice, “but it’s not so bad. We’ve found ways to keep ourselves busy.” 

The blushing intensifies. He’s probably doing it on purpose. Because he always likes to point it out when your cheeks turn red. 

You hear his boots, taking steps towards you along the floor. The dishes in the sink are clean, so you reach for the towel to dry them off, and once you’re standing upright again, you feel a gloved hand slide around your waist, settling flat against the roundness of your stomach. Your breath hitches a little. “You alright?” 

You nod, not looking back at him. “I’m good. How’d you sleep? I didn’t snore, did I?” 

“You always snore,” he chuckles a little. “But it didn’t bother me.” 

The kid is looking over your shoulder from where he sits against Mando’s side. He reaches out towards the bubbles in the sink, and you can’t tell him no; you lift up a handful of suds, hold them out in front of him, and then blow them into his face. 

He jumps back, but the giggle that comes out of him is ecstatic. His hands wave about excitedly, asking you to do it again. 

Putting down the last of the dishes, you gather more suds on both hands this time, and turn around to face the two of them. Din’s hand stays where it is, letting your body move and settling his palm against the small of your back now. You blow bubbles at the kid again. They explode in little white orbs around his face and his eyes light up with glee.

Din chuckles. You glance up at him before turning around to do the whole thing again. “He likes that,” Din says, looking down at the kid, bouncing him up and down just a little like he’s not even aware he’s doing it.

He does like it, but the novelty soon wears off. Probably for the best, though, since the suds are starting to run low in supply. Grogu leans down, gesturing for Mando to put him back on the floor. Once he’s there he waddles off towards the cockpit, headed for his chair where he likes to sit and watch worlds zoom by. 

Then it’s just you and Din. He turns to look at you, his hand still on your back. 

Still just a little nervous to see him after last night, you clear your throat. “Hey,” you say, quiet. 

He leans down and presses his forehead into yours. “Hey, Cyar’ika. You sure you’re okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You’re blushing.” 

You roll your eyes, placing your hand on his chest. Instinct. “Would you stop pointing it out?” 

You expect him to chuckle, or just huff out a small laugh at your playful tone. But he just looks at you, unmoving. To be fair, your voice is just a smidge hysterical. You’re not a good liar. “What’s wrong?” 

Swallowing, you look up at him with wide eyes. “Nothing’s wrong,” you say, meaning it. Because there isn’t anything wrong. You’re just…feeling. A lot.

“Did I hurt you last night?” He asks, his helmet moving as his eyes float down to your shoulder. 

“No! No, you didn’t. I mean, I’m maybe a little sore…” 

“Cyar’ika…” 

“I don’t mean like that!” You’re quick to assure him, “Not…like that. I just mean…my legs are stiff. After, you know. Using them a lot.” You’re a grown adult. You can say what you did last night out loud.

Except, you can’t. 

It happened in the dark, when you were both tired, running on fumes from the ordeal the day before, desperate to be close. You’re certain he doesn’t regret it. It’s not that. It’s just…

“I’ve never,” you find yourself saying, faltering, “I’ve never done that before.” 

“You mean, sleep with someone?”

“No. Well, yes. I mean, when we were…” you nod towards the sofa, where last night he literally reached parts of you that no one ever has.

His hand rubs in circles over the small of your back, comforting. “You mean have someone touch you like that?”

Biting your bottom lip, you nod. You wonder what his face looks like; if he looks amused by it, or put off.

You’re grown. It’s weird. He probably expected you to have…but you never had the chance to…

“Was it okay?” He asks, sounding like he’s frowning. “I didn’t pressure you…?” 

You laugh at that, because you can’t help it. Because of course he didn’t—you practically threw yourself at him. “It was perfect,” you say, chuckling and bringing your other hand up to place softly against the side of his helmet. “I’m just. I never thought I’d find someone I trust enough to…see that side of me. It’s a lot, you know?” 

He nods like he understands. He tilts his head, presses the front of his helmet to your hand, like on instinct he’s turned to kiss your palm. 

“I liked it,” you assure him. “I really liked it. I want—I want to do it again. Like, as soon as possible.” 

He relaxes beneath your hands, a soft chuckle coming through his modulator. “Good. Me, too. You were amazing, Mesh’la, I’ve never known anything like it.” 

Excitement leaps up your chest. You smile, feeling your eyes shining up at him.

“How’s your shoulder?” He brushes your hair away from it. He doesn’t pull your shirt down, but observes it like he can see the wound anyway. 

“It’s alright,” you say, wrinkling your nose. “Hurts. But it’s healing quickly with the bacta.” 

He nods. His fingertips brush against your cheek. 

“I’ve never been to Tatooine,” you say, hooking your hand over the top of his chest plate, holding onto it like you would a handle. “Heard it’s pretty shit.” 

“It’s…not exactly somewhere people go to take a vacation. But I have friends there.” 

“Helpful friends?” 

“For now. I’m not sure yet what the play is in the long run, but we’ll be safe there, for at least a couple of days while we get our bearings.” 

You nod. There’s a wrinkle in his flight suit, between his chest plate and his pouldron. You smooth your hand over it absently, knowing that he’s watching you. “Why do I get the feeling there’s a story here you’re not telling me?” 

“There is,” he says. “I’ll tell you it, if you want to hear it. It’s just long.” 

“Well,” you place your hands on each side of his helmet, “we’ve got nothing but time until we get there. Story time, Mando, come on.” You lead him to the sofa, and he chuckles, following willingly. 

So, Mando has a lot of friends here, as it turns out.

Two whole towns of them, apparently. 

“You’re the hero of this place, huh?” You tease him with a smirk as he descends into the port. There’s a small star fighter in there, bright silver, with two bubble canopies. It looks like a Naboo star fighter, with some modifications. 

“I wouldn’t say that,” Din replies, dry. You watch as the port comes up around you, Mando landing beside the other ship. He points to it as the engines shut down. “Remember I told you I had another ship?” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Is that yours?” 

“It is.” 

You take a second to admire it. It is pretty stylish, actually, and you can imagine that Din looks fucking amazing in there. “Wait, is the second little compartment for Grogu?” 

“It is now.” 

“Oh, Maker, that’s so cute,” you laugh, imagining him in there, that little green head poking up through the glass. 

Din steps out of the ship first, the kid in one of his arms. You follow closely, and soon a woman is coming out from the office, all curly hair and oil-covered overalls. 

“Mando!” She says, throwing her hands out to her sides, “Good to see you! How are ya? How’s this little guy doing?” She reaches out, takes him right from Din’s arms, and he lets her without hesitation. Grogu seems pleased to see her, cooing happily and smiling up at her. She looks up from him, sees you. “And who’s this friend of yours? Not like you to come with company, is it, kiddo?” She looks back to him like she can’t resist. Which, fair. 

Din introduces you not by name. No, the way he introduces you is something else entirely, and it rocks your entire fucking world. 

“This is my partner,” he says, gesturing to you as you stop right beside him. 

Your heart jumps.

The floor feels like it’s quaking beneath you. 

“Partner, hey?” The lady seems just as surprised as you, her eyebrows flying up on her forehead. She looks you up and down, puts one hand on her hip. “Well, you must be somethin’, to get this old grump to give up his loner ways.” 

Warmth blooms in your chest. You want to reach out and take his hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” you say to her instead, offering a smile, reaching your hand out for her to shake. 

She does, wearing fingerless, leather gloves. “I’m Peli. Mando’s personal repair lady.” 

You raise an eyebrow, turning to him. 

He glances at you, then back to Peli. “I’m just here to pay you for the hangar space,” he says. “Can I leave both here for a few days?” 

“I don’t know, Mando, with both of them here I don’t have any space for other repairs, and I can’t afford to rent out another hangar…” she fades off when Mando throws a bag of credits on the floor in front of her. It’s heavy, landing with a loud, metallic thunk. Peli looks down at it, then back up at Mando, her face splitting into a grin. “Shouldn’t be a problem,” she says. “What brings you back here?” 

“Business.” 

“You lookin’ for jobs? You didn’t hear this from me, but I got a friend who could do with an old fling being taken care of…” 

“No,” Din says, all business now. “Not looking for work.” 

“Alright, well, you’ve got my number, if you change your mind.” 

“Do you have a speeder?” 

She raises her eyebrow. “Do I have a speeder? Of course I have a speeder, Mando, what do you think this is? But it’s gonna cost ya.” 

Sighing very dramatically, he reaches into his satchel, pulling out another small handful of credits. He shows them to her, then throws them on the ground with the rest. “A two seater,” he requests.

“You always come with so many demands, Mando. You’re lucky some guy tried—and failed—to swindle me the other day and I took his speeder as compensation. It’s in the back, the hangar behind you.” 

He nods. “Thank you,” and takes Grogu back from her. “We’ll be back in a couple of days. Keep my ships safe.” 

“Honey, with what you’re paying me, I’d take a blaster bolt for them.” 

You’ve never been on a speeder before. It’s kind of exhilarating, and only partly because you’re pressed right up against Din and he’s all that’s keeping you attached to the thing. 

It doesn’t take long to get to Mos Espa. You’re already tired of sand, though. It’s getting places.

There are buildings being repaired in the town, light sand-coloured walls and roofs, people pottering around the streets, market stalls, and homes. Din speeds right past the streets, and takes you to his friend’s compound. He parks up outside, announces his presence to the guards, who let all three of you in once checking with their boss.

Their boss who is, apparently, Mando’s friend. 

The guards lead you down a long staircase and into a room with a throne-like seat at one end, and a large counsel space before it. Upon the chair is…wait. A fucking Mandalorian? 

His armour is dark green, nothing like the shiny silver of Din’s; but the shape of it, the T-shape of his visor, the jet pack on his back: undeniably Mandalorian. 

As you approach the throne, the man lifts his hands, and takes off his helmet. 

Oh. 

“Mando,” he grins, stepping down from the podium and reaching out to grasp Mando’s hand in a warrior’s grip. “Good to see you, my friend.” 

Din nods. “And you, Boba,” he says. 

His friend—Boba, apparently—looks to you with a friendly smile. You’re still surprised after seeing him remove his helmet so freely. He’s got a bald head, and scars over his face, mottled and intricate but very well healed, probably thanks to bacta. There’s a woman standing by his chair, with long, dark hair pulled into a single braid, wearing dark clothes and holding a helmet under her arm, too, almost mirroring Boba’s stance. 

“This is my partner,” Mando introduces you, again, and, kriff, you’re going to have to ask him about that later. 

Boba extends his hand towards you. You take it, shaking in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says. “I am Boba Fett. This is Fennec Shand,” he gestures to the woman by the chair, who offers just a slight smirk and a single nod in response. Boba looks back to Mando. “I’ll be honest, Mando, I didn’t think I’d ever see you with a partner. Well, except your little green friend.” 

Grogu coos in response, reaching up his hands like he’s waving at Boba. Boba waves back, giving a smile. 

“What brings you here?” Boba asks Mando. 

“Something only for your ears,” Din answers, glancing around at all the guards and servants posted around the room. 

Boba nods in understanding. “Of course. Please, let’s talk in my office.” He gestures to a corridor that stretches out beyond open double doors, and Din follows, so you do, too. 

Din’s hand brushes against the small of your back as you head down the hall, following Boba and Shand. It’s a small gesture of reassurance, and you appreciate it, wanting to reach out and do the same to him, but resisting the temptation. 

It’s a lot, to hear Din explaining everything to them. 

Well, not everything. 

In fact, he glosses over all of the personal details. He simply tells Boba that there is either a single hunter out to get you, or an entire army of them, and that you need a place to lay low while you figure out your next move. 

You make a mental note to thank him later, for keeping your personal stuff out of it. 

It’s still a lot. Knowing that you’re the cause for all of this. The reason that Din and Grogu can’t just have their own quiet life; the reason they aren’t just here visiting friends for a casual visit.

“Whatever I can do to help, my friend, you know I will,” Boba says. The five of you are standing around a round table in a stone-floored room. He asked all guards to leave the room when you came in. 

“Thank you,” Din says sincerely. “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this.” 

“It’s not a problem. You know that. How long do you think you’ve got, until people come looking for you?” 

Mando shrugs one of his hands. “I’m not sure. Could be days, but I don’t know how they’d follow us here so soon.” 

“Are you planning some sort of attack on this syndicate?” 

“We don’t know yet. Just need some space to work it out.” 

Boba nods. “I understand. For now, please, accept my invitation to stay here. We have spare rooms, for all three of you.” 

“We only need two,” Din says, surprising you. And Boba and Fennec, apparently, because they both raise their eyebrows just slightly and glance between you and Din. 

You feel your cheeks blush. Because of course you’re blushing. 

“Alright,” Boba says, looking like he’s holding back a smile. “And, please, join us for dinner tonight as our guests. No business talk, unless necessary.” 

Mando reaches out to shake Boba’s hand. “Thank you,” he says, “again.” 

One of Boba’s people escorts the three of you to your quarters. It’s a small suite, two bedrooms attached with a bathroom, and a living area out front, the front door leading right into it. 

“We will call you when dinner is served,” the servant says with a smile and a little bow. “Please, do let me know if there is anything I can do to help you.” 

Mando nods appreciatively, and says thank you again, as he so often does. 

Then, the door is closed, and the three of you are left alone. 

You breathe out, feeling relief wash over you, even though you weren’t particularly uncomfortable in the first place. It’s just nice to be alone again, you suppose. 

“You okay?” Din asks as he lets the kid down onto the floor, watches as he waddles away to explore the suite. 

You nod and reach out for him, not able to stop yourself and not wanting to. One of your hands settles on his shoulder, the other on his chest. He reaches out too, placing both hands on the small of your back. “Thank you,” you say, “for not telling them all the details.” 

“They’re not my details to tell,” he answers. 

You smile at him. Then, “So…you called me your partner. Twice.” 

“You are my partner.” 

“Like…a business partner that you do jobs with? Or partner as in lover?” You can’t help the tease in your voice; it’s the best way you know to mask your nerves. 

He tightens his grip on you, pulls you in just a little closer. “Both,” he says, “I hope.” 

Warmth spreads in your chest, light and lovely. “Yeah?” 

He nods once.

You smooth your hand over his chest plate, looking down at it because his gaze is so intense, even through the helmet. “So Boba Fett is Mandalorian?” 

“Yes. His father was Mandalorian; the armour was his.” 

“He takes his helmet off,” you say, glancing up at him, feeling for any tensing of his muscles, gaging his reaction. 

He stays calm, collected. Just nods, gently squeezing your waist. “He wasn’t part of my Creed.” 

You nod. “Was he the first Mandalorian you met who wasn’t?” 

“No.” 

You gaze into his visor, stroking your hand over the cheek of his helmet. He stays still, just watching you, holding you. Even through all that beskar, his presence is the softest thing you’ve ever known. Just him being here is comforting. Beneath your hands, you don’t even feel the cool metal. You just feel him. 

Your mind drifts to why you’re here. To the guards that are all around you, the fact that this is a safe place to lay low. Anxiety still tries to creep in around the edges of your security, your brain trying to think of possible ways that this could be dangerous, that it could go wrong. 

“Do you know what we’re going to do?” You find yourself asking, voice just above a whisper. 

“Not yet,” he says. His thumb smoothes over the fabric of your T-shirt, lightly tickling your waist. “It depends how you want to play it.” 

“What do you mean?” 

He takes your hand, then, and leads you over to the small, beige sofa in the middle of the living room. You sit beside him, keeping your hand in his. “We have a few options,” he tells you, running the fingers of his spare hand over your knuckles. You let his touch calm the racing of your heart. “We can try to outrun them. Stay one step ahead, keep moving.” 

Heavily, you swallow. “We can’t run forever,” you say, rueful, wishing that you could.

He looks at you. He seems to hesitate just a little. 

“What are the other options?” You ask. “What option are you leaning towards?”

A soft sigh escapes his helmet. “We find a way to get them to stop chasing you,” he suggests. “Make it so that they have no choice but to give you your freedom.”

Your heart leaps, both from excitement at the concept and from terror, part of you immediately wanting to protest, say that it will never happen. “How?” You whisper.

“You’ve seen Fett’s presence here. He’s the daimyo of this town; he has a lot of power, and many allies. If we have him on our side, your family would know that he will send his people after them if they ever come for you again.”

Something cold strikes in you, then, as a thought you hadn’t previously considered forces its way into your mind. Your hand in his tenses, every muscle in you seizing like they’re getting you ready to run. 

Din notices. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I just…Fett is…exactly the kind of person my family would have on their payroll,” you say, staring at him with wide eyes. 

“Hey, it’s alright,” he reaches up his hand, brushes it down your cheek. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry. It’s not like that with him.” 

You swallow your nerves, the tears stinging in your throat. “Are you sure?” 

“I trust him,” Din says. Then, after a pause, “But if you don’t feel comfortable here, we can leave. You’re in control of this.”

For a long moment, you just stare at him. Your mind is racing, considering all the options. “You trust him?” 

“With my life.” 

You find yourself nodding. Din doesn’t trust people easily. “If you trust him,” you say, “then I do, too.” 

Din nods, appreciative, and squeezes your hand. He just looks at you for a long moment, gazing at you through his visor like he just can’t get enough of the sight of you. “We don’t have to decide anything now,” he assures you softly. “I’m just thinking of ideas.” 

Tears are stinging the backs of your eyes. It feels like your mind hasn’t had chance to just stop for days. There are so many ways this could go, and you’re constantly aware of the fact that not only are you in danger, but so is Grogu. Kriff, so is Din. This whole thing is a fucking mess. And you can’t help but feel like it’s your fault. Like it would have been the better option for him to just let you go. 

“Hey,” Din’s soft voice breaks through the chaos in your mind. “Look at me?” 

You hadn’t even realised you’d looked away. 

“This is not your fault,” he says, cupping your cheek in his gloved hand, “and you are not alone. I promised you my protection, and I meant it. And that was before…” his fingertips gently push through your hairline. 

Your lips twitch into a smile. “Before we became partners?” You ask, going for teasing, but just coming out at downright sappy.

“Yes,” he says simply, not seeming to mind the very clear emotion in your tone. “So I mean it even more now. When I tell you I’ll keep you safe.” 

Looking up at him, forcing yourself not to look away despite the guilt in your chest, you nod. 

“I can see you’re overthinking,” he says. “Stop it.” 

You chuckle sadly. “I wish it was that simple.” 

He rests his forehead against yours. You hold on to his wrist, letting your eyes fall closed. “After dinner, once the kid’s asleep,” Mando says, and his voice has dropped lower than usual, “you want me to help you relax?” 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip. Anticipation strikes through your stomach, between your legs. You nod, grab his cowl in your fist. “Please,” you whisper. 

There’s a knock at the door. 

“Dinner will be in thirty minutes,” a polite voice calls through. 

“Thank you,” Din responds, loud enough for them to hear. He waits for the footsteps to retreat down the hall, then turns to you again. You imagine that he’s smiling. Anticipation in his eyes, whatever that may look like.

notes: y'aallllll your comments and interactions on this fic mean SO much to me, i can't even express. thank you for being here for the ride & enjoying it so much! i hope you enjoyed this chapter just as much! take care of yourself, ilysm ❤️❤️

taglist (18+):

@toobsessedsstuff @granillx @keepingitlokiii @shoe1412 @kiruoris @quentinor @yourunstablegf @moonknight-s-cumdump @senassn @samanthacookieone @local-fanfic-addict @your-slutty-gf @brilliantopposite187 @whenpugzfly @elsasshole @moony-toasts

@julesjewelss36 @jbcalway @mxlsmith @indec1sive @lordhavemurthy @booktvmoviefangirl @brokenghostgirl1 @competitivedust @lostinsideourminds @laramcflyy @gloryekaterina @ellesvoid @uncle-eggy @astronymity @leithatnight @hosshihusshi @domaniquessidehoe @dancealongthelightofday @loveslide @peqchsoup @megcads @jaguarthecat @silhxvette