#it's all just sooo cozy and sweet

[suis0u]

I saw on instagram that you are playing Coral Island. Is it good?

Ehhh... I love it so far, so yes. In my opinion it's very good. But it's the first game of this cozy-farming-genre I've every played, so I can't say how it's holding up to games like Animal Crossing or Stardew Valley and such.

[skenpiel]

it was raining so i made warm milk and sat on the porch………. perfect timing btw bc after like 5 minuted our neighbors cat walked up and cuddled with me. then we sat in silence for over an hour it was nice

[seraphdreams]

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

"TO SEE WHAT YOUR INSIDES LOOK LIKE." | GHOSTFACE!ARMIN ARLERT.

𓏲 ��₊♡𓂃 — word count. 4.6k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. fem!reader, smut, modern au, mentions of murder / death / blood, fingering, armin’s a creep, symbolism, noncon/dubcon, insanity, manipulation, monomania, creampie, knives, stalking. mdni <3.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. armin’s worked hard to build up his perfect life, and he certainly wasn’t expecting for someone to rip that from under him. he’s obsessed — with a life that isn’t his.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! we are sooo back n in full swing for kinktober this year !! i’ll drop my masterlist here for all the prettie dolls to check out … please show this some love by reblogging / sharing, it’ll mean the absolute world 2 me !! kk, luv ya, bye ♡

Armin Arlert. Age 23. Graduated from Shiganshina University.

Armin Arlert, starting his new life under a freshly installed roof that rivaled his dorm of the past four years and provided him with much needed privacy. Armin Arlert, with a degree in humanitarian affairs accompanied with a promising future ahead, it’s the life he deserved after the turbulent destruction that was his tragic past. He could start over now in high hopes of making a name for himself in this unfamiliar city. Nothing could stop him, or the unperturbed spout of elation percolating within.

Aside from optimism, though, he remained undoubtedly sure that the life he had curated for himself was one that no other could outclass. He was smart — spent his days in libraries, in his study room, reading about anything that satiated his appetite for enlightenment, and be that as it may, he wasn’t looking for a lover. His solace brought him far better pleasure than any person could possibly imagine.

He’d work, research, and then work some more, day in and day out. And the day of your meeting was no different.

He had decided to utilize the time he carved out of his restless schedule for a much needed re-read of his favorite book. Moments like these were significant to Armin; the pungent aroma of freshly brewed tea in his mug, luminescence dim in the apartment, and a faint timbre of violins that spilled from his speaker.

Moments like these were when he couldn’t keep track of how many hours had passed him by as he flipped page by page into whatever universe his books had drawn him into.

Rested against the kitchen counter with his novel in one hand and retrieving a sip from his beverage in the other, his eyes scanned the piece of literature. Every once and awhile, he’d shift his weight from his left hip to the right, or opt to sit on the cozy loveseat in his study. All without withdrawing his attention from his book.

Glasses low on the bridge of his nose, he gently pushed them up — Then it came. The sonority of his doorbell, jostling him out of his serene thoughts and the inquisitiveness that flowed through his veins soon after, urged his body to tread to the front door in search of the cause.

As his footfall led him closer to the handle of the door, he could make out a silhouette, seemingly of a woman. All inquisitions of who could be at his doorstep were fulfilled once he opened it and you stood, with a bright smile on your face.

Armin’s angelic features hidden underneath a veil of golden blond tresses accentuated his soft, azure-hued eyes. His face was one of few that aided you in comfort just upon first glance, which chased away the unease of the possibility that he could’ve been ill-tempered.

“Hi, I’m Y/N! I moved in next door,” You pointed your thumb in the direction beside you as if to signal which side of the building you’d be occupying. “I just thought I'd introduce myself,”

He matched your syrupy sweet beam with one of his own, the corners of his eyes turning upward in tandem as if they were smiling too. He held the door open slightly wider to catch a better glimpse of you. From your attire, he could discern that you weren’t much of a modest girl, but it’d be wrong of him to idly make assumptions. Especially when his choice of dress during the lax hours of the day were a white button-up, cashmere cardigan thrown atop, with a pair of tan slacks.

“Y/N?” He repeated, in a manner to affirm that he had heard correctly. “I’m Armin. It’s nice to meet you,”

He would’ve held his hand out for yours had it not been engaged by his book. You weren’t trying to pry, yet the cover of the story was lucid in your mind once you took notice. “Berenice? The Edgar Allan Poe novel?”

His eyes trailed to where your manicured nail was pointed. The rosy flush of his cheeks deepened while he rubbed away the discomfiture stirring at the back of his neck. Once again, he had mindlessly brought his book with him wherever he strode.

“Y-Yeah, It’s my favorite. Have you read it?”

“A few times,” You hummed, meeting his sheepish gaze. “It’s so jarring, right?”

Armin skimmed over your face before allowing himself to speak. “But there’s beauty in the madness,” His words trolled over in a more weighty tone than he had intended, an apologetic smile on his face once he caught wind.

“Or at least that’s how i interpret it,”

His outward timidity roused an endearing chuckle from you. “I truly don’t mean to bother you, though. If you need anything I'm on your right!” You retort with a vague inclination of haste.

Truth be told, Armin’s interest in you piqued with the mention of the Poe story. “Oh, you’re not a bother-”

His vocables fell short against your own when you waved him goodbye, and he mirrored your actions with cordiality in his eyes.

Maybe she’s just busy.

—

Ever since Armin’s first encounter with you, he had found himself taking a rather atypical interest in the relations of you. The first bout of instances being regular events of curiosity where he’d watch as the moving company aided you in getting your belongings settled; hauling in furniture and appliances, all while Armin remained under the guise of checking his mailbox. Over a short span of time, though, he found himself increasingly knowledgeable in the subject that was you.

You showered at 8:00pm. You ate dinner at 7:00pm. The alarm settled on your desk, a few feet beyond your bed would go off at 6:00am sharp, and he’d be up at that same dawning hour to anticipate your departure to work.

He knew these things. Of course, he did.

He memorized all of your schedules to calculate what you’d be doing throughout the day, and where.

His own work was slow for him during those days, and books didn’t seem to capture that spark of exhilaration like you did. For once, he felt enthralled by each day granting him an opportunity to analyze you further.

On another day, he’d built up enough confidence to observe you as you came home from work, once more, under the false assumption that he’d been checking his mail.

“Good afternoon.”

Armin’s voice registered within your being quickly, startling you out of your fast-paced strut to your door. “Oh, good afternoon!” Your footfall faltered until you reached a close. “Armin, was it?”

Over Armin’s time of stalking- no, studying you, he’d come to realize just how ethereal you were. It was as if the deities above handmade every feature on your face, curve of your body, lilt in your voice with the intention of making you one of their own — an angel.

He found you charming.

With a nod of his head, he braced himself to inch toward you. Not proximal enough to cause you discomfort, he wouldn’t want that, yet enough to signal his unwavering immersion. “Did you just come from work?”

It was otiose of him to ask the question seeing as he undeniably knew the answer. Judging from your business attire and pencil skirt just a little too short for any other establishment’s dress standards, he had assumed you worked a kushy job at an office firm. You evidently earned a heap of money, with him recalling the numerous occasions you’d come home with luxury shopping bags hanging off your arms, tied in with the fact that the suites he inhabited weren't exactly affordable for the average person.

You responded hospitably to his question, that same lovely smile poured over your features and seeping into his personage. “Mhm, and what about you? Your work?”

He was surprised at your need to pull the conversation along further, it was as if you were succoring to curate his plans, as if you could read his mind and pick out from a haystack that you were his only interest, you were his source of bliss. A serendipitous moment, indeed. He straightened himself up, clearing his throat. “Me? Oh, well I just help out at charities and organizations from time to time,”

He’d be a fool to deny the set of wide eyes that were fixated upon his figure.

“For real? You must be a really good person then.” You responded with your hands clasped together and held against your chest, pupils of your eyes glittered in a sense of unshakable admiration.

As the conversation went on, you had begun to synonimize your neighbor with the fresh, and comforting feeling of congeniality. It helped that he was easy to converse with, seeming as he’d always been listening while keeping eye contact and rewiring his queries in a way that deemed you the main focus, and he, a vessel for your words to absorb within.

For Armin, he enjoyed getting to know you. You were perfect, in all the best ways.

And soon enough, through an exhausting series of prying inquiries, he’d piece together that your perfection wasn’t hulled along by determination or strong will, but by God’s good grace. He’d come to register that you didn’t have to struggle like he did to reach the triumphant point in life for which he stood. You were born that way, born with a silver spoon in your mouth and just the right kiss-ass people in your life to keep you that way. A spoiled fucking brat.

What had been the rationale behind his suffering? The years in which he’d been bullied repeatedly in public schools, had acquaintances that had only cared about him for their personal gain, and parents so utterly vapid that they’d give up their only child if it meant they could continue working towards an unattainable goal?

Fueled by a sense of jealousy, he waned your nepotism a hindrance. You were merely a telescope that he wanted so badly to see into.

For Armin was obsessed with a life that wasn’t his.

Meticulously, he had spent his time after that hidden away within his flat. Armin didn’t care to know anything more about you, he didn’t care to see your face, and he surely didn’t care for you.

When he stumbled across an unkempt, unpacked box in his room with the label of “Uni 2019,” written on the side in thick, inky letters, his concern led him to relive those memories upon removing the cardboard lid.

In it, there were polaroid photos, compact trophies he’d won from participating in school events, courtesy of his STEM minor, and a dark piece of fabric that caught his eye more than anything.

He recalled his first year of college where his two closest friends, Eren and Mikasa, dragged him out of their stuffy shared dorm and onto one of the first parties held by the school’s fraternity house during the fall semester.

“Armin, you look ridiculous,”

Mikasa said as she stomped away in her leather boots, leading the way for the two men accompanying her to follow her off-campus.

She was dressed in homage to Misa Amane from her favorite anime, although the style of dress aided no significance since it was hauntingly similar to her everyday wardrobe.

Eren was intended to show up as “Light” but he insisted on wearing something he deemed appealing, his plan was to get initiated by the end of the night, anyhow. He wore a deep black cloak, dark ripped jeans and had his hair tied aimlessly into his warped perception of a bun, with the mask of a ghost facing sideways on his head to allow for him to see.

Ghostface. Scream (1996).

Armin allowed himself to be pulled away by the Ackerman, his rebuttal falling on deaf ears. “You didn’t give me enough time, Mika. This is all I could come up with.” Armin’s poor excuse for a costume was tissue paper wrapped around his frame in stereotypical mummy fashion, a classic of all classics.

Though, that night had concluded like any other gathering involving college-aged students, the trio having woken up to hangovers and bad decisions.

Armin stared at the contents of the box a while longer before taking the cloak out and trying it on for size. Obviously, it was meant for a taller person, but regardless, the wheels in his head gradually spun.

He took it off after careful observation when the sensation of juvenility filled his veins. He wasn’t fond of the costume rousing the impression that he was an illegitimate killer — He knew more than he let on, and his passion for the grotesqueries scribed in his books further proved that.

Concurrently, you had been pondering the reason for Armin’s disappearance. After your last conversation with him, he’d stopped formulating ways to talk to you and seemed to never leave his suite, and your heart yearned for his presence once the feeling truly settled in.

You had been swayed by his charm.

His dulcet tone of voice, the intriguing quirks that seemed to hang off of him like leaves to a tree; You missed the way he cared for you, through mundane matters and the like.

Night had fallen, the warm, ochre hues of the day meshing in perfect balance with deep purple tones that signified time’s passing. You were settling into bed, just about ready to fall into slumber when you heard light tapping at your door.

Only for a second did the thought of who could possibly be up this late float through your mind.

Your soles kissed the floor when you made your way to the front door. And once you finally opened it, the sight of your worst fear was drawn to life — The deviant sight of the unknown, with what seemed to look like a kitchen knife in its right hand.

Quickly, without time to react, you attempted to slam the door shut with the force of your shoulder but the action proved futile when the aggressor’s strength pushed back against the wood, sending you stumbling backwards and vulnerable to any attack.

Heavy footsteps creeped eerily towards you out of something from a horror film. Your worst mistake was turning your back, scrambling for a way to retrieve your phone, or even a weapon.

“Help! He-”

The stranger was more agile than you had assumed, easily capturing you with one arm around your waist and its hand cupped against your mouth. You couldn’t shake the terror growing within you as hot tears seemed to spill down your cheeks and your heartbeat so intense, you were sure that it’d had been noticeable.

Your body soft in the assaulter’s touch, they embraced your body taut. The sensation was suffocating, your eyes squeezed shut to further distance yourself from the situation at hand, even if it was only a mental trick.

You resided in a relatively safe area, so why were you in this situation? What cruel joke were you the target of?

The grip on your body loosened ever so slightly, yet you were still fixed in place by the attacker’s opposite hand. While your body was immobilized, you felt the lingering of metal lightly drag against your abdomen to find itself settled just underneath the band of your lace pajamas.

Just moments prior, you had completed your elaborate nightly routine consisting of a glass of wine, face mask, and a warm bath. You also found it fitting to change into one of your newer pajama sets — Thin, baby pink, lace bralette with matching shorts that called for forgoing the need for panties.

All you wanted was to wake up from this nightmare.

“It’d be so beautiful if you died right here in my arms,” Your assailant spoke.

Through your ears, his voice was familiar. A tone so soft, you refused to believe the possibility of who it’s owner could be.

His hand over your mouth was hesitant to situate itself elsewhere in wariness of how you’d react. He was aware of the power behind a blood-curdling scream. The neighbors in this area were nosy. He would know.

He let out a sigh. “But you look really pretty tonight. I wouldn’t want to get blood on you,” His knife trailed further into your shorts, the edge cutting out a hole in the fabric at the seat of the garment.

“Did you do all this for me?”

You winced when the sonority of cloth ripping resonated through your ears. The blade felt dangerously close, running along your body as if to taunt you. That had to be the case; You were in the perfect position to be harmed, so why hadn’t your attacker done so? With your body stricken from fear, his job was easy. Was it not?

The hand over your mouth moved to caress your face and you gasped heavily for the air you were denied.

“W-What do you want?” Your voice echoed shakily throughout the room, barely audible enough for the two of you to hear. His knife inched upward to your sternum, and slowly dragged itself back down to your abdomen as he spoke.

“To see what your insides look like.”

For a split second, his hold on you seemed to diminish, granting you the perfect opportunity to run. Yet, your legs felt frail as if there were weights tied to your ankles. The assailant quickly repositioned himself in front of you, his head tilting slightly while he continued his up and down ministrations with the edge of the blade gingerly pressed against your flesh. Not forceful enough to draw blood.

“But maybe now, I want to feel your insides,” His steps crept closer, and instinctively you tried to create as much distance as possible by stepping back. It proved useless when your back hit the cold surface of the door, his face mere centimeters from yours.

Your breath hitched as you found comfort in the presence of the door, leaning against it as if it’d keep you from harm’s reach. You fidgeted, fumbling to grasp at the handle that’d grant you escape. The masked man took notice, hovering over your frame to keep you from trying anything.

“Please- -” Your plea fell in the form of a choked up whimper, just the sound he wanted to hear.

More uncomfortable ripping was sounded when his blade etched a perfect cut in your shorts, leaving your bare cunt out on display for his eyes to see. “Don’t be shy, pretty. I’m sure lots of guys have seen you like this. Am I right?”

Crudeness started to sink in as your face morphed into a contradictory pout. He took your expression for a no and chuckled genuinely, albeit louder than his previous tone. “No? Does this make me the first?” His eyes scanned your lower half once more, then flit back to meet your fear-blown orbs.

“I’d really love to be your first,”

Having grown confident enough to be sure that you wouldn’t try to break free, he dropped the knife to the side, metal clamorously clinking against hardwood flooring while he used his free hand to lift your right leg over the juncture of his elbow. He carefully slotted his middle and ring fingers into your hole, shallowly pumping. Your legs threatened to close with what you couldn’t make of embarrassment or denial.

Your mind felt cloudy once your body gave up its immobility and allowed pleasure to course through your veins, heat rushing to your core with every pump of his fingers. He took notice of the way your expression hastily contorted into one of pure pleasure, eyebrows knit together and your mouth slightly agape, eliciting quiet moans to tumble past.

It was a whorish sight, indeed. A circumstance you couldn’t control with your death at the forefront, yet it was terrifyingly easy to succumb to the euphoric sensation building up within you. The pad of his thumb found its way to your aching clit, and from just the light circling motions in tandem with his fingers, you felt yourself floating to the cusp of release.

“F-Fuck- -“ you rasped. Your hand reached out for his wrist to push him away but the attempt was futile and in turn, he sped up his ministrations.

“Didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth. You’re making me lose interest.” He coyly teased.

He was thankful you couldn’t see how flushed his face appeared under the mask. The sight of you spread open for him was too much to bear, he could cum in that moment without ever feeling your gummy walls wrapped around his painstakingly hard cock.

Just before you were about to hit your orgasm, he pulled his fingers away. An agitated groan rumbled from your throat, eyes finally opening to the sight of the man before you, removing his mask and unveiling his true identity.

Something within you didn’t want to admit what you had seen.

From the golden strands of hair that shimmered against the moonlight to his cyan-hued orbs tinted dark with madness. It was Armin, but it wasn’t Armin.

“M-Min.. You —“ The words failed to leave your mouth in a coherent string of sentences. It couldn’t have been your neighbor, not Armin. He was far too delicate, too feeble to carry out a task like this.

He kept unwavering eye contact with you, your pupils shaking from shock. “Hm? Couldn’t see a thing with this mask on,” His response was that of nonchalance, his hand coming to caress your tear-stained cheeks.

“You’re much prettier behind the mesh.”

He pulled down the zipper of his slacks along with the garment itself and his briefs, just enough so that his cock was freed. You didn’t want to look, but you did. You notice how bulbous the head was, glowing a bright pink while the rest of it was pretty girthy as well. It bobbed under its weight, the strings of precum leaking onto your inner thighs as he lined it up with your entrance.

“Why would y—“

Just before you could get the vocables out, he pushed his entire length inside of you, head tilted back and adam’s apple bouncing with each groan he let out. You felt as though you were being split open by how fat his cock was, how it glided effortlessly in and out of your heat.

His pace was tauntingly slow as if he’d shoot his load prematurely. Once he gradually thrusted more vigorously though, you found it hard to keep whimpers at bay. Each push in felt deeper than the last, the wind within your system struggling to keep you afloat. You reached for something to hold onto, scrambling for Armin’s shoulders in the end. Your nails dug deep at the lean muscles of his back, creating raw, catlike scratches on the flesh.

The pain was enough to make him smile. Or maybe it wasn’t the pain, but the sight of you so desperate for him — So desperate for your killer.

How pathetic.

He leaned himself upward to meet your gaze again, that of something from a horror movie, his gaze was darker than before, strung together by a serious expression. “Kiss me.”

You almost didn’t hear him as your impending orgasm was your only focus. When you took too long to respond, he glanced back at the knife settled just underneath his foot, in a manner to remind you of the real dangers he was capable of.

With the slightest inclination of hesitancy, your lips met his. Contrary to his actions, his kisses were soft, sloppy, and hungry, as if he were craving you. He hooked his arms beneath your knees to hoist you up and against him.

Deeper. You whimpered into his kisses wondering how his cock fucked into you deeper. He slammed your body down onto his length, using your body like it was a toy. You pulled away from the kiss, heaving for air as your head fell upon his shoulder. “Gonna cum, ‘m so close!” Your words slurred, and before you knew it, your essence came in waves, each aftershock more jolting than the last.

He continued pounding into you, shifting his position to hold you up against the wall. Your pleasure reverberated in the form of an inaudible cry while you allowed for the bullying of his cock in your cunt. It was evident to you that he was close from the way his features were etched in pure ecstasy.

Armin looked pretty like that — Wisps of tawny bangs messily splayed across his forehead from perspiration and a light tinge of scarlet dusted across his nose and cheeks, up to the tips of his ears. His soft, rosy lips were slickened with the mixture of your wet kiss and his.

“Oh, God-”

The guttural groan he let out had your walls clamping down taut around him. “Cum for me again—Shit! Say my name,”

The stamina he retained came as unexpected to you, your overstimulated heat trying to find pleasure in the way it’s being battered up. He spoke again, this time with a docile lilt in his tone.

“Tell me you’re mine, Y/N. I wanna be yours.”

You didn’t want to. You were beyond opposed to feeding into his hedonistic delusions, especially in the impuissant state that you were in. Yet, you couldn’t stop the affirmations from flowing once another orgasmic high coiled up in your core.

“Armin! ‘M yours! All yours,”

Just as soon as your words circulated through his mind, he felt his balls tighten, his thrusts faltering in potency as he reached closer to his high.

In his mind, it was profoundly amorous that you both had hit euphoria simultaneously, warm ropes of his sticky seed painting your walls while he shallowly jettisoned every last drop. Your womb was the goal, and he had scored.

He was tentative to pull out, wanting to relish in the warmth of your core for as long as he possibly could but he knew the idea wouldn’t be feasible. “You’re so good. I mean, you listen so well,”

He delicately placed you back on your feet, your body lax in his hold. “Thank you!” He beamed, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze.

“Thank you for what?” You responded, your eyes searching for anything else to focus on as you gained enough strength to separate yourself from him, even if it was just a few inches.

“You helped me,”

You couldn’t make sense of the nonsense coming out of his mouth nor his need to be a hair's breadth away from you at all times.

“You helped me realize I never wanted to hurt you,” His hands found their place at your waist, softly running along the curve. “I just wanted to be inside you.”

“No, you wanted to kill me.” You spoke in a more conflicted tone, wondering if the gears in his head were turning at all. He chuckled, creating a few inches of distance between the two of you.

“I mean, I did at first. I was jealous, Y/N,” His voice sounded like that of a beg. “You have such a perfect life and I want it — I want to be in it.”

You couldn’t bear to listen to anymore of his twisted thoughts, feeling the heavy coat of uncomfortability weighing your shoulders down. “Armin, you’re crazy.”

“I love you, Y/N. Let me into your life, please?”

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his hands furthering south until they halted at the small of your back.

“I won’t hurt you,”

“I love you.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — @valentinevampyr @oneofthesevensins @iamtrashgod @iconicbabii @inusdoll @kloesklarity @bakuhoe-3 @antistellxr

[predestinatos]

cinnamon taste ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙ — CL16

pairing: charles leclerc x female!reader

summary: your best friend showing up at your apartment isn't the only surprise you had that day

tags: best friends to lovers, giddy and shy charles, sooo much fluff, christmas vibes, improvised and creative mistletoe confession

words: 2.6k

note: someone requested something along these lines and i had sooo much fun writing it!! my heart is full and warm... rlly hope u guys like it too and happy holidays for those who celebrate

The scent of cinnamon and apple filled your lungs as you entered your apartment door. You congratulated yourself on the good choice of incense, apparently, but also punished yourself for seemingly leaving the music on while you were out. Jazz-y Christmas songs were playing softly, your living room feeling like a daydream of warmth and coziness.

But that dream was soon shattered upon the realization that you had brought your phone with you – there was no way it was still connected to Bluetooth. Someone was in your house.

Before you had time to panic as you removed your gloves and jacket, a figure appears before you and spins you in the air, embracing you tightly. At first, you screamed, terrified. But then the figure placed you on the floor, continuously repeating “it’s me it’s me I’m sorry” while giggling.

You immediately recognized the voice – your best friend was wrapped in an apron, glasses on and remnants of flour on his messy brown locks. Immediately, your heart went from racing to galloping, fear replaced by happiness. However, before you could show the good part, you punched him slightly in the chest, the hit clearly not producing any sort of damage. “You are such an idiot, Charles! You almost killed me” you said, although a smile was creeping in your lips and eyes as he pulled you for a hug.

Despite how long you’ve known each other, the hugs always felt the same: earnest, meaningful, his heart beating next to your ear, hands wrapped around you like a warm caress. It felt like this when you were 10 and played together, when you were 15 and snuck out together, and now this. You weren’t expecting to see him, especially not this close to Christmas day.

“I thought I’d do something with the spare key you gave me when I crashed here for a few weeks,” he said, as if reading your thoughts, already jumping between wondering how he got in and when he did it. His eyes, filled with affection, seemed simultaneously nervous, registering your face as if in analyzing it carefully.

Before you had time to ask, he pulled your arm and guided you to the kitchen – your own kitchen – warmly telling you “I have a surprise.” You followed him and as you entered the small marble kitchen, the scent hit you even harder. It smelt of comfort, of a cozy campfire feeling, of sweet bakeries opened and filled with decorations, all inside your house. The kitchen itself was slightly messy, hinting at its use, and Charles stood in it proudly, grabbing some mittens to remove the delicious smelling content from the oven.

They were cookies, made in all possible shapes and sizes – some unidentifiable, as he clearly did them by hand. The image of them filled your heart, your best friend placing them on the counter as he checked if they were ready to be eaten, almost like a postcard waiting to be stilled in time. “For how long are you staying?” you asked, afraid of the answer.

That fear proved itself right as you saw his expression change suddenly, the smile leaving his eyes and remaining only on his lips, an attempt at feigning comfort where there could possibly be none. “The day after tomorrow” he said, after a small cough, acting as if it was nothing, trying to lessen the pain of not knowing when you’d see him again.

Just for that moment, you decided to shrug it off as well, to ignore the elephant in the room that were the less than 48 hours you had to enjoy each other’s company, the knowledge that the old times of friendship won’t come back. “Better eat all of those until then!” you said, in your best effort to showcase as little sadness as possible.

You opened one of your cabinets and removed two mugs from it, one of them farther away than expected. On your tiptoes, you reached for the red mug with a big C on it, with “clumsy” written underneath in small letters. It was reserved especially for Charles, a small part of him that remained untouched from the moment he left and would only be touched again when he came back – which wasn’t often. Upon seeing it, his smile lit up once again, dimples showing on his slightly flushed cheeks, his upper arm reaching to fix the glasses he was wearing as his hands were busy sprinkling cinnamon all over the biscuits.

Placing the just made hot chocolate on the small glass coffee table in your living room, you waited for Charles, who showed up holding a plate decorated with all of his creations, which he placed next to your mugs.

You wrapped around blankets as you sat on the floor, mimicking simpler times, nostalgia running through your veins as the liquid you drank ran through your throats. Charles’ eyes scanned your living room again, “did you decorate this all by yourself?” he asked, as he analyzed the matching patterns in your white Christmas tree and how well they fit with the honey tones of the decorations scattered carefully around the room.

“Depends,” you replied, smiling, “Do you like it?” He looked at you then, the same nervousness returning to his cheeks, red from something that couldn’t be the cold, given the warmth inside your apartment. For the first time since you knew him, his eyes studied your face in a way that made you look away timidly. “Yes it’s amazing” he replied, answering the question as a way to break the sudden tension, but creating an opposite effect.

“A friend helped me” you confessed to him, shrugging. “I don’t think you know him, he-” you were about to begin, but Charles’ eyes shot to you and then quickly to the content inside his mug, fidgeting as he did so. “He and his girlfriend, love decorations and had some extra stuff from their last year so they added a lot to this” you explained, emphasizing the word ‘girlfriend’ as if it needed to be, as if you owed your best friend an explanation or seal of approval that you weren’t aware of until now. You knew it was necessary, however, when you saw his shoulders relax at your words, chest rising and falling softly underneath his sweater.

You rested your head against his shoulders reassuringly, letting him know that he wouldn’t miss any detail of your life, that you’d always make sure to update him on everything. You weren’t sure that’s what he wanted but you hoped he would understand the sentiment behind it, and you were sure he did when he laid a soft kiss on the top of your head.

His body smelled of cinnamon itself, sweet and lovely, and you couldn’t help but pull him closer by the arm, feeling his warmth which you hadn’t for so long. “I missed you, Charlie” you said, smiling to yourself. “Me too, silly” he replied whilst slowly pushing you away and getting up. “Which reminds me, I have something for you.”

You looked up at your best friend, feeling the cold spot from where he previously was, as he ran hurriedly to one of your spare rooms – which could be called his room since that was all the use it had. “Why don’t you just give it to me and I’ll open on Christmas? I don’t want to jinx it!” you yelled from your sitting place, biting one of the tree-shaped biscuits he had prepared, amazed at its taste and softness.

he came back holding a small box in his hands, carefully wrapped and decorated with a red ribbon at the top. Pride was written all over his smile and gaze as he sat down in front of you, handing you the present as he grabbed one of his own biscuits. “Because,” he said, in between bites “this is very important and urgent” he continued, giggling excitedly. You could tell from his tone that his voice was overly excited, almost acting, but you didn’t want to push him, not when he stared at you anxiously, eyes big and expectant like a puppy. His giggles were quickly replaced by sudden seriousness as soon as your hands started unwrapping the present carefully, not even wanting to ruin the package.

You were faced with a box, beautiful and cushioned, its surface gorgeously reminding you of wine nights with the company of the man who seemed not to be able to sit still in front of you. “Open it” he said, swallowing hard and nervously, leaning closer and closer with your every movement. You complied, your own curiosity threatening to jump out of your mouth, hands shaking as Charles’ own breath seemed almost irregular.

Inside it, you saw a delicate crystal, green, red and clear, in the shape of a plant. Not a plant – mistletoe. It glistened beautifully and its fragility fascinated you. It was beautiful, and you remained speechless as you examined it. “Charlie it’s-” you started, though you had no words to describe what you were feeling. Of course, the gift was absolutely mesmerizing, a small token that was impossible to not notice. Yet, you didn’t exactly know what it meant.

Charles gave you no time to think about it before he moved awkwardly, getting closer to you, closer than usual even for you two. “Listen, I… Do you want to hang it somewhere?” he said, the question so sudden, like a window that opened quickly and let all the cold wind inside the room. You looked into his eyes and found yourself still unable to speak, resorting to a simple nod as you got up, the box still resting in your hands, and he followed your movements.

You decided to hang it carefully in one of the tallest branches of your Christmas tree, where the lights hit beautifully and made it the centerpiece, stealing all the attention from the star at the top. “It’s beautiful” you finally managed to say, along with an earnest thank you, and you were about to turn back to the warm blanket when his fingertips stopped you by softly resting on your wrist.

“Wait,” he started, barely moving. All movement you could witness came from his nostrils as he exhaled deeply, his gaze completely focused on you. “I need to tell you something” he continued, looking up at the gift he had just given you. Following his gaze, you realized what he meant. “Oh. Oh this was for someone else- it’s fine Charlie mistakes happen-” you began, rising to your tiptoes in order to remove the ornament, almost laughing at your own silliness.

Once again that night, Charles stopped you, laughing warmly. “God, you’re so silly sometimes,” he told you, and despite the cold toned color of his eyes, they expressed such warmth it took your breath away. “No, this gift is for you. That’s what I mean,” he said, stumbling across his every word, “I gave you this because you’re the one I want to experience this with. The whole mistletoe kissing thing. Maybe this is silly…” his hand flew to his neck awkwardly, reminding you of when he was younger and in high school, trying to impress some girl he had a crush on.

You weren’t exactly sure what he meant, nor what it could mean for your friendship in general. But you were sure you wanted to experience that moment with him as well, feel him closer to you than you ever did, your every muscle begging you to act. “Do it then” you dared him, your own nervousness coming out. You thought about how silly it was, your nervousness, given how old you two were, how much you had witnessed together, the moment so out of the ordinary yet seemingly so predictable, as if it was destined to happen.

At that, Charles’ eyes widened, but his whole body went into action. His hand went to your cheek as the other pulled you by your waist, eyes falling on your lips as if everything moved in slow motion. You placed your own hands on his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat as his lips fell on yours, so soft and familiar despite how unknown it all was. The sudden smell of chestnuts and ginger intensified as the room seemed to transform, how despite the warmth you almost felt snow falling on both of your bodies. Charles couldn’t get enough of you, his hand going from your cheek to the back of your neck, begging you for more, for the moment to last for as long as possible.

Like a magnet, your own hands caressed and pulled his hair incessantly, reassuring him that you weren’t going anywhere, as his heartbeat stabilized in calmness and comfort in how well your lips fit on his. His closeness was intoxicating, and you felt dizzy from how good you were feeling with his sheer presence, how right everything seemed to feel, how effortlessly he got you in your best mood.

Pulling away, you saw a smile which you had rarely seen in Charles’ face. It happened at his most happiest moments – when he won races, when he beat you at rock paper scissors when you were kids, when he got the best scores in spelling bees – it reached every muscle in his body and yours, so contagious was his cheerfulness.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he said, giddy and red from shyness, looking so innocent all of a sudden, despite his grip still on your waist. “I’ve been so confused, especially since the last time I stayed over. No one can make me feel like you do, and this is so hard to explain, and I don’t know how it got to this point but I have been thinking about it every day, about how good I feel when I am with you, how I just get so incredibly happy and-” you quieted his rambling by giving him a shy peck on his lips, giggling at how he stood motionless after it, eyes widened and eyebrows raised.

“I love you too” you told him, meaning every word, anxiously looking forward for the rest of your life.

[kteezy997]

Hi! Could you do one with female reader and Timmy are dating for a while, then he ends up taking her virginity but he’s sooo sweet about it?

Feel free to play with the story line as you wish!

Thanks!! ☺️

the first time, part one//t.c.

Warnings: fluff, virgin reader (obvi), smut, female receiving oral sex, mention of cum, unprotected sex

This is a long one, js.

The last few months of dating Timothée were the happiest you had ever been. You’d fallen so hard for him; he was sweet and gentlemanly, but never corny. He was everything you wanted in a partner, and even more: kind, smart, funny, and dedicated to his work. Even when he had a million things going on in his mind, he still made you feel like the only woman in the world. You were so proud to be his.

He had been away for a couple of weeks as he had begun filming his long-awaited Bob Dylan biopic. You were so happy for him as he had been preparing for the role for literally years, and you knew he was absolutely in his element on that set.

As proud of him as you were, you couldn’t wait for him to return to you, even if it was only for a short weekend. You had a special plan to show him how serious about him that you were, and how in love you were with him. You were going to give your virginity to him.

Timmy didn’t know that you were a virgin. No one else in your life really knew it either. It wasn’t something you talked about, or really thought much about. You weren’t saving it for any particular reason. It just hadn’t happened. You had never gotten to that place with someone. And you weren’t the ‘one night stand’ type.

You knew that maybe some people would make fun or judge you for being a virgin in your 20s, but you knew Timmy wasn’t like that. He had always been loving and respectful, never putting any pressure on you.

Now you were ready. You wanted this so badly with him. You began to wonder if you had unwittingly been waiting all these years for Timmy specifically. You really felt like he could be the person you’d spend the rest of your life with.

……

That evening, he texted you that he was in an Uber from the airport on the way to your place. You had your lingerie on underneath your cute-yet-comfy clothes. You knew he’d be tired from work and travel, but you hoped he wouldn’t be too tired.

You were sat on the couch, waiting for Timmy and watching a movie. You tried not to think too much about how the night would go. You knew you had no reason to be nervous. Timmy cared about you. He hadn't said the words yet, but he always made you feel loved and desirable, and you were certain that this night would be no different.

The knock on the door finally came, and you hurried to open it up for Timmy.

He looked so cute and cozy in his sweats and ball cap that had a fight on its hands trying to contain his wild, fluffy hair. "Hey, I've missed you." he said, his eyes were sleepy, but he smiled widely. He set his bags down on the floor and threw his long arms around you.

"I missed you too." you cooed, squeezing him back, feeling instant comfort, and you giggled as he lifted you off your feet. His warm lips pressed a kiss to your neck.

Once he set you back down on the floor, your eyes met, and it was electric. You felt butterflies looking into his hazel-green eyes many times before, but this time was a little different. It was much more sensual.

He grinned at you before giving you a sweet, soft kiss in your lips.

You were a little lost in the moment and you forgot your manners, so you offered, “Do you need a drink or anything?”

Timmy shook his head ‘no’ politely, “I’m okay for now.” He looked over to the couch briefly, sighed, “I’m so tired, babe.” He took your hand to lead you to the couch.

You sat with him, and he rested his head on your shoulder. There was no space between the two of you and your hormones were raging with him so close.

“What’re you watching?” he asked, and a small yawn fell from his mouth.

…….

Cuddling and watching the movie was nice, Timmy gradually snuggled his way into your lap. You found yourself caressing his messy curls, running your fingertips idly over the sharp lines of his face.

You really didn’t want him to sleep, but you could tell how exhausted he was. His breathing slowed, he fidgeted less and less. He was like putty in your lap. You looked down and his lashes closed up. He hummed lightly in his sleep.

Defeated, you picked another movie to watch as your boyfriend slept on you.

……..

Timmy stirred after about a thirty-minute nap. Your legs were numbed by the weight of him, but you didn’t mind. He was so cute when he was sleeping.

He turned, eyes opened, and looked up at you, “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna fall asleep on you.” His sleepy voice was so sexy, it made you weak.

“It’s okay. You’ve been really busy lately, I get it.” you gently ran your fingers through his tousled hair.

He sat up, “I know but, it’s our time to be together. I feel bad.”

“Don’t feel bad. You’re awake now. You weren’t out very long.” Now was your chance. You leaned in and caught his lips in a tender kiss. You rested your hand on his neck and moaned ever so lightly into the kiss.

Timmy opened his mouth, inviting your tongue in.

You swiped your tongue into his warm, wet mouth. His arms slid around your body, and he pulled you onto his lap. His hands went to your hips, and he squeezed your flesh there as you straddled him.

You deepened the kiss and held his face in your hands. Your fingers wove into the soft locks behind his ears.

"Mm," Timmy moaned against your lips, pulled away and said, "when you kiss me like that, my dick gets hard."

You grinned, then took his hat off of his head, letting his curls fall free. "I want you, Timmy." you cooed, kissing him again. You felt his hand on your cheek, and he caressed your face. You placed your hands on his chest, letting them roam down the front of his body. His lean figure was firm to the touch.

As you made out with him and shifted in his lap, you could feel that he definitely wasn't lying. You pulled away from his kiss, but he kept you close to kiss and nibble on your neck. You looked down and there was a tent in his sweatpants.

After seeing how strained he was, how ready he was to fuck you, it all became super real. You weren't going to be a virgin after this night. You had to tell him it was your first time.

"Timmy," you began, your hand holding the back of his head as he sucked on your throat.

"Yeah?" he mumbled against your skin. His breath tickled your neck.

"Um, I have to tell you something. It's a little awkward."

"Y/n," he took his mouth off your neck, and leaned back to look at your face, "what do you mean? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, I just wanted to tell you that...I'm a virgin."

"Oh, is that all?" his eyes widened a little, but his expression remained unbothered. "There's nothing awkward about that, baby." he held your face in his hand and kissed your cheek. "Are you scared?" his eyes had become a darker, more serious shade of green.

You shook your head, saying, "No. I'm just ready to be with you."

He smiled and leaned in to touch his forehead delicately to yours. "I'm ready too." He kissed you tenderly, slowly getting on top of you.

You laid down underneath your man and watched him take his shirt off. After, he slid his fingers under the waistband of your pants and pulled them down your legs. He caressed your buttery smooth skin and left little kisses up the way of your legs. He stopped then moved up further, his hands on your hips. He started to kiss your lower tummy, along the line of your panties.

You felt yourself getting wet, and unable to stay perfectly still. You took your shirt off, wanting to feel his warm lips all over your body. As if he could read your mind, he trailed his kisses over your stomach. Your breathing became uneven, his little chin hairs tickled your ribs. His fingers splayed over the narrowest part of your waist; you could feel the callouses on them from his guitar lessons. It was a stark contrast the softness of your skin.

Then, his handsome face was nestled between your breasts, kissing and nibbling your exposed cleavage. He brought his hands up to cup them through your bra.

You moaned, feeling your nipples harden. Your pussy was hot and slick at this point. You locked your legs around Timmy, just needing him as close as possible.

He tugged the sides of your panties down, then tossed them onto the floor. He settled down in between your legs, looked up at you as his mouth met your folds. He slid his tongue between them, such a foreign, but thrilling feeling. Only you had ever touched yourself there.

You threw your head back as he lapped up your arousal. He flicked his tongue over your clit, flattened his tongue over your most sensitive area, suckled at it with his lips. You cried out his name, and put your hand in his hair in an effort to keep him from leaving your pussy.

Timmy held your thighs firmly, and moaned against your folds, creating blissful vibrations. You knew he would have skills, but this was unimaginable. He then quickened the pace of his talented tongue, flicking your clit over and over. It was too much, you could feel your heartbeat in your core, your body shook as you came.

"Fuck," he huffed as he removed his face from between your legs, "that was hot, baby girl. Your cum tastes so good." His lips and chin were glossy, because of you. He then pulled his pants off and his boxers.

You caught glimpse of his hard cock, impressive in length and pink at the tip. Your pussy throbbed at the sight.

“Is it okay if I put in you?” Timmy asked, taking his dick in his hand, ready.

You nodded eagerly, “Yes, please.”

He placed his thick tip at your hole, then slowly started to slide in. Your wetness made him glide easily, but he was tight fit inside you. He nestled his lower body between your legs and held your hips in his hands.

You gasped as his cock filled you up. The stretch was painful, but as he thrusted in and out more, it became bearable, then after about a minute, it felt really good.

“How’s it feel, love?” he asked you, looking down at you as he pumped his hips a little faster.

You put your hands on his back, “Mm, it’s so good.”

Timmy then kissed your face, your neck, your lips. “I’ve dreamt of your tight pussy on my cock.” he said, his voice low, and so sensual.

“Yeah? You wanted to fuck my little pussy?” you purred, then squeezed his body with your legs. You then remembered your vagina has muscles, so you squeezed around his cock too.

“Ah, fuck!” he cried, then bucked his hips faster.

There was more friction inside you now, and more pleasure. “Oh my god!” you whimpered.

He stopped after a couple of minutes, pushed your legs apart so he could move out of their grip. He turned you over, smacking your ass along the way.

You giggled, not knowing until then how much you liked being spanked.

Timmy grabbed you by the hips, pulling your ass back toward him. Then you felt his fingers at the clasp of your bra, and your breasts were free in a matter of seconds. He teased your wet entrance with the tip of his cock, he circled your clit with it, making you tremble with need.

A/N: sorry to end it there, but this chapter was getting too long, i think. part two coming soon!

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @mel-vaz @thatoneweirdgirl17 @iwishchalamet @jindongdongie @elloise0 @rennyd26 @briefkittenearthquake @that-one-fangirl69

[justporo]

A Shuffle of Cards

Another shorter one-shot in which Astarion and Tav just waste an evening playing cards and drinking wine and the vampire learns he doesn't know everything about sleight of hand that there is to know - yet.

Pairing: Astarion / Fem!Tav (You) Rating: Teen (just to be sure)

(Gif from here!)

“How did you-?“ “A lady never tells.” Astarion snorted – you flipped him off. “Well, is it your card or not?”

Astarion groaned in frustration: “Yes, it is.” You grinned at him – equal parts proud of yourself and mischievously happy. Then you turned the card over so you could see which one it was. “Oh, Queen of Hearts – so fitting, don’t you think?”, you said and raised your eyebrows cheekily at the vampire. But he had no capacities for teasing – you must’ve gotten him good.

“Show me again!”, he demanded, his ruby eyes already fully concentrated on your slender hands again, brows furrowed critically. You rolled your eyes at him. “You didn’t get it the last six times I’ve done this, what makes you think this time will be different?” “Just show me again!” You breathed out in annoyance and went to shuffle the deck of cards again.

The two of you had gotten cozy in front of the fireplace in your living room while an autumn storm was roaming outside – right on the cliché fur rug, each seated with crossed legs on a pillow. You had been playing cards and emptying a bottle of red wine (“hm, rich taste with a bouquet of red berries and a hint of almond”, Astarion had said after taking his first sip – to you it tasted like good stuff to get wasted on), when you had suddenly exclaimed: “You wanna see a card trick?”

Astarion had scoffed in arrogance and waved at you sneeringly to go on, expecting child’s play. And now he was sitting there trying to figure out how you managed to get his chosen card right every damn time – for fifteen minutes straight. His hands were pressed to his knees, elbows up, while he leaned to you to watch you shuffle the deck artfully. His gaze basically bored into your fingers.

“Love, there is nothing yet to see.” “Maybe I just like to watch what those sinful fingers can do”, he smirked at you, his eyes moving from your hands to your face and grinning even more broadly. The warm orange light of the fire shone in his eyes and illuminated his face in warm tones. He looked so beautiful right then and there, you almost dropped the cards.

But no! You wouldn’t be distracted by him this time. He already almost got what he wanted from you all the time by working his charms on you because you were so desperately inclined to give him everything that would make him smile at you like this.

You unceremoniously placed the cards on the ground before you and spread them out. “Pick a card”, you said to him in an annoyed tone to demonstrate how much you weren’t affected by him making eyes at you, even though one of his soft white curls had fallen adorably onto his forehead now too.

Astarion pouted at your demeanor: “Not giving me the whole show, my sweet?” You slowly blinked at him not reacting further. “Come now, love, this is the last time, I promise”, he then said pleadingly and stretched out his hand to grab you by the neck and pull you towards him for a quick but sweet kiss.

You sighed in defeat and picked up your cards. “Alright, one last time.” You shuffled the deck once more, making the cards jump from your one hand to the other then spread them out in a neat curve with one swift movement – the space between all cards perfectly balanced. Astarion whistled in astonishment which made you look up at him. He smiled and winked at you and you blushed at him cheering you.

“Sooo, would you honour me with choosing a card, Astarion?” “Oh, I would love nothing more, darling!” He made a show of letting his fingers wander through the air above the cards before settling on a card and elegantly dragging it out. “Now, would you please look at it without showing me which one it is and memorise it well.” The vampire drew the card close to his chest and raised his eyebrows mockingly being overly secretive. He took a peek at his card then threw you a glance to make sure you weren’t trying to watch – you sat there waiting for him to be done with your mouth pressed into a line. “Alright, I memorised it”, Astarion said while keeping the card pressed to his chest, eyebrows still raised at you.

“Well then”, you replied and grabbed the remainder of the deck with another swift movement until you had them all in your hands. Then you split them in half and held them out to the vampire. “Please put your card back in.” He did as he was told while acting being hesitant about it. When he had placed the card down, you put the other half above it.

Astarion’s lips opened in anticipation and his eyes were trained on your hands again – now being completely serious about it.

He wanted a show, so you gave it to him – you artfully split the deck up again in thirds and made them whirl around your fingers with an incredible speed. You knew exactly where his card was at any given moment.

“No, no, no – this isn’t fair, love!”, Astarion exclaimed in desperation and pouted at you again, but you just stuck your tongue out at him and kept shuffling. When the vampire looked positively dizzy from watching your shenanigans you stopped and lifted up the top card with its face to Astarion. “Is this your card?”

His eyes widened in surprise then he angrily snatched the card from your hand with furrowed brows. “Yes”, he grumbled while you broke into laughter. “Which one was it?”, you asked him while you put down the remaining cards. Reluctantly, Astarion showed you the card he was clutching in his fingers. “King of Hearts”, he said still pouting.

“Uuh, what another great coincidence, don’t you think?”, you cooed at him cheerfully and slapped your hands on your knees. Astarion narrowed his eyes at you and kept brooding.

“You know”, you said while pursing your lips “because you certainly are the king of my heart.”

You saw it – you saw the light twitch at the corner of his mouth; you got him. “Just as much as you are the queen of mine, my sweet sweet darling”, he answered dramatically and grabbed his goblet of wine to down the rest of it in one go.

“You are only trying to distract me because you lost the last five rounds of cards”, he offered dryly while he licked a remaining drop of “rich, red berry” red wine of his lips. You watched, being mesmerized by the tiny gesture. “Well, is it working?”, you retorted while you kept watching his lips. Astarion noticed your staring and cocked his head: “Hmm, I don’t know might’ve worked better if your clothes had been off.” He leaned back on his hands and watched the effect of his comment unfold. You tried miserably not to blush – damn, would you ever gain some tiny shred of immunity against his charms?

You coughed and rearranged your sitting position. “I only lost because you keep cheating the entire time”, you threw his way to which he lifted a hand to his chest, so taken aback. “My, what a dire accusation. When have you ever known me to be dishonest, my love?” You threw him a single glance. He kept up his dramatic posture.

“Tell you what, you win the next game fair and square, I’ll show you how the trick works.”

“Deal, sweetheart!”, Astarion agreed happily, picked up the cards and started shuffling and dealing you each a fresh hand of cards.

Tonight no new chapter of my longer fic A Night of Song and Laughter (I honestly need a bit of a break, I lost too much sleep the last two weeks or so). But I still wanted to write something. Hope you enjoyed!

[glitter-epoch]

your zayne hand fic was just sooo hot thank you for the food!!! this anon is wondering if you could do a spicy xavier fic as well, with maybe the prompt… darkness or black out? THANK YOU

nsfw, 18+ only, mdni!

OF COURSE. screamed when i saw this in my inbox. thank you for the kind words i’m so glad you like it!!! 

fem!reader | 4.7k words smut under the cut, 18+ ONLY mdni!!! do NOT!!!

. . .

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, light evol heresy switch xavier if you squint maaaybe. kiiind of.

. . .

you’re stepping out of the shower when the lights go out.

they heave like a car that’s just run out of gas, the wires in the walls giving a pathetic, zappy little hhhh before fizzling out.

you step forward too far, the darkness and the icy air of the mostly granite bathroom startling you. a scream escapes you as you scamper forward, trying not to trip. your fingertips meet smooth stone.

as you grip the sink in the dark, embarrassed by your own outburst, your phone blinks to life on the counter. for a moment, the bathroom is illuminated. fog is receding on the mirror and on your phone’s screen as all of the warm air in the room is sucked out, replaced with wintry breezes that leak in from outside as the heat system in your apartment dies.

shivering, you pick up the phone. it's xavier.

“is your power out?” you sigh, putting him on speaker. he lives one floor above you; maybe his is fine.

“yes. was that you screaming?”

he echoes off the walls. his voice is raspy and fond, the way it always is when-

“were you asleep just now?” you ask. “it’s not even 7 o’clock.”

“yes,” xavier yawns. “it’s winter now, so it gets dark outside early. are you okay?”

“no, i almost broke my legs.” 

xavier pauses, and you realize he’s probably about to ask if you’re serious.

“…do you mean it-“

“no, sorry, i’m just kidding.“

you glance around the bathroom, shaking like a wet dog in a storm. and there is, you realize, a storm outside; rattling the hedges in the courtyard below and splattering the technicolor billboards of linkon beyond. that’s what cut the power.

your clothes are folded on the toilet seat; a soft pair of sweatpants and one of the deepspace hunters’ crewnecks- too big for work, too comfy not to lounge in. but you’re thinking of other things. 

your hair drips water onto the tile like a clock ticking, the neighbor’s wind chimes are casting shadows on the wall, and lighting is striking in the distance.

you swallow an embarrassingly large lump of anxiety in your throat.

“xavier?” you prod. he’s been patiently quiet until now.

“i’m here.”

you almost smile at how sweet he is.

“this is ridiculous, i’m really sorry…”

he waits another patient second more.

“do you want me to come to you?” he asks. 

“please.”

there’s a knock on the door. you flinch, nearly knocking the phone off the counter.

“is that you?” you exclaim.

“i came downstairs when you stopped responding. i’m glad i’m at the right door, though. i can’t see.”

. . .

xaiver comes with a flashlight. “i thought this might make you feel safer.”

he’s wearing the one crewneck- white, with the detailing on the bottom- all that really matters is it looks cozy. he’s clearly brushed his hair since waking up, but it’s already piecing together on his forehead and over his ears like it usually does; silvery-blonde sections looking just as soft as he is. his hair and his palms and the column of his throat seem to shine a little bit, like he’s bioluminescent from the inside. maybe it’s his evol. in truth, you’re probably just imagining it. he’s xavier; everything about him is a little off-kilter and mezmerizing.

he presents the flashlight to you as he shuts your front door behind him and peers around. “wow. it really is dark.” 

his eyes are wide; glossy spheres that catch the slivers of remaining light in your apartment. you try not to stare. 

“thank you,” you grin, a little embarassed. 

flipping the switch on the flashlight is useless; the battery is dead.

in the dim moonlight filtering through your front room’s blinds, you see his porcelain face go a little crooked; he grins and frowns at the same time, lopsided.

“of course,” he hums.

you thank him again anyways (warmed that he thought to bring it) and try to lead him to the closet, feeling along the walls. “i should have candles in the closet.”

xavier follows you, albeit, not close behind, like he’s trying to stay out of sight.

“are you hiding?” you quip, although your heart has started to pump with more effort in your chest. 

“no,” he says from behind you. “i’m trying not to bump into you. you scare easily.” he’s quiet for a moment. “clearly.”

you turn over your shoulder, scowling at his vaguely silver outline. “i do not. quit stalking; just walk with me.”

you’ve been stopped for long enough in the darkest stretch of the hallway that xavier’s on you, then; he bumps into you on accident, a good head-and-a-half taller. his chest and the insides of his biceps are warm as he politely slides two hands up your shoulders and clamps down on them. you suck in a breath and he steadies you.

“see?” he mocks softly. 

xavier removes his right hand from your shoulder but seems to keep the other one in place, like he’s worried you’re going to knock into the wall (you might). he lifts his palm up to you- which is large enough to take up the area of your face- and a golden light blooms from the center line on his skin, extending slowly to his fingers. 

once your face is lit up, the corners of his lips quirk up the tiniest bit; his eyes go soft.

there are only so many things you could say: i’m not jumpy, you touched me. i’m not jumpy, i’m in love with you. 

none would save you any dignity, so you just swallow a shaky breath and complain, “you could’ve done that when you got here.”

“i thought the flashlight would be more thoughtful.”

his frame and his warmth hover beside you like a heat lamp as you walk. he smells good; like soap, and expensive fabric softener, which is ridiculous, because you’re certain if you asked him what fabric softener he used, he would reply, “why would i need that? isn’t fabric already soft?”

you come to the doorknob. “okay. back up.”

he does. the air behind you becomes significantly colder as you pull open the door to the closet.

thunder cracks outside as if its splitting the sky in two. you flinch, yanking on the door, heart in your throat; the vacuum cleaner tips over, falls out, bounces off your head.

“ow,” you hiss, clapping a shaking hand to your forehead. 

xavier returns; his chin near the top of your head as he seems to shield you from the rest of the (unfavorably) dark corridor, sticking his arm into the closet to prevent any other heavy stowed items from landing on you. the light in his palm has gone out. 

“are you okay?” xavier worries, almost certainly suspecting your mood is going to be more bruised than your head.

thunder cracks again in succession, three times, like the beating of some hellish drum. a scream escapes you. you duck, actually duck- and xavier loses you in the dark of the closet. he feels around for a moment until he finds your forearm and pulls gently.

“oh my god,” you pant. “sorry, sorry-”

“you’re really afraid of thunderstorms, aren’t you?” he asks softly; perhaps partially to tease you, but with xavier, it’s hard to tell. he’s so blunt and open-booked that nothing and everything sounds like a judgement when he delivers it.

you nod, unable to do anything else at this point. “apparently.”

“you’re shaking,” he comments- and you are, like a- “you’re like a little dog.”

you scowl at him, having thought it yourself but assumed he would be kind enough not to say it out loud.

“what, like the little rabid white ones with crust around their eyes? how dare you?” you huff, turning your head, but he’s still holding you; one big hand on the small of your back now, warm as a heating pad.

“okay,” xavier sighs, and his grin is audible. “let’s go.”

his hands glow like lanterns all the way to the den.

. . . 

you wake up and even the moon has darkened.

storm clouds form a thick and heavy blanket over the sky, snuffing out any light from the cosmos. the den and even your distant kitchen are completely dark, the furniture forming only the vaguest lines in your sight. there are lines on your face, almost certainly, you think; forcing your head and neck up like a cobra, your torso and the front of your thighs glued to something warm and mostly solid. you press your fingers to your face and find indents in your cheek and across your eyelid from where your face was smushed into whatever is beneath you.

xavier. it’s xavier. 

his face is perfectly serene, the smooth and pearlescent slopes of his cheeks and browbones perfectly still and almost visible in the dark. but his lips aren’t parted and his arms are slightly stiff; if he’s asleep, it’s only partially. 

you flinch, just barely, shocked at his presence there more than anything. it comes back to you in small blinks; yes, you had laid down with him, he’d insisted. no it’s not weird. of course i don’t mind. it’s a little ridiculous for you to act like you’ve never fallen asleep on me before (true). and at some point, you’d both wriggled into this position; with your entire body draped over him, blanket on the floor, both of you hot as irons. 

in his light-sleep, xavier seems to feel you jolt. one hand comes to the back of your head and pulls you down, depositing your face into the crook of his shoulder. he’s laying on his back, fitted perfectly into the corner of the sofa; he’s all encompassing.

“no,” xavier demands, albeit gently. “go back to sleep.”

his voice vibrates against your cheek. you’re tired, sluggish, your limbs are heavy; but your heart thumps in your chest, something almost like panic rising in your throat. certainly he knows what this looks like, knows how it feels- you’re completely twisted around each other.

“xavier,” you argue.

“you were happy,” he rasps, lifting his arms up. he wraps them completely around your head, sealing you in. the weight of his biceps are heavy on you; you knew he was strong, obviously, but he really is…strong. his chest is carved beneath you. “you were happy when you were asleep. so do it again.”

“you just want to go back to sleep,” is your reply.

xavier shifts, and one hand drifts down to the middle of your back. he pulls you into him and squeezes, like he’s stretching. you inhale deeply as your face drifts closer to his collarbones, exposed as his sweatshirt is pulled in every direction by your sprawling weight. your mouth falls open as he holds you, deliberately tight, now; you’re sure of it. he’s practically using you like a stress-ball.

he feels your breath on his neck and his eyes flutter open slowly, fingers twitching to a stop.

“what are you doing?” he chirps.

you could smack him. “what are you doing?”

the thunder returns before anyone can answer, like it senses you’re awake. xavier responds instantly, plucking a fallen blanket off the ground and draping it over both of your heads. in breaths, you’re locked into one another; in a world under the quilt. 

you peer up at him in the complete blackness, feeling his breath on your nose.

“better?” xavier asks.

the sound is surprisingly resonant; he’s ridiculously close.

you feel around his chest and arms, trying to find his head. he inhales, choppily, but doesn’t stop you.

“you are doing something…” he murmurs. his body responds to you, shoulders rising slightly as your fingers dance over them.

“i’m just trying to find your face,” you retort (doing something).

xavier takes your hand and presses it to his cheek. “here.”

you gulp. what are you supposed to do now?

it’s quiet for a moment, rain ricocheting gently off the windows of your apartment. the thunder is distant for a few breaths, rolling far away but seemingly making its way back, like engineered waves slowly picking up speed in a wave pool.

xavier’s heart is always slow, so slow that it sometimes worries you. but his breath is not; the movement of his hands is fast. if he’s not nervous- he’s at least worked up.

thunder cracks. before you can jump or blink or even breathe, he pulls the blanket even further over your heads and reaches for the small of your back, dragging your body up until the top of your head presses into his chin.

you let him, allowing your head to drop onto his chest, unsure of what else to do and not quite able to think of anything else to do as his hands roam around under your sweatshirt; exploring the slopes and ridges of your back and spine.

“your heartbeat is so fast,” xavier murmurs, but his voice is far-away, too; his hands are greedy as he searches for something on the plane of your skin- knots, nerves. soft things, for himself. “you aren’t this afraid of a storm.”

“no,” you cave, essentially coming clean. “what are you trying to do?”

he stills, hands still under your shirt. “are you uncomfortable?”

“no,” you blurt. “no.”

you’re almost certain he smiles; his breath is soft and quiet for a moment. “then can i keep going?”

you pause, nervous. “keep going with what?”

his chest is suspended for a moment. he doesn’t answer. 

in the silence, you’re just barely emboldened enough to whisper it, though you’re not entirely sure what his plan is: “keep going.”

the storm seems to be on his side as a low, rumbling roll of thunder passes by your window, lightning following- for the shortest second, you can see his face; lips swollen with sleep, and parted, his eyes closed. 

your trembling returns for a myriad of reasons. this propels xavier to wrap an arm around your waist and sit up, taking you with him; your knees are forced to bend, thighs spread out on either side of him. you straddle his lap, the blanket slipping off your head.

xavier’s eyes flutter open slowly, ever sleepy. his hair splays around him, lighter than the rest of the room. his expression is almost a smile, dazed and determined, and his eyes seem to light up as they rove over the mere outline of your face in the dark. “i’ll distract you,” he says, sliding his palms onto your knees.

he waits, hands heavy. 

“what are you…” you begin.

oh. he wants you to sit.

you do; he’s hard under you, and he inhales. 

“xavier…” you whisper, uncertain not of your own desire, but his. “i didn’t think you…you never-”

“i never what?” he says, swiping your hair off one side of your neck. “your hair is still wet.” his fingers tangle in the damp strands at the top of your spine, roving up to the top of your head. “are you cold?”

“n-no,” you manage. 

xavier leans forward, his lips close to your neck- then he stops, looks up at you. his eyes are practically the only things visible in the room; but he seems to be able to see you quite well.

“can you see in the dark, or something?” you pant. he doesn’t answer. instead:

“you want me,” he remarks, quiet. 

“you want me,” you retort, instantly defensive; this doesn’t feel real.

xavier- tall and lithe and hard under you, clawing to keep you close to him- blushes still, his cheeks almost red. he smiles, almost, pupils as big as saucers.

“you do want me,” he answers for you, nodding as his lips latch onto your neck.

it’s a ploy. you inhale, stretching your back for him; so naturally, his hands drift to lift up your sweatshirt, then glide up your waist, up to your ribs. he swipes his thumbs over the skin there, and gasps slightly when he finds nothing there; no bra under your hoodie.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, for no real reason, but you’re not thinking straight. 

xavier doesn’t even ordain you with a response to something so stupid. he just reaches higher, palms your breasts, both of you inhaling as your nipples pebble under him. 

“i can see you,” xavier whispers, his lips on the shell of your ear. “i can see far in the dark. but you can barely see anything…”

you feel feverish; hot and dizzy and unable to take a full breath and xavier pushes your sweatshirt up to you neck, urging you to slip it off.

“do you want to?” he asks, breathless.

you’re the one who ignores a stupid comment this time, slipping off the hoodie. wet strands of hair fall over your shoulders and face, tangling over xavier’s fingers and dangling in front of his eyes. 

he stares at you through the dark, eyes languidly darting all over your naked body; like he doesn’t know what to do first, like he’s astonished that you’re something he’s really looking at.

xavier looks up at you, practically drooling. “is this still okay?”

“are you kidding me?”

he responds with something low, a primal and somehow still grateful sound from the back of his throat, and leans forward to catch your breasts with his mouth. his teeth graze over your nipple, his lips finding it a moment later; it slips in and out of his mouth, slick from the wetness of his mouth.

you inhale to hide a moan, sinking lower into his lap; grinding over his length unintentionally. xavier’s mouth drops off of you, and he inhales deeply; trying to get back to you, to keep working at your breasts, but he can’t.

“d-don’t,” he murmurs, “don’t.”

you wonder if you’ve really made him uncomfortable. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean-”

“it’s not you,” he replies. “i can’t- if you keep-”

you inhale, body barely moving, and even this is too much for him. xavier completely leans back from you and tears his own shirt off; light hair splaying around his head as the shirt lands on the floor. he pushes you back slightly, until your thighs are resting on his thighs, away from his lap.

he tugs at the waistband of your sweatpants. “do you want to keep these on?”

and he’s sincere, waiting for you so patiently, despite the slack in his jaw and the glaze over his eyes. you come onto your knees, sitting up enough to push the pants down to your shins; he reaches behind you and pulls them all the way off.

he takes you in again, in nothing but your panties, like he isn’t sure if he’s really awake- despite being the one to instigate this encounter in the first place.

instigator, you think. it’s the perfect term to describe him. 

after a moment of polite gawking, he pulls on your waist like a handlebar; drags you back to him so you’re sitting with your thighs spread and balanced on either heel. as evil as he secretly is, he watches you as he brings his fingers to your panties; running his knuckles along the clothed surface of your core before pulling the fabric aside.

you gasp; one hand covering your mouth. he smiles sweetly. thunder follows.

“see?” he says, pawing innocently at your folds before running the back of his hand over the bundle of nerves there; quick to drag them slowly down again, and up again, over and over. “you needed something to distract you.”

you’re looking down, trying to see what’s happening; his face is somewhat visible, as it has been, but his hands and your thighs are not. 

xavier tests one finger at the base of your cunt; to see what you’ll do, how wet you are. his mouth falls open.

“oh…”

you’re not sure if he’s making fun of you or if he’s just shocked; but more likely than not, it’s the latter, because his eyes are big as dimes when he looks up at you, reclined against the arm of the sofa, with you on top of him.

you’re trying to remember when you got into such a compromising position. 

“can i?” he amends himself. “do you want me to?”

you almost can’t answer, so you nod, and a moment later, manage, “yes, p-please.”

‘please’ seems to set him off. his middle finger slips inside of you easily, meeting no friction. at first, you try to watch; feeling his wrist moving up and down as he pumps inside of you. then he adds a second finger and you don’t even try to look anymore, letting your head fall back.

you feel his eyes on you as you do this, pressure building in your lower belly. 

“does this feel good?” he asks, all sincerity.

“s-so good.”

“look,” he whispers.

there’s a warmth in you before you do, but even then, you can’t guess what you’re about to see- a light, faintly glowing, illuminating the thin flesh around your pelvic bones and fading out over your navel. his hand, inside you; glowing.

“xavier!” you scold. 

for a moment, he changes nothing; he watches the light wax and wane as his fingers move inside you, and you watch it, too- despite your immense humiliation- both of your mouths hung open. you aren’t sure if you’re about to curl in on yourself from embarassment or pleasure, but xavier must see the strangled expression on your face, because the light goes out.

“you get embarassed so easily,” xavier remarks, leaning forward with one hand still inside you. he uses the other to brush your damp hair out of your face, and runs the pad of his thumb over the lines on your cheeks and eyelid; places where your face was smushed into his sweater. “look at me. do you see me?” 

“k-kind of.”

he smiles, movements never slowing. you squirm in his lap, vying for more despite his steady pace. 

“i think about you,” xavier murmurs into your neck. “everyday. all the time. there’s nothing you could do that i wouldn’t want you for. don’t you see?”

you nod, emboldened by his words, thinking that you should thank him but too busy thinking about other, more immediate things.

as you’re squirming in his lap, you push forward, finally; sit on the hard length of his cock. his fingrers curl inside you and you whine.

xavier hisses and exhales. he looks up at you; the marble of his eyes shining in the dark.

“do you…” you pant, struggle. “do you want to…”

xavier nods. he keeps nodding, at first, and doesn’t even say anything- he sits up to wrap and arm around your waist and he’s still nodding. then:

“yes,” he murmurs into your ear. “i didn’t-”

you grind onto him again. his fingers leave you, steadying himself with that now unoccupied hand. 

“…w-want- god- please, don’t…”

so you wait, feeling guilty again, but of course, he doesn’t mean do nothing- you realize moments later, he’s just begging you to slow down.

“i didn’t want to ask,” xavier continues throatily, gently lifting you off of him to roll down the waistband of his own sweatpants. “i didn’t want you to think i’d be disappointed if you said no.”

you smile at him, sick at how sweet he is. “i want to. please.”

he’s kissing you as he finally kicks off his sweatpants- you feel him buck his hips up as only his underwear remains. maybe, if you could see anything, you would have lingered in this moment a little longer. but you’re barely any help as he kicks those off, too; uses his own strength to hold your hips in the air over him, not setting you down.

“are you sure?” xavier pants.

“i am extremely sure.”

he inhales shakily and leans forward to press you to his chest, adjusting himself under you; then he sets you down, lowers you onto his cock. 

both of you gasp; you inhale so sharply it stings. you can’t see him, can’t see anything but his blown-out pupils- but you’re full, completely, as he takes your hips in his hands and asks:

“are you tired?”

his voice is trembling, but not desperate; he’s trying not to buck up into you, you’re sure. 

you can’t lie, so all you do is nod. your entire body buzzes, your head swims; you are exhausted, but you do want him.

xavier nods, pressing a kiss to the plane between your breasts. “that’s okay. just relax.”

and he is ridiculous for saying this, because then, he begins to move you himself; sliding you up an down on his length, slowly and gracefully at first- until you moan over him, and he seems to crack, bouncing you up and down to his liking.

“x-xavier…” you whine, but he’s relentless. 

your hands landing on his chest as you droop forward only egg him on. he presses one hand flat to your back, forcing you to collapse onto him, then goes back to moving your hips. he’s pounding into you, his breath and his voice strangled and fast in your ear, but his heart still beats slowly in his chest- the rhythm of it is intoxicating to you. you listen, one ear pressed into the space between his collarbones: 1…2…3…

you realize, now, that the slow heartbeat is just what’s providing his inhuman stamina: he’s anything but calm. 

“you don’t know…” xavier murmurs, rocking in and out of you, sounding very far away. “you don’t even know…”

“know what?” you manage. 

“how much i think about you. how much i want you- you don’t…”

he sits up suddenly, your head draping over his shoulder, and continues to move you up and down; hot inside you. your legs are practically numb. the coil in your stomach tightens and releases, threatening to unfurl; you’re not sure how long it’s been. your head falls back and xavier catches it, pausing to press kisses to the column of your throat. you squirm, now settled onto his lap again; cock still inside you. 

xavier grabs your hips and seems to be restraining himself from holding you still.

“if you do that, i can’t- i’ll-”

you know what he’s going to say, so you keep doing it. xavier latches on to your neck with his mouth as you grind on top of him, exhausted, but it’s enough. one of his arms is still looped around your waist, squeezing the flesh of your hip. the other draws tracks through your hair, and stops to grab a fistful at the top of your head; you moan, but he doesn’t release you- clearly not knowing his own strength, how tightly he’s gripping you. 

that’s it for you; the sensation low in your belly blooms as his cock twitches inside you.

he bites down on your shoulder when he cums. not nearly hard enough to hurt (he would never), but it’s so unbridled and unexpected that you come undone on top of him moments later; allowing him to squeeze you to him and pull you both back to lay flat on the sofa.

for a moment, there is only quiet rain and heavy breathing. xavier lifts his hand to pluck the hair out of your face again, running his fingers over those same lines on your cheeks that he must be able to see through the dark- how unfair, it is, that he’s been able to see practically the whole time, and you’ve been nearly blind.

a clap of thunder bursts somewhere in the distance. you’re busy panting, pawing around for xavier’s face in the dark.

“see? you’re not even thinking about the thunder anymore,” he breathes. “you must have had a good distraction.” and then, both endeared and confused, he asks, “what are you looking for?”

“i’m trying to find your head so i can smack you.”

[jo6hny]

Graham - Hazel Callahan

Pairing: College! Hazel Callahan x College! Reader 

Contains: FLUFF, idiots in love, but i'm a cheerleader references, friends to lovers

Word Count: 2.16K

Summary: based off this request.

A/N: I kinda don't like this omg. anon please forgive me i tried my best :< i might revisit this fic if i get motivated sooo

────────────────────────────────────────────

The atmosphere of Hazel’s dorm room was cozy. Not because it was small, but because it was home to all of her crazy and wonderful belongings. From your line of sight, you could see her skateboard propped against her drawer which was filled to the brim. Hazel’s room was a reflection of who she was. You could determine what kind of person she is just by looking at the state of her room. The thought made you giggle. 

“What are you thinking of?” Hazel asks as she untangles her hold from you. Both of you were laying down on her bed, arms and legs previously tangled. 

You shake your head. “It was nothing, really.” 

“Tell me.” She muttered, poking your belly over and over again. This elicits laughter from you as the ticklish sensation takes over your senses. 

“Alright, okay!” You exclaimed, catching your breath. “I was just thinking about your dorm room.” 

She raises her eyebrows at you. 

“And what about it?” 

“Well,” You start, waving your hands around. “It’s very you.”  

Hazel frowns at your admission. She didn’t quite get what you meant by that. You admire her as she contemplates on what to say next. You notice the freckles on her face, how it only appeared in the sunlight. How her hands were bruised. From fixing her skateboard, probably. How her hair looked like it had a life of its own whenever she laid down. 

“Anyway,” You interrupt her train of thought. “I have to go.” 

The brunette pouts and envelopes you into another hug. She smelled good. Like clean soap and laundry. She wasn’t wearing her signature citrus scented perfume today. This made you appreciate the hug more. You could feel your heart pound against your chest at the feeling of your best friend nuzzling her nose on the crook of your neck. 

“Hazel.” You whined, though you weren’t doing anything to let go of her. 

The brunette whines in retaliation. 

“Fine.” She huffs, loosely letting you go. 

You turn to her and envelope her face in your hands. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You ask, your tone of voice sweet and caring. 

She nods, her eyes still full of sorrow at your departure. 

“Yeah.” She replies, sitting up so that you two were level. “Okay, I lo-” 

The brunette stops herself from finishing the sentence. Hazel bites her tongue and feels her heart pounding. She almost slipped up. 

“What?” You interrupt, eyebrows furrowing and pulse thumping. 

“I’ll text you.” She blurts out, avoiding your gaze. “That’s what I meant.” 

You nod, seemingly speechless. 

“Okay.” 

Hazel gets out of bed and takes your hand to escort you out of her room but not before giving you a hug again. 

“Bye, pretty. Text me when you get to your dorms, ‘kay?” She mumbles, nuzzling her nose on the crook of your shoulder as to memorize your scent. 

────────────────────────────────────────────

Back at your dorm room, your mind was occupied at Hazel’s almost admittance of her love for you. Well, at least that's what you thought you heard. I mean, how many sentences sound as close to “I love you” anyway? The thought made you feel crazy. It wasn’t like it would be the first time you’ve admitted your love for each other, anyway. Though the declarations of love you two shared was strictly platonic. That is until you both got closer to each other, when the both of you started playing between the lines of friends and lovers. 

Nowadays, neither of you uttered the L word. Not when the both of you had feelings on the line. And you weren’t delusional either. You knew that Hazel felt as much for you as you did her. She wasn’t as touchy or as sweet to her other friends as she was with you. No, only you knew about her and saw her at her most vulnerable. This to you was an admittance of her attraction to you. She didn’t need to say it, at least not now. You didn’t want to rush the girl either. It was better that she’d admitted it on her own. 

You do admit though, that you’d like to take control of the narrative sometimes. Just confess and have things over with. You dream of what it would be like to stop tiptoeing between the lines. You dream of tasting her lips and you wonder how well they’d fit with yours. You dream of molding your being with hers and finally feeling complete for once in your life. But you respected Hazel’s boundaries. Especially since PJ broke her heart. For now, you could only dream and be satisfied with what you had because something was better than nothing. 

Just then, your phone dings and reveals a message from Hazel herself. 

Girl Oppenheimer: i miss u already :< 

You: I lit rally just left, haze. 

Girl Oppenheimer: can’t a girl miss her bestfriend who’s also her almost girl? 

Your heart jumps at Hazel’s last message. She was teasing, something that she did often. Both of you would call each other girlfriends and wives but never fully face the exterior of your feelings with each other. 

You: no <33 

You: now stop bothering me pls i’m busy studying 

You weren’t. But you couldn’t keep on talking to her right now. Especially after she called you her girl. It affected you more than it usually would have. Probably because you were deep in your feelings a couple of minutes ago. 

Girl Oppenheimer: meanie :< we’re still on for tom tho ryt? 

You: ofc! 

Girl Oppenheimer: yay!!! see u <33 

Throwing your phone across your bed, you sigh. There was no doubt that your heart harbored love for the brunette. Love that was bigger than your heart and deeper than your soul. The desire to be with Hazel was strong and it’s gotten to the point that you’ve tried all sorts of hijinks just for things to get faster. Manifesting, praying, you name it. But at the end of the day, you respect her even if she frustrates the shit out of you sometimes. 

The next day went by smoothly, much to your delight. You’d thought that the day would have been difficult seeing as how you felt lethargic after all the overthinking last night. Lucky for you though, the day was too busy and you didn’t have the time to think about yours and Hazel’s complicated relationship. That is until the time for you two to meet came. It’s supposed to be just a regular hangout. Nothing special. Well, it was special to you because it meant hanging around your “lover”. You and Hazel have this thing where you pick out the dumbest and campiest movies on whatever streaming platform and spend the day just laughing. It was a simple movie night shared between good friends. 

Tonight, the both of you settled on watching “But I’m A Cheerleader”, a lesbian cult classic. The both of you watched this movie countless times before but never got tired of it. Safe to say that it’s a shared favorite between the two of you. Aside from this, you also loved teasing Hazel and how she looked a lot like Clea Duvall’s character, Graham. Except that Graham was way cooler than Hazel. 

“I'm Graham, and I like girls, a lot.”

“Hey, it’s you.” You teased Hazel as Graham appeared on the screen. 

“I do not look like her!” She protested, bumping her shoulder against yours. The two of you were huddled on her tiny dorm bed, with her laptop on your laps. Snacks were already eaten before the movie even started. This was how it usually went between you two. It was like a tradition. 

“Hey. Clea Duvall is hot. Why are you so offended?” You reply, bumping her back. Hazel looks at you with a hint of mischief in her eyes. 

“Do you think I'm hot?” She retaliates, moving her face closer to yours. She didn’t know where she got the confidence to do such a thing but watching Graham’s character be all confident and cocky had her thinking that if she acted the same, things would progress better between the two of you. 

Hazel blames herself for many things. Fucking her relationship up with PJ (not that she wanted her back), crashing her car on a tree, and being such a slowpoke when it came to your relationship. It wasn’t like she didn’t want you. She did, badly. But she’d made the mistake of telling you all about how hard it was to move on from her ex and it scared you away. On top of that, she also hates how awkward and dorky she can get whenever she senses you making a move on her. Which is why she’s decided that tonight was the night. No more dancing around. Tonight she wasn’t Hazel Callahan, she was Graham and she would make her yours. Or at least try to. 

“What’s gotten into you?” You ask, suddenly feeling flustered. 

Hazel took this as an opportunity to wrap her arms around you and pull you closer to her. 

The brunette shrugs. “Nothing, I just..wanted to know if you found me hot?” 

You scoff. 

“Of course I do.” You mumble, barely audible.

“I-I find you hot too.” Hazel stutters. She wanted the ground to eat her up right then and there. That was so uncool of her. 

You giggle at her failed attempt at being Graham-like. 

“You know I don’t mean it when I say that you’re like Graham, right?” 

The blue eyed girl shrugs. Her cheeks are heating up as she feels your hand fiddling with your hair. This was something you did when you were deep in thought. 

“Okay,” You add, wrapping your arms around Hazel as well so that both of you were in a hug. “Well, I think you’re cooler than her and I like you better.” 

“You like me?” 

Giving her a smile, you reply. “Of course I do.” 

“No, like..” She interjects, trying to make her point across. “Like like” 

“Like like?” You answer, heart beating louder than usual. This was it. The both of you are being forced to face the music. Lesbian romcom in the background ignored. 

The brunette nods. Mouth unable to conjure up words. The last of her confidence was long gone, but she wanted you more than ever. She was tired of feeling so scared. She was tired of not loving you with her whole heart. She wanted to be able to scream out how much she loved you without shame. Hazel knew in her heart that she’s fully capable of loving you now more than ever. 

You smile at your lover and scoot closer as you plant a soft kiss on her cheek. 

“I love you.” You whisper, staring into her blue eyes. There was no turning back from this. The friendship you cultivated for years is gone as you bare your heart. 

One breath and then two breaths and then three. Your words seemed to hang in the air around the both of you. 

“You don’t have to say it back, though!” You exclaim, flailing your arms around. Fearing that a mistake has been made, you scoot away from Hazel which made her scoot closer to you. 

“No!” She interjects, pulling you closer. “I love you too!” 

“What?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed. “No you don’t. What?” 

“What?” 

You shake your head as if to restart your mind and rid it of the jumbled words forming. 

“I mean, you do? I just can’t believe it is all.” 

Hazel nods, she seemed lost in whatever was happening. You felt the need to clear things up but you were lost too. This wasn’t how you envisioned things to be. Not in her dorm room, not with a stupid movie in the background playing, and certainly not with all the awkwardness. You’d envisioned things to have been more romantic; put together. But then again, the situation perfectly encapsulates Hazel and you. Awkward, weird, but ultimately charming. 

“I do.” She replies, hugging you tighter. “And I’m sure of it. Just in case you were wondering.” 

“I wasn’t…but thanks?” You wrap your arms back around her. The two of you are closer than ever and it feels just right. 

“It’s just,” She starts, racking her brain for what to say. “I know we’ve been having this weird situation and I wanted you to know that I’m completely over my ex and that I’m not stringing you along or anything like that and that my feeling for you is-” 

You cut her off, lips on hers. She tasted sweet, like the candy she ate before the movie started. And her lips were soft and plush. You couldn’t get enough and it seemed like she didn’t either. The movie was long forgotten as the both of you exchanged the enthusiasm of liplocking. 

“I love you.” Hazel said for extra measure. 

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “I love you too, Haze.” 

────────────────────────────────────────────

tags: @academiareid @fictionalgap

[agustdiv1ne]

in no particular order, here are my favorite fics that i've read this year!! please show a lot of love to all of these wonderful authors <3 (also please heed their rules, esp for nsfw fics!!)

part of my 2023 wrap up!

@koqabear

um like. quite literally everything sol has posted this year. i am being so serious. check out their masterlist right NEOWWWW and read EVERYTHING

@blackhairedjjun

flowers of every color — i could rave about this series for like 10 hours straight, i'm not even kidding. it's sweet with the perfect amount of angst to really draw you in, i fell in love with every character more and more with each chapter <3 now where is my prince!jjunie :(

@tyunkus

amazon wishlist (m) — me when me when me when roommate!tyun offers to fuck me...god, i need this so bad

@jishyucks

gloves & dittany — OHHHHH how i love this fic...one of the best harry potter aus i have ever read, and with yeonjun?? slytherin!yeonjun!!!! ooooo you really got me good, op <3

bittersweet — *cowboy cat meme* DRUNK SOOOOOOOOOB i think this wins the award for being the cutest fic i read in the year of 2023

@beom-pyu

i can't swim, idiot! (m) — i will never not shut up about this fic...just faking married? with beomgyu?? with feelings involved??? yeah. Yeah <3

like the moon — merman!kai you will always be famous to me, one of my all-time favorites by far!!!!!

@toruro

answers (m) — this academic rival!taehyun fic had me screaming crying gnawing on my leg like wtf mika. how could you do this to me. i am dead now.

@hyukalyptus

something nice (m) — i went SOOOO insane over this fic like the dynamics were just. scrumptious. i love yeonkai i love this fic i love hp for writing this yes yes yes

like, never ever? (m) — ohhhh my god. this one really got me good,, dom best friend!beomgyu giving mc her first orgasm?? sign me tf up !!!!!!

@qqtxt

sway with me — i sent this in for their 1k event i just :')))) i love this so so so much!!!! dancing with yeonjun is my dream, so thank you for taking my request op!! <3

@hueareloved / @huenation

my love mine all mine (m) — the most tender and soft and SWEET nsfw fic i have ever read, so in love with this and sleepy lovesick jjunie AGHH brb rereading this

ditto — ohhhh how i love angst. amor's writing style is beautiful and it made this beomgyu fic that much more heart-wrenching <3

@huckleberrykai

laundry basket (m) — no bc this went CRAZYYY with the perv!mc thing, savored every single word of this kai fic tbh

comfy cozy (m) — CUTE AF. i am the biggest proponent of soft smut and berry writes it so well <3 i loveee soft yeonjun more than life itself

@aduh0308 / @banggyu0308

yeehaw (m) — OKAYYY cowboys!taejun fucking destroyed me like. i don't think i ever recovered from this

berry sorbet (m) — i need kai to be my soulmate rn wtf. cute n sweet and i loved it

@boba-beom

airport crush pt.2 (m) — the minute smiles told me she was working on airport crush pt.2 i passed away. nothing could have prepared me for this fic, it destroyed me in the best way...god, i need yeonjun so bad

trapped in your game (m) — i salivated. i quaked. i (s)creamed. best friend!yeonjun, please hmu </3

@napofamoon / @mazeinthemoon

you're the one love (m) — moonie ATE with this fallen angel!yeonjun fic!! i love sacrilege n this was just sooo hot

@tubatwo

workaholic — this made me giggle and kick my feet so hard...i love you cafe boss taehyun, pls marry me

@hyuk4ngel

honeymoon avenue — i. love. angst. and fay is exceptionally talented at writing it!! taehyun better watch out tho >:(

@mapofthemazeinthemirror / @afterbluehours

untitled (m) — this yeonbin x reader fic is SOOOO hot like. i screamed. i cried. i rolled around in a fetal position because it just made me so insane

@nightlyawnzz

duality (m) — OHHHHHHHHH MYYYYYYY GODDDDDDD i think this is one of the hottest kai fics i have ever read in my entire life. i don't often see kai as a hard dom in fics so this opened my eyes (can't wait for the final part!!)

@scintillasofbeomgyu

you are in love — one of my jjunie comfort fics!!! sweet n soft and everything to me :')

@petrichor-han

twenty-three suns (m) — rain's writing style hits me straight in the gut, especially with this summer fling au with taehyun :') lovely yet heart-wrenching and AGHH i love this

@ncteez

untitled (m) — UMMM this camboy!yeonjun fic altered the trajectory of my entire life. i fucking die every time i read this, like it has to be laced with crack or something

menace (m) — this was batshit INSANE LIKEEEE gangster!yoongi fucked me up so bad (in the best way)

@yeonboy

never meet your heroes — ONE OF MY FAVS EVER. LIKE. COLLEGE AU WITH SOOBIN???? I AM SO OBSESSED YOU DON'T EVEN UNDERSTAND

@ijhyo

how to get the girl — i ate this up SO hard. i just adore both the mc and beomgyu's characters in this, definitely another all-time favorite of mine

@cheolhub

head (m) — SAR YOU WERE INSANE FOR THIS. sub!soobin makes me so feral and this made my brainrot even worse UGHHH

@starbandit

backseat (m) — oh. oh yeah. now this is everything to me, best friend!yeonjun + car sex = a very very happy me

@tonicandjins

learning languages (m) — i don't often read donghyuck fics (or nct fics in general), but this one. oh, this one is beautiful. it made me cry, it made go through so many emotions i just. read this right now, you won't regret it

@heart2beom

cliche — i still vividly remember this first time that i read this, the dialogue is hilarious and it is just sweet n fluffy n AGHH i will forever adore this fic <3

and some more accounts with amazing fics!!!: @majestyjun @hyewka @taegimood @naomiarai @hyuk4sbf @fairyofshampgyu @enha-cafe @moonhoures @wolfytae-exe @dearlyjun @heartchoi @sook9i @tinietaehyun @minastras

a big thank you to all of these writers for sharing your works!! <3

[harrywavycurly]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C17d9dnPV4X/?igsh=MWFid3BkeDl3NXQ5aA==

why is this so reader x killer eddie coded? reader is so sweet and innocent, they’re like “let me make my husband a bath so he can decompress after a long night at the plant🥹” plant aka killing people 😂😂😂

Hiii babes!! This made me laugh because it’s sooo Reader and Killer!Eddie!! I hope you enjoy this little thing where you are just trying to pamper your husband because it’s what he deserves (at least to you)😂💖

TW: Eddie is a serial killer

*reminder in this series you’re a Princess reader aka slightly spoiled*

-find all things A Killer’s Love here✨

You smile to yourself as you step back from what you’d call a masterpiece of a bath setup that included a glass of red wine and a snack, even went as far as to drop in one of your favorite bath bombs to make the water a milky color as well as make the bathroom smell like almonds with a tiny hint of vanilla. Happy with the set up you turn so you can try to figure out how to work the towel warmer Eddie had bought you for Christmas a few years ago, you open it up and place one of your giant fluffy towels in and close the lid expecting it to automatically start warming the towel. You raise an eyebrow when nothing happens and no lights on the buttons turn on, you check the cord to make sure it’s plugged in all the way and to your annoyance still nothing starts to happen.

“Honey can you help me for a moment?” Eddie turns his head in your direction when you poke your head into the living room. He just smiles and nods his head in response as he gets up off the couch and follows you into the bedroom. “Now before we go in I just need you to do a few things for me.” Eddie gives you a confused look as you stop right outside the bathroom door and turn so you can face him.

“You’re up to something aren’t you princess?” He teases as he crosses his arms in front of his chest. “What would you like me to do?” You just smile and reach up and place a kiss to his cheek before you hand him a hair tie. “You want me to put my hair up?” He questions as he begins gathering his curly hair into a bun at the back of his neck.

“I know you don’t like to get it wet if you can avoid it.” He just nods as you then place the laundry hamper next to him making him pause his movements so he can look from it back to you. “You can’t take a bath in your clothes so…gonna have to get rid of them.” Eddie chuckles as you get a sly little smirk on your face.

“A bath huh? That’s what you need my help with?” You just turn around and open the bathroom door letting Eddie get a glimpse inside and he can’t help but smile because he can tell you put a lot of thought into this bath.

“Uhm actually I need your help with this,” you take a few steps inside the bathroom and point to the towel warmer. “It won’t turn on for me…I think it only likes you.” Eddie laughs as he quickly takes off his shirt and tosses it into the laundry hamper, unbuttoning his pants as he takes a step into the bathroom so he can get a look at what the problem is.

“Well baby it helps if you turn it on.” You let out a huff as Eddie simply pushes the button on top making the lights turn on and a timer appear on the little screen letting you see it’ll start warming up in about five minutes. “Now what’s all this for Princess?” He asks as he quickly wraps his arms around you from behind so he can nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck.

“I know you’ve had a hard week with all the late nights you’ve been working at the plant.” Eddie feels his heart drop a bit at the mention of working late because while he has been working late nights it hasn’t been at the plant. “So I ran you a little bath and got you some wine.” Eddie smiles as he sees the little assortment of things on the bath tray he got you for your birthday last year. “I even made the bed up all nice and cozy for when you get out.” Eddie’s hold on you loosens as you can turn around in his arms.

“You’re not gonna make me enjoy this bath alone now are you?” He asks making you playfully roll your eyes as Eddie leans down and places a kiss to your forehead.

“Sorry I only warmed up one towel.” Eddie laughs as you wiggle out of his hold so you can start the bath water up again to add more hot water. “Now you just enjoy yourself.” Eddie watches you pause before leaving the bathroom and look over your shoulder. “Honey?” Eddie raises an eyebrow as he finishes taking his pants off. “Please…try to relax a little bit okay?” He just smiles and nods his head because he knows you’re well aware it takes a lot for Eddie to relax but you also know this bath will do a good job at helping him pause and enjoy a few moments a peace at least for a little bit.

“You’ll be waiting for me when I’m done?” He asks with a wink and you just laugh and nod your head as you walk out of the bathroom and close the door so Eddie can enjoy his time by himself.

[misc-obeyme]

Congrats on the followers!!!! WOOOOO!!!

could I request “I really want to kiss you right now.” with Beelzebabes please? something about him just saying that out of the blue…ugh. it fuckin GETS me. NSFW af please (the naughtier the better ;) lol), and if I could request AFAB but gender neutral pronouns for reader?

Also if it’s not asking too much could you avoid using the word “cunt?” Just a personal turn off, tbh.

btw i’m @libidinous-weeb on here! (side blog) and your smut writing skills are top tier!!! you’re sooo good, i’m a huge fan! <3

Hello hello!

Ahh thank you so much!! I'm still not very confident in my smut writing, so it means it a lot to hear that you like it!!

Okay, so hopefully this one turned out okay... I love Beel so much I think he would just be really sweet the whole time lol. I didn't really end up using pronouns aside from you/yours, so hopefully that's okay, too. But MC is AFAB! As it turns out, I don't like using the word "cunt" either so I didn't, but I would also like to say that it is absolutely never too much to ask me not to use a word like that. I am happy to accommodate any such preferences!

Thank you for participating!

1,000 Followers Event!

AFAB!MC x Beelzebub with prompt "I really want to kiss you right now."

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: face-sitting, penetration (reader receiving)

You had been flirting pretty blatantly with Beel all day, hoping against hope that he'd pick up on your meaning. It wasn't as though he didn't already know how you felt. You had already spent several nights together, all of them mind blowing. But you found yourself wanting more and more. And it had been too long.

It was a slow afternoon and most of his brothers were out of the house or otherwise occupied. For once, you didn't really have anything demanding your attention. It was the perfect opportunity to spend a little quality time with Beel. He seemed happy enough to do whatever you wanted, but he didn't seem to be picking up on exactly what you wanted.

You asked him to join you in your room to watch some TV. Sitting together on your bed was the perfect situation. You could cuddle with him, maybe kiss him a bit, and if he still wasn't getting the message, you might need to just say it directly.

But when you were there, cozied up to his side, you found the TV so boring and his presence so relaxing that you felt yourself getting a little drowsy. Being cuddled up with him like that was so comfortable, you forgot all about your earlier attempts at flirting, your eyelids actually starting to get a little heavy.

"MC," Beel said.

His tone was so serious, you sat up straight to look at him. "What is it?"

Beel met your eyes. "I really want to kiss you right now."

You blinked in surprise for a moment. And then you were no longer sleepy. You turned off the TV, climbed into his lap, and kissed him.

Beel's hands went to your waist and when you opened your mouth for him, he took the invitation readily. You felt the hot spike of desire that ran through your body at the feeling of his tongue against yours. The kiss got hot and sloppy, your motions growing desperate as all the neediness you had been feeling previously returned to you full force. When you felt his erection stirring beneath you, you took the opportunity to grind down on it.

Beel moaned low in his throat, his lips still on yours, his hands running over your hips and your backside. You broke away to pull in a breath, leaving Beel to put his lips on your neck. He sucked and nipped just a little, which made you gasp and grind down on him again. The throbbing need between your legs was almost too much to bear as you gripped Beel's shoulders.

Beel ran his hands under your shirt, breaking away from you so he could pull it over your head, exposing your chest. You tugged on his, too, and it was gone in moments, both of them forming a little heap on the floor. And then Beel's mouth was on one of your nipples. You clutched at his bare shoulders, nails digging in enough to leave little half moon indentations in his skin.

And then you felt Beel's fingers tugging on the waistband of your pants. You slid off of his lap to remove them yourself along with your underwear, too eager to let him do it for you.

Before you could do anything else, though, Beel was lying down on your bed on his back. You frowned at him because he was still wearing his pants.

"Um, Beel," you said.

Beel tugged on your hand and you let him pull you back up onto the bed. His hands guided you until you were straddling his face, your knees on either side of his head.

"Beel," you said again, a note of uncertainty in your voice.

"Is this okay? You can trust me, MC," Beel said, his hands resting on your hips.

You nodded your willingness to let him take the lead and he pushed gently on your hips. You lowered yourself down, holding onto the headboard for balance.

The moment Beel's tongue made contact with your hot flesh, your body clenched and you were thankful you were already gripping the headboard. You held on as he plunged his tongue inside of you before pulling it up to swirl around your clit. You moaned, feeling the wetness dripping from you, imagining how it must be dripping down his chin.

Beel moaned into you and the vibration of his deep voice made you shudder. Beel pushed down on your hips again, making you sink even lower. You had a vague thought about potentially suffocating him, but it fled as soon as he began to suck. He was moaning continuously now, clearly doing it on purpose because of the way you were reacting to it.

You held on to the headboard with both hands, not sure how long you could last like this. The sweet hot feeling gathered deep within you, building and building. You moaned Beel's name as you could feel yourself getting closer and closer until your orgasm finally burst upon you, rolling through you and making you see stars.

You couldn't stop yourself from moving your hips as you rode out your high, not even able to think about what that might be doing to Beel's face.

When you were able to think clearly again, you moved back, half sitting on his chest because you didn't have the strength to go anywhere else.

Beel smiled up at you and your stomach fluttered at the sight of your cum on his lips. He licked them and you nearly orgasmed again just from that.

You leaned forward, letting your head fall on his shoulder. "Beel, you're making me crazy."

Beel rubbed your back. "Do you want me to keep going? Or is it too much?"

You looked at him and smiled. You didn't say anything, just sat up, moved so you were sitting next to him on the bed, and tugged at his pants.

Beel took the hint. He got up from the bed to discard them on the pile of all your other clothes.

This freed his massive cock and you wondered briefly if your eyes were shining excitedly at the sight of it. You could feel the thrill that ran though you as you reached out to touch it.

Beel let you stroke it for a little bit while he stood beside the bed, biting his lip and trying not to groan.

After a minute though, he looked down at you. "MC…"

There was a note of desperation in his tone that sent a stab of desire spiking up your spine. You instantly lay back on the bed, scooting yourself toward the edge. Beel helped you by pulling your legs up to rest on his chest, but paused with the tip of his cock at your entrance. He looked down at you, a question clearly on his face.

"It's okay, Beel," you said. You pushed yourself closer to him. "I want you inside me."

Even with this permission, Beel went slow. You knew it was because he was aware of his size and didn't want to hurt you in any way. You were already so wet, but you were also sensitive after having orgasmed on his face moments ago. Every inch of him that entered you shot sparking sensations through your entire body. You were already squirming and moaning beneath him by the time he was fully inside you.

You reached up to grab at his hands, which were resting on your hips, as he began to slowly move in and out of you. It was almost agonizing how careful he was being.

You arched your back and said, "Faster, faster, please…"

Beel always listened to you and this was no exception. He immediately picked up the pace, pounding into you hard and fast, hitting that sweetest spot deep inside you and making you cry out with the overwhelming pleasure of it.

Beel seemed to be just as lost in sensation as you were, his thrusts becoming frantic, your name spilling from his mouth in a repetitive mumble.

You were already nearing your climax again. It was only a matter of a few more hard thrusts from Beel and you were clenching around him, everything tightening as you did your best not to scream. Your hands clutched at the sheets beneath you as Beel kept going. You squirmed, rocking your hips with him, the feelings running through you so intense you couldn't help the praise spilling from your lips, telling him how good he felt, how amazing he was, how full he made you feel.

It seemed hearing you saying such things, even incoherently, was the last push Beel needed. He groaned as he filled you up with his cum, his hands clenching on your hips, his thrusts stuttering and then slowing.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, both of you breathing heavily. After catching your breath, you would clean each other up, carefully and sweetly, before returning to your bed. You pressed yourself into Beel's side, his arm circling protectively around you and pulling you closer. The feeling of his skin against yours was so nice, you found yourself filled with a sense of happiness. It wasn't long before you both fell asleep, completely exhausted.

1,000 Followers Event | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[princessbrunette]

cuddling john b whilst laying on top of him, suddenly you just get sooo horny and start grinding on him practically begging to get fucked. but he’s been denying you cuz he wants to keep you nice, innocent, and pure (yk he gets off to your innocence) and he only allows you to ride his thigh while he’s praising you and leaving hickeys all over your neck

omfggghhhhh

ur just having a really pure n cozy evening with him, laying on him whilst you watch a movie, and then seemingly out of nowhere you spread your legs a little from your position, hips slowly writhing in circles against his relaxed bulge in his pants and he’s just like ??

and he clears his throat, shifting a little uncomfortably and you have the nerve to innocently ask him “whats the matter?”

“y—uh, you’re uh, you’re humping me, pup.” he huffs out a short awkward laugh and you don’t even stop, just continuing grinding against him slowly.

“can we do something? it feels really good. i think i wanna get fucked.” you say and it sounds so vulgar bc you never speak like that !!!!

“oh— well, i mean— we gotta work up to it, babe. can’t just dive right in. don’t wanna hurt you, okay?” he makes the mistake of reaching between you and just cupping your pussy through your panties in his big warm hand and you just :((

you get a little teary n start humping against his palm, lip trembling all desperate and fed up, “please john b, please — really need it, really really…” you trail off to mouth at his jaw, smoothing your wet drooly tongue down his neck and he literally puffs his cheeks out with a long exhale staring at the ceiling trying to compose himself because you’re really gonna make him act up !!!!!!!

and soon he’s got you dry humping him, having allowed you that— both his hands on your hips guiding you whilst being so sweet :( “just like that, okay? im right here, gotta make yourself feel good pup, like i taught you. aaaatta girl.”

[lale-txt]

❈ 𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐭 𝐰/ 𝐈𝐧��� & 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

where you and Ino are stuck due a snow storm and have to stay warm...

a/n: merry Christmas, my dear @mirkaaaluv (´⌣`ʃƪ)♡ i'm sooo excited i get to be your secret santa! you definitely passed the Ino fever onto me, how is he just so [incoherent screeching]? hope you'll enjoy this fic, i had so much fun writing this for you.

contains: ns.fw under the cut, afab!reader (no pronouns used, ‘cunt’ and ‘pussy’ used to describe genitalia), dirty talk, spanking, breath play, overstimulation, praise kink, fingering (reader receiving), creampie, breeding kink (no mention of pregnancy or babies), rough but loving sex, pet names (babe, baby, sweet little thing, darling)

word count: 3.1k

“See? A small fire and this place feels super cozy already. Imagine a little winter vacation getaway, just you and me–” “–and the hundred curses hiding outside within the temple, waiting to be exorcized…” “Babe, please… I’m trying to be romantic here…”

You can’t help but giggle when Ino takes you in his arms and kisses the bridge of your nose, rubbing your back to warm you up. He had managed to light up the old stove with some firewood, old newspapers and a pack of matches that you found within the abandoned hut. Now the crackling sound of burning wood filled the room, paired with the relentless howling of the snow storm outside. It was a miracle that you found this place during your mission, caught by surprise from the sudden snow. Judging from the simple but clean interior, someone associated with the uninhabited temple you were supposed to cleanse of curses has lived here before. 

Now it is your safe haven in the midst of a storm. While the weather forecast didn’t look good, neither of you would have expected to get snowed in, but here you are. And still, you couldn’t even be mad about it–being stuck with Ino in the middle of nowhere wasn’t too bad, considering your occupation as sorcerers often didn’t leave you with much free time to spend together as a couple. Maybe the stars had aligned to grant you some time together, or how Ino said: A little winter vacation getaway. 

Your partner seems to be all fired up about the situation you found yourself in, his protective instincts kicking into gear. He scurries around the hut, opening drawers and cabinets and gathering everything that could be useful in a pile; from blankets to an old kettle, he even found some dried tea leaves and pickled veggies (that would go along perfectly with the bread rolls Nanami had gifted you and Ino prior to your mission, a small souvenir from his latest bakery discovery). He also drags the mattress from the other room over, putting it in front of the stove from where you watched him with a small smirk curving up your lips. Within a few minutes the room already looked much cozier than before. 

“We should probably get out of these wet clothes or else we’ll catch a cold,” you point out and Ino nods, a hint of mischief on his face before he peels out of his jacket and his black sweater, hanging both over a chair to dry. Both of you strip down to your underwear (not without a little peeking), then Ino is the first to sit down on the mattress, grabbing the biggest blanket and patting his thigh for you to sit on. You don’t hesitate at all, craving all the warmth you can get. When you crawl into his arms, you’re welcomed with lots and lots of kisses on your face down to the side of your neck, before you settle down comfortably with your back against Ino’s chest, letting him wrap the blanket around you both. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, taking deep inhales of the scent of his favorite person in the whole world. 

A comfortable silence falls between you two, and for a while you just sit there holding each other, watching the fire in the stove almost mesmerized, and listening to the sounds of the storm outside. Snow is already piling up on the windowsill while the sun is long gone, but you’re not afraid; you could never while being in these arms. 

“I love you so,” Ino eventually mumbles against your skin before kissing your shoulder and hugging you a bit closer to him. He cups your hands with his, noticing how they were still not fully warmed up yet. He rubs them a little and places a few kisses on your fingertips. “Should I go find another blanket for you? Or make some tea?”

You shake your head and rest your head against his shoulder, looking up at him with a small smile. “Nah, I’m fine. Let’s just stay like this for a little longer. I already feel much warmer.”

Ino looks like he is about to protest, but then he opts to kiss you instead. He is gentle at first, his lips softly brushing against yours, but he is quick to pick up your subtle cues and kisses you harder, one hand coming to your chin while his tongue finds yours. His arm wraps a little tighter around your middle, pulling you closer to him, till there’s not even an inch left between your bare bodies. You can tell from his breathing that Ino is feeling the same rising heat from within as you do. 

A quiet growl comes from his throat when you arch your back a little, grinding your ass against his boxers from where his cock was throbbing already, and it takes him every ounce of self-restraint to not just pull the fabric aside and sink you down on his length. Instead he makes sure you’re nestled tightly with your back against his chest, the hand on your chin wandering down slowly to your throat while his other reaches for your thighs, spreading them open till your legs are hooked over his knees. The blanket hides the damp patch in your panties that would otherwise be on full display, but by now Ino doesn’t need to see to know how aroused you are; your sweet little sounds and your squirming tell him everything he needs to know. 

“Wet already? My sweet little thing is so eager for me, hm?” he hums in your ear when running his knuckles between your clothed folds, the fabric sticking to them. You whine a little, hungry for more of his touch, and he squeezes his fingers around your throat a bit tighter, not too much but enough to remind you of the position you’re in. “Tell me what you want, baby…”

Not giving you any time to respond, Ino’s big hand cups your cunt, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest when he feels you buck your hips against him. He starts to massage your folds a little, a thumb brushing over your sensitive clit and making your legs tremble, a finger hooked under the crotch of your panties and pulling them up. He always loves to tease you like that, your reactions making him hungry to devour you. 

“Wanna cum on your cock,” you mumble in his ear, kissing every inch of him you can reach. His scent was so familiar, so warm, and a little intoxicating; you just couldn’t get enough of him, ever. “Wanna feel you all the way inside my tummy…” 

“Oh, yeah? Gonna be so good for me, baby? Gonna let me stuff that pretty little cunt of yours?”, Ino asks, his voice low and husky. He’s planning on fucking you against every flat surface in this hut anyway, but he loves it when you use your words to say what you want. He can never get enough of the yearning and the desire in your voice, a melody for his ears only. Patience was never his strong suit though, not when you’re both so riled up, so it’s no surprise when he slides your panties down to your ankles and dips one finger into your wetness. 

Your head falls back against his shoulder when Ino adds a second finger, then a third when he feels how your walls flutter around him. His breath is hot and heavy on your skin while he makes you fall apart in his arms, whispering needy words close to your ear. His hand around your throat squeezes tighter every time you clench down on his slender fingers, rubbing that sweet spot that pushes you over the edge so easily. You start feeling a little lightheaded, your whole body tingling. 

“Cum for me, baby… need you all nice and loose so you can take me, okay?”, Ino mutters, pressing his fingers deeper into your heat. You’re dripping by now, your juices running down his wrist while you swallow him so greedily, close, so close–

Ino lets go of your throat once you gush around him, muffling your mewls and whimpers with a deep kiss that takes your breath away. He keeps teasing your clit throughout your orgasm, the overstimulation making you squirm, but you’re still nestled so tightly against him, there’s no escape. Ino can never get enough of the way you look when you’re wrecked with pleasure, but he’s no bully so he lets you breathe for a moment and slides his fingers out to bring them to his lips. 

“I love how you taste,” he moans quietly against your ear, relishing the sticky mess you’ve made. Ino kisses you again and lets you savor your own juices. “So sweet. So delicious. Tastes like heaven to me.” 

He nibbles on your ear and holds you tight in his arms until your heart rate slows down a bit. The whole time his aching cock is pressed against the small of your back, throbbing and desperate to be touched.

When you finally feel the strength in your limbs returning, you sit up slightly, the blanket falling down your shoulders and revealing your bare form. Ino’s eyes never leave your silhouette, he’s taking you in and admiring the shape of you with the eyes of a love drunk man. 

“Fuck me.” 

Your voice is barely a whisper, a little husky even. Dripping with desire. Ino pulls down his boxers and his cock springs free, resting heavy against his stomach. The pink tip is oozing with precum, he can barely hold back anymore. He starts stroking himself slowly while you get on all fours, facing the stove and presenting him your backside. You lower your upper body to the ground, your ass up in the air, spreading your folds with two fingers wide open for him. Ino lets out a shaky breath at the sight of yours, but he doesn’t dare to touch you yet.

“Please… need your cock. Need you inside. Fuck me, Ino, darling, please, fuck me…”

Your sweet please make your lover’s resistance crumble. Ino gets behind you, one hand on your ass to spread it apart even wider for a better view. The light of the fire dips him into warm shades of gold, and his hungry gaze lingers on you. You let out a needy mewl when he rubs just the tip against your cunt, almost making you jolt from being so sensitive still. You whine out his name and arch your back more to push yourself onto him, but he keeps you in place, his fingers digging deeply into your flesh. Ino breathes heavily, and then his hand comes down for a sharp smack, quickly soothed by more kneading. 

“You’re dripping,” he mutters and teases your clit with the tip of his cock, charming out sweet moans from your throat with every move. “Tell me again what you want, baby, c’mon…”

“Need your cock, please, please, just fuck me already–”, you whimper, and cry out loud when another smack lands on your ass, the other side this time. The sharp pain burns so good, and this time Ino comes down to kiss the spot where a faint red mark blooms. Oh, how badly Ino wants to bury his face in your cunt, and lick and spit and suck till you choke on his name on your tongue, but for now he has other plans.

With one swift movement he grabs you by the hips and spins you around, letting out a small growl now that you’re under him. Ino leans down, one hand grabbing your wrists and pinning them down above your head, while his lips find yours again, kissing you feverishly. His cock rests heavy and twitching on your stomach now, as if to demonstrate you how deep he’s gonna nestle inside of you.

“Wanna see your pretty face when you cream around my cock, baby,” Ino sighs and looks at you like you’re magic; pure adoration and desire. It sends warm shivers throughout your whole body and makes your pussy throb, feeling empty ever since his fingers slid out. He lets go of your wrists to grab your legs and put them over his shoulders, making sure you’re comfortable while being spread wide open for him. Ino kisses the insides of your thighs, a few light bites in between, and groans when your hands come to his cock, giving it a few strokes before raising your hips slightly for him to slide in. By now your mind is blank, desiring nothing but to be stuffed to the brim.

The air is knocked out of lungs when Ino finally pushes his cock inside in one swift movement. You’re so wet and your walls swallow him greedily, fluttering around him as you let out a sigh of relief, the biggest smile curling upon your lips when he starts rutting like an animal, setting a merciless pace from the very beginning. While he first held your legs in place, Ino now puts his hands down on the mattress next to your head, basically folding you in half while he keeps on pounding into you. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby, feels so good, so pretty for me…” Ino growls and brushes a strand of hair out of your face to get a better look at your blissfully fucked out expression, your eyes rolling in the back of your head with every thrust of his. Your sweet moans and whimpers are louder than the snow storm outside and awake something feral within him; all he can think about is how badly he wants to breed you, how he wants to stuff you so full of his cum till it’s dripping out of your throbbing core, how he needs to fill you up till you remember his shape forever.

“Close… ‘m so close…”, you mewl, that familiar knot in your core once again dancing on the edge of snapping. You’re melting underneath him, your vision getting a little blurry when you rest one hand on your tummy and feel his cock stretching you out so deliciously. The words falling out of your mouth are drowned out in needy moans and whimpers. “Gonna cum… wanna cum with you, Ino… love you, gonna cum, gonna…” 

Ino lets out an airy laugh, not mocking but so full of love, overwhelmed by his own emotions. He leans down to kiss you again, and to push his cock a little bit deeper inside of you as well until he’s fully bottomed out in your aching cunt. 

“I love you. Love you so much, baby,” he babbles, his hips stuttering by now while he also chases his high, his thrusts getting harsh and sloppy. “Sweet thing… taking me so well… gonna let me fill you up, yeah? Want my cum? I love you. I love you. Fuck, you’re squeezing me, baby, feels good, feels so good… I love your pussy so much… love you. Mine, all mine… ‘m gonna…” 

Your legs slide down from his shoulders and wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer to you, as if he wasn’t already bottomed out in your core, seconds away from falling apart. He moans into your open mouth and after one more brutish thrust you feel waves of pleasure rush throughout your limbs, a numbing and tingling sensation exploding within you. You cum so hard, it makes Ino take a sharp breath and whimper as your cunt milks him, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck when he cums shortly after you, spilling his hot load inside. 

While your orgasm seems to last forever, neither Ino nor you make an attempt to move or pull apart, content in your tiny universe. The only sounds are your heavy breathing, your hammering heartbeat and the crackling of the fire wood. Ino still keeps on mumbling words of praise and adoration against your skin, until you muffle them with a kiss on his lips which he returns with equal passion. 

You trace the scar on his forehead gently with your fingers while gazing into his eyes. They were a bit glazy, with the reflection of the flames dancing in them. Ino leans more into your touch, kissing the palm of your hand and down to your wrist. He doesn’t pull out, not yet, feasting on the feeling of you pulsating around his cock; his load and your juices slowly dripping down from where you’re connected. 

“You’re not cold anymore, are you? I warmed you up really good?”, he asks with a grin and gently bites down on one of your fingers. His eyes sparkle with mischief. You let out a small chuckle. Sometimes he reminds you of a puppy, chewing on everything he could get a hold on, and so eager to get praised.

“Mmm, I’m not sure,” you think out loud and watch his eyebrows twitch in irritation. You laugh again and cup his chin with your hand, pressing another kiss on his lips. “I’ve heard it’s important to keep moving if you want to stay warm…” 

Ino huffs and rolls his hips in response, twitching inside of you, getting hard again. He is so easy to tease, it’s adorable. His hands come down to your hips, and suddenly in one swift motion you’re lying flat on your stomach again, with Ino bottoming out inside of you. Being manhandled like this, plus the new angle, make you moan out loud and tremble from pleasure and overstimulation, and Ino clicks his tongue at your poor attempt to crawl away.

“Oh, I can keep you warm, my sweet,” he whispers close to your ear, pinning you down against the mattress. He lets out a small hushed moan when you arch your back further for him. “Will you be good and return the favor? Gonna let me keep my cock in your pretty pussy? You’re clenching so hard around me, baby, it’s like you never wanna let me go…”

There’s truth in his words, and that night, you definitely don’t let go; and when the sun rises again and the snow starts melting, nothing but love lies on the tip of your tongue, getting swallowed greedily by the one who has your whole heart.

[xenodogartz]

was inspired by this post to design some hlvrai warrior cats!! i'm honestly shocked it took me 2 years to make a warriors au for it, i love making warriors aus...

some basic info below the cut!

sooo my general idea (it's pretty hazy right now. forgive me) for this au is that songfoot (benrey), nectarbrook (darnold), goldenberry (tommy), galeheart (coomer), scorchtail (bubby), and snakestar (gman) are all from the same clan... i'm between plain ol' thunderclan or a custom clan called mesaclan. i'm probably gonna go with thunderclan because i don't wanna bother with making other clans and lore and stuff LOL. there's some kind of threat outside of the clans that's affecting the environment a la the beavers in arc 4. it's something that starclan definitely caused, whether deliberately or accidentally, i dunno. main point is that snakestar sends songfoot, nectarbrook, goldenberry, galeheart, and scorchtail off on a journey to track down the problem and take care of it. while they're gone, the external threat kills snakestar and he spends all his time being a textbook unhelpful and cryptic starclan cat who just kind of makes things worse. as per a snakestar prophecy, the gang picks up gordon along the way, a kittypet whose owners abandoned her and she's been mostly unsuccessfully fending for herself since. oh and frostpaw (forzen) is part of bloodclan. bloodclan tries and fails to kill the gang, despite frostpaw's best efforts (he kidnapped goldenberry's bird friend, sunny).

some lil character facts and such:

gordon is an ex kittypet. she had a very very cozy and spoiled life up until her twolegs got evicted or something and tossed her out onto the streets. she wasn't out there long before the clan cats found her, and thank god for that, because she sucks at being a survivalist. she is fairly smart though, bringing a fresh perspective and problem solving skills to the group. she is consistently freaked the fuck out by clan cat culture, and the clan cats have fun gaslighting her about it. the only cat who doesn't play along with that is goldenberry, mostly because he doesn't really think its that funny. gordon picks up survival skills from the clan cats fairly quickly, but they still call her soft all the time. classic clan cat anti-kittypet prejudice.

songfoot is the warrior code's biggest fan. not because he really fully believes in its utility, mostly because he loves bossing people around. you can find him stalking around thunderclan camp looking out for anyone doing minor infractions. god forbid you take too much fresh kill from the pile, you'll never hear the end of it. he can't really do much about it though, because snakestar finds him vaguely offputting. his signature stare doesn't help much. his fellow warriors generally like him despite all his strange quirks. songfoot has some kind of starclan-given power a la The Three... my thought is that his vocalizations have supernatural mind-altering properties. it's kinda like sweet voice, but a hiss can make others mad, a purr can make others calm, a screech can stun them, etc. without fail. he's vaguely aware of this power, and he doesn't really use it for things starclan would like him to. he kinda does his own thing.

he's a fairly competent hunter and fighter, but he's generally physically non-confrontational. during battle, he prefers to slink along in the shadows and wait to strike.

during the journey, he loves following gordon along. initially it's because of his deeply embedded distrust of kittypets, but he realizes pretty quickly that he's interested in her in a different sense, one that really frustrates and confuses him... a warrior shouldn't wanna be mates with a kittypet. that's so beyond wrong. he's gotta do everything he can to annoy gordon into leaving the group so he doesn't have to confront his feelings about her (one of these tactics involves him insisting on calling her "gordie," saying it sounds much more suitable for a kittypet). unfortunately for the both of them, that doesn't work. what's worse-- his powers don't seem to work on her for whatever reason. they continue to butt heads for far too long before either of them opens up about how they actually feel. (it takes gordon far longer to admit to herself that she's feeling that way than it does for songfoot, but eventually it clicks for her.)

("song" comes from sweet voice, and "foot" comes from... y'know. but i imagine the in-universe explanation is that he spends a lot of time padding around and watching people. the name from the post that inspired this one-- sweetsong-- is perfect but i didn't wanna copy it. i really like the name songfoot though, i think it's really cute.)

nectarbrook is thunderclan's beloved medicine cat. sweet and silly, she has an affinity for collecting and mixing herbs to create new tinctures. they don't always work exactly how she wants them to, but they never have strictly negative effects, so... not too bad! she spends most of her time on the journey trying and failing to be a mediator, and cowering in fear while everyone else does the scary (and often stupid) work. she's got an intelligence to rival gordon's, and she's one of the only cats gordon fully gets along with.

("nectar" is about the closest warrior cats prefix to "soda," and "brook" just kinda sounds nice as a suffix to nectar. it's another liquid-related word too.)

frostpaw is a bloodclan apprentice. he's well beyond apprentice age, but he's pretty incompetent at warrior duties and such, so it's taking him a while. he just wants to graduate.

i imagine he used to be a cushy kittypet with dreams of being one of those cool cat gang members he sees outside every now and again. he's way in over his head.

("frost" comes from forzen. obviously. i initially envisioned him as a warrior named frostjaw. i don't know why i chose that suffix other than it sounding nice. but then i remembered the "i just wanna graduate" thing, and thought it would be funny to make him an apprentice.)

goldenberry is a highly skilled warrior and one of snakestar's kits. he has a very unassuming demeanor, often appearing clumsy or head-in-the-clouds, but he's one of thunderclan's most precise and deadly fighters. his long windclan-like limbs allow for quick movement. like his father, he strikes like a snake. despite his prowess, he doesn't like fighting at all, and he would much rather hang around camp with his friend songfoot and take care of menial tasks like an apprentice or test out new herb tinctures for nectarbrook. he's very helpful and kind, if not a bit blunt. before snakestar died, he had goldenberry in mind as the next deputy as soon as galeheart finally kicked the bucket. he only didn't make him the deputy in the first place because he was an apprentice at the time.

("golden" comes from tommy's signature yellow, as well as his father's perception of him as highly important. "berry" comes from his general sillyness and his affinity for nectarbrook's various little treats.)

galeheart is a gregarious senior warrior and thunderclan's beloved deputy. despite his small stature, he's incredibly strong and overzealous. he loves his clan to death and he loves fighting even more, often dragging everyone into unnecessary squabbles just for the thrill of it. his loud, booming voice commands everyone's attention. he's quite old and really should be in the elders' den at this point, but his love for the warrior life keeps him going despite it all, and he's still in great shape. snakestar isn't quite so satisfied with galeheart's behavior, but there's not much he can do about that, given everyone else loves galeheart to bits. snakestar partially send him on that journey in hopes he would die already, but he has an unwavering spirit and he can and will outlive snakestar.

galeheart and gordon get along for the most part, but gordon is a little scared of him.

("gale" comes from coomer's general energy. he is a strong gust of wind to me. it also brings to mind the color white, which... is what galeheart is! "heart" also comes from his Vibes, mostly his fighting spirit.)

scorchtail is yet another old coot who should be getting ticks picked off of him by apprentices, but his stubbornness keeps him in his warrior position. he's not even particularly good at being a warrior-- he's cowardly and his battle strategy can best be described as the real life version of button-mashing. still, he's far too prideful to retire to the elders' den. he tends to follow galeheart around, since they grew up together and share similar positions in the clan. he's very antagonistic towards gordon, even moreso than songfoot. he has a special hatred of kittypets, seeing their lifestyle as an embarrassment.

("scorch" comes from bubby's association with fire as well as his sassy disposition, and "tail" comes from the tip of his tail looking burnt.)

snakestar is a starclan cat who was previously thunderclan's leader. he's generally cold and and analytical, and not much of a fighter, preferring to make others do his bidding. this behavior carried over very well to starclan, where he spends all his time being appropriately cryptic and unhelpful. he holds a lot of love for his one son, goldenberry, who he's always watching over. he doesn't care much for his other previous clanmates. he visits gordon in her dreams often to tell her vague things about her "part to play" and how important she is and all that. he arbitrarily decided that she was the subject of a prophecy, for the most part. i like to think starclan just makes shit up for fun. i think maybe one of his ancestors visited gordon when she was a kitten and made some kind of deal with her. i dunno. i'm in the very early stages of this au.

("snake" comes from gman's general vibes, but it's also an allusion to snakes in mythology [particularly abrahamic myth] being sleazy dealmakers with ill intent. before he was a leader, his suffix was "sight," alluding to his tendency to sit back and watch rather than run into battle.)

thanks for reading my long-ass ramblings, if you did! :-P idk if i'll actually do anything with any of this, but it's fun to think about...

[akaridream]

all the right buttons: part 2 GOKU (college AU goku x reader)

alright goku fuckers, come get y'all juice

and don't worry geta lovers, you'll get yours soon too

You stared at the coin in your hand, anxiously rubbing your thumb over it. The only way to discover your true feelings was to flip it. Heads for Goku, tails for Vegeta.

The coin sailed through the air. You captured it between your palms and flipped it onto the back of one hand. Eyes opening, you lifted your hand. Heads.

YOU: ummm i guess i felt like i had a slightly better connection with goku?

You climbed into bed and laid in the darkness, wiggling your toes impatiently between your bed sheets. Your stomach floated nervously within you, waiting for her response. What if your guess was wrong? Would you be disappointed if it was Vegeta? No, certainly not disappointed. But there would be at least a tinge of FOMO in your heart at the thought of missing out on Goku. He seemed so sweet and easy to get along with. But perhaps he was just a nice guy with everyone and you were nothing special to him. Whatever the case, you jolted when your phone finally buzzed with Bulma’s reply.

BULMA: as soon as you left, goku said you were cool and that you should come over again soon :) and he said you were really pretty An automatic smile spread across your face and you kicked your feet up with a delighted squeal.

YOU: omg i’ll come over right now if he wants haha

BULMA: easy tiger :) i gave him your number and told him to hit you up, so hopefully you’ll be hearing from him v soon

YOU: did you tell him anything I said about him? Did you put in a good word for me?

BULMA: I told him you’re super sweet and lots of fun to be around, but he was already kinda smitten and didnt need much encouragement. it was actually really cute

Your cheeks were starting to hurt from all the smiling. Then your phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number: hey, it’s goku! i got your number from bulma, i hope thats alright

You stomped your feet on the bed, pleasantly surprised that he was texting you already. This guy doesn’t play games!

YOU: omg hey! ofc thats okay! I know I can trust bulma not to give my number to creeps. I had a great time playing with you today!

GOKU: yeah me too! I’ll have to dig out some other games we can play together sometime

YOU: I’m absolutely down for another game sesh! Wish I still had all my old games, I’d bring some

GOKU: just bring yourself and I’m sure we can find something to play! theres actually an old tenkaichi tournament movie, we could try and find it somewhere and watch it

YOU: ive heard its actually a horrible movie! but that isn’t gonna stop me, i love making fun of bad movies

GOKU: haha cool! Vegeta and I always go to the gym friday afternoons, but I’m free after 5 or so. We could order some food and just hang out here

Wow, he really doesn’t beat around the bush! Straight to asking me to hang out already?

YOU: that sounds great! And will your roommates be joining us?

GOKU: they’ll probably be around. But i was kind of hoping it might just be you and me

YOU: i think i’d like that :) so it’s a date then?

GOKU: yeah, if that’s okay with you

YOU: definitely okay with me! I can bring some drinks if you want

GOKU: yeah sure! You like chinese takeout? Theres an awesome place just off campus I order from all the time, they give you sooo much food

YOU: yeah, that sounds great to me. I’m sure you need big portions, you’re a growing boy after all!

For the rest of the week, you texted Goku without the conversation coming to a natural end. As midday turned into Friday afternoon, an anxious, fluttery feeling flooded your stomach. What should you wear? What should you do with your hair? What about makeup? In the end, you opted for a pair of high-waisted jean shorts, a cute camisole with lace trim and an oversized cozy cardigan that kept falling off your shoulder. The peek of skin would be enticing, if he was interested in hooking up of course. And you certainly weren’t against that idea. Since the day you met him, you had been thinking about climbing all over him, especially right into his lap…

You put your hair up into a clip and dotted your cheeks and lips with a soft glow. After a touch of mascara, you admired yourself in your full length mirror. Scrubbed, shaved and smelling lightly of perfume, you felt confident in your natural beauty. Your heart danced in your chest when your phone buzzed with a text from Goku, saying to come over whenever you were ready. You grabbed the case of chilled vodka soda from your dorm fridge and headed across campus.

By the time you arrived at Bulma and Goku’s front door, your cheeks were aching from smiling so much. Your heart still twirling like a ballerina, you knocked and awaited your date’s appearance.

The door swung open, revealing Goku in a tight black tee and another pair of short shorts in bright orange. He grinned and adjusted his glasses on his nose.

“Hey! Good to see ya!” he said, giving you a brief but warm hug as you stepped over the threshold. Your arms snaked around his thin waist, pleasantly aware of having his hard body flush against yours.

“Good to see you again too, Goku! How was your workout?” you asked as he led you into the kitchen.

“Great! Vegeta hit a PR on bench today, so that was cool!”

You tilted your head as he took the case of vodka soda from you and put it in the fridge. “What’s a PR?”

He blinked. “Oh! Personal record. Sorry, I forgot you aren’t a gym rat like me,” he said, shyly scratching the back of his neck. “Oh, Bulma left this for us by the way.” Goku tapped a knuckle on a bottle of white wine with a fancy label.

“Oh my gosh, that looks expensive!” you said as you examined it. “But what a sweetheart she is! I’ll have to tell her thank you!”

Goku led you to the living room where the game console and old TV had been shoved to the corner and Bulma’s fancy flat screen once again dominated the space. A new coffee table sat in front of the couch as well.

“She’s been busting my balls all week about you,” he said with a shy chuckle as he plopped onto the couch.

“Oh yeah?” you asked in a teasing voice. “What about me?” A warm blush started to overtake Goku’s cheeks. He smiled and shrugged. “Just that she’s happy to see me take interest in someone, I guess. Apparently she thinks its about time!”

You sat on the couch and propped your arm over the back, turned to face Goku. “Has it been a while since you dated someone then?”

He nodded. “Yeah, since high school. I had a long term thing with this one girl but it didn’t end so great. She was a bit of a hot-head. But since her… I haven’t even been on a date. Just been trying to sort my own stuff out, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m not the most experienced with relationships either. Shit’s complicated,” you laughed.

Goku smiled. “Yeah, you’re telling me!” His phone buzzed. “Alright, dinner’s here! Be right back!” His eyes grew wide with excitement and he raced out the door before you could even reply. He came back just as quick and unloaded a surprising amount of food onto the coffee table.

“Are you sure you ordered enough?” you asked sarcastically.

Goku furrowed his brows and looked over the selection of takeout containers. “Well, I thought five entrees might be enough, but I’ll be happy to order more if you want!”

You laughed and opened a pair of chopsticks. “I was kidding! This looks like enough to feed my entire family back home!”

His frown quickly inverted and he grinned. “Oh, okay, good! Should we break out what you brought to drink or try Bulma’s fancy wine?”

“Let’s have the wine with the movie, I think,” you suggested, padding over to the fridge and grabbed a drink for each of you.

Per usual with Goku, conversation was steady and comfy. You chatted and laughed as you sat on the floor across the coffee table from each other, both of your cell phones sitting untouched. “Is this table new?” you asked.

Goku nodded as he scarfed down some lo mein. “Yeah, Bulma bought a new one because Vegeta and I kind of broke the last one.” You sputtered a laugh. “How on earth did you manage to break a coffee table?”

“Well, we were just kind of goofing around and Vegeta slipped and… Fell right through it! It was all glass, he complained about it being invisible all the time anyway. Bulma is convinced he did it on purpose because he hated it!”

You covered your mouth full of food and laughed heartily. “That is hilarious! But what the hell do you mean you were just goofing around?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, just… Goofin’ off like guys do?”

“Sounds just like my brothers,” you said, shaking your head.

You finished your meal, with Goku eating the lion’s share of the food. You didn’t mind, he clearly required more calories than you did. As he was clearing away all the takeout containers, you watched him in the kitchen from behind. His wide shoulders and slutty waist made your head feel light. Or was it the vodka soda?

“You ready to bust out this bottle of wine?” he called over his shoulder.

Your eyes grazed over his silhouette, admiring his stellar ass in those tiny shorts. “Sure, let’s do it!”

Goku rummaged around in the kitchen drawers. “Crap, I have no idea where to find a corkscrew.”

You rose from your place on the living room floor to help him look. “Well I sure hope you at least know how to use one, because I sure don’t! I only ever buy the cheap wine with the screw top.”

Goku bumped into you, then placed a hand on your hip to navigate around you in the kitchen. You blushed at the contact.

“Bulma’s not here, is she?” you asked. “We could ask her if she knows where it is.”

“No, she said she was heading back to West City to see her parents this weekend. And Vegeta said he’d be out late tonight.”

Way at the back of a stuck drawer, you felt a spiral shape. You turned and twisted it until the drawer could move again, finally able to extract the object. You held it up with a bright smile.

“Ta-da!” you said.

“Hey, nice!” Goku said, giving you a high-five. He took the corkscrew and carefully opened the fancy bottle to pour you both a glass.

You returned to the living room with two stemless crystal glasses as Goku made a quick trip to his bedroom.

“The library had the Tenkaichi movie on DVD!” he called down the hall as he returned. You sat on the edge in the middle of the couch, watching him lean over to load the DVD into the player. Those damn shorts are giving me heart palpitations, you thought. His body is godly.

Cheeks growing warmer by the second, you slid your cardigan off one shoulder for some much-needed cool air. You caught Goku’s eyes taking you in as he turned around, peeking at him over the rim of your wine glass.

“How’s it taste?” Goku asked, his voice quiet and soft.

You raised the crystal and gave it a swirl before taking a sip. You closed your eyes and breathed through your nose as you swallowed the aromatic liquid, a trail of pleasant warmth growing in your chest.

“Expensive,” you said. You both laughed.

Goku grabbed the remote and sat on your right, his left arm automatically fanning over the back of the couch cushion. Once he started the movie, he exchanged the remote for his glass of wine, taking a sizable swig.

“Hm, it’s sweeter than I expected. The last time I tried wine, I felt like it sucked all the moisture out of my mouth,” Goku said.

You took another sip. “Yeah, this one is nice and mild. I could drink the whole bottle of this,” you said, your head starting to feel pleasantly heavy.

Eager to move closer to your date, you sat back into the couch and tucked your feet up, leaning onto your hip. There was still space between the two of you, but it was Goku’s turn to come to you next.

The movie began with a vibrant action scene, filling the dark room with bright flashes of light. After draining half of his glass, Goku leaned forward and placed it on the coffee table. When he leaned back, he closed the small gap between you, nestling your shoulder under his wing on the back of the couch. A rush filled you immediately, and you happily leaned your weight into his firm torso. At that, Goku moved his arm from the couch cushion to rest across your shoulders. Another pleasing rush of adrenaline raced through you. You licked your lips and sipped on the wine.

“This okay?” he said, barely above a whisper.

You gave a smile and warm mm-hmm before placing your glass on the table and snuggling up to him even more. His thighs spread slightly, making his leg press into yours. Like chess opponents trading moves, you thought about what your next move should be. Your mind flashed back to the last time you saw Goku. That blue tank top had shown off his pecs just right…

Biting your lip, you leaned your head over to rest your burning cheek against his chest. With your ear pressed to him, you could hear his heart beating wildly. The excitement of snuggling up with such a handsome guy was not lost on you, as your heart was purring like an engine. His pecs really did make for a great pillow.

Goku began brushing his fingers softly over your exposed shoulder. You sighed happily and relaxed into his touch.

“You’re comfy,” you said as you worked your arms around his waist. He leaned back, pulling you into him even more.

“Thanks,” he chuckled. “You’re cute.”

“Thanks,” you breathed, heart leaping at the compliment.

As the movie progressed, you paid less attention to it and more to every fiber of Goku’s body. After polishing off your glasses of wine and feeling delightfully buzzed, you curled up even further into him, feet tucked up and thighs falling over onto his. Your head also migrated from resting atop his muscular chest to nuzzling into his neck. All it would take would be a subtle movement to start kissing his neck…

It took a while to muster the courage to make such a bold move. It was only your first date after all. Perhaps this was moving too fast. But he really did seem into you. And you were undoubtedly into him. While gently petting your hand over his chest, you parted your lips, and allowed a steamy breath to escape and tickle his neck. His heart began to drum hard enough for you to feel. You let your lips touch his skin with a feather-light press. Goku’s dark eyes slid closed with your next kiss, the fullness of your gorgeous mouth lighting up each nerve along his neck. You gave a gentle suck to it, causing a sweet sigh to fall from his lips. You trailed your hand up to hold the opposite side of his neck as your tongue began to tease him with tiny kitten licks, then bold circles.

Goku’s hand went from your shoulder to the back of your head, guiding you. You felt his pulse pound as you kissed him. His other hand found your wrist and squeezed.

“Hah,” he breathed. “Need to kiss you.”

You pulled back enough to look at his handsome face. His cheeks were pleasantly pink and his eyes were dazed and dreamy behind his frames. He took your chin with one hand and brought your mouth up to his, finally letting your hot breaths intermingle before he sweetly caressed your lips with his own. Goku’s tongue softly brushed over your lip, silently pleading for yours. You obliged and his tongue invaded to massage yours. Every movement was slow and sensual, tender yet incredibly erotic.

While shifting yourself to face Goku more fully, your leg brushed past something hard, and you were certain it wasn’t just his meaty thighs. Your core heated and revved like a racecar. Unable to keep them suppressed, sighs and heavy breaths from Goku encouraged you to continue kissing.

“W-wait,” Goku said, pulling away slightly. “You aren’t too drunk for this, are you?”

You pulled back further and looked at him, his black eyes full of concern. Your heart clenched. What a sweetheart!

“No,” you giggled, pulling his glasses off and placing them next to your empty wine glasses. “I may be a bit buzzed, but I’m fully aware of what I’m doing. And I don’t intend to stop.”

With that, you climbed over Goku to straddle his lap. Without the black frames, his eyes shone with gentleness, and lust. Using his shoulders for support, you adjusted yourself atop his lap until you found exactly what you were looking for. His lips fell open with a sharp, breathy groan.

“This okay?” you asked as you returned your mouth to his.

Goku kissed you between heated breaths as he gripped your thighs. “Hahh, yeah. Definitely.”

You shrugged off your cardigan and tossed it aside as you made out. One of your hands worked into Goku’s wild hair as his hands wandered up to your hips. He pulled you towards him, chest to chest, and your tight jean shorts gave you both a taste of delicious friction. That made him shove his tongue messily down your throat, like he was slowly fucking your mouth. You whined, grinding your hips down. He responded with a tight squeeze to your ass.

“I’ve… I’ve never really done this whole hooking up thing before,” he admitted.

You scratched his scalp lightly, making his eyes flutter in pleasure. “We don’t have to go any further.”

“But that’s the problem,” he said, kissing your throat. “I don’t wanna stop. You’re really hot and I don’t know if I can control myself.”

You giggled as his lips trailed down to your collarbone, sweet sensations filling you from head to core. “Then by all means, continue.”

“You gotta tell me if you wanna stop, or if I go too far.” He slid the strap of your cami and kissed your shoulder.

“Okay. And you do, too,” you breathed as his fingers softly traced your arm.

Just the touch of his hands was enough to make your eyes fall closed in bliss, and you wanted his big hands all over you. Under your shirt, on your waist, in your shorts…

“Can’t believe you aren’t bringing girls back every night. You’re so fucking hot,” you said as he sucked on your pulse point.

He smirked and took your cheek in in his palm. “I’m not a fuck boy. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.” He gave you the most saccharine kiss yet, making you melt completely in his lap. “Which reminds me…” He pulled back slightly to look you in the eyes. “This… Isn’t just gonna be a one time thing, is it? Because I really do like you, and I want to get to know you.”

You smiled and put your hands on his gorgeous chest. “I like you too, Goku. And I’d love to get to know you better, and make out with you more, too.”

He gave a glowing smile and endearing chuckle. If he were any cuter, you feared your heart may burst. “Yeah, I really like kissing you. Like, a lot.”

And so you did just that. Desperate yet tender, Goku’s tongue reconnected with yours as your hips began to roll against his. Those shorts of his were blessedly thin, and your tight denim put pressure right on your sweet spot.

“Mm, touch me more,” you pleaded.

“Where?” he whispered.

“Anywhere. Everywhere.”

You took Goku’s lower lip between your teeth as his big hands roamed freely. His thumbs brushed the undersides of your breasts, then boldly over the fullness of them just as your hips hitched against his stiff cock print. A moan ripped from your throat.

You gripped the back of the couch on either side of Goku’s head and started working your hips into a rhythm. It was agonizingly slow for him, just enough stimulation to tease and make him want more. Foreheads sealed together, mouths exchanging breaths, you humped his lap as he tenderly squeezed your tits.

“Can you go faster?” he asked, a desperate tremble to his voice. You grinned and did as he asked while bringing your chest close to his face. He pressed your breasts together and kissed the tops of them, slightly pulling down the top of your camisole. You slid the straps off your shoulders and pulled the shirt down to expose your tits to him. Goku’s eyes shone brightly as they drank you in. “Fuck. You’re perfect,” he praised, circling his thumbs over your nipples.

“Use your mouth.”

He obeyed immediately, placing delicate kisses over one while softly pinching the other. You sighed and rewarded him by continuing to hump him. But he teased you, only lightly lapping your nipple with his sweet tongue.

“Mm, harder,” you whined.

Goku proved to be pleasantly obedient, taking your directions well. He sucked and pulled back to let your tit bounce, then sought your eyes for approval. You groaned in pleasure and mussed his hair, forcing his head back to your chest. One of his large hands supported your upper back, the other smearing saliva over your pert nipple. The telltale tingle between your thighs was beginning to grow steadily. Based on the way he was whining and bucking underneath you, Goku was feeling good, too.

“Damnit, please don’t make me ruin these shorts by cumming in them,” he begged.

You slowed your pace and lifted Goku’s chin. “Where do you want to cum then?”

His pupils wide in awe, he failed to form any coherent words. “I… Well, wha…”

“Aw, did I make you dumb already, big boy?” you patronized.

“I was never that smart to begin with.” His expression was dreamy and he stared up at you like you were a goddess.

You giggled and stood up. “Why don’t you let me finish you off?”

You got on your knees between his, your breasts still exposed and holding his attention. Your soft hands rubbed up his sculpted thighs, sneaking under the hem of his shorts. His eyes met yours as you palmed his aching cock. His perfectly kissable lips hung open as you teased him, and his throaty little moans each sent a pulse straight to your pussy.

As you pulled at the waistband of his shorts, you saw two wet spots of precum had soaked through, a sign of a job well done by you. Goku lifted his hips and pulled down the obstruction to reveal his gloriously sized dick. You almost growled at the sight, feral with desire.

“Holy shit,” you said, eyes devouring the perfect specimen before you. The tip was fat and shiny, begging for your lips to wrap around it. “This still okay?”

He blew a puff of air through his nose. “Of course.”

You wrapped your index finger and thumb around his thick cock, teasing up and down his shaft slowly. He tried to strangle his moan in his throat. You met his eyes as he reclined and you lightly pressed a kiss to his tip, then trailed more kisses down one side of his length. You never would have guessed he could made such sinful sounds from his candy-sweet personality, but each noise weakened you. Eye contact still unbroken, your lips finally enveloped his cockhead, then pulled off with an obscene slurp. One hand on his shaft and the other squeezing his thigh, you circled your tongue around Goku’s beautiful cock. Worshipping it with your mouth and hearing his vocal approval made you clench your leg muscles, stimulating yourself.

“Decided where you wanna cum yet?” you asked as you licked up the underside, making him shudder.

“Ahh… I’m really not picky,” he chuckled.

With that, you started sucked him off with purpose and vigor, eager to hear his whines of pleasure. Your saliva dripped down, making a mess of him as your hand twisted and pulled. You kept constant pressure and pleasure on him, making his moans pitch up. They came in short, desperate bursts and you finally dove deep, taking his entire length down your throat in one swift motion. As you lifted to dive down again, Goku gripped the arm of the couch with one hand and guided your head with the other. While his touch was light on you, you feared his intense strength might rip the upholstery of the poor couch.

“Ahh, almost there!” Goku cried, hips beginning to twitch.

End in sight, you watched his face as you sucked him. A few final strokes and one beastly growl had him shooting hot strings down your throat. His brows knit together tightly, mouth hanging open, head tossing. He writhed in pleasure as you slowed, swallowing every drop he offered you. And it was a lot. You swallowed at least three times, taking more cum each time. Even when your mouth left him, tiny beads formed at the slit of his cock. You smeared them with you thumb, then licked him clean.

“Hope you didn’t mind that I decided for you,” you panted, proud of your hard work.

Goku slumped on the couch wearing a dazed expression. “I can barely move. Damn,” he said with a soft chuckle. “But what can I do for you now?”

Just as a grin started to form, the sound of someone unlocking the front door jolted you both out of your haze. Your eyes grew wide.

“Vegeta’s back already?” Goku whispered, frantically stuffing himself back inside his shorts as you fixed your shirt. You stood quickly enough to make your head spin and grabbed your empty wine glasses to busy yourself. Just as you made it to the kitchen to wash the glasses (and your hand covered in spit and cum), Vegeta shoved his way through the front door. You gave him a soapy-handed wave.

“Hey Vegeta,” you said, hoping he wouldn’t take a long enough look at you to notice your flushed face, neck, and chest. Thankfully, he just gave you a grunt in reply.

“You’re back early,” Goku said, a lilt in his voice.

“Not really,” Vegeta grumbled, barely giving Goku a glance as he passed. His bedroom door shut with a stern thud.

“Sounds like he had a bad day,” you mused.

Goku stood from the couch and replaced his eyeglasses. “Well, yeah. He’s jealous that you picked me over him.”

Your heart screeched to a halt. “Wait. What are you talking about?”

He tilted his head and padded over to you at the sink. “Bulma said that you said you had a better connection with me.”

Your cheeks began to burn. “She told you I said that? But she said one of you asked about me! She told me to guess which one! I couldn’t decide which of you I liked better, so she… That Bulma!” You dried your hands and tossed the dish towel onto the counter, pouting that Bulma had tricked you into making a decision. “Wait, so neither one of you actually asked her about me?”

Goku smiled warmly. “Actually, we both did. As soon as Vegeta got back from his lab, we had an argument about which one of us was gonna get to ask you out. Bulma overheard us and told us she’d figure out who you liked better!”

“But I just flipped a coin! Literally, I couldn’t decide!” you laughed.

“You did? So you didn’t really pick me at all, did you?” Goku asked, looking like a kicked puppy.

You stood on your toes and reached your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sensual kiss.

“Fate picked you for me. And for the record, I’m really, really glad it was you, Goku.” His hands held your waist as he returned your kiss. When you pulled back, his sugary smile had renewed completely and his eyes sparkled with affection.

“Me too.”

tags: @artof-aristocracy @ghostlylovesstuff

[stardustdreams-andcaffeine]

Reluctant Protector | Din Djarin

Part 1 of 2

Din Djarin x Fem!reader

Summary: After being abandoned as a child, you grew up working for one of the most prolific crime lords in the galaxy in order to survive. It all comes crashing down as a split second decision has the Mandalorian hunting you. As it turns out, your hunter might be the only one who can save you. After all, the lines between predator and prey have always been blurred.

Warnings: angst (what's new), mild language, panic attack, violence, fluff, mentions of human trafficking (brief), Mando being a fool in love, adult themes throughout, happy ending (again, what's new)

A/N: This one was from the request that I accidentally deleted (i'm so mad at myself), but it was RIGHT up my alley lol. I hope my sweet anonymous finds this and I hope it is everything you wanted and more 🤍 ALSO! I got sooo carried away so it's a two-parter for ease of reading. You can find part 2 below!

Part 2

You never should have met the Mandalorian Bounty Hunter. 

You never should have left the comfort of your home planet as a child. You never should have known anything besides the warmth of your mother's arms. It does not make sense that someone like you would meet someone like him. It should not have been possible, not in a million sun cycles.

So how did your story and the Mandalorian's tangle? How did ‘never’ get overcome so easily, so swiftly?

The answer is rather simple. Anything that never should have been was thrown from impossible to possible the night your parents left on a date night when you were seven years old.

And never came back.

|||

You remembered everything from that night.

You remembered the way the rain pattered against the large window in the common room of your cozy home. You remembered the spread of stars peeking out from behind the rain clouds, ready to shine their light upon the newly-brought night. You remembered everything from that night, including the look upon your father's face when he said goodbye.

You were too young to understand it then, too little to catch the hint of despair and shred of desperation as he ushered your emotionless mother out of the front door.

"Be back before bedtime, mama! You have to finish that story you started last night," Your little voice rang out, a smile spread on your lips.

Your mother, almost numb, did not respond. Strange, she always did.

Noticing your growing frown, your father smiled, but it did not reach his eyes, "Goodbye, little one. We'll be back before you know it"

"Have a good night," You called back, already humming to yourself as you played with the toys your father had spilled out in a hurry before you, "Love you lots!"

You did not even glance up as the door shut, did not even seem to notice that, for the first time, your parents did not say they loved you too. Looking back, it was hard to fathom you had missed all of the signs. But you were just a kid, a kid. How could you have known? How could you have guessed?

How were you to predict that your parents would not walk back through that door?

When they did not make it back in time to say goodnight, you hadn't thought much about it. When you woke up and they still had not returned, confusion began to ring within your young, innocent soul. For the first day, you lost the worry to the joy that you did not have to go to lessons today. You ate what you wanted and played for as long as you liked, but when night came once more, you wondered when mama would return to finish her story.

The food ran out a week later, and it would only be a few more days until you would find out why exactly your parents had not returned.

Your small fingers worked anxiously on the drawing before you. It was all you could do not to burst into tears. Your mother and father were still not back, and you were hungry. You knew you'd have to go into town soon, but you had no money and no adults to protect you.

What had happened to mama and papa, you wondered? Were they hurt? Were they...were they dead?

That was when the front door opened for the first time in a week and a half, and your life changed forever.

You gasped as the door swung open, hope flooding your small being. You jumped to your feet swiftly and, with a bright smile upon your lips, sprinted blindly towards the man who had just walked through the door.

"Papa! I'm so-"

Your words died as you skidded to a halt before the looming Zeltron male before you. This wasn't your father, and your mother was nowhere near him. Taking a hesitant step back, your bottom lip began to tremble.

"Who are you?" You whispered, your small hands shaking and your youthful voice higher-pitched than normal. The magenta-skinned male tilted his head down at you, seeming to examine you closely for a moment.

"Vince Hanon," He replied, his voice smooth and flooded with calculation, "Your father owed me a great debt."

That was when you noticed the towering goons behind Vince, strapped to the teeth with blasters and blades alike. Your eyes widened a fraction before anger boiled through your blood. They hurt your parents, they were the reason mama hadn't come home.

Swifter than Vince or his men could predict, you shot to the side and grabbed one of the long-forgotten toys along the ground and hurled it at the tall Zeltron.

To your dismay, he caught it with ease.

A smirk danced on his face as he glanced at the toy and then at you with what seemed to be mirth. Without a word, his guards stalked forward, one pulling a pair of metal cuffs as he neared you. Surprisingly, Vince held out a single hand, stopping all movements of his men.

"Sir?" One asked, glancing back at him, "The next shipment of children leaves soon. If she is to join, we should-"

"Do not give this one to the Trade," Vince ordered, walking past his men and up to you. Ever so slowly, he knelt before you, "She is young enough to learn, and strong enough to survive."

"Survive what?" You blurted, your heart pounding in your chest, "What's the Trade? What are you going to do with me?"

Vince laughed deeply before you, "So many questions, child. You'll have your answers."

He stood before you, extending down a purple hand, "Come, I'm sure you're hungry."

And so, with no other choice, you took the strange man's hand and left.

Vince never lied to you. He told you the moment you left your home that your father had lost everything trying to pay back the debt he owed Vince. With nothing left to give but his only child, he had offered you up for the child slave trade.

For reasons you would never truly come to know, Vince did not trade you. In fact, he traded no other child after that night.

He informed you that he was the head of a group of people who did bad things for good reasons and rewards. It wouldn't be for another couple years until you understood that meant he was a Crime Lord. What he was doing was wrong, what he was training you to do was wrong.

But you were a kid, and you did what you had to do to survive.

You're not a kid anymore.

|||

Present Day

The barely-used knife pressed its soothing cool into the skin of your thigh as you sauntered through the compound. As you passed the counterparts you had known since childhood, they stepped aside with wary smiles.

They knew your true knife was not the blade with which you had a slightly below average affinity. It was your tongue.

“Look who it is, Vince’s little prodigy.” The sound of the ever-present guards outside of Vince Hanon’s office called out to you, their lips turned up in a not entirely taunting smirk. 

“Good morning, lackeys,” You greeted in return, stopping before the large, steel door that held your boss’s office behind it, “Vince sent word that he wanted to see me, another assignment apparently.”

One of the guards snickered slightly, “Hopefully it has nothing to do with using that blade on your thigh. Vince’s little prodigy would be too dead to report.”

“So funny,” You deadpan, shaking your head at the guard.

“You know, if Vince let you train with me as a child you would be proficient in the ways of combat,” The one who spoke first insisted. With a taunting smile, you walked up to the door and patted the guard’s shoulder.

“I’d also be as stupid as you, which is exactly why he didn’t.”

The laughter of the two guards filled your ears and brought a smile to your lips as you pushed the button on the panel beside the door. The steel whooshed aside, revealing Vince’s office. With that easy smile still on your lips, you greet the Zeltron who saved you as a child. His magenta skin gleamed in the sunlight that streamed in through the massive windows that made up the far wall of the office, and his white teeth were a stark contrast to the dark color as he looked up to you and smiled.

It did not go unnoticed that he only smiled at you like that.

Vince Hanon had no lover and no children, but anyone who knew a fraction about him knew that the closest thing he had to family was an abandoned child whose life he’d spared all those years ago. He wasn’t the father you’d always dreamed of, but he was the one you had. He hadn’t sold you for profit as your first father had, he hadn’t let you play with toys or even be a child in those first years under his care, but he had made you independent in this cruel, uncaring galaxy. That was something so very few women got to be. 

Vince Hanon made you self-sufficient when you should have died long ago, and it was that reason alone that made you grateful to him. Not caring, as a daughter would be to her father, as you knew he was with you, but grateful.

“My Prodigy,” Vince called out, standing from his massive mahogany desk carved with images of bones and crumbled towers along the legs, “It is always a pleasure to see you.”

“And you, Vince.” Your words were fluid and easy, not entirely a lie. A part of your heart was caught in anxious anticipation, though. 

You knew what came next. You knew he’d give you an assignment that made every part of your soul cringe. You knew what came next would push you further down the path of corruption and darkness. You knew, with a biting horror that never seemed to leave you alone, that after a few more years of doing his bidding, that small voice that whispered its disgust would go quiet. 

And you’d be just like Vince.

“I was pleased to see your last assignment was handled with efficiency and discreteness,” Vince complimented. You nodded obediently, your hands clasped before you.

“The debtor did not have the credits to pay the balance due, so it seemed the Hothian government misplaced the deed to her home.” You reported, the words less bitter on your tongue than they would have been a few years ago. 

“And it was found with my name on it,” Vince finished for you, allowing a deep chuckle to resonate through the room as he walked to your side. He put his arm along your shoulders, pulling you to his side and walking with you towards the back of his office space, “Good work, my Prodigy. I am impressed with how far you have come.”

“Thank you, Vince.” 

Your jaw was tight and that nagging grew in your soul. He was pleased that you’d placed an elderly woman onto the streets to repay the debt she owed. The debt to Vince for saving her son’s life after Vince had been the one to order his death.

Is this truly who you were now? 

The thought did not last long, as you shoved it deep down and locked it in the same room in your mind where you kept that little girl sleeping in front of an unopened door, waiting for her parents. You did what you had to in order to survive. You had no choice. 

How much longer would that lie placate you?

“I have been thinking,” Vince began again, stopping near the far wall of his office where a massive box covered with a large cloth sits. He removed his arm from your shoulders and stepped back to face you, “There is no one in this organization that I trust more than you.”

You blinked in surprise, the words slamming through you.You did not quite know how to feel when your trained eyes examined his features and expression and saw that he meant it, saw that he looked at you as a father would their child. Vince had trained you to see tells in a person’s face, and you saw none in his.

“You honor me, boss.”

Vince took a moment to simply examine your face, his eyes seeming to search for something. When he seemed to not find it, a small, real smile began on his lips. 

“I have one more assignment for you,” Vince informed, that smile growing as he took another step back and closer to the covered box, “And if you succeed, I want to make you my Second.”

The world seemed to stop spinning for a moment. Your eyes widened a fraction, your mouth dropping open the slightest bit. His Second, he wanted to make you his Second.

“But that would mean…” You trailed off, your eyes desperately searching for a tell of a lie on his face. You found none.

“You would take over for me when I retire.” Vince finished for you. 

“Vince, I couldn’t-”

“Yes, you could.” His interruption was accompanied by a hand to your shoulder, “You have earned this, my Prodigy. You deserve this.”

His Second. You would lead this organization one day, you would be the next Vince Hanon. You would have power and control. No more would you have to fear for the next meal or the next morning. You’d be safe, in control, in power. You could change the way this was run, maybe even do some good. 

This was the answer to the nagging in your chest, the horror in your soul. You could have a shot at redemption for all that you’ve done.

“Thank you, boss.” You whispered hoarsely, your voice not hiding an ounce of your emotion. Vince nodded and stepped back, those calculating eyes sweeping over your figure.

“Just one more assignment, child. One more, and it’s all yours.” 

“Anything.” Your response was stronger this time, your eyes holding a hope that hadn’t been there since you were a child. 

“A recent debtor repaid his debt. I need you to take care of it.” Vince’s words barely registered in your mind. All you could think of was your freedom. Then he pulled the cloth off of the box, and you realized it wasn’t a box at all.

It was a cage.

With a small gasp, your mind snapped back to this moment. The freedom you’d almost been able to taste came crashing down, and that horror roared in your soul so loudly that you actually stumbled back a step. 

There was a child in that cage, a little girl who looks to be the same age that you were all those years ago.

“But you…you stopped selling to the Trade,” Your voice was a breath, your words ringing with terror. 

“I did,” Vince conceded, stroking a hand along the cage’s bars and making the young girl in it recoil back as far as she could in the cramped space, “And my profits since have taken a steep drop. If I am to cement your future, I need to build up our reputation and savings again. I need to make sure every crime syndicate from here to the Outer Rim knows not to mess with us, with you.”

You were shaking your head, your heart racing and your mind fraying apart as if you hadn’t spent the entirety of your life fortifying it and trying desperately to forget. 

“I can’t,” You gasped, shaking your head and taking back a step, “I can’t-”

“Yes you can,” Vince soothed, stepping up to you and holding your arms, “You’re ready for this. Think of everything this could bring you.”

Oh you were. As you stared into that scared little girl’s eyes, it was all you could think about. You were stuck awfully between flashes of your abandonment and what your future would look like if you did this one last assignment. The loneliness in the empty house, the empire you could build. The hunger that had set in after a week alone, the security of always having another meal. The betrayal that had burrowed deep in your chest, the power you could fill its hole with. 

“She’s just another trade, a simple barter. Nothing more than the deed to a home.” Vince’s voice was an echo of your thoughts, the devil on your shoulder. 

It would be so easy, so easy. After everything that you had been through, why should you care how your safety and freedom was bought? You deserved it, your life has been anything but fair. It would be easy. One trade, and the world, the very galaxy, would be in the palm of your hands.

But would your soul ever recover? Would you ever be able to look at yourself in a mirror again? You knew what happened to little girls who went into the trade, for being in this business you knew all too well of the perversions of the people in this galaxy. 

Could you live with this? 

Vince saw the flash of an answer in your eyes a moment too late. 

The knife was already in your hand and thrown by the time Vince had just begun to open his mouth and shout for his guards. The knife lodged into his shoulder even though you’d been aiming for something more lethal. It was enough to stop him from rushing you, though. You sped forward and tackled him to the ground with every ounce of strength you had. His cry of pain was muffled by the hand you slapped over his mouth. In a quick move, you ripped the knife free from his shoulder and angled it at his throat. 

Vince went as silent as death, his eyes wide with betrayal, with…with hurt.

Your chest squeezed painfully at the look in his eyes as you moved your hand from covering his mouth. He didn’t scream, he knew better, “My child, I’ve given you the world.”

His words were choked with tears, you realized suddenly. To your surprise, tears of your own gathered in your eyes.

“I’m not your child,” You whispered, clenching your jaw to keep your resolve, “And I don’t want the world if this is what it costs.”

There was a flash of rage in his eyes, and it made your stomach drop. You’d seen it before, but never directed at you.

“You do this,” His words were calculated and controlled, barely veiling his growing anger, “And I will never stop hunting you. I will show you just what I spared you from when you were a child.”

Something broke within your chest at the thought, but for the first time since seven years old, you weren’t shoving down guilt to do something. You could feel your heart open and free, your soul resting for once, and you knew that this was what you had to do. You need to be able to live with yourself, even if it means you lived a short life. 

You are better than this, than everything you have done to survive. 

You aren’t a kid anymore. You have a choice.

“So be it,” You murmured, and then slammed the handle of the knife against Vince’s temple. He was out cold as soon as the blow was delivered, which was surprising in itself. That move had never worked before for you. You’re glad it had now, because as you stood and moved away from the magenta-skinned Crime Lord, you realized that this was freedom. 

You’re free now, and it was better than the freedom that you would have bought with the trading of your soul.

Without another thought to the consequences of your actions, you turned and sprinted over to the cage where the little girl sat crouched as far as she could in the corner. Her eyes were wide with fear and confusion and hope as she looked up at you. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” You soothed, stooping down in front of the cage and looking at the lock. 

Once you saw the shape of the key needed, you stood and jogged to Vince’s massive desk. It only took a few moments of searching before you snagged the key from under a stack of papers and forms. 

A knock sounded on the massive steel door, but it thankfully remained closed, “Everything alright in there?”

Your pulse spiked dangerously and your heart missed a beat. 

“Everything’s fine, lackeys,” You responded coolly, almost sounding bored, “Vince had to grab something from his chambers.”

This seemed to placate them, and you’re relieved that Vince’s chambers are attached to his office through a door at the very back. Knowing time was running out, you sprinted to the cage and crouched once more. Your fingers trembled as you undid the lock and threw the door open. The girl sat pressed into the far corner, and you let out a panicked breath as you extended a hand out to her.

“Come on, kid. We don’t have much time left.”

She examined your hand for an agonizingly long moment before realizing you weren’t going to hurt her. To your relief, she quickly took your outstretched hand and crawled out as fast as she could. You kept her hand in yours and tugged her towards the door at the back wall that leads to Vince’s room.

“How are we going to get out?” She mumbled. You pressed the button beside the door and it slid open easily, revealing a room of black silk and deep emerald walls. Tugging the girl in, you shut the door and made sure to press the lock button before pulling her towards the wall beside Vince’s bed.

You released her hand for a moment as you approached the massive painting that rested on the wall. Your fingers searched the edges desperately until they found a small button.

“Vince showed this to me when I was your age,” You panted, pushing the button and swinging the painting aside, “He kept it for a quick escape if the compound was ever raided.”

A large, dark hole was in the wall behind the painting—a chamber that led directly to the back of the compound. The young girl shook her head slightly, her eyes going wide as she peered into the dark reaches of the cavernous chamber.

“I can’t,” She whispered, her voice trembling, “It’s too scary, I can’t. I-”

Before you could even console her, the sound of a fist pounding on the steel door to the office in the other room echoed through the walls, “Boss, you in there? What’s going on?”

Your heart nearly stopped and you knew the guards, as stupid as they were, would notice the silence soon enough. Swirling back to the young girl, you did not wait for her response before you hoisted her into your arms and put her into the escape passageway. Thankfully, the girl had the sense to remain quiet despite her obvious trepidation as she waited in the dark for you to climb in after her. Once you had, you closed the painting as quietly as you could just as you heard the office being raided. 

It was only a matter of time before they would see Vince unconscious and venture into his bedroom beyond. You had to move, and fast.

“Come on,” You urged, finding the girl’s hand in the dark and tugging her down the passageway. As you moved down a flight of stairs, you pressed the small button on your metal bracelet, releasing a soft glow of light bright enough to illuminate your next steps and banish the girl’s fear of the dark. 

“Will they find us?” She panted, her small hand gripping yours tightly. 

“They shouldn’t,” You replied, your eyes straining into the dark beyond the small glow of your bracelet as you took turns and twists and more passages to the depths of the compound, “Vince only told me about the passage.”

Even though that should have eased the girl’s tension, her grip on your hand did not relax. It took a few minutes of deep silence before she finally spoke again. 

“You really were his favorite,” She breathed, a certain tremor in her voice. You could practically feel the weight of her large eyes burning into the side of your face.

For some reason, her words knocked you on your ass. This young girl knew who Vince Hanon was before she was taken by him, and she knew enough to have heard about you. Was this how the galaxy saw you? As Vince Hanon’s adopted daughter?

The thought made you shudder.

“Why did you betray him for me?” She asked into the thick silence, and a pang shot through your chest.

Your feet faltered, and you stopped the breakneck pace you’d been going at. With a trembling breath, you turned and looked back at the young child. The light from your bracelet lit up the contours of her face, the tear stains etched into her skin and the trauma haunting her young, innocent gaze.

“Because I was you a long time ago.” You swallowed, sudden tears swimming in your gaze as you took in the small child who nearly met such a cruel fate, “Because Vince saved me, and there was no one to save you.”

The words stung some deep, confused part of your chest. A part of you would always…be indebted to Vince. He was the holder of your chains, the destroyer of your moral compass, the tyrant of your life. But, no matter how much you tried to forget it, he saved you. He saved you when your own father would not, and he raised you as his own. 

Some twisted part of you would always pity him, even though you knew you shouldn’t.

That’s why, without a word, you smiled sadly at the girl before turning and leading her the rest of the way out of the passage.

|||

The entire city was on high alert. 

Moments after the girl and you emerged from the escape passageway and into a back alley miles from the compound, you heard the shouts and the sirens in the distance. Vince had run this city with an iron fist, he did not tolerate betrayal and the people knew that. But now, the King of Crime had been crossed by his own Prodigy.

Every goon he had working for him was now hunting for you.

Doors were shut and windows locked. The streets were empty and the last few stragglers were in no rush to speak to anyone they did not have to. Even now, only a few minutes after the crime had been announced publicly, Vince’s guards swarmed the streets, pounding on doors and demanding entry for searches.

“They’re everywhere,” The young girl you saved panted as you sprinted with her down back alleys and through abandoned shops, “Where will we go?”

“I still have some friends,” You assured in response, stopping suddenly at the back door of a normal, unassuming home miles down from where Vince’s guards were searching. Without pausing to explain to the girl, you pounded your fist desperately against the door. There was a rush of steps before an old, hoarse voice called out.

“We are closed to visitors right now. Come back later.”

“It’s me,” Is all you said in response. 

The old fashioned door swung open almost instantly. You had to squint against the sudden flood of light until you could just make out the older woman who stood in the doorway peering down at you and the girl with calculating eyes. She swung her gaze between the terrified child and you before she finally let out a long sigh. 

“You finally did it,” She mused, catching your gaze with a knowing look. 

“He asked something of me I couldn’t do,” You informed, trying to sound detached even though your entire heart was upon your sleeve, “And I need your help.”

Behind the old woman, children zoomed back and forth of all species and ages. They laughed and played jovially, unaware of the chaos outside. This place was an Orphanage, one you visited quite often with what little money you had left after Vince’s paychecks. You never allowed the Orphanage Keeper to tell you her name for her own sake, but she’d made it clear that she would be at your service should you ever need it.

You needed it now.

The Keeper looked down at the young girl who still held your hand in a tight grip and hummed, “She’ll fit right in, the guards won’t even know the difference.”

Relief broke over you, and you turned from The Keeper to stoop down in front of the confused child. 

“What’s happening?” The young girl interrogated, her voice quivering.

“This place is safe for you, The Orphanage Keeper will take good care of you. She’ll make sure you find a home and lead a normal life.”

She caught on to your tone quickly, realizing you were going to leave her here. She began to shake her head and back up from the doorway, “No, you can’t leave me. Please don’t leave me!”

Your heart shattered. Those words had haunted your own soul since you were just as old as she is. They’ve bounced around in your memories in ways you’ll never be able to put into words. To hear them come from her…Tears you did not try to hide fought their way to your gaze as you grasped the young girl’s shoulders.

“They won’t look for you, they’ll be too busy hunting me. As long as you’re near me, you will not be safe,” You explained, smiling sadly at the girl and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “We’ll see each other again, I just know it”

The girl sniffled, but nodded and slowly stepped away from you. The Keeper smiled down at the child, extending her hand, “Come, little one. Go on inside, I’ll be in soon to show you where you’ll be staying.”

With one last look back at you, the young girl turned and walked into the Orphanage. You stood slowly, watching her retreat into the building of laughing children. When she didn’t look back to you after that, you knew that she’d survive, that she’d make it. 

“I have a ship. It’s old and hasn’t been run in ages, but it’ll get you off-world.”The Keeper’s rushed words snapped you back to reality and you looked up at her. Nodding, you ran a hand through your hair and gathered yourself back together. 

“Don’t go to the Outer Rim,” The Keeper continued, rummaging through the small compartment by the door before she pulled out a small bag, “He’ll look there first. Try Coruscant, it’s swarming with New Republic. Vince wouldn’t dare go there.”

You nodded swiftly, your mind swimming with the rising surrealness of the perilous situation. Before you could turn and leave into the dark of night, The Keeper stepped forward and pressed the small bag into your palm. With furrowed brows, you looked down to your hand to inspect the small gift. Realizing exactly what was inside, you gazed back up at the woman sharply with wide eyes.

“You can’t give this to me, I can’t take this. It’s too much,” You rambled, trying to push the bag of credits back to The Keeper. She simply closed her weathered hands around yours and pushed the bag back towards you with a smile.

“This does not even begin to make up for all of the support you’ve given me over the years,” She rasped, tears glistening in her eyes as she realized exactly what you already know. 

This was goodbye. You would not see her again. 

“Thank you,” You breathed, knowing if you spoke any louder you'd be choking on tears. You were thanking The Orphanage Keeper for more than the credits in your hand. Through the years, no matter what horrors you committed for Vince and his gang, this Orphanage always reminded you of the light that still flickered in your soul. It reminded you that you were good. 

“May the Force be with you,” The Keeper blessed, and your heart squeezed at the unfamiliar words. 

“And with you.”

Then you turned and ran into the night, leaving behind the light of the Orphanage and its Keeper for good. It wasn’t long before you made it to the ship The Keeper told you about, and it’s even less time before you’re shooting up into the atmosphere and leaving the planet behind. As you set the ship’s coordinates to Coruscant, your mind raced. 

How far will Vince go to get you back? To repay your betrayal in blood as you knew he would? 

Before you could even come up with an answer of your own, the bracelet on your wrist beeped with an incoming message. You extended your hand out before you, brows furrowed and pulse slowly picking up. The hologram that lit up in your palm knocked the breath from your lungs and sent your heart into a dangerous rhythm. 

The crackling hologram was simple and straightforward, projected not directly towards you, but to every known crime syndicate member and bounty hunter. 

It was a picture of your face, your lips turned up at the very edge in the beginning of a smile. The words below sealed your fate.

“Y/N Y/L/N—WANTED ALIVE

BOUNTY—2 MILLION NEW REPUBLIC CREDITS”

|||

The wind cracked like a whip against your skin as you ran. 

“You can’t run forever!” The shrill, sardonic shout of the Hunter made your fear spike as you sprinted through the crowded streets of Coruscant.

You would think that a New Republic-crowded planet like this one would mean at least one bystander extended their help as you so clearly ran for your life. Even these citizens and their senators knew the price of your bounty, though, and they did not raise a finger to help you. 

Probably the entire force of the Guild was after you considering how high Vince was willing to pay to get you back. With that high a bounty, odds were that no one was going to help you.

This particular Hunter was alone, a grateful difference from the last few that had come after you. Most had decided to come in groups and split the bounty, which made them much more difficult to elude considering you weren’t the stealthiest person alive. 

You ran desperately through the crowd that parted for you. Eventually you’d have to go back into the peril of open, abandoned areas, so you took advantage of the crowd as much as you could. You could see the end of the crowd in the distance, though, and knew that it was only a matter of time before the chase was just you and the Hunter and a stretch of open space between.

As you shoved through the last of the crowd that had kept the Hunter from firing his stun shots, you heard his voice ring out through the air, “No more hiding, sweetheart!”

Your eyes scanned desperately for another way out, for an escape plan or any plan really. Not having much of a choice, you took a hard right and sprinted into an alley. As a show to your incredibly bad luck, you found it to be a dead end. 

“Shit!” You panted, turning so fast on your heel that your shoes groaned against the pavement. You stumbled to a quick halt as you found the panting Bounty Hunter blocking your way out. 

“Vince Hanon wants you alive,” He mused, a slow smile spreading across his lips, “He didn’t say how alive.”

The Hunter raised his stun blaster and fired, but you’re expecting it and have already dive-rolled to the side. The shot soared past you, crackling as it did, and you wasted no time to see how close it came before you were on your feet and charging at the Hunter. With a war cry, you shoved the Hunter with your entire body weight before he could get another shot out. He grunted as he crashed into the wall, leaving the exit open for you to sprint out. 

You did so with a pounding heart, your mind racing to come up with as many plans as you can. You raced down the sparsely populated street, your mind speeding for a solution. 

If I can just make it into an outlet, then I-

A crackling fire erupted in your back and exploded across the entirety of your body. With a cry of pain, you dropped to the floor and could barely move your head to see the blue energy crackling across your being. Your body convulsed under the stun shot, momentarily paralyzed. 

No. No, no, no, no. This can’t be it.

The pounding of footsteps slowed as they approached your downed form. You looked up in rage and terror at the Bounty Hunter. He shoved his blaster back into its holster and shook his head down at you.

“What a pity,” He uttered, smiling that slick, nauseating smile again, “I was going to take it easy on you. But now?”

You thought quickly of everything you could offer the Hunter that was more valuable than two million credits. Desperation rang through you as you came up empty. 

“Please,” Your voice shook pathetically at the last attempt to save yourself, and tears gathered in your eyes. You could feel your body slowly come back under your control and you slid back and away from the Hunter. You hated this, you hated begging for your life. 

I can’t go back, was all you could think, I can’t let him have me again.

“I like it when you beg,” The Hunter mused, walking ever so slowly towards your downed, retreating form. He was taunting you, and you both knew it. 

When he finally reached you, he crouched and grabbed you by your legs, sliding you towards him. 

“No!” You bellowed, thrashing wildly in his grip as he pinned you with his weight, “You bastard! Let me go!” 

All sense and reason had left you. Begging wasn’t going to work and it only made him happier, so you wouldn’t try it again. All you had left was a burning terror in your gut of what would happen if Vince got you back. So, you fought the Hunter with all of the fire you had left. 

The first slam of his fist into your cheek made blood spray from your now-busted lip. He couldn’t secure both of your hands in time to stop you from clawing at his face. You couldn’t fight well, but you could do that. His shout of pain was music to your ears, but he quickly secured your fists with one hand and continued his onslaught with the other.

“Stupid bitch,” He panted between hits, making stars dance in your vision, “Barely worth the two million”

Those words shouldn’t have wounded you, but you couldn't stop the hurt that exploded in your chest. With unbridled emotions, you spit a mouthful of blood up at the Hunter. He reared back in disgust, wiping your blood off of his face and peering down at you in pure hate.

“Just for that,” Is all he said as he pulled out the stun blaster. Your eyes widened a fraction and you could barely turn your cheek to brace for impact when the sound of a blaster exploded through the air.

But it never hit you. 

Suddenly, the weight of the Hunter on you slid off and you turned your head up to see him crumpling to the ground with a burning hole in his chest. 

Pure dumb luck. 

Hope bursted through you as you scrambled to your feet and delivered an extra kick to the corpse, spitting more of your blood down on him before wiping it off your mouth with the back of your hand. You glanced up, looking around curiously for the one who fired and saved you. 

Your gratitude died when your eyes found him. 

The world slowed to an almost stop as panic, real and true, constricted your chest. Shining, dark silver beskar gleamed at you in the burning afternoon sunlight. He stood like an angel of death not thirty paces from you. You knew who he was, everyone knew who he was in your line of work.

The Mandalorian. Perhaps the best Bounty Hunter in the Guild, and the most ruthless.

He wasn’t saving you, he was taking your bounty for himself. 

You stumbled back, your entire body aching but your mind screaming at you to go, run!

The Mandalorian began to stalk towards you and you turned, breaking out into a desperate run. You could only limp, though, and you knew he’d be upon you before you could stop him. You glanced back as you continued your pathetic excuse for a run, and your heart missed a beat when you saw he had almost caught up to you. Turning your head back forward, tears swam in your vision. 

No, your mind repeated again and again and again, No, no, no

You couldn’t outrun him, you couldn’t outsmart him, you couldn’t overpower him. You were done. You were done, and the desperation in your chest revealed that you knew it.

Your exhaustion almost overpowered your adrenaline and you stumbled into the wall of a nearby building, bracing yourself against it as you tried to keep moving. Practically feeling his domineering presence behind you, your eyes searched the building’s edge for a weapon. The best you could find was an abandoned speeder wrench. You grasped the long tool in your trembling hand and whipped around, swinging the wrench with all of the strength you had left. 

Your heart faltered as the Mandalorian caught your wrist with ease, looking down at you with that emotionless, daunting helmet of beskar. His grip was tight, but not bruising, on your wrist, and you dropped the wrench. You watched his free hand grab a small device on his weapons belt, and you knew immediately it was some sort of stunning device similar to the other Hunter’s.

“Don’t do this.” You knew your plea fell on deaf ears, but you had to try, “Please don’t do this, I can’t go back.”

His head tilted down at you, but he didn't say a word. The warmth of his hand seeped through the gloves he wore and burned into your skin as he held your wrist. A tear slipped down your cheek, searing its path across your skin. You could feel yourself give up. 

You’d been running alone for nearly a week and had barely slept a combined total of three hours. Your body couldn’t take anymore, your soul can’t take anymore. 

“Just kill me,” You suddenly begged, another tear slipping down, “If you’re gonna bring me in, just kill me. Please kill me, please.”

This seemed to stun the Mandalorian, because his grip on your wrist loosened slightly. The hand holding the stun device stalled and you heard him take in a breath.

“What?” The word was so simple and so low that you almost missed it, but the rumble of his gruff, modulated voice struck to your very chest. There was something in that voice…something you couldn’t quite place. 

Something that made you think he might honor your request, that he might listen. 

“Kill me,” You pleaded again, bringing the hand he didn’t hold to press against his beskar chest plate, “Don’t let him have me alive, I’d rather die. Please kill me,”

There was a charge in the air between you two that confused you, and you blamed it on the delusions your panic was causing. With his hand still holding your wrist and your hand on the cool metal plating his chest, you practically leaned all of your exhausted weight onto him. You could barely stand anymore, and you shut your eyes, turning your head and waiting for his killing blow. 

Death was better than Vince Hanon. 

You waited and waited and waited, but the blow never came. 

“I’m not going to kill you,” The Mandalorian murmured, his voice like gravel and deceivingly soothing to your soul. Pure desperation makes another tear slip down your cheek as you open your eyes that are so, so tired. 

“No,” Is all you could make out, lifting your exhausted gaze to his helmet. 

“I’m not gonna turn you in, either.”

His words sent a shot of confusion through your soul. 

“What?” You breathed, your brows furrowed. 

“I won’t turn you in,” The Mandalorian repeated, his voice sounding just as confused as you, but with an edge of a vow that made you believe him. 

“Thank you,” You mumbled, the adrenaline that had kept you awake for nearly an entire week seeping out of your system, “Thank you”

It probably was not smart, but you couldn’t stop your body from giving in to the need to sleep. You collapsed, your eyes slipping shut and your mind already shutting down into that blissful abyss of rest. As your body slipped to the floor, you felt strong, warm arms catch you. Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted and pressed into cool metal. 

“I’ve got you,” The Mandalorian vowed, his voice uncertain but his soul remembering what it felt like trying to turn in the Child when he first hunted him down, “I’ve got you.”

The Mandalorian held your sleeping form close to his chest as he walked past the outskirts of the busy Coruscant town and near the shipyard where the Crest awaits. To be completely honest, he didn’t know what he was doing. He needed those credits, and it had been all too easy to find you considering how many Hunters were on your trail. 

Din stood there in the shadows of an alleyway, watching that Hunter take you down and approach your convulsing body. He watched with a blaster raised, ready to take the Hunter out and then claim your bounty instead. Din watched as you fought like a hellcat to be free, watched you spit your blood up at the Hunter. 

When he took out the Hunter, he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d done it to claim your bounty himself or save your life.

As he followed your limping form easily, not even having to run to catch up with you, he was so sure he’d collect your bounty. He had convinced himself he would, even after that familiar nagging of his conscience began. 

Then Din caught you, and you begged for death. 

Never before had a bounty done that, at least if he didn’t torture them for information first. Yet here you were, begging for death. Din had felt like a sort of Reaper as you sobbed and pleaded for your end, and suddenly he could not understand how the Reaper managed to fulfill those pleas. 

In that moment, peering into your tear-filled eyes and seeing the desperation, the fear that wasn’t directed at him, Din couldn’t do it. He couldn't kill you, and he sure as hell couldn't turn you in to Vince Hanon.

So now here he was, carrying you to his ship with the intent of helping you escape. 

It was stupid, Din knew that. He shouldn’t be doing this, he should have left you there on the street to fend for yourself. This wasn’t his problem. You weren’t his problem.But he just couldn’t. It was his biggest weakness, and everyone knew it. First with the kid, and now with you. Even now he couldn’t think of leaving you to fend for yourself, not as he looked down at your sleeping form cuddled into his chest as if you had never been held before.

Maybe you hadn’t, just as he hadn’t in a long while. 

Ultimately, that was why Din let you cling to him in your oblivious sleep when he would have shoved almost anyone else off.

And it was in that moment that Din Djarin knew he was screwed.

|||

When you woke up, you didn’t recognize your room. 

For a moment you stayed perfectly still, knowing that your memories would supplement the answer eventually. As you sat up slowly, you took in the cot you lay upon in the small room. 

A ship, you determined. 

That’s when the events of when you were awake came rushing back—the Bounty Hunter on Coruscant, nearly getting caught, the Mandalorian. 

The Mandalorian…saving your life. 

Why would a Bounty Hunter save you? 

Instantly, doubt began to creep into your mind. Reason took over for desperation now that you were rested and in a Bounty Hunter’s ship. The Mandalorian was one of the best in the Guild, he would have said anything to get you onto his ship. He had to be on his way to Vince right now. 

With a wary mind, you got off of the bed slowly. You tried to be as silent as possible, but failed horribly, as you crept out of the small room you were just sleeping in. As the door to the room slid open, you were met with the hull of a ship. It was relatively clean, but had small clusters of scrap metal and assorted belongings in corners of the room. To your right, as you glanced up, was a ladder leading to what had to be the cockpit. 

He was probably up there right now. 

Your breath was shallow, but you took your time to scan the ship warily. You paused upon a good-sized metal cabinet in the back. If there were any weapons in this ship, that’s where they would be. You walked up to the cabinet quietly, looking back towards the ladder to make sure the Mandalorian wasn’t coming down. As your fingers reached towards it, your mind was racing with plans. 

You’d never beat him in any sort of combat, but if you could sneak up and surprise-

A choked gasp broke out of your mouth as a strong hand grabbed your shoulder and flipped you around. In an instant, you were pressed up against the metal cabinet with a beskar-coated arm barring your throat hard enough to keep you in place, but not enough to cut off your air supply. 

“You really think that was gonna work?” He ground out, cocking his head down at you. Your chest was heaving with breath as you looked up at him, desperately trying to look tough. 

“Did you really think I was going to let you deliver me to Vince without a fight?” You rasped back, your eyes lit with fire as you stared into the abyss of that beskar helmet. 

“Deliver you to-” The Mandalorian stopped his sentence, sounding almost disgruntled as his arm loosened at your throat, “I told you I wouldn’t. I keep my promises.”

“How do I know that?” You countered, suddenly trying to ignore the burning heat of his arm against your throat, even with his armor in the way, “How do I know you’re not gonna say anything to keep me docile before delivering me to him?”

The Mandalorian stopped for a moment, but even as he did your words felt wrong. A part of you, deep within your chest, knew you could trust him. But you were raised to trust no one, so you ignored the intuition and stood your ground.

There was a thick silence as you waited for his response, but it was anything but silent. You were all too aware of how close his body was pressed to yours, of the heat that radiated off of him and the charge in the air. 

“If I wanted to turn you into Vince Hanon, you’d already be there,” The Mandalorian finally reasoned, stepping back from you and dropping his arm as if he too realized the intimacy of your position, “You slept for two and a half days, you can check if you think I’m lying.”

A part of you wanted to check just to spite him, but as much as you hated to admit it, you believed him. You stayed with your back against the metal cabinet and observed the Bounty Hunter.

“Where are we going, then?” You inquired, the skepticism heavy in your tone. 

“Serenno.” His reply was short and clipped, but you still visibly reacted.

“Serenno?” You retorted, already shaking your head, “That’s Outer Rim. I won’t-”

The Mandalorian cut you off, taking only one menacing step towards you, but it was enough to make your words die.

“You tried the populated, New Republic planet and obviously that didn’t work for you. Vince probably has men crawling through that sector now, so the Outer Rim is our best bet.”

Our? The word came off of his tongue so naturally that it struck a chord deep in your chest. “I was advised to stay away from there. Vince has men patrolling for me there. Why would it be any better now?” You cut back. 

“Because now you have me.” 

He didn’t raise his voice, didn[t even sound pissed off, but there was something in his words that sent a chill running down your spine. An arrogant man would say those words carelessly, and you knew exactly what it sounded like coming from them. But The Mandalorian? He wasn’t arrogant. He was sure, and for reasons you didn’t want to unpack just yet, it made your heart miss half of a beat. 

“If you’re gonna make it out of this, you have to trust me,” He followed up. You almost laugh.

“That’s not happening,” You quipped, but your eyes told a different story. You didn’t want to stroke his ego by telling him that he was already the most trustworthy person you’d met in years. “How are we going to make it out of this anyway?”

There it was again. We. Why had you said ‘we’?

“Only one way that I see,” The Mandalorian responded, turning from you and walking over to a corner of junk on his ship, “Kill Vince Hanon.”

He said it so casually, but it didn/t stop the words from choking you from within. That should have sat easily with you considering what he had almost made you do before you betrayed him. And yet, after everything, you couldn’t fully convince yourself you’d land a final blow if the time came. 

There was a long silence, one that indicated the conversation was over. The Mandalorian turned to the ladder, ready to go back up to the Cockpit when you called out to him suddenly, almost desperately.

“Why are you helping me?”

He paused, his back to you as it had been for the last few minutes. He turned his head slightly in your direction, but didn't turn around. 

“I don’t know,” He grunted out, then turned and went up the ladder.

He was lying, you knew it the second he spoke. Vince trained you to see tells, and you could see them even through his helmet. You didn’t have time to ponder why he really was helping you when another door near to the one you were sleeping in slid open. 

You turned towards the noise, confusion and wariness springing up in your gut. You hadn’t known he had a crew, you had just assumed it was him alone in this ship. 

So, considering that, surprise isn’t quite the right word to describe what flashed through you when you watched a child walk out of the room.

“What the-” You breathed, your words dying out on your own as the small, green toddler stopped outside of his room and looked up at you with massive, dark eyes. 

Before you could even call out to the Mandalorian, you hear a rushed curse followed by the thud of his feet slamming against the ship’s flooring as he jumped from the ladder. Suddenly, the beskar-coated Bounty Hunter is storming over and scooping the child up into his massive arms. 

“What are you doing out, kid?” He scolded softly, but even you could hear the tenderness in his voice—the mark of a father. At least, what you imagined a father would be like.

The child tilted his head up at the daunting, death-bringing Mandalorian and smiled, reaching out with his tiny hands out to the Hunter. You could hear The Mandalorian sigh in resignation, tucking the child close into his body, “You make it hard to be mad at you, kid. You know that?”

Watching this angel of Death, the Hunter who almost became your reaper, cuddle a small child to his chest with those hands scarred with blood and murder…you could feel your heart melting.

You knew instantly that you were in trouble, serious trouble. 

The Mandalorian turned to you, holding the child close, “It seems I have a knack for sparing the bounties I’m given.”

Surprise skittered across your face as you took in the meaning in his words. Any small amount of doubt in your safety with this Mandalorian suddenly dissipated into ash. You’d never tell the Hunter that, but you couldn’t deny that his word was good. He said was going to help you, and that’s what he was going to do. 

“Cute kid,” You managed to get out, not being able to stop the smile that grew onto your lips, “He’s lucky to have you for a father.”

The daunting, ever-stoic Mandalorian suddenly seemed to grapple with his words, and it takes more effort than you’d like to admit to keep the amused smile on your lips from turning into a laugh. 

“I’m not his blood, I’m just watching out for him.” He finally settled on. 

Something haunted and broken suddenly speared into your chest, and you knew from the way the Mandalorian’s back stiffened and head tilted that it passed across your face. With a smile that’s sad and built with years of heartache, you locked your gaze with the Bounty Hunter that spared you.

“A father isn’t always bound by blood,” You nearly whispered, breaking away from his gaze and reaching up to run a soft, caressing finger across the child’s large ear. He giggled, leaning into your touch. You smiled wider, this one less sad than before. 

“He’s a lot to handle isn’t he?” You asked. The Mandalorian stiffened, seeming defensive. 

“No. He’s actually-”

“I was talking about you, Mando,” You interrupted, looking away from the kid’s large eyes and up to the Mandalorian with a raised brow. He cocked his head down at you.

“Careful, I can still turn this ship around and take you to Vince,” He threatened, but you knew now that he never would. Somehow, you just knew that. 

“Sure you will,” You taunted, smiling up at him before taking a step back from the kid who reached after you, “What’s your name anyways, Mandalorian? Or am I expected to call you Mando for the rest of our lovely time together?”

“Why would I give you that?” He asked, his voice like gravel and silk all at once. He was a siren and you were a sailor—blissfully doomed from the start.

“Because you already have mine,” You reasoned, alluding to the bounty he took on you, “It’s only fair.”

He paused for a moment that stretched on long enough for you to know that he wasn’t going to give it. You nodded in response, clicking your tongue “Mando it is.”

You turned, walking towards the ladder that led up to the cockpit. You made it up a few rungs when his voice stopped you.

“Din.”

You froze, taking a few seconds to comprehend what he just said. With your back to him, you didn’t stop the smile that grew onto your lips. 

“Thanks for saving my ass, Din,” You called back, before continuing up the ladder. It was so soft that you almost missed it, but Din chuckled quietly to himself below. The sound traveled down your spine and turned your heart molten.

You definitely were in trouble. 

Then again, you always loved trouble anyways. 

|||

The sun hung low in the sky, slinging the last of its light across the tops of mountains and through the lush rainforests stretching between the settlements of Serenno. As you and Din left the Razor Crest in a clearing and trekked towards a nearby city, there was a smile you could not stop from breaking free.

It wasn’t long lasting, for the moment the illusion of peace settled over your shoulders, the Mandalorian’s words were quick to remind you of the truth.

“Stay close to me. Don’t wander off, don’t go anywhere on your own. Keep your eyes open, and if you see anything tell me.” His voice was low and even and perhaps the most daunting sound you’d ever encountered. There was something so dangerous in the smooth, controlled tone modulated by his mask. It almost made you nod in easy compliance. 

“I think you’re forgetting I’m used to this life, Mando,” You insisted, walking harder than you’d like to admit to keep up with his pace as the two of you entered the city, “I don’t need you controlling my every step. I know how to take care of myself.”

“Yeah? That worked out so well for you on Coruscant.” Din fired back at you, his voice not even ratcheting up in volume an inch. He didn’t even look over at you as he sauntered down the main street of the city. As the two of you walked, every stare that slipped your way left just as swiftly when they caught sight of the Mandalorian. 

“I survived longer on my own than most would. I’m not saying I don’t need your help, just that I’m not a child for you to boss around.” 

That seemed to strike a chord in his chest as he suddenly stopped and grabbed ahold of your arm, tugging you to a stop so abruptly that you stumbled right into him. Din steadied you with a hand on either arm, holding you so close that you had to crane your neck up to meet his unflinching helmet peering down at you.

“You think you can make it without me? Go ahead, leave.” He growled, finally showing a touch of emotion in his voice. You lifted your chin to meet his gaze, trying to ignore that way your heart could not seem to find an easy rhythm this close to Din. His words sent ice shooting through your chest, but much to your surprise, you found fire dancing up to tangle with it. You didn’t know whether to be intimidated or infatuated with him in this moment, and that thought was what jolted you back to reality. You stayed silent in response, because you knew the truth.

You would be dead within hours without the Mandalorian.

“That’s what I thought,” Din gritted out, his eyes sweeping over your figure for another moment before he let you go and began to walk away, “Now come on. We need supplies.”

You followed hastily, your eyes scanning the city for signs of hunters tracking you. As you struggled to think of anything besides the impact of Din’s words on you, Din stormed as far ahead of you as he could without leaving you completely behind. All the while, Din was trying to shove down the relief that you hadn’t taken his words seriously and left. The words had come out of his mouth, but within, Din had been begging you to see through the lie that they already were. 

What terrified Din most was that he had practically just met you and yet he knew exactly what you could become to him should he not be careful. It was a fact that was hard to ignore when he looked at you and realized that you were the sun and him the moon—a mere reflection of the beauty before him. 

Din shook his head to rid the thought, but to no avail. Instead, he grew grumpier and tried to increase the space between the two of you.

Trying to diffuse the tension, you jogged up to stay close to the Mandalorian and sighed, “So, what do we need to get?”

“Food, blankets, ammunition, anything else we’ll need to camp out here for a while,” Din responded. And, without even looking over at you, he spoke again.

“And we need to get you new clothes.”

You scoffed in surprise, looking down at your bloody and torn clothes. He was right, but it didn’t make you any less angry about it. You stormed after him, your fists clenched. 

“You’re one to talk, Mando.” You retorted, catching up to him in time to hear his low chuckle. Immediately, your poor, unknowing heart stumbled at the sound and you found yourself once again, unable to be angry with the Bounty Hunter. 

“That was a joke,” You realized, looking over at Din with surprised eyes, “Since when do you make jokes?”

He didn’t respond to that, just kept leading the way deeper into the town, “Get a move on, trouble. Can’t spend too long in town considering your luck.”

You followed with a small smile on your lips. It took hours to gather all that you needed to camp out on Serenno, and when Din finally began to turn and head back to the Crest, you almost cried in relief. Your arms ached with all of the wares you helped carry, and you were well past the exit of the city when Din finally began to explain to you the plan.

“We’ll hide out here for now. It’s quiet enough,” He assured, the Razor Crest coming into view as the two of you delved into the dense rainforest just before the clearing where it was parked, “Once we come up with a solid plan to take out Vince, we’ll move.”

Once again, the notion of ‘taking out’ the Zeltron who raised you struck you harder than it should have. You were able to hide it earlier, but as you exited the last of the trees obscuring the Crest, Din did not miss the way you went uncharacteristically silent. He didn’t say anything at first, and you thought he might let it go. As the two of you boarded the Crest and dropped the supplies onto the floor, the kid walked out of the room his crib sat in and looked up at you with wide, excited eyes. You couldn’t help but smile. 

“Hello there,” You cooed, stooping down and picking him up, “Glad to see you missed me already.”

The child giggled in response, babbling some nonsense that you couldn’t quite understand. You felt the Mandalorian’s presence before you saw him, especially with how the attention of the child immediately switched to over your shoulder. You turned, not even meeting Din’s stare as you handed him his kid. The little one went happily, grabbing onto his caretaker as if he were anything but a feared Bounty Hunter. You smiled at the child before turning and walking with the clothes Din had bought you to your makeshift room to change. Before you could make it in, though, his voice called out to you.

“You don’t want to kill him.” Not a question, a statement. 

So much for that.

Confliction tearing through you, you turned around and faced the Mandalorian and his child once again. Your eyes darted from the Mandalorian’s beskar helmet to the small child he held so close in his arms, and then back again. You could do little to hide the brokenness lingering in your gaze.

“I know it’s wrong,” You whispered, not fully understanding why you were being so vulnerable with this stranger, “I hate him. It should be easy to want him dead. It would solve all of my problems. But…”

The words you couldn’t say spoke just as loudly in silence as they would have in the air. 

For a moment, you feared Din would push the matter and force the truth of your past out. Instead, he sighed and set down the kid, “Get changed. I’ll have a meal ready when you’re done.”

And that was that. He turned and walked away, going to do as he said. You stared for a moment in surprise that quickly shifted into a deep gratitude that spilled into your aching chest cavity. Din hadn’t forced you to say anything. He’d seen you were uncomfortable and he had let it go. 

This Mandalorian was not who you thought he was, who he looked to be at first glance. With every passing day you spent with him, you realized your first impression could not have been further from the truth. With every day, you were proven more wrong about him in the best way possible.

And with every day, you wished you weren’t wrong at all. 

Because how were you supposed to leave him in the end if you kept finding reasons to want to stay? 

|||

It had now been weeks since you’d joined Din and the two of you had settled on Serreno. 

In order to continue funding living while the two of you grappled with the best way to stop Vince and his bounty on you, Din had taken up a few smaller, low-profile bounties. He was careful not to pick up anything too forward since Vince had most likely noted by now that the two of you were together considering the debacle of Coruscant all those weeks ago. 

And every time he went on a hunt, you found a way to join him. 

At first, it was surprisingly easy to convince the Mandalorian to let you accompany him on his hunt. You’d claimed it was for your safety and that it was best to be with him whenever you could. After the first few, though, Din grew reluctant to let you come. He now considered the hunts more dangerous than staying in the Crest with the Child. You were running out of excuses to go with him, because you would not dare tell him the truth. 

You wouldn’t dare to imagine the pity spreading across his face beneath that daunting mask that had become almost home to you when he found out the truth. In the time you’d spent together, you had fallen into a sort of routine. Wake up, plot and plan, go into town for hunts, execute those hunts. He’d taught you basic combat skills, his gloved hands leaving traces of fire where they corrected your form, and Din had even begun to eat in front of you, just lifting up the bottom of his mask to do so and allowing you to see his strong jaw and lips. 

Those lips would haunt you night after night in dreams you could no longer control. To put a long story short, you’d grown attached. Hopelessly attached. And now, you couldn't help but be terrified of him leaving and not returning. 

Just as your parents had all those years ago. 

The fear was irrational and you knew it. Din was a man of his word and he’d promised you he would see you through this bounty and so you knew that he would. And yet, with the attachment that had grown rather quickly between the two of you, so too grew a fear of losing someone you lo-

Your thoughts stalled on the next word, and with a bolt of butterfly-filled fear in your gut, you amended the word. 

Care for. A fear of losing someone you care for. 

After all, if your parents—the only people in the galaxy who were meant to love you unconditionally—could leave you, so could the Mandalorian. 

Your thoughts were once again interrupted by the sound of Din walking out of his chambers, adjusting a piece of his beskar armor. He struggled with the piece, cursing it out roughly beneath his breath as an amused smile traipsed onto your lips. 

“Need some help?” You called out, lifting an eyebrow at him. His gaze snapped to yours and he huffed.

“No,” He rumbled. You hummed, standing to your feet and walking over to him.

“Sure you don’t.” You did not wait for him to object as you grabbed his shoulders and shoved him down into a chair nearby and began to work on the beskar shoulder plate.

“I can do it,” Din informed rather defeatedly.

You laughed softly, “I know you can, big guy.”

Your fingers worked with the plate of metal until you realized he had strapped it on wrong. Swiftly and deftly, you removed it and were just about to replace it when you noticed a jagged cut in his shirt beneath. The cut revealed a patch of tanned skin with an equally long and jagged cut on it that was now red and inflamed. You sucked in a breath sharply.

“What the hell Din? Why didn’t you mention you got hurt on the hunt yesterday?” You pressed, quickly setting down the beskar plate and rushing for a med kit, “It’s probably infected by now!”

“I can barely feel it,” Din defended, but surprisingly stayed in the chair as you grabbed the kit you were looking for and jogged back over to him, “Besides, I was going to put some bacta spray on it later and-”

“Bacta, really?” You cut in, shaking your head at the bounty hunter, “Is that your solution to everything? Put bacta on it?”

He shrugged, “Worked so far.”

Shaking your head, you grumbled your disapproval as you peeled back his shirt to see the extent of the laceration on his arm. Noting that it wrapped around slightly to the front, you moved to stand before the seated Mandalorian to get a better access to the cut. As your fingers danced along the injury, his skin was impossibly hot to your touch. 

Because of a fever, you convinced yourself as you opened the med kit and looked around for a surface to set it down on. Noticing your search, Din patted his lap with his hand. 

The movement made you actually stutter for a moment. It was a harmless offer, but the sight of it sent shockwaves tumbling through you. With a clouded mind, you set down the med kit on his thigh on the side opposite to his injured arm. He kept the kit braced with his free hand as you stepped between his legs to get closer to his injured arm.

You wished you could say that you didn’t even notice the position as you began to apply disinfectant to the cut, but it seemed to be the only thing on your mind. Din’s body heat bolted into you with how close you were to him and the scent of his soap that still lingered along his body dizzied your mind and reminded you of star-filled nights and rustling trees. 

As you looked away from the injury and to the med kit, you grabbed the stitching needle and expertly began to suture his cut closed. You threaded the first stitch through his skin swiftly and without warning, making him suck in a sharp breath before you and instinctively grab onto your lower waist with the hand not bracing the med kit. 

You gasped softly at the unexpected contact and looked down, an apologetic look crossing your distracted, breathless features, “Sorry, should’ve warned you.”

Din shook his head, clearing his throat, “No, I’m good. Keep going.”

Yet his hand lingered on your waist. 

As you began to stitch up his cut, every free part of your mind was centered on that large, strong hand that rested ever so lightly on your waist. When you were about halfway through the stitch, the tense silence was finally broken.

“Where did you learn how to do all this?” Mando asked, his voice sounding ever so slightly strained. 

“Whenever Vince’s fighters would come back from missions, I’d help patch them up where I could. Our healer trained me in a few vital skills while he worked,” You narrated, your voice airy and light as your fingers worked with the needle, “I was always good with the difficult cases because I’d tell them stories while we worked and it kept them distracted. I never could fight well, but I sure as hell could talk.”

“I know you can,” Din mumbled, making a surprised laugh break through you. You looked down at him, peering into the dark reaches of his beskar helmet that looked up at you.

“Careful teasing me, Mando. I’m the one with a needle in your arm.”

He released a low, soft laugh and his hand on your waist tightened the smallest bit. That was the end of the conversation, but it was the beginning of something else entirely. No longer did your attraction live chiefly in your dreams plagued with beskar and a voice so alluring it haunted you. You were awake, and you were sure you’d never been awake until this moment.

It was too much—the attraction, the tension, the dependency you were beginning to build up for him. 

Din Djarin was like the hit of a drug or a breath of sweet air or the touch of nectar to the tongue—now that you’d known him, felt him, heard his laugh, you could never want for anything but him and it would never be enough until you had more.

“All done,” You whispered, putting the med kit back together and closing it. With the wound dressed and his beskar plate in place, Din stood from his perch before you could step back. The hand he had at your waist stayed there for a moment, keeping you from running away. 

With his hulking presence before you and the way he peered down at you silently through his beskar helmet, you nearly forgot your own name. Your breaths were shallow and your heart raced in its cage of bones. Standing there, looking up at Din with your chest almost touching his, you knew. 

You knew that when this was over, you couldn’t leave him. You wouldn’t leave him. You were suddenly unaware of how you’d gone the entirety of your life without him, let alone how you’d continue it after this was over. You felt as if Din was tethered to the breath in your lungs, the beat of your heart, the firing of your thoughts. 

And for the life of you, you could not figure out how such a deep, ardent connection had taken root in your soul for someone you’d only known for a few months. It did not make sense, and somehow that was the beauty of it. These feelings were not explainable or rational, they were anything but. And that thrilled you just as much as it made you frightened that he’d walk out the door just like your parents had.

You wouldn’t recover from it this time. 

“Din-”

You were cut off by the sound of the small, green child waddling up to the two of you and babbling something you could not understand. As if a knife had quartered down the moment between Din and you, the both of you stepped back instantly. His hands left your waist and yet you could still feel the phantom of their touch. 

Din sighed as he stooped down and gathered the kid in his arms, “I know kid, we gotta get you something to eat.”

“I swear that child has the largest appetite,” You mused, a smile lighting your lips as you looked at the vulnerable youngling in the rough, intimidating arms of the Mandalorian. 

For a moment, you wondered what it felt like to be in his arms, held close and safe like that. 

“What are we gonna do with him for the hunt this afternoon?” You inquired, turning and securing the blaster Din had gotten you onto your belt, “And don’t even start the lecture on how we should be getting serious about our Vince planning. I know it seems like I’m being avoidant but if I just had a little more time then…”

You allowed your voice to trail off when you noticed the different kind of silence filling the crest. With furrowed brows, you turned to see Din tucking in the child to his crib. A sigh sounded from his modulator as he stepped back and checked his weapons, not even being able to look up to your gaze. 

“Din?” 

He paused, and the silence made your stomach twist. Finally, he looked up at you, “I need to do this hunt alone.”

For a moment, your brain would not grasp to compute the words, “What?”

“This is a dangerous one, and I’d feel better if you were here keeping the kid safe until I have it done.” 

It took every ounce of your energy to restrain the panic that immediately roared to life in response to the trauma-triggering words. The timing could not be worse for this conversation, not when you’d just been reminiscing on how haunted you were that he would walk just like your parents had. 

You managed to keep your face void of the telling emotions brewing within and shook your head, “Don’t be silly, Mando. If it’s really that dangerous, then I’ll just come with you.”

“No,” He urged, his voice stronger this time as he took a step closer to you, “I need you and the kid safe. I can’t ensure that if you’re out with me on a hunt like this.”

“I can hold my own,” You argued, trying and failing to keep the desperation from leaking into your voice, “I’ll just go with you and-”

“It is not safe for you out there. Vince’s bounty on your head keeps ratcheting up and everytime you leave this ship, your chances of being caught grow. I cannot risk that.” Din cut in, and even though he was grappling to keep the intense worry within his gut from spilling out, you were hopelessly battling the trauma-ingrained panic of what his words meant to you. 

He might have been looking out for your safety, but your irrational mind was already jumping to conclusions and you could not stop it. After all, Din had no ties to you besides a promise built on a foundation of good will and blind trust. What would really stop him from finding another ship and leaving you here? The Razor Crest was an aging ship anyways, and he had more than enough credits for an upgrade. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Mando assured, walking past you and towards the hatch that was now lowering and opening to the outside, “It shouldn’t take me all night, but if it does, don’t come hunting for me. I can’t risk you being caught.”

“Din, please don’t-”

Your words died as he walked down the hatch and off into the mid afternoon light. 

“Please don’t leave me,” You whispered to yourself.

If he’d spared just one moment to look at your face, Din would have seen the anguish there. He hadn’t looked, though, because something had changed so fundamentally within the bounty hunter when he’d stood so close to you just moments ago.

Din had peered down at you, taking in the beauty of your face and your very soul, and had realized the extent of what he’d do for you. More accurately, Din had realized that there were no limits to what he’d do, give, endure to ensure your safety. He’d always been a natural protector, but this was different. You were different. And Din knew that one more look into your haunted eyes would have him setting course for whatever shithole Vince Hanon lived in and slaughtering him just so you could live with a peace of mind. 

So Din kept walking, and left you in the Crest. He left you, not knowing that you did not believe he’d come back. He left you, unaware that you were already beginning to fray with the lies your mind was bellowing down upon you. 

He left you, and all you could think about was what would happen if you never saw him again.