#i’m a little shy about the way i like price since i’ve mostly seen him written much rougher

[xappetites]

just a quick soft thought:

riding Price in bed, after a quiet night, adjusting to hit just the right angle only to have him groan out encouragement

“that’s it, love, use all the tools at your disposal”

“you’re re not a tool at my disposal”

reader laughs, breathless and a little high pitched, sliding their palms up his chest to cup his cheeks. following in their path with sloppy kisses over his collarbones, his neck, the corners of his mouth

“you’re the man i love”

[harrypotter-imaginess]

A/N: I loved doing this one guys, and I hope you love it too. Might do a part 2 not sure yet, as always commissions are still open until 3/10 message if your interested- price list is here

- Okay this is the ship guys this is it-

- This is like Hades and Persephone type of love

- Everyone thinks that Regulus is someone to be feared because of his family, and everyone knows they dabble in the dark arts

- And everyone is so caught up in his family-

- In the estate, and those dark rumors, and their dark magic-

- That no one see’s Regulus is just a boy-

- A lonely boy with no real friends, not really

- It’s worse now that Sirius has been disowned

- He’s got people around him, boys who’s parents are aquatinted with his

- But they don’t really like him

- They just hang around because they want a flicker of his power

- Of that ancient dark magic everyone’s convinced he’s got

- Everyone except you that is

- You’re this beautiful, cheerful, precious thing

- He meets you when you’re lost, looking for the bathroom

- “Sorry to bother, but do you know if it’s down the hall?” You ask, he’s seen you a few times; in class, or around the corridors

- Playing gobstones with your ever growing group of friends

- He would be jealous if he wasn’t so surprised that you’re speaking to him at all, aren’t you a muggle born?

- Shouldn’t you be afraid of him?

- Just like everyone else?

- “It’s in the next hallway, that one is moaning Myrtle’s bathroom” he says quietly

- He watches you nod enthusiastically

- Looks like you’ll be on your way now, probably for the best, he wouldn’t want his parents to know -

- “Would you mind showing me?” You ask

- And it’s awfully pushy, but somehow Regulus can’t turn down that bright smile of yours

- You talk to him so easily, like you’re not afraid of him at all

- And it irritates him a little.

- Honestly, even the professors are a little afraid of him

- Everyone is

- So why aren’t you

- “Do you-“ he stops in the middle of the corridor, and you walk a few steps forward before realizing he’s not beside you anymore

- “Do you know who I am?”

- You must not, that’s the only explanation

- When you find out you’ll go as pale as the moon, and afterward you will regale the tale for your many friends, how you barley escaped the fearsome Regulus Black, right before he was about to curse you with his dark magic.

- But you only offer a quizzical expression and a smile

- “You’re Regulus Black”

- You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world

- It only makes him upset, but he doesn’t know why

- In fact since the moment he met you there’s been this burning irritation lingering in the back of his mind, and he just can’t seem to pin point why

- But regardless of the reason, it seems to be boiling over right now, in an empty corridor in the middle of the night

- “Shouldn’t you be afraid? I could curse you right here if I wanted”

- But the smile on your face remains

- “Maybe, but you won’t” you muse

- He laughs

- “Why because you think I’m afraid getting expelled?”

- Honestly his parents would welcome him with a feast if he came home for attacking a muggle born

- It would be a sign he wasn’t going to become like Sirius after all

- Because that’s the worst thing a person could be according to his parents-

- A blood traitor

- But instead of quaking in your shoes you flash him a quizzical smile

- “Nah, I just don’t think you’re that kind of person” you shrug

- The words echo in his mind long after you’ve said them

- And though he’s looked at you before

- He’s only really looking at you now, the easy way your lips curl into a smile, the sparkle in your eye, the glow around you-

- Like you’re made of sunlight

- Like you breathe life into all things wherever you go

- Like an ancient witch he heard of , heralded as the goddess of spring

- Like Persephone

- Ah, so that’s it

- It’s not that he hates you

- It’s that he envies you

- Because seeing how natural it is to see you do good, makes him hope -  it makes him yearn to be like that too

- To be more than an heir to his family’s dark legacy

- “I could be wrong though” you shrug, you can count on one hand how many times you’ve been right about something

- But still, you just don’t buy that the shy kid in front of you is some evil prodigy bent on destroying the world

- “No” Regulus’s voice cracks, and it’s soft, so soft you almost don’t hear it.

- But your turn to him, eyes jumping from one of the many paintings in the corridor to his pale face

- His eyes seem glossy as they look into yours, and it’s not just because of the light from the torches

- “No, I’m not that kind of person” he says with a bit more strength this time, and you grin

- And while you feel that there’s something important about the moment, you don’t realize the monumental significance this chance meeting holds for Regulus

- “Oh, we passed the washroom” he realizes after a moment, he was so caught up in talking to you he hadn’t realized

- “Ah, that’s okay I didn’t have to use the bathroom anyway” you say with a wave of your hand

- Huh?

- Noticing his expression you get a sheepish look on your face

- “Well I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while, but you’re always with people-“

- Yeah he’s sure his “friends” would give off an especially murderous aura if you ever tried to approach them

- “So when I saw an opportunity, I just took it” you admit with a slight laugh

- “I wanted to see what everyone was talking about when they mentioned the ‘Dark Prince’ “ there’s a teasing flint in your eye, and the nickname alone is enough to make him flush red

- “And what’s your assessment?” he manages to ask, a smile stretching across his face

- “Very underwhelming, I came expecting several hexes and a duel, and all I got was a cute boy with pretty eyes”

- This time he really does flush bright red, eyes trained on his shoes

- You laugh, you were mostly teasing

- But he is quite cute isn’t he?

- What’s everyone so scared of anyway? He’s like a shy kitten

- He watches you walk to a particular portrait, whispering a word before it swings open

- “Well see ya around Mr. Dark Prince” you say, sending a teasing wink his way

- Regulus is glowing red, even when he’s tucked in bed, in his common room hours after the meeting. the mere memory of the words you said send his heart racing again

- “They said I’m cute” he’ll recall with a goofy smile spreading across his face

- After that, things are brighter for Regulus

- You pull him into your group of friends, quite literally

- “I-I don’t think this is a good idea” he manages, catching the terrified glances of passerby’s as you tug him forward by his arm 

- What a sight you must be, the literal personification of spring pulling the Dark Prince  himself by the arm through the castle

- The aforementioned Dark Prince having a rosy tinge on his cheeks, which most of the other students misplace for Fury instead of what it actually is:

- Embarrassment with a healthy dash of attraction to aforementioned personification of spring

- “Nonsense, everyone’s dying to meet you Reg”

- When you use his nickname his flush darkens

- No ones ever called him that-

- No one except Sirius and Andromeda

- He likes the way it sounds coming from you

- And you’re right, your friends accept him into their fold immediately

- “You know any curses?” One of your friends asks, it’s in a jovial manner that anyone could tell they’re just teasing but Regulus flinches

- “No, not really” he admits, not any he’s good at anyway

- He did see his parents do something akin to a sacrifice when he was younger with an alter in the full moon, but he really wouldn’t know where to start with that

- “What about gobstones, you know the rules to that?”

- Regulus nods

- “Well lets play then!”

- Before he knows it, it’s like this was always his life

- Laughing with you in class, games of gobstones with your friends and trips to Hogsmeade on the weekend

- Regulus didn’t know that he was yearning for this

- How often had he wished for something like this,

- A place that feels like it’s full of sunshine, where everyone feels accepted, and no one has to feel sad

- This is the happiest Regulus has ever been

- But all dreams must come to an end

- The end of the semester comes around, and he has to go home for Christmas vacation

- You’re standing side by side on the train platform waiting for the train, your trunk lying next to you

- “You’re not taking anything back with you?” You ask

- Regulus shrugs

- “There’s no point, everything I need is at the manse”

- You’ve always been a bit curious about what the Black manor is like

- Probably something grand, large library’s, they probably have one of those record players with the gold horn thing

- And a ballroom

- It probably makes Hogwarts look like a pile of dirt

- But the way Regulus’ face darkens when you ask him about it tells you that- yes they probably do have a ballroom, but there’s other things too, things that are far less pleasant 

- And when he starts talking about his home life, how it’s worse - lonelier- Now that Sirius is at the Potter’s all the time, and there’s no one around to stand between him and his parents

- He notices your heartbroken expression and rushes to comfort you

- “It’s not so bad, Mum’s got her tender moments every so often and-“

- “Regulus” you cut in, and the sound of his whole name leaving your mouth makes him stutter to a stop

- “You’re supposed to feel safe and loved all the time not just sometimes”

- It’s such a basic thing, but when Regulus hears this, he feels like he’s being allowed something

- He feels, for the first time, he’s allowed to be safe and happy

- He’s allowed to be good

- “Why don’t you come home with me for Christmas? It’s probably not as grand as you’re used to-“

- You fidget awkwardly, maybe it’s silly, the prince, Regulus Black, himself sitting on your worn sofa, holding yarn while one of your family member’s knits

- You can picture it though

- You can picture a big smile across his face, indulging the younger children in your extended family in their requests for piggyback rides and for him to participate in their games

- “I want to,” he says, really the fact that you’re offering is enough, more than he could ask for

- “But I can’t”

- And it’s the truth, after Sirius, he can’t make any mistakes, his family won’t stand for it

- He especially doesn’t want to think what would happen to you if they found out he had been spending all of his time with you, a muggle born

- He doesn’t want to think what curses they might inflict you with

- He doesn’t want you to ever be hurt because of him

- “You’ll write to me?” You say it with the fervor of a demand, and it makes a smile curl onto his mouth

- “Everyday” he promises

- And things are exactly as they always were at 12 Grimmauld Place, his mother is distant, only livening up when one of the other ladies shows up for tea

- His father is squirreled away in council meetings

- His cousins are no fun, not really, and Andromeda’s not around anymore since she ran off with Ted

- He likes Ted, though he would never admit it to his family

- Ted is a lot like you, someone with an infinite amount of kindness

- He wonders how they’re doing

- He wonders how Sirius is doing

- He’s probably happy, he always looked happy when he was with his friends

- And so- with a picture of you discreetly kept on his desk, he writes three sets of letters

- The first is for you, to assure you he’s fine, and live vicariously through your spring, through your lovely Christmas moments and imagine himself there too. 

- The second for Andromeda, to ask if she’s doing alright, and to tell her he misses her

- And the last, is for Sirius

- Asking how he is, and hoping he’s well.

- And to say that he understands what Sirius was saying all those years, in their childhood and then into adolescence, Regulus understands now- 

- And he wants to be good too

[luvidzy]

☆ genre: fluff, flower-shop!au

☆ pairing: jin yonghoon x reader

☆ summary: a man walks into your flower shop one day and completely changes everything in your life

☆ word count: 2.3k

The sunlight streamed in through the large glass windows of the store. The AC blew a light breeze through the main room, and you allowed yourself to deeply inhale the soft floral scents of the flower shop.

You always believed that getting a job here was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to you. It was so rare for people to find jobs that they truly loved, especially on the first try, but it seemed like you had been one of the lucky ones. 

The day was fairly slow, as most of the weekdays were. A few people came in looking for bouquets for special anniversaries, or to ask about ordering a few arrangements for parties, but other than that you had been left alone to enjoy the ambience of the store and read a little bit of the book you always kept behind the counter.

You had only gotten a few pages through when the bell above the door chimed. Placing your bookmark softly into the book, you placed it on the counter and stood up to greet the customer.

“Welcome to Start of Spring, what can I help you with today?” you asked, moving to get a better view of the man that had just walked in. He was tall, with brown hair and brown eyes. He had his hands tucked into a tan overcoat, a white turtleneck peeking out from underneath it as he strolled into the shop. He was incredibly handsome and you could feel your cheeks heat up a bit as you watched him.

He turned to you and beamed. You had to shake yourself out of it, reminding yourself that you could not fall for a man that you had literally just met. He removed one of his hands to wave at you politely as you made your way closer to him.

“Hi! I need a bouquet of flowers, but I have absolutely no idea what kind to get. Do you think you could help me out?” he asked. You nodded happily, a smile slipping onto your face. You loved when customers didn’t have a specific flower arrangement in mind. It meant that you could take the reins and make something beautiful from scratch, just the way you preferred to do it. 

“Sure! Usually I recommend making a bouquet of flowers that represent the occasion or what feeling you want to convey,” you explained, looking up at the stranger. You saw his eyebrows furrow a bit in confusion, and couldn’t help but giggle at how his nose scrunched as the gears in his brain turned.

“Flowers are a language. Each flower has a meaning, and even different flower colors can mean different things. It’s an amazing way to tell someone something when you can’t find the words to say it aloud,” you said, before pointing to the large bucket full of tulips that you were in front of.

“Tulips represent love, warmth, and comfort, so we usually include them in bouquets for anniversaries or weddings. Hibiscuses,” you pointed to the vibrant red flowers beside the tulips, “symbolize delicate beauty, so we include those in bouquets for dates, and even bouquets for certain family members.”

The stranger nodded, his lips parted in slight awe. He couldn’t help but observe you as you rambled on about the language of flowers, your eyes sparkling. Finally, you turned to look back up at him with a wide smile on your face. 

“So tell me, what kind of message do you want to convey….?” You trailed off as you realized you’d never gotten the name of the customer that was in front of you.

“Yonghoon. My name is Yonghoon,” He finally spoke up, a shy smile slipping onto his lips. You smiled and nodded.

“What message do you want to convey, Yonghoon?”

“Well, these are flowers for some friends of mine. They have been working really hard lately with our new project, and I want to give them something to show how thankful I am. Our apartment is pretty dull, so I thought some flowers would be a good idea,” Yonghoon explained. 

You nodded, taking in the information, before moving towards the counter to pull out a notepad. “Well, yellow roses often symbolize friendship, so I think those would be an obvious choice. Irises are seen as a symbol of admiration, and they’ll compliment the yellow of the roses quite nicely. And then I think some pink tulips would also fit well with the yellow and the white of the irises,” you said, jotting some things down on the paper.

“I thought you said tulips represent love?” Yonghoon said, which caused you to laugh.

“I did, but I also said different colors can mean different things. Red tulips mostly mean love, but pink tulips represent happiness,” you explained, before handing him the list you had written with the flowers and their meaning. 

“Does this look good? Or would you like me to add anything?” Yonghoon’s eyes darted across your neat handwriting, before looking up with a smile.

“This looks perfect. You really know your flowers,” he joked. You chuckled, before moving to collect the flowers you’d need for the bouquet. 

“I’d hope so. I’ve only worked here for 2 years.” Yonghoon laughed at your quip, his eyes following as you darted across the shop, plucking flowers carefully from their buckets and gathering them delicately in one hand. 

Finally you walked back over towards him, tying the flowers together with a piece of string and wrapping them elegantly in brightly colored tissue paper.

“There, all finished,” you said, holding the masterpiece out to Yonghoon. He smiled at it, gently grabbing it with one hand. As he did, your fingers brushed and you felt yourself flinch slightly at the feeling of electricity that ran down your spine. Despite this, you forced yourself to ignore the now pounding heart in your chest in favor of grabbing the credit card Yonghoon was holding out to you.

“Thank you…?”

“Y/N,” you responded as you handed him his card back. He smiled softly as he slipped the plastic back into his pocket.

“A beautiful name. Thank you, Y/N,” he said, giving you one last nod before exiting out the door. You plopped back down into the chair as you reached for your book, letting out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. You shook your head, blaming your flustered state on the heat because, even though you knew the A/C was on, you didn’t want to admit the real reason for your burning cheeks.

Much to your surprise, Yonghoon continued to come in every week with a new reason to buy flowers. Each visit got longer and longer, with him asking millions of questions on different flowers to the point where you almost couldn’t answer them. However, as much as you did not want to admit it, you didn’t mind the visits he made. He was incredibly easy to talk to, his smile made your heart melt in your chest, and he seemed genuinely interested in everything that you said. Week after week, you found yourself falling deeper and deeper for Yonghoon, and every week you became a little less opposed to the idea of his visits.

Meanwhile, Yonghoon was enjoying every visit that he made to your store. His bandmates, however, could not say the same. Their dorms had been turned into a small flower shop of their own and, while it was pretty, it was not very functional.

“Yonghoon, I can’t even find a spot to put my coffee cup down on the table!” Kanghyun whined as he plopped down onto the couch next to his leader. The other boys nodded their heads in agreement, making mentions of the countless other things that Yonghoons flowers stopped them from doing. Yonghoon pouted as he slumped into his seat, arms crossed.

“But I have no other reason to go see them but to get flowers! I’m sorry that love comes at such a beautiful price,” Yonghoon huffed dramatically. Dongmyeong rolled his eyes as he sat up, crossing his legs.

“Why don’t you just tell them how you feel?” “Are you crazy? What if they say no?”

“They won’t. I’m sure they’re just as enamored with you as you are them. Come on, you can even do it in an extremely dramatic and romantic way, since that’s what you like best,” Harin argued, earning a punch in the shoulder from Yonghoon, who sighed soon after.

“Fine. But if this goes wrong, I’m never getting rid of these flowers.”

2 months after his first visit, Yonghoon walked into the flower shop already greeting you as you sat behind the counter reading as you usually did. You looked and grinned at him, the grin that made Yonghoon’s own heart flutter, before closing your book and standing up.

“Why welcome back. What can I do for you today, Yonghoon?” you asked, pulling out your pen and notepad to write down the flowers that he would need. He smiled as he leaned against the counter and smirked.

“I need a bouquet to confess to someone. I want it to be incredibly romantic, the whole 9 yards, you know?” Yonghoon said. You froze as you heard the words slip out of your mouth. A bouquet to confess to someone should not have made your heart sink the way that it did, but the thought of him romancing another person with the flowers you recommended made you want to throw up and cry at the same time.

“I… I see. Well, why don’t you tell me about them so I can recommend you a bouquet,” you asked, trying to settle your shaky voice. If Yonghoon noticed, he didn’t say anything as he continued to smile.

“Well, they’re extremely pretty and super smart. They are kind and generous, and always know how to make me laugh. I always feel warm when I’m with them, like I just drank the best hot chocolate, and they’re the perfect combination of tough and delicate,” he rambled, listing off thing after thing. Each note that you wrote down about this mystery person had your heart aching. This person sounded perfect, and you were happy for Yonghoon, but you couldn’t help but pity yourself at the fact that he was not buying these flowers for you.

“Well I think red roses are a must… and probably some peonies as well for beauty. We could add some carnations as well, if you’d like?” you asked, trying not to look at Yonghoon. You heard him hum in thought for a moment, before shifting his weight a little bit.

“I think some red tulips and maybe some hibiscuses would be nice,” Yonghoon said. You nodded quickly, writing them down, before handing the list to him with trembling fingers. His eyes scanned it like the first time he had come into the shop, before he beamed and nodded.

“Perfect!” You swallowed harshly, before moving to gather the flowers. You moved slowly, trying to stop the tears that threatened to prick your eyes with each flower that you picked up and held in your grasp.

Finally you had a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers, wrapping them gently and making them look as elegant as you could. After all, even if they were another person, you wanted Yonghoon to like them as much as you liked him.

“Here. I’m sure they’ll love them,” you said, plastering a small smile on your face in an attempt to not look as destroyed as you were feeling on the inside. Yonghoon chuckled lightly and nodded, smiling softly as he looked at the flowers.

“They’ll love them.” The credit card was exchanged, and then you both just stood there, neither of you speaking. You wished Yonghoon would just leave so you could cry in peace, but he fidgeted with the tissue paper around the flowers, his feet seemingly glued to the spot across the counter.

“It’s much harder to do this than I thought,” Yonghoon chuckled out. You looked at him in confusion, trying to figure out what he meant. It was only when you finally looked at his face, making eye contact with him, that he let a warm smile melt across his face, his hands moving to hold the flowers out.

“Is there something wrong with them?” you asked, reaching to take them and inspecting them to try and find the issues. Yonghoon chuckled, running a hand through his silky brown hair, before shaking his head.

“No, they are for you.” You felt like the world had just stopped around you. Your hands froze and you stared at him, mouth parted in surprise. These were for you? But he had said he wanted to use them to confess, and had even described the person to you!

“You were the person that I was describing, and I do want to confess. I want to confess to you,” Yonghoon replied, and you flushed as you realized that your thoughts had been spoken aloud. You held the flowers carefully to your chest, before looking up at him with eyes full of happiness.

“You idiot. You scared me, I thought you were buying these for another person!” you said, reaching out to hit his shoulder playfully. Yonghoon’s expression dropped as he realized his mistake and he sighed, before letting out a weak chuckle.

“Guess I’m not great at this confessing thing.”

“No… you’re wonderful at it. Seriously this is the cutest thing anyone has ever done for me. You used the thing that I love the most to tell me that you like me, and that overshadows any stupid assumptions I may have made,” you said. His expression lit up at your words and he smiled at you brightly.

“Does that mean I have permission to take you on a date?” He asked hopefully. You pretended to think, before nodding eagerly, giggling as you did so.

“It does, but next time buy me flowers from a different flower shop. I want to be surprised.” Yonghoon nodded happily, before he made his way behind the counter to give you a hug.

You melted into his arms, happily hugging him back with affection. There was nothing more perfect than hugging the man you loved in the place that you loved, and you were lucky enough to have that.

[stubbychaos]

To Be Alone With You

Chapter 4 of Saviin’ika

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Pairing: Paz Vizla x Nurse!Reader

Summary: While your Mandalorian continues to work hard to gain your trust as well as your heart, he decides to take you somewhere else just as beautiful as the cave. In return for his act of kindness, you think it’s your turn to give him a present of his own.

Rating: T for the usual stuff! Nothing smutty, just some unresolved sexual tension.

Word Count: 9,000 (I’m so sorry omg, this is literally 99% fluff and then one line at the end that indicates an actual plot coming on, lord help me, I have a problem.)

Warnings: Again, there really aren’t any in this chapter. There are little hints of abuse and growing up in a toxic environment, but nothing too descriptive. Also there’s a tiny bit of sexual tension every now and then (if you squint), but mostly fluff and hurt/comfort.

A/N: It only took until the end of the fourth chapter to finally get to the plot jfc lol. Thank you all for reading and the continuous support and kind words! I hope you enjoy this chapter <3

“What’s going through that pretty head of yours? You’re always thinking and never talking, little nurse.”

You jump a little at the sound of your blue Mandalorian’s deep baritone, blinking owlishly when you realize that your companion has been talking for quite some time now, though you’d been too consumed by your frantic thoughts to register what he was saying. You find it happening more often lately, especially when you’re sitting so close to the heavy-infantry warrior; your thoughts move at a pace that you simply cannot handle and you loathe that you’re suddenly overthinking everything in regards to the strange, intimate relationship you’ve formed with him.

Per usual, he seems as calm and collected as ever, making you even more flustered when his bold nature shines through and overpowers his bashful tone. The little touches and flirty comments seem to come so naturally to him, while you struggle to return the playful sentiments, usually answering him in the form of a shy smile or flushed cheeks that you’re certain he must see through his black visor. It seems to only spur him on more and you think he must realize what he does to you--how he makes you feel.

“I’m just thinking about...” You cringe a little, because what are you going to say to him? 

Sorry, I’m just thinking about you and how much I long for your touch? That I would let you play with my hair every night for the rest of my days if you wished for it? Sorry that I’ve never felt more at home than when you hold me?

It all sounds so foolish and ridiculous and you know you can’t say any of it out loud.

“I-It’s nothing,” You answer lamely, nervously tightening the cape he had let you borrow around your torso; the material was heavier than you’d expected and the comforting weight of it had surprised you when he draped it around your shoulders after a particularly cold gust of wind had left you shivering earlier. Even though the thick material had easily warmed you up from the inside out--along with the sweet gesture--the Mandalorian hadn’t hesitated to wrap a massive arm around your shoulders and pull you closer into his side.

“I’m just daydreaming, I suppose.”

Your blue Mandalorian sighs a little, easily catching your bluff and not seeming all too thrilled that you’re struggling with your emotions, “Saviin’ika...”

You reluctantly look up at your companion, though you focus on the chin of his helmet, rather than where you think his eyes are, “I’m just thinking about the last few days; I’m not... I’m not used to this. I’m not used to people actually...” You quickly look away from him when you feel your eyes burn and your chest heave a little, “I’m just surprised you keep coming back for me--thought you would have left by now.”

You let out a frustrated sigh, realizing how pathetic the words sound as you speak them in a breathy, shaky whisper and a trembling bottom lip.

A hooked index finger tenderly taps just underneath your chin to bring your gaze further up his visor and the softness in his usually gruff voice definitely doesn’t fall on deaf ears, “Your companionship isn’t tiresome or a burden to me. I... I enjoy spending time with you more than you could imagine. I hope one day you can truly believe that.”

You smile feebly and force a tiny, meek nod, reminding yourself that nobody has stuck around this long and that your Mandalorian must not be jesting or patronizing you in any way shape or form.

Another week has passed since he first brought you to the cave and much to your utter astonishment and delight, the Mandalorian had made it a mission to visit you every day since, whether it be to simply walk you to your abode or to take you to the cave so you can relax your feet in the hot springs. After the second time when he takes you to the cave and asks if he can take out your braids again, you think he must genuinely look forward to your company, rather simply resigning to tolerate it. 

The thought of him enjoying something so simple as taking out your braids leaves you breathless and you can’t help but to despise him because nobody should have this kind of impact on your heart by simply stroking your hair.

It still doesn’t completely rid the self-deprecating thoughts from clawing at the back of your mind, tearing open deep wounds that leave you feeling raw and vulnerable. You feel far too exposed to the fearless warrior and oftentimes find yourself closing in on yourself to prevent him from getting inside your mind.

Today, however, your thoughts are relatively calm and you chalk it up to a surprisingly short and uneventful shift at the infirmary, a rare occurrence that leaves you feeling unusually content and energized. Deciding to make the most of the extra energy, you had made your way to the marketplace to get more ration bars and look at the prices on fresh fruit, though you had been slightly disappointed to find the usual vendor had been sold out of their stock. 

Feeling only slightly dejected, you had made your way back to the infirmary where you thought the Mandalorian might be waiting for you in his usual spot and you hadn’t even realized your disappointment from earlier had immediately disappeared upon spotting the familiar glimmer of moonlight beaming down on a dark blue helmet.

You don’t even realize he has that effect on you.

He had been waiting for you and you wondered if there were nights where he arrived at the infirmary hours before the end of your shift and he simply doesn’t mind the long wait. 

Though he had been a little confused and surprised that you had gotten out of work earlier than usual, you think it must have put him in a better mood as well, noting that your smile actually met your eyes for once. After greeting you with a gentle headbutt of his Beskar-clad forehead against your bare one--something you assumed was a typical Mandalorian greeting they did with everyone--your companion had seemed content to guide you away from the village and far away from your broken home.

Noting that the night sky was incredibly clear and the full moon seemed brighter and larger than usual, he had chosen to take you to a region of the barren lands where flora grew and ponds had somehow naturally formed over time. It’s located in a rocky crater on a steep cliff side, but tame waterfalls of all shapes and sizes surround the two of you and you don’t think you’ve ever seen so much water in all of your years of living on the bleak planet. 

You wonder how the Mandalorian seems to know of all these beautiful spots on a planet like Nevarro, though you’re certain previous years experience of traveling so much and providing for his tribe would give him a pretty decent mental map of the area surrounding his home.

Instead of asking, you had simply resigned to letting the Mandalorian guide you to a cozy spot, gathering a decent-sized log that you two could sit up against and you had watched with curious eyes as he easily set a small fire within the span of a few seconds.

You’re utterly content to curl against his side and watch the stars and moon that make for a lovely setting, along with the sound of the Mandalorian’s sweet baritone that speaks of his time spent traveling through the cosmos and different planets he’s visited in the past. You stare up at him with awe shimmering fiercely in your eyes when he describes the white ball of ice that’s Hoth, or how unbearably hot and deadly the Tatooine deserts had taken a toll on even him.

Then he speaks of mountain-sized trees and flowers even more massive than him and...

Maker, you hang onto every single word he uses to describe the planet of Felucia and how even he had been surprised by how vibrant and flourishing every living organism had been.

"Saviin'ika."

You don’t know what the syrupy-sweet word means in his sacred language, but you know it’s some sort of nickname he’s deemed you worthy of and your cheeks feel unbearably flushed every single time he utters it. You sometimes find yourself repeating it quietly when you’re alone, thinking the foreign word sounds prettier rolling off the tip of his tongue and through his crackly modulator.

But tonight...

"Mesh'la... Mesh’la... Mesh’la"

He seems to only utter the pretty word during intimate moments when he's comforting you or when you reluctantly confess your fears and secrets to him, but tonight… well, he says the word four times within the span of an hour and it certainly has you feeling curious as to what he could possibly be calling you. He mostly breathes out the word in the form of a sigh when he chances a cursory glance down at your wide-eyed features as he describes different flowers and plants, as though he’s just as infatuated with you as you are by his whimsical stories.

“Maybe one day I will have the chance to take you there, mesh’la.”

The way he says it so naturally, as though he’s replacing your other nickname with a new one has you feeling achingly curious, like a moth to a flame, though you trust the Mandalorian not to burn you. You think your more affected by the way he breathes out the foreign word in such an adoring tone than the thought of seeing such a wondrous sight of flowers towering over the massive warrior.

Normally you don’t care much of what others think of you, but something about the fondness and devotion that he somehow manages to convey through a modulated voice and a two-syllable word has your mind racing at what he could possibly be implying.

A large fingertip suddenly grazes the purple and blue flowers you had strategically placed in the thick braid wrapped around your crown the previous morning and you find it hard to focus on the constellations that shimmer and flicker vividly in the night sky, your attention fixed solely on the Mandalorian that sits impossibly close at your side. You can smell his clean, spicy scent that subtly seeps through the cracks of his thick blue armor and you think that Mandalorians in general must have good hygiene, what with how much they must sweat underneath all of that armor. It’s an attractive trait that not many men seem to be capable of--or rather, are simply too lazy to take care of themselves--and you wonder if the comforting scent will linger on your own clothes after being wrapped up in his cape for so long.

“You’re quiet tonight,” He observes with a hum, still seeming entranced by your elegant braids that are a little frizzy from the short flight earlier, “Is something wrong, mesh’la?”

You hesitate a little, but you trust him enough to know he will not make fun of you, “I want to know more about Mandalorian culture, but I do not want to offend you or your people.”

He cocks his head as he continues to smooth unruly baby hairs from your forehead, “What is it you want to know? You already know about our helmets, so I’m certain nothing you ask could offend me.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and shiver when you feel the blunt tips of his nails lightly scratch around where your braid tugs at your scalp, "Is your language sacred? Are outsiders not allowed to learn it?"

His hand hesitates against your tender scalp and you wonder what’s running through his mind as you force yourself to avoid his intense gaze, though you find yourself drawn to it at the same time. You wonder if he’s regarding your beloved flowers with admiration or curiosity, though something tells you that it’s both as he idly plucks a pretty violet from its unlikely home in your thick braid. You find it impressive that such a fearless warrior can possess such tenderness towards something as delicate as a little flower and you suddenly wish it was your cheek or your neck he was caressing, rather than one of your beloved violets.

"Others are allowed to learn it," He finally answers as he observes the vibrant flower closely, "There are even books written in the language. Why do you ask?"

You let out a little huff as he gently twirls the stem of the flower between the rough pads of his thumb and index finger; you can tell he’s purposely ignoring your pointed gaze, "You call me all these names in your language, but I have no idea what they mean. You are not insulting me, are you, Mandalorian?"

"I would never dream of insulting you, little nurse," He grunts, sounding a little bashful as he most likely tries to think of all the ways he can dance around this topic, "Saviin'ika means violet. I only call you that because of the flowers you always put in your hair."

Something about the terseness of his voice makes you think there's more to it, but you shyly drop your tone and your head when you speak up again, barely peering up at him through your lashes, "And mesh'la? You’ve been calling me that since the night you first brought me to the cave."

He freezes, still staring down at the flower he stole from your braid and you can't stop yourself from grinning like a sly loth cat when you realize you've caught the Mandalorian red-handed. When he stubbornly refuses to give you an answer, you decide to take matters into your own hands and force yourself to stop smiling at this new discovery, not wanting him to feel embarrassed over something you think to be sweet.

"Please, look at me," You murmur and he is quick to obey, his visor landing either on your flushed face or the slight shift in your throat as you swallow thickly, "I-Is it a compliment?"

"It…" He clears his throat a little and you remain impossibly patient as the Mandalorian collects his thoughts, "It is what I think of when I see you, or what you must think when you look up at the stars."

You think of all the words you would typically use to describe the sky on a clear night like this one and can't possibly fathom someone seeing you the same way. You can’t imagine him looking at you and seeing supernovas and the vibrant swirls of galaxies in your own eyes; you find it hard to believe that anyone could perceive you as ethereal or fascinating. The Mandalorian must be jesting with you, trying to make you feel better about how hard you are on yourself, though you’ve never known him to be a liar.

Could someone truly believe you to be celestial like the stars that beckon you and cause an achy, longing feeling in your chest at night?

You shake your head a little, "Please do not make fun of me, Mandalorian. I could take it from anyone else, but not from you."

"I would never," He repeats, his voice dropping lower and more gruff, though you hear something more desperate in his tone, "I would never lie when I tell you how pretty I think you are and I would break the bones of anyone who would think it funny to insult you."

“You cannot solve everything with violence, silly man.”

He scoffs, forgetting entirely about the flower he’d robbed you of, “For you? sure I can.”

You move your hand to tuck a stray curl behind the curve of your ear, cheeks burning something fierce as he dutifully envelopes your hand in his much larger one, using the other to assume the task of taming your long hair and finishing it off by placing the flower he’d borrowed behind your ear. A soft exhale deflates your chest when you feel the rough pad of his index finger grazing the shell of your cartilage and you find yourself focusing on the geometric shape in the center of his cuirass instead. Your hand falls out of his and you tuck it next to your other between your thighs in a feeble attempt to keep the warm and from wringing together in a nervous fashion.

"You said that word means what I think when I look up at the stars, but what if I find the stars or these waterfalls to be more than pretty or beautiful? What if I could not think of a word to properly describe what I feel when I see the sky on a night like this one? Or how the moonlight looks when it reflects off your visor and armor?"

His fingers swiftly move to the bottom of your earlobe and you think he must be amused by how hot the flesh is there, no doubt burning his own rough skin. You may have caused him to grow slightly flustered, but he certainly has you beat in this lovely competition where you think there would not be any losers, only two blushing souls that don’t know how to properly display their feelings. If your last comment about the moonlight affected him at all, he certainly doesn’t let it show in his strong, steady hands or his deep baritone.

“Then I guess Mandalorians need a better word to describe someone or something that is more than beautiful--for what you see when you look at the stars and when I look at you. Perhaps someone should make revisions to the language and use you as inspiration to come up with something more fitting, mesh’la.”

You’re not sure why the emotionless gaze of his shiny visor makes you feel intoxicated and lightheaded, but you find yourself growing flushed whenever the Mandalorian lowers his helmet and cocks it to the side to get a better look at your face. He huffs out a small chuckle when you press your palms to your burning cheeks and you’re sure that your heart is about to leap right out of your chest and straight into your Mandalorian’s warm palm. You’re certain you would trust him not to crush it in a tight fist, especially after witnessing the utter caution he had displayed to not accidentally rip the petals or bruise the stem of something that he was well aware of that was so precious to you.

You think that perhaps the Mandalorian already holds your heart in his hand and while the startling thought should absolutely terrify you, it fills you with a tender warmth.

As if it’s not enough that you feel like you’re about to combust, the Mandalorian seals the deal as he gently pries your hands from your cheeks and replaces them with his own; the stark contrast in size and warmth makes you feel as though you’ve stolen his jetpack and are floating high in the night sky. He urges you to tilt your head to the side and upwards to peer up at his emotionless visor and you shiver when one of his hands slowly slides down the side of your exposed neck. Something about the way the moonlight and glittering stars that hang high above you and how it emphasizes the dull color of his blue-gray armor has you squirming around a little bit.

"Is your skin always this warm, or is it because of what I said?"

If you weren't so flustered, you would have laughed at the question; you are certain he is being sly and cocky with you and you pray that you won’t spontaneously combust into flames, "Don't tease me, Mandalorian, you know what you're doing to me. I think you’ve known since that night you carried me home and played with my hair."

You hate that your voice comes out as a shaky sigh--a dreamy little noise that has the blue warrior grunting and bringing your face closer to him. It seems to be something he absolutely adores, having you this close to him and you think it must be something he takes advantage of because he hasn’t experienced it before. You wonder how often he has the chance to take off his thick leather gloves to feel the warmth of another and selfishly, you hope that you are the only one he’s touched like this in a while.

"Do I? I don't think I know what I do to you, would you care to explain, mesh'la?" Judging by his light tone, you think he must be grinning underneath that blue bucket and when you anxiously bring your lower lip between your teeth, he’s swift to untuck it with the rough pad of his thumb, "Or should I keep teasing you? I can play with your hair again, if that’s what you really want?”

Your cheeks puff out against his palms and you squirm a little, though he keeps you firmly in place, still stroking the valley just underneath your lip, "You can do whatever you wish, Mandalorian, I would prefer to not see the weight of your ego crush you though."

A loud laugh drifts past his crackly modulator and you think the sound is lovelier than the loud waterfalls that surround the two of you, "I am pretty strong, I think I could handle the weight."

You shake your head at the confidence he exudes, though your cheeks still burn as you banter playfully with him and let him continue to tenderly hold you head however he pleases, “Men like you are all bark and no bite.”

“I can assure you that my bite is just as strong as my bark, mesh’la--or would you prefer to feel it firsthand?”

“Kriff,” You roll your eyes at him and though you try your hardest to appear exasperated with him, you can’t stop the smile that stretches your lips, “You’re insufferable when you get this cocky.”

“Something makes me think you like it,” His voice drops into a cool, deep rasp and you’re extremely aware of the way his thumb dips to the hollow of your throat before skimming along your collarbone, lightly pushing his cape out of the way, “You would tell me to stop if you were ever uncomfortable, wouldn’t you?”

You quickly steel your nerves as he continues to explore your shoulders the skin exposed just above the collar of your dress, “I mean, I haven’t stabbed you yet with the vibroblade you gave me, so I would say you’re good so far, Mandalorian.”

Risking a curious glance up at your aloof companion, your cheeks and earlobes instantly feel like burning coals when you realize his visor is pointed directly at your face and though you would never wish to intentionally disrespect his creed, you yearn to know how his eyes look whenever he decides to gaze upon you. Are his eyes just as expressive as he insists yours are? Do the corners crinkle whenever he laughs or smiles at your silly antics or when you sass him? Do they shimmer with sadness or shame whenever he discovers a new bruise, cut, or scar on your abused skin?

You think of dark eyes, glimmering ferociously with wrath and pain, rather than pity, because you refuse to believe the Mandalorian pities you.

You ponder all these questions deeply as you stare into the abyss of his visor, though you think the way the moonlight reflects off of it is just as lovely of a sight that you’re certain his eyes are. Though you long to see him all hours of the day, you think that the subtle glow of the moonlight bathing his dull blue armor in a soft, pearlescent shimmer makes for a better, more comfortable setting, rather than bleak gray skies that make the world around you so dreary. 

A soft sigh leaves you and your chest deflates when his thumb grazes your brow; he almost seems fixated on a certain spot as he continues to stroke the soft little hairs at the end of the tail.

"You have a little scar here,” He observes with a small hum and he sounds thoughtful as his thumb ventures downwards to your cheekbone; you’re afraid that if you move in the slightest, he’ll pull his hand away, so you stay perfectly still as he traces the map of your face like he’s the best explorer in the galaxy.

“I got it as a child,” You inform him, lips twitching into a tiny smile when his thumb skims past the bridge of your nose, tickling the tip a little, “We used to have a tree in our backyard that I would always climb even though my mother told me not to. She was always so worried about me getting hurt, but you know how children are--they never listen and always go against their parents’ wishes. I loved climbing that tree though. It always made me feel like I was on top of the world and could do anything.”

You must have a fond or wistful expression etched on your face, because the Mandalorian breathes out a funny noise when you continue with your story, “I don’t remember how old I was, maybe seven or eight? But I had climbed as high as I could in that tree--higher than ever before--and I was so proud of myself. I remember how pretty the sunset looked from that high up and how the stars seemed a little closer, just like right now on top of this cliff. It was so peaceful and then--” Your cheeks nearly hurt from how much you’re smiling, because even though you had gotten hurt at the time, looking back on it now, it’s more amusing than anything, “A bird landed right next to me and scared me half to death.”

You’re not sure how it’s possible to feel judgment from an emotionless mask, but the Mandalorian manages to exude such energy as he shakes his helmet a little, “You… You fell out of a tree?”

“Yup,” You giggle a little when he continues to shake his head, “Face first into a rock. My parents were so upset with me and I remember forcing myself not to cry when my mother stitched up the wound because I didn’t want her to point out that I had been hurt because I disobeyed them.”

“Did you climb the tree after that?”

The nostalgia suddenly leaves you feeling a little melancholic and you shift your attention down to your hands that are tucked politely between your thighs. You hope he doesn’t sense your sadness, though you think he must, what with the way the pressure against your jaw line lightens and how he tenderly grazes a thumb to the corner of your lips.

“My father cut it down the next day.”

His fingers twitch against your flushed skin and though you know it upsets him whenever you mention anything having to do with your father and how you are nothing more than a prisoner in a world so bleak and unforgiving, you find solace and comfort in confessing your fears and sad thoughts to the Mandalorian. You’ve never owned the luxury of being able to openly display your vulnerability in front of another, but with him, you feel as though you can bare your soul and perhaps one day, the rest of your scars etched in your skin and your heart.

“Then maybe one day, I will cut him down as well.”

His terse words sound like a promise and you feel a little sick at how the thought of your father’s demise fills you with hope.

“He is my father,” You remind both the Mandalorian and yourself, still refusing to meet his Beskar gaze, “He is family.”

“No, mesh’la,” He drops his helmet and you shiver from the cold press of metal against your forehead; his hand drops to your waist and lightly squeezes it, “He is a monster that deserves to feel shame for what he’s done to his own blood. I would make him suffer, just as you have your entire life because of him. I would make him feel your pain.”

You close your eyes as the metal warms underneath your skin and you hesitantly bring a hand up to touch his blue cheek, “I would not ask you of that, Mandalorian--to do such a thing.”

He grunts and pulls you in a little closer, “Why’s that?”

“Because I do not want to believe you are capable of doing what he has done to me.”

His hand instantly freezes on your cheek upon hearing your quiet sentiment and you fear that you've said something bad or offensive, though you think it's not that. Perhaps having such a notorious reputation of his people being brutes or savages has him believing it to be true, though you don't think being ruthless or fearless should automatically equate to being recognized as a cruel human being.

You’ve seen his kindness firsthand and you’re certain that his anger and need for vengeance comes from a good place in his soft heart.

With a sad smile, you carefully sling your legs over one of his padded thighs and fold yourself closer against his side, shivering a little when a cold breeze wafts past the two of you; he’s dutiful to tug his cape tighter around you and you think you could stay like that for however long the Maker will let you live. 

His fingers are splayed wide against your side, his thumb rubbing haphazard shapes against your bruised ribs, though the pressure is deliberately light and more of a tickle than anything else. You turn your head until it's situated comfortably between the inside of his bicep and his cuirass, just above where you hope his heart is beating just as frantically as yours.

"I would feel ashamed for you to see me that way," You swear you hear his natural voice underneath the lip of his helmet and you shudder when his hand lazily slides to the base of your spine, "But if I ever saw him and he… if he ever hurt you to the point where you could not be healed, I would not hesitate to act so cruelly and I would not let anyone stop me," Goosebumps rise on your covered arms and you're not sure if it's from his promise or the way his fingers drag tortuously slow up your back, "I understand you do not wish for more violence and I respect that, but I do not know how much longer I could let this go on."

You let out a deep exhale when his hand promptly lands on your hip and gives it a firm squeeze, "You worry far too much for me, Mandalorian."

"I do not worry nearly enough for you, saviin'ika," He sighs when you move your head to peer up at him through the thick abundance of your lashes, "If I did, he would have been a dead man that day you stitched me up and he talked to you that way. I would burn that whole fucking village to the ground if… if you were taken away from me. I would do anything for you.”

“I--” You feel speechless at how raw he’s being with you, confessing what you think is a fear that he’s veiled with a threatening promise, “You haven’t known me that long and you…?”

His free hand moves to the hollow at the base of your throat and your breath hitches when he feels your erratic pulse thrumming underneath his rough fingertips, “I know your heart, mesh’la--I knew what kind of person you were from the moment you offered me that salve and didn’t expect anything in return. I know that…” He makes a funny noise upon noticing the way you shiver when he slowly drags his hand up the column of your neck, “I know that I think about you more than I think about anyone else and that every time I try to sleep, all I can think of is your smile and those flowers you always put in your braids. Sometimes I swear I can smell them in your hair, but I must be imagining it for my own selfish purposes--it’s too sweet of a scent.”

When you speak, it’s a breathy whisper that barely reaches the bottom of his shiny visor, fogging it up a little, “Mandalorian…”

“You were scared of me that night--after you stitched me up and I followed you out of the infirmary,” He remembers and even though it was only over a month ago, you feel as though you’ve know him for far longer; that night feels like it took place lifetimes ago, “Before I told you that I wanted to walk you home, you thought I was going to hurt you and I never cared about scaring others before, but you--”

You struggle to blink away the tears in your eyes as he spills his heart out to you, something that you’re certain can’t be an easy feat when he’s spent so much of his life covered in metal that disguises what he’s truly feeling, but you remain silent as he continues.

“I made you cry and I didn’t like it, that I made you feel that way when I could tell it was something you were used to feeling so much--that kind of fear and dread,” He sighs, a grave sounding noise, and shakes his helmet at the memory, as if it’s something that constantly haunts him, “I don’t want you to feel sad when you’re with me; I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I want you to feel safe and... and cared for.”

“The only reason I feared you at first is because I was a naive fool that chose to listen to the rumors about your people,” You remind him, not happy with how distraught he sounds as he recalls your unfortunate first meeting and how badly you he had caused you such fear with his mere presence, “I knew what kind of man you were the moment you gave me your vibroblade to protect myself with.”

He steadily holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head backwards so you’re forced to look directly into his visor where you think his eyes fondly peer down at you, “And what kind of man is that, little nurse?”

You are very much aware of the close proximity between you two, your legs still draped over his thigh and his heavy arm wrapped firmly around your waist to prevent you from escaping, though you think you would never attempt such a feat.

Not when he’s warming you from the inside out.

“An honorable man who’s deathly loyal to the ones he cares for and deems worthy of his affections.”

He thoughtfully gazes at you for a few moments, thumb steadily swiping and exploring the soft angles and valleys of your jaw line, “Do you think I deem you worthy of my affections?”

“I am not sure if I would deserve something so precious,” You admit in a breathy whisper, “But maybe someday I will allow myself to believe myself worthy of such a thing.”

He grunts and shakes his helm, “You are worth so much more, mesh’la, so much more.”

He sounds like he’s being genuine and utterly serious, so you give him a shy smile and nod a little, not trusting your voice at the moment.

You think he must not experience skin contact often, what with the way his rough fingers always trace your cheeks or jaw line when you two are alone, but you find that you don't mind his curious hands one bit and you think him to be endearing. Any time his bare fingers graze your skin, you think it to be similar to a child’s curiosity, as though he’s experiencing something astounding for the first time ever and you pray that he never tires of the sensation, especially when you crave it so badly.

Maker, do you crave the rough warmth of his fingers against any part of you.

“For a big grouchy Mandalorian, you’re not too terrible with words.”

You're sitting so close to him that you hear an amused snort from underneath his helmet and your smirk instantly turns into a grin when he retorts with a tug of your earlobe, though it's not enough to cause any discomfort. After getting to know him a little better in the last week, you find it endearing that the Mandalorian seems more confident when it comes to touching you, no longer treating you like some sort of fragile ornament. When he occasionally touches your neck, his fingers are no longer a ghost of a touch, and as though it’s instinct to constantly comfort you, he uses a firmer pressure to melt the knots and aches away, rather than hesitant, light touches he had been giving you during your first few initial meetings.

Now, he seems to constantly seek close contact, whether he’s wearing gloves or not, and you certainly won’t deny him such a small request.

It’s not like you absolutely crave it--a comforting squeeze of your nape or the way he holds you close when he's using his jetpack and carrying you to the cave. You think of the way he barely nudges you with his shoulder or when he playfully tugs your earlobe whenever you jest around with him, or how determined his hands are when they map out the slopes and valleys of your face and neck. 

Then there's the way he always touches your hair so fondly--always with a bare hand and you think that perhaps he's afraid that his gloves are too dirty and he's afraid of somehow soiling your usually unruly mane. Perhaps he just prefers to feel the soft locks against his skin and it's because of that presumption alone that you find yourself carefully combing out the knots in your hair more often, though you think it wouldn't matter to the warrior if your hair was a tangled mess all the time.

It's definitely not something you constantly daydream about when you find yourself miserable at work, or when you're unable to give into exhaustion at the end of the day. At first, you attempt to not think about the heavy-infantry warrior and the effect his mere presence has on you, but at some point about halfway through the week, you decided to simply give up and allow yourself a small semblance of hope and warmth.

"You have to be at the infirmary soon," He eventually sighs when the sun begins to barely rise over the horizon and you swear you hear guilt laced within his deep baritone; you hadn’t even realized how much time had passed, "I didn't mean to keep you up all night, saviin’ika. You could have been sleeping instead."

You smile fondly at the Mandalorian and tightly squeeze his hand, "I haven't been sleeping all that well lately, so I would much prefer to spend my time with you, rather than tossing and turning in my bed all night. Besides, it's been a while since I've seen the sunrise."

“Nevarro’s sunrises and sunsets aren’t that exciting or something to look forward to.”

You huff, "All sunrises are exciting, Mandalorian."

He hums and pulls you closer into an affectionate embrace; you think that without all the armor, it would be far easier to melt against him and stay trapped within the safety of his arms forever. You find that the times he chooses to hold you close is the only time you forget about your broken home and the two souls that haunt it--one full of despair and longing and the other filled with violence and rage. 

You think of the Mandalorian, someone who comes from a tribe of fearless warriors that are astonishingly loyal to one another, and you understand why the nature of your situation upsets him so much. The little ones, foundling or blood, are the key to the Mandalorian existence and are all cherished and respected amongst all the adults, so of course any of his people would be horrified at the thought of intentionally hurting a child.

It’s for that reason that you constantly remind your Mandalorian that you are not a child, but an adult that has no control over their situation.

That being said, you selfishly allow yourself to think of a better life whenever he holds you or caresses your cheeks and hair--a life where you are far away from Nevarro and all of the cruel people that cause it to fester so terribly. You greedily think of a life with your blue Mandalorian on one of the many beautiful planets that he had previously described to you in great detail and it nearly forces tears into your eyes.

Only when your chest aches is when you remind yourself that it’s a foolish dream--a childish one that most likely won’t ever come to fruition.

You’re not sure how long the Mandalorian will choose to brighten up your bleak days, though having him here with you in this moment is enough to give you hope. He's already shown you that not everything on this planet is terrible and perhaps your future isn't as set in stone as you initially thought.

"I should take you back," He sounds disgruntled as the sun starts to turn the dark blue sky into shades of dull pinks and oranges, though there's a thin layer of fog that distorts what would have been a lovely view, "That way you can at least get a little sleep before work."

"You're one to talk," You petulantly argue, though he seems to know you well enough to understand you're being lighthearted with him, "I'm starting to think you don't ever sleep."

He scoffs a little and playfully squeezes your hip, "I nap sometimes.”

You frown as you reluctantly pull yourself away from the warmth of his embrace, already feeling colder as you slowly stand and try to shake the pins and needles from your feet. Holding out a hand for the Mandalorian to take, you grunt a little as you struggle to help him up, though he ends up doing most of the work, no doubt amused by your dramatic noises. You think the armor must add at least over twenty pounds and that’s not even including his heavy weapons and equipment, which must weigh twice as much.

You take one last look at the sunrise and the beautiful waterfalls as the Mandalorian straps his jetpack to his back; even though the waterfalls aren't nearly as massive about the ones you've read about in books, you think them to be no less breathtaking. 

It's far more beautiful than anything your own mind could hope to conjure and as you observe the way the lengthy streams of water that cascades wildly off the edge of the slightly larger cliff twenty or so feet behind you and your companion, you wish you could burn the image into your mind for the rest of your days.

"Mesh'la," The Mandalorian's soft baritone pulls you from your wistful thoughts and you turn to him with a small smile, tucking his cape around your head in a protective manner so your flowers won’t get lost mid-flight, "You ready?"

"Yes, thank you for taking me here," Your smile grows when he offers you a hand that is now unfortunately clad in leather once again, his weapons and equipment all in place as well, “Perhaps we can come back someday.”

He easily tugs you into an embrace that is only slightly awkward because of the Beskar shell that protects him from a world that seems to despise his kind. Without the armor, you think that he’d give the most comforting hugs, what with his massive stature and big arms, though you’re willing to take what you can get from him.

“I would bring you back here or to the cave any night you wish.”

You huff and firmly wrap your arms around his neck as he takes off without giving you any warning, a small squeak leaving you and you’re certain he’s amused by the way his shoulders shake a little. His other hand comes up to the back of your head to keep his cape in place and you think he must be as protective of your flowers--if not more--than you are.

“Any night? Those are dangerous words, Mandalorian.”

He chuckles a little and rolls his helmet to the side when your fingers unconsciously dig into his nape, just underneath the lip of his helmet where fabric is bunched up, “You could ask me to take you to the cave every single night and I would happily do it if it meant I got to hold you like this all the time.”

You’re grateful that you can hide your flushed face against the crook of his neck, though you decide to muster up enough courage in an attempt to cause a reaction from him, “You don’t need the jetpack in order to hold me like this.”

His metal cheek bumps a little against your bare one as he struggles to get a good look at the bashful expression etched on your face and you shyly shift in his arms so you can lift your head and peer at him. You imagine a man flustered underneath all that armor, smiling so large that his cheeks hurt or perhaps his skin burning just as hotly as yours had earlier when he had been hellbent on making you accept your beauty and worth. 

You wonder if the Mandalorian would be as open and flirty with you if his heart was buried so deep underneath layers or padding and Beskar, where he was easily able to conceal his fears or insecurities and you think it must be easy for him.

“Yeah?” The Mandalorian interrupts your thoughts when he lightly nudges the hollow of his blue cheek against yours again, though it somehow seems much more tender this time, as if he’s calmed himself, “And what if I want more? I can be a selfish man sometimes, saviin’ika.”

You conceal your smile against the lighter blue patch in the hollowed metal, trying your hardest not to giggle like a child with a crush on someone that you know you can’t have. The gritty nature of his low baritone makes something warm expand in the pit of your stomach and you know it’s no longer because of the weightless feeling of flying high in the sky with your Mandalorian, but rather the promise of his words.

You think he sounds just as longing as you feel for something you convinced yourself long ago that you were undeserving of and you wonder if he’s dreamed about this as long as you have.

“Then perhaps that makes two of us,” You whisper, continuing when you hear him grunt a little, “I know you think me to selfless and pure, but I have wants and dreams as well, Mandalorian.”

He doesn’t say anything at the small drop in your tone, but the way he squeezes your hip tells you everything you need to know as he expertly makes his way back to the village that is barely starting to come alive in the early hours. He lands on the outskirts of the village, taking great care to make sure you don’t collapse, as your legs always feel so numb and wobbly after he carries you, and dread courses through your veins when you eventually see the infirmary in the distance.

“Saviin’ika,” The blue warrior gently grabs your wrists, keeping you from taking another step forward, though his grip is light and tender, leather thumbs grazing the insides of your wrists, “I cannot go any further, but I had a really nice night. I... I want to keep seeing you.”

You cock your head at how he suddenly sounds a little tense and shy, but you give him a small smile and nod a little; the moment feels a tiny bit awkward, like two souls that don’t know how to properly say goodbye after such a lovely date, “I had a nice night as well. I expect you to keep that promise of taking me to the cave or the waterfalls whenever I wish, Mandalorian.”

He chuckles at your playful, yet demanding tone, reluctantly accepting the cape that you briefly thought about stealing from him just so you wouldn’t forget his scent, “Of course, mesh’la. I would not be able to deny you anything at this point, I think, nor would I want to.”

“You spoil me,” You blush, sheepishly turning your gaze away from him, “Yet I do nothing for you.”

He scoffs, shaking his helm at you and he sounds exasperated when he speaks, “You give me far more than you know. I... I’ll see you later?”

The cockiness in his deep baritone is gone and suddenly replaced with something more bashful and endearing, almost as though he’s intimidated by you.

“I’ll be here, as usual.”

“Is that a promise?”

“I would never lie to you,” You answer with a fond grin, watching as the warrior turns to take his leave; in your usual fashion, you’re quick to stop him, a playful expression etched along your features, “Mandalorian, wait!”

He faces you once more and his body seems to straighten up a little when he sees you plucking sapphire and violet wildflowers from your braids with the same grace he’d display upon fighting an enemy. 

The blue Mandalorian cocks his head to the side, no doubt confused as you bundle the pretty flowers together before making your way over to him with a nervous energy surrounding you. You pray to the Maker that he doesn’t perceive you as ridiculous or childish as you grab his hand and pull it towards you with purpose and excitement. He gives absolutely no struggle when you flip the appendage over and unfurl his fingers from the loose fist he seems to constantly have them hooked into when he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

“What are you--?”

His voice almost sounds panicked as you place the tiny bouquet in his palm and push it back towards him with a huge grin stretched across your lips, cheeks burning as he shifts his attention multiple times from the flowers to you. It’s such a simple gesture, but you can tell it’s thrown the normally unbothered Mandalorian completely off his axis and you find him utterly endearing as he shakes his head and attempts to give them back to you.

“These are your flowers, saviin’ika. I would not take something so precious from you.”

“I have so many in my office and at home, Mandalorian,” You gently push his hand away once more and step a little closer to him, never removing your hand from his, “Besides, it is the least I can do for all you have done for me--always taking me away from the village and being so kind to me. The blue flowers are Lobelias and they have healing properties for respiratory ailments, should anything happen to anyone in your tribe and you are not able to bring them to me. The violets are good for soothing salves and are very anti-inflammatory; I’m sure they would be helpful for bruising or swelling. 

He stares intensely at you and shakes his helmet a little, “You don’t have to... are you sure?”

“I know you said it is your duty to provide for your tribe and it seems as though you are lacking nurses and medical supplies; it would be an honor if you accepted my flowers, though I fear it is not as effective as bacta,” You grow a little shy when he remains deathly silent and you fear that you’ve offended him somehow, “Besides, you said earlier that sometimes you think you can sometimes smell them from under your helmet, so now you can find out for yourself when you are alone and able to take your helmet off.”

His tone is one you’ve never heard and it has you reaching up to touch his blue cheek as he speaks in a strained tone, foregoing all nicknames he’s bestowed upon you to utter your real name, though you think you much prefer how fond he sounds when he calls you ‘saviin’ika’.

“I think I would much prefer to smell them while they’re still in your hair.”

You think he’s just trying to cover up the shift in his attitude with a flirty comment and his personality must be rubbing off on you, because you are quick and coy to reply.

“Then perhaps one day you will.”

“Th-Thank you,” His baritone is a coarse rasp and you beam at him a little brighter because you don’t think you’ve ever seen someone so grateful for something so simple; he lowers his helm and firmly presses his forehead to yours, though he keeps it there for several longing moments, a leather palm cupping your nape to keep you in place, “I will tell the others what you did--that you wished to help us. I think they would appreciate knowing that there are others that care.”

“I am glad. I cannot imagine being hated just for the armor you wear or your reputation,” You murmur, dropping your hand and watching as he gingerly tucks the bundle of flowers into the large pouch attached to his hip, taking great caution so he doesn’t crush the petals; your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as he pulls out tiny daggers and other belongings from the pouch so they won’t bring any harm to his newest, most fragile possessions, “The nodes are attached to flowers as well, so if you wish to plant them, they will be easy to re-grow.”

He huffs out a small chuckle, “Our kind are forced to live in sewers. We don’t get any sunlight underground, little nurse. Besides, I am not nearly as talented of a gardener as you.”

“They would grow just as well with artificial light, Mandalorian, and they are extremely easy to take care of,” You say, matter-of-factly, with a sly smile and quirked brows as he cocks his helmet to closely regard you, “Though I would not mind giving you more, regardless of what you do with the ones I have given you.”

“That would… it would be nice,” He admits quietly and you grin at your companion, earning you an exasperated shake of the helmet from him, “You are far too kind."

“After everything you have done for me--the hope and happiness you have filled me with--it is the least I can do. I would give you every flower I’ve ever grown if you asked.”

He hesitates as he reaches back into the pouch to retrieve one of your many beloved violets, stepping closer to tuck it securely behind the cartilage of your ear with great care, “It would be unfair and cruel to leave you with not a single flower in your hair, mesh’la. I would not allow anyone to rob you of your only possessions, especially not myself.”

You’re beaming up at him like a love-struck fool and he must be distracted as much as you are, because neither one of you sense the furious gaze that’s fixated on the two of you from down the street.

He leaves you with his usual parting words, “Take care of yourself, little nurse.”

“You as well, Mandalorian.”

Despite your promise, the Mandalorian does not see you later that night.

Saviin’ika= Little violet

Mesh’la= Beautiful

Taglist: @parabatai-winchester @auty-ren @theocatkov @oloreaa @talesfromtheguild  @blindedbyyourgrace17 @datmando @dartheldur @miscellaneous-mando @karpasia @ben-is-a-hoe @the-feckless-wonder @whatababeleia @maybege @aeryntheofficial @corrupt-fvcker @lackofhonor @phoenixhalliwell @crazy-kat-in-the-hat @roxypeanut @mandolovian @honestlystop @teaofpeach​ @macabrefaerie​ @acynicalcat​

For the love of God, if I missed anyone, please send me an angry message and I will quickly add you :( I have a notebook where I keep track of everything, but I’m still terrified I’m going to forget someone and I absolutely do not want that bc I love you all so much <3

Anyways, I know this chapter was literally 99% fluff/hurt/comfort with a freaking cliffhanger (I am so sorry) But I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! The support and love you all have given me so far has been so encouraging and I’ve been having so much fun writing this soft ass story!!

[fabricated-misslieness]

Peter Parker x gender neutral reader with powers

Y’know I asked for a part 2 because some parts of the moodboard weren’t utilized but I actually don’t have a plan for this… just like most fics I write.

Part 2 of Stunned

Requested: Yes, by several peeps

Word Count: 2525

Warnings: swearing (probably), Ted Bundy is mentioned (just the name, not what he does, though it is sugested)

Ever since you’d met Spider-Man, showed him your identity and all, Peter has been a little more awkward than he already was around you.

Though, of course, you didn’t know how those two things corresponded with each other.

It was still a bit suspicious though. Analyzing the situation you could come up with at least 5 reasons.

That last pick up line was bad.

That last pick up line was too explicit.

You’d rubbed off on him as a little too harsh or bold for his comfort.

Something happened to him that was entirely unrelated to you.

He’d caught on with your little crush.

The last two were the most probable ones. 

That was what you told yourself, but sometimes your friends told you that the pick up lines were bad. Most of the time, you just brushed it off because a. Your friends liked to pick on you, and b. You don’t utilize overused internet lines.

Either way, the pick up line from before this whole awkward dilemma had still gotten him to blush red. He hadn’t grimaced or giggled. Then again, this was Peter Parker, the smart and somewhat shy boy that you’d managed to fluster nearly every day since the start of the year.

You decided to confront him, get to the root of the problem. Speculating was useless in this situation.

“Hey, Peter.” You tap him on the shoulder.

It surprises him, as it’s lunch time and you’d usually sit with the popular kids. 

“H-Hey.” He stutters back. Out of your peripheral view, you could see his friend scooting away from you two ‘discreetly’.

“Can we talk? Alone?” You rub the back of your neck, which makes him slightly curious. You looked nervous, which you usually wouldn’t be. At least your constant smile was still there.

As you walked out the cafeteria, Peter thought about what you’d want to talk about.

Were you finally going to ask him out? It’d already been quite the year of pick up lines and he felt anticipation build up whenever you’d approach him. It’d do both of you good, though he assumed you liked him. He wasn’t so sure about it, even if all signs pointed to yes.

Thought right now you seemed a little too nervous to be asking him out. You were always so bold, a harsh contrast from him, so he assumed when the time came, you’d be just as confident as always. Then again, he couldn’t really judge.

You could also be telling him something else. What it was, Peter didn’t know, which is why his brain was exploding with possibilities.

When you were outside the cafeteria, you made sure the halls were clear. It confused him further. What were you going to tell him that required no witnesses?

Oh god, you weren’t going to Ted Bundy him, were you?

“Peter.” You start slowly, which makes him want to bite his nails in anticipation. “Why,” You take a deep breath. “Why have you been awkward around me lately?”

Peter can feel the blood heat up his cheeks as he scrambles for an answer. “I-I uh.. I always have?”

You laugh, and god does it make him feel like he’s exploding. “Well, you’ve been more awkward than usual.”

Peter tilts his head, feigning confusion, you can’t help but think it’s adorable. He knows the answer to that question, but you don’t know it correlates to him being Spider-Man. “I have?”

You nod your head, looking off in embarrassment. It seems you’d seen things wrong. “Right, right.” You laugh at yourself. “Sorry, I’m overreacting.”

“Yeah.” Damn it Peter, that’s no way to ease your crush. “I mean, no, no, no! It’s- It’s fine!” He waves his hands around in a panic.

You laugh at his embarrassment this time. “If you say so, darling. By the way, I haven’t complimented you today have I?”

Peter shakes his head timidly.

“Oh, really? Well then, you’re really cute with a blush. I’ll see you around, Pete.”

When you leave, Peter nearly melts to a puddle just from how flustered he is. Another big factor to that nearly happening is the fact that he had to hide his secret from you.

Of course, hiding it was a given, but hiding it from somebody you have a crush on is way different than hiding it from the general public.

Before he could let himself zone out in the hall, he walked into the cafeteria, mostly to tell Ned.

You’d always thought Spider-Man was uptight. So that day with him, where you let him stay with you to rest, had changed your mind.

Maybe he was still uptight when choosing which crimes he should stop, graffiti obviously being one of the ones you think he shouldn’t prevent, but you thought his personality was uptight. You could work on it though.

“Spider-Man’s here!”

You glanced over to see all your graffiti friends, most of them being stoners as well, bolt in the direction of the exit.

You didn’t know how he got there, seeing as you had to cross some train tracks, go down an ominous hallway, then jump a fence, though he didn’t need to jump the fence.

He’d probably followed you there, but for some reason decided to stick around, pun unintended, for half an hour before revealing himself.

Before he could catch any of them, you use your powers to dash over and hold him in place.

“Thanks (y/n)!” They shout at you as they run.

“Hey, no problem dude. See you later!” The nerve of you to reply like that with Spider-Man in your hold.

Speaking of which, the spider groans as he watches them leave. Even with his enhanced strength, he couldn’t get out of your grip. Maybe that was another part of your powers.

You only let go of him when they were all out of sight.

Spider-Man figured he could catch up to them, but it was useless. You were there to catch him, and you could even knock him out like last time. Although, last time was an accident, as you’d assured, he couldn’t trust you.

He groans and faces you, not expecting to be faced with your smirk.

“Come back for another kiss, Spidey?” You tease, leaning against the graffitied walls of the restricted area.

“Okay, this time, you broke an entry!”

You laugh at how pissed off he seemed. “I thought it was breaking and entering.” You joke.

He seems taken aback. “I--” He huffs out in frustration. “Alright, so what? You broke the law, you pay the price.”

“Spider-Man.” You tilt your head and give him an all-knowing look. “You’re a superhero. Don’t you got any other crimes to bust? Besides,” You shake your spray paint can. “What’s stopping me from running?”

Spider-Man groans with his head in his hands. You were really getting on his nerves.

He thinks of a plan for a few minutes. He could web onto you when you ran, but even if you didn’t break the webbing, it would turn into a wild goose chase.

“Your powers are overpowered.” He groans.

“It’s much worse than you think.” You mutter, thankfully he doesn’t catch it. “But imagine somebody with an insignificant power, something like tasting certain—“

He tunes the rest of your rambling out as he thinks about you, but that doesn’t mean he’s not looking at you either.

He thinks about how much he wanted that conversation today to be a confession from you. He didn’t dwell on it at the moment, but he certainly thought about it afterwards.

He was fantasizing about having a relationship with you. Hanging out on rooftops, art dates, not giving a care in the world about where you kissed... He’d done this so many times before it’s as if he was looking back on a memory.

“Earth to Spider-Man?” You snap him out of his thoughts.

He jumps back against the wall, startled. You snicker a bit, “Didn’t mean to scare you. I was going to ask, do you wanna hang out?”

Peter furrows his eyebrows, why would you suddenly ask this? “Uh..” He tries to think of an excuse. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” You retort.

“I guess.” Peter shrugged. “But I could be one of your teachers.”

You make your way to the exit, forcing him to follow you. “Hmm, don’t think so.” You take a glance at him as if to get a look at his face and then remember he wears a mask. “You sound like a teen.”

He should really have a voice changer in his suit.

“Ey,” Spider-Man calls with a finger pointed at you.

You put your hands up in surrender, dropping the spray can to the floor with a clang. “Fine.”

“This was your hideout spot?” He asks, looking around the alleyway. It wasn’t that far from the one where you injured him, but that wasn’t the point. It looked just like any other place.

“No, it’s up there.” You reply, pointing up at the rooftop. “ Race me up?”

He lets out a small laugh, forgetting what your powers allow you to do. “What’s the prize?”

“No prize, just friendly competition.” You pause for a moment, trying to remember something. It was on the tip of your tongue. “Oh, right! Also, bragging rights.”

“Alright.” He agrees, holding out his hand. “Let’s shake on it.”

“Shake on it?” You laugh, but oblige anyway. “Okay, on the count of 3.”

After a brief countdown, which surprised him when you didn’t pull a trick on him with it, you ran up the wall and got up there first. Granted, he did the same thing, but you were faster.

“Damn.” Peter complained, earning him a smirk from you.

He didn’t linger upon the thought, though, instead he looked at you. Your legs were glowing neon red, just like the rest of the times he’d seen your powers. “See something you like?”

He snaps up to your eyes. “Who admires legs?” He tries to play it off cool.

“Plenty of people.” You walk over to the edge of the roof, which was barely preventing falling with a half wall.

You sat down on the wall, gesturing for Spider-Man to sit next to you.

“Isn’t this dangerous?” He sits down either way.

You raise an eyebrow at him, “I’ve seen you do this before.”

“You have?” He didn’t think many people looked at him often, since he was whizzing past them everyday. Well, he was sitting stationary rather than swinging.

“Mhm.” You hum a yes, swinging your legs back and forth.

You both sit in silence for a few minutes. You fiddled with the light from your glow stick while Peter was trying to decipher if the silence was awkward or comfortable.

You were thinking about who Spider-Man was, despite saying it was a bit rude the last time you and the spandex clad hero talked. You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about it, especially when you suspected your crush of being Spider-Man. Nowadays, thinking about how cute Peter was, or how your relationship would go, would usually lead to thinking about the possibility of him being Spider-Man.

If you didn’t have a plausible reason to forget that possibility, you would never even think about confessing to Peter.

You really did, but you weren’t sure if he reciprocated your feelings. You would feel crushed if he said he didn’t like you back. You’d been crushing on him for the better half of the year and you were sure it turned into more than a small crush now.

A lot of late night thoughts were about Peter, so of course you’d already thought of the reasons why you thought he was Spider-Man and narrowed down the way to approach him and ask.

You doubted he’d tell you, but it was worth a try if it’d help you get over it.

“Hey, Peter.” You were about to correct yourself but Spider-Man interrupted.

“Who-Who’s Peter?” He tried to sound confused, but it came out as if he were playing off a bad lie. He rubs the back of his neck at his mistake.

You raise an eyebrow but continue anyway. “Spider-Man. You’re.. Peter, aren’t you?” You’d thought about this so many times yet the execution was horrible.

“Peter who?” He gulps nervously.

“Parker.” He stares at you in the eye. Your face is full of hope, and he doesn’t want to crush it by saying ‘no’. But he can’t have just anyone knowing he’s Spider-Man.

What kind of things would you do with that knowledge? You wouldn’t spread it around, he was sure of that! Was he?

What if other people knew you knew who he was? You’d be in danger of kidnappings. Then again, you had your own powers, ones that certainly felt better than his. But he didn’t know what kind of tech supervillains carry around.

He decides on saying no, despite how hard it’ll be to handle, for the both of you. He can’t help but think his decision isn’t well thought-out though.

The denial and the way he says it is enough to convince you, despite the suspicious way he acted earlier.

You let out an embarrassed laugh, fidgeting with your fingers. “Right, sorry. Bit rude of me to guess, isn’t it?”

“No.” Peter breaths out. “It’s alright, you’re curious.”

You nod, continuing to ramble in order to ease yourself. “It’s just.. you really remind me of him. He’s just,” You smile at the thought of him. “really cute. The way the both of you act is similar. I kind of like the guy, can you believe that?” You wait for a response, but he doesn’t give one. “No? He’s… perfect. I’ve been pining over him since the start of school.”

He can’t handle it anymore. Call him selfish, but hearing his crush likes him back is too much to handle. “I’m Peter Parker.” He says in a rush.

“What?” You’re startled, furrowing your eyebrows. “But you said--”

“Yeah, sorry. At the time it seemed like I shouldn’t have told you, the cons outweighed the pros but…” He knew what he had to say, but he was nervous. “I-I.. I like you too.”

You smile, standing up from the edge and pulling him with you. You move further onto the roof, at an area in the middle where not many people are likely to see you. “Prove it, then.” You were beaming with excitement.

Peter slowly slides off his mask, leaving you stunned as you look at him. “Hey, I’m Spider-Man. I’m here for more kisses.”

You laugh at the reference from earlier on that night.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I literally just asked for a kiss.”

“On the lips.”

“Oh.”

He nods and you happily give him a kiss. He responds quickly and rather sloppily, it’s a miracle how your noses don’t bump into each other from how uncoordinated he is.

“First kiss?” You ask when you pull back.

“Yeah.” Peter replies, face flushed not only from the kiss but also from the fact that you took notice of it being his first too.

“Do you need lessons?”

Congratulations, you just killed Peter Parker.

[captaincravatthecapricious]

Mabel AU- The Letters

@haberdashing

Martin is an at home care giver, trying to reach the Grandson of his latest client.

This is basically a rewrite of the first episode of Mabel.  There really aren't many direct quotes, only a couple very short ones, everything else is mine.

Thanks for reading!  If you want more of this AU, let me know, or just let me know if you enjoyed!   Another fic of some sort or other will be posted next week!

ARCHIVIST: Hello, you’ve reached Jonathan Sims.  I’m not here to take your call right now.  Please leave a message after the beep.  Thank you.  

[BEEP]

MARTIN: Hey, Jonathan, right?  My name is Martin Blackwood, and I’m with Kings County Home Help?  I’ve been taking care of your grandmother for the past six months.  I’m her at home carer?  I know I probably shouldn’t have your number, but I wanted to check in with you.  Nothing’s wrong.  Nothing’s wrong.  Gertrude Sims is fine.  Good, actually, for her age.  Sorry, is that insensitive?   In any case, I’d like a call back, if you aren’t too busy.  Right.  Let me apologize for how I got your number.  I know it’s probably unorthodox, probably breeching some privacy agreement or something… 

[SIGH]

[ASIDE]

Don’t tell him that, Christ what is wrong with you?

[TO JON]

Right.  Well I got your number from my coworker, Sasha, who’s friends with Tim, who’s friends with you.  And he apparently hasn’t heard from you in a little, and would like him to call you back.  He told Sash to tell me to tell you that, by the way.  That was the price for your number.  Sorry for that.  I’m sure you have …things.  A life in the real world and not in this distant and lovely house.  

…Sorry, that was… Anyways, give me a call back when you can, yeah?  Thanks.  Bye!

[ASIDE] 

Christ!  What’s wrong with you… catch sight of one pretty photo… SHIT, right, hanging up.  

[BEEP]

[MUFFLED THROUGH A POCKET] 

[QUIETLY SINGING TO HIMSELF OVER THE SOUND OF KITCHEN] 

…Onions in the paaaaaan.  Why aren’t you hot enough yeeeet?  The water sizzledddddd, but it isn’t sizzling noooow.  

[NEGLECTED PHONE SOUND] 

[REALIZING]

OH SHIT.  SORRY.  

[BEEP]

[CLEARS THROAT] 

Hi, Mr. Sims.  It’s me again.  It’s Martin.  I… I’m trying to reach you… again.  …As you probably can tell.  It’s just been three days, and I would really like a call back.  I just realized I didn’t give a number or like, I know you can probably figure out that you can reach me through this number, but I didn’t say it and I didn’t tell you when I was available, and maybe that’s why you haven’t gotten back to me.  At least I hope that’s why.  I… I can’t imagine not calling one of my Mum’s doctors back.  Anyways, my number is [CENSORED] in case you can’t just ring back or something.  Maybe your phone blocks unknow numbers and you haven’t even gotten this.  Maybe I was listed as private and you couldn’t call back.  Maybe you’re very polite and didn’t want to bother me when you didn’t know my schedule.  I’m available from 2-5pm and in the evenings after 9pm.  Or maybe you’ve got phone anxiety.  I know I do, heh.  I’m sweating just leaving you this message.  

Or maybe you’re just busy.  

Or maybe you tried to call, and I just didn’t get it.  The reception isn’t great out here, as …you probably know.  Given you grew up here.  But anyways I have made sure I can get your message even with the dead-phone zones.  It’s all set up.  So… just needing a call back when you can.  Well, not needing.  But… I’d like one.  Thanks.  Bye.  

[BEEP]

Hi.  It’s me …again.  Just… trying to reach you.  Whatever.  

[BEEP] 

Call me back and let me know you aren’t dead in a ditch somewhere, okay?  Sash says Tim is really worried… And… I might be too.  Not that I even know you.  Not really.  So if you aren’t rotting in some hole somewhere, give me a call back, please?

[BEEP]

Where did you go?  

[BEEP]

Hi.  It’s me.  …I’ve heard a lot about you, you know?  Mostly from you Grandmother, Gertrude.  

[ASIDE] 

Christ, Martin.  He knows his grandmother’s name.  

[TO JON]

Right.  Anyhow.  She’s told me a lot of stories, you know?  She’s actually pretty sharp.  Most of the time, anyhow.  Mostly lucid.  I’m not sure if that’s all because of her medicine or what.  I’ve… I help a lot of old people, at the end of their lives.  And well… when I say she’s sharp, I mean that she is sharp comparatively, and also just remarkably so.  Her words are confident, and considered.  She doesn’t waste words, but she doesn’t shy away from telling stories.  (I’m sure it’s just because she has no one else to talk to.  Not even you.)  But… you’ve stopped feeling like a real person on the other end of the line.  That’s part of why I wanted to call?  I guess?  The longer that it’s been since my first message, the more I doubt myself for calling, and why I called.  Sorry, then, for wasting your time.  Thinking of you more like a book character, than someone with feelings and thoughts and a life.  Someone who I know too much about for us to be casual strangers, even if I am a complete stranger to you.  It just feels like a weird imbalance, you know?  

Also… it’s a bit lonely out here, you know?  Gertrude has a lot of old photographs of you.  None of them are recent.  And I know it isn’t my business, but… never mind.  It isn’t my business… and I get it.  

But… she still has your photos up.  It’s my job to dust them.  So, every week or so, I get a really good look at them.  There’s one of you on the tire swing out back… it’s still back there, you know?  You have mud all over your dungarees.  And in your hair.  Then there’s one… you look about 7?  Your hair is in pig tails, and you are scowling at something off to your right.  I don’t know what it is, and I know I shouldn’t find that kind of adorable, but I do.  And there’s one of you in uni.  You’re flipping off the camera and your hair is short and you’re wearing eyeliner.  You look some odd combination of pissed off and like you’re having the time of your life.  

[ASIDE]

And really, really, really hot.  Christ, Martin, keep it together.  You are literally on the phone with him, and you haven’t even talked to him.  Jesus!

[TO JON]

I.. wish I could have known you then.  That’s the oldest you look in these.  Most of these are pictures of you when you were little.  Mostly just you.  A few of your dad when he was young, and one of your parents.  She’s pregnant, and it’s sunset.  They look so …happy.  Christ, I’m sorry about what happened to them.  I… I didn’t really know my dad either.  

Sorry.  This isn’t about me.  

I’m calling because this place is… spooky.  Spooky like a dark fairy tale.  

Everything here is a bit… magical and creepy.  

This house is old.  Like a museum.  Dusty boxes in the attic, full of treasures and dust the relics of the past, like the Long past.  Not just the past of one lifetime.  The garden is overgrown, despite my best efforts.  Sometimes, Gertrude comes out and helps me garden.  Usually in her chair.  Mostly I just wheel here out so she can get some sun while I work.  That’s where I hear most of the stories about you.  

It’s overgrown with twisting vines and the most beautiful roses I have ever seen, with scary-long thorns.  

I feel like I’ve walked into the setting for a classic.  Like Jane Eyre or Pride and Prejudice, or hell, even Tolkien.  Or even Grimm’s fairytales.  The original, dark ones.  

It’s… unsettling.  Especially when it’s foggy out.  

The rest of the hills disappear into the fog and the condensation clings to the flowers, desaturated with the thickness of the moisture in the air, and the everything is coated in the most delicate, perfect little water droplets.  

Anyhow.  The reason I’m really calling… are the letters.  

I was helping Gertrude move some things up to the attic.  She’s one of the practical sorts of old people.  She isn’t afraid of her death.  She wants everything to be easy on you, you know?  Make sure you don’t have to go through too much stuff when she passes on.  I’ve lived with a lot of people through their deaths.  It’s nice… making sure no one dies alone.  Making sure they are comfortable.  Making it as painless as possible.  

[ASIDE]

Lord knows my efforts were never good enough for my mother… but if I can help other people…

[TO JON]

I know it’s a little morbid.  But I like it.  I feel… useful.  I’m good at it.  I’m good at keeping up conversations, and at cooking, and cleaning, and providing medical assistance, as needed.  Not that I’m an actual doctor, but I, you know, do have a lot of training.  

Anyway.  The letters.  I was helping her move some stuff into the attic, and bringing down some older boxes so she could go through them and decide what she was ready to toss, when I found them.  This box full of letters.  Hundreds of them.  All unopened.  Sealed with a kiss.  Lipstick red.  Red as dying embers.  Stamped returned to sender.  Slightly scorched around the edges.  Tied in bundles.  Identical envelops.  Identical loose, looping cursive.  All from someone named Agnes?  All addressed to Gertrude.  

That would be fine, I guess?  

But she screamed when she opened it.  An inhuman sound.  

Like the sound was ripped from her.  

And, I have never cared for a more grounded person.  I have never seen her anything but… well not completely calm all the time, but mostly calm, you know?  I’ve seen her sharp, I’ve seen her annoyed.   Heh, half the time it looks like she wants to judge me, but then doesn’t… if that makes sense?  Mostly she looks… like she knows so much more than I do and that she is calm in her knowledge?  I’ve seen so much as a carer.  There isn’t much that rattles me.  Not death, not illness, not panic, but… but this was different.  

After that… she was shaken badly.  Screamed for what seemed like hours, then just stared at me and said “I’m going into the ground for you.”  I… I couldn’t calm her down.  Not until late evening, and I didn’t even have a break because the relief carer was off sick.  

I finally got her to bed, and… I had to take another look.  That’s when I got a good look at the envelopes.  I… I want to open them.  I haven’t.  I know I shouldn’t…. but…. I want to know what could have shaken her that badly?  Someone that stable and grounded, you know?  

Heh, maybe you could call me back and make sure I don’t do something stupid.  And ya know, let me know that you aren’t’ dead in a ditch.  Tim’s started texting me directly now!  He’s… he’s really worried about you.  

Anyhow, I just need to know-

[BEEP]

[CONTINUED BEEPING]

AUTOMATED VOICE: The voicemail inbox for [Jonathan Sims] is full. Please call again later. 

[DIAL TONE] 

[pinkmingi]

V.I.P // C. San ~ (m)

Description: A wealthy, rising young star stumbles into your camming liveshow one evening and immediately becomes your highest paying client. Needless to say- that role comes with certain added benefits, including private shows that San has every intention of using to his advantage.

word count: 5.3k

Features: San x Camgirl!Reader, mutual masturbation, cum play (light), edging, being paid for sexual services (i.e. camming) etc.

2:04am. You squinted against the harsh light of your phone screen as it vibrated in your hand.

New Message From:

Choi San- Tier 6

You hated the way your heart skipped a beat, even if just for a moment, when you saw his name flash across the screen. You weren’t exactly surprised, between his work schedule (from what little he’d told you about his work) and the time difference he tended to send his requests at all hours of the night, long after you’d finished your regular liveshow and gone to sleep—yet you always seemed to wake up when he messaged. If just 3 months ago you’d been told that you would be willfully getting out of bed to put on your prettiest set of pink lingerie and reapplying your livestream makeup for a single customer at 2 in the morning��you would’ve never believed them. Then again, 3 months ago there was no such thing as a Tier 6.

 *3 months earlier*

 “Thank you again to all my beautiful new viewers, I see some of you guys in the chat, don’t be shy say to say hello! I promise there’s no judgement here…” You smiled sweetly, flashing the camera your undeniably charming face that had so many clients coming back to your liveshows on a regular basis—you fulfilled their wildest fantasies and you did it with seemingly no effort.

“I’ve been feeling so restless lately, I don’t know what’s gotten into me—there must be something in the weather here…everything’s making me feel, hmm..needy I guess?” You laughed at the way you spoke so casually in front of an audience of strangers, though many of them were regulars and in that sense seemed less strange to you.

“How’s everyone been feeling lately? Don’t be afraid to open up, I really wanna know.” You smiled as you leaned towards the camera, casually showing off a bit more of your cleavage in the delicate and intricate lace bra that hugged you perfectly. 9.3k viewers, your streams really were growing fast.

 Kinkydaddyxx76 (Tier 2) has sent you a donation!

Erenda_903 (Tier 1) has sent you a donation!

Justcurious111 (Guest) has sent you a donation!

Lovemeharddom_ (Tier 4) has sent you a donation!

You smiled to yourself as you thanked the members by name for their donations, it was about the personal experience for many of them, and as regulars of your streams you’d always found it important that they be recognized and treated with special care—it was one of the reasons that your streams had become so popular so quickly, despite only camming for a little over a year you’d acquired a large and dedicated group of viewers who you always made sure to treat with great care and respect. That was just part of the job.

“I’m gonna be wrapping up the general admission stream soon you guys, but don’t forget if you want extra access to the after party live show you are always welcome—I have 5 tiers of access available for my very special VIP members, the descriptions of each are listed on my profile. I hope to see as many of you there as possible, my members know how much I love an audience.” You winked playfully, adjusting your seat on the perfectly made bed, giving the camera a killer view of your legs and booty shorts as you read through the chat one last time before getting ready to log off. Just as you were getting ready to wrap up, however, a series of notifications appeared in the chat.

ChoiSinForMe has entered your cam room!

ChoiSinForMe has subscribed!

ChoiSinForMe is now a Tier 5 member!

 You eyes widened as you read the last message again—Tier 5. You could probably count on 2 hands the number of Tier 5 subscribers that you had, it was a pretty expensive and elite level—and those who did purchase that level of subscription had been watching you since practically the beginning. You’d never seen this account on your streams before, he was completely new and already he’d become one of your highest paying clients. Taken aback, you nearly forgot to thank the new account for subscribing, your hands fidgeting slightly as you tucked a strand of hair nervously behind your ear. Who was this person?

“Uhmm, whoa…this is unexpected, thank you @ChoiSinForMe for becoming my newest member, welcome to the Princess Playroom, I hope you’ll enjoy your time here!” You smiled sweetly, still feeling a bit giddy and on edge at the prospect of the new member messaging you—that was a perk of Tier 5 members, they had the ability to private message you, as well as make special requests that lower tiers were not permitted to make.

You had just finished thanking everyone for coming, turning off the stream and sitting back against the headboard of your bed as you started at the computer monitor in front of you. You couldn’t get the strange new account out of your head…you couldn’t pinpoint why exactly, but there was something so sexy to you about the mystery. After what seemed like an eternity of staring at the private message tab of your account, a notification ding sounded through the otherwise quiet solitude of your apartment bedroom. Jumping slightly, you didn’t hesitate to scroll up, unable to contain the intrigued smile that played against your lips as you saw that, in fact, it was from your new subscriber.

New Chat!

ChoiSinForMe (Tier 5):

I’m sorry if I startled you in the live stream earlier

I’ll admit I liked the way your face froze tho

 You wouldn’t like to admit the amount of times you read that message over again, overwhelmed with the butterflies you felt in your stomach, and the way your cheeks flushed at the idea that you were getting so worked up over a client. Sure, you’d heard of people camming and getting turned on by the people watching them, but you’d honestly never really experienced that with any one subscriber in particular—they were mostly just nice, slightly older men with more money and time than they could handle. So why did this feel different?

 PrincessPlayroom (Host):

It’s nothing I can’t handle, welcome though ~ I’ve never had anyone become a member so quickly after entering my stream before J

 His reply was fast, and it sent you into a state of shock almost as quickly.

 ChoiSinForMe (Tier 5):

I know what I like. Figured this was the best way to get your attention

I have a proposal, actually—I don’t wanna waste your time, my tastes are specific and I don’t share.

I’m interested in private video calls, noticed that you don’t have that as a feature…but if you’re down to try something like that let me know. The price is…inconsequential.

My name is San, by the way.

 You weren’t exactly sure what to say. He was right, that wasn’t something you’d ever offered before. No one had ever requested it before—that wasn’t to say you didn’t receive strange requests because your chat room was filled with out of the ordinary things. But for such a high-paying client to make a request for an individual stream…you weren’t sure what to say. For some reason, you weren’t ready to immediately shut down the request—maybe it was the prospect that this guy, at least from his messages, sounded like he was genuinely ready to pay anything for what he wanted. Something about that confidence made you squirm.

 PrincessPlayroom (Host):

 That’s certainly a unique offer, you’re right though—that isn’t a Tier 5 perk.

I’m curious though, indulge me in these “specific tastes” of yours, San

 You couldn’t help but bite your lip at what he might say, subconsciously squeezing your legs together slightly as you waited for his reply. When your computer dinged again, the message was shorter than you’d anticipated, and very much left you wanting more.

 ChoiSinForMe (Tier 5):

 I’m not a big texter. Call me on Skype and we can talk.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX

And in case you thought I wasn’t serious—

Xoxo, San

 ChoiSinForMe has sent you $1000!

 Your heart was pounding in your chest and you could feel heat building in the pit of your stomach—should you call him? Who the hell was this guy, who sent you a grand just for entertaining the idea of calling him? Part of you wondered if something like this was really the smartest decision, but the other half of you couldn’t help but follow the intrigue of it all. This had never happened to you before, sure you had a few higher paying clients but none of them were like this. This man was something new. Without giving your mind time to cloud you with reasons why this probably wasn’t a good idea, you’d logged onto your skype account, connected your camera to the computer monitor and turned it on. Sitting upright on your bed, legs outstretched, you fixed your hair slightly before dialing his number. What the fuck were you doing…was this a mistake? Was he gonna end up being a creep or—the sound of the call being answered interrupted your thoughts.

“You look good like this, Princess.” His voice hit your speakers before his camera came into focus, but you swear if you’d been standing his voice alone would’ve been enough to make your knees a little weak. The instant his camera came into focus, your greatest worry came to life—he was ridiculously handsome. Maybe this was why you’d always preferred streaming to a faceless audience, it didn’t feel real. They were just names in the chat, but him? The man in the black t-shirt and grey sweatpants sitting on a king size bed with his head resting in the palm of his hand as he eyed you with a smirk on his lips…he was doing things to you. He was making you nervous, and you never got nervous over things like this. It’s just work, Y/N…it’s just work. He’s a client, that’s it.

“H-hi, I’m sorry, hah...this is all very new for me. I’ve never had a live conversation with a member before.” You blushed, running a hand through your hair as you watched San’s dark eyes, they never wavered from you as he clearly trailed the length of your body—taking his time as he took in the view.

“I guess I must be special then, hmm?” He smiled softly, leaning back on his hands and giving you an all-too perfect view of how tight his sweatpants already were. For some reason, this gave you a surge of confidence. Sure, he may be wealthy, and he may be getting special treatment, but this was your client. He was paying you, he wanted you—you were in charge. You smiled teasingly as you trailed your hand softly down the expanse of your body, stopping at the hem of your underwear as you casually played with the thin elastic band, biting your lip slightly.

“We’ll see…I’m charging you by the hour, by the way.” San laughed slightly at this, nodding in agreement.

“That’s fair…since you’re on the clock, why don’t you tell me your name?” He wasn’t jumping into any far out requests, even though a twisted little part of you wished he would. If he’d asked to see you undone for him right that instant, however, you might be embarrassed by how wet you’d already become.

“You can call me Princ-“

“Your real name, baby.” He interjected, his face unwavering. You never shared your real name with your clients, even your highest tier members.

“You sure do ask for a lot for a Tier 5, don’t you?” You teased, sliding closer to the camera as you watched his face give way to a sinful smile.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be a Tier 5 then…tell me.” He was breaking down your walls quickly, but the thrill of it all outweighed the reservations and rules you’d made for yourself when you first entered the world of camming—things like not letting a client in too close to your personal life, never blurring the line between customer and relationship, never—

“Y/n.” You blurted out suddenly, trying your best not to get flustered at the way San’s eyes twinkled and his pants grew tighter as he repeated your name aloud, humming in approval at the way it fell from his lips.

“Pretty…” He muttered softly, shifting in his seat on the edge of the bed as he watched your gorgeous frame, how your lace lingerie clung to your body just right and the way your hair framed that perfect face of yours—he was especially entranced by your thighs and the way they spread out perfectly against your plush mattress. God he wanted to watch you in every position imaginable.

“I know this must be a bit strange for you…why don’t you ask me a few questions, it might make you feel more comfortable. I’ll do the same, hmm? Let’s say, 3.” San suggested casually, rubbing his finger thoughtfully against his bottom lip as you blushed at the fact that you were supposed to be the professional, yet he was guiding the conversation. Laughing softly, you nodded.

“Hmm, someone seems to know what they’re doing, do you do this with other content creators here?” You were laughing, but a small part of you hoped he’d say no. San smirked, running a hand through his dark black hair as he shook his head.

“Is that your first question?” You blushed slightly, rolling your eyes as you nodded.

“Yes.” He smiled.

“No. I’ve actually never done this before either, I’ve always wanted to…but I never really found a person I was…interested in like this before.” He paused as you tried to hold some semblance of professionalism together, nodding thoughtfully as you felt your stomach knot.

“My turn…why’d you agree to try this?” You didn’t have to think long on your answer before you replied.

“You intrigued me, I think something about you was just…sexy.” You loved the visibly turned on reaction that San tried to suppress as the last word left your lips, his hand coming to lay across the inseam of his sweatpants in a half-hearted attempt to disguise what was becoming an increasingly noticeable erection. Clearing his throat, he chuckled softly. You knew what you were doing to him and it was driving him wild far more easily than he’d anticipated.

“How old are you?” You asked back, playing absentmindedly with a fluffy throw pillow on your bed, laying down in a more comfortable and relaxed position now as you felt the chemistry begin to unfold between the two of you.

“I’m 21. Younger than you’re used to?” You laughed softly, nodding. How was he so wealthy and still so young?

“So are you a self-made kinda rich boy, or the old family money kind?” A cheeky grin spread across San’s face as you asked your final question.

“I’m fortunate to have a good job, the details aren’t important but…it’s given me a comfortable life. I try to keep my work and private life separate, I’m sure you’re plenty familiar with confidentiality though…” You nodded thoughtfully as you eyed his broad shoulders and veiny arms, even through a computer screen his incredible shape was apparent.

“Last question, y/n…” He murmured softly, causing shivers to run down your spine at cadence of his honey voice.

“Mmm…” You replied, squeezing your thighs tightly together in a feeble attempt to relieve some of the built up tension this almost stranger was causing you feel. What he said next, however, would send you completely over the edge.

“Are you wet for me right now?” Your body froze as you attempted to collect your flustered self, hating the way he was clearly eating it up as his hand slowly palmed at his fully hard cock through the fabric of his pants, not even trying to hide the large bulge that was begging to be released.

“Y-yes.” You muttered softly, entranced by the way he took control of the situation. He hummed lowly in approval, sliding his hand underneath the waistband of his sweatpants as you watched the outline of his fingers stroke himself. He was ridiculously hot, but you figured he already knew that. You blushed, doing your best to bite back the sinful smile that threatened to flicker across your face as you felt your aching needs growing stronger by the minute. This man was really something if his presence alone was enough to make you falter—but you couldn’t forget, this was your show. Pulling your hair back away from your face and sliding yourself closer to the camera, you flashed him a knowing look as you tilted your head slightly. Your confidence was back.

“Did I say you could stroke yourself already?” Your soft voice echoed out against the speakers of his laptop like honey, and there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt in his mind that if you’d been in the room with him this would’ve been the moment where he’d pin you against the wall and dare you to disobey him. Instead, he let out a low chuckle, his gaze low and his hair hanging over his eyes as he slowed the pace of his hand.

“Mmm, it’s cute you think you’re in charge, (Y/N)…Truly.” He wasn’t going to cave easily, you didn’t expect him to. Truthfully, you didn’t want him to. Something about the chase, the push and pull—the rising tensions of the seemingly endless back and forth, it fueled you.

Not backing down so easily, you retorted,

“You can’t even help yourself around me for five minutes—I think that’s proof enough.” San smirked, biting his lip shamelessly as he pushed his hair away from his face. Making eye contact with you through the screen, he watched in enjoyment as your cheeks flushed slightly while his hand tightened around the sizeable bulge in his pants, quickening his movements slightly and raising an eyebrow as though challenging your previous statement.

“I’m paying you to say pretty things and watch me jack off, princess—that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you have your way with everything…” You could feel your core heating up when he called you princess, it’d always been a favorite pet name of yours. Fiddling with the hem of your panties, you slid a finger just below the waistband as you teased him with the image of what you’ll look like without them. It wasn’t hard to tell his eyes were glued to your body, his eyes dark and filled with lust as you continued to tease him with your words.

“Mmm…my show, my rules. I’m not just gonna sit here and obey your every order, yknow. I’m not that kind of girl, Mr. Choi.” His jaw went slack when you addressed him that way, his mouth hanging just slightly agape as he threw his head back, the prominent veins in his arms showing as he balanced his weight on his free arm that propped him up—his right hand pre-occupied as he continued to quicken the pace of his strokes. You could see the swelling in his sweatpants and you could feel your panties becoming soaked at the mere idea of him finally releasing the beast he was fighting to hold back. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower and more gravelly than it had been before, he was becoming more and more depraved the longer you teased him without touching yourself—without showing him everything he was hungering to see.

“A good girl?” You smirked, you had him exactly where you wanted him. You had to admit though, he may have had you right where he wanted you as well.

“I’m nothing of the sort.” His long strokes slowed slightly as he began to pace himself, not ready to tip himself over the edge without watching you cum all over your fingers. He could tell you were wet for him and, though he couldn’t be sure, he had confidence that that alone made him stand out amidst your other clients. He’d only just met you, but it only took one look in those sinfully pure eyes to know that he desperately wanted—no, needed—to make you cum.

“And what kind of girl are you then, hmm?” The heat and pressure rising in your core was too much to bare at this point, and you’d decided that the poor man had earned what he was so obviously craving—you. Without another thought, you unclasped the back of your bra, letting it fall to the side as your breasts were now fully exposed for him. A low groan sounded from your speakers and you could tell he was more than enjoying the view. Not finished with him just yet, you slipped your fingers under the hemline of your panties, sliding them down until the lace crumpled around your ankles and you were left completely bare on your bedspread. Spreading yourself out for him to see, you leaned back and slowly slid your hand down to relieve the pressure building up inside you. A low “fuck” hissed out between San’s gritted teeth as he edged his stroking along, the slow pace becoming almost excruciating.

“What kind of girl do you want me to be?” You teased, nearly breathless already as a single finger slid between your soaked folds, easing its way inside you with a few pumps as a small moan escaped your lips. San groaned as his grip tightened around his length at the sound of your pretty moans ringing in his ear, licking his lips as he finally couldn’t take the restrictive fabric any longer. Without hesitation, San yanked his sweatpants down until they were around his ankles where he effortlessly discarded them, his throbbing length proudly on display as a small gasp left your mouth. It wasn’t that you weren’t used to men jacking off to you—but you’d never seen it live like this, and something about it was ridiculously sexy. The fact that this particular client was Choi San didn’t hurt, though.

“I want you to be the kind of girl who rides her own pretty, little fingers until she cums to the sound of my voice. I want you to moan my name…my first name, like you’d give anything to be here riding my dick right now. Because I know you would.” This time it was you who was slightly at a loss for words, biting down hard against the insides of your cheeks as you sucked in a deep breath, nodding as you opened your legs to give him an even better view of your sinful touches. He was right, eyeing the long and girthy member pulsating in his hand you couldn’t help but wish that you had something more to get off to instead of just your fingers.

“Can you do that for me, baby…hmm?” He re-focused his strokes to just the tip of his cock, massaging the head with an unrelenting pace as he dragged the pad of his thumb over the tip, swiveling his wrist ever so slightly as he continued the shallowed pumps. You nodded.

“Mmmm, yes, San. Only if you cum for me just as hard…” His eyelids lowered slightly as his gaze became lazy, a small smile playing on his lips as he nodded, speeding up his strokes as he watched you slide another finger inside of your glistening hole, moaning at the added pressure as your thumb drew circles against your clit, pressing down with gradually increasing pressure to help you relieve the pressure you’d lost from opening your legs.

“Oh I plan on it, princess—now turn around for me. I wanna see that ass nice n’ high while you touch yourself.” You turned around easily, pressing your chest against the mattress and arching your back as your ass perked up, sliding your hand up between your thighs and griding your clit down against the palm of your hand as a couple fingers slid back inside your heat. San’s low groans grew louder and more breathless as his strokes became longer and more staggered, enjoying the view of you bent over for him and fantasizing about the way you’d feel if he ever had the opportunity to bend you over and rail you himself.

“Fuuck, just like that—mmmm, you are a good girl for me, aren’t you?” You moaned at the way his once soft, now raspy voice teased you. Propping yourself up with your free arm you turned your head to look at him over your shoulder, smirking.

“A good girl would beg you to stroke yourself slowly…so slow that you’re almost in pain, begging me to let you go faster and finish yourself off.” San smirked, not always liking the idea of submitting in the bedroom but willing to entertain this small idea for you.

“Does that mean you’re a good girl then? I mean, you are begging me…” You turned yourself back around, sitting in your knees with your legs spread as you leaned forward onto your hands as he watched the rise and fall of your breasts keep pace with your heavy breaths.

“I’m not begging you, I’m telling you.” This time, San listened, allowing you to have your way this once as he slowed his long pumps to a painfully slow pace, already feeling his load building and swelling in his balls as he adjusted himself on the bed, his breathing becoming even more ragged than before. You smirked, biting down on your lip as you took in the sight of his slightly sweaty body and the way his hair clung to the sides of his face from the building beads of sweat. He was completely strung out at this point, his gaze filled with pure lust and his lips barely capable of forming sentences as he threw his head back once again, echoing incoherent slurs of curse words and moans. The action alone was enough to send you over the edge, but you held yourself together as you pumped your fingers even faster inside yourself, your needy moans growing in volume.

“Fuck you look so pretty like that, Y/N….tell me how good it feels…” Screwing your eyes shut as you hit that perfect sensitive spot, a breathless moan escaped your lips as you nodded.

“S-so good…Aahhh, fuck you’d feel so much better, though…” A wide smile spread across San’s face as his eyes remained closed, nodding as he hummed in approval. His cock was throbbing even harder than before, hungry for release as he continued to obey you.

“Mmmm, I must be something special if you’re considering riding the dick of a stranger you just met…” His voice vibrating through the speakers made you wish his mouth was around your clit, sucking down hard as he groaned into your tight and aching pussy. You knew it was wrong, and that this kind of attraction to a client was completely foreign to you—but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Mmmff fuck, shut up and cum already.” You breathed out, whining against the sensations of your fingers as San chuckled lowly, breathing a sigh of relief as he finally began to quicken his strokes, feeling the pressures build as he neared his release. You were riding your fingers at this point, your breasts bouncing up and down as you picked up the pace, needy for your own climax as you watched the man you knew hardly anything about turn you on more than anything real you’d encountered in a very long time.

“Shit, Y/N…your body is fucking insane…” San breathed out, his strokes ruthless and sloppy as his hips bucked up to meet his hand, unable to express in words how badly he wished it was you on top of him instead. You moaned, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.

“Aahhh god I’m close.” You whined, curling your fingers up to stroke your pressure points as you arched your back and threw your head back from pleasure. This was all it would take for San to be tipped over the edge, his breathing hitched in his throat as he continued to speed up his needy strokes.

“Cum for me, princess—all over those pretty little fingers. I wanna watch you lick them clean…” With that, you managed a dazed nod before grinding your hips down against your hand one last time, the pressure becoming too much as you finally tipped over the edge and your orgasm ran through your entire body. Your pretty moans were enough to send him hurdling towards his own orgasm as you rode out your high. Breathing slow, you eased your fingers out and made eye contact with the man who’d made you cum with nothing but his voice as he groaned, stroking himself hard. He was ridiculously close, but the moment you bit your lip and slid your soaking wet fingers inside your lips, swirling your tongue around them and licking them clean just as he’d told you to—he couldn’t take it anymore. Thick, creamy white ropes erupted from his cock, covering his thighs and the bedsheet beneath him as he groaned, inhaling sharply and tilting his head back in ecstasy as you moaned yourself at the ridiculously sexy view. Several spurts dripped down his hand as he slowed his strokes, massaging the glistening head of his cock slowly as his eyes shut and he rode out one of the most intense orgasm’s he’d ever felt. Breathing heavily, the two of you were sat in euphoric silence for a moment as you took in the pleasure that was still coursing through your bodies.

‘Fuck…”He muttered out after a moment. You blushed slightly, smiling at the reassurance that he’d enjoyed himself.

“For someone who’s never done that before…you sure knew what you were doing.” He laughed breathlessly, running a hand through his hair as he grabbed a towel from nearby, cleaning himself off lazily as you did the same, smiling.

“Well it is my job…it was definitely something new though.” You teased, winking playfully as San smiled in return.

“So let’s make it a regular thing then.” He blurted decidedly. You gave him a questioning look. Sure a small part of you hoped that you’d get the opportunity to do something like this or more again, but you hadn’t held out hope. You’d assumed he was more of a “one time” client.

“For real?” He smiled, nodding as he slid his sweatpants back on, watching as you sat comfortably bare in front of him, adoring the way you allowed him to watch you.

“Yeah, of course. You had fun, I had fun—well, I had a lot of fun…no one’s made me cum like that in a while.” A small blush threatened to tinge your cheeks, though you crossed your fingers it wasn’t noticeable through the screen as he marveled in the idea that someone as sexy as him was turned on by you. Not sexy enough to get it for free though (at least not yet).

“And the price is…” You teased, taunting him. He smirked, shaking his head as he sat upright, his elbows on his knees.

“Like I said, baby—inconsequential. Get some rest, think it over, ok? Message me when you’re ready to say yes.” His confidence was insatiable, and you’d grown a taste for it. Biting your lip, you nodded slowly.

“And what if I decide a Tier 5 member doesn’t deserve all this special treatment, hmm?” He scoffed lowly as he ran a hand through his hair, leaning closer to the camera despite his voice being barely above a whisper.

“Then make a higher tier. Get some sleep now, ok princess?”

~admin liese

☆Requests Open!☆

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (152/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: This story takes place about 1000 years before 66 years after the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[24 December, Age 762.   Namek.]

Luffa found herself back in the past, on the Planet Namek, during Frieza's invasion.    She did not understand how the Scroll of Eternity worked, or how her Time Patrol missions could "fix" anomalies in the flow of time.    What mattered now was that a mysterious enemy had altered the course of events on this date and place, and when Luffa had failed to correct the problem on her first try, she ended up switching bodies with the villainous Captain Ginyu.    Somehow, the Scroll of Eternity had recalled her to the Time Vault, but the only way to complete the mission was to resume from the exact moment where she had left off.   And because of the bodyswapping complication, Luffa would have to handle the matter personally.

Inhabiting Captain Ginyu's massive purple body was a deeply unsettling experience for Luffa.    So was the sight of her own Saiyan body acting independently of her consciousness.   Disillusioned as she was with the Saiyan species and culture, she still clung to her heritage as a refuge of self-esteem.    Ginyu had ripped that away from her without even noticing he had done it.    It had been a great relief to be recalled back to the Time Vault and made whole again.    Returning to this nightmare was just as traumatic as it had been the first time.    Luffa's only solace was that she was somewhat more prepared this time around.  

She felt the weight of her new alien body, took note of the curious deadening of her sense of smell, and felt her own ki nearby,  as Ginyu used her body to attack Goku.    Then she saw Jeice and Guldo, ready to finish her off.   Everything was happening just like before.  

Only this time, Luffa laughed.

"Oi, what's so funny?" Jeice demanded.   The red-skinned, white-haired alien was one of Captain Ginyu's squad of mercenaries.    During her first go-round on this mission, Luffa had noticed that Jeice was familiar with Captain Ginyu's bodyswapping technique.    Jeice had seen it used before, which meant that he must have known the last person Ginyu had used it on.  

"You... fools!   Luffa cackled.   "You played right into my hands!   I never dreamed you'd actually be stupid enough to use that trick again, but now that you have--!   Well, that just makes this so much easier, doesn't it?"

The next moment would decide everything.   Luffa's plan was mostly a hunch followed by a lot of improvisation.   If she had miscalculated, then the entire house of cards would collapse.    Jeice's reaction would tell the story.   He blinked twice, his face blank as he seemed to process what she had just said.

Then he swallowed hard, and his lower lip shrank behind his upper.   Luffa would have smiled anyway, in order to keep up appearances, but now she could grin much more genuinely.    

"Y-you can't be--!" Jeice gasped, his throat suddenly dry with terror.   "Not... him!   It's impossible, ain't it?   W-we left you for dead!"

"Did you actually think a Saiyan woman could fight like that?" Luffa went on.    "Take a look at your captain over there.   He's not doing so well, is he?  He thought that a Saiyan body would give him an edge, but that little savage girl never would have beaten Recoome on her own.  Without me, she's useless.      As for me...?  Well, now I'm back where I belong.   So where does that leave you, Jeice?"

Jeice spared a moment to glance over to the fight between Son Goku and Ginyu-in-Luffa's-body.    Goku had a clear advantage, and Ginyu seemed to be struggling for a chance to switch bodies again to even the odds.      

"It's a trick!" Jeice protested.    "Nah, you're puttin' me on, lady.   I can tell you ain't him.    It can't be.  There... Well, there's no way!"

The sweat on his brow was enough for Luffa to know that she had him in the palm of her hand.   She didn't need to convince Jeice; she just had to make him wonder long enough to stop fighting.   As for Guldo, he had been acting strangely ever since her unknown enemy had enchanted him.    His four eyes still glowed red, and a purple aura rose up from his bulbous green body, making him look like an evil frog.   From then on, Guldo had been driven by his rage against Luffa, but he seemed to lack the will to speak or ask questions, and Luffa's bodyswap with Ginyu seemed to confuse him a little.   The important thing was that Guldo was staying out of the conversation.     Jeice would be a lot harder to fool if someone were around to talk sense into him.

"To be honest, Jeice, I'm not him," Luffa continued.  "I used to be once, but not anymore, I suppose.   You did leave me for dead, but I survived, and I swore I'd find Ginyu someday.    Make you all pay for what you did to me.    I can't switch bodies the way Ginyu does, Jeice.   It's more like a possession.    Or a merger.    With each soul I take over, I lose a little more of myself in the process.  And that Saiyan woman over there?   Hah!   And I thought I had anger issues.    It's funny.   Now that I'm back in my original body, it almost doesn't feel right anymore.     It's just another vessel I've stolen.   I guess after all I've been through, I'll never feel 'right' again.     But that's a small price to pay for revenge.    Yeah, a real bargain, as long as it gets me Ginyu's death."

She had concocted this half-story over a hot stove, working out just enough details to make it sound plausible.    The hard part had been figuring out how to impersonate an alien warrior she knew nothing about, until she realized that she could use that to her advantage.   Besides, if this didn't work, she would fail the mission and have to start over, so she could theoretically try again as many times as she needed, and tweak her approach each time.    Luckily, Jeice was hooked on the first try.  

The key was to look past her own fear of being trapped inside this purple man's body, and see the fear Captain Ginyu must have had for the purple man's body.    It must have belonged to a powerful enemy.   A being so powerful, that there was no other way for Ginyu to defeat him.    And perhaps Ginyu could trade up whenever he was cornered, but Jeice could not.   It wasn't important that Luffa didn't know the purple man's name, or what sort of powers he had.   The body itself was a weapon.    And now that Jeice was paralyzed with fear, Luffa had the chance she needed to figure out how to use it.  

Her first target was Guldo.   A simple ki blast from her eyes was enough to stun him, and that would put his psychic powers out of commission long enough to do what came next.   And now that she didn't have to worry about any psionic hold on her movements, Luffa found that controlling the purple man's body wasn't all that difficult.  

"Guldo!"  Jeice cried.    In the moment it took him to notice Guldo toppling backward and down to the ground below, Luffa was upon him.  

"It must have been comforting, Jeice!" Luffa whispered into his ear as she grabbed him from behind and twisted his arm behind his own back.   "All this time, knowing that you never had to worry about me, as long as your precious captain had control of my body.    But he can't save you now, can he?"

"Y-you're wrong!" Jeice whined.   "The Captain knows how to handle blokes like you!    He always maims himself right before he does a body switch.    Or hadn't y'noticed that hole in your chest?   All that blue stuff leakin' outta you?   That ain't soda, mate."  

"I did notice," Luffa said.   "It's kind of uncomfortable, actually, but I've had worse.   Your boss must have wanted to injure me so I'd be too weak to put up a fight, but he couldn't do too much damage or he'd wind up killing himself before he could use his magic trick."  

It was her-- the purple man's-- left pectoralis muscle that was wounded.   A similar wound on her own body would have been devastating.    Her left arm would be practically useless, to say nothing of potential damage to her ribs and the lung tissue underneath.   And the blood loss alone would have been debilitating.    For a Saiyan body-- and  for several other humanoid anatomies-- this would have been an ideal place to sabotage.    But in the purple man's body, the wound didn't seem to bother her much at all.   It just hurt.    It hurt a lot, but she didn't feel any weaker, and her left arm worked just fine.    In fact, she almost wondered if the wound was healing itself.  

She decided to demonstrate her good fortune by wrapping her left arm around Jeice's neck in a choke hold.  

"You and Ginyu really don't know anything about me, huh?" she asked.    "He wanted my body so badly, but he never bothered to study it, to learn how it works!   So many secrets, Jeice.    Let me share them with you."

This was exactly how she wanted it to work.    She had already overpowered Jeice, but she still needed more time to master the purple man's body.    And it suited her sense of justice that the purple man still carried the keys to victory within his body, long after his spirit had been removed.    She struggled to gather more ki, mostly to intimidate Jeice further, but as she did this, she began to realize it was a lot easier than it had been in her own body.  

"You're crazy!" Jeice pleaded as he gasped for breath.    "Even if you kill me and the Captain, you still wouldn't stand a chance against Lord Frieza."

"You aren't listening Jeice," Luffa snarled.   "I don't care about Lord Frieza, or these Saiyans, or even the Dragon Balls.   I only came here for revenge.   I'm not even sure where I go from here.   I could take your ship and escape, or maybe Frieza will kill me before I get the chance.    It doesn't matter anymore.    As far as I'm concerned, I'm already dead.   I died the day Ginyu stole my body and left me to rot.   All that matters is that you Ginyu Force goons will precede me into hell..."

With a sudden burst of power, fueled by desperation, Jeice managed to break free of Luffa's grip.     He might have attacked, but instead he screamed as loud as he could.  

"Captain Ginyu!   Heeellllp!"  

By the time he realized that he needed to be fighting back, it was too late.   He cut loose with a bombardment of ki energy, and Luffa was enveloped in a glowing vermilion fog of destructive power, but it wasn't enough.    She emerged from the clouds of light and struck Jeice with a devastating punch to his jaw.

"He can't save you," Luffa taunted.   "He can't even save himself."

By now, Luffa was not only satisfied with her own control over Ginyu's body, but with Ginyu's apparent difficulty in handling hers.   She would have expected him to have beaten Son Goku, but instead Ginyu was still struggling.   She doubted that switching bodies again would help him.   His only chance now was to get help from his teammates, and so Luffa decided it was time to eliminate that option.    She held up her hand and fired pointblank into Jeice's face.   When the light of her attack faded, there was nothing left of him.    Her Saiyan body would have caught the odor of burnt flesh and hair, but the purple man's inferior nose couldn’t pick it up, and so Luffa had to settle for her imagination of the aroma.

She smiled anyway.

"Jeice!"

Nearby, it seemed that Captain Ginyu had reached the same conclusion as Luffa.    He needed help to defeat Son Goku, and he was running out of allies.    Recoome and Burter's bodies had barely grown cold, and Jeice was the third to die, but Luffa didn't plan to stop there.      She looked around for Guldo, but could find no trace of him.    Under the influence of the unknown enemy's magic, it was unlikely that he would flee, but his strange powers did make him tough to find.   And then, when she finally realized where Guldo had gone, she flew towards Ginyu as quickly as she could.  

She didn't spot Guldo until she was much closer.    He was taking cover on the ground, behind a large rock formation, but Luffa couldn't take the time to deal with him.    Not while Goku suddenly found himself frozen in mid-air, unable to move, not while Ginyu, sensing the opportunity, raised his arms and began to glow.    Under different circumstances, Luffa might have found it surreal to watch her own body glowing this way, but she couldn't afford to think about that, not until she was at last where she needed to be...

Directly between Ginyu and Goku, so that the body-changing technique would strike her instead of Ginyu's intended target.  

The results were nearly instantaneous, though Luffa did notice a horrified look in her own eyes when Ginyu realized his technique was about to misfire.   In the next moment, she was herself again, and Captain Ginyu floated between the two Saiyans, once more in the purple man's body.  

"Wh-what's going on?!" Goku asked, his body still paralyzed by Guldo's power.    

"No!" Ginyu shouted.   "How can this be?!"

"I'll explain later, Kakarot," Luffa said, surprised by the sound of her own voice.    She raised her fingers, and began charging her ki to attack.    Everything felt so familiar, so right, although she still had only a fraction of her former strength.    "First, I need to kill this bastard off before he gets any more bright ideas.     Say, goodbye, Captain.   I'll be sending Guldo to join y--"

But before she could attack, she found herself overcome by a wave of exhaustion.    She had expected to find a certain level of ki in her own body, but what she hadn't considered was the damage her body had taken from Ginyu using it to fight Goku.   For that matter, Luffa had also forgotten the damage she had sustained against Recoome and Guldo earlier in the mission.     When the Time Patrol had recalled her to base on her first botched attempt, Chronoa had healed those wounds.   But now that Luffa had returned to try again, it seemed that some of that damage was restored.    It was no wonder that Ginyu had performed so poorly in Luffa's body.   Even if he had known how to use it to its fullest, Goku was fresh.    

Had Luffa been prepared for this fatigue, she might have still been able to gather the power needed to kill Captain Ginyu as she had planned.   But she wasn't ready, and so she had gathered her ki much faster than she should have, and the result left her dazed and weakened.   She began to sink to the ground, like a leaf falling from a tree.     She had fully expected to finish the Ginyu Force off for good, but now it was all she could do to slow her descent.    

Even before she reached the ground, Ginyu's laughter told her what would happen next.    She tried to call out to Goku, to warn him of what would happen, but she knew there was nothing he could do.    Guldo's power would keep him frozen in place until the deed was done.    

At least history was back on course!   This was what Luffa told herself as she tried to force herself to stay conscious.   Galling as it was, Ginyu was supposed to switch bodies with Goku, and no one else, and supposedly, Goku and the others could resolve that problem themselves.    The only trouble was that Guldo was still in the picture, and Luffa was reasonably sure Guldo was supposed to be dead by now.  

"Game over, monkey."  

She suddenly noticed Guldo looming over her, and before she could defend herself he kicked her with those stubby legs of his.    His eyes still burned red, and his body still roiled with the purple aura of the enemy's magic.   It seemed that he wasn't going to stop until Luffa was dead, which suited her just fine.     If she could just keep Guldo occupied, then her mission could still succeed, and this would all be over.  

It was getting easier to concentrate now, but she still wasn't sure if Guldo had gotten stronger, or if she was still weak.    As she tumbled across the Namekian plains, her tattered yellow clothes staining blue from the alien grass, Guldo gave chase, punching and kicking her before she could ever come to a stop.    In the distance, she could sense Goku and Ginyu leaving, no doubt heading back to Frieza's ship.    Guldo could still interfere in their battle, and so she decided not to fight back.    She wasn't sure if she was in any shape to defeat him, but she could definitely keep him occupied for a while longer.  

"Miserable little savage!" Guldo growled.    It seemed like all he could say now were these spiteful names and racial epithets.    The enemy had amplified his hatred until there was nothing else for him to express.    Luffa ignored his words as she covered her face to block his next strike.  

She wasn't sure how to make sense of it.    During these missions, her powers seemed to grow whenever someone hit her, but Goku had battered her senseless while Captain Ginyu had been in possession of her body, and she didn't seem to gain anything from it.   And yet, Guldo's attacks seemed to be getting her fired up again.    

"Saiyan germ!" Guldo screeched as he punted Luffa another few hundred meters.   By now, she was fed up with stalling him, but she was having trouble keeping up with his movements.    He seemed to blink in and out of existence for a moment, and she couldn't anticipate where he would be next.    

"You're not like Chiaotzu at all," Luffa muttered as she flew high into the air.    If she couldn't intercept his next kick, she could avoid him completely and see how he reacted.    "When I fought him he was possessed like you are now, there was still a decent man underneath, clawing and scratching to get out.   But you!   You're just a pathetic wretch, and that dark energy just makes it that much more obvious."

He was gone.    Luffa played a hunch and turned herself to face the sky, where she found Guldo preparing another psychic attack.    She fired a ki blast, but he vanished again before it could connect.    

"Golden Duster," Luffa grumbled.   This technique was something she had developed long ago, useful for tracking stubborn targets who were better at hiding than fighting.    The problem was that its range was limited.   As the Legendary Super Saiyan, Luffa could have covered large swaths of the Namekian surface with it.   In her present condition, the best she could do was to surround herself in a misty field of ki globules.   Guldo would have to pass through it in order to attack her, and she would sense the disturbance in the field, even if she couldn't detect him directly.  

Only, it didn't work the way she had planned.   Guldo suddenly struck her, and she sensed the hole he had made in her defenses, but it all happened instantaneously.   As she crashed into the Namekian turf, she wondered if Guldo had super-speed abilities, but that didn't make sense.   Burter had claimed to be the fastest of the Ginyu Force, and she had managed to outrun him with little trouble.    If Guldo was even faster, Luffa suspected that Burter wouldn't have had much to brag about.    There had to be more to his secret than mere speed.

"Whatever this is, you can't keep it up for very long," Luffa said as she gathered herself up from the ground.    "And it doesn't make you any stronger; it just gives you a free shot.   Then you have to reset before you can do it again.    So let's make the most of that time, shall we?"

She shot straight up into the air, flying as fast as she could.   Luffa wasn't sure if Guldo's strange abilities would help him catch up, but she figured she couldn't go wrong by moving in one direction.    As she ascended, she charged her ki and began firing wild shots down to the surface below.    None of them would be strong enough to destroy Namek entirely, but the bombardment would scorch the land directly beneath her, and Guldo would have to attack or flee if he wanted to avoid taking a hit.    And with the dark energy controlling his thoughts, Luffa was sure that Guldo wouldn't run away.    

As expected, Guldo's pudgy green form came rising up to meet her, vanishing every few seconds and reappearing ever closer.    Luffa continued firing ki blasts in her wake as she flew higher and higher.    Without knowing what Guldo's power was, her only chance was to test it to find its limits.   He continued to chase her into the air, following her no matter how high into the sky she climbed.  And then, just when he was close enough to strike...

Guldo's fist reached Luffa's face, but she didn't even feel the impact.   He had managed to blink ahead just enough to break through her defenses, but there was no force behind his punches.   And then Guldo started gasping for breath.    

"K-kill you!" he sputtered, as Luffa continued to back away.    They were high enough in the air that the stars were visible in the green sky.  

"So that's it," Luffa said.    "Whatever you're doing, you have to hold your breath to make it work.   And maybe you've got a good handle on it at sea level, but not when the air's thin and you need to move quickly."

She threw a kick, and he managed to hold his breath long enough to blink out of the way, but she was ready for him, and fired a ki blast when he reappeared.    Then she grabbed him by the collar of his armor and punched him in the gut to make it even harder for him to breathe.  

"It's almost like you can stop time.   Is that it?   I didn't even know that was a thing.   If you weren't such a weakling, you might actually be pretty dangerous.    No, you're not a weakling.   You're a lot stronger than Nappa and Raditz were.    The problem is you've got no ambition.    Ginyu only keeps you around so you can help him use his own ability.   No one's interested in using you for anything but support.   It's pitiful, really.   Such a waste of talent."

To his credit, Guldo continued to struggle, but he was powerless at this altitude.    

"Even if you can stop time, or just immobilize me, it won't do you any good while I'm holding on to you like this," Luffa said.    "Now let's just see what's in that pea brain of yours..."

She placed her free hand on his face, and found the texture of his skin revolting, like the rind of a rotten fruit.     She hoped that Guldo had some memory of the one who had enchanted him, but instead she only found a torrent of rage and hatred, mostly aimed at Vegeta for insulting him, and at herself for humiliating him.  

"You don't smell that bad," Luffa grumbled.    "I knew Vegeta was a spoiled brat, but this is ridiculous.   Wait..."

There was no recollection of Guldo falling under the enemy's spell.   He had been alone on Frieza's ship when it happened, but Guldo did remember seeing the rest of Frieza's crew falling under the same spell, one by one, until the entire crew followed him into battle.   And that was when Luffa finally realized...

"The enemy must still be here!" she gasped.    "Near Frieza's ship!"

She killed Guldo as quickly as she could and reached out with her senses to find Goku and Vegeta's power signatures.    They would be heading for Frieza's ship as well, and may have already arrived.   And perhaps Captain Ginyu was a threat they could handle, but if the Time Patrol's mysterious enemy was still on Namek, still influencing other fighters, then she had badly miscalculated Guldo's purpose.    Luffa had assumed the enemy had sent Guldo to neutralize her, but he was probably nothing more than a diversion.

After what seemed like an eternity, Luffa finally reached the ship, where she found Goku lying defeated on the ground, and the purple man's body battling desperately against Vegeta.    Krillin and Gohan were there as well, and the seven Namekian Dragon Balls lay on a patch of upturned soil near the entrance ramp of the ship.    She had been eager to join the fray, except she had no idea which of these fighters was Captain Ginyu.   At last, she settled on checking Goku's body first, since he would be the easiest to avoid if he were Ginyu waiting for an opportunity.    

"You've looked better, Kakarot," Luffa said as she alighted next to him.  

"Heh.  Dunno why you guys keep callin' me that name," Goku said.    

Up close, Goku looked even worse than she had feared, but at least he had gotten his own body back, and he seemed to be in high spirits.    

"Ginyu," she asked.    "Which one is he?"  

"He... he's in his own body again," Goku said.    "But he's gonna try to switch with Vegeta, and Vegeta's got no idea--"

"Typical," Luffa scoffed.   "If that royalist coward hadn't cut and run earlier, he'd know all about Ginyu's ability by now.   Instead, he's completely fresh, and ready to walk right into a trap.    Well, I'll just head up there and--"

"No, wait!" Goku pleaded.    "You're hurt too!  If you try to get between them now, you might only make things worse!"

"You've got a better idea?" Luffa demanded.   As much as Vegeta disgusted her, she could at least understand him.   Goku was difficult to read.  

Mostly, she found him rather pathetic.   Raised among Earthlings, Goku seemed to lack the killer instinct that defined Saiyans.    He appeared to have plenty of courage, and his power had developed impressively over a short time, but there was still something missing about him, something she couldn't quite figure out.     As Luffa waited for him to answer, she noticed him suddenly looking at a frog that had burrowed up from the ground beside him.    Before she could ask, Goku grabbed the frog in his hand, and then tossed it into the air.

"What the hell are you d--?" Luffa started to ask.    And then she saw Ginyu use his technique, and she got her answer.  

Vegeta remained transfixed in midair, completely confused by what had just happened.   Both the frog and the purple man fell to the ground.    The purple man landed on his hands and feet, looked around with a blank expression, and croaked.    Then he hopped away from the ship, passing Luffa and Goku without even noticing them.    

"It worked!" Goku said with a stifled groan.   Luffa suspected that throwing the frog had aggravated his injuries.   Krillin and Gohan, also very confused, rushed to Goku's side, and helped him up.    

"What happened to Ginyu?!" Vegeta demanded.    He landed nearby, and glared in the direction the purple man had hopped away.

"Wrong way," Luffa replied.  "If you want Ginyu, he's right over there."  She pointed at the small blue frog that Goku had tossed into the air.    The frog was trying to hop away to safety, but something about its movements seemed very unnatural, like it wasn't sure how to be a frog, and it was trying a little too hard.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding," Vegeta growled.  

"You saw how he used Kakarot's body, idiot!" Luffa shouted.   "Ginyu was going to do the same thing to you if Kakarot hadn't tossed that frog in the way."

"Then he's helpless," Vegeta said with a malicious smile.   "Well that suits me just fine..."

"Don't be a fool!" Luffa warned him.   "He's smaller now, but he might still have that bodyswapping power.   If you're not careful, you'll be the one catching flies.   Then again, those antennae would be an improvement for you, Vegeta...  Go ahead and fight him, if you dare."

Vegeta crossed his arms and turned his back on Luffa and the frog.    "Lucky for you, woman, I have more pressing business than listening to your feeble japes.   I'll deal with you after I've settled with Kakarot..."

With that, he walked over to speak with the others.   Luffa continued to watch the frog-Ginyu as he hopped away.    After everything else she had endured, this felt anticlimactic.  She was sure the enemy was still lurking somewhere nearby, and if Ginyu was still a potential threat, then they might use him to attack them once more.     She considered killing the frog and the purple man's body, if only to eliminate any loose ends, but then she noticed the frog glancing to one side, as though something had caught Ginyu's attention.  

Luffa sensed nothing in that direction.    If there was a strong ki signature, it was carefully hidden.    Curious, she stared into the distance, trying to find whatever Ginyu had seen.   It occurred to her that Namekian frogs might have possessed keener senses than she understood.    And then she spotted it: a pair of humanoid figures in the distance, watching from the top of a tall, narrow hill.    

She looked back for a moment, and saw the others helping Goku into the spaceship.    Satisfied that nothing would happen to them, Luffa took flight, heading directly for the hill.    

When she arrived, there was no one in sight.   Luffa had expected to find a spaceship, or a time machine, or some other vehicle or base.    As she examined the terrain at the base of the hill, she heard footsteps, and suddenly, she could sense their ki.

A woman's voice made a bemused chuckle, and Luffa turned to find her stepping out from behind the hill.    

"You're pretty sharp," the woman said.   She had pale blue skin, and pointed ears.   Luffa almost wondered if she was a different strain of Namekian, except all the Namekians she had met were bald, with two antennae on their foreheads.    This woman had a head of white hair, and she was dressed head-to-toe in a skin-tight red-and-black costume.    Something like a skirt flared out from the waist of her suit, and she held a spear in her left hand.

"It must have been you snooping around," the woman continued.   "I hope you aren't thinking of interfering.   That would be a mistake."  

Luffa didn't understand.   She had already interfered, hadn't she?    This woman was the Time Patrol's enemy, wasn't she?    The one who had tried to alter history, except Luffa had just set things right.    It seemed like this woman had a completely different plan altogether.   Could the changes in history simply be a means to an end?

"A costly mistake," added a man who now stepped out to join the woman.    He appeared to be the male of the same species, whatever that species was.   He was considerably taller than the woman, and his red-and-black costume included a white chestplate with a bronze bar that looped around the back of his neck.  

"I will eliminate you here and now," he declared in a somber, dispassionate voice.    His words were hostile, but he made them sound like a bored weather report.    Luffa wondered if he was some sort of machine, but before she could ask, he began to raise his ki, and a large red aura flared up around him.    

"Shall I proceed, Towa?" he asked, never taking his eyes off Luffa.  

"Very eager today, aren't you, Mira?" Towa replied with a wry smile.   "All right, I'll let you have your fun.   Killing this Saiyan will make a decent test of your abilities."  

Mira stepped towards Luffa with cold menace in his eyes.    Luffa stood her ground, and smiled.  

NEXT: Luffa vs. Mira

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Thirty-Four

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff and Smut.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

You woke up a groggy mess the next morning. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to walk around all day shopping when your legs still felt like jello. He said that was him going on easy on you. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious as to how Harry usually fucked someone. You also wondered if he ever fucked someone he was in love with before. The way he grabbed your hand last night as he went deeper inside suggested that maybe he hadn’t. You looked over to the bathroom. A shower would surely bring you back from the dead. Your mind raced to fucking Harry in the shower, like full on. He’d probably lift you up and press you against the tile. You smiled at the thought of doing it all over your apartment when you got back.

When you were in college, you fucked all the time. You were constantly hooking up. Sometimes with the same guys, or maybe you’d meet someone new at a party. You liked having sex, it always made you feel powerful. You enjoyed being on top and doing the majority of the work, with college guys that was the only way to get what you were really after. The boys didn’t know what to do to make you feel good. You imagine once you gain your full confidence back, you and Harry would probably fight for dominance quite a bit. You welcomed the challenge.

Harry rolls over, almost crushing you. He places light kisses on your cheek, making you giggle. His eyes flutter open, and he smiles big at you.

“How’s my ba-“ You push on his chest to roll on top of him. You hide your face in the crook of his neck. “Feelin’ a little shy?” You nod your head yes. He chuckles. He really does think you’re the cutest thing in the world. “How ‘bout a bath this mornin’, hm?” You look up at him and smile. “Stay here, I’ll go set it up.” He kisses your hairline, and gets up.

You engulf yourself in the blankets, taking in his full scent. Nothing smelled better than Harry, absolutely nothing. He comes back several minutes later to let you know the bath was all set. You walk in with him and see he’s lit some candles. You take a minute to brush your teeth before you get in. You give him a fresh, minty kiss. He gets in first, and then you. You lean right up against him and sit in a comfortable silence as he holds you.

“How are you feelin’ this mornin’?” Someone had to break the silence.

“Alright.” You yawn, and press your head further into his shoulder.

“Just alright?”

“I feel like I’m floating.” You feel his smirk against your head.

“What was your favorite part?”

“Being as close as we possibly could be.” You turn to look at him and grin. “On a less sappy note, I think you’re the only guy ever to hit me like that, it felt incredible.” He tilts your head up to kiss you. “What was your favorite part?”

“Same as you, just really liked bein’ so close to you.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “A less sappy thing would definitely be finally feelin’ how tight you are around me.” You cheeks flush.

“Maybe it’s not that I’m tight, maybe it’s just that your dick is big. Ever think of that?” You giggle.

“Let’s go with both.”

After your bath, Harry makes you both some coffee while you put on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. You opt for sneakers today to give your feat a rest. You put a braid in your hair and throw the rest of it up into a ponytail. Harry has a pair of loose fitting jeans on and a sweatshirt as well. He hands you the coffee.

“Mm, thank you.” You take a sip and smile at him. You think back to last night and blush.

“You excited to do some shoppin’?”

“Yes!”

“Your hair looks nice like that by the way. Don’t think I’ve ever seen ya braid it like that.”

“Thanks babe.” You get up and kiss him on the cheek.

“You really like the earrings?” He twists one between his fingers lightly.

“I love them. Never taking them out.”

You and Harry set out to the shops. You start out at a few clothing stores. He takes note of the things that catch your eyes. You talk about wanting to get small things for the girls since they’re watching your place. You end up buying a few things here and there, and Harry helps you carry the bags.

“How ‘bout this place?” You look up and see it’s a jewelry store. “I’ve gotten some of m’rings here, I’d like to see if they have anythin’ new.”

“Sounds good to me.”

You both walk in, a man greets the both of you. Harry walks around. His eyebrows are furrowed until his entire face lights up.

“Babe, look at this one.” He waves you over. “It would look good on m’pinky, don’t you think?”

“Try it on, let’s see.” A man takes the ring out of the case for Harry to try on. He slides it onto his finger, and holds his hand out for you. “Oh, I like that on you. You should definitely get it.”

“You don’t think it clashes too much with the others?”

“Since when do you care about things clashing? It would look odd if it didn’t.”

“True.” He looks at the man behind the counter. “Alright, I’d like to get this please.”

As Harry goes over the paperwork for the ring with the man, you continue to browse. Everything was so beautiful. Every single price tag made you want to vomit, but it was still nice to look. You find yourself looking at diamond rings. You scrunch your face at some of them, thinking a few of the diamond shapes were ugly. You hated the way large diamonds looked on thin bands. You much preferred a thick band with a modest stone. You also preferred a square shape to a round or oval. Harry turns around to see what you’re up to while he waits for the man to return with his ring. He desperately wants to know which ring has made your face light up the way it has. He walks over to you.

“See anythin’ ya like?” He startles you.

“Hm? No, just looking over everything.” He watches your eyes carefully, and follows them to the ring with a thick band and square diamond. He makes a mental note. “What’s the status on your ring?”

“They’re just polishin’ it up f’me.”

“Was it expensive?”

“Sort of, but he cut me a deal since I shop here a lot. If there’s anythin’ that catches your eye don’t be afraid to tell me.”

“You are not buying me anymore jewelry.” You walk away from him, moving on to look at some of the necklaces.

“This one’s cool.” You scrunch your face.

“Too out there for me. I’m a little plainer when it comes to jewelry, I don’t like things that stand out too much, on me of course.” You see one that would almost look good on Harry. “This would look nice on you.” You show it to him.

“You know I used to wear necklaces all the time.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I have a cross I used to wear a lot, stopped for some reason. I was afraid of it gettin’ dirty on my shoots. Or worse, losing it while I was travelin’. Might start wearin’ it again though.” Harry’s eyes scan over the various pearl necklaces. “Had a pearl necklace I absolutely adored, but I had to sell it a while back to buy some equipment. Broke my heart.” You make a mental note to buy him pearls for his birthday in a couple of months. “Is that weird?”

“Not at all! You know I love your style baby.”

“Sir?” The man says to Harry. “Your ring is ready.”

Harry smiles big and takes it out of the box to put it on his pinky. He takes your hand in his, and you leave the store.

You duck in and out of a few more stores, and decide to take a break at a café for lunch. You get your food to go so you can sit in a park to eat. It was cold out, but you wanted to stay outside.

“Where are we going tonight, Harry?”

“Mitch and Sarah have this club they like to go to. It’s nice.”

“Do people do cocaine there too?” You giggle.

“Love, any party after two in the mornin’, there’s gonna be cocaine.” He laughs.

“I can’t get over the architecture out here, it’s so cool.”

“I used to feel the same way when I first started exploring Boston.”

“Can I ask why you chose such a small city to stay in? Why not New York, or Chicago, or even somewhere out in California?”

“Don’t know.” He shrugs. “It mostly had to do with how expensive the schools I was lookin’ at were.”

“There weren’t any colleges here you wanted to go to?”

“There a few I applied to. But the more I looked into the various international programs other schools had I figured it would be cool to go somewhere I had never been before. I remember my mum was pissed because the first summer after my freshman year I didn’t come home until the middle of July.”

“Why’s that?”

“Niall, Louis, and I took a cross country road trip. We wanted to see it all. It was so much fun.” He smiles at the memory. “We all just really enjoyed Boston. I honestly think New York would’ve been too busy for me. I like how easily you can get to the suburbs, and even when the traffic’s bad, the drive to where you’re goin’ isn’t long.”

“It really is a great city. When I was a kid I always wondered what people did to be able to live there.”

“How come you stayed in Massachusetts? You didn’t want to explore?”

“I actually spent a semester abroad in L.A., it was incredible. I drove out the beach every weekend.”

“What year did you do that?”

“It was my second semester sophomore year. Rachel and I got accepted into the same program, so we went together.”

“I imagine there were many shenanigans.” You scoff.

“God, you have no idea.” You take a bite of your sandwich. “Since we all lived relatively close, over most winter breaks we would try to get together for a weekend trip to New York, or something fun like that. See a show and all that.” You take a sip of your drink. “I think same as you, those larger cities are just too busy. Plus, even though my family drives me nuts, it would be hard to be so far away. I don’t know how you do it.”

“It just makes the visits better. We hardly ever argue about anythin’ cause we don’t wanna waste the little time we have.” Harry sips on his drink. “My mum gets it, she raised Gem and I to be pretty independent spirits. She was understanding about us wanting to fly the coop, so to speak.”

“I had lived with my dad after my parents split, when I was home on breaks from school.” Harry raises an eyebrow at you. “I know, super confusing. But honestly, it was the best option for me at the time. My mom moved out my senior year of high school, and with so much change going on, I needed something to stay constant. I didn’t want to pack up my room or leave my side of town. Bridget moved in with my mom. She was only supposed to stay for six months.” You roll your eyes. “Anyways, I was so grateful that I started applying for jobs early, because I got an interview with where I work now at like the end of April. There was an alum that worked there at the time that I had connected with. He helped coach me through the interview process. After like three rounds of interviews, they took me on. I actually started out in their social media department, that’s how I met Niall because he was there too.” Harry nods along. “That’s a story for a different time.” You giggle. “Anyways, my dad was happy I had gotten such a great job, but he couldn’t wrap his had around the fact that I’d rather go live with Rachel and Sarah and pay rent, then live for free at home and commute.”

“Commuting from your dad’s house would’ve been so stressful.”

“No kidding! I would’ve had to get up even earlier to catch the T. He yelled at me almost every day for two weeks, and I had finally had enough. I was like if you think this is what’s going to keep me here, you’re crazy. I tried not to get too mad at him because I understood at the end of the day his youngest kid was moving out. I thought I did pretty well for myself.”

“You certainly do. You should be proud of how fast you’ve been able to move up.”

“I know you like the benefits your work has, but do you think you’ll ever run your own business full time at any point?”

“I don’t know, honestly. I like the idea of continuing to build my own brand, maybe even lease my own photo studio…but it’s such a difficult business. You’re either busy all the time or not at all, there’s little in between. At lease with the magazine, there’s always a steady paycheck comin’ in.”

“Well, if you do ever lease your own space I know someone in marketing that can really help you build your brand.” You wink at him. He puts his arm around you, and pulls you close to him.

“I hate to say this, but I think I could use a nap.”

“Yeah, pretty tired myself. Let’s head back.”

//

After a quick power nap, you and Harry get ready to meet Mitch and Sarah. You all decided to have dinner together before heading to the club. You were all having fun, drinking and dancing a bit. You didn’t want to go too crazy because you didn’t want to be hungover for your flight tomorrow afternoon.

“Harry?! Is that you?!” Harry’s face as pale as a ghost. And you swear you heard Mitch say oh fuck. Some random girl attached herself to Harry’s body, almost pushing you out of the way. “I told you girls it was ‘im!” A few more girls gather around. “How ya been Styles?” Her accent was thicker than his.

“Um…good.” He takes a step back from the girl.

“It’s been ages! How long ya in town for?”

“I, we leave tomorrow.” He hooks his arm around your waist and the girl shoots daggers at you. “Just home for Christmas.”

“Oh, I see. And who’s this then?” You go to speak, but Harry speaks before you.

“My girlfriend, obviously.” His grip on you tightens.

“She can’t be your girlfriend, you don’t do girlfriends remember?” She says laughing. “At least that’s what yeh told me, and every other girl you’ve fucked in London.”

“Alright, Melissa, that’s enough.” Sarah says stepping in. “What did you do, stalk us? I know you saw my Instagram story. I’m about ready to block you.”

“A girl can’t come to the club with her friends anymore?”

“Interesting how you made sure to be here when you knew Harry would be here.” Mitch says. She looks back at you.

“Fine, I’ll leave yeh all alone. He’s gonna break yeh heart honey, trust me. This man is incapable of anythin’ other than a good fuck.”

Melissa and her friends walk away. He waits until she’s completely out of view before letting go of you.

“I am so sorry about that.” He says to you.

“I’m blockin’ her right now. Didn’t think she still followed me. Sorry ‘bout that, H.” There’s that nickname again.

“You couldn’t have known.”

“So was that just like an ex-girlfriend or something?”

“Sort of. She was just a summer fling, nothin’ more, and I made that clear. It was years ago, but she stayed hung up on me. She’s text me all the time when she knew I’d be home.”

“And stupid you would continue to hook up with her.” Mitch says.

“I was like twenty-years old, fuck off.” He looks back at you. “I really am sorry, I-“

“Harry, it’s okay. It was before we knew each other. Your past is your past.” You shrug.

You genuinely weren’t mad. You have zero control over who Harry used to date or hook up with. And you could tell he was embarrassed by having one of his skeletons come out of the closet, you weren’t going to make him feel bad.

“Let’s not let it ruin our good time, hm?” You hug him and kiss him on the cheek.

The four of you spend the rest of the night uninterrupted, which everyone greatly appreciated.

//

“What time’s our flight tomorrow again?” You ask in the cab back to Harry’s flat.

“It’s late, like 11PM, I did that so by the time we get home it’ll be like we’re just goin’ t’bed early. Less jetlag.”

“Oh, so we have a whole ‘nother day to like explore?”

“Yeah.” He smiles. “Anythin’ in particular you feel like doin’?”

“Gosh, I don’t know. We went to all the big touristy sites. I wouldn’t mind going back to the London Eye, the view was just so spectacular.”

“We can do whatever you want, angel.” He leans closer to you and giggle.

You get up inside the flat, and get ready for bed. You each do your nightly routines, and get into bed. You had never felt closer to Harry. You snuggle up close to him. He takes his book and his glasses out.

“Know it’s late, but do you mind if I read for a bit?”

“Not at all! Do you wanna read to me?” He chuckles.

“You’d be thoroughly confused, I’m already halfway.”

“Don’t care.” You yawn. “I’ll end up falling asleep anyways. Just wanna listen to your voice.”

“Alright love.”

Harry reads out loud from his romance novel, and the sound of his voice is quite soothing. Your eyes feel droopy, and you soon drift off. He stops reading when he hears your light snores. He turns the light off, and slouches a bit to get comfortable, careful not to wake you.

//

The next morning you wake up on your back with Harry’s face against your chest. Your body was feeling much better, inside and out. You run your hand through his soft curls, and watch as his eyes flutter awake. He nuzzles into you, not quite ready to face the morning sun.

“Mornin’, love.”

“Good morning.” You bite your bottom lip. You had honestly forgotten how much you enjoyed morning sex. It was lazy and sloppy, and a perfect way to wake up. You just weren’t sure how to initiate since Harry was usually the one to suggest something. “Um…how’d you sleep?”

“Good. You?”

“Good.” You have a thought to maybe turn over so he’d be forced to spoon you, but when he was like this, you were trapped. He hears your heart start to beat faster, and leans his head up to look at you.

“You okay?”

“Mhm, yeah.” You smile at him. You knew he’d love to just hear you say it. But you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction. “Do you…um, you know, feel like giving it another go?” Both of his eyebrows raise.

“Feelin’ a bit puckish this mornin’ are we?” You nod your head yes. “Right, well, let’s just go ahead and take care of that shall we?” You giggle as he fully gets on top of you.

Harry’s hand dips down between your legs to rub lightly on your slit, teasing you only slightly to get you wet. You reach between the two of you to grip his hardening cock. You pump him slowly as he groans into your neck.

“Harry?”

“Mm?”

“Could I…get on top of you this time?” He props himself up to look at you.

“You don’t think that’ll hurt?”

“Not if you let me do it.” He knows you mean it won’t hurt if he just lets you do all the work.

“Alright.”

He rolls over and waits for you to get on top of him. You grip him again, lining up your center with his tip. You slowly sink down on top of him. You both let out a moan. You sit there a moment, getting used to him.

“Mother of fuck.” You say under your breath. He was just so big.

You lean forward slightly to grip the headboard. Harry thought you looked heavenly from this angle. You slowly lift yourself up, and slide back down him. His hands grip your hips, fingers imprinting into your skin. You eventually find a rhythm, and bounce up and down slowly on his cock. It was killing him not to move, but he was so lost in the expression on your face; pure bliss. You were grinding against him in just the right spot. He takes one of his hands to rub your clit, causing you to throw your head back.

You continue to grind against him slowly, your hands drift down to his shoulders, and you sink your nails in. He could feel your body tensing up the way it always did when you were close. You were moaning, pretty loud. You wouldn’t tell him this, but an orgasm from this angle was like no other.

“Baby, can I please move a bit, you’re killin’ me.”

“Inna second, oh shiiiiiiiittt.” You have a tranquil release, and pause your movements to catch your breath. “Okay.” You lean down on him, and wrap your arms around his shoulders. His hands slide down to your ass to grip you. “Proceed, BUT be careful, please.”

“Don’t worry, I gotcha.”

Harry’s hips thrust up inside you, and it feels absolutely amazing. His pace isn’t quite as slow as the one you were taking, but it wasn’t crazy fast either. You could feel his nails digging into your butt, and just the intense need he has for you. You use your hands to push yourself up. A confidence takes over you since everything is feeling good. You bounce on him while he thrusts up into you, both getting in sync.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy like this.” One of his hands slides up your body, reaching your cheek. You turn your face to kiss his palm.

You take his hand in yours and raise his fingers to your mouth. You kiss his index and middle finger before taking them into your mouth. You close your eyes and suck on them. Harry’s eyes nearly pop out of his head and his jaw drops. Who were you right now? You take his fingers out of your mouth. He grips the back of your neck, and pulls you down to him. His tongue goes into your mouth as his hands grip your hips to rock you faster on him.

“Fuck, Harry.” His dick is hitting that special spot inside. You sink your teeth into his neck, causing a growl to come from his lips.

“M’gonna come babe.”

You both were panting. Your back arches as you feel his hot come shoot up inside you at the same time your release comes. You collapse on top of him, you were exhausted having not ridden a dick in quite some time. He moves the hair that’s plastered to your forehead away, and kisses your hairline. You slightly lift up so he slip out of you, and you feel his come leak out of you. You feel a slight embarrassment since you were resting on one of his thighs. He was bound to feel it.

“You’re incredible.” He says, almost breathless. You look up at him. “I mean, just watching you go to town like that…” He runs a hand through his hair and looks down at you. “And then when you su-“

“Harry.” You cover his mouth with your hand, and hide your face in his chest. “Please, it’s too embarrassing.” He chuckles and rubs your back.

“Nothin’ to be embarrassed about.”

“I don’t even know why I did that…” You groan.

“It really turned me on, so please don’t second guess yourself.” He kisses the top of your head. “Sometimes when you’re in the heat of the moment, you just do things. Happens to me too.” You lean up and kiss him. “You did really well, took all of me no problem.”

“Right.” You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your vagina was throbbing. It was going to take you a while to get used to his size. Length is one thing, but the girth Harry had was just so thick.

“Do you feel safer on top?”

“I don’t know exactly.”

“Well, you didn’t get triggered.”

“I think it’s sort of like when we were just touching each other. Some things trigger and others don’t. I just happened to be fine this morning, and I’m thankful. Felt so good.”

“I’d love to lay in bed with you all day, but I don’t wanna waste our last day…”

“Me either. Let’s go get cleaned up. Then we can pack up, and enjoy the rest of the day.”

You get off of Harry, and step to get off the bed. You catch the blankets the wrong way, and end up slipping, and falling to your hands and knees.

“Shit!” Harry starts laughing. “This isn’t because of you, I slipped.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, love.”

//

You and Harry did some more sightseeing, and took a ton more pictures. You were feeling really clingy to him, so your hand never left his. He liked that you were being so affectionate. You could be so reserved in public sometimes. He liked putting your relationship on display.

“Wanna drive us back to the flat?”

“Really?!”

“Promised ya didn’t I?”

Harry hands you the keys, and you get it in. You drive slowly at first and laugh as you start to get the hang of it. He takes a video of you driving on your phone because he knows you’ll want to show everyone later.

“Expertly done.” He says as you pull into his flat.

You both feel sort of sad to be packing everything else up. But it’ll be nice to get home, and have a few more days off together. You and Harry plan to get him all moved in.

The ride to the airport is quiet, but comfortable. It was late, and you were both tired. Right now you were thankful your tickets were first class. You couldn’t wait to get cozy with Harry in the large seats. You drape your blankets over the both of you, and snuggle into his chest. This trip was better than you both ever could’ve expected.

[somecunttookmyurl]

gonna need you to elaborate on those 'famous people you've met' tags, queen. like what. what is your life.

god sorry this has probably been here all day but i’ve been belting out chicago songs all morning (the musical not the band) @scimmymunkeh can verify that my life, especially from like 2009-2014 (before i moved to scotland) was like. so weird.

in my misspent youth i travelled around the UK and europe seeing The Horrors just like. so many times. they were cheap enough to follow around on tour and i like travelling so that’s what i did. and i’m sufficiently not weird (lmao, i know right) as a person that i got to know them decently well (mostly rhys, tbf) so a some of it happened from that. side note - this actually gained me an honest to god real life stalker from tumblr who also lived in london and would like... see me out at the weekend and then send me anons about what i was doing? very weird time. anyway.

alex turner & miles kane - would go to cave club (a night ran primarily by rhys monthly) sometimes and because i am, again, not A Weirdo i’d be chilling with them. mostly miles, bc alex is pretty shy actually. but for some reason i truly do not know like don’t ask i have no idea every time miles and i got drunk we’d make plans to... buy... a pig? and raise it together? i think we were going to call it penny or peggy or something idk. quite what our plans were for co-parenting a FUCKING PIG in LONDON when we didn’t even live together were but. we really wanted to get a pig for some reason. technically i’ve also met alexa chung (this was WAY BACK when she was still dating alex) but she was deeply sus of any woman in his vicinity so just. left that one alone.

peaches geldof - was dating/later married a guy called thomas who was in a band called S.C.U.M. that rhys’ little brother was in. due to them being around all the time (also they were good listen to them) thomas and i knew each other. we weren’t friends or anything - mostly i was pals with sammy seven - but knew each other to talk to each other. something peaches apparently had a massive problem with because every time she saw me she’d shoot daggers at me across the room like oh my GOD i cannot express enough that i’m not interested in tom. chill. anyway she’s dead now.

i forgot about bobby gilespie (primal scream) and lou hayter (new young pony club) who also used to hang out at the cave.

adam ant - the first time i met him was at a 60s night. like literally an event called ‘le beat bespoke’. he was just... there? for some reason? i dunno. had a drink and a smoke with him. nice man. LITERALLY 2 weeks later on my actual 20th birthday i was at a night called ‘stay beautiful’ which was a heavily-manics-inspired regular event ran by music journalist simon price... adam ant turned up and did a ranom guerilla performance. which??? anyway he recognised me and we hung out for a bit again. he was VERY manic and off his meds at the time (adam ant is bipolar). invited me back to his hotel, nudge nudge wink, but uh. did not do that. as funny as “i boned adam ant once” would be as a story in my life............... no. dude’s old enough to be my dad. haven’t seen him since, just weird that it happened twice so close together in a city of 9 million people.

damon albarn - there was a very bizarre period of maybe 3-4 months where every time i went out i bumped into damon. like literally. every event i attended he was there. again, city of 9 million people, and we lived on opposite sides of it. permanently drunk, and asked me for a lighter every single time he saw me even though (at the time) i wasn’t smoking. at one point i bumped into him at waterloo train station like “okay that’s it i have to leave the city. i can never go outside again. this is getting fucking weird”. haven’t seen him since, either. on a related note i’ve met paul simeon as well.

richard oakes (suede) - saw suede a bunch of times and as one of the few people who love and appreciate richard oakes i always spoke to him and he was really excited about it and would remember the smallest details. had a backstage pass to a show in paris once. richard also has a side project called artmagic that i’ve seen and no matter how many years pass, he still recognises me and will run over like an excited puppy. met his parents twice, who are lovely people.

simon gilbert (suede) - similar but less dramatic, but will add fans on personal facebook if he’s seen you often enough bc he’s a lovely guy.

obviously i’ve also hung out with the rest of suede but didn’t interact with them as much. it’s mostly me x richard brotp 4eva.

sean patrick flanery (actor, boondock saints/mongolian death worm) - i made a joke about his hair being stuck in the 90s on twitter once and he’s followed me ever since which is at this point LITERALLY YEARS i really don’t understand.

[atruththatyoudeny]

Monthly Reads | January 2020

Happy 28th! Time for some fic rec! Here are all the fics I read and loved this month. As always, all the love for the authors in this fandom ♥

✦ Foolishly Laying Our Hearts On The Table | runaway_train | friends to lovers - marriage proposal - pining - fluff - light angst - 11k “You think Harry wants that?” “Dunno. Maybe. Wanna make him happy.” Harry takes advantage of the red light he’s pulled up to turn and look properly at Louis’ face. He’s not even looking in Harry’s direction though, focused instead on something out of his side window, head drooped, mindlessly playing with the string of his hoodie between his fingers, lost in his own world somewhere. For some reason, it makes Harry’s spine straighten. “Because he’s your best mate?” Harry questions carefully. “He’s my boyfriend.” He couldn’t have heard him right. “What?” Louis releases a deep breath, still not turning around. Harry wonders who he thinks he’s talking to right now. “He’s so pretty. Want to kiss him all day long. And buy him a big house and give him presents and marry him.” Or The one where Harry is in love with his best friend Louis but doesn't think he stands a chance until some wisdom teeth and a rather unusual confession might just change his mind.

✦ We Can Go On Forever (When Everything’s Gone Forever) | jurassiclouis | a/b/o - mating rituals - fluff - 39k Harry spent most of his adult life focused on either his studies or his books - 5 of which he has already had published before he was 30. Immediately after completing his dissertation, he was offered a lectureship at Cambridge University where he’s been for 2 years now. This wasn’t the first time in his life that he had felt the incessant itch to know more about a subject by any means. However, this was the first time the subject had been an Omega.

✦ keep it sweet in your memory | Safetypinprince | cheating - emotional cheating - divorce - moral ambiguity - 17k 'How'd it go?' Harry pushes them into Niall's room and shuts the door behind him, so Georgia doesn't overhear. 'It was good. We just caught up, mostly... I may have done something a little stupid, though.' And Niall's eyebrows are in his hairline at that. 'I mean. Okay, so I invited Louis out on Saturday.' 'Saturday? Your--' 'Yes, my bachelor party...' and then Harry has to explain himself, 'I just felt guilty. I think. He was like. Telling me he wanted to hook up.' 'He WHAT!?' 'No. I mean, not with me. Like. He wants to go out and meet people.' 'He'll hate that. He's too much of a romantic.' 'Yeah, well. Whatever his name was messed him up a little, it would seem.'

✦ the way the storms blow | rbbsbb | friends to lovers - accidental voyeurism - pining - 21k Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick. That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way. Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in. Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

✦ The Frying Pan and the Fire | embro | 22k Harry is a former child star who now works at a bar. Louis is an indie artist who wants Harry to be in his new music video. Harry is a grump and Louis is too chipper. Harry is straight and Louis is openly gay. Louis is determined and persistent and at some point Harry stops denying himself.

✦ But When We Kiss... | indiaalphawhiskey | PWP - age difference - Sugar Daddy - strangers to lovers - daddy kink - discipline kink - spoiling kink - 8k Louis only nodded, still smiling. “Right, okay. As much fun as this has been, I really doubt the lovely heated seating of my car will dull our banter. Or...” he dragged out the ‘r’, eyes mischievous. “Are you really going to let a…” he assessed Harry. “Twenty? Twenty year gap,” he confirmed. “Be the reason you get hypothermia? Is that really the hill you want to freeze on, Mr. Principled?” –– Or, while Harry and Louis adore the chase, they find they adore each other much, much more.

✦ thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in | nonsensedarling | a/b/o - emotional hurt/comfort - mutual pining - fluff - friends to lovers - 52k Harry's alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam's latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis' financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.

✦ beautiful sound beautiful noise | delsicle | Guardian Angels - strangers to lovers - famous/not famous - hurt/comfort - light angst - fluff - 53k Louis is a washed-up pop star who has spent nearly a year hiding away from the world. Harry is a guardian angel who is assigned to live with him for the summer. Neither of them quite get what they’re expecting.

✦ once bitten and twice shy | pinkcords | friends to lovers - enemies to lovers - Christmas - angst - mild homophobia - 19k This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?” Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended.

✦ You Smell Like | mystic_believexx | pack dynamics - werewolves - human pack member - soulmates - friends to lovers - kid fic - scenting - 185k For her part, Jay took everything in her stride, barely batting an eyelid when Louis came into the kitchen the night Harry left and said, “I seem to have accidentally become the pack’s Alpha”. Ever since Harry left town, Louis’ found himself with the role of pack Alpha, despite being human. So he can’t wait to hand over the reins when Harry returns. Except, it’s not quite that simple… OR The one where Louis is the Alpha’s mate and everyone is aware of it except for Louis and Harry. Go figure!

✦ Strangers in Love | sweetums | slow burn - amnesia - car accidents - angst - light dom/sub - enemies to lovers - 42k Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

✦ Just Let Me Adore You | lovelarry10 | kid fic - fluff - single parents - famous/not famous - Christmas - strangers to lovers - 26k When Louis’ daughter presents him with a Christmas gift far beyond the price range of a four year old, he jumps to the worst of conclusions. He’s pleasantly surprised when he finds out how she isn’t as naughty as he thought she was, and who came to her rescue..

✦ Looking for something dumb to do | rainbowslovehl (Larrymateforlife) | meet-cute - marriage proposal - fluff - 4k Louis somehow gets coerced into accepting a challenge to propose to his crush. Somehow, the night doesn't end in a disaster.

✦ Meet Me Underneath The Mistletoe | 4ureyesonly28 | christmas - fluff - 9k Louis flies out to Chicago for business just before Christmas... His flight home is cancelled because of a snow storm and he ends up going to his colleague Niall's Christmas party where he meets the most gorgeous man he's ever seen. And if they end up under the mistletoe within less than an hour then that's nobody's business but theirs.

✦ Just Say Yes | GMTYUniverse | fake relationship - fake marriage - friends to lovers - university - 19k “Well, given that I’ve run all out of options - I’d like to propose,” Louis says with a sharp grin. ‘Propose what?’ Harry questions, frown on his face. ‘Honestly Louis, you’re in trouble here and we have to find a way that’ll allow you to stay. Now’s not the time to be cryptic.’ “I’m not being cryptic – I’m proposing, here.” He sits down on one knee and quickly fashions a ring out of the hair-tie he’s still got wrapped around his wrist. “Harry Styles – please marry me and make an honest, British citizen out of me.” -- or the one where Louis and Harry fake a marriage to keep Louis in Britain, and it's suspiciously easy, until it isn't anymore.

✦ Won't You Help Me Make This Wish Come True? | DuchessKitty16 | bucket list - grandparents - 13k Harry is determined to help his grandfather Richard get through his bucket list. Problem is, #3 on the list is to "propose to the pretty girl down the lane", who just happens to be the grandmother of Louis Tomlinson, the boy Harry had a crush on as a teen. Harry and Louis work together to make dreams come true and make a love connection between their grandparents. But will some magic spark between Louis and Harry along the way?

✦ Don't Call Me Angel | larryent | a/b/o - strip clubs - stripper/exotic dancer - 16k Manhattan is a dangerous playground for the rich and entitled Alphas of New York. Those same wealthy Alphas are robbed after spending one night in the presence of a blue-eyed Omega and Officer Styles is assigned to the case.

✦ i'll be yours for christmas | rina_a | christmas - fluff - 5k My family invited you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and i’m so sorry.

✦ The Goat Guy of Bethlehem | lululawrence | advent fic - christmas - fluff - humor - strangers to friends to lovers - 25k “What a pretty little thing!” a voice cried, catching Harry's attention. Harry looked up, assuming it was a merchant talking to Gemma or some other “citizen” of Bethlehem, but when he did, he found a woman with bright eyes and long dark hair walking over to him. “Me?” He wasn’t sure what to expect from any of this since she wasn’t a merchant he had met before. “Yes, you! I think you’d make a very good husband for my son. Are these your parents?” “Uh, yes?” Harry said, almost like a question. Robin and his mom just watched on with amusement, much to his chagrin. Turning to Anne and Robin, the merchant woman said, “I’ll give you six goats for the marriage of your son to mine.” Or every year, Harry and his family attend a church festival called Bethlehem. Harry's freshman year of high school Bethlehem expands, bringing in new vendors, including one that just might change everything for Harry. But first, he has to see if Anne and Robin are willing to part with him for the price of a few goats.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

An Explanation of Why Louis and Violet are Both Terrific Love Interests [1/5]

+Why both romantic routes are not only amazing but better than other games I’ve personally played in the past. 

+Why some people are idiots and get off on picking stupid fights. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Grab a beverage and sit down, I’m about to weave you a tale. 

A long time ago, I made an Instagram account. I did this so that I could have another place to intake TWDG content. I got to see lots of artwork and watch fun little videos and edits and it was all great. 

For about an hour before everything went downhill far too quickly. You see, I rarely go on that Instagram account anymore because no matter what tag I look under to search for content, a good 60% of it is all the same: hateful. 

Hateful towards Violet, hateful towards Louis, hateful towards each other. I can’t tell you how many posts I’ve scrolled past with the title “TELLTALE AND SKYBOUND HATE LOUIS AND HERE’S WHY” or “VIOLET IS THE WORST AND HERE’S WHY” or “WHY VIOLENTINE IS CANON AND CLOUIS IS NOT” or any other nonsense along those lines. 

After that, I quit going on Instagram. 

Until one day, I thought to myself, “Well, maybe now that the game is over, those dingdongs have moved on and I can look at the twdg tag in peace!”

And to be fair, it wasn’t as bad, but it’s still actively being made. Along with other questionable content that I think has taken hours off of my life just by witnessing it but we’re not going to dive down that rabbit hole right now. 

Anyway, after glancing over another “SKYBOUND HATES LOUIS” post, I couldn’t help but think, “Y’know, either y’all don’t realize how lucky we were to have gotten a bisexual lead with not only one great romantic option but two amazing romantic options, or y’all are just a bunch of idiots who get off on fighting. Maybe even both. I mean, sure, they’re not equal in every single way possible and there are a lot of things that I wanted, but it’s a helluva lot better than what we’ve been given in the past with other games.”

The thoughts kept building up as I recalled previous games that had optional romances that left me underwhelmed or downright disappointed. Neither Louis nor Violet have perfect romance routes, each with things that we wish we had more of, but we’re lucky to have gotten what we did, and because I haven’t written a post like this in a long time, allow me to break it down for you. 

Keep in mind that this is just my opinion and how I see things. I’m sure there’ll be a point where you say “Well, CJ, I beg to differ on this particular topic and/or idea-” and that’s fine. 

Hell, maybe you have a game with a disappointing romance that I didn’t list here because I’ve yet to play it. That’s great, feel free to share! This post is for fun but also because I need to vent some frustrations towards a fight that is 100% unnecessary but continues regardless. 

Beware of spoilers for the following games:

Life is Strange Persona 4 TWDG: A New Frontier King’s Quest [2015] Catherine

[both Louis and Violet are great!]

all y’all on instagram are just idiots

Now, in case you couldn’t tell from my blog, I love Louis. When it comes to my personal canon of TWDG, clouis is my endgame. Louis is my favorite non-playable character of the entire series, if not my absolute favorite. I love him. 

You know who else I love? Violet. She’s great. I found myself relating a lot to her character and I wanted to see her make it to the end okay. I was pissed when she was pissed at me, but in the end, I was more pissed about her treatment regarding her blinding and how easily she and Clementine made up. 

But you know what I really, truly love? A great bisexual protagonist: Clementine. 

Clementine’s the lucky one here in that she has the choice between sweet, charming, loyal Louis and witty, strong yet sensitive Violet. This is the definition of “bi panic” because really

I do want to add that I haven’t played Violet’s romance route, but I don’t need to to know that it’s great. There are a thousand and one blogs who can explain her romance with Clementine 100% better than I can, but I will try my best within this section and my conclusion since I’m mostly talking about them together.

Now, why is it great that Clementine is a bisexual protagonist? Well, there’s obviously the representation which was more than welcome in this case, regardless of what some idiots will say. 

Not only that, but it allows the player to romance a boy or a girl, which again, is obvious but I have some points about this that I’ll bring up when I talk about other games, like Life is Strange and Persona 4, so put a little pin in that for later. 

Both Louis and Violet are presented as loving partners for Clementine, and they’re both people who Clementine cares about. Based on your choices and how you play her, you can be as affectionate with them as possible and help them better themselves over the course of the game. 

Louis and Violet have different but interesting backstories, they have different ways of communicating their feelings, they both deal with their own struggles [internal and external] and open up to Clementine in different ways. 

Yes, there was plenty to be desired within the routes. We’ve talked about that before so I won’t go into great detail about it, but in conclusion: Louis and Violet are great. 

So why do people argue about it?

My scientific conclusion states that they’re idiots who get off on picking fights over the internet. 

And that they don’t know how good they got it because we could’ve gotten so, SO much worse. 

At this point, I will be comparing the Louis/Violet romance to romances found in other games I’ve played, starting with a game that I liked very much, but was ultimately disappointed with, well.... everything. 

[life is strange and imbalance]

every choice matters except not really until we hit episode 5: bae vs bay

Life is Strange is an episodic game that released in 2015. It follows Max Caulfied, a young, aspiring photographer attending Blackwell Academy who learns that she can rewind time after witnessing a girl being shot in the bathrooms. 

I was pretty into this when it first came out. I played each episode as it came out, I read stuff on Tumblr and watched every theory video on youtube I could find. It had a likable and relatable protagonist, a pretty cool missing person mystery, cringy dialogue, and cool rewind powers. 

Let’s talk about Max, our playable protagonist. 

She’s shy, awkward, nosy, and she wants to be a photographer but lacks confidence when it comes to putting herself out there despite having the talent. She goes through a lot of grief and betrayal through the game, but ultimately learns more about herself and how her choices affect everything around her. 

She’s also bisexual, and like Clementine, she can romance a girl or a boy. 

Love Interest #1: Chloe Price

Chloe is the deuteragonist [secondary main character] of Life is Strange, and Max’s old childhood friend. She’s also the girl who gets shot in the bathroom, and the girl whose [girl]friend, Rachel Amber, is missing. 

Over the course of the story, Max and Chloe reconnect and grow closer as they try and find Rachel while also trying to figure out Max’s powers. We spend most of our time with Chloe, going to diner’s and junkyards and what have you. 

We learn a lot about Chloe’s home life: Her father died in a car accident, her mom owns a diner and remarried an asshole who smacks Chloe around when she smokes weed in her bedroom. We see Chloe as her most vulnerable, we save her life numerous times because she just won’t stop getting herself killed. 

Hell, we do this to the point where it begins to physically hurt Max and makes her bleed. We do this because Max claims that Chloe is the most important person to her. 

The most important person in Max’s life. 

Now, spoilers for the ending, but it turns out that the storm that’s come to destroy Arcadia Bay is all because of Chloe. So, the final choice Max has to make is to either go back and let Chloe die in the bathroom or let the storm destroy a town and kill nearly everyone there. 

Either you sacrifice an entire town of people or you sacrifice Chloe. 

Bay vs Bae, as the kids dubbed it.

Romancing Chloe isn’t exactly full of fluffy smooches, though. You’d think it would, but considering that the girl we’re looking for is Chloe’s girlfriend who Chloe loved very much, it’s mostly Max saying how much she cares about Chloe and then Chloe turning around like “Boy, I wish Rachel was here...”

Then we find out Rachel’s fucking dead and that’s a real romance killer if I’ve ever seen one. 

Hell, the only time you get a real smooch from her [that we see] is if you sacrifice her! If you sacrifice the town, the game’s like “Really? Okay....” and you watch Max and Chloe drive through a wrecked town and into the sunset together. 

There’s a lot of different factors to it that you don’t get unless you’ve played it, but for me, it was disappointing. I didn’t even romance Chloe the first time because I didn’t even really like her, but when I did romance her, I felt cheated!

I only get to be happy with my girlfriend if I can live with the blood of an entire town on my hands?? And odds are, fate’s gonna keep trying to kill her, so I also have to hurt myself and numerous timelines to keep her alive until I eventually explode????

Man, I don’t know if I want to commit to that, y’know? Thankfully, there’s another romance option I can look at, right?

....Right?

Continued in Part 2

[jabbers-of-jay]

is it to late for the ficlet prompts? if not, can you do 9, 16 21, and 38 for courferre? (if it's too late you don't have to.

It’s never too late for a ficlet prompt friend!

9. “You meant too much to me.”  16. “I’ve got you.”  21. “We’ll figure this out.” 38. “All I wanted was for you to be happy.”

Courfeyrac happily started to drag Combeferre back to his room for the rest of the night.

“Use protection!” Grantaire’s voice followed them. Combeferre groaned

“I can, and will, kick you out.” Combeferre retorted.

“Over my dead body.” came Enj’s retort as he read through something on his laptop.

“Come ooonnn.” Courfeyrac said, tugging Combeferre’s hand.

Combeferre stood leaning against the closed door, watching as Courfeyrac did not sit still.

“What are you doing?” He asked curiously, as Courfeyrac easily destroyed what was once an immaculate room. Combeferre would have once felt slightly upset and intruded upon had someone come in and made themselves at home like Courfeyrac did. He didn’t mind the living room being taken over, it was more the invasion of his room. But, he was pretty used to Courfeyrac making himself at home, and Combeferre felt for him. In fact, Combeferre had been the one to suggest he quarantine at his and Enjolras’s. Marius had gone to Cosette’s and Combeferre wasn’t sure how Courfeyrac would take quarantining alone.

It had been interesting seeing Courfeyrac’s stuff slowly take over his room. At first Courfeyrac had said he would sleep on the couch. But the first night there had been a huge thunderstorm and Combeferre had found his friend asking if he could cuddle until the storm passed. Combeferre had sleepily agreed. Since then, Courfeyrac had been climbing into bed with him and Combeferre had not been the least upset with the development.

Combeferre’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a pillow to the head.

“Don’t just stand there, help me!” Courfeyrac said from where he stood on a wobbling chair, tying a sheet to a lamp. Combeferre instantly crossed the room to stabilize the chair.

“And what exactly are you doing?” Combeferre quietly asked.

“Building a pillow fort of course! Pillow forts are the best for cuddling.” He said, though he suddenly slowed his movements as he stepped down from the chair. “If, if you want to cuddle, that is.” Courfeyrac said, suddenly looking a little shy. Combeferre smiled and leant down to kiss Courfeyrac’s forehead.

“I’d love nothing more.” He replied.Courfeyrac let out a sigh of relief and was back to flying around the room, converting the entire place into a pillow fort, with Combeferre’s help. Commbeferre wasn’t sure he had ever seen his room this much of a mess before.

As Courfeyrac put up the final touches, Combeferre went back out to the kitchen to make some popcorn.

“Wow, done already?” Grantaire asked with a smirk. Combeferre gave him the finger while he finished the popcorn while Enjolras laughed.

Combeferre stepped back into his bedroom and found the fort complete. He was about to crawl in, when he found his way barred.

“What’s the password?” Courfeyrac asked with a giggle.

“Hmmm, I don’t think that information was shared with me… but what about a kiss?” Combeferre asked. Courfeyrac put a finger on his chin and thought.

“Hmmmm, well. People have been known to be seduced into giving information up.” Courfeyrac said, eyeing Combeferre’s lips. Combeferre set the popcorn to side and crawled forward, placing his arms on either side of Courfeyrac, he leaned forward and deeply kissed Courfeyrac.

When Combeferre backed away, Courfeyrac took a deep breath, looking a little dazed.

“I think the rule is changing. Payment in kisses instead of a password.” He said. Combeferre laughed.

“I think I can live with that.” He said, pulling in the popcorn. The two lay cuddles in the pillow fort, Tangled playing on Courfeyrac’s laptop. About halfway through, Courfeyrac started biting his bottom lip, working it between his teeth. After 5 minutes, Combeferre reached his thumb out and gently pulled Courfeyrac’s lip out. From his teeth.

“What are you thinking about?” Combeferre asked, knowing Courfeyrac chewed on his lip when he was nervous and seriously thinking about something. Courfeyrac paused the movied and sat silently for a moment before sighing.

“The kiss, it didn’t feel… it felt like, like you’d been wanting to for awhile.” Courfeyrac said quietly. Combeferre nodded.

“I did. I was going to tell you. On our trip.” He explained.

“Tell me what?” Courfeyrac asked, looking to his best friend.

“That I’ve wanted to kiss you for years. To hold your hand when we walk down the street.” Combeferre said quietly, bringing Courfeyrac’s hand to his lips and kissing it.

“Why didn’t you?” Courfeyrac breathed out. He had never seen this side of Combeferre before. He was romantic, confident, and somewhat suave, and it made Courfeyrac’s heart beat faster and forget to breathe.

“You meant too much to me. Our friendship. I didn’t want it to change.” Combeferre explained. “I also didn’t want to royally fuck it all up if you didn’t feel the same way.” He said, playing with their clasped hands.

“But…. you were going to change your mind?” Courfeyrac prodded. “On our trip?”

“Enjolras assured me you did and that I just needed to ask.” Combeferre said. “I thought…. I thought maybe going on a trip together would make things clear. Help me be able to…express myself more. But, mostly, I just wanted you to be happy and enjoy some time off. I just thought, if we came back dating, that would just be an added bonus if it came up.” He said. Courfeyrac smiled and leaned back against the pillows.

“That’s…the best thing anyone has ever said. But, I think I prefer it this way.” He said with a smile.

“Oh yeah?” Combeferre asked and laid back beside Courfeyrac.

“Mmm yes, and Artems will forever remember the day you finally admitted you love her.” Combferre chuckled.

“That’s a price I’m willing to pay. As long as you agree to be my boyfriend.” He said.

“Well I figured that was a given.” Courfeyrac said. The two smiled and settled back in to watch the rest of the movie.

Courfeyrac was asleep in Combeferre’s arms and the movie was almost over when Combeferre’s phone started to buzz. He sighed, not wanting to move Courfeyrac, but knowing the likely cause of the buzz. Courfeyrac stirred a little as Combeferre shifted to get to his phone. Combeferre sat up at the number and immediately picked up the call.

“Hello, Dr. Combeferre speaking.” he said. Courfeyrac instantly woke up hearing the change in Combeferre’s voice. “Yes. I understand. Yes. I’ll be in then. Bye.” He said and hung up. Courfeyrac looked up at Combeferre sadly. Combeferre sighed.

“That was the hospital, wasn’t it?” He asked. Combeferre nodded. “But… what about. What about all of the quarantine cuddles and making out and, and just being a couple?” He asked. Courfeyrac knew Combeferre needed to go where he was called, but he couldn’t help but be selfish for a moment.

“I’m sorry Courf. I have to go. They need me. I have to go and help so others can still have their boyfriend to cuddle.” He said softly.

“I know.” Courfeyrac said quietly. “And I love that about you. I just….” He trailed off, a tear gathering in his eye.

“Shhh. I know, I know. We’ll figure it out. We’ll make this work. We’ll have dates and talk late. Alright? I’m always going to be here for you. I’ve got you. No matter how far apart we are.” Combeferre said, holding Courfeyrac just a little tighter. Courfeyrac nodded his head against Combeferre’s chest. They sat and cuddled in the pillow fort for the next half hour.

“When do you have to go?” Courfeyrac finally asked. Combeferre looked at his watch

“In about an hour and a half. I need to get some clothes together.” He said quietly. Courfeyrac sat up and kissed Combeferre.

“I’ll go wash the masks.” He said quietly. Combeferre gave him a confused look.

“Jehan is already making more, and you need to be protected. I’m sure others at the hospital need them too.” He said, already making his way towards the door. Combeferre smiled. That was just like Courfeyrac, he knew everything in their friend group and knew that supplies were needed elsewhere.

Combeferre carefully went around his room, gathering a few days worth of clothes and trying not to destroy the pillows fort. After he put things in his bag, he walked out to the kitchen to get some food together. He found Enjolras and Grantaire, already putting together baggies of food for him that wouldn’t go bad.

“Courfeyrac told us.” Enjolras said quietly. Grantaire nodded to the living room. Combeferre found Courfeyrac curled into a blanket on the couch, a few masks sitting on the table in front of him. Combeferre sat down and took Courfeyrac into his arms.

“Will you be able to come home at all?” He asked. Combeferre shrugged.

“I don’t want to put you guys at risk.” he said. Courfeyrac nodded. “I’m sure I’ll be back at some point, but it’ll probably mostly just be to sleep, and I won’t be able to touch anyone.” He said softly. “Or kiss you.” He said leaning forward and gently kissing Courfeyrac.

“Well… we better make the most of the next 30 mintutes then.” Courfeyrac replied. Combeferre chuckled, but happily complied.

Enjolras and Grantaire let them be, knowing the next few weeks would be hard. When the buzzer on the dryer went off, they all gathered in the hall. Combeferre put the masks and food in his bag and slipped his shoes on. He gave Grantaire a hug “Make sure they sleep.” He muttered. Grantaire nodded. Enjolras was next.

“Take care of them. Try not to kill Courfeyrac.” Combeferre said

“No promises. Be safe” Enjolras replied. Before Combeferre could even step towards his boyfriend, Courfeyrac had already launched himself into Combeferre’s arms.

“Don’t do anything stupidly heroic.” Courfeyrac said. “Be safe, stay healthy. I love you.” He said all in one breath. Combeferre hugged Courfeyrac tightly.

“I love you too. Don’t drive them too mad. I’ll be back before you know it.” He said, with a slightly watery smile. Combeferre leaned in for one more kiss before taking a breath and stepping back. Courfeyrac handed him a face mask and helped him adjust it over his ears. Courfeyrac reached out and straightened Combeferre’s glasses. They shared one last look before Combeferre was gone.

“Come on Courfeyrac. We’ll watch the first season of Brooklyn 99.” Grantaire said. Courfeyrac nodded and followed Enjolras and Grantaire back into the living room. He pulled his phone out and sent a text as he sat down on the couch.

“I miss you.” He sent to Combeferre.

“I miss you too, love.” Came the instant reply.

[destiel-love-forever]

Day 1: First Date

Combined two prompts from two anons for day one on 14 Days of Destiel Valentine’s!!  - "For the Valentines' prompts... First date?" && " This high class restaurant I’ve always wanted to eat at is doing a Valentines day dinner special that’s like half the price of a normal meal there and my ass is broke so will you pretend to be my date and come out to eat with me?" 

Read Below or on AO3: HERE

“So,” Dean begins as he leans on the checkout counter to look at Castiel. “Any Valentine’s Day plans this weekend?”

 As usual when his most frequent customer talks to him, Castiel ducks his head to hide his blush and tries his best not to sound flustered. “Ummm, no. Nothing special planned.”

 “Any regular plans?”

 “Nope.” Castiel laughs awkwardly, his hands shaking as he rings up Dean’s coffee and donut. It’s the same every night. 3 a.m., Dean in his police uniform, wrapping up another patrol shift, stopping at the gas station by his house – the one Castiel happens to work at – buying coffee and donuts. Castiel teases him relentlessly about the whole ‘cop with a coffee and donut’ cliché. It never fails to make Dean smile.

 Castiel really likes making Dean smile.  

 It’s been two years of Castiel working this shift and Dean working his, the two of them seeing each other at least three or four times a week. At first it was Castiel fumbling and stuttering as he tried to ring up the officer with the gorgeous smile and witty remarks, but thankfully Dean’s insistence on small talk has loosened Castiel up. 

 A bit. 

 As loose as you can be when you’re head over heels in love with a man ten times out of your league that likes to flirt with anyone that moves. 

 “Do you have any plans?” Castiel asks politely as he waits for Dean to fish out his money. 

 “I don’t.” Dean leans further over the counter and Castiel finally looks up at him. He realizes that Dean isn’t trying to get his money. In fact, he doesn’t seem at all concerned about his coffee and donut at the moment. His eyes are locked on Castiel. “You don’t work?”

 “Surprisingly I do not.”

 “Great. Neither do I.” Dean grins. “Listen, this is gonna sound crazy but I promise I’m not trying to be a creep and come onto you, okay?”

 Castiel laughs nervously, his heart in his throat. “O-okay.”

 “This high class restaurant I’ve always wanted to eat at is doing a Valentine’s Day dinner special that’s like half the price of a normal meal there and my ass is broke so will you pretend to be my date and come out to eat with me?” It all comes out in a rush and for the first time, Dean is the one blushing instead of Castiel. 

 Well, that’s not entirely accurate. Castiel is still blushing, but Dean is at least joining him now. 

 “H-how expensive are we talking?” Castiel asks, doing a mental calculation of his current bank account balance. 

 “Don’t worry about it. I’ll cover your half. I just can’t go alone. They’re only letting couples go.” Dean beams at him as if Castiel already agreed. “So, will you come with me?”

 Castiel doesn’t even have to consider it.

 “Yes.”

---- 

 Dean has never seen Castiel outside of his gas station attendant uniform. Don't get Dean wrong, the little blue vest and name tag are adorable, but Castiel cleans up well. He's gorgeous, standing outside the restaurant in dark jeans and a button up with the top two buttons undone. The blue of his shirt makes the blue of his eyes pop even though it's dark outside. 

 He's breathtaking.

 Dean has officially been launched from yeah that college kid is cute and I have a major crush on him to fuck, I might be in love with him...

 "Hey," Castiel says softly, looking slightly uncomfortable. Dean can't exactly blame him. He's been staring at the kid like an idiot. 

 Dean clears his throat and pastes on a smile. "Hey. You look great." 

 "Thanks. You too." Castiel tugs at his collar. "I, um… I don't own a tie. Do you think this'll be okay?" 

 "It'll be perfect. You ready?" 

 When Castiel nods, Dean takes his hand and starts to lead him into the restaurant. He's only holding Castiel's hand because of the whole couple ruse, of course.  

 At least, that’s his excuse if Castiel questions it.

 The host seats them at a small table in the back corner of the restaurant. The scene screams romance. From the twinkle lights strung along the ceiling and the live piano music to the rose petal covered table and the bouquet of flowers in a vase as the centerpiece. Once they've taken their seats and have been handed the special Valentine’s Day menu, the host leaves. 

 Castiel's first words are, "This place is gorgeous."

 Dean swallows the flirty, "You're gorgeous," and just agrees with Castiel instead. 

 "So why this place?” Castiel asks. “I mean, yeah it's nice and the food is probably amazing, but why'd you want to come here so bad?"

 "It's new. Small town like ours, you don't get that much. Especially like this. All we end up with are crappy diners or chain restaurants, but this chef used to work at a 4-star restaurant which is amazing. I've been wanting to eat here since it opened last summer." 

 Castiel leans forward and it's clear he's not faking interest. The fact makes Dean's stomach flip. "You must really like food then, hey?"

 "Absolutely. It was actually my dream to be a chef, but it doesn't pay the bills, at least not starting out." 

 "I get that. I can barely afford to live and go to school full-time, even with my financial aid. Hence the shitty gas station job."

 Dean straightens in concern. "You're going to school full-time? I figured you were only half or online or something."

 "Nope. I go to school during the day. It's not so bad this semester, actually. Last semester I had a practicum, so I had to do all my coursework for my classes but then on top of that do 15 hours in a classroom every week. It was brutal." Castiel laughs to himself. "I survived on coffee and hatred.' 

 "Coulda fooled me. You're always so happy."

 "You're the bright spot in it all." Castiel's smile falls. Panic makes his breath hitch in his chest, the shudder visible from where Dean is sitting. "I-"

 "So, you're an education major then?" Dean asks, saving Castiel from the embarrassment. Or maybe just saving himself from sharing his own embarrassing confession that Castiel is his bright spot too. 

 Castiel bounces back quickly, relief relaxing his shoulders and allowing his smile to return. "Yeah, elementary ed. I'd love to work with 2nd grade but anything under 4th will be fine. Once kids hit 4th grade they turn into little assholes." 

 This catches Dean by surprise, pulling a laugh from him. Castiel was always so shy and soft spoken at the gas station. Now that he's opening up, his personality is really getting a chance to shine. 

 Dean is on a very slippery slope here. 

 It only gets slipperier when Castiel says with enthusiasm, "You know, you should really try out for one of those shows. Like MasterChef! I'm sure you could get some sort of leave of absence from work. There's no way all of those people just quit their jobs, you know?"

 "I've actually thought about that…" Dean darts his eyes away, feeling the same as always when his dreams come up. "Michael told me not to waste the money flying out for the whole interview process or whatever, though. Said I'm housewife good, not actually good."

 "Umm, who the fuck is Michael?"

 Dean looks back at Castiel before answering. He startles when he sees the rage on the young man's face. "My ex."

 "Well fuck him. Seriously? It's not up to him. It's up to Gordon Ramsay - or whoever else tests your food. I don't know how the process works exactly but it's not up to him. And he sounds like an asshole anyway. If it's your dream then you need to do it, Dean! Isn't the chance worth it?" Castiel shakes his head in amazement before laughing once under his breath. "And I bet you're really fucking good, too. He sounds like an asshole that didn't deserve you. You should go on that show and kick some ass and then do a little shout out video with a huge I told you so." 

 Dean needs to blink a few times as he tries to process the mini-rant Castiel just spewed at him. As the words sink in, his lips spread into a wide smile that borders on painful. "You've never even tasted my food. How the hell are you so passionate about this?" 

 "Because I care about you." Castiel's eyes soften for half a second, something deeper passing between them. Then they light back up with humor. "And if I can't make an informed decision without eating your food, I guess you'll just have to cook for me some time." 

 "Yes. I suppose I will. But then you'll owe me a meal." 

 "Oooh, no. No, no, no. Trust me. You don't want that."

 Dean chuckles. "Can't cook?"

 "I held my own for a while. I made a mean hot pocket. And toast. I'm like an expert at getting the toast just the right amount of crunchy where it's not too soft and it's not burnt either." He makes a chef’s kiss with his fingers, the sound loud in the air between them. "Then, sadly, my toaster became out of commission. So, it's mostly just cereal and pb&js for me. Unless my microwave decides to work, which is extremely rare." 

 "What happened to your toaster?"

 Castiel looks up at him with both amusement and shame. "I may have gotten a piece of frozen waffle stuck in there and I can't figure out how to get it out, so every time I start to cook something it sets on fire…"

 "On fire?" Dean's eyebrows shoot up as he laughs. "Jesus. Yeah, okay. I'll be the one cooking then." 

 "Perfect." Castiel picks up his menu and waves it. "We should probably actually figure out what we're going to order hey?"

 Dean's immediate instinct is to say no. To ask Castiel if they can just spend the night talking. Who cares about the food?

 It's a terrifying thought.

 It's also exhilarating. 

 "I can get a bottle of wine for us to share," Dean offers. "Would you like red or white?"

 The blush that warms Castiel's face is so familiar, setting Dean at ease. "I'm actually not of age. Only 20."

 "Oh." Dean puts the wine menu down and laughs. "Well, then. Never mind."

 "You can get some though! It won't bother me."

 "I actually hate wine to be honest. Much more of a beer guy."

 "Yeah, I can handle maybe two wine coolers before I'm a mess anyway. Total lightweight." Castiel's chin snaps up and his eyes bulge. "Shit! I mean - not that I'd ever drink, because like that's illegal - and I'd - well-"

 Dean bursts out laughing. "Calm down, Cas. You think I never drank underage? Long as I'm not in uniform we don't have a problem." 

 "Okay. Good." Castiel takes a drink of his water, his hand shaking. It nearly spills when he tries to put the glass back down. "If it makes you feel any better, that's pretty much the sum of all illegal activity in my life. Unless you're counting the time I stole a chap stick because all my friends were stealing stuff, but since I felt so guilty about it that I went back 2 hours later and put it on the shelf again without ever opening it, I don't think it counts. So, I'm officially arrest free, officer." 

 Dean laughs. "Why does it not surprise me that you would do something like that?"

 "Nerdy… I know."

 "I was going to say adorable." Castiel flushes at his words, ducking his head. It's so goddamn endearing that Dean finds himself admitting something for the first time since it happened. "I was arrested once. When I was 15." 

 "Really?"

 "Yup. Sent to a boy’s home and everything." 

 Castiel looks confused. Dean expects him to ask how he could be a cop then, in which Dean would explain the whole juvenile records being sealed thing. Instead, he surprises Dean by asking, "What did you do?" 

 "I stole some bread and peanut butter. Or, well, I tried to." Dean shrugs like it's no big deal. 

 Castiel doesn't brush it off so easily. He reaches a hand out and places it on top of Dean's where it rests beside his water glass. Dean stares at their hands pressed together as Castiel says softly, "You must have been really hungry. I'm sorry." 

 "It's uh... it's-," Dean needs to stop and clear his throat, suddenly overwhelmed.

 "It's okay." Castiel squeezes his hand gently. Like a reassurance. Like a promise that he's there. Still there. Not going anywhere. "Is that why you love food so much? Because it was such a luxury growing up?" 

 Tears threaten Dean's eyes. Castiel isn't pitying Dean or looking down on him. There's no judgement.

 Castiel understands. 

 "Yes," Dean whispers in relief. "Yes."

 Before they can discuss things further, the waitress comes to take their order. Since neither of them have really managed to look at the menu, they’re both caught a bit in the headlights. Thankfully their choices are limited on the special menu for the night, making it easier to rush through picking things out. They stumble through an agreement on pan seared scallops for an appetizer before Dean orders a medium rare filet mignon with a side of three cheese risotto and Castiel requests the same. 

 Dean worries that things will be awkward now that the conversation was halted but it’s not. The moment the waitress is gone to place their orders, it picks right back up. 

 “Hmmm.” Castiel glances around the restaurant, the wheels in his mind clearly turning. “On a scale of one to our asses getting kicked out, what do you think the rules are in me taking out my phone at a fancy place like this?”

 “They’ll probably just think our date’s going bad and feel bad for us.”

 The little scoffing sound Castiel makes is endearing as he pulls out his phone.

 Castiel starts scrolling through his phone as Dean is left to just stare at him. He laughs awkwardly after a minute. “Ummm, are we having a bad date?”

 “What?” Castiel looks up at him in confusion before shaking his head adamantly. “Absolutely not. This date is the best I’ve ever had. Which is kind of pathetic… since, you know, it’s not real or whatever.”

 “Feels real,” Dean admits. 

 Castiel blushes. “It does, doesn’t it?”

 Unsure of what he should say, Dean redirects the conversation. “Well, if it’s not that, then what the hell are you doing on your phone?”

 Instead of directly answering, Castiel says, “MasterChef auditions for the next seasons starts in October. Locations are L.A, Boston, Atlanta, Houston, New York City, and Chicago.”

 Dean’s heart skips. “You’re looking into MasterChef auditions?”

 “Yes.” Castiel looks up from his phone. “Didn’t you mention a while ago that your brother goes to Stanford? You mentioned you were going to visit him - I swear I’m not a creep, you mentioned it when-”

 “It’s fine, Cas. Yes, he goes to Stanford.”

 “Well then, there you go. L.A. in October and you can stop by and visit your brother while you’re at it.” Castiel beams at him. “That gives us nine months of preparation.”

 Us.

 “O-okay.”

 “Okay. It’s a plan.”

 A plan. 

 Dean decides to go out on a limb, wanting to check to see if Castiel means what he thinks he means. “So, you’re going to help me?”

 “Help you? Psssh.” Castiel puts his phone away and winks. “I’m going to be your official taste tester.”

 “Oh, you think so?”

 “Yup.”

 “And what exactly do I get out of this situation?”

 “Other than my excellent taste testing skills?” Castiel’s smile freezes before dropping a notch or two. "My company?"

 The way he says it, like he's suddenly very unsure of himself, breaks Dean's heart. 

 He reaches over for Castiel's hand now that it's free again, pulling it towards him so their intertwined hands can rest in the center of the table. "I'd say that's more than enough."

 "Yeah?" 

 "Yes." Dean takes a deep breath to steady himself. "And Cas?"

 "Yeah?"

 "I was wondering if maybe you'd-" Dean pauses, looking away from that gorgeous face and bright blue eyes in case he's rejected. "I was wondering if maybe you'd consider going on a real date with me sometime? Like… ya know.. for real."

 The pause that follows is so long that Dean is sure Castiel is going to say no but when he takes a chance and looks at Castiel again, Castiel is grinning. He nods enthusiastically as their eyes meet. "I'd love that. Can we count this as our first date though? Because I am terrible when it comes to first dates and this is already going so well." 

 Dean laughs in relief. "Sure.”

 “Perfect.” Castiel pauses, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re not just dating me for the discount on coffee and donuts, are you?”

 The question is clearly teasing but there’s the slightest undertone of panic beneath it, as if Castiel can’t understand why Dean would genuinely like him.

 That will be something Dean fixes. He doesn’t care how long it takes.

 “No, Cas. I don’t give a shit about the coffee and donuts.” He leans forward and looks Castiel directly in the eyes. “Considering it’s 3 a.m., do you really think I’m coming to the station for coffee and donuts anymore? I usually eat half the donut, wash it down with a sip of the coffee – which is decaf, in case you were wondering – and then crash into bed thinking about the cute boy at the gas station.”

 Castiel seems to puff up. “Really?”

 “Really.”

 “All this time?”

 “Mhhm.” Dean’s smile fades as he turns serious. “The first time I came to the station was after a homicide. A man killed his wife. I’d been to their house twice before because of neighbors calling in the domestic abuse but the woman… no matter what we tried, she never pressed charges against him. Always took him back. Walking into that house that night and seeing her – shit, seeing her on the floor like that. It… wrecked me. I couldn’t get myself to go home after that. Just kept driving around. When I saw the station, I decided to stop on a whim. But then there you were, humming along to the song on the overhead radio as you arranged the candy display, and I was hooked.”

 With a shake of his head, Castiel mutters, “That’s not true. That – you’re not serious.”

 “It was a Tuesday. Winter. One of those nights where the air is crisp but warm so every inhale is relieved, not pained. I had to go to the station to change out of my uniform and into civilian clothes because I had blood on my shirt and it became part of evidence. I was in jeans and a ratty old flannel. It was the worst night of my career to this day, and one of the worst nights of my life.” Dean closes his eyes, letting his smile grow as he pictures the scene before him. “It was a Taylor Swift song and you were into it. Like, humming under your breath, shaking your ass, bobbing your head, into it. You had no idea I was even there. It was so… happy. You were just radiating this joy even thought it was the middle of the night and I doubted you were enjoying the fact that you were awake and working at a gas station. There was just something so freeing about you. I only used the bathroom because you were distracted and I didn’t want to pull you out of it, but the next night I came back in my uniform right when my shift ended and bought my first ever coffee and donut from you. And you-”

 “Laughed and said, ‘a cop buying coffee and a donut?’ Is it your life mission to become a cliché?’” Castiel finishes, his voice taking on the same tone as it did two years ago. He smiles at Dean in wonder. “I was very proud of myself for that, by the way. I was so flustered because you were gorgeous, and I just knew I was going to say something stupid. When that came out instead, I was stoked.”

 “Don’t worry, I figured out pretty quick it was a fluke.”

 Castiel’s jaw drops. “Hey, now!”

 “I’m just speaking the truth! You’re a god damn mess. Always dropping shit and stuttering and blushing.” Dean takes Castiel’s hand in his and smiles fondly. “It’s okay, though. I love that.”

 After staring at Dean for a few seconds, Castiel shakes his head. “I can’t believe it. All this time…”

 “Yeah, Cas.” Dean pushes forward, leaning across the table so his lips ghost against Castiel’s. “All this time.”

[not-safeforsanders]

Sugar Daddy

Warnings: Age gap (19-37), nsfw as always, I guess sort of prostitution but not in the traditional sense. 

Ship: Logicality

Plot: It seemed like a simple arrangement, fuck the dude, get paid. Really simple. Right up until Patton realized that his sugar daddy is actually kind of...sweet

((Am I projecting onto characters again? U bet ur ass I am))

Patton sighs as he looks down at his outfit. “You look wonderful, as always, Pat,” His flatmate, Roman grins at him “That ass though,” Patton giggles a little as he stares in the mirror. White, ripped skinny jeans with a pastel blue shirt tucked into them, little cacti decorated the shirt and overall gave him a look of sweet and innocent. 

Which heavily contradicts with the arrangement he’s made. 

He slides his circular glasses up his freckled nose and runs a hand through his unruly curls in hope of sorting them out somehow. “Are you sure I look okay?” He sighs, sliding his feet into his rather battered boots and tying the rainbow print laces into double bows. Roman nods enthusiastically in response, being the personal hype man that he always is for his friends. 

“Absolutely stunning, he’s not going to be able to keep his hands off of you,” Which might also be a problem. See, Patton is no stranger to sex, it’s having sex with strangers that is the predominant issue. He knows very little about this man as a person, what if he’s not trustworthy? What if this is all just a really bad idea. Isn’t this essentially prostitution?

He thinks about this as he slides his headphones over his head and begins his journey to the place they’d agreed to meet up. It’s just dinner, really, for tonight, just to feel a little more comfortable with each other. And for Patton, a free meal is a wonderous thing especially when he sees how bare his cupboards are. 

The college student stands outside of the restaurant, hands in his pockets as he sways nervously on the spot, he glances down at his phone every now and then just to refresh his memory of what the other man looks like. A car pulls up outside, if this guy could not get any more stereotypical he has his own driver. 

Patton really does hate billionaires most days of the week, but this one is feeding him so he can’t really complain right now. 

Then, there he is. Tall, slender but not skinny, with a sharp jawline and tan skin, black hair perfectly coiffed except for one strand that didn’t seem to want to behave today, as it fell into his blue eyes. “Hi there Patton,” He extends a hand which Patton shakes with a dazed expression, tugging his headphones off of his ears. “Glad to see you got here safely, shall we” He gestures towards the restaurant with a small smile.

If he didn’t know better, Patton might say he almost looked a little shy. But men like that don’t get to come into so much money by being shy. Right? 

The inside of the restaurant is huge, with dim lighting and candles on the tables, the menus finely printed in white and gold. If Roman ever became rich, he’d love this place. As they’re seated, Logan holds out a menu for Patton before talking “So I suppose I just wanted to know about you, get to know you, perhaps it would make the whole ordeal feel less strange for both of us if...”

“We don’t feel like strangers?” Patton smiles a little “Yeah I get that feeling,” His eyes widen at the prices on these meals, a soft ‘what?’ leaving his lips. “Why...Why here? Aren’t these prices a little...excessive?” He’d really just wanted something to eat, he hadn’t expected a meal of nearly $200. 

“Admittedly, not my general place of eating, it is excessive, but I wanted to make a good impression, and I’m told the best way to do that is too...” He trails off a little, looking for the right words. 

“Buy them?” Logan’s cheeks flush, looking a little mortified at first until he sees Patton’s grin “You don’t need to throw your money at me for everything, especially food that I probably won’t even enjoy,” He rests the menu on the table for a moment “And if you really want to make a good impression, mister, you could start by not throwing money around like it’s nothing, the costs of these meals are the cost of my rent for a month,” He chuckled “But I suppose I’ll enjoy being spoiled just for tonight,” 

“I apologize, I hadn’t quite considered you may be offended by frivolous displays,” Patton hesitates, noting the sincerity in the other’s voice, and that the blush to his cheeks hadn’t quite faded making this detail noticeable even in the low light. He’s kind of cute. For someone in their late thirties anyway. 

They order food and wine and talk. Logan discusses his work, which was formerly as a CEO of his father’s company and he detested every second of it, he now works as a professor. “I finished my doctorate when I was 25,” He explains “But my father wanted me to work for him, and it paid very well so I stayed, and I saved up a lot of my money because I knew there would be a time where it didn’t come so freely, but then my father died and I got practically all of his money, and my brother took over the company so it all worked out in the end,”

“I take it you and your father didn’t get along well?” 

“He was, for lack of better phrasing, the world’s biggest asshole,”

“Language!” Logan laughs a little, and Patton can’t help but smile a little. “So now you work in a University? What do you teach?”

“Physics,” Patton nods, he knows nothing about physics, or science, or really anything that requires any degree of mathematics. “And what about you? You mentioned you are a student?”

“Part-time, it’s all I can afford,” He chuckles, but it has a sad tone to it. “I work two jobs just to make rent, sometimes I have to cover some of my roommates because his boss keeps fucking him around, and it’s not exactly easy to get a job these days,” He notices Logan’s expression and corrects the misunderstanding that may have occurred “He always pays me back! It just leaves us both a little strapped for cash when it happens, which basically means food is...nonexistent,” Logan’s eyebrows furrowed, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend that people live like that.

“What do you want to be?” He finally asks. 

“Oh, I want to work with children, primary school children mostly because teenagers are scary,” 

“Admirable, much harder job than mine, I spend too much time around young children and fear I may spontaneously combust,” He fidgets around with his phone for a moment “And what’s your roommate's name?”

“Roman, Prince,” Logan nods slowly, not looking up from his phone for a moment. 

“And what University do you study at?”

“Beacon College...is this 20 questions?” Patton watches him with a look of confusion on his face but is then distracted as the food is put down in front of them. He thanks the waiter with a smile as he starts to eat. Logan switches off his phone and places it down on the table, ignoring it’s existence again. 

“Apologies, work texts,” Patton nods, understanding as he practically shovels the food into his mouth. “I appreciate that you may be hungry, but if you continue to eat at that pace you will make yourself feel sick,” The student slows down a little, swallowing his food before uttering with a smile.

“You sound like my mom,” He teases lightly, as Logan rolls his eyes and starts on his own food. The two eat in varying degrees of quiet, occasionally chipping in odd comments and tidbits of conversation. At the end of the meal, Logan tips the waiter and gives him a smile. “Put it in your pocket and don’t tell your boss,” Patton advises, the waiter laughs and gives Patton a small wink as he takes the plates back to the kitchen. 

“This was nice,” Logan said gently “I almost forgot we even had a predetermined arrangement halfway through that meal, it’s been a while since I’ve been able to talk to a person in a normal manner, it’s very...calming and grounding to spend time with someone who doesn’t mind being honest with me,”

“Honesty is the best policy, most of the time,” Patton replies, digging his hands into his pockets “So...do I go back to yours or...?”

“Perhaps not tonight, our meal lasted longer than anticipated and I have a 9 AM lecture to teach tomorrow,” Patton nods and looks down at his feet awkwardly. “If you don’t mind me asking, however, do you mind...if you’re interested...?” He stumbles over his words, a man so eloquent yet so easily foiled by matters of the heart as he gestures loosely towards Patton. 

The student smiles, watching the man trip over his words before he finally pities him just a little too much, and leans up to kiss him gently. He tastes like wine and coffee and whatever was in that meal he ordered, yet he also tastes soft...and of something that Patton had never tasted before. 

As quickly as it started it was over, and Logan ducks his head to hide the flushed cheeks as Patton fights back a smile. “See you later,” 

“Yeah,” Logan replies dazedly, blinking as he watches Patton walk away “See you later,”

--

For the next two days, Patton can’t stop thinking about Logan. He gets a text just as he’s finishing work on the first day asking if he’d like to come over for dinner tomorrow evening. When he says yes, Logan asks for his address and says he’ll send someone to pick him up. 

Now Patton’s not, generally, dumb. That’s what he tells himself as he hands over his address to a near stranger, an action that has him, and Roman, questioning his sanity. He gets through his own front door to be greeted by his roommate, who looks like he’s just seen a ghost, he’s holding an envelope in each shaking hand. “I think your sugar daddy paid off our university bills,” He whispers, holding out an unopened letter with Patton’s name on it. “Because I didn’t pay them off,”

Patton reads his own letter, a hand coming up over his half-open mouth. “Holy...smokes,” He whispers “He didn’t? He did, holy...oh my God,” His face breaks out into a smile. 

“Jesus you must have some sort of magic ass to get that done,” Patton flushes red at the comment and shoves Roman playfully. 

“We haven’t actually fucked yet, but I guess I should probably go get changed for that,” Roman squeaks as he ushers the other man to his room. 

“I have to dress you for this occasion,” Patton sighs, but there’s no arguing with Roman once he has his mind set on something. They’re both the same height and weight and it’s not uncommon for Roman to steal some of Patton’s jeans every now and then, but in general, the younger has a much more frivolous taste in clothing. Which is how Patton finds himself wearing a pleated white skirt that falls just above his knees, with knee-high socks and dark blue shirt. “You’re definitely getting laid tonight,” Roman chuckles as he sits cross-legged on the bed applying glitter to Patton’s eyelids. He pauses for a moment “Is this...do you want to do this?” He finally asks, looking worried. 

“I do,” Patton replies softly “I wasn’t sure at first, but he’s actually...really sweet and, if all else fails, really cute,” Roman nods, satisfied with this response “And he has lovely eyes,” The elder can hear his friend laughing just a little at his lovestruck expression, but Patton can’t quite react as the younger resume applying makeup. 

The car picks him up at the time agreed upon and Patton gives Roman a quick kiss on the cheek, with the promise that he’ll call if he needs him. The ride to Logan's house wasn’t all too long, and the house itself was not quite as lavish as Patton has been expecting, no it was a moderately sized house that most upper-class people would have, with a quaint and pretty garden. 

Patton stands at the door feeling so small against the big house, reaching up to knock before stepping back a little. Logan opens the door, wearing skinny jeans and a smart blue shirt tucked into them. A tea towel resides on his shoulder, indicating he’d just been using it which is solidified by a wonderful smell. “You have your own driver but you cook for yourself?” Patton relaxes and smiles as he teases the elder man just slightly.

“I can’t be completely helpless in the world,” He holds open the door “May I take your jacket?” Patton smiles and slides the denim jacket off his arms, handing it to Logan as he hangs it up on the coat stand. “Generally I ask for people to take their shoes off at the door, I have some house shoes, cleaning these carpets can be a nightmare,” Patton nods, they have the same rules in their flat too, only because their vacuum is trash and neither of them has a lot of time for cleaning. He toes off his shoes and slides his feet into slippers that are four sizes too big, but he doesn’t miss the slightly endeared look Logan gives him. 

“So what’s for dinner?”

“Lasagne if that’s okay? I realized I possibly should’ve asked if you have any dietary requirements,”

“Oh no, not at all, it smells lovely,” He follows the other into the kitchen and sits down at the dinner table “So did you...was it you who...paid off our student debts? And our tuition? That’s a lot of money I don’t know how to thank you...”

“I’m not in the habit of lying, so I will admit I did, but I don’t want nor need a thank you, I have the money to spare I wouldn’t make a decision financially that I couldn’t handle,” Logan rests a plate down in front of Patton “Furthermore, please don’t feel obligated to me, I simply couldn’t handle the idea of you struggling like that, you don’t...deserve it, nobody does, and for now it’s all I can do,” He sits down opposite Patton with his own plate “Also the food is hot, please don’t burn yourself,”

Patton can’t quite understand his kindness. They had a set of rules in place, an arrangement. Patton hadn’t even given him his end of the bargain and Logan wasn’t remotely pushing for it, he was simply being...nice? Letting Patton go at his own pace? It’s rather sad that Patton really does not, cannot, fathom why someone would do such a thing. 

But there again, if it were him in Logan’s shoes he’d probably do the same. They eat in a comfortable silence as Patton digests his first and only meal of the day. He feels out of place in this big home, he feels so small against the tall walls and like he doesn’t belong, doesn’t fit. As he finally rests down his knife and fork, he looks nervously over at Logan. “So I guess you would like me to...I mean our arrangement was...”

“I only want you to do what you want to do, your company has been more than pleasant enough,” It finally settles into Patton that sex hadn’t been what Logan wanted at all. For some reason, it had been easier to say that than admit the truth. 

He’s lonely. 

All the money in the world can’t buy you a real friend, can’t buy you someone to listen to your awful parents except maybe a therapist, it can’t buy you someone who looks past who you’re supposed to be into who you are. Patton’s lips quirk a little “Well I’m lonely too,” He replies “And I’m bored, and I’m not...opposed,” Logan rests down his knife and fork and wipes his mouth off on the napkin “But I suppose you don’t get this often...what do you want?”

It takes the elder a moment before he nods “Mostly to watch a movie and see what happens,” Patton nods. 

“Netflix and maybe chill it is then,” Logan looks like he doesn’t understand the reference, Patton is somehow completely not surprised. 

They curl up on Logan’s bed as he opens Netflix, Patton’s head rests on the elder’s collarbone, his arm around his stomach. Once a film had been chosen, Logan’s arm rests comfortably around the smaller’s shoulders. “You look...nice,” He says softly, compliments not always coming easy to him but he felt the overwhelming urge to make sure the other knows he is pretty. “I like the skirt,”

“I bet you’d like what’s underneath it too,” Logan’s jaw tenses and his breath hitches a little as Patton leans up to kiss him softly. “Say no if you want to stop,” He mutters against his lips. It had been a while since he’d had the time to simply...well, fuck; Roman seemed to have someone every other night but he also has ten times the amount of energy of a normal human being. Which usually meant Patton had to listen through the very thin walls. 

He’s lonely and he’s horny, in essence. “So much for just seeing where it goes, huh?” Logan mutters as Patton’s thighs trap his body underneath him, his ass resting against the other’s crotch suggestively. 

“I’m seeing where it goes,” He kisses him again, his hands keeping himself up as he grinds his ass down against Logan, eliciting a rather surprised gasp as the elder man’s eyes closed. Patton somehow looks even prettier, his glasses sliding down his nose, his skirt tenting slightly as it rested higher up his thighs. 

Logan’s hands rest firmly on Patton’s hips as he rolls his own up against Patton's ass, feeling his own cock harden underneath the younger. Logan’s hand slides up Patton’s skirt, squeezing him through the material of his very tight, very thin underwear; the brunette gasps out and rocks his hips into Logan’s touch with a whimper of need, nails digging into his partner’s arms. “Fuck me, please, Patton breathes quietly against Logan’s neck, his breath turning sporadic. 

The elder man doesn’t need to be told twice as he easily flips them over, lying Patton down into the bed; he takes a brief moment to admire how wonderful he looks with his cheeks flushed, legs spread, soft curls splayed out against the pillows. Logan wastes no time sliding his partner’s underwear down, discarding the item before sucking the tip of Patton’s cock between his lips, tongue brushing against the slit. 

Patton gasps and whimpers and makes all sorts of wonderful noises as he tries not to simply fuck Logan’s throat. “Please Lo...” He finally manages, embarrassingly needy after spending so long alone. The blue-eyed man pushes through his drawers, looking for the bottle of lube and a condom 

Once he’s found both of these things he slides his belt through the loops and discards it. Pouring some lube onto one hand, he teases Patton’s hole a little, whilst listening to the soft pants and whimpers coming from the brown-eyed man’s lips. As he starts to stretch the other open, forearm tensing as he works his fingers in and out of Patton, with his other arm he squeezes himself through his boxers. His dick flexes under his touch and a quiet moan escapes him, biting down on his lip as he watches the way Patton rocks his hips into Logan’s touch “I’m ready,” He whispers. 

The professor nods as he kicks off his trousers and underwear, sliding a condom over his hard length and lubing himself up. His arm rests to the side of Patton as he uses his free hand to guide himself into the other. Patton welcomes the pleasurable burn with a quiet series of moans, easily accommodating his partner. “Fuck that feels good,” the younger whispers once Logan’s cock is fully inside of him. 

“Good, it would be somewhat counterproductive if it didn’t,” A light teasing tone accompanies the seriousness of his statement. He does want Patton to enjoy this too. It’s been a while for him too, and the warm tightness around his dick is slowly eating away at his resolve, he takes it slow anyway so he doesn’t cause Patton any unwanted pain. 

He rests himself between Patton’s legs, his chest pressing against Patton’s, as their lips meet again in a warm and heated kiss, Logan moves slowly at first until he can taste and hear the quiet demands for him to go faster. As he thrusts into the other, feeling his skin prick with heat and muscles burn in his arms and thighs and abdomen. Patton responds by grinding his hips up, whimpering every time the angle was just right; he makes a lot of noise, but quietly, soft whimpers and gasps in quick succession of each other. 

Logan has been told he’s too methodical to make noise during sex. He concentrates so much on making his partner feel good that sometimes he genuinely forgets he’s supposed to also be feeling good, and he does...it’s just sort of like background noise right now. 

He leans down to suck and bite at Patton’s neck, his hand finding the younger’s twitching cock and squeezing. He teases a little, listening to the curses aimed at him with an amused lilt to them before he strokes Patton properly and in time to the rapidly increasing thrusts. “Fuck, Lo...I’m close,” 

“Language,” Logan teases a little before he presses deep inside the other, Patton bites down on the other’s ear lobe in response, taking note of the throaty and surprised moan it elicits. Patton bites down on his bottom lip, his throat bared as he arches lightly, his nails digging into Logan’s shoulders as he moans and gasps, eyes screwing shut. 

Logan thinks he looks absolutely stunning as he comes, watches him stammer out words in an order that makes no sense, although he does catch a “thank you,” in there. He stills his thrusts as Patton hisses lightly from the overstimulation, pulling out and rolling the condom off of his cock. Once the younger moves again, he pushes Logan back onto the bed, looking a little shaky but with a wide smile on his lips. “There are some flavored condoms in there if you need them,” Logan supplies helpfully. 

He didn’t think he’d ever see someone get excited over flavored condoms. He can’t help but smile as Patton holds up the different flavors. “I have got to try all of these,” He mutters, before grabbing the strawberry one and opening the packet, rolling it down Logan’s dick. The elder relaxes back into the pillows at the touch, watching as Patton’s head sinks between his thighs. His hands grip the sheets at the warmth and wet, trying his best to keep his hips pinned firmly to the bed as Patton finishes him off, head bobbing up and down his cock. 

It doesn’t take much longer for Logan to finish, gasping out Patton’s name like a prayer as he shifts his hips just a little into the other man’s mouth. As he reaches his climax, Patton looks up at him through long lashes and that image is really all he needs to be pushed straight over the edge. 

He lies back, running a hand through his sweat-slicked hair as he smiles up at Patton, the younger crawling up his body to press a kiss to his lips before the two set about chucking the condoms in the bin and getting a shower. 

Logan doesn’t quite think he’s ever liked someone as much as he likes Patton. Although the sex has done wonderful things for his Dopamine levels, he doesn’t think it’s the sex that makes him feel this way; no it’s more to do with the fact that Patton is currently dancing around the bathroom wearing nothing but his underwear whilst singing along to music that logan has never heard before but has decided he loves. And there’s his smile. And his eyes. And how his hair seems even curlier after sex. 

Logan just...really likes Patton. 

--

Ko-Fi ((Please if any of u can donate I would be very much thankful, u can also commission work off of me))

[omgviolette12]

After Hours- Chapter 10

Previous Chapter

Summary: Evelyn Monroe has been a TA for professor Laufeyson’s Calculus course for four months now. He was known to be quite strict, but that never deterred her from applying for the position in order to be close to the man she had been secretly pining for. One evening, she returns to his office after opening hours… and with her bountiful luck, she walks in on something not meant to be seen.

Chapters: 10?

Words: 2800+

Warnings: None

Tags:  @milkymaidme @dangertoozmanykids101@alexakeyloveloki @little-moonbeam-666  @marvel-ous-fics@clovermariear@lynnesm@bitchyikes@moon-child-of-a-poet, @allthecraftandthings@bubblegumspitt @shockwavee @blondekel77 @nerd–nirvana @valdemarismynonbinarylove@nightrose64 @pastelhexmaniac @iistormii

If you’d like to be added, let me know. I’ve also posted this on AO3

____________

It took a moment for Evelyn to realize what was happening.

He had a detrimental effect on her, this man - the warmth of his tongue that explored her mouth, the harsh grip on her jaw, and the growing heat in her body left her dim-witted to her surroundings.

She had no choice but to reciprocate the kiss, until he willingly broke apart from her. As soon as he did, her hand automatically flew to cover his mouth in bewilderment and panic, adrenaline pumping her veins.

“What… what are you doing?! We’re in the blasted hallway!” She panted breathlessly, her wide hazel irises meeting the dark, lust blown ones of her lover. What was with him, popping in out of nowhere, and then kissing her randomly without so much as a hello?

Loki merely quirked a brow in reply, as her hand still obstructed him from speaking coherently.

Evelyn yelped when she felt his tongue lick the inside of her palm, the action catching her completely off-guard. She withdrew her hand from his mouth in a hurry, a dark blush making its way from her neck, and unto her cheeks.

He gave her a wicked, dark smile,“ I haven’t seen you in a while, so I thought a proper greeting was sufficient.”

Evelyn was flabbergasted. “A..greeting? That’s what that was?!” He had the gall to look at her as if she was the strange one, “Is a kiss no longer considered a greeting…?”

“No..I mean - yeah it is, but the way you just -” she paused, the amusement on his face apparent. It took a second for her to realize that he was just messing with her.

Evelyn sighed, her tone filled with indignance as she spoke once more, “What are you doing all the way here? I’m just so confused…”

Loki didn’t answer her immediately. Instead, he tilted his head to peer from their secluded corner, and into the hallway.

Seeing that it was still empty, he took hold of her hand and strolled into the hallway without warning.

He headed rapidly into the direction of the studios, and she struggled to keep up with his brisk pace.

When they finally reached the entrance, it was then that he decided to answer her question in a quiet voice, “I’ve only ever seen you within my classroom, or the confines of my office,” he looked at her, raising a hand to brush an errant curl away from her eye, “So naturally, I wanted to see you in your element. And what kept you away from my office for such a prolonged period of time.”

Evelyn felt herself heating up inexplicably. He came all the way from the science department, a good 10 minute walk, to visit her despite his hectic schedule. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to that sort of attention.

“Sorry for not letting you know what’s up with me, this whole thing is a lot to take in…”

Loki only shook his head, dismissing her apology, “ No need to worry yourself about it, darling. I simply missed your presence."

He stepped further inside the studios, his eyes wandering in search of her work area, "In any case, I'm genuinely curious about your craft. Care to show me?"

Evelyn froze. She thought he just wanted to see her, and not her actual work.

She wasn't usually shy when others saw her drawings or paintings, but Loki was a different story…

She worried he might be overly critical, or not care for her drawings at all. Evelyn valued opinions greatly, so showing him her work that was so personal left a vulnerable, uncomfortable feeling within herself.

Perhaps because of his ‘professor aura,’ he still intimidated her to a large degree.

“Uh...I wasn’t really expecting anyone, so it’s...really messy. Like, very messy. I don’t really paint much interesting things either, so...“

Evelyn tried to muster up some lame excuse, but she knew she had better stop when she was met with a firm, silent look.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, then traipsed nervously in the direction of her little studio as his tall figure loomed behind her.

Thankfully, it was a Thursday, which meant mostly everyone had no classes in her department - so the studios were empty with the exception of the few absorbed in catching up with work. In addition, each student studio consisted of cubicles with tall walls built to hang artwork, so they were mostly obstructed from view.

When they finally reached her studio, Evelyn stepped inside with slow steps, her nervousness extremely palpable by this point.

If Loki sensed it, he chose to ignore it as his attentions were immediately transfixed to the unstretched canvas strung up on the wall.

It was an exceptional rendering of a fantastical, imaginative landscape, with an endless sky and billowing clouds. Vibrant hues of pink, blue, purple and orange swirled across the sky, with the trees and shrubbery reflecting similar shades in their leaves.

Loki could still see it was unfinished, as most of the brown underpainting still shone through, but it captured him nonetheless.

He gathered from her other paintings and drawings that she liked landscapes and nature in general, since that subject matter was the most prevalent in her work. He could also see that most of them had a whimsical, fairy tale like twist to them.

Loki smiled to himself as he perused. He loved learning more things about his little Evelyn, it made her that much more precious.

While Loki silently observed and analyzed, Evelyn was brewing with negative energy behind him. His prolonged silence was slowly killing her inside - the anticipation of his distaste for her paintings now the only thing that occupied her brain.

She got tired of waiting eventually, and blurted out her thoughts, “ I... know I have a lot to improve on...the colors are too weird, right? It looks pretty bad right now, but I’m gonna -“

“Forgive me my dear, but sometimes you ramble on a bit too much,” he cut her off quickly, putting down a loose sketch he picked up from her work table with utmost care, “ You lack much needed confidence. Especially when you’re this talented.”

Loki turned to give her a look, a look that betrayed his most darkest thoughts.

“It would seem that we have to work on that together, don’t you agree?”

Evelyn had to hand it to him. His ability to change the energy in the room from normal to horny was unprecedented.

She coughed lightly, hoping to bring it back to normal, " I'm, I'm sorry - I guess that means you like it, then…?"

"If I didn't, I would have been blunt about it." He stated simply. Her lack of confidence was slowly starting to annoy him, and he couldn't wait to rectify it in private.

Speaking of that...Loki itched to get her well and truly alone. He told her that he would give her time, to let her decide when to take things further...but surely it wouldn't hurt to subtly push things in that direction.

" You may not know this, but I'm actually quite taken with the arts myself," he began casually, “You could say I’m a collector, of sorts. And I happen to be rather fond of your type of work.”

That garnered her attention immediately, “ Wait, really? What other artists do you like, whose art do you have?” Evelyn blurted excitedly, a wide smile on her face. She didn’t know he was an art nerd like herself, and was happy to know they had one more thing in common.

“Among the favorites I’ve collected, it would have to be Georgia O’Keeffe and Thomas Cole,” Evelyn’s mouth widened in disbelief as he continued on, “ I do have some Bob Ross pieces as well, but I wouldn’t say he was a favorite...a bit too kitsch for my taste.”

Evelyn couldn’t comprehend the gravity of what he just said. “You’re...you’re actually being serious? You have an original Thomas cole painting? He’s one of my biggest inspirations! And...and Bob Ross?! Georgia O’Keeffe? Are you sure you aren’t messing with me…?”

“I’m being entirely serious, darling.” Loki did have a rather extensive art collection, but he didn’t know this useless hobby of his would actually work in his favor.

“But...but they’re so expensive! Even reproductions cost a shit ton… and originals are like thousands of dollars!” Evelyn still expressed some doubt. It was too much of a coincidence for it to be actually true. Not to mention, that was an absurd amount of money to be splurging about.

But his car’s fancy as fuck… maybe he’s just rich?

While Evelyn’s face was scrunched up in thought, Loki’s smile took a diabolical turn when he started to speak once more, “ If you’re that doubtful, I’m not opposed to showing you my collection.” His next sentence came off as strangely dark, “And as for their price... when I want something, no amount of anything will stop me from getting it.”

Evelyn’s head immediately shot up, "Wait, you'd really show me…?" Her focus was zoned in on the first sentence, completely ignoring the lustful inclinations of the second, " I wouldn't want to trouble you…it's okay if it's too much of a hassle," Although she said that, her eyes were extremely hopeful.

"Nonsense, it's no trouble at all. Even if it somehow was, I care about your happiness much more."

Evelyn blushed at his words, "...If that's the case, then I'd really appreciate it! Ooh... I'm so excited! Is it okay if I take pictures?"

She was bouncing with radiant energy, her happiness infectious. If Loki had known seeing art would please her this much, he would've suggested it much sooner. He found her reactions to be unbearably cute, especially when her eyes grew wide in disbelief, or excitement.

"Of course, take however many you want. In fact...would you like to see it this Sunday, if your schedule allows? We will have dinner beforehand as well..."

"Yeah yeah yeah! This Sunday's perfect actually! Thank you!"

Without thinking much of it, Evelyn went straight to give him a tight hug in her excitement.

Loki did not expect that from her at all.

He was nearly knocked off balance as Evelyn’s warm body pressed against his. Loki could feel her ample breasts against his chest, the sensation of which aroused him greatly.

He’d never thought his body would react this way from such an innocent gesture on her part - but alas, he desired her to a frightening degree.

Loki cleared his throat and shifted in order to help alleviate the sudden discomfort in that area, but Evelyn took that as a sign that he wanted her to back away.

“Oh - I’m so sorry, I forgot where we were for a sec…” She thought he didn’t agree with the sudden display of affection - despite the fact that he kissed her himself moments before.

However, much to her surprise, Loki pulled her right back into his embrace, “ As long as we’re plainly out of sight, it wouldn’t hurt to sneak in a kiss or hug. I made sure of that earlier as well,”

His tone was very playful and reassuring, and she couldn't help but relax into the hug. She felt extremely paranoid earlier on due to the group chat, but that melted to the back of her mind. As long as they refrained from frisky activities in public, no more problems should arise.

Much to her chagrin, he decided to pull back after a while, placing a kiss on her temple, " Now that my curiosity's been sated, I fear that I have to return."

Evelyn's disappointment showed clearly on her face, but she understood that he had work to return to.

And with a few more parting words, he left her to return in time for his lecture.

Loki was immensely happy he took the risk to visit the art department today - if he didn't, he wouldn't have been able to make such progress in so little time.

Unbeknownst to Evelyn, Loki fully intended to make her truly his this coming Sunday.

His mind went completely rampant with sordid thoughts of what was to come - Her naked, ebony skin dripping with sweat, and the way she would writhe and moan beneath him. He'd be sure to cover her body with bruises as she's restrained by various -

Loki had to stop from going down that train of thought, reminding himself that she may not be reticent to his...darker desires. He'd have to be patient and slow since it would be her first time, but he looked forward to it nonetheless. Sunday couldn't come any sooner.

It was Sunday when it truly began to sink in for Evelyn that she agreed to go on an actual date with her professor-turned-lover.

She honestly only thought about just seeing the collection at first, but then she remembered the second part of his sentence about them having dinner beforehand…

Evelyn didn’t mind spending more time with him at all, it was just that she was extremely unprepared for it.

She barely went out of the house even on holiday break, with either her friends or Candice dragging her out from time to time since she was practically a hermit. In addition, it would actually be the first time she ever went on a date, so she was nervous about that as well.

Evelyn decided to go to Candice for advice once more. She was nervous about her reaction to her newfound relationship with Loki, given that they talked about his sexual escapades prior - but as an adult, she was sure Candice would...get over it.

“You waited THIS... goddamn LONG… to tell me you’ve been shackin' up with professor fine ass?!”

Candice smacked her arm,” Are you outta yo stupid ass mind?”

Evelyn rubbed her arm, eyes narrowing in agitation, “ I didn’t tell you because this is exactly how you’d react. Hittin me n’ shit! Ow…”

Candice tried to calm herself down, “ Look, I got a lot of shit to say about whatever y’all got going on, but it’s honestly not the time, and you’ll do whatever you want anyway,” she sighed, pacing up and down the living room floor, “ Do you even have shit to wear? Were your nails done? Is your hair done? Did you even wax ya coochie?”

Evelyn’s eyes widened, “ I...I gotta do all that? Even the waxing part?”

Candice closed her eyes, “Lord have mercy on me today - YES you fool! You’d really have that man navigate the Amazon jungle? Because I know for a fact you got a whole forest down there.”

Evelyn subconsciously covered her privates, “What! We’re not even doing anything like that...he’s just gonna take me to dinner and show me the art collection…” Evelyn’s voice grew quiet, because she wasn’t even sure herself.

“Well, better be safe than sorry. I’ll even wax it for you and help you get ready. When is he picking you up?”

Evelyn picked up her phone that was beside her on the couch. He texted her earlier that morning about the time, and the form of attire that was expected, “ Uhm, around 7 pm…”

Candice glanced at the time on the tv, “ So we got about 6 hours or so. Come come, get up. We’ll get the wax over with first.”

It was 6 hours later, and Evelyn felt thoroughly violated.

She honestly should’ve skipped the waxing, hairy pussy or not - it hurt like a bitch, and she solemnly vowed never to put herself through that again. Not only that, but she spent nearly 3 hours in Candice’s room to look for an appropriate outfit, one that was apparently nonexistent within her own wardrobe.

In the text, Loki said to just dress casually, so she was going to throw on any dress in her closet. Which worked to set Candice off on another tirade.

So now Evelyn sat on the couch, waiting for his arrival. She did have to hand it to Candice though - she actually liked the outfit she picked out.

It was a black floral bell-sleeved dress, with slits at the sides that exposed the skin of her waist. It had a modest V neckline, and she was grateful that Candice didn't choose a more daring outfit.

She also wore a jean jacket to ward off the spring chill, so she was extremely satisfied. The only discomfort was the dull throb from her nether regions…

Before long, a loud ping came from Evelyn's phone, causing both her and Candice to jump at the sudden sound, "Is it him? What does it say?"

Evelyn was annoyed when others looked over at her phone, so she hid her screen from view, "Can you please back up?!" Kissing her teeth, she looked back at the screen to see the message.

I've just arrived. I can't wait to see you, love.

She stared at the message for a long moment, before standing up on shaky legs.

Well...here goes nothing.

________________

A/N:

*crosses fingers for smut next chapter*

Thank you all once again for the comments, they seriously make my day. Blown away by the support!

Bonus picture : Evelyn's date fit, minus the jacket - https://imgur.com/a/xYHdHx5 Photo cred: kishmycurls